#my big strong manly rough old man oh god

[buckysboobs]

sierra six is literally the whole package. beard? check. protective nature? check. big arms? check. sexy scar? check. big man boobs? check. man of few words ? check. common sense? check. father figure? check. what more can a girl with daddy issues want.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Drink Up - Geralt of Rivia x reader

Summary: Traveling for hours on end can become exceptionally loathsome, but with a bottle of something strong to pass the time, things get very interesting indeed.

Warning: reader and Jaskier talking about sexy times, reader getting drunk and things get entertaining, the trio being goofs tbh

-reader is part of my Geralt series (Of Monsters And Men)

Masterlist

With not a whole lot of entertainment sprouting forth from the nearby scenery of the continent most days, or by the unfortunate lack of abundant random wanderers to cross your path. You’ve become accustomed to imploring very creative ways in amusing yourself while wayfaring the roads with your two favorite traveling buddies.

A Witcher, to handsome for his own good, and a lovely yet mildly annoying bard.

You’ve been currently hiking on this forest trail for half the day without much to pass the time. Sure Jaskier has delved into giving you all a show with his ballots and fantastic lute playing skills. But there’s only so much of that angelic voice you can take before it turns into the most goddamn irritating thing you’ve ever heard.

Also you’re pretty damn certain that Geralt could have been one more strum away from knocking the bard out cold, thus pleading for you to leave him there for the next unlucky fellow who decides to wander by.

The sun on the other hand keeps her great golden colors beaming across the landscape, warming the earth to a comfortable temperature on this calm spring afternoon. It’s been a good hour since anything interesting has happened and this stick you keep flipping around in your hand is not cutting it.

Pressing onward, your mind suddenly sparks with an idea, surly an idea that will stir up some much needed conversation on this rather dull trip though the peaceful woodland. Smirking to yourself, you glance to your right where Jaskier is walking with lute in hand, oblivious to your growing mischievousness.

Then your crimson gaze trails a small distance ahead where Geralt sits atop of Roach, his snowy head faced forward as he relishes in the quiet of the green woodland. Gods he looks like a proper knight, with that dark armor, sword on his back, and all that manliness seated atop his grand stead. Hmm, delicious.

Casually twirling your stick here and there, you turn your attention over to Jaskier who’s looking away from you, “Psst...Jaskier.” You whisper, making sure Geralt can’t hear.

The bards head snaps over to you in an instant, a new intrigued curiosity overtaking him, “Yes?” He whispers back just as quietly, blues darting over to Geralt who’s none the wiser.

You casually shrug, using your normal speaking voice now, “Just wanted to make sure you haven’t forgotten your name.”

His face falls, “Y/N.” He whines disappointedly, “Come on I’m bored as shit.” Complains Jaskier like a whiny little toddler before he huffs and pauses for a moment to think. Suddenly he taps the side of your bicep with the back of his hand, you raise a curious brow as he shrugs, “You got any good stories?”

Searching your extensive past of palpable events for a moment, your face quickly lights up, “Ohhh better then a story. Get a load of this shit.” You muse while pulling out a bottle of wine from your traveling pack, “Stole this from some pricy vendor. Figured it’d have some purpose sooner or later and right now I need it sooner.” You chuckle while popping off the spongy cork and taking a hearty swig.

Jaskier lets out a breathy laugh as he watches you fully enjoy your stolen beverage, “Not sure if I should be impressed or concerned.”

“Don’t worry I’ll share but only if you indulge me.” You quip before taking another gulp before bringing the bottle to your side, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before speaking, “I have a question for you my dear lover boy.” You inquire with a wiggle of your brows.

Jaskier smirks, ready for the challenge and some wine, “Ask away.”

Whipping your stick around, you point it at the bard, “Okay. And be honest, I can tell if you’re not.....what’s the best part of a woman?”

Jaskier nods, his face shifting into one of legitimate deep thought as he takes a considerable amount of time to contemplate the possibilities, “Well, I guess I’d say I’m decently fond of a good smile,” Admits the bard before he lets out a small chuckle, “cause if they don’t have one it’s regretfully difficult to watch them enjoy themselves if you understand my meaning.” Adds Jaskier, nudging your arm with his elbow as you roll your ruby irises.

“Hmm alright well you’re a fucking snooze.” You deadpan as he suddenly lets out a burst of laughter.

“Oh I didn’t realize you wanted all my inner most personal tastes, is that it then?” He wonders as you chuckle at his little half offended outburst.

“Tell me what gets you all hot and bothered and I’ll indulge you in my own appetites.” You add slyly, giving him a mischievous wink while continuing to twirl your stick and sip more of your strong liquor. Damn this stuff is strong.

He nods in understanding, a cheeky smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he decides to indulge you, “Well the lady asks, where to start?” Questions Jaskier.

“Oh I don’t know. Let’s say, personality aside cause we’re not here for that shit right now..” You swat the air theatrically before taking another sip of your drink, “...what do you think? Firm or soft, maybe even a little saggy?” You suggest, making a squeezing motion with your one hand while your stick is tucked underneath that arm.

“I’d say both. A breast is a breast.” He confirms Jaskier with a laugh.

“A man of all dishes served I see. I respect the inclusion of diverse variety.” You add with an honest nod of approval. “Alright. Are scars a turn off if severe?”

“Taverns are dark for a reason Y/N.” Muses Jaskier with a knowing look causing you to snort with laughter.

“Fair point.” You wheeze.

“Okay Y/N/N, my turn.” Inquires Jaskier as you hand him the liquor.

“Lets hear it.”

He gives you back your bottle, “So....what’s so intriguing about that old grumpy wolf up there?” Questions Jaskier as he nods towards Geralt who’s minding his sweet business from his perch on Roach. No doubt probably listening.

Biting your lip, your eyes linger on the broad leathered back of your silver haired lover, “Are we talking physically or personality wise?” You wonder while turning your attention back to the bard, your voice lowering a couple octaves, “cause let me tell you he’s not much for words most times...” You lean in closer to Jaskier before whispering, “but I can get him moaning so goddamn fast.”

“Oh gods. Please tell me everything.” Presses Jaskier with a laugh as you take another sip from the bottle. Shit, you’re already feeling buzzed, guess it is much stronger then once previously thought.

Giving Jaskier a fangy smirk, you point the stick in Geralt’s general direction, “You asked so you’ve been warned. This man can come absolutely undone within minutes, literally all I gotta do is call him some cute names and lick his cheek...you know, feel him up a bit. Get him feeling all loved and appreciated you know?”

“Really?” Inquires Jaskier, enjoying your progressively drunken shpeel of personal info regarding yours and Geralt’s sex lives.

“Oh fuck yeah, but what really gets him off, is if I undress in front of him and then get all dominant and rough you know. He loves that shit.” You explain with a smile as Jaskier stares at you in awe. “He’s a moaning mess after I put on the charm, practically cumming at my command. The fucking power I have.” You mumble proudly with a shake of your bottle, though you try and keep your voice down.

“Y/N, you are, quit the woman.” Points Jaskier like a proud father watching his daughter marry to a prestigious lord of great wealth.

“I know.” You add with a shrug, clearly self confident and half drunk by now, “I’m a seductress what can I say?” Taking a moment to drink some more wine as Jaskier holds in his laughter.

He watches you trip on nothing before regaining your bearings a second later, “So uh, how you feeling?”

You give him a fangy grin, raising your bottle in salute, “Fantastic.”

“That’s good.” He muses, clearly not believing you, “How’s the wine?”

“Delectable and worth every coin!” You whisper yell, raising your bottle once more, the dwindling contents swirl around, some drops falling out as you bring the glass back down to your side.

“I thought you stole it?”

You snort, “I did.”

“Hmm alright, maybe uh....maybe slow it down on the intake Y/N?” Says Jaskier, taking notice of your new inebriated state and knowing all to well what you’re like when fully drunk of your ass.

“Fuck off bard I’m fine.” You mutter with an elated snicker before starting to giggle like a drunken jester in a kings court, causing Geralt to turn his head to the side in interest before shrugging and looking down the trail once again.

“You sure?” Half worries Jaskier, though in truth he’s absolutely living for the situation unfolding in front of him, “I’d rather not have you puking later.”

Scoffing you take another sip, “I’m not getting sick Jaskrr, I’m just horny.”

Brows raised in surprise, he coughs, “Oh, that’s um...good....I think?”

Almost tripping over a jutted out root, you bite your lip while eyeing up Geralt hungrily, “Now that....is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and you know what?”

“What should I know?” Wonders Jaskier with interest, making no faults to decrease how he’s clearly egging you on.

Grinning with a face full of mischief, you snicker, “Well....I can say I’ve seen his dick.” The bards eyes widen in amusement as you continue, “Which is...by the way....very lovely and large, he knows how to please a woman if you know what I mean.” You mumble quickly with a wink as Jaskier snorts.

“Oh, that’s good to know. What else is nice about him?” He agrees while successfully baiting you on further.

“Hmm mhmmm. Big muscles, Jask, big muscles.” You emphasize while leaning into the bards side and squeezing his less then impressive biceps, “Oh and he’s so good at hugging and cuddles.” You squeak with joy, shaking Jaskier as you swoon over Geralt, “Ugh, I love it when he’s shirtless and he looks at me and I just....ugh I’ll take my pants off so goddamn fast.”

Shoving his face into the crook of his arm to keep from laughing, Jaskier does all in his power to refrain from losing it while you lean away, stumbling around on the trail, oblivious to how hilarious he’s taking everything you just confessed to him. The biggest lovestruck grin dancing across your features as you stare longingly at Geralt’s leather clad back. A flash of lust rising in your smiling expression as you eye him up.

“I want.” You mutter, throwing your stick to the side as you make a childlike grabby motion with your hand.

“Y/N he’s on a horse.” Explains Jaskier as you make a face.

You scoff, sending Jaskier another dirty look, “You don’t understand.”

“Y/N it’s the middle of the day and we’re in an unknown forest.” Warns the bard, “Not exactly the time or place for whatever is brewing in your head.”

“Nuthin’s brwing in me head Jask.” You slur, tripping once again before just barely catching yourself.

Jaskier gives you a less then convinced expression, seeing straight though your terrible lying, “I don’t believe you.” He says while you frown.

“But he looks so delicious.” You whine with a dramatic pout, “And I’m so fecking horns right noww ‘cause of....wull, I just’am!” You grumble, turning your head to face Jaskier with an angry little frown before a mischievous smile begins to form upon your lips.

Jaskier blinks, knowing all to well what drunk you is capable of, “Y/N. Don’t you dare.” He warns.

“Waterr you gonna do bart?” You challenge, pushing him though its a weak assault that does nothing significant, “Fight me? I’ll kick your little pixie ass.”

Shaking his head, Jaskier takes a cautious step away from you, “Definitely not. Actually you know what? He’s all yours, go get him Y/N.” Urges Jaskier, really anticipating the possible beautiful disaster that may just soon enough present itself.

Raising your brows in pleasant surprise, you down the rest of your bottle, “Ha! Yu’r not as stupi’s ass’he says yur. I knews it. All along, nev’r a doubt in my mind really.....I sw’r it........promise.” You slur, the alcohols affects really starting to delve into your system.

Jaskier’s brows furrow in confusion, not one hundred percent sure how he should take that, “Well, that’s good I suppose.”

“Yes.........it is....... isn’t it.” You agree with a couple quick nods that look like a small child who’s trying desperately to get their parent to agree with them, “Okay, I’m go’in ta get h’em ov’tha house now.” You pause a moment, brows furrowing in thought as you grab Jaskier by the shoulder, “Horse. That’s uh, what I mean.....yeah.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to say something but you’re already stumbling quickly down the beaten trail much faster then he’d anticipated. You zero in on Geralt’s fine leather armored back, your vision slightly blurred and your legs a bit wobbly from the strong alcohol you’ve managed to make empty in less then ten minutes.

Shaking the fuzziness from your head, you drop the empty bottle in the dirt before hustling to Geralt’s side. Stopping quickly, halting a moment to gather yourself before walking onward, continuing side by side next to his feet and Roach’s middle.

Geralt hums before casually turning his head to find your beaming face with the dark of your eyes as big as a ceramic plate. Raising a brow, the Witcher throws Jaskier an odd look before shifting his attention back down to you.

“Y/N?” He mutters, not sure if you’ve eaten something you shouldn’t have or were recently hexed by some random fairy nearby. 

Letting out a little burp, you hold your hands close to your chest all the while giving him the biggest smile, “I’m....in’loe....v..uh, love....with’u.”

Geralt let’s out a humored snort at your intoxicated self while you await his answer to your grand declaration of love that he was indeed able to understand, “Sorry, I’m taken.” He quips, obviously teasing you though you’re to drunk to realize this.

Frowning you look at the ground in disappointment, “oh.” You whisper sadly causing Geralt to legitimately feel bad until your whole demeanor shifts to heated aggression, “That fucking bitch!” You shout coherently through a small slurred wavering in your angered voice, scaring some perched crows from their keep as well as a couple of innocent rabbits.

Geralt listens to the muffled laughter of Jaskier as you throw your hands up in aspiration before letting out a colorful stream of curses, “No good dirty whore faced dog shit horse shit bitch who’s clamed h’em ferr the’own!”

“Do’snt mak’any sense! I have a sw’urd! I can run....really fast! I’m half vampurrr goddammit!” You shout into the woods, struggling to keep your words together, “I’m pre-destinated...pre-dun.....pre-dragons....destiny, de-destined to be seductive! I am sexy!” You shout dramatically.

“Okay, Y/N let’s not wake something or someone with ill intentions.” Interrupts Geralt as you make two frustrated fists, your face appearing rather angered, crimson eyes dancing with hellfire.

“No!” You snap before turning an accusing dagger up at him, where you got that he’s not sure, “Tell me..who’s this-this donkey wumunnn! So I can...grrr....so I can uh, so I can...” Quickly looking down, you struggle to put away your dagger back into it’s designated sheath, you frown once again before shifting your face into a fake, yet rather convincing smile, “I just’uv sum’thins to say to’er. Thas’all. Promise.” You add sweetly, grin as shiny as a barrel of shimmering pearls and honestly a bit sadistic if he didn’t know any better.

Chuckling at your adorable drunken antics, Geralt shrugs, “She’s from a far away land. About a couple leagues from here northwest.”

“Wha’else.” You demand urgently, tone authoritative and hostile.

“She’s pretty tough, and very beautiful.” Teases Geralt as you scowl in irritation for this unidentifiable cunt who’s taken your man.

“Disgustin.” You scoff, flicking a hand upward as you mutter, “Go’un.”

“She’s got the most lovely body I’ve ever seen, and her laugh is more angelic then all the greatest singers in the entire continent.” He confirms with a handsome smile that would have you swooning like a fair maiden if not for how filled with hatred you are right now. 

“Blah.” You dismiss while sticking out your tongue in disgust, “Com’un giv’m a name. Then I’ll handle the’rst.”

“I don’t want you to hurt her.” He mutters with a shrug, holding back laughter at your amusing facial features.

“I won’t.” You sass, making a face before mumbling, “Jus’wanna talk....re’memr.”

“I don’t think I believe you Y/N.” Affirms the handsome Witcher much to your frustration.

“I jus’wanna fucking talk!” You growl as Jaskier cackles in the background, clearly enjoying this conversation though you can’t understand what’s so funny.

Snapping your head in his direction, you squint your eyes at him menacingly before yanking off a hanging thin branch and launching your new makeshift weapon full force in his general direction. He yelps in surprise before ducking, the wooden assault just missing his face by mere inches.

“Dear gods Y/N!” Gasps the bard with wide eyes as you snicker at his dramatic reaction.

“Fuck’ov h’was gonna tell me!”

“No he wasn’t!” Argues Jaskier while fearfully clutching his lute to his chest, afraid you might start swinging.

“H’was and I’m gonna fuck’n kill that bitch!” You snap angrily as Roach snorts, having not a single iota what the hell you’re saying. Only that you sound like some wounded beast on their last hour.

Rolling his baby blues in annoyance, Jaskier shouts back, “There is no other woman or man or any fucking forest nymph that Geralt has any sort of eyes for! You-you crazy woman!”

“How’u know? He doesn’t tell you shit!” You yell back, emphasizing the last word with some heat.

“He does! For your humbled information.” Protests Jaskier sassily while Geralt silently listens to you two idiots scream at one another in the middle of some large lumbering forest. His drunken lover and his, perhaps he could say it, friend who happens to be a bard.

“Oh really?!” You challenge, “Wel’in who’s this fuck’in cunt who’h said he’s with’en? Huh?!” You shout back.

Jaskier let’s out a stream of incomprehensible mumbles before throwing his hands into the air in frustration, “That’s because this woman is you, you drunken bat!”

“I’mnut drunk! Nor’m I a bat!” You yell, ignoring the fact that he confirmed you’re indeed Geralt’s lover, “I didn’evn drink tha’mush!”

“You drank the whole bloody bottle!” Claims Jaskier, much to your great shock and bewilderment, that Geralt struggles to keep himself from losing it atop of Roach.

 You scoff, clearly not believing a single thing out of this bards mouth, “I dunt see’a bottle!”

“That’s because you threw it somewhere!”

“Wel’wy woulda’ do’tha?” You snap, hands fanned out to each side in puzzlement like an angry castle pigeon standing up to a hulking statue.

“Oh I don’t know...let me think for a brief moment here...oh right! Because you’ve drank more then a king on his wedding night!” Shouts Jaskier as Geralt rolls his golden eyes, moving to jump off of Roach.

Standing oblivious to your Witcher who’s no more then five feet away from you now at ground level, your eyes start to grow darker as your frustration grows in this hazy state you’re in. “Mayb’if I knuck you’ot wit’a lute then’ull shut up!” You slur, taking a threatening step forward.

The bards eyes widen in fear for a moment as he sends Geralt a desperate glance, “Geralt!”

“Y/N.” Mutters Geralt gently in that grumbly voice of his, causing you to immediately turn in his direction.

Eyes softening, you instantly break out into a joyful fangy grin, “Yes.” You mumble happily, eyes shifting from his boots to his face as you shamelessly check him out.

“Come here.” Beckons your beautiful Witcher with a pleasant smile upon his plush lips, his arms soon reach out for yours and quickly enough they intertwine.

You blink back your slightly blurred vision to witness as Geralt’s lips flicker from your mouth to your shimmering irises of ruby red, a second later he pulls you flush against him for a heated embrace. Just want you wanted. 

Your lips move passionately against his own, a delighted smile forming as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue inside your mouth. Then all to soon he pulls away and your lips are left empty and wanting so much more.

Pouting you make an adorably angered face, “Wul’that wasn’t nearly s’long as it coulda been.” You grumble bluntly, suddenly yawning as you try desperately to keep focused on his face. His beautiful face. So pretty, so kissable, so lovely.

Dark spots skip and flare through your fading vision until without warning your legs feel like they’ve turned to pudding, giving out from underneath you in an instant and all you’re able to witness is Geralt’s lovely face before....

Darkness.

——

Waking up from a deep sleep, your eyes open to the sound of a fire crackling nearby, the sweet smell of grilled leaks wafting into your nostrils that aids in fully awakening your senses. You let out a sleepy yawn, sitting yourself up from your once previous positioning on your rolled out travel sack underneath you.

Sitting criss crossed, you wipe the bleariness from your scarlet irises before sucking in a deep breath and blinking, your sights now set on the campfire in front of you, a beautiful glow of bright oranges and gold. Geralt and Jaskier on either side, both quietly talking to one another before turning to face you. A knowing smile on either of their faces. Oh, Gods what did you do? And how did you even get here?

Shifting your confused gaze from Jaskier to Geralt and back again, you raise a puzzled brow, “Would any of you be kind enough to tell me how the fuck it’s already dark out?”

“What do you mean Y/N? It’s sunny as a summers day.” Confirms Jaskier with an honest smile, blue eyes looking into the fire as he strums a cord on his lute.

Shaking your head, you sniff, “Okay fuck you.”

Jaskier laughs as Geralt lets slip a couple chuckles before explaining, “You drank all of that wine bottle you stole.”

“Shit.” You mutter while rubbing your temples, “Who let me do that?”

“You did.” Adds the bard.

“Did I threaten you? I feel like drunk me was yelling for some reason, my throat kinda feels weird.”

“You were trying to get me to tell you the name of my lover.” Affirms Geralt with a laugh, “Which is obliviously you. Though drunk Y/N thought otherwise.”

“Fantastic.” You deadpan before turning on your side and laying on your back, deciding to relax once again, “So, how’d I get here? I forget after I was telling Jask about...uh, well...doesn’t matter.”

Smiling to himself from the explicit information you slipped to him about yourself and Geralt in the bedroom, Jaskier chuckles at that while Geralt moves to lay down as well, his head close to yours as you both make an L on the ground. “I put a drop of sleeping potion on my tongue and when I kissed you...”

“You gave me tongue and drugged me?” You confirm with a breathy laugh, honestly quit impressed he managed to pull that off so smoothly. Well, then again you were drunk off your ass.

Geralt hums, “It was either that or let you kill Jaskier. It was a tough decision really.”

“What?” Gasps Jaskier, “You had to think about it?”

“And he chose to slip me some enchanted sleeping juice instead. You’re welcome.”

Jaskier scoffs, “Yeah well you wanted to fuck him in the woods so....shut it.”

“We still can,” Mutters Geralt with a smile, face turned a bit so he has a better view of your face, “if you want.”

Smirking back at him, Jaskier almost chokes on his own spit, “I am right here. Right here Geralt. Right here.”

You laugh at the bards dramatics, “We never said you had to watch.”

“Wha-thats besides the point! And just, ugh please don’t....” Whines Jaskier, making a face of disgust before frowning, “or at least just wait for me to fall asleep.”

Laughing, you give the bard an agreeable nod, “Don’t worry we will.”

[sashi-ya]

hiiii <3 i adore literally everything you write🥰💕 but i’ve literally been obsessed with the eustass x reader smut i requested “yes master”!! it’s one of my fave ever eustass smuts💗💗💘

i was wondering if you could could do a part two for it! with similar prompts to last time, you can expand on this if you want!!💗💗

thank you!!! keep up the amazing work <3

Hi!! I'm so glad you like it omg 🙈!! I hope you like this as much as the first one! Thank u so much for your sweet words darling! 💗 ~

NSFW ~ PART 2 ~ Eustass Captain Kid x F! Reader ~ Yes, Master.

TW: Master/Slave dynamic, usage of toys, Impact play, Rough sex, kind of public sex, vaginal sex, face fuck, cum marking, choking, hair pulling. Kind of fluffy ending? haha

A/N: This is the second part for the fic "Yes, Master" of the Spicy Week Event.

WC: 1.7K

Since the first time Kidd and you had a session, he hasn’t had a new sub. And that felt amazing. You have travelled around the country with the band, and there hasn’t been a single night you two didn’t fuck like crazy. You usually session on the back of the bar where they had their concerts, or even on the bus when the rest of the members weren’t there.

Yet you are all on a long, long trip across the country this time, it would take at least three days to take to the other part and even if Kidd doesn’t really care about privacy, with you, is different. The singer of Punk Rotten might be reckless and all of that, but he wouldn’t like the others to hear or even see you enjoying the pleasures of lust…

Heat, the driver of the so called “Victoria Punk” trailer announces that you need gas so he enters into an isolated gas station in the middle of the night. There are no more than two gas pumps, a little store -that looks pretty abandoned- and a few yellow lights buzzing and surrounded by bugs flying around.

“Ah God, I needed to stretch my legs!” says your Master while descending the little bus. You are always next to him, almost like a little puppy following him -and that was actually your job there, but you loved it-.

“Oi, wanna go see inside the store?” Kidd tells you. You nod and follow him who has snatched your arm and is pulling you towards the little shop.

“Good evening!” an old man salutes you. You bow your head a little while Kidd's strong voice salutes him back. Everything over there is covered by a fine cape of dust, meaning the food is probably expired or at least on the verge of it.

“Oi, old-man, do you have something to drink?” asks Kidd. “Of course, sir” says the old man and points towards an old refrigerator. Some cans of beer you haven’t seen before on display, and a can of coke is what is left. Yet it seems enough for your master, so he grabs the cans and takes them to the counter. “You like coke, right?” Kidd tells you, worried for you. He genuinely cares about you even though he might look tough.

“Yes, Master. I like it” you answer obediently while squeezing the little bag you have crossed over your body. “Son, you better treat that sweet angel right there better” says the shop owner to him. Kidd looks at him with fire in his eyes, he actually really cares about you but he is not showing that to some random stranger. “Shut the hell up, old man. Keep the change and tell me please where the hell is the bathroom” he says. The man takes the money, smiles at you subtly and tells you the bathroom is at the back of the store.

Kidd opens the can for you and hands it to you, he then opens a beer and starts drinking it savagely. “Let’s go to the bathroom” he says while dragging you. You spill some of the drink over your t-shirt and follow him stumbling.

You both enter the men bathroom. It looks old, but clean. No one has been there in some time so you don’t have to worry about some unpleasant smells whatsoever. “I know it is the men's bathroom, but I’m not risking you being all alone on the other side in the middle of the night” says Kidd to you, and you are certainly pleased. There is no more than loneliness and darkness behind the place. The countryside could be scary during the night.

“You can go to the stall if you need to use the bathroom” says Kidd pointing at a green wooden box. “Yes, Master. Thank you” you say and enter the stall. After the both of you have released their bladders, you hear the water run and finally get out. “I’m ready, Master” you tell him with a subtle smile.

Kidd looks at you, and a side grin forms on his face. You know that face, and that means sex, rough sex, right now. “Well, I’m not ready, little Slave” he says, approaching you and lifting your chin up. You giggle nervously. As much as you like being fucked by him, it’s always a little intimidating…

“Do you, have it?” he asks you. “Yes, Master. I do…” you tell him and search on your little bag. You take out a bright pink little vibrator that Kidd has requested you to take in your purse every time and show it to him. “Good girl” he says and first caresses your cheek and then slaps it softly, twice. You moan at the gentle impact and wait for your Master’s orders.

“Shorts out” he commands. You do as he tells and stand there in an almost abandoned bathroom in the middle of nowhere. “Stick that vibrator in for master”.

You gently stick the fuschia toy into your entrance and let the little rubbery tail hang outside. Kidd walks up to you and takes your oversized shirt off. “Ugh those pretty tits” he grunts and squeezes one at a time.

The quivering of the toy starts making you squirm a little. “What’s wrong little slave? you can’t stand still, huh?” he says and takes his hand over your throat. “Did I tell you to move?” ... “N-no master, I’m sorry” you excuse yourself perfectly knowing that he takes no explanation.

“On your knees” he orders you, letting your already finger marked throat off. Your knees quickly hit the cold tales of the bathroom and your hands over your thighs, expectant. Kidd lowers down his zipper and his yellow pants fall into the ground. His big member out, menacing but tempting. You stick your tongue out, because he tells you so -even though there is absolutely no need of him ordering that, you love the taste of his dick so much you want to devour it every time-

The vibrator keeps working inside you, stimulating your G point, while Kid fucks your throat, mercilessly. Your hair tangled on his fingers for a better grip, while the deadly motion of his hips makes you gag. Tears running from the corner of your eyes, you gasping for air, and your core dripping wet.

The tip of his dick stretches your cheek while he pushes it from inside, the bulge forming on your face, and his big hand slapping over it several times. You moan, you whine. Kidd notices the ground under you getting wet by the arousal liquids of your incoming orgasm and tells you “Oh no no, are you already cumming? Did I give you permission to do so?”. “I’m… I’m sorry master I-I…” you mumble with his dick still inside your mouth. “Nah, no excuses Slave… You have to be punished, you know?” he says and you close your eyes anticipating what’s next. Kidd reaches your pussy and pulls from the rubbery string that hangs from the vibrator. The feeling of the little egg getting out and stretching your walls as it slides off makes you whine, loudly.

When the vibrator is out, and your orgasm has been denied, Kidd shouts “Look at me!”. You open your eyes and fix them on his. “Open your mouth” he commands and starts jerking off violently.

Grunts and manly moans escape his mouth while he reaches climax, bathing your face with his cum. You accept it gladly, a sticky warm love seed that covers not only your tongue, but also your profile and drips into your chest from your mandible.

“There you go, little slave. You look so good covered with my cum it’s almost not a punishment” he says while slowly stops the pumping motion on his dick. “Thank you, master” you tell him, smiling, tasting the sperm on your lips. “That smile, you little pervert bitch. I’m so glad you are my slave…” he says and lifts you up from your arm.

Kidd takes you to one of the three sinks and opens the tab. Cold water splashes on your face as he cleans it from his cum. “As much as I love your face covered in my jizz, it’s time to clean that up” he says. Then, your chest. The freezing cold water in contrast with the warm night makes you shiver a little, especially when it touches your nipples.

“Mhh, master…” you whine. “You like that, huh? you little bitch” he says and twists one of your already hard nipples. Once again, your moaning turns him on, and his dick is ready for another round.

“Come here, little bitch” Kidd says, and pushes you over the countertop. Your cheek pressed against the cold wet granite and your entrance perfectly aligned to be penetrated with no mercy. And that’s exactly what your master does. He doesn’t wait, your cunt dripping wet expecting to be filled by his dick drives him crazy.

Violent thrusts in and out of you, so deep inside you can feel your guts being pressed up. Spanks hit your ass repeatedly, leaving red marks that soon will turn into purple ones. Your legs turn weaker and weaker, and your bodyweight is only held by your belly pressing over the countertop as your climax is approaching.

Rolling back eyes, shivers running on your spine, degrading words by your master and violent thrusts pressing your g spot makes you finally reach the peak of pleasure. “M-master… can I… can I come??” you ask, begging him to let you finish. Kidd laughs maliciously and finally says “Cum for me, slave”. With a last deep thrust, you release the pressure forming over your lower stomach. Your whine probably was heard over the whole countryside, but you don’t really care, nor does Kidd. He finishes too, filling you up with his warm seed until you feel your womb almost exploding.

“Good slave, take it all inside for your Master” he says and bends over you, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. It’s the first time he does it, and you can’t help but feel a hundred butterflies flying inside you… ♥ ~

[muskywolfthings]

Kinkmas Day 3: Caught in the Act

This was supposed to be a fucking research session. “F-fuck, right there, right there..” People were being kidnapped for gods sake! “Shut. Up. Shut. Up.” Derek growled, extenuating each word with a rough slam of his hips against Stiles’.  The entire pack was counting on Stiles and Derek to put their fucking heads together, to come up with a plan! To save the day like they always did. To put aside whatever petty shit they were going through as a couple the past week, and get shit done. And still, here they were... “Jesus fucking Christ you’re so fucking tight, fucking virgin.” “Oh e-eat shit, you piece of- FUCK! Right there! Right fucking there, you piece of shit, fucking-mm mm hmph!” Stiles moaned, glaring back at Derek in the mirror across from them, as the older man clenched his palm tight around Stiles’ mouth. Effectively shutting him up. Derek slowed his pace. Smirking at Stiles, before glancing down at the teens hole to watch his fat cock slide in, and out. Stiles ass making the most delicious, visceral sounds as Derek slid all the way out. The boys hole winking and farting excess air, and precum back out from his deep fucking. Wet dribbling down his crack, which Derek expertly collected back up with the tip of his meat, before pressing back into Stiles wet fucking heat. Derek’s balls squelching against Stiles’ taint, as he began to thrust again.  The Alpha couldn’t even remember what it is that had sparked another bickering session, only that it ended with books being thrown on his end, a punch from Stiles’ and then the boy bent over, being deep-dicked within an inch of his life. Any fight between them that lasted longer than a week always ended the same way, but it never ceased to surprise Derek just how suddenly it would happen. Stiles, the shit that he was, arched his back, and threw his plump ass back on each of Derek’s thrusts, smug in the knowledge that, if Derek could actually bruise, his hips would be covered in them from Stiles’ excellent dick stroke game.  Broken free from his gut rearranging mindset for just a moment as Derek paused to appreciate the expertise being applied to his cock, Stiles reached back between his legs, where the Alpha’s low, meaty sack was dangling, and gripped it tight. Too tight. Nearly crushing the mans balls, sending Derek into a fit of howls. Not entirely unpleasurable, but he would’ve preferred some warning before Stiles just decided to crush his fucking nuts. Call him old fashioned.  “Get your fucking hands of my balls!” Derek shouted, claws pricking into Stiles’ hips, grip too rough, and yep, Stiles would absolutely be bruised to high hell in the morning. “Oh am I allowed to speak now, huh? Now that I’ve got your fucking nuts in my fist?” Stiles mocked, leaning back up against Derek’s chest- cock twitching wildy when he realized that Derek’s balls really were big enough, that he could sit up comfortably and still keep a firm grip of them down below his own balls. “Thought you liked it when I roughed them up. Smacked them. Bit them. Crushed them. Big strong Alpha afraid of feeling like a little bitch cuz he likes having his big manly sac pounded?” Stiles’ tone went from faux mockery, to hissed and heated, as he clenched his hole on Derek’s cock, and rubbed the mans balls against his taint roughly. Biting at Derek’s chin as the wolf lost a bit of steam, whining even as his cock began to swell with his nearing orgasm.  “Please, fuck- l-let them go, i’m gonna-” “Not until I tell you you can, i’m not done with this cock yet dude,” Stiles interjected, their dynamics shifting so rapidly it had him grinning.  Derek began to beg, to plead-conveniently not once muttering their safe word- as Stiles rolled his balls in his palm, tugging at them as he rode the mans cock deep into his own ass. Too busy shushing the pleading, and Derek to focused on the /pleasure/pain of it all, that neither of them noticed until it was too late.  ‘Are you guys alright!? We heard- oh Jesus Christ!” Scott yelled, having thrown the loft door open and rushing in-turning immediately on his heels and throwing his hands over his eyes. Derek’s howls of pain had been heard all the way across town, and he’d feared the worst. Run all the ay to the loft with a few of the others, and for what? For a fucking front row seat to his best friends fuck fest? Again!?  “Why didn’t you fucking knock!” Stiles shouted, body flushing with embarrassment as Derek doubled over, shielding Stiles, and most of their nakedness from view. Though soon as Stiles grip on his balls was gone, it was over for their Alpha. “I’m...f-fucki, i’m cumming, Scott, leave! Fuck, fuck Stiles.” Biting into Stiles’ shoulder, Derek rode out his orgasm with short, quick thrusts against Stiles’ ass- Stiles’ face beat red, as his mouth fell open, and the flood of Derek’s hot cum deep in his ass pulling a sound from his throat he never in his life needed his fucking best friend to hear.  “Liam turn around right now, cover your eyes!” Scott shouted, as his Beta slid to a halt in the doorway, recoiling in terror at the sight before him, already scarred before Scott could get his hands over the younger teens eyes.  “You brought Liam? Why does nobody fucking call before they do this shit!” Stiles half shouted, half moaned, barely able to catch his breath as he was crushed beneath Derek’s wait, and despite it all, his own neglected cocks need for release.  “We thought you guys were in danger!” Isaac called from out in the hallway, Erica shouting her agreement from somewhere further down, and Stiles was going to kill every single last one of them.  “Now would be an excellent time to get the fuck out and shut the door,” Derek warned, face still in Stiles’ neck, but he was already so over this entire interaction. “Invest in some fucking sound proofing, you nymphos! And I thought you guys were fighting? What the fuck even?” Scott whined, dragging Liam out by the boys head, handing him off to Isaac before he witnessed any more sin, before promptly slamming the door. Leaving Stiles in Derek in near silence, save for the sound of their joined panting. “ “I’m...going to make you fucking cum, and then we’re going to skin him alive,” Derek grunted, working through his sensitive cock shocks, to continue thrusting into Stiles, who just groaned brokenly and nodded. Fisting a hand around his own cock, and urging Derek to bite him.  “You fucking got off on that, didn’t you?” Derek asked after, as they shared sweet, cum filled kisses, and nuzzled each others temples.  “Shut up before I punch you in the balls. Oh wait I forgot you were into that,” Stiles snarked, giggling like a fucking school girl when Derek growled, and flipped him over and off of the sofa. Asshole. 

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Some Goddamn Curtains

When I was in college, I kept getting the compliment, “Wow, your room is really nice for a guy.”  I never understood what that meant for the longest time.  Then I actually paid attention to how most guys kept their dorm room. I once waited for a guy to get ready to head down to an event. I realized that I had never actually stepped foot in his room, much less even glanced inside of it. So when he stepped out and said he was ready to go, I leaned to the side over his shoulder and oh my god it was like downtown Baghdad during the worst of the Iraq War. Damn bruh, you live like this? I liked all my college roommates but the most untidiest one was in sophomore year. He left his toothbrush lying around in the open in a sock drawer, and it would end up somewhere else each night. Maybe he liked to play scavenger hunts to keep himself on his toes? He never put the DVDs back in their respective cases. I once couldn’t wait to watch Iron Man with a friend at their dorm, only to open the case once I got there and realize that my roommate had replaced it with Season 1 of Martin. He would also do this thing where he would drink a can of Coke (that I bought), not finish it, put it back in the fridge, then later open a new can of Coke that he didn’t feel like finishing, and rinse and repeat. First year roommate wasn’t that bad. Third year roommate was nearly as tidy as I was. Then in my fourth and final year I lived alone,  so my sense of the idea that “guys were messy” didn’t really hit me because I’ve only had one bad experience and chalked it up to “It was just that one guy”. I’m 31, and by now I have noticed people saying things like, “Oh my God I was actually thinking about what curtains I liked and I’m such an adult. This is what adult thinking is like. I’m adulting now.”

I hate hearing shit like that. I grew up blithely admitting liking things that an adult would “normally like”, such as curtains. The curtains thing came up in high school when I hung out at the senior lounge. The senior lounge was this bare room that looked like it was meant for old people to sit and play bingo. It was boring and dull and I hated it. It felt more lke a prison cafeteria really, with some worn out couches. I would bring my video games to that lounge, namely GoldenEye 007, to play with friends during our free period.  The room didn’t have any curtains, so at a certain time in the afternoon, the sun would beat down directly onto the screen, making it difficult to see properly. A lot of us would squint and move closer or lean forward.  I then said, “This room needs some curtains.”

A pause, and then someone replied, “Did you just say this room needs curtains?” And I was like, “Yeah. Maybe something blue. Something dark.”

And he looked at me and scoffed, and all the other guys did the same - they gave me this funny sideways glance and scoffed. I asked what the problem was, but they mostly shook their heads in disbelief. I was frankly annoyed by their response. So I said, louder, “This room needs some goddamn curtains”, because I thought it was perfectly fucking reasonable that a person would logically do something about the fucking glare from the fucking sun. Maybe they liked blinds better. Who knows? But it took me ages to fully realize two things:  1. It’s not socially acceptable for boys to be interested in style - whether it be about living spaces or clothes. I was fiercely made fun of for the clothes I wore as a kid throughout young adult life. I hated all kinds of t-shirts. I think growing up thin and gangly made me too self-aware of my arms. But I never specifically wanted to wear anything that had a band name or a company logo or even my favorite video game or movie. I would feel like a walking advertisement, and that would piss me off. I often liked ties, long-sleeved shirts, and sweaters. I never left the house in sweatpants or pajamas. I always had to comb my hair and put on a good shirt. Sweatpants were when you worked out or worked around the house fixing things.  I grew up in Catholic school, so we had uniforms. On dress down days, my classmates would come up to me and say, “Eddie, you were supposed to dress DOWN, not up” or “I can’t believe you’re wearing that on a dress down day!”.  I didn’t have a problem with people dressing how they dressed. Sure I was never into the goth thing, but I didn’t want to judge. I just wanted to dress how I wanted to dress. And maybe I was influenced in some way by how my parents dressed me up, and maybe other times I did feel embarrassed, but I knew that at the end of the day I would wear what felt most comfortable to me. Sometimes my mom would give me a sweater that was a tad too bland, so I went to the bathroom once I got to school and took it off. I would like the polo but untucked it and unbuttoned the top buttons. Half-and-half. Right idea, but lemme wear it like this instead. College was really when I started to develop my everyday style, my “main outfit”, like a video game character. I always wore some untucked button-down shirt with a tie, jeans, and sneakers. I liked it. It was this weird blend of dressing up and dressing down. People my age thought I was overdressed but my parents and people over 50 complained that I was underdressed. It was great! It feels so special to piss off both sides! My parents still remember the time I got an award at college and I went up the stage wearing that getup. You look at the picture and see the students standing side-by-side in nice dresses and dockers, and then there’s me wearing jeans and sneakers with a shirt and tie.  There always seemed to be this false dichotomy for how men should look and be - either the dapper “metrosexual” man who was slightly effeminate or the rough-and-tumble strong man who didn’t need to use an umbrella when it rained and never cared to fix his hair because that’s some “gay shit” for silly city folk. That false dichotomy is always played out in media. There’s a million buddy cop movies about the book-smart guy who is suave and sophisticated teaming up with the street-smart guy who is all muscle and manly and goes for the more practical route. Yin and Yang. Hot and cold. Good cop and bad cop. Lucky and Wild. Tango and Cash. But growing up I thought, “Why not both?” I loved watching James Bond as much as I loved watching Indiana Jones. Why couldn’t I be both if I really wanted to? It fit me best to play both roles. I AM GOING TO MIX THESE TWO THINGS AND YOU CAN’T FUCKING STOP ME! I WILL BE BOTH BOOK-SMART AND STREET-SMART. I KNOW THE QUADRATIC EQUATION AND HOW TO CON SOMEONE. THE ULTIMATE LIFEFORM.  The fucking worst though is being an adult now and hearing women wish they knew a guy who “dressed properly”, and men complimenting my clothes saying I look sharp.

Fuck all of you, honestly. 2. Young people are afraid to admit they like things that adults like. I grew up with extended family members living in cozy homes. I liked to admire their grandfather clocks, their decanters, their entertainment center, their offices and their chairs. I liked to wander around their houses during the holidays and poke my nose into their closets and admire old things. Maybe it’s something that an only-child might relate to the most. I wasn’t required or asked to be upstairs to attend a younger or older sibling. The adults just did their own thing and so I wandered off. Ikea always tickled my fancy as a kid. I would wander through the model rooms of offices and bedrooms and bathrooms, and I found whatever felt coziest to me and pretended that I was home. Better yet, I sometimes daydreamed that the entire Ikea facility was my home. How about that? Tired of sleeping on the bunk bed? Go to the next room to the big bed. I feel like cooking in that kitchen today, not this one. Some days I’ll feel more serious and work in the wooden office desk and other days I’ll feel silly and be in the kids room. I’ll take the whole building, please. This is where I live now. Swedish meatballs for dinner and creamy European chocolate bars for dessert every day. Young people fear being old and facing responsibilities. That doesn’t mean you liking these things makes you older. Taste and style is part of who you are, and there’s no shame if you have an interest in some bath mats or a nice decanter when you’re 20 or 17.

When I lived in my single dorm back in senior year of college, I realized that I was truly living alone for the first time. It brought some sanity to me that I didn’t know I needed. I was able to organize things how I saw fit, and hosted parties whenever I wanted. If I felt like something needed adjusting, I didn’t need to ask anybody’s permission. I really started exploring my sense of style and taste. As I grew up, I developed really specific tastes about where I would live: 1. Everything has to make sense. The placement of shelves, TVs, desks, dressers, paintings, pictures, all have to feel like they are easily viewed and accessible without needing to awkwardly turn to face them or reach them.  2. Symmetry is not always necessary but still good to fall back on when you don’t know what to do. 3. I never liked to sit with my back to the window(s) or the door. I always needed to see who or what was going to approach me or look at me.  4. TVs should never go on top of fireplaces.  5. Always have some kind of drawing room for guests to wait.  6. Never put your keys or sensitive documents in the foyer, drawing room, or wherever else strangers can easily find them the minute they walk into the house.  7. Open concept is pretentious.  8. It is far easier to cook if you have an island in the kitchen.  9. McMansions are the bane of style. Fake balconies, fake shutters, brick facades - everything about them is evil.  10. Get some goddamn curtains.

[sjw-publishings]

Man-aging your time

Foreign Relations

(Asian twist on @dumb-and-jocked story, Corporate Progression)

Edgar Han was never fond of conferences, specially ones he was forced to attend due to pressure from his company. As a college intern, he gave it his all to ensure a good grade and possibly a head-start in his business.

He was wrong.

Working at Wong.Inc, the 21 year old was constantly asked and tasked with menial errands all day, filing papers and serving coffee. Now he was asked to be an usher for a conference meeting with TenHaken Corporation.

Dressed in a black polo and khaki pants, he tapped his dress shoes impatiently, being forced to come far too early and way before any of the other interns showed up. He was pretty lean, sort of lanky as he did not do sports. Long hair was tied to a ponytail, as he kept it maintained and groomed so as to not leave a bad impression.

He wondered if it was because they were aware that he and his boyfriend, two of their interns, were gay. But he seemed to be getting the shorter end of the stick...maybe cause he actually cared about his grades and future career, they ended up treating him harsher?

Nevertheless, he did have a slimmer of hope, maybe if he left a good impression today, he could maybe...

“Aren’t you going to shake hands with me?”

Standing before him was a tall, handsome daddy who was bulked up with muscle, thick biceps straining against his suit, and the most devious looking grin that screamed corporate evil...but....it was so hot.

“S...Sorry Mr TenHaken Sir!”

He extended out his hand, as the Boss of the other company grabbed it and gave it a good shook. Snapping his mind away from his worries...and distracting it with...his strong scent infused with cologne.

And those hands, those warm..., and manly hands.

“So you are one of the few interns that...?”

“Yes...alongside my boyfriend...”

He responded in a daze, entranced by the scent. Yes he may go through several hoops just to impress the higher ups, even at the expense of his relationship with his boyfriend, but he would never reveal their relationship in a workplace setting...especially considering some of the higher ups may be homophobic.

A brief wave of disgust shown in the Boss’s countenance, before he returned to grinning madly as he let go of the shake. Giving a firm pat on the young asian man’s back, he spoke in his richly, deep voice.

“Splendid, you’d be perfect...”

The man sauntered into the conference room, bringing along most of his musky aroma and thick cologne with him...but of course, leaving some behind. The young intern blinked, realising what a poor attempt of a greeting that was, and to the BOSS of the other company too!

What is he going to do?

“Did ya watch the game last night?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, a suburban looking man in a suit asked him the question, sticking out his hand with a dopey looking grin. Almost sporting a similar thickness of the cologne the Boss wore...but more mild...and friendly.

“Uh...maybe I did?”

He grabbed ahold of the other mans hand, giving a firm shake as rehearsed. He may just be an intern, and maybe he fumbled with the greeting with the Boss, but he was going to give it his all with the next few introductions.

The shake, while it was a matter of seconds, seemed to last longer in his mind, as he felt the warm spreading from the thickness of those fatherly palms, and rough wrinkles that had definitely were from the years of prime in his youth.

“What maybe I did? Of course I did!”

Of course I did? He thought, scratching his head with his other hand, which felt oddly warm as well. Mirroring the other, as those palms expanded with a former grip, sun-kissed tan bathing their digits as it spread all over their palms. Crunching the older man’s hands, as the university intern smirked.

“Of course I did!”

“Atta Boy!”

The older father figure looped his arms around him, as he...slightly reluctantly, did the same. The tan had spread down his wrists, past the forearms and to those biceps. Giving a firm masculine boost as testosterone swelled his arms, thickening like he definitely lifted a lot.

He wasn’t into sports much, but he did lift a little...especially after some pestering with Mr Craig, the really nice man from the other company. Tasked to do some stock checking and other stuff before the event, they chatted quite a bit and surprisingly had clique very well.

“So what are ya doing out here shaking hands?”

“Oh I...uh was asked to shake hands?”

“What are ya talking about? That stuff was for the interns!”

Bedgaric blinked, interns? But wasn’t he...no. He moved past that stage a couple of years ago, and thinking back, the company never asked him to go stand at the door and shake hands when he was interning in Wong.Inc.

But he felt like...he needed to do this. Setting a good example for the future interns, and hoping they don’t slack off like his lazy young boyfriend. Straightening his back, not noticing he was now about the same height as Craig.

“Its merely in my good nature...gotta reflect well on the company!”

“And that’s right why we bonded right away!”

The man beamed, feeling at ease with his colleague as they were often paired together to strengthen relationships between both companies. Despite the obvious age and ranking differences, it was clear to the company that he was fit for the job.

As his mentor-figure rubbed against his sore shoulders, his shoulder blades clacked, as it was evident that the dark tan worked its magic there. Working out and making up for those wasted years, the 28 year old definitely made gains as his back rippled against the Polo tee he wore. Strapping muscles that he could recall several men, and girls ogling after him on a daily basis. Though he was into boyfriend Conan, many others were also into him too.

“Anyways...remember that bit? TOUCHDOWN!”

“Ah yeah! Man was that CLOSE!”

Resting his strong muscular arm easily on the other man, he was really into football, though he never made the team when he was younger. Too much of a pansy back then, but Craig really manned him up like the big brother figure he is.

Often watching football during the breaks, and a couple of roughhousing with Craig and a couple of his older friends. They had a blast!

Bendgardict, being the tall and bulky asian man he is, was assigned to be on defence. Recalling the impact the football nearly hitting his core, but his strong goalkeeper-esque hands catching it...definitely something he picked up during his soccer days.

Indeed, he had played soccer a ton, he was a jock after all. Legs thickening to hard trunks, as the hot tan spread with light dusting of hair at every spot. Feet surely sprung forth, as the heavy clunking of those dark polished dress shoes now spotted his attire.

Giving a huge SWING to Craig, broad shoulders rippling beneath his attire, he crossed his arms and smirked. Clutching every football toss to his core, abdominals crunching numbers as pectorals bounced back with even more force, a defender to the core, that’s the man he was.

Standing firm and tall, his polo shirt could barely contain the rippling maturity as the sound of satisfying rips echoed his larger bod. Material shifting to a more presentable cotton, bleached white as sleeves rolled themselves neatly down his arms. Spotting on a white dress shirt with the first few buttons unbuttoned, accenting his frame like the Chad he is.

He had some hesitations displaying himself, but he shook it off, knowing if God gave him a body like this, he should use it to the fullest. God? Must be Craig’s Church influencing him quite a lot, he believed, still new to it though.

“From production manager to executive director...Eugene definitely went bonkers last night...”

“Hah! Serves him right to go against our team!”

The two of them continued chatting about work experiences, the game, and altogether men stuff. Time flew by effortlessly, alongside maturity. The Associate ranking up as they laughed heartily.

It wasn’t long until the asian man surpassed his peer in height, stopping at 6ft 2. He laughed heartily like a big brother, even though he was clearly younger...not by much, 5 years or so.

But he certainly ranked up a lot, after all, he did share similar beliefs to his higher ups and colleagues...those ‘hip’ millennials call them boomers, but their values really resonated within him. Something his...intern would not understand, with all his constant flirting in the office.

Presentability. An upper coating of expensive fabric layered over his dress shirt, as well as replacing that of his pants. Beige with faint magenta straight lines, ironing the wrinkles over his suit pants and jacket combo with a matching pocket square.

He had earned quite a handful sum after all, spending it wisely in investing in stocks and proper attire. Not like those games that millennials waste their money on.

Masculinity. This was done without question, which represented his sunbaked complexion from working out and bonding with other men in the field.

It was also without question that the ridiculous ponytail began slowly retracting upwards, with sides shaved like a real man always would, especially in sports. Combing sideways with neat dabbing of gel, as the hard crusty dusting of aftershave went all over his upper lip and strong jaw.

He was nice, but pretty jock-centred in his beliefs. Both in his faith and how a man oughta behave. Big strong and masculine, the provider of the household, man and woman.

Man and woman...?

“Will see ya and the family on church this Sunday!”

“See ya!”

His mouth instinctively responded on autopilot, as his goofy grin waved goodbye to his long time friend, colleague, and church mate. His eyes blinked momentarily in light shock, making way to the bathrooms, and quickly closing behind one of the stalls.

LOCK!

“What...what in tarnation is happening to me? Haha?”

The stresses melted away into a grin, he always had a good natured stress-free persona, even when that gay intern confessed to him when he wasn’t into such things...wait no....

He felt compelled to...what? He barely knew the intern, plus he was more into ladies...in fact, he was sure his buddy Craig mentioned something about a family right? The air conditioning neutralising his heat emitting, he quickly fished for his-

“So warm...so fatherly...”

The middle aged man tugged his breeding tool beneath his pants, letting out soft groans like he was young. Ah the younger days, so simple, when men just liked women...when men just liked women!

Blushing to himself, as he tugged ferociously, letting out loud gasps as he felt his behind tightening with a SPANK. Disciplining away any penetration like his father would if he did not excel in his studies, swelling up to a sweet bubble butt reserved for...his love one.

He was raised in a traditional household after all, strong honour and an expertise in Mandarin Chinese. Which was why he landed his position in the first place.

But of course, he thanked God for everything after coming to know him in his college days. Strictness mixed with Kindness, Honour mixed with a loving father, Mr Benedgadict Kan understood who he was, as the firm but gentle brushes against his package were too much to bear.

“Forgive me...C...C....Cindy!”

He was a faithful man wasn’t he? It feels strange to even think about such ‘millennial’ thoughts! Haha, never understood them. Thankfully his wife Cindy and him raised their children well in the lord! Speaking of her...oh man!

“Cindy...you’re so beautiful!”

Gone were the dates of a gay man, replacing by a marriage lasting over two decades. Time well spent with her, His heart pumped in love with HER! Manhood rose in length and girth at the thought of her luscious hair, and soft lips that just made the man outta him.

Man and woman

THRUST!

She is your wife, and you are her husband.

THRUST!

You are a father.

“Ooooaaaah!”

The forty eight year old asian man gave a huge holler as he let out the remains of his homosexuality in an innocent bliss, slumping back as his eyelids closed without hesitation.

Stains looped around his left ring finger as a good man stays devoted to his wife. His member remained sturdy, hard and manly, but at rest. A golden necklace materialised, symbolising the gift she got him on their anniversary.

His married hand gave a good firm pat on his pouch, instinctively putting back his tool into hiding and zipping his pants up.

Almost as if Benedict Kang never tugged his manhood by himself, only engaging in it when multiplying with his wife. He was a good faithful man after all, his new genetics beamed to reflect that as he slowly opened his beady eyes.

“Oh lordee...Where am I?”

Managing Director Kang was your all around nice boss...dad guy. Ruffling his gelled hair, he laughed as he remembered praying and thanking the lord for his successes in his company and in his life.

Prayer time was always priority. He got results done, and had more than enough time to spend time with his family as well as watch the game. It had cut close sometimes, nearly missing a business proposal due to his son’s football game in school, but he always made it in the Bened-Nick of time.

Speaking of which...

“Oh shucks! What time is it?”

He quickly fished himself up from his mediation pronto, unlocking the door and strolling down towards the door entrance of the conference meeting, he quickly glanced at his ‘IanAs’ watch.

“Just in time! The Conference meeting was about to start!”

Mr Benedict Kang flashed his most genuine grin, stress melting away from the atmosphere as his wholesome presence was made known as he jovially walked in.

“Amen to that!”

[horrorslashergirl]

Rudolph Myers

.This one wormed its way inside my head when I was doing some Christmas shopping and saw a Rudolph costume and taught ‘Michael sure would look hot with horns’.

I am sure that I’m going to hell. Oh well....Cheers guys and an early Merry Christmas!~

Michael Myers x Reader

Warning: NSFW content below...you’ve been warned.

Christmas was probably your second favorite holiday, first been Halloween thanks to your hard as a rock boyfriend. He wasn’t so excited peer say to Christmas, it was too jolly for his brutal personality, beside he hated snow and how his hands were freezing on the handle of his infamous kitchen knife.

For your sake of course he sucked up, after all you didn’t complain this years Halloween when he came all blood dripping in your house, making a mess that you needed almost a week to clean up.

So here you were decorating the Christmas tree that maybe was a bit too big. Your luck was that you bought new Christmas decorations these year so you had enough to fill the whole tree. You tried to reach the higher branches of the tree with no such luck so you went to get a chair, climbing on it to put glitter silver stars.

As you were done with the stars, you took another box of decorations, those been little angels, but when your eyes looked up in the entry of the living room was no other than Michael. You didn’t even hear him; sometimes you cursed his stealthy moves, but right now all you needed to do was to bite your lower lip, trying not to burst into laughters.

Right now Michael was probably fumming behind his mask that amusingly had a pair of reindeer horns with golden bells on the faux hair of his mask and to match the horns a deep red Rudolph nose on the nose of his latex mask. Looking down you noticed a black leather collar with golden bells on it.

Yes, you remember that you persued Michael in dressing up for Christmas, saying it would be fun, since you pleased him in wearing these year Halloween a kitten costume, so it was only fairplay. You had to admit he looked quiet cute like that. If only you can imagine the Shape of Haddonfield dressed up like one of Santas reindeer, oh God! It was prieceless.

“Well, hello there Rudolph~” you teased and giggled, your only respons was Michael grumbling under his mask. He walked to the kitchen probably to feast opon more Christmas cookies, knowing his sweet tooth and appetite. You went on with your decorating, when the chair became to small for the last brances of the tree. Getting down you went to get the ladder, putting it next to the Christmas tree and climbing to finish the top. Maybe some 5 minutes passed when you heard bootsteps coming closer to you, stopping right behind you. Probably Michael wante to see your finish on the Christmas tree; that was when you felt your skirt been lifted a little. Turning your face to see what that big giant creeper was doing, your face felt like it was on fire.

That little shit peeked under your skirt! And worse you were wearing your favorite red lacy see-through panties. You were ready to kick him in the face when his strong arms picked you up with ease, spinning you around, until you were thrown on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, your face almost level with his volouptous derier.

“H-Hey! Let me d-down! MYERS!” you screamed as you banged your small fists on his broad hulk like back, as he took long calculated strides upstairs to his old bedroom and now presently you twos love nest. He kicked open the bedroom door with a bang and closed it with his foot. As he toosed you down the fluffy bedsheets you looked up at the tall hunk of a man as he loomed over you at the end of the bed, just like a predator if only for the Christmas costume, you couldn’t possibly take him seriously.

Still, with that leather collar and those alluring horns he looked kind of kinky. Maybe it could yurn out to be fun. Your lips pulled up in a naughty smirk as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Well then....come here then....Rudolph~” you beckoned Michael with your pointing finger, signalling him to come closer.

He didn’t needed to be told twitch; with one knee pressed on the end of the bed he crawled on all fours to your curvaceous form. As he was now on top of you, his piercing dark eyes meet your glossy shiny ones and you couldn’t hold his gaze anymore; his stare was just so intense even after such a long time he still had these effects on you.

His fingers trailed your form, from your thighs to your hip, then ghosting over your ribs and stopping over your collarbone, where there laied past bitemarks and hickeys from the last love-making you had with Michael. Those bruises where fading, but no worries, because the man above you would make sure to leave new ones today.

His hand moved a little higher until he reached your neck, where in a fraction of a second he had his large hand in a vice like grip on your throat, not enough to crush it to pieces to enough to play with your breath, showing you that he was in complet control, no buts or ifs; just like everytime. Your breath hitched and you let out a gasp of surprise, your tiny hands clutching on the sleve of his coveralls.

Been a little more daring today you moved your leg over his hip, the heel of your foot massaging the muscle of his thigh, making him freeze up a little only to slam his other hand on the headboard of the bed, making a loud noise echo in the empty two story house. Maybe a little bit too daring. The hand on the headboard trailed down to your shoulder just like the hand on the neck, both of them making their ways to the front of your button-up shirt and just like that he ripped it open, making buttons fly over the room down to the floor.

He was so rough and brutal in his movements; he was just himself, taking pleasure in seeing your shocked and wide-opened eyes look up at him. Michael was just making sure that your eyes were focused on him, he hated when you avoided eye contact with him. He pulled the bottom of his mask up, only for his mouth to be exposed. You noticed a little bit of stubble on his chin, making his apparence more roughish and manly. He shaved, well after he meet you you teached him some self care, altough you enjoyed when he had that second day stubble.

His mouth crashed on yours, taking your breath away. He was by far the complet opposite of vanilla, but you enjoyed it; it was so much more fun and he always managed to surprise you. His kisses where full of tongue and teeth crashing together, like a spicy up dance. You could get drunk in his kisses all day, having that taste of candies and blood from biting your lip to hard. As he pulled away from your tongue, his teeth caught your already bleeding bottom lip between his dangerous teeth that you knew could tear into flesh if he wanted to. His dark eyes remained on yours, looking at you as if he was saying ‘I dare you to disobey me’. Michael could talk and he did, but on rare occasions, but his eyes were speaking much more to you.

He let go of your lip as your head hit the pillow. Looking up at the dark man above you that was now sitting on his knees between your legs, with an too obviouse bulge inside his mechanic suit, he licked the remaining blood from his upper lip, his tongue ghosting outside his mouth like a snake. In the dark you could see the mischief that laied in Michaels eyes, even with his mask you could read them like an open book; maybe because he let you. One hand moved to your hip and turned you around, laying on your stomach, but not to long as his strong killer hands dig into your hips pulling your lower body up, sitting you on all fours. That was until one hand pushed right between your shoulder blades, making your face hit the pillow.

You knew what he meant ‘Face down, Ass up.’ What you learned about Michael was that he was a very complicated lover....in the bedroom. He could switch from been sensual to complet animalistic in a matter of second; altough the sensual part was very rare, just when he felt in a very good mood and now he wasn’t exaclly to happy, mainly because of your little teasing, mocking the Boogyman; such a wrong move.

Lifting your skirt up and ripping it in half he could now clearly see your lacy covered heat, a wet spot on the red fabric from the previous foreplay. His hand moved from your thigh to one of your buttcheeks, giving it a harsh slap followed by a rough gropping, leaving fingermarks. You only could moan at the harsh treatment, knowing it was in vain to fight him; let him take what he wants; that’s the rule. He did the same to the other buttcheek, then his fingers ghosted over your covered rose, just his fingertips touching you a little, teasing you, making you squirm. If you turned you would see his devious smirk as you let out wanton moans over and over again, muffled by the pillow.

Taking the top of your panties in his hand he pulled it up, giving your aching womanhood a good wedge, making you holler.

“M-Michael....Oh God!” you bt your lip as tears followed down the corners of your gloosy lust-filled eyes. The piece of lingery was now rubbing so harshly right between your lower lips, making you grind your teeths at the brute behind you who was probably now smirking smugly at your flustered form.

“E-Easy there R-Rudolph.” you looked at him from the corner of your eyes, deciding to poke the bear a little, after all you didn;t wanted to give him full on satisfaction. Instantly Michaels mouth was in a straight line and befor you could even blink anymore, he pulled your panties aside, sticking two long fingers right in your heat, knuckle deep, grinding it as you screamed at the force. His other hand was crushing right behind your neck, making sure you staied put. As you clenched on his fingers, your peak coming closer and closer until he withdrawed his fingers, making you whimper at the lose you were feeling in your stomach.

Your whimper only stopped when you could hear the faint sound of the metallic zipper of his coveralls been pulled down. Taking his lengh out he pulled the head of it on your lower lips, rubbing the hot pink head on your slit, coating it in your juices. It felt so hot that your knees where shaking in anticipation, knowing damn well what that monstrous manhood of his could do to your body. He was the complet definition of succulent male anatomy and you loved it, completly; you would cherrish this man to the end of your life.

You let out a gasp as the bulbous head of his cock slide inside your dripping folds, making your walls clench in anticipation as the lengh slide in inch by inch until he was inside, completly to the hilt, making your grind your ass on his hips, making him growl at your teasing gesture, until he grippied your hips in a dead like lock, giving you the simple silent phrase ‘I am in control.’ All you could o was accept his harsh control.

He pulled almost all of it out, letting just the head inside, then slamming back inside and again and again, over and over again; picking up his speed with each thrust, making your buttcheeks jiggle, with the occasional spankings. His sweaty chest moved over your back as his teeth grazed over your shoulder, nipping here and there, some bites very deep, other just teasingly there. Your eyes rolled inside your head as the head of his lengh hitted your cervix, making sweet shivers of pleasure crawl up your spine.

The hand that wasn’t pinning you down by your neck, sneaked between your legs, his thumb and index finger pinching and rubbing the little bud of nerves under the hood, sending electryfing shocks all over your sweating body, your toes curling with each thrust of Michaels hips. You knew he was getting closer too just from the rapid pace that he picked, the pistoning of his hips getting more sloppy, not to mention the erotic growls and groans that he let out in your ear as you felt the twitching of his lengh inside you.

With one final thrust you felt ropes of cum hitting your walls and cervix, painting your walls white. It was so much for you and he didn’t even stopped.

“Cum.” That sentence that leaved his chapped lips in a deep and roughish voice, made your walls clench around him, sending you on cloud nine, your nails creating little holes in the bedsheets that you were cluching in your fists until your knuckles turned white from presure.

In the silent bedroom all you could heard was both of you trying to catch your breathing after the intense love-making. He pulled out slowly and before both of your juices could leak out he pulled your lacy wet panties over your heat, then giving you one final spank over your red buttcheeks.

“Great....now my ass is as red as your nose, Rudolph.” you complained, trying to sit up and go to the shower, only to stumble over your steps. He smirked at your limping form as he watched his cum dripping down between your thighs.

He might enjoy from now on Christmas if each year would turn out like this one. That’s what Michael taught as he pulled his coveralls all the way down, leaving him naked as he walked to the shower where you were relaxing; his southern Rudolph standing up on attention already.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me - Chapter 49

Warning: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​, @ocfairygodmother​

She sits on the edge of the front porch as she watches him work. The sun harsh and punishing as it  beats down on broad shoulders and back, wide chest and powerful arms; rivers of sweat glistening under the brilliant light. The perspiration that dampens his hair makes it look several shades darker; sides and back freshly shaved, the top growing in quickly and beginning to fall across his forehead.  Sunglasses on and barefoot, clad in only a pair of cargo shorts that sit dangerously low on his hips. Every muscle in his upper body bulging and twisting with each swing of the axe; movement easy and effortless as he chops and splinters logs from a  haphazardly stacked pile Koen had left near the fire pit. It’s a thing of beauty to observe. How that body moves and the power that inhabits it. The veins that protrude in those thick, strong forearms, the multitude of scars and tattoos that use his skin as a canvas.

Even after nearly seven years together and five children,  it’s hard NOT to lust after someone that looks like THAT.  He’s the embodiment of masculinity; brawn and immense strength, bravado and confidence without the air of cockiness. Rough skin and large callused hands and an intensity and edge that are always lingering just under the surface.  But there’s other things that make him the man he is. The compassion and the gentleness that he possesses; extraordinary patience and an ability to keep calm, cool, and collected even when the rage is beginning to build. It’s the way he’s so secure in that masculinity; never shying away from things like  braiding his little girl’s hair and daring anyone to tell him it’s not the most manly EVER. It's the ferocity behind his desire to protect what -and who he considers ‘his’; a steadfast loyalty and faithfulness that never breaks. When he loves, he loves big. He’s ‘all in; dedicating his entire heart and soul and giving nothing but fierce and unwavering devotion.

She’s the lucky one. The beneficiary of it all. Never remembering a time that someone had given that much of themselves to her; never questioning their feelings or second guessing her own. No one else had ever made her feel the things he does. Not just a mix of overwhelming and all consuming love and unbridled carnal want and need, but the feeling of being safe and secure. That knowledge that someone will do anything...stop at nothing...to protect her. Mark had only ever been interested in hurting others; dedicating himself to inflicting as much emotional and physical pain and turmoil as he could. Tyler commits himself to fixing those things; quietly -and without needing acknowledgement or praise- attempting to right another man’s wrongs.

He’s grinning as he approaches. Wiping dirty palms against the thighs of his shorts, swiping a forearm across his sweaty brow. “What are you smiling about?”

“Just admiring the scenery,” Esme says, and takes a sip from the bottle of beer in her hand. “And it’s very nice scenery.”

That grin widens, and he places a hand on either side of her, palms flat against the wood of the porch; bending down and  pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And you call me biased.”

“All the women thirsting after you are proof I’m NOT biased. Cashiers at the grocery store, moms on the playground, at the school. Millie’s teacher. I hear she’s very determined when it comes to you. That she tried picking you up at the bar the other night.”

“Who told you that?”

“Ovi. Don’t underestimate his loyalty to me. He told me she was trying to jump on your dick. And that she didn’t seem to be taking no for an answer.”

“I might have been a little harsh.”

“You? Harsh? Never.”

He smirks.

“He also told me that you were a good boy. That you behaved yourself.”

“You were worried I wouldn’t?”

“I wasn’t worried about what you’d do. Some of those women are very persuasive.”

“They can try all they want. My dick’s taken. That’s what I told her. It belongs to someone else. Yours is the only pussy it wants to be in.”

Esme’s eyes widen. “You said that? Those exact words?”

“That was loosely translated. But I did say my dick was taken and that no one other pussy can hold a candle to yours.”

“Oh God…” she lays a hand against her forehead. “...Tyler…”

“In my defence, I was pretty drunk.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that you would have still said it if you’d been sober. That’s such a Tyler thing to say.”

He shrugs. “I have absolutely zero filter left.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. You’re usually a man of few words, but when you DO talk…”

“I say what I mean, and I meant what I say.”

“Exactly. This should make trips to school very interesting, to say the least.”

“Is it wrong I’m looking forward to parent/teacher interview night? Seeing her squirm?  Wanna make out in front of her?”

“She’d probably enjoy that.”

“You like girls too. Is she your type?”

“I am going to pretend you didn’t say that. Because even if she was, I don’t cheat and I don’t share my toys. Especially my favorite one. My ALL TIME favorite. So if you’re into that kind of thing, you need a different wife.”

“Only thing...person...I’m into, is you.” He leans in and kisses her; soft and languid.

She isn’t bothered when  sweat  drips onto her from his forehead and hair, nor does she mind  the salty taste of it on his lips. And the tip of his tongue briefly brushes against her before he pulls away, chuckling when she digs her nails into the back of his neck; pressing her lips to the underside of his chin and nuzzling her nose against his throat.

“I probably stink,” he warns.

“You smell good. You smell like Tyler. And that’s the best smell in the world.”

He smiles at that, then runs a hand over her hair before pecking her cheek. “Longer we’re married, the sappier you get,” he teases, and then takes a seat beside her, grimacing at the discomfort in his back.

“I thought you said earlier I was getting cuddlier?”  She reaches behind her for a second bottle of beer, twisting off the cap before offering it to him.

“You’re getting both,” he says, accepting the beer and pressing a kiss of appreciation to her temple. It’s his first drink since they’d arrived. After getting his first taste of it after six months of sobriety, he’d thought he’d want more. That he’d NEED it. But the longing and feelings of desperation and the ghosts of dependency have settled down. It would have been easy to fall back into his old ways; faced with the multitude of booze Koen keeps scattered around the kitchen. But it hasn’t ‘called’ to him; the burdens and baggage of addiction surprisingly silent.

“Do you not know what sunscreen is?” Esme inquires, and he hisses when she presses her ice cold bottle against the back of his neck. “You’re going to be hurting tomorrow.”

“Can’t get much worse than I’m already hurting.”

She frowns. “That bad?”

He nods and takes a large swallow of beer.

“Knee? Shoulder? Back?”

“Back mostly. The other two feel pretty good for a change.”

“You need to be more careful. Once your back goes, you’re fucked. Maybe that’s what did it,” she presses the fingertips of one hand into the most troublesome spot; left side, middle of the spine, but close to the shoulder blade. Where the sniper’s bullet in Dhaka had torn into him.   “The fucking. Maybe you can’t partake in such strenuous activity anymore.”

He scowls. "You be quiet.”

“I’m just saying. You’re getting older and it would make sense if you start to slow down and your stamina starts to falter.”

“Just put a bullet in my brain. Do it. End it. Because the day I can’t do THAT…”

“What are you going to do if you ever need Viagra?” she teases, and digs her knuckles into his back.

“You know what…?”

She grins and presses a kiss to his shoulder. “What?”

“You’re not making me feel any better. I WILL shoot myself if that ever happens. The day I can’t get it up is the day I lose all will to live.”

“Don’t be such a baby. It's not the end of the world if that happens.”

“Fuck yeah it is. “

“And you question where Millie gets her dramatics from?”

“I am serious. That ever happens, I give you permission to put a gun to my head and pull the trigger. Put me out of my misery.”

“Not going to happen. You’re stuck with me. Even if you do get limp dick. I’m not letting you leave me with God knows how many grandchildren. We’re supposed to spoil them together, remember? You’re not allowed to die. I won’t let you.”

“I’m too fucking stubborn to die anyway.”

“I’m starting to think that’s true.”

She traces a fingertip over the scar left behind from the sniper’s bullet; the size of a dime and no longer raised or puckered. It’s the accompanying scar that’s worse; long and thin and jagged in some areas. Where the surgeon had to open him up and go in to locate the source of internal bleeding and repair a section of his  left lung. It would be easy to hate all those marks; all those parts of his body that have been damaged and torn apart. But they’re part of who he is. Testaments to just how strong and tenacious he is. Proof of his survival and how far he’s come.

“That one’s getting a lot better,” she remarks, as her fingers find the scar left behind from when Farhad had shot him, along with the one beside it; another surgical incision that had been needed to keep him alive. “It’s taken a long time.”

“Doesn’t bother you as much anymore.” It’s an observation. Not a question.

“Not really. I try not to think about the back story. And speaking of back…” her fingers glide over the multitude of deep, red gouges that travel both horizontally and vertically, some even overlapping. “...I wonder what happened here?”

Tyler smirks. “Gee. I wonder.”

“Sorry. I got a little carried away.”

“Just a little,” he grins, as he leans in to kiss her.  Laying  a hand on her thigh,  he gently spreads her legs and nods down at his own handiwork. “Sorry I bit you so hard.”

Esme grins. “You’re not sorry at all.”

“Actually, I’m not.”

She gives a derisive snort, then kisses his shoulder and leans into him; beer in one hand, the other resting on his lower back. “For the record, you need to unleash your inner lumberjack more. That was sexy to watch.”

“And you say I never do anything nice for you,” he chides.

“You’ve got the whole vibe going on. You’ve got the body, you’ve got the beard. Just need to get you a plaid shirt.”

“Fuck that. Look, I don’t mind fulfilling your little fantasies, but I have to draw the line somewhere. No plaid.”

“Fine,”  she huffs dramatically. “At the very least a tight white t-shirt.”

“Anyone ever tell  you you’re weird?”

“Only you. Every day. For almost seven years. You  put up with it though. I notice you stick around despite it.”

“I’d miss it too much. Your weirdness. You in general.”

She grins. “And you call me sappy?”

They lapse into a companionable silence. Nursing their beers as they enjoy the peace and quiet; no sound save for the faint rustling of the trees and bushes as the breeze passes through them. It’s unusual; not being surrounded by noise and activity. Their lives normally filled with chaos, even on the best days. And while they miss the normality of it -the kids voices, their bickering,  the baby crying- it’s a relief to get away from it for a little while. A chance to be alone together instead of having to battle for even a sliver of attention. Days often going by before they even have a normal conversation. So caught up in being parents that they’d forgotten what it was like to need each other. And Tyler drapes an arm across her shoulders and pulls her tightly against him; lips finding her temple, her hand moving to his side.

“Allison called,” Esme says, and places her now empty beer bottle beside her. “She said she couldn’t get through to your cell.”

“Battery’s dead. I haven’t bothered to charge it.”

“Disconnecting from the world. Your dream come true,” she teases.

“What did she want?”

“I had no clue what she was talking about. She said to tell you that she’ll send someone to do a thorough search and get back to you with any news.”

He nods.

“Tyler…”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to stress more.”

“Oh fuck me. What now?”

“It’s probably nothing. Which is another reason why I didn’t say anything. Why freak you out and then it turns out to be nothing?”

“Whatever it is, are the kids going to be okay? Should we have stayed home?”

“We made the right decision coming here,” he assures her. “We NEEDED to come here. And if it were something to worry about..if my instincts told me something was wrong...I would have been the first to cancel everything and insist we stay home.”

“So what is it? What do you have Allison looking into?”

“Millie saw something. SOMEONE. Or she thinks she did.”

“She told you that? That she saw someone? Where? Doing what?”

“She said she saw some lady going into the woods. That she yelled at this person to stop and she didn’t listen to her and kept going. I guess she told Ovi and he went and checked and didn’t find anything. Thinks it was probably just someone trying to get to the beach without going right on our property.”

“What do YOU think?”

Tyler shrugs. “I don’t know what to think. It’s easy to think the worst. Especially right now. But Ovi’s probably right. Probably nothing.”

“But you believe her? Millie? You believe she saw someone?”

“She wouldn’t lie about something like that. She even gave me a good description; pretty detailed. She’s crazy smart. Too smart for her own good. And insanely observant. It’s almost scary HOW observant she is. How keen her senses are.”

“Does that sound familiar? I told you; she’s just like you. She even has your instincts. She saw the Jeep driver; same time you did. And she’s not even six yet and she’s like that?”

“I’d be impressed...and proud...if it didn’t freak me out so much.”

“She’s YOUR daughter.  She has so much of you in her. I see more and more every day; you coming out in her. And that’s not a bad thing, Tyler. Think of all the amazing things she’ll be able to do when she’s older with skills like that.”

“That’s what scares me. What if she’s the one that follows in my footsteps?”

“I highly doubt Millie will grow up and want to be a mercenary. That girl loves her glitter way too much.”

He gives a small laugh.

“Can you imagine her with a pink Glock with a bejewelled grip? That would be Millie as a merc. Or she’d have a pink holster with Hello Kitty embroidered on it. THAT'S your daughter. She is not the one you have to worry about. My money is on Tanner. He’s flying under the radar; no one suspects him. I think he’s conning us all.”

“I never did get my fifteen bucks that he scammed me out of. Or should I say my seven fifty. Because I know full well you took the other half. You’re the one who put him up to it; don’t even try denying it. That had you written all over it. I’ve seen how you work. I saw you scam people in Dhaka. I heard you scam them in Ireland. You’re good.”

“It’s always the ones you least expect,” Esme reasons. “Us little ones are always the last ones anyone is ever suspicious about. But I’m not admitting to anything when it comes to Tanner.”

“He’s a momma’s boy. You could talk him into anything.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“That doesn’t work here. This is Australia. Not the States.”

“I’m not copping to anything. No matter how much you badger me about it.”

He grins. “I have ways you know. Ways of getting it out of you.”

“What are you going to do? Waterboard me? Go all Guantanamo Bay on my ass?”

“A lie detector test. A very accurate one.”

“Oh really…” her eyes playfully sparkle. “...what lie detector test?”

“It’s my own. I made it up. I developed it.”

“Sure you did…”

“All I have to do…” he leans into her, pressing a series of kisses along the left side of her neck  and across her shoulder. “...is this…” he slides a hand up the leg of her shorts, then splays his finger; one coming in contact with the crotch of her panties, the other with the back.   “...one finger here...one finger there…and…” he bites down on the sensitive spot between her neck and her shoulder.

She’s laughing  as she pushes him away. “You dick! That hurt!”

“I WAS going to do this…” he removes his hand from her shorts and grabs at her inner thing.

“Ow!” She yells, then dissolves into giggles and collapses onto her back as his fingers dig and pinch and aggressively tickle. “Tyler! You shit head! Stop! You’re going to make me pee my pants! Don’t be such an asshole!”

“You gonna admit to it?” His hand hand slides down to her knee, then back up again; passing over the crotch of her pants before settling on her stomach. “That you had something to do with it?”

“Never,” she declares. “You can’t get it out of me. You’ll never make me crack.”

“Oh, I can. And I will. You’re not the only one with special skills.”  He pulls up the bottom of her tank top, mouth warm and moist against as he licks a path just above the waistband of her shorts.

“Fuck you and your special skills,” she playfully retorts, and then squeals when he sinks his teeth into the flesh at the bottom of her right ribs. “What is wrong with you?! I’m going to have marks everywhere!”

“You mean like my back?”

“I have to mark what’s mine. My territory. And your ribs are pretty torn up, too. Sorry.”

“It’s a small price to pay,” he says, and then leans to kiss her. “Hungry?”

“Mmm...hmmm…” she arches her back and presses her hips against him.

“I meant for food. And you have the nerve to call me ‘extra’ when it comes to sex lately.”

“I can’t help it. I can’t help that my husband is insanely sexy and turns me on when he so as much looks at me.  I should have married someone uglier.”

“Maybe you should have worked with Gaspar,” he teases. “Doesn’t get much uglier than that.”

“I would have throat punched him for sure. Or killed him. He was too fucking creepy and way too fucking psychotic. That story you told me? About shooting the doves? That was fucked. Doves. Of all birds. Like the hell? I can’t believe you were ever friends with that guy. You’re nothing alike. What did you ever bond over?”

“Killing people.”

“Well THAT’S healthy.”

“Drinking. I was drunk most of the time I was around him. So I wasn’t the best judge of character. Are you hungry or not?”

She nods. “I could eat.”

“We’ll cook something out here. On the fire. Sound good?”

She nods. “I’ll whip up some sides. I have to make sure you keep the tank full. I don’t want to wear you out.”

“You can try, but you never will.”

“You’ve got five years on me,” she reminds him. “I’m still a youngin' compared to you. Pretty soon people are going to start thinking you’re my father.”

“Fuck you. I don’t look THAT old.”

“Older brother, then.”

He frowns. “That’s some Jerry Springer shit.”

“An American reference! After six and a half years of being married to me, you finally used an American reference. ‘I’m so proud of you, Tyler James.”

“You know…” his fingers pull down the bottom of her tank. “You’re lucky I love you.”

She smiles and lifts her head to kiss him. “Yes, I am.”

“I’m going to go and take a shower. Wanna come with?”

“What? You need me to scrub your back?”

A sly grin spreads across his face. “Among other things.”

****

With the sun down, the temperature has dropped considerably; breeze stronger, the cooler air trapped by the mountains surrounding them. After a dinner prepared over open flame, they lounge by the fire; nothing more than a blanket spread on the ground, his legs outstretched as she sits between them with her back pressed against his chest. One of her hands in possession of a glass of wine -the now half empty bottle sitting beside her- and the other resting on the forearm he has laying across her collarbone.  He’s only on his second beer of the day; still three quarters full and in no rush to finish it. It’s a good sign. He won’t be tempted to get heavily back into it in Mumbai; able to be fully engrossed and focused on the job at hand. There’s too much to lose; his entire existence, his whole world. There will be no second chances if he fucks up; he can’t afford to make any mistakes when it's his own family involved.

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about it. Mumbai. Mahajan and all his threats. He’d told himself he’d push them all onto the back burner; he’d think of nothing but their time away together. That he’d concentrate on nothing...no one...other than her and the reconnecting that they’re so badly in need of. But when nighttime settles, the dark thoughts always return. It’s when he’s most anxious. When things are quiet and still and he suddenly has time to think; both mind and hands idle. And now he can’t stop dwelling on it. On how he leaves for India in nine days time and whether or not he’s making the right decision when it comes to the people he’s taking along. Questioning whether it’s better to have a solid and structured game plan ahead of time, or if he should just let things fall into place once he gets there; go in with nothing but that list of names and decide there and then how to dispose of them.  Does he have all his ‘ducks in row’ at home; up to date life insurance policy, recent version of a will, an intricately carved out -and written out- plan on what Esme’s to do if he DOESN’T make it back? So engrossed with all the thoughts of doom and gloom, that he hadn’t even realized she was speaking to him until he feels her hand on the side of his face; that simple contact snapping him out of it, eyes not focusing on that concerned face looking at him.

“Are you alright?” she asks, and even in the glow of the campfire he can see the glassiness of her eyes and the flush to her cheeks; side effects of all the wine she’s consumed. It’s been months since she’d indulged in even a drop; cutting it out entirely once she found out she was pregnant with Addie.  And the return to it is hitting her hard and fast.

“Yeah,” Tyler gives a reassuring smile. “I’m fine.”

“Did you even hear what I said?”

He shakes his head.

“What were you thinking about? You looked really intense there for a minute. Like you were going to rip someone’s head off.”

“I must have zoned out. Wasn’t really thinking about anything. What did you say?”

“I asked if you heard back from Allison. About that woman Millie saw.”

“My phone’s inside. Charging. She’ll leave a message. Or call yours.”

“I haven't had a signal for hours.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek before she turns back around. “No one can bother us. Isn’t that what we want? Just get away from everything? Everyone?”

“We do have five kids at home,” she reminds him. “Someone should be able to get a hold of us if there’s an emergency.”

“Everything will be fine. No emergencies.”

“And this thing with the woman? The one Millie thinks she saw?”

“She definitely saw her. Just like she saw that guy in the Jeep. She didn’t imagine it and she’s definitely not making it up. Her description was too good and she’s adamant that she saw this person. Even got pissed when the boys suggested she was imagining things. There’s no doubt in my mind that she saw someone.”

“Do you think it’s something to worry about?”

“If I did, we wouldn’t be here right now and you know that.”

“I DO know that. I know you’d stop at nothing to keep them safe...to keep us ALL safe...if you thought there was a legitimate threat. It just sucks that we even think about things like this.”

“Yeah, it does. But that’s what you get for getting mixed up with me.”

“Don’t start. I knew what I was getting into it. I knew what kind of life you were living and all the toes you’d stepped on along the way. It didn’t matter to me. I just wanted to be with you.  I can handle whatever comes with it. With you.”

“YOU can. But what about our kids? We probably should have thought about that beforehand.”

“It was too late to think about anything. Millie was on her way; whether we were prepared or not. And regardless of what you did...what you DO...for a living, you deserve to have a life. You deserve to be happy and be surrounded by people who love you and need you and want you around. I know you don’t think you deserve all of that, but you do. More than anyone else deserves it.”

Smiling, he presses a kiss to her temples and then takes a swallow of beer.

“And I know you sometimes think it's selfish; for getting married and having kids and bringing all of us into a life like this. But it’s not. You’re not a selfish person, Tyler. You’re selfless, if anything. You always have been.”

“You think pretty highly of me,” he teases.

“I do. I’m pretty fond of you, actually. I’m going to keep you. My life would suck if you weren’t  in it.  Do you remember our old apartment?”

“Just outside of Sydney. Yep. How could I forget that place? First time I’d lived with someone in five years. If you can call it living with someone; I was only there on weekends when I was allowed home from the rehab place.”

“I kind of miss that apartment,” she muses. “It wasn’t much, but it was ours. Even if we had to sleep on a mattress on the floor for six months. We didn’t have a lot, but we were happy there. YOU were happy. Even when you were in all that pain and you were exhausted and frustrated with all the therapies and the progress you didn’t think you were making. You never once bitched or moaned or felt sorry for yourself. You were never miserable. You were just happy.”

“You’re saying I’m not happy now?”

“No. I know you are. I see it every time you’re with your kids. It’s just that you were going through so much...you’d just BEEN through so much...and you never let it break you.”

“I couldn’t let it break me. I had you. We had a baby on the way. You both needed me. I HAD to keep going. For the two of you.”

“Remember the first night we brought Millie home? And she cried. A lot.”

“She cried all night,” Tyler recalls. “So did you. I think you cried more than she did. I had two crying women to deal with.”

“I was so frustrated and exhausted and depressed and scared. I was terrified of being a shitty mom. And you were so good with her. With both of us. I remember how you walked the apartment with her for hours. Just holding er and rubbing her back and talking to her; your voice was so soft and so calm and you were so patient. I watched you with her and I swear I’d never seen anything more beautiful. You with a baby. OUR baby. I didn’t think I could love any more than I already did, and then I watched you being a dad.”

He brushes the tip of his nose against her ear, then kisses it. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk. I’m sentimental. I can’t help it. Being here with you...ALONE with you...it has me all up in my feels. We’ve never gotten this; this time together. Even when we were in Ireland, it was never about us. It was about the job. This is the first time in nearly seven years where it’s just me and you. And I like it. Being this way with you.”

“So do I. We needed this.”

“We did,” she agrees. “Sometimes it feels as if we don’t exist outside of being parents and raising kids together. Like we’ve completely forgotten about each other and what’s like to be an actual couple. Not just a mom and dad. And I’ve missed seeing you like that. As more than that.”

“I missed that too. I’ve missed you.” He presses a kiss to her temple and tightens his hold on her, forearm sliding further up onto her neck. “I’ve missed US.”

“Things are so much better now. Since we moved here. Being in Colorado was nice, but being here is better. You’re different when you’re here. You’re not as stressed; not on edge so much. You’re more relaxed. Grounded, I guess. You’re in your happy place.”

“Well it’s home,” Tyler reasons. “I just needed someone to MAKE it a home with.”

She smiles and turns her face into his, placing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “You can be really sweet and cute, you know that?”

“Don’t you start.”

“It’s true,” she laughs, and then pecks his cheek before turning to face the fire once more. “I don’t care how much you hate hearing it. It doesn’t make you soft or weak or less of a man for being like that. Far from it. It actually makes you even more attractive.  And sexy. That you can be like this with me. That you’re not afraid to be emotional or sentimental. Or vulnerable.”

“You’re the only person I CAN be that way with.”

“I’m lucky. I get all these different sides of you that no one else gets to see. It’s like hiding this huge secret from the rest of the world. One that they’ll never, ever, figure out. You’re a mystery to everyone else. I’m the only one who really knows you.”

“Yeah,” Tyler agrees. “You are.”

“Your secret is safe with me. I promise I won’t tell anyone that you cry during Fox and the Hound and Inside Out. I know you have a reputation to uphold.”

He grins. “What reputation is that?”

“The guy that took out a whole apartment of hostiles in Dhaka. Who humiliated Amir Asif. Who took a bullet to the neck AND lived. You really ARE too stubborn to die.”

“Or I’m just lucky.”

“Maybe some of both?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it has something to do with someone putting their fingers in my neck to keep me alive AFTER I got shot.”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Esme says. “I did what I had to do. You would have done the same thing. You wouldn't have left me on that bridge.”

“Not in a million years.”

“I almost thought you were going to leave me the first day, though. When I pissed you off in the market. You were so mad. I thought for sure you were going to dump my ass in the street somewhere. I don’t think I’ve seen you that angry since. Except for that time that weird guy followed me home from the post office because he wanted to ask me out and didn’t believe me when I told him I was married.”

“I could have killed that fucking guy.”

“You were so pissed! ” she recalls. “I thought he was going to shit his pants when you walked out of the house. He wasn’t expecting there to even be a husband, never mind one that looks like you. And then he tried to get all macho and mouthy and actually thought he could take you. You only had like six inches and fifty pounds on him.”

Tyler smirks. “Wasn’t much of a fight.”

“It was two hits. You hitting him, and him hitting the ground. My hero,” she presses a kiss to his forearm. “My knight in slightly tarnished armour.”

“Nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do,” she smiles. “And just so you know, I’d fight a bear for you.”

“You would, would you?”

“Maybe not a black bear or a polar bear or a grizzly. And maybe not a koala because they’re sketchy as fuck. But a Care Bear. I’d fight a Care Bear for you.”

He laughs at that, and she’s giggling when she turns her face into his and kisses him. Nails digging into his forearm through the fabric of his hoodie, her tongue gentle yet insistent as it pushes its way past his lips and teeth; his hand moving up to cup her cheek. “I’ve got something for you.” he says.

“My other surprise?”

He nods.

“And this one is definitely from you? Not the kids?”

“Just from me.”

“It’s not even my birthday. Or our anniversary. And Christmas was only two months ago and we’re past Valentine’s Day. So what’s it for?”

“It’s not for anything. It's a ‘just because’ kind of surprise.”

“Just because what?”

“Just because I felt like it. And because I love you.”

She grins. “And you say you’re not sappy.”

“Here,” he digs into one of the pockets on his hoodie and pulls out a small black velvet box, offering it to her.

Her eyes narrow. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean what did I do? I didn’t do anything. I wanted to buy you something so I bought you something.”

“Just because?”

“Yep. Just because.”

“Tyler…”

“Esme…”

“What is this?”

“Just take it. It’s yours. Just open it.”

“I’m kind of scared to.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve done something you didn’t have to do and I’m going to get all emotional and up in my feels and you hate when I get all up in my feels and ugly cry.”

He smirks. “If it happens, I’ll deal with it. Just open it.”

“Okay…” she  takes the box from him, turning her body sideways and draping both legs over his thigh. “AM I going to cry?”

“Knowing you? Probably.”

“You’re trouble. Making me cry.”

“It’ll be a good cry. I promise.”

“Alright…” she says, and then pops open the lid of the box, tears immediately glistening in her eyes; lower lip trembling as she looks from the ring nestled inside, to him, then back down again.

It isn’t over the top of outlandish; something simple and classic for a woman that’s never cared about the materialistic things in life. Who was happy in that small apartment outside of Sydney and who would have been just as happy in a shack in the outback. But the solitaire diamond sparkles brilliantly in the glow cast by the fire, as does the rose gold band it’s set in.

“You like it?” he asks.

She nods, and he presses a kiss to her forehead and uses a thumb to clear the tears off her cheeks. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes. “YOU’RE beautiful. Why…?”

“Millie asked why you didn’t have one. She said you guys watched some wedding show on tv and that all the ladies have engagement rings and why didn’t you have one?”

“She’s pretty observant that daughter of yours. Did you tell her that I never expected one or asked for one or really wanted one?”

“I told her that when we got married, we didn’t have a lot of money and you said you didn’t care about things like diamonds and fancy shit. That you were happy with just a wedding band.”

“Which is true. I’ve always been happy with just that.”

“I know. But she asked why we’d been married forever and you still didn’t have one. So I figured I better get my shit together and show my daughter that I’m not some douche that doesn’t love her mother.”

“I don’t need a ring to know you love me. You find ways to let me know you do. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to. It shouldn’t have taken me six and a half years.”

“I wouldn’t have cared if it took you sixty,” Esme says. “And it’s beautiful and it’s perfect and you’re beautiful and perfect and I don’t deserve it. Or you.”

“Now you’re just talking shit. You deserve more than that. More than me.”

“Now YOU’RE talking shit,” she counters.

“How about we don’t talk shit about ourselves,” Tyler suggests. “Here..”  he takes the box from her, setting it on his thigh and then plucking the ring from its confines. “...hand.”

She grins. “You’re so romantic. There’s the Tyler I know and love. Did you tell your daughter you asked me to marry you in the bathroom?”

“I did actually.”  He slips the ring onto her finger and then presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “I told her you were pregnant with her and that you were worried you were getting fat and ugly. That I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world and I said ‘marry me’ and that was it. There was never really a question.”

“It was a very Tyler like way of asking though. And I said ‘okay’, so technically, it WAS a proposal. In our own weird way.”

“Weird seems to be our thing.”

“I prefer unconventional,” she says, then kneels between his legs. “We’re unconventional. Not weird. We’ve never been normal, per say. We started out in a very unconventional way and we’ve kept it going ever since. Maybe that’s what makes us so good together.  We don’t expect normal from each other.”

His hands settle on her hips. “Maybe.”

“I mean, I married a mercenary. That’s about as far from normal as you can get.”

“You had your chance, you know. To get away. You could have said no.”

“Your eyes and your ass were way too nice to say no to.”

He grins.

“And I don’t care what you did...or do...for a living,” she declares, his face cradled in her hands as she kisses him softly. “I would have said yes a million times over.”

[mingi-darling]

Different Circumstances

Pairing: idol!jungkook x fem!reader

Warning: slight mention of rape, cussing, kissing scene.

Fluff, just fluff

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is on the run as he struggles to get away from fans who are trying to chase him down, an unexpected turn of events leads to Andrea being under the hands of her favourite idol... like literally.

“THERE HE IS!”

‘Shit’

Running as fast as he could, Jungkook bolted away from his hiding spot as a mob of fans chased him down. Well obviously hiding behind a pole is not the best place to hide in, it was all he could do at the moment.

Jungkook felt like he could out run the fastest guy on earth, even if his legs were starting to get sore, he can’t afford to take even at least one second to breathe or else the fans that were chasing him from behind could devour him whole.

“OPPA! OPPA!”

“OMG HE’S EVEN MORE HANDSOME IN PERSON!”

“I ALMOST GOT HIM!,”

The screaming fans only alerted more people that a ran away celebrity was on their street.

‘Can this day get even worse?!’

He took a sharp left as he kept running, he then suddenly caught sight of an idea, he prayed to god that this’ll hopefully work.

☁︎︎꧁𒊹︎꧂☁︎︎

“Have a great day sir!,” Andrea bowed politely to the old man behind the cashier register, the girl offered him a big smile as he returned the kind gesture.

Walking out of the convenient store each step she took had a small skip to it, she had bought herself some snacks to eat to prepare herself for a long day of binge watching her favourite show, “Fight For My Way,” starring Park Seo Joon! Just even thinking about his name made her drool.

Her train of though was cut off as she was suddenly pulled into an alleyway, making her drop the bag of goodies, her heart started to beat faster as she could feel her adrenaline rush through her body.

‘Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, I’m going to die!,’ Andrea mentally panicked as her breath hitches.

Pinned onto the hard bricked wall, Andrea could feel beads of sweat starting to form onto her forehead. If she was going to report this person for sexual harassment she’s going to have to be able to describe them. Her eyes that were shut tight hesitantly fluttered open. The man that held her captive between his arms wore a black oversized coat, a black hat, a grey turtle neck which was tucked into a pair of black pants, around his waist was a black leathered belt that hung over his thighs, and completed his outfit with a pair of high combat boots, which were, you guessed it, was black. She noticed his ears were decorated with silver hoop earrings, he may not have a lot of colour in his clothing, but he did have a sense of style. Thankfully, the guy was busy looking over at his shoulder to notice that the girl was checking him out.

“P-please let me go!,” Andrea pleaded, the man’s eye’s soften, guilt washed over him as he felt bad for bringing her into his problems, but there isn’t any time to turn back now. He pulled his mask down and Andrea couldn’t help but sense a pang of familiarity, it’s like she’d seen him before, had they already met or something? But before she could even question him further, Andrea could smell his strong manly scent as he leaned closer, his lips hovering over her ear as heat crept up onto her face as she could feel herself turning red, His hot breath hitting her delicate skin as he whispered.

“I’m sorry.”

And with no further warnings he pushed his rough lips over her soft and plump ones, her eyes widen as she could hear yelling from outside the alley. If it could, her heart could jump out of her chest right at this very moment as it beat faster and faster with every gentle kiss this man placed onto her lips, she then slowly gave in and decided to let him lead her through.

A group of girls then stop right outside of the alleyway as they started going off at each other,

“Where’d he go?!”

“He was just here!”

“Idiots! You could’ve ran faster!”

“Even at running Jungkook could win a marathon! He’s so hot! What a shame, we were so close.”

“Ew, people really have the audacity to kiss in public.”

And with that they left, their loud bickering of how they could’ve met their favourite idol faded off, but the two didn’t notice as they were lost in the moment as they kept sucking their faces off.

They pulled away only to catch their breath, with heavy breathing, Jungkook rested his forehead against hers. Realization hit her as she finally let the words sink into her mind.

She had just kissed THE Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of the most famous and well known group.... BTS

What’s worst is that, aside from Park Seo joon, Andrea had the biggest and the most fattest crush on him.

“How the hell did you not even recognize him from the start?!”

As hard as Andrea tried to convince herself that it wasn’t him, she couldn’t help but look at him a little closer and now can see the similarities, his beautiful doe eyes stared her down and she could feel her legs going weak, Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk at the girl’s stunned expression.

“This isn’t real.”

Andrea didn’t mean it to slip, fear and embarrassment replaced the shy and flustered feeling she once had.

She had offended him and all she wantede to do now was dig up her own grave and curl up into a ball and cry.

She closed her eyes not wanting to see his pained expression.

But then a melodic chuckle filled her ears, she felt a hand on her head and realized that he was gently ruffling her hair.

“Aren’t you a cute little thing~,” Jungkook cooed as he grinned at how red her face had turned. Although, for the past 10 minutes of knowing her, Jungkook felt a different aura around her, it was more innocent and pure, he didn’t understand what he was feeling as all of this was foreign to him, but yet, he couldn’t help but crave for more of it. The way he get’s so giddy as he looked at her face with eyes filled with genuine happiness. Although he wished that he’d meet her under better circumstances than this, he was thankful that he had bumped into her either way.

My first time posting here 🥺, I really hope it isn’t as cringey as it is...

#Jungkookff #BTSfanfics #BTSff #bts #idol!auxreader #xreader #kpopfanfics #kpop #kpopfanfics2020 #idol!jungkookxreader #au

[grimmarray]

Soulmate Sanctuary!

I’ve decided to take my favourite trope and my favourite fandom and do a thing!

Basically I’m gonna choose a Soulmate AU of some kind and a pairing and write something. Dunno how this will pan out in the end, but for now, enjoy!

Soulmate AU: Dreams Pairing: KiriBaku Words:1867

“Mom?”

“Yes Eijiro,”

“You have dreams right?”

“Of course I do,” she nodded bending down to address her young son.

“Do yours have the same person over and over?” he asked hesitantly.

Her face lit up and she took his little hand, “Oh honey, your having soulmate dreams,”

“What’s that?” he asked, his tone taking a more interested note to it.

“Well, they say if you dream about a certain person, then they are your soulmate, someone who will be a very important part of your life,” she explained.

“Like Mama is?” Eijiro asked.

“Actually, exactly like your Mama,” She smiled, “I dreamed about her for years before I eventually met her,”

“But my person looks like a boy,” His face betrayed a bit of confusion.

She laughed lightly, “It can be any kind of person, doesn’t matter boy or girl. It doesn’t even have to be like your Mama and I, it can be like Yu-kun and I, best friends for life,”

“Yu-san is your soulmate too?”

“No, not in this case, but what I’m trying to say is that a soulmate is about a mutual love, but that love can take any kind of shape,” she elaborated.

“Okay,” Eijiro seemed to consider that, “I hope my soulmate comes soon,”

“I hope so too sweetie,”

 “You actually know your soulmate?” a girl gasped aloud, “I always thought it was like super unlikely,”

“I met them on the train yesterday, but only because I was late!” another squealed.

“I’ve heard people can actually have more than one,” Ashido spoke up, looking thoughtful. Kirishima perked up at her mention of it, she seemed really invested in soulmate stuff, and while he’d resigned himself to waiting for his, he’d always wondered about hers.

“Yeah, and a lot of people have none,” the first rolled her eyes.

Ashido shrugged, “I’ve heard most of those people have really unclear dreams,” she twirled a lock of her hair around her finger thoughtfully, “Some people don’t even have their dreams until the day before they meet,”

“Girl, don’t tell me,” the second looked way sympathetic.

“I’m totally good, I have the dreams, just not often,” she admitted before she hurtled back to talking about the one girl’s soulmate.

 “I can’t believe we both got into UA!” Mina cheered, “I can’t wait to meet our classmates!”

“Yeah,” Kirishima affirmed quietly.

“Dude, I thought you were changing your image,” she poked his cheek until a he broke into a smile and batted her away.

“I am, just thinking,”

“About?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

Ashido crossed her chest, “cross my heart, now spill!”

Kirishima sighed, “I’m wondering if my soulmate is gonna be there,”

“Did you see them at the tests?” Ashido pressed excitedly.

“I didn’t but I get this feeling,” Kirishima shrugged.

“Oh my god! That is totally a good sign!” she squealed, “Of course your gonna meet them then!”

“You know I don’t think I’ve ever asked you about it?” Kirishima looked at her and suddenly she was the one quietly thinking.

“Yeah, cause you’re too nice,” she eventually said, “I get kinda embarrassed, but I guess since you told me…”

Kirishima waited for her to keep going, and they got about a block before she let out a big huff and slapped her cheeks a couple of times, “Get yourself together girl!” then she rounded on Kirishima, “I actually have several,”

“Actually?!” Kirishima gasped, “That’s awesome, I always knew you had a lot of love to go around,”

“Argh, that’s so not the reaction I’m used to, but hearing it from you is so cool!” she squealed and hopped up and down a couple times before settling down, “Two of them have always been crystal clear for me, but then there are a few who are blurry, like… uh, never mind, but anyway, I get these pretty odd dreams, like I’ve never heard of anything like this so I’m not even sure if it’s a legit thing or my own dreams projecting, but in them, all the people I dream of separately are together,”

“That has to mean something,” Kirishima pumped a fist in the air, “Who knows, maybe they’ll be your hero agency one day!” The both of them laughed out loud.

“Yeah I hope so,” Ashido smiled as they approached the gates of UA.

 “He didn’t even recognize me,” Eijiro said, his face down on the table, “I didn’t even have the guts to go say hi, so unmanly,”

“Ei, he probably was just as nervous as you were,” his Mom pointed out.

“No, far from it,” he grumbled, “That guy just oozes confidence,”

“You can’t get yourself down,” she stopped her work and sat down next to him, “For all you know he might not have the dreams as vividly as you do. You’ve always been so honest and strong-hearted, and you’ve been able to see him vividly since you could talk, probably even before then. This bond you’ll have is going to be so strong, but the catch is you have to help it along,”

“How do I do that?” Eijiro mumbled.

His mother took his face in her hands and made him look her in the eye, “You love him, that’s what you do. Find a way to put yourself beside him and don’t ever let him go. I’ve watched you grow into the strong young man I see right now, and while you changed the way you present yourself, your still you and I can’t think of anyone stronger,”

Kirishima blinked once before his expression softened into a smile, one of his hands coming up to hold his Mom’s, “Thanks, I think I needed that,”

“Yeah you did,” she smiled back before ruffling his hair, “Now go wash up and get your Mama, dinner will be ready in 10,”

 There was a sharp blast in the middle of the night, waking half the dorms in a start before they all realized what it was. While most went back to sleep without a second thought, they all knew what the nightmares were like, Kirishima pressed an ear to the wall and knew something was different.

“Hey Bakugou?” he knocked lightly on the door, “You good?” He heard a yelp and some rustling, followed by a thump. He shook his head fondly, used to the embarrassed shuffle from behind the door when things got bad, but again, something about it was different.

He waited, seeing if Bakugou would open up himself, though he almost never did, but he didn’t exactly want to barge in and scare the guy. The last time he barged in he got an explosion to the face, which wasn’t actually that bad, but he’d rather not have to even out his horns again. He ended up sitting beside the door before it finally cracked.

“What the fuck!?” Bakugou snapped as he discovered Kirishima lounging beside the door, “I was fucking waiting for you, dumbass,” the last word trailed off though Kirishima supposed it was because Bakugou had backed away from the door so he could come in.

“You want to tal-mmph” Kirishima said as he came in the door before Bakugou basically attacked him with a kiss. It was sloppy and rough, and before he knew it, it was over, but Kirishima suddenly understood.

“You had a dream,” he said softly, a smile lighting his face.

Bakugou’s eyebrows seemed to drill themselves further into the near permanent crease in his forehead, “How…!?” he spat out before his brain seemed to catch up, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” the words sounded like he was verging on a yell, but was purposefully keeping it down.

Kirishima thought about it but when Bakugou seemed to get impatient, he shrugged, “It never really occurred to me to,” it was the honest truth, “Though I’ll admit at first I was pretty intimidated,”

Bakugou seemed to bite back the probably scathing remark he would impulsively spit, and swallowed it down before letting out something better thought out, “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you known, idiot?”

“I always have,”

This seemed to shock Bakugou, completely smoothing the crease of his brow as they flew up past his bangs, “You’re kidding,”

Kirishima shook his head, “Ever since I can remember, you’ve been as clear to me as things I’d see in reality. You never blurred, I bet if I saw old class photos, I’d be able to pick you out instantly,”

This really seemed to stump Bakugou, as he went and flopped himself back on his bed. Kirishima followed and watched as the shock gradually shifted into annoyance before settling into disbelief.

“I’ve never had a clear dream in my life,” Bakugou spoke, barely loud enough for Kirishima to hear, “It made it so much easier to push people away, to rationalize that I could best everyone, that I didn’t need some stupid soulmate to be the best. I almost fell for it,” he paused briefly before he met Kirishima’s gaze again with determination, “Then you fucking smashed your way in and made yourself at home, I didn’t even clue in because I was too fucking focused on myself. That’s not even the worst of it, my selfish ass got kidnapped and caused All Might’s end, and not once did I look at your stupid red-head and clue in. Not even as you dragged me out of that hell-hole,”

“What have you been thinking this whole fucking time?” Bakugou asked him straight.

“I didn’t want to push things, cause I know soulmates can just be, you know, mates?” Kirishima shrugged, “I know you got ambitions, so I just figured I’d be by your side to support you along the way,” he looked at his feet, “When you got taken it felt like a hole got punched through me, it hurt a lot and I nearly got expelled trying to save you, but it didn’t matter to me. I needed you to be safe, and when you were I couldn’t even begin to explain how much it took for me to let go of your hand and not grab you in my arms and not let you go,”

“You never once thought to fucking tell me this shit?” Bakugou grabbed his shoulder, “I thought being honest was manly or some shit?”

“You never asked,” Kirishima turned back, leaning slightly into the hand.

“Dumbass,” Bakugou hissed, “Fucking idiot bleeding heart,”

“Wow thanks,” Kirishima snickered softly at the string of insults.

“Geez, only you would laugh at that,” Bakugou growled, “The dream was so vivid,” he didn’t hesitate as he pulled Kirishima into him and wrapped his arms around him, “It was like I got punched in the chest by All Might again, but it didn’t hurt, literally the opposite.”

Kirishima returned the embrace, finding nothing but warmth within it, “As vivid as this right now?”

“Fucking sappy hallmark bullshit, yes!” Bakugou muttered, “I like this better,” with that he buried his face into Kirishima’s shoulder.

“Good to know the real thing is preferred,” Kirishima hummed letting his cheek fall against his head, “Can I stay?”

“Do what you want,” came the muffled reply.

“Okay, stay it is,” Kirishima smiled.

‘Exactly like Mama,’

1/?

First | Next->

[bakugou-jpg]

‘Promise’ Kirishima x reader x Dead!Bakugou

The news had hit everyone like a truck.

The number 2 hero Ground Zero ,also known as Katsuki Bakugou;; Husband of his loving wife (Y/n) Bakugou and father of their 3 year old son Tatsuki Bakugou, died during a fight against a few villains while protecting a hand full of school children.

It was a fight where his fatherly instincts had taken control of him  where he wanted nothing more than to protect those young souls and later return home to be engulfed into the arms of his wife and kiss her lips passionately only to be interrupted like usual with his bundle of joy running into the kitchen and jumping into his arms, smothering his pride and joy with kisses and play hero and villain with him later that night.

He had managed to save those young souls, but the one thing he looked out to the most, The one thing he loved the most in the whole entire world;; His family, was something he was never able to do because before he had the chance he was knocked against a building by a powerful blast that was followed by another one against his skull that was fatal to him.

Bakugou never had the chance to say goodbye, to tell them how much he loved them and how much he cared for them and never had realized the kiss he gave his wife before leaving would and the ruffle on his son hair would be the last.

Because if he did he would've hugged and kissed his son like there was no tomorrow, telling him how much he loved him and how badass and proud he was of that little brat. How he would stand by what ever decision he would make, even though he probably wouldn't understand at such a young age and especially that he would always be watching his son and that he would have to look after his mother when he was gone.

And to his wife..To his wife he would kiss her, so damn passionately and lovingly like he did when he did when she announced she was pregnant and when he married her. Bakugou would thank her and hold her close, comfort her since she would obviously be crying, thank her for showing him love. Thank her for showing what it means to look forward coming home and not want to leave someone's side for the rest of his life and grow old with them. He would tell her how much he loved her, because oh did Bakugou love his  beautiful and kind souled wife. One who had more kindness in her pinky than people did in their whole entire body.

Bakugou would've made love to her the night before, Nothing rough and nothing quick, no;; Bakugou would make it last long and Passionate. He really only wanted to make love to her and just show her how damn much he loved this woman.

But he didn't know, so he never was able to those things and he never regretted something more when he was sent flying off into the building right before he got killed and left behind a hysterically crying wife on the floor of their home who watched it happen on live television.

Bakugou also would've taken the time to sit down with Kirishima and thank him. Even though bakugou hated him for it in high school, Kirishima was the one who teased him on (Y/n) and did anything to set his two best friends up together. Even though he was never truly kind to Kirishima, he would set aside his usual angry self and thank him for being by his side.

But Kirishima made Bakugou a promise, one Bakugou asked him himself.

So when Kirishima had broke down crying in his small apartment upon seeing his best friend die on live television, he didn't hesitate to immediately run out of his house and rush to the house Bakugou and (Y/n) lived and enter it without knocking.

He didn't hesitate to quickly make his way to the living room, tears still staining his face, and fall down next to the broken woman, engulfing her into the biggest hug ever while staying strong as she screamed out of agony.

Words couldn't even describe how much it hurt Kirishima to see her cry like that, to see her so broken and the fact that he realized Tatsuki didn't know his father was gone and didn't understand he wouldn't be coming back for dinner or to play Hero and Villain with him made him tear up more and break down.

Kirishima watched the newlyweds talk to each other, Bakugou having his usual shit eating grin on his face and (Y/n) smiling gracefully like always.

It made the man smile a bit himself, because HE was the reason they 'got it on' and to see his best friends so happy made himself feel very happy.

Apparently Kirishima had dreamed off a little too long, because Bakugou had made his way to him without the red haired boy noticing with his hands dug into his pockets.

"Shitty hair" Bakugou said, snapping Kirishima out of his daze with a confused look.

Before the red head could even ask something, Bakugou grabbed his tie and dragged him out of the room to the empty balcony that wasn't too far away from the reception.

"W-wha did i do?! Did i stare too much?? Sorry for that i was just dozing o-"

"Eijirou i need you to make a promise to me, a promise that is very important to me" Bakugou said while leaning on the balcony and looking over the forest that was next to the mansion.

Kirishima's eyes had widened when he heard his name being called out by BAKUGOU. The one that always referred to him by shitty hair and on VERY rare occasions by Kirishima..But he had never heard his first name being called out by Bakugou of all people.

"Y-yes, of course. Are you o-okay??" He asked nervously, making Bakugou scoff.

"Of course i am you dumb fuck!" The ash blonde hissed, sighing afterwards and looking down at the forest again.

He tugged at the sleeve of his suit and fiddled around with the buttons. "Look, so like I'm now all married and shit and of course I'll always stay by her side and be there for her protect her with my life..But, i wanna be real here"

Kirishima listened, completely interested in his story since serious Bakugou wasn't a Bakugou he saw a lot. He stood next to his friend and also leaned on the railing but only with one arm, his eyes still on the pro hero.

"I'm a pro hero, a famous one. I've been through some pretty rough stuff, stuff that's kinda dangerous you know..We both know there might be a chance I'm not gonna be around anymore at some point." Bakugou said with a small grin, even though his eyes hinted to the fact he was hurt by the thought of it.

Kirishima's eyes widened and he jumped up. "Don't say that bro! You shouldn't think so negatively, I'm sure that'll never hap-"

"I'm not saying it will happen, but there's a chance it might and if it will happen i wanna make sure that i can go while being sure you're there for (Y/n) and take over my bloody damn fucking job as her partner!" Bakugou hissed while clenching his fist and pushing himself off of the railing, starring daggers into Kirishima's eyes.

"W-what..?" Kirishima muttered as his eyes widened in shock.

Bakugou groaned and unclenched his fists, rubbing his neck while starring off at the forest. "She's gonna be all by herself then..No one to be by her side, No one to comfort her, No one to protect her and make her happy!" He said, surprisingly calm. A small grin made it's way onto his face as he sighed.

"And i know my damn wife, my damn soft, kind but stubborn wife..She'd say she's gonna be all fine and all, keep on living her life while in reality she'd be breaking on the inside and crying every time she'd come home to an empty house knowing it's gonna stay empty for the rest of the day..It would eat (Y/n) from the inside and she wouldn't share it with anyone" He said, finishing it off with a scoff and a small snicker.

Kirishima grew extremely quiet as he felt the cold night breeze blew through his hair, even though it didn't move due to all the gel that had been put in there.

Bakugou looked up at Kirishima and dug his hands into his pockets. "I want you to take care of her for me, Eijirou Kirishima" He said, his face calm as the wind blew through his hair.

Kirishima blinked his eyes a few times before quickly shaking his head, his eyes tearing up at the thought of Bakugou dying. "N-no, Katsuki come on you can't say such thing-"

"The moment you hear I'm dead i want you to immediately be there for her, heck fucking run to our house or some shit. Comfort her and don't you fucking dare leave her side for those couple of weeks, even months. Of course it'll take time for the wound to heal and turn into a scar, but please, take care of her, be there for her, protect her, make her happy.." Bakugou said while gritting his teeth.

"..Greet her every time you get back home, If she's sick take care of her, If she's sad be there for her and hold her in your fucking hard ass arms. If i have kids, Take care of them too and hang every damn drawing they draw up on the fridge. Tell them how much of a badass their father was and tell them all the cool stories I couldn't tell."

Kirishima put up his hands as tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. "K-katsuki stop it, god you're almost gonna make me lose my shit"

"Play with them, go to their plays games whatever their hobby's are, go to their graduation and be their fucking #1 fan with whatever they do..If i have a daughter, walk her down the fucking aisle when She get's married and make sure She get's a good guy and to make the boys fear you when they first meet you" Bakugou said, his hands starting to tremble from all the emotions that were currently rushing through his veins.

"..Don't forget to make my kids feel accepted no matter what, because any kid of mine no matter what is gonna be the fucking best" He said with a big smirk plastered in his face.

Kirishima's bottom lip started trembling as 'manly' tears started to spill out of his eyes.

"And most of all, you better fucking love her like there's no tomorrow. Because you're lying if you say you don't love her, i see the way your eyes soften every time you look at her and how your cheeks turn a soft pink color every time she laughs at your jokes and touches you" Bakugou said with a deep sigh, surprisingly not seeing furious about it what Kirishima had expected.

Kirishima blushed and scratched the back of his neck, not denying any of it whatsoever. He focused his attention back to Bakugou, again with holding in his loud sobs.

Bakugou held out his hand. "So if you can promise me to do that for me-"

"I promise, Katsuki!" Kirishima shouted while launching himself forward and wrapping his arms around Bakugou's neck, staining his suit with tears.

Bakugou sighed and smirked, patting Kirishima's back. "Good"

Tears streamed down Kirishima's face as he broke down and hugged (Y/n) closer to him, rubbing his hand up and down her back soothingly.

Words didn't get spoken, after all what was there to say?

'It's okay?' No, because it wasn't okay. Bakugou got killed, their best friend and they both saw it happen.

'Don't worry, I'm here?' That was just something cheesy to say which didn't fit the situation and Kirishima knew much better than that.

'You're gonna be okay' She was gonna be broken for a long amount of time, her heart having to heal for atleast two years.

'No need to cry' was already obvious why that shouldn't be said.

Kirishima sniffled and inhaled, looking down at her. "I'm here, and i promise you that I'll never leave your side..I can't replace Katsuki and that's definitely not what i want to do, but I'll help you get through this and i want you to know that you're not alone, (Y/n)" He whispered as his tears fell on top of (Y/n)'s hair.

The woman didn't respond with words but she gripped Kirishima's shirt and buried her face into his chest, continuing to cry and sob her eyes out.

Kirishima pulled her closer and buried his nose on top of her head.

He wasn't sure what was going to come, what things would happen after this and how this would affect everything..But he was sure of one thing,

And that was that he was going to held onto that promise he made 6 years ago.

[twdxjess]

Knight in a Leather Jacket: A Negan Story ( Chapter 7)

Summary: You start your life with Negan and The Saviors, but what will happen when you find out what Negan’s true role is within the community. (fluff and angst)

Pairing: NeganXReader

Word count: 1,886

Need to catchup? Master list

Safe. That’s how you felt when you woke up in Negan’s arms the next morning. You turned around your body in order to face the sleeping man beside you. With his arms re-adjusting to your movement, he pulls you closer to his chest, and  tenderly kisses you on the forehead. As you lay their staring at the man you thought to yourself, "Wow, he is truly amazing." You wished the morning hadn't come so soon because you would rather be in this exact moment...forever.

Minutes go by without you taking your eyes off Negan, when suddenly Negan pinches your arm. "What the hell?" you shouted while pushing Negan playfully.

"Just reassuring you this isn't a fuckin' dream doll... I am really in bed with you..naked."He responds to you while smirking. You rolled your eyes at the cocky man’s comment.

“You know I should be pinching you because it wasn’t too long ago that you were the one who had a sex dream about me.” You boasted while getting closer to Negan.

Negan stared at you with lust and started to say, “and darlin’ last night was 10 times better than my sex filled dream.” He then kissed your lips as if begging for more. Finally,as he pulled away he said,” Well as much as I would love to stay here with you all day, we should start moving for Simon will wonder where the hell we are.” While you got up you can tell Negan was admiring your unclothed figure. As you grabbed your clothes you looked at Negan and said, "Didn't you just say we had to start moving or else?"

Negan's rough voice responded, " I know but I wanted to admire you a little bit longer... just in case you decide you fuckin' don't want me anymore." It was sweet seeing him in this vulnerable state so to re-assure your feelings for Negan you went over to him and whispered to him, "don't worry dollface...I have many more things to show you later tonight."

"God... where have you been all my life?" He responded to your answer,  then Negan grabbed you tossing you on your back as his lips once again crashed into yours. A few minutes later, both you and Negan started to get moving. As you were packing your things, your mind started to worry about all the things that could eventually happen to your new community, as it did to your old community. You were so anxious that you had to sit down to try and calm your troubled mind. "You okay (y/n)?" Negan asked while sitting next you. Once you open your eyes, tears started to fall down your face. "Hey its okay, princess, if you're worried about leaving we don't have to." Negan stated. You just smiled at the man, it was as if he knew you your whole life. But you shook your head and said, "I'm fine... I'm...just scared. Its been so long since I've been apart of a group...and I just don't want the same things to happen as it did before...everything I loved was taken away from me."

Negan embrace you into his manly arms, you loved the way he smelled. Negan then stated to you, "You know nothing will ever happen to us, and if something comes are way we will fuckin' deal with it.. together." Negan then continued to say, " You know what let's make a pact... if it's okay with you let's leave this nice ass RV here... and if something ever happens and we get separated..we can meet back here... this could be like our safe house." You liked his idea of having your own space where the two of you can meet if things go bad. So to show him you agree you kissed his savory lips once again. After you finished packing your things, Negan helped you load them into his truck. "You ready sweetheart?" Negan asked while grabbing your hand.

"Yes, let's go! I'm ready to start my new life with you." Then as Negan pulled away you looked in the rear view mirror watching your past slowly fade away.

"Finally you're here!" Simon rejoiced as you and Negan got out of the truck.

 "Hey no need for the sass drama queen... I'm only a few minutes late..dipshit." Negan responded to Simon.

 "And who is this beautiful young lady?" Simon asked as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. You were a bit creeped out and Negan could tell, so he stepped in and shouted, "Hey hands off, Si... you are creepin' her the fuck out.." You looked at Negan thanking him but also a bit peeved for you can handle your own problems. Negan than stated to Simon and the three other men, "If you must know,this is (y/n) one badass independent lady... and she is fuckin' off limits."

 Simon backed away and said, "geez calm down...I was just being friendly... it isn't everyday you run into a beautiful women like (y/n) here." You blushed at Simon's compliment and Negan stood a little closer to you as if he was marking his territory. "Okay enough chit-chat... let's start moving our asses before sundown...when the real creeps come out." Negan declared and then everyone ,including you, went back to your vehicles.

As you and Negan start to follow the other truck down the road, you turned to Negan and said, "Thanks for stepping in... but you do need to realize I took those stranger danger classes back in college..so if anything ever does happen just know I can hold my own ground with creeps like Simon." Negan's hand rested on your thigh as he said, " I'm sorry... it's just nowadays most men would do anything to get into a woman's pants... and just the way Simon and the others were practically drooling over you I wanted to make sure you feel safe with me..." Your heart exploded with feelings at Negan's comment, even though you could take care of yourself you liked having a big strong man look out for you. So, you scooted a little closer and gave Negan a kiss on the cheek.

Finally, the truck pulled up to what looked like an old hotel, with a total of three floors. "We're here sweetheart." Negan said with excitement. As you look at the hotel you see many people outside, from adults to children you couldn't believe how big this community was. You guessed that there had to be about 30 people, which was a lot for a community nowadays. You smiled with glee as you got a feeling of what your new life would be like. After you both got out of the car, you followed Simon to the front desk.

"Would you like your own rooms?" Simon asked. You looked at Negan waiting for him to answer when he motioned to you to decide. You finally said, "No, because sharing is caring." Negan laughed showing off his dimple filled smile. "That's my girl." Negan said while Simon handed him the keys to your shared room. 

Once you both were outside, you both decided you wanted to check out the room before unpacking. Your room was on the third floor near a stairwell facing the woods. Negan opens the door, and the both of you step into an enormous penthouse like suite. But the first thing you both noticed wasn't the kitchen but the giant king size bed with a bronze pole on the right side. "Now we're talkin'!" Negan plopped his masculine body onto the bed as if waiting for a show.

You bit your lip and shook your head at the man walking toward him before saying, "I know I can't for you to dance for me." Negan leaned over and pulled you down onto the bed and kissed you. You finally broke the kiss and said, "We should really go unpack the truck now... so we can start our "show" early tonight." Negan grinned at you ready to rush out the door, when someone knocked at the door. Negan opened the door and there was a dark haired man, who told Negan he was needed at the main office to take care of some "business". Negan shook his head and closed the door. You looked at him questioning what was going on. Negan told you, "I need to go downstairs real quick and deal with something but I'll be back...I told Fat Joey to grab some men and bring our things up..." Negan kissed your lips and was out the door.

After Fat Joey and another person brought your things up you thanked them as if they were a concierge at a regular hotel. You rummage through your things for something to eat and you decided on the bag of stale pretzels and a half-drunken gatorade.  You sat on the porch admiring the view and how peaceful it was here. Once you were done eating, you decided to shower and change into something more revealing for Negan. It seemed like Negan was taking longer than he thought, so you decided to put on some sweats and a t-shirt and go see what Negan was up to. As you were heading downstairs, you saw a little girl playing with her sister outside. You smiled at them and the little girl tugged at your pants and said, "You're..very... pretty... are you a princess?." You smiled at the little girl and decided to play along and said, "shhhh...I'm undercover don't tell anyone, promise?" The little girl giggled and said, "promise." She ran back to her sister and told her your secret. "Oh to be young again." You thought to yourself.

While you were approaching the front desk you heard screaming coming from what seemed like a basement, where in the old world maids would do laundry. You were a bit nervous but your curiosity got the best of you and you decided to go toward the sound. You approached the room, luckily the doors had a small window attached. You peeked in and you couldn't believe what you were seeing it was as if your worst nightmares became a reality. You saw the man you thought you loved covered in blood, not his blood or a walker's blood but human blood. You wanted to look away but you couldn't you had to understand what the hell was going on. As you looked closer you also saw Simon and one other guy in the room. You then noticed Negan holding onto the blood stained baseball bat and finally you saw Negan standing over a beaten man, who looked practically dead. 

At this point you couldn't move... fear was finally taking control over your body. You thought, "this can't be happening, why would he beat the living' shit out of that poor man..." you stepped away from the door trying to regain control of your thoughts when you accidentally tripped over empty paint cans. "Shit"  you thought. You started to run as fast as you could away from the horrific nightmare when you heard Negan in the distance shout, "(y/n) come back...I can...explain." But it was too late, you got into Negan's truck wiping your tear filled eyes. As you drove off, you were cursing at yourself for letting someone in once again.

Tags: @babygirlmeepi @pseudonymfox @curlyhairedblueeyedangel

[just-one-string-in-a-silent-sea]

Pete Dunne x Reader (Perfect)

Pairing: Pete Dunne x Reader

A/N: This wasn’t requested or anything but I think Pete is a real hottie and I thought of this so here it is. Not gonna write the accent, you guys can imagine it. Hope you like it!

Word Count: 2,210 (I’m sorry, I just loved writing this)

Pete Dunne was an asshole. A temperamental, angry, downright unstoppable bruiserweight asshole with a motivation that was sometimes terrifying. He was rough around the edges, strong, tough, manly. An intimidating figure to say the least. Maybe that’s why no one but Trent and Tyler ever really talked to him. Maybe it was why he didn’t talk to anyone either.

And then there was you.

And before you, Pete had never known anyone like you.

You were small, happy, kind, sweet. Always smiling, always willing to lend an ear when anyone needed to talk. He hadn’t met you before that night when they’d had a match in London, and since he hadn’t slept at all the night before, Tyler had told Pete that he desperately needed to put on some makeup, and Pete would be damned before he put the shit on himself.

So, when he was sure everyone else had already been done, and then another 20 minutes for good measure, Pete trudged towards the makeup rooms, praying to whoever the fuck was listening that no one would see the big bad bruiser getting his manly makeup done.

But, luckily for him, like always, the makeup artists had high tailed themselves out, something that made him sneer. Each night as soon as the roster was done, the hair and makeup squadron literally disappeared, heading to their homes or the bars, out to have their own lives.

But, when he stepped across the threshold of the empty makeup room, he found that it wasn’t so empty.

A girl sat on the stool next to a vanity, holding what looked to be a stage jacket, and sewing it. She was singing to herself, something about good guys hiding away, and he examined her, not saying anything.

She was short. Much shorter than him, definitely not over 5’3”. She looked to be of average weight, and her (h/l) (h/c) hair was hanging over her face, not letting him see much of her face.

She had one leg crossed over the other, the jacket resting on top, and he noticed the long-sleeved T-shirt with a bear on it, and he couldn’t help but smile at the fact she was wearing his merch.

She was still singing to herself, and when she picked up the jacket to apparently examine it, she nearly fell off the stool when she saw him.

“Jesus Christ!” She gasped, catching herself next to the stool and standing. He cocked his head, hearing her obvious American accent, and he pushed himself off the doorframe and into the room a few steps.

The girl was gathering her composure, her cheeks flaming red with embarrassment.

She set the jacket on the stool and brushed her yoga pants off, finally looking at him.

“Whatcha need? Don’t think I’ve ever seen the Pete Dunne in the makeup room.”

Anyone else, Pete would’ve broken their jaw, man or woman, but this girl, he smiled.

Her voice reminded him of a harp. The twang in her voice made him want to hear more. She had (e/c) eyes. He liked them.

“Yeah, yeah,” He said, allowing himself to smirk at her, and the smile she gave him back made his chest feel warm.

What the hell? Why wasn’t he being an asshole? What was wrong with him?

“I’m guessing you want me to cover up the bags under your eyes?”

He nodded, “Tyler said it’s pretty bad.”

She nodded, “He didn’t lie. Come sit down over here, I’ll have you all fixed up in no time. You want your hair done too?”

Before Pete could sneer and make a nasty comment, he heard his own voice, “Do you think it needs done? I didn’t look at it before I left the hotel.”

She shook her head, “Personally I think your hair always looks great, so no, I don’t think so.”

He smiled, “Thanks.”

She clicked the lights of the vanity on, making Pete blink, but he quickly turned his head to focus on the girl again, “You new, love?”

Love? What the fuck was wrong with him?

She blushed, “Yeah, is it that easy to tell?”

He shrugged, “Most of them just leave once they’re done doing the makeup for everybody. Usually leave the rookies here in case anyone needs touchups.”

She smiled softly, “Well, I stay here because I choose to, honestly. I don’t know how they can all leave, I love to watch the matches. But, since I volunteer to stay here, I kinda get elected to do touchups as well.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her as she started to dig through her makeup case, “Isn’t that a lotta work to do by yourself?”

She nodded, “Yeah, but you know what they say. If you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life.”

“So you like it?”

“Oh yeah,” He could see her eyes light up as she started to apply makeup to his cheeks, “It’s wonderful to be here doing all these amazing people’s makeup for the whole world to see on TV, isn’t it amazing?” She gushed, and he almost smiled, almost.

He shrugged, “It’s a crazy ride.”

She nodded, “I’ll say.”

“What were you sewing?” He asked, looking over at the jacket.

“Oh, just one of my jackets, I-“ She stopped for a second, but before he could look at her, she caught herself, “Fell. Fell in the parking lot.”

He had a feeling she wasn’t telling the truth, but being as he’d only just met her, he understood why she wouldn’t be being totally honest with him. Especially since he was so intimidating.

“I’m a big fan,” she mumbled, breaking the silence, and he nodded, looking at her to smirk.

“Thank you love, glad you like me.”

He saw her blush, and allowed himself to smile toothlessly as she finished him.

“Well,” She said, putting the makeup down, “You’re all done, if you’d like to sneak out of the room again.”

He stood, brushing himself off and looking at himself in the mirror before looking back at her, “Thank you….I’m so sorry love I didn’t get your name,” he said, almost sheepishly.

Sheepish? Get yourself together Pete, Jesus Christ.

She beamed up at him, “(Y/N),”

He quirked his eyebrow, “(Y/N) from America, the makeup artist who Pete Dunne allowed to come near him.”

She giggled, “Yeah, I guess I am aren’t I.”

He nodded, “Hey, (Y/N), mind if I take your number?”

She beamed and blushed a little, “Of course, here ya go,”

And then, in all her American glory, she plucked a red lipstick from the box, wrote her number on his arm, and then plopped the makeup back in the box, and disappeared out of the makeup room, and Pete was left looking at his inner arm, wondering what it was about this girl who made him smile instead of wanting to kill her. 

The months went on, and Pete Dunne grew more and more close to the American baby doll he liked to think of as the Beauty to his beast. He learned more about her each night they were together. He came to see her after the makeup was done, and he went to see her after every match. He offered her rides back to her home most nights, but she always refused, taking cabs.

The months grew colder, but Pete’s heart was doing a complete 180 from what the temperature was doing outside.

He was falling for this sweet little American, and he knew it. He was sighing to himself one night, walking down the hallway towards her makeup room like always. He found himself smiling, looking forward to seeing her. She would most likely be sewing his jacket for him, singing some American rock song to herself and she would grin when she saw him, waving and her eyes would twinkle like they always did. And he would walk over to her makeup chair and sit down to talk to her about anything and everything.

He pushed the makeup room door open, but she wasn’t where he expected her to be. Not where she normally was. Instead, she was in her chair, the lights of her vanity turned on. She was facing the mirror, doing her makeup, and he knew something was wrong.

(Y/N) never wore makeup, despite the irony of it.

He didn’t move, not wanting to alert her of his presence, and he squinted, looking closer. It was nearly unnoticeable, but he could see it. He noticed everything about you, he prided himself on it.

She had a black eye.

“What the fuck is that?!” He exclaimed, making her whirl around, and he could see her gulp. She dropped the makeup and brush she was holding as Pete stalked towards her.

He grabbed her chin, gently but firmly, making her look up at him, but she didn’t meet his eyes.

He sneered, pissed, “Take it off. Take it all off. I want to see it.”

She gulped, and he released her, looking at her expectantly as she slowly pulled out a makeup remover and slowly, almost robotically removed all her makeup.

It seemed like it took ages, and Pete just stood there, arms crossed fuming.

He knew she had a boyfriend, but god forbid Pete find her scumbag boyfriend now, the devil wouldn’t hurt him as bad as Pete would.

She stood in front of him now, wiped clean, and he looked at her.

“Clothes too.”

She froze, looking at him in terror, but he still glared.

She relented, slowly, painfully slowly pulling off her shirt to stand before him in a sports bra.

He dropped his arms, and started to look at her, starting at her waist and going up from there.

Her ribs were horribly bruised, and there were older ones on her back. Her arms had fingerprints old and new. He moved up to her neck, where a handprint was, and her black eye was swollen.

“P-Pete…?”

He met her eyes, “What.” He bit out, mentally punching himself for snarling when she flinched.

“You…You’re shaking…”

“Of course I’m fucking shaking (Y/N) why the fuck wouldn’t I be!?” He snarled, his arms throwing outwards, but he froze when she dropped to her knees, protecting her head.

How had he never noticed before? The way she jerked when he touched her, the way she always seemed terrified when he was angry.

Pete stood for a moment, taking it all in, before he sunk to his knees too.

He pulled her into him gently, trying not to hurt her as she sobbed into her hands, “I-I-I’m so sorry Pete I’m so sorry…I never meant for this to happen he just…I’m so s-so scared please don’t yell.”

Pete felt his heart actually break a little bit, as he squeezed her harder, she wrapped her arms around his neck sobbing into his chest, and he kissed the top of her head.

“(Y/N), Love, listen to me.”

She sniffled, “Y-y-yeah?”

“Listen, Baby, you’re gonna come stay with me, okay? That’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna let me drive you to that fucking scum bag’s apartment, and I am going to go inside and get as much of your shit as I can get, and we will go back to my house, okay?”

“W-w-why?”

“Don’t be daft, (Y/N). You will never, and I mean never ever see that fucking disgusting human being again, do you understand me?”

“Y-Y-Yes Pete I understand…wh-why are you doing this for m-m-me though?”

Pete gripped her chin gently, making her look up at him, but only for a second because her eyes shut again when he pressed his lips to hers.

His lips were soft but firm and gentle but she could feel him holding himself back. She ran her hands down his huge biceps before snaking around his waist and he tangled his hands in her hair, sighing into the kiss. She tasted like strawberries and butterscotch and home, and he couldn’t get enough of it. She smelled like she always did, butterscotch and pumpkin.

“God,” He whispered between kisses when they kept taking breaths, “You,” Kiss, “Are,” Kiss, “So,” Kiss, “Perfect.”

She whimpered into the kiss, pressing her body against his, and he splayed one hand on the small of her back, and rested the other against her cheek, kissing and kissing and kissing. She was his drug. If he wasn’t hooked before, he was now.

Finally, though it wasn’t enough, they parted, and panting, Pete rested his forehead against hers, “I love you, (Y/N), I love you. I’ve loved you since you did my makeup all those months again. I love you. Let me take care of you, please. Let me be better than he was. Let me be yours.”

“Oh Pete,” she murmured, kissing him again, “I’ve been waiting for you to say that for so long…please rescue me. I love you.”

And Pete kissed her again, and his heart felt warm inside.

Maybe he wasn’t such an asshole after all.

[theeroticbookreview]

Release Blitz: Mother Trucker by Aria Cole

Amazon 

  Rocco O’Riley lives the life of a hermit. Alone on a secluded island, he outfits custom big rigs and shares his work with the world streaming to millions online. He never thought the new visibility would bring him fame and wealth, but with no one to share it with, the days in his workshop are long and empty, his success hollow until one night when a violent storm leaves a woman washed up and helpless, stranded alone with him on his little island. When Primrose Weatherford found herself abandoned on the side of a flooded road, she never thought a rugged stranger would be her saving grace and the sexiest thorn in her side at the same time. The owner of O’Riley’s Big Rig Rehab is burly, brooding, and not used to making polite conversation with pretty women. Especially ones that make him want to hand over his heart and love her for the rest of his forever. But can Prim handle all that Rocco's offering, or will this reclusive beast in a trucker hat run her off once and for all? Warning: The size of Rocco’s big rig is eclipsed only by his huge alpha heart. His rough-around-the-edges life softens when sweet Prim enters it, upending his carefully cultivated existence in a storm of epic proportions. Buckle up, dangerous curves ahead!  

“Isn’t there a rule about wearing white on rainy days?” The timbre of his voice tingled like sparks against my skin. “This one took me by surprise,” I whispered, tucking soaking-wet locks behind my ear. “You and me both.” I narrowed my eyes, sensitive nerves pricking in places they hadn’t since, well, pretty much…ever. I felt his gaze crawl over me, the thin white cotton of my button-down shirt obviously see-through by now. I gulped. He backed away, adjusting the angle of his worn trucker’s hat. Another crack of lightning lit the sky as I practically drooled over the startlingly golden-bronze shade of his skin, damp with rivulets of rainwater. The thundering in the distance was matched only by the thundering of my heart in my ear drums. Could he hear it? God, I hoped not. “My car stalled,” I finally blurted. “You mean that golf cart you got there?” He assessed my trusty little blue demon behind me. “That thing brings a lot of words to mind, but car isn’t one of them. Piece of shit maybe, but not car.” He moved up the short driveway, slapping at the rusted tailgate of a vintage Ford pickup. “And what do you call this?” I hollered at his back, rain still sliding down in determined drops, soaking into my bra and pebbling my nipples. Or was it him, all strong and manly looking? I hated it, either way. I vowed to banish all of the white shirts in my closet the minute I arrived home. “This”—he smacked the truck—“is my baby.” He reached the door of the garage, eyes on me again. “If that old thing impresses you, you should see my big rig.” My mouth shot open, embarrassment burning my cheeks as I thought I very well should turn around and stomp away, but I had no car and my phone battery was long dead. The sixty-minute drive home from work every day was a killer in the best of times, impossible on the worst days, apparently like this one. “I’m not sure what’s worse: enduring this storm or your corny jokes.” His chiseled features shot into an amused half grin that caused my heart to riot in my chest. “You’d be wrong to assume you’ll be the only one suffering.” His eyes made a point of coasting up and down my drenched form before he huffed and pushed off the doorjamb and descended into the darkness of the garage, door closing behind him. I frowned, missing his presence in a way I wasn’t altogether comfortable with. “Mother trucker.” I pushed through the door he’d just disappeared behind, surprised when blinding white light blasted my eyes. Shiny chrome toolboxes towering over raw pine workbenches worn soft with years of use surrounded me. “This is the cleanest garage I’ve ever seen.” I brushed my fingers along one pale workbench. “This isn’t my real shop, just the one I use for filming.” “Filming?” I raised an eyebrow. “Got a local cable show I don’t know about?” “More like half a billion followers streaming online.” He slung one heavy, denim-clad thigh over the nearest Harley, settling himself soundly as if he was made to be there. The broad stretch of his shoulders caught my attention. I fully appreciated the way his broad body swallowed up the space, so much so that the big bike looked small in comparison. A thrill of desire shot through me, blood hammering through my veins to a pounding rhythm. My mouth was suddenly dry, pain cracking my throat as cartwheels bounced around my diaphragm. Mother trucker. “Gotta confess, sweetheart, you’ve had me pegged. I’m a Harley man at heart, but my specialty is trucks. Leno called me in to rehab a classic Ford, and the LA Times did a piece. It’s been a circus since.” I gulped, taking in his words, still stumbling at how downright hot he made me under the engine. I cracked a smile at my own pun, suddenly wondering why the hell I’d found myself at this garage during this storm. Served me right for taking a new way home from work, but flooding had already caused a backup on the bridge out of town, so I’d thought it might be worth my time to take the scenic route home. Well, now the bridge on the edge of town was washed out, and I was stuck on a tiny strip of land that separated the river from the ocean. The only establishment on the island? This one. Luckily, from the outside it’d been well-lit, and with the promise of a power cord and a wrecker calling, I’d been fighting with my purse and about to knock on the door of his garage when he’d caught me outside in the downpour. “This place is pretty incredible.” “Thanks.” His gaze followed me shrewdly as I wandered the edge of the garage, between the motorcycles, modern and vintage, finally catching sight of myself in a full-length mirror in the corner. “Oh shit.” I crossed my arms over my shirt, horrified that I’d been so stunned by the perfection of this place that I’d forgotten I’d worn white and was soaked through. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “Can’t blame a guy for enjoying the view while it lasts.” I huffed, pulling down a coat that hung from a rack beside the mirror. I shrugged it on, folds of black leather swallowing me like a warm hug, the scent of what I imagined was him enveloping me, seeping deep into my bones and melting them like warm butter. Prickles of desire spun up through my nerves, and I did my best to tamp them down. “Do you have a charger?” I suddenly remembered my phone, pulling it from its place in my bag. He was at my side a moment later, lazy grin holding me captivated until I was stupid. “You look good wrapped up in my favorite jacket.” He winked once before spinning on a boot and leaving me all by myself, his scent clinging to me. “Coming, sweetheart?” he threw from across the room, big shoulder resting on the door frame. “Name’s not sweetheart.” I followed, dragging my feet because I knew…I just knew that whoever he was, this wouldn't end well. There was no way. I’d had my fair share of run-ins with arrogant, gorgeous men like him. I’d learned to steer clear. “What else should I call the lost little puppy that’s landed itself on my doorstep?” I bristled at his words, the feminist brewing inside me dampened by his overt and rogue sexuality. This son of a bitch was intoxicating. I met him chest to chest, hovering a moment. “Call me Primrose Weatherford.” His eyes grew ride, mouth popping open to respond before I moved without thinking and pushed past him and straight into his house, walking in like I belonged there, when really I felt for my own sanity that I should be running out. “Prim, huh?” he sang from behind me. “Not even a little bit surprised.”  

    Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache.For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn't take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book! Follow Aria on Amazon for new release updates, or stalk her on Facebook and Twitter to see which daring book boyfriend she's writing next! Sign up to get a NEW RELEASE ALERT from me! http://eepurl.com/ccGnRX Twitter - Facebook - Goodreads - Instagram - Amazon    

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[negans-network]

Cinderella Part 2

Summary: For @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash and her 2nd Negan Writing Challenge, this is for the foot fetish prompt introducing OFC Janine, who is both plus-sized and nonwhite.

Word Count:  6259

Warnings: Foul Language, Sexual Imagery and Language, Outright smut. Fellatio. Female masturbation. Vaginal sex. Of course I’m gonna have feet stuff in here. Also like surprisingly soft Negan too.

Author: @genevievedarcygranger 

Author’s Note: Lol would you believe me if I told you that I wrote this for like 6 hours straight at like 4 in the morning man. 

Back in his bedroom, Negan slammed the door closed behind them before he gently placed Lucille down in her designated spot. Janine knew it was Lucille’s spot because the chair she was placed in had nicks in the cushion from her barbwire. Glancing back at Negan, Janine saw that he had already stripped off his black leather jacket and had tossed it on the couch. Never one to be complacent during sex, Janine stepped forward, catching his hands. “Let me, undress you,” She kissed his chin because that is how high she could reach on her toes, and his facial hair scratched her lips pleasantly. “That’s half the fun of sex, after all.”

Immediately, Negan stilled his movements, allowing her to do as she wanted. “Damn, you’re gonna make the most of this, aren’t cha?” Janine didn’t answer as she slipped her hands under his white shirt, rolling it up his torso to reveal his dark happy trail bit by bit. “You know this isn’t a job interview or even a damn promotion, even if I am your fucking boss.” He paused as he took the shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it beside his jacket. Negan had forgone wearing his red scarf today. “Besides, if it was, you already got the fucking job.”

Janine ignored him as she ran her hands up and down his torso appreciatively. “Just let me enjoy this,” she gently scratched her nails down his arms, tracing her eyes over every bit of his bare flesh. He had a lot of tattoos: a skull on one pectoral muscles, a cross on his bicep, a bird and banner on the other bicep, an old-fashioned pistol on the inside of one forearm, and the word Bisou on the outside of his forearm. She paused at that, mentally translating the word in her mind: Kiss. Her BA required two years in a foreign language, and so did high school. Janine still remembered French despite everything.

Doing as the tattoo declared, she leaned forward and pressed kisses on every visible tattoo. When she got to the tattoo on his pec, she lingered, glancing up at him shyly before she dragged her mouth to one of his nipples and took that in her mouth. Hooded-eyes watched her every move and when she did that Negan’s head fell back a moan. “Damn it, Janine,” he cursed, clearly out of pleasure.

With impish delight, she pulled back, taking his hands in her own again. She giggled, clearly enjoying herself. Janine had been wanting to do this for so very long, and now her fantasy was coming true. “Let me make you feel good, Negan,” she sighed to him.

Grasping his left hand firmly in her own, she examined the bandage wrapped around his wrist curiously before looking up at him in question. “Just a wrap to prevent me from injuring my wrist,” Negan explained, gesturing with his eyes towards Lucille. Janine’s mouth formed a silent ‘o’ before she slowly started to unwrap it.

That finished, her hands moved to his belt, which she undid in a quick, efficient, business-like manner. It slid from his pants with a satisfying hiss, and jingled as she tossed it away carelessly. Negan teased her, “What, you didn’t want me to fucking use that belt on you, Janine?”

Shaking her head at him, Janine bit her lip, her fingers playing with the button of his pants. Internally, she was debating with herself and Negan could see when she came to a decision when she got this determined look on his face. Then she surprised him by dropping to her knees suddenly. “What the fuck are you –!”

She shushed him as she bent over, prostrating herself on the floor as though she were bowing. Once again, she looked up at him, her dark eyes glinting mischievously. Then Negan watched in rapt attention as her pink tongue flicked out her mouth and licked up his boots starting from the toe. Repeating the process on the other boot made Negan’s cock as hard as a rock in his pants and he hadn’t even seen her tits yet. Janine kissed his boots, hands coming up to cradle one foot, and she ever so gently slid them off of his feet with such reverence. Carefully, Negan balanced himself as he allowed her to do this, very curious in what she was doing. Once his feet were free, Negan unthinkingly wiggled his toes, digging them into the floor. In response, Janine sat back on her heels, eyeing his feet, and Negan swore that she looked damn pleased with herself.

When she looked back up at him, she caught him off-guard and Negan’s spine bowed backwards as he raised an eyebrow at her in question. Still, Janine didn’t say anything, her hands reaching up to finally unbutton and unzip his pants. In one fluid movement, she pulled both his pants and his boxers down, and Negan hopped out of them quickly, standing before her stark-naked. He was a proud man, so he wasn’t ashamed when his dick sprung to attention, dangling in front of her face.

It didn’t bother Janine either, because she wrapped her hands around its base and immediately stuck it in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she bobbed up and down, taking him deep all the way. Immediately, Negan’s hands came up and wrapped in the end of her hair, directly her to move how he liked. Subsequently, he was dissolving into groans, too. This was all so unexpected; he’d thought that bringing her back here would mean he’d do all the work exploring her body, but he couldn’t be farther from the case – or happier for that matter.

Way too quickly for Negan’s liking, he knew he was getting close. “Oh, fuck! Janine,” he managed through his gritted teeth, “if you keep fucking going I won’t be able to fucking stop – ahhh!” Before he could even finish his sentence, Janine had deepthroated him and hummed, her hands working his balls. He came on the spot and she took him all in, swallowing it down. She was looking at him while she did it, too, which prolonged his orgasm by another weak spurt. After that he could barely stand, and stumbled against his bed as he recovered, breathing heavily. “God damn, Janine.”

From the floor, Janine wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and licked it clean. There was a smug look on her face that Negan was dying to fuck off, but he needed a bit to recover. Slowly, he eased himself backwards until he was sitting on the bed, staring at her hard and muttering curses under his breath. Crawling towards him with a devilish smile that could rival his own, Janine caught one of his feet in her hand and dragged her thumb up the arch of his foot. Crossing her legs underneath her, she started massaging his feet without another word, smiling while she did it.

Still caught up in the pleasant afterglow of his orgasm, Negan didn’t pull away, too tired to even do that. “You know if I wanted a massage, I could’ve asked Frankie to come back with me.” He informed her in a low sort of voice.

“But you didn’t.” She sounded way too chipper. “You asked me. You proposed to me, too, and I’m still thinking about my answer.”

“Well, shit, then. I just you want you to know I normally last for longer than that, but damn if you didn’t catch me by surprise with that freaky boot-licking shit.” Negan’s head dropped backward and his eyes closed when Janine rubbed a particularly good spot. He groaned, and then cracked open his eyes when he looked back down at her. “Hell, you can still kneel for me and lick my boots and all that shit as my wife, Janine. All you have to do is say fucking yes.”

Humming noncommittally, Janine focused on his feet, refusing to make eye-contact with him. She was right. He had very pretty feet, long and pleasing the eye. His toes were well formed with the big toe on each foot having a bit of hair. Black hair dusted the top of his feet, too, and grew thicker on his legs. There was a wild nest of black hair on his groin that crawled up his stomach and spread over his chest. It swirled temptingly around his nipples, which is why she couldn’t help but take a taste of them earlier. The hair on his arms were a little sparser, but she liked everything she saw. Negan was not overly hairy, but just enough that she deemed it manly.

The black tattoos were very interesting, and she was dying to know why he got them, but that could come later if she said yes. Of course, his cock was huge – he had the ego to match – and he was cut and well-proportioned, with this vein she had particularly enjoyed tonguing that traced from his sack to the bulbous head on the underside of his cock. Yes, he was a very pretty man, and she was having trouble deciding if she wanted to bounce on his cock or sit on her strong jawline instead. His large nose was calling her name.

Despite all his attractive features, though, Janine’s eyes kept getting drawn back to his feet. There were just pretty, so pretty. The bottom of his feet were a little rough, but he didn’t have corns or anything gross like that. The top of his feet were soft, the softest skin she’d felt on him with the exception of the silkiness of his cock. With more vigor but the same gentle touch, she rubbed him harder, enjoying massaging him just as much as he was enjoying receiving the massage.

Looking up at him, Janine could see his eyes rolling with pleasure underneath his eyelids, his mouth dropped open wide in a face similar to the one he made when he came. His come was salty, but delicious otherwise. It was getting harder and harder to come up with reasons why she should say no. “Am I a better masseuse than Frankie?”

 “Fuck yes,” Negan immediately answered without a second thought. “That’s not even a damn question.” He opened his eyes again – he was having trouble keeping them open due to the combined effect of an orgasm and the massage making him sleepy. “Frankie’s way too damn rough. She wanted to stand on my spine once, but I said fucking no to that stupid shit.”

 “Well, I’m not even going to ask to do that,” Janine replied easily. It was easy to talk to him. “You’d snap in half underneath my weight.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Negan told her tiredly, “I want you to ride my dick later, and I doubt you’ll snap my dick in half.”

“I just might.”

“No, you fucking won’t, Janine.”

 Lapsing into silence, Janine switched to the other foot. At this rate, he may fall asleep before he ever even gets his dick inside her. Part of Janine was regretful for that, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be other opportunities. She was still considering herself lucky to have been able to do all of this with his so far.

Before the end of the world, Janine didn’t put much thought into how she would be proposed to, but now that she has, she didn’t consider it to be too bad. It wasn’t romantic by any means, but just seeing the looks on both Frankie’s and Tanya’s face made it well worth it. Besides, Janine enjoyed the surprise of it. She had always loved surprises.

The more she thought about it, too, the more Janine was thinking about saying yes. Should she tease Negan about it some more, though? Maybe he would enjoy the chase. But Janine would probably enjoy not working for points anymore even more. Even if she had to share Negan with Frankie and Tanya still, she could get used to it if it meant she could wear dresses and pretty underwear again and have regular showers. Speaking of which… “Negan?”

 “Hm?” Negan didn’t even bother to open his eyes now. He had flopped completely backwards on his bed, flat on his back. Janine couldn’t even see his face anymore, though she could see that his dick was making a valiant effort to rise again. She licked her lips. Maybe this night could be fulfilling to her, too, in more ways than one.

“Before we do anything further, I’d like to take a shower.” At that he lifted his head, and Janine quickly continued, “I would like to be fresh and stuff, you know, so it can be more pleasant for you.”

 “Shit, I don’t mind licking the sweat from your skin, Janine. I like my dirty girls to be filthy as fuck.” His head lolled to the side, and he just barely managed to open his eyes. “But I wouldn’t be fucking opposed for a damn bath myself.”

“Bath?” She repeated a little too eagerly, her ears disbelieving.

“Hell yeah, bath,” Negan answered her, “I’m too fucking tired to try and stand up and fuck you against the shower wall.” He held up a finger in warning. “And before you say shit, just know that usually I can pick anyone up and fuck them against the wall, but you caught me on a bad day.” Rubbing his eyes, he continued with a slight yawn, “Damn, you got me like putty in your hands.”

Smiling at his words, Janine released his feet with one last fond pet of his toes. Climbing to her own feet, Janine looked toward his bathroom, shifting excitedly back and forth. She had cleaned his bathroom many times before, and knew he had a bathtub. Baths were considered a luxury, though, so she had just been expecting that he would let her get a quick five-minute shower. But now she was being allowed to relax in a hot bath with Negan of all people. Janine was going to make it a bubble bath. “Well, come on, then, sleepy-head. Let’s get you all cleaned up before you climb back into bed, baby.” She was only half-way teasing him. Janine was a very doting person.

 “Alright, alright,” Negan conceded to her urging. “Help me up, Janine.” Holding out his hands to her, she caught him and pulled. Lazily, he rolled to his feet, his movements graceful, even when he was completely nude. He allowed himself to be dragged to the bathroom by Janine where he leaned against the doorframe, watching her set everything up.

Since she cleaned his rooms, she knew where everything was so she started adding soap to the tub as it filled with warm water. The heat was palpable as it began to steam, fogging up the mirror. Testing the temperature with her hand, Janine was satisfied, deeming it not too hot that it scalded or too cold to be uncomfortable. Flicking her hand dry, she glanced back over her shoulder at Negan, his eyes squinty with amusement. “Go ahead, get in, Negan.” She gestured for him to go first. “I’ll follow you in after.”

The man didn’t have to be told twice as he strode across the bathroom to the tub. He paused before he climbed in, though, leaning close towards Janine. Again, he kissed her by surprise – tongue and all despite the fact that earlier she had her mouth around her dick. The kiss was languid, much like his mood, and Janine enjoyed it just as much as their first kiss. Too soon, he pulled away with a sleepy sort of smile and then gingerly climbed in the tub.

It took some guessing on her part to make sure she added enough water that it wouldn’t spill over the sides of the tub with them both in it, but Janine was sure that she got it right. The bathtub was big enough for two to fit easily, though it would be a tight fit considering Negan’s long limbs and Janine’s larger size. They could make it work, though. Once Negan was seated, sprawled out and relaxing, completely covered by the soap bubbles that rose on the waterline to about his nipples in height, Janine started to undress.

First, she kicked off her shoes, and they flew off, landing somewhere inside his bedroom. There was a thump as one of them hit the back of the couch pretty hard, and Janine winced. Negan didn’t say anything, though, so she figured it was fine. Looking at him, Janine paused, considering. Negan’s eyes were open, watching her closely with his head resting against the side of the tub. He was going to see her naked, now, and if she still wanted to be a wife, she had to make this sexy for him.

Grabbing the bottom of her shirt, she turned her back to him before she pulled it off and tossed it on the bathroom sink. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she saw that a smile was curling his lips. Pleased with herself, she unbuttoned her pants and then pushed them down over her hips, bending over as she pushed them all the way off her legs before she stepped out of them daintily. She made sure to push her ass out far and wiggle it at him a bit, very grateful that she wore her best pair of panties today. Standing up straight again, she reached around and unhooked her bra, also grateful that this was her best one. With her back still turned toward him, she pulled it off and tossed it away before pulling her hair in front of her. Her hair was long enough that she could maintain her decency with it, not even a nipple showing.

“Are you ever gonna let me fucking see you?” Negan asked, not mad or impatient, but clearly stating his intentions.

Carefully looking at him over her shoulder again, Janine bit her lip to hold back her laughter. He looked as regal as a king, confidently splayed out like that. But the bubbles were just too adorable on him, too. “Of course, you’re gonna get to see me, Negan, baby. Patience is a virtue.”

He didn’t say anything, clearly waiting for her to continue. Gathering all of her courage, Janine hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties and ever so slowly dragged them down, bending over at the waist and pushed out her ass again for him. In her opinion, her ass was her best feature, after all. Once she pulled them off, Janine spread her legs a bit, peeking out from behind her calf to gage Negan’s reaction.

His gaze was steady, hot, and heavy on her revealed sex, already dripping in need for him. Imperiously, he lifted a hand and crooked two fingers at her in a come-hither motion. “Get your fine ass in this tub now, Janine. That’s an order.”

Happy with his reaction, she straightened back up. “Yes, sir.” After all, she as good at following orders. She quickly turned around, not pausing to give him time to look at her, and she climbed into the tub, the movements not as graceful as his by any means nor as sexy as she would have liked. None of that mattered though as soon as she sunk into the bubble-filled and warm wet, her muscles relaxing in relief. It had been way too long since her last soak in the tub.

There was some awkward maneuvering as they got themselves situated comfortably. Luckily, Janine had filled the tub to the right height and now with both of their combined weight the water rose nearly up to Negan’s chin, the bubbles clinging to his beard and almost making her jealous that she couldn’t do the same. In the end, it ended up with Janine’s legs spread and her heels hooked around the edge of the tub. Negan’s legs were spread, too, his feet in a similar position on either side of her head much like hers were. Janine could feel his balls resting gently against her in the water. There were so many bubbles that everything below the water was kept hidden. Janine liked the added element of mystery.

“Fuck, this is nice,” Negan exclaimed, sighing with happiness.

From across the tub where Janine was playing with the bubbles, she hummed her agreement. “I bet you get to do this all the time, huh?”

“No, actually, this is the first time I’ve had a fucking bubble bath in this tub. And you fucking talked me into it. Shit.”

“Does that mean you’ve had bubble baths before?” Janine teased.

He scoffed at her, “Yeah, when I was fucking three.”

“See, bubble baths aren’t so bad now. They’re relaxing.” Janine started scooping the foam on her chest, piling them on her breasts and up to her chin in a Santa beard style.

“Almost as fucking relaxing as that damn foot massage you gave me,” Negan countered, eyes closed. Since he could hardly admire her naked form when it was hidden underneath the bubbles, he didn’t bother trying to fight his eyes from closing anymore.

Janine didn’t say anything, having too much with what she was doing. His feet on either side of her were all too tempting, and she was happy just watching him curl his toes in the air in satisfaction. Oh yes, she was definitely going to accept his marriage proposal now, especially if that meant there could be repeats of this bubble bath experience.

From the other side of the tub, Negan started snoring having finally dropped off into the land of nod. Janine was deeply shocked, not believing it, but as she watched she could tell that he was in a deep sleep. Both she – and before her Michaela – must have worn him out pretty well. On top of that, she was sure he had a long and busy day as well. It’s not easy running not only the Sanctuary, but multiple other communities as well. It takes a lot of hard work. So, Janine allowed him to rest, enjoying just relaxing with him in the bath.

In the meantime, she had ducked her head under the water, washing her hair. Luxuriously, she enjoyed shaving her legs and armpits, too, getting her skin silky smooth for Negan. Then she started soaping herself up, too.

With Negan sitting across from her in the tub, snoring through his nose, Janine slipped her hand between her legs, lazily dragging her fingers up and down her seam. Playing with herself with her eyes locked on his beautiful face, she circled her clit, teasing herself before she finally gave in and pushed two fingers inside of herself, curling them in an easy pace. Her toes mimicked the movement, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from moaning out loud. Her other hand attended to her nipples, switching between them as she alternating between twisting and flicking.

At one point, she pulled a breast up to her mouth, latching on to her own nipple as she imagined it was Negan’s sinful lips and tongue instead. Janine was also imagining that it was his hand between her legs, too, his thick cock rather than her fingers buried in her pussy. Wishing that his mouth was opened in pleasure rather than in sleep, Janine added a third finger, stretching herself a bit. She sped up a little, too, pushing deeper until she finally reached that special spot; and then within seconds she was spasming around her fingers, whining through her orgasm. Still, Negan didn’t awake, none the wiser.

As she recovered, she starting thinking again. When she had first slipped her hand down beneath the water, her fingertips had brushed over his balls that were resting against her. Negan had twitched, but otherwise slept peacefully. Briefly, she wondered if he would enjoy being woken up with his cock in her mouth again, but she decided that that was too much an invasion of his privacy. Besides, she felt dirty enough having masturbated in the same bathtub as him while he was sleeping right there.

Eventually, though, as the water rapidly cooled and became tepid, Janine knew she would have to wake him. Gently, she grabbed one of his feet in each of her hands and started massaging him again, figuring that that would be a pleasant way for him to wake up. But he slept through that. “Negan!” She whispered to him. Then in a normal speaking voice she tried again, “Negan!” He was out like a light. Left with little else to do, Janine released one of his feet and splashed water at him. “Negan!”

That finally got his attention, and he jerked awake with a start. “Damn, Janine, what is it? I was just resting my fucking eyes.” He shook his head, flicking water droplets everywhere.

“I can’t have you drowning in the tub with me Negan. They’ll kill me,” Janine half-joked with him.

The joke got a chuckle out of him. When Negan looked at her again, he immediately dissolved into a riotous fit of laughter, fully awake after his powernap.

“What?” Janine asked him, confused at his behavior. “What is it?”

“I was asleep for so fucking long,” Negan guffawed at her, “that you grew a fucking Santa beard.” Now remembering it, Janine sluiced it off, the bubbles dissolving in the water. Still, she was smiling, happy to have made him laugh in some way.

Negan watched her, his eyes wide open now, and he broke out into a larger smile, though it seemed a little sinister. Before Janine could ask what it was again, Negan commented, “My, now that the bubbles have gone, I get to see those fantastic fucking tits you’ve been hiding from me. And you have a bite mark on one of your nipples.” He jerked his chin at her, “Care to fucking explain that? You have a little dipshit boyfriend or girlfriend I don’t fucking know about.”

Flushing with embarrassment, Janine thought fast about what excuse she could give him. Belatedly, her hands came up to cover herself, but she knew it was already too late. Damn, she should have been more careful. Negan just watched though as the blush from her cheeks spread down her chest. He raised an eyebrow at her, refusing to let this go. “I’m not seeing anyone, Negan,” Janine began haltingly.

“Oh, so it was a quick fuck situation? Well, if you’re going to be my fucking wife you can’t fuck anyone else but me. Deal with those rules and we’ll be cool. If not, beat it, and I rescind my marriage proposal,” Negan explained to Janine.

“I understand, but I promise you. I really haven’t been seeing anyone. I didn’t even have any boyfriends in college, just a hook up here and there occasionally.” Reluctantly, she admitted to him, “It’s been a while, though, since I’ve last had sex.

“Then who the fuck gave you that?” Negan was stubborn. “It’s like I told Tanya, I don’t like liars.”

Biting her lip, Janine withheld her answer for a moment before she finally gave in. “I did.”

There was silence, and then Negan practically exploded with manic glee and excitement. “No fucking shit, you can suck your own tit? That’s pretty fucking amazing, Janine. Fucking show me. That’s hot as shit.” Regretting her decision, Janine still did as he commanded except she used the other breast this time, not wanting to hurt her nipple from where she bit it. Instantly, Negan cheered. “Hot damn, that’s some good shit. But fucking tell me, Janine. Why did you do that when I’m right here? Climb the fuck on my lap, darling, let me do that for you.”

Releasing her breast, Janine gave Negan a hard stare. “Wait.”

“Wait for what? My dick is so hard right now, Janine. Go ahead and take a look.” He gestured to his fully erect cock, clearly visible under the water. The sight of it had Janine gushing again. Like him she was ready for round two despite already climaxing once tonight. “I promise you I’ll last more than fifteen minutes.”

Swallowing, Janine looked back up at him. “I need a moment.”

“Fucking fine, then, but I’m telling you that you being on top is not gonna snap my dick in half. I’m strong. I can handle it.” Negan said, not actually angry. “But you know, this just makes me think that you fucking playing with herself while I was asleep, am I right? Fuck, how long was I out?”

Not bothering to confirm or deny Negan’s suspicions, Janine shifted a bit. She couldn’t believe that she was about to sleep with Negan. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Negan curl his toes in the air. Reaching out, she gently grabbed his foot and eased it down to her, bringing it close to her face. Negan didn’t comment or resist, his dark eyes watching her curiously. She kissed his foot, and he sucked in a breath. Ever so slowly, Janine kissed her way up his foot until she reached his toes, and she and Negan made eye contact as she wrapped her lips around his big toe. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked it just like she did his dick, and his dick throbbed in remembrance. “Fuck,” he quietly gasped, not believing that he was into this kind of freaky-deaky kinky shit.

With a pop, she released his toe from her mouth with a smile. “Okay, I’m ready now.” That seemed to be all the confidence boost that she needed before Janine slowly started to climb on top of him, being careful not to slosh water anywhere or hurt him in anyway.

In a daze, Negan let her get comfortable. Janine set his head spinning every which way. He never knew what to expect her. There were no regrets in proposing to her as she brought so many new qualities that his other wives lacked. She was good for conversation, had amazing tits, and was pretty damn kinky. Also, she didn’t mind spoiling him or relaxing with him. He didn’t have to have a firm hand or be dominant with her. Yes, he was enjoying how unique and different she was very much.

Once Janine had comfortably settled herself with her legs squeezed on either side of his hips against the sides of her tub, she rubbed herself up and down his length. The water element made things a lot more exciting, and as she moved her breasts bobbed up and down in the water. The soap bubbles were nearly all gone now. Everything below the water was clearly visible to the both of them.

Splaying his hands across her belly, Negan finally took in the sight of her. Her skin was so brown, though not exactly smooth. She had scars here and there, stretchmarks in the usual places like her hips, the sides of her breasts, her stomach. He managed to spot one brown birthmark on her side, and curiously ran his thumb over it. Of course, her tits were fantastic and huge, both more than a handful each. Testing that theory, he cupped both and found he was right. Her nipples were brown, too, just a bit darker than she was. There was a mole on the underside of one breast, and he gently traced his thumb over that, too. Janine was pleasantly plump, her thighs thick, rolls on her side, just all around chubby. But Negan appreciated the softness as she pressed against him, working them both up into a frenzy as she rubbed her clit up and down the length of his dick.

Leaning back, Negan caught her mouth in their third kiss, tangling his tongue with hers while his hands played her nipples. Pulling back, he murmured to her, “Fucking ride me, Janine, you’re fucking beautiful.”

Breathless from the kiss, Janine nodded and held him in place as she sunk down on him. He slid all the way into place, the head of his cock just nudging against her cervix once she was fully seated. They both moaned in unison at the feeling, and Janine gripped his shoulders tight as she began to lift herself up and down. Negan pulled her closer, desperate to taste her tits, and he caught a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. He started to move along with her, pushing up inside her tightness harder and harder with every thrust. Every time she slammed down on him, his balls smacked against her ass, the water cushioning the blow. Water was sloshing everywhere, rippling around their bodies, their movements making waves.

Janine was a moaning mess, head tilted back and eyes closed in pleasure as she moved how she wanted to. She adjusted her position once, and Negan went from brushing against her g-spot to full on hitting it directly with the blunt head of his cock. Her moans became louder and she moved faster in her eagerness to reach her peak.

Negan was right there with her, adoring her tits far too much. Looking up at her, he took immense pride in seeing her pretty face crumple in pleasure, in Janine moaning his name in a litany like it was the only word she knew. The only reason he wasn’t moaning just like her was because he had a mouthful of tit and he enjoyed the unique flavor of Janine’s skin. Reaching down between their bodies, Negan’s thumb found her clitoris, and her tapped it with the pad of his thumb, barely brushing it. Janine’s rhythm faltered, and around the nipple he had in his mouth, Negan smiled and then ruthlessly mashed his thumb down on her clit, rubbing hard. Janine immediately climaxed around him, still moving up and down as she worked herself through her own orgasm, prolonging it. Negan’s eyes squeezed shut as he savored the feeling, quickening his pace so he could finish, too. 

Again, though, Janine surprised him as she clumsily clambered off of his dick, her hand replacing her pussy. She worked him hard, twisting her wrist, her hand warm and wet, only lacking the velvet softness of a pussy as she jerked him off. Then Janine slipped under the water, her mouth replacing her hand, and she dragged her teeth along the side of his dick as she pushed him all the way in her mouth, nose bumping against his pubic bone and balls bobbing up on her chin.

He came without warning, not even able to tap her head, but Janine didn’t need the warning as she sucked his come down again for the second time that night. Below the water, she couldn’t hear the harshness in Negan’s voice as he babbled, “Holy fuckity fucking shit fuck! Janine! Janine! Janine! God damn, fucking fuck!”

When she needed air, she came up again, gasping for it. Negan caught ahold of her by the back of her neck and pulled her to him for their fourth kiss. He kept surprising her with sweet kisses just as much as she surprised with the freaky, kinky shit as she sucked on various parts of his anatomy. She had to break their kiss off early, still in need of air as she gasped for oxygen.

Once she recovered her breath, Janine crawled back on his lap again, his dick limp beneath her, but she was careful not to crush it. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she ran her fingers through his hair before absentmindedly reaching for the soap, already ready to wash his hair for him. “Oh, God, I made a mess,” she commented as she peeked over the side of the tub. She had sloshed water on the floor everywhere, and she was already thinking of how to clean it up as she buried her fingers in his hair, avoiding getting too close to his eyes.

“Don’t fucking worry about the mess, you’re not the maid anymore. Someone else can handle it.” Relaxing at her touch, Negan allowed her to wash his hair, doubtlessly enjoying the pampering and the attention. Usually it was his wives who demanded this kind of attention from him, so it was nice to have the roles reversed for once. Negan was close to following asleep again. He had his arms slung across her hips, wrapped around her waist with his hands splayed possessively over her back. His fingertips rubbed small circled into her flesh, the touch light as a feather, and he rubbed his fingers over her stretchmarks, their smoothness curious to him, but pleasant as well.

Taking her time, Janine massaged her fingertips into his scalp before rinsing him off. She cupped her palms in the water, dribbling it over his face, and his eyes had fallen shut in complete satisfaction and relaxation. Janine enjoyed watching his serene face, and rubbed her palms over his stubble repetitively like one who would pet a cat. The texture was pleasant, simultaneously scratching and tickling her. His facial hair fascinated Janine just as much as her stretchmarks did him.  

When she was done, she stopped, examining his face. He opened his eyes, looking up at her enraptured and beguiling. “Fuck, Janine, please fucking marry me,” Negan practically begged.

A slow and easy smile spread across Janine’s face. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Negan, baby.” Then for the first time that night, Janine kissed Negan first in their fifth kiss together.

[theeroticbookreview]

Release Blitz: Mother Trucker by Aria Cole

Amazon 

  Rocco O’Riley lives the life of a hermit. Alone on a secluded island, he outfits custom big rigs and shares his work with the world streaming to millions online. He never thought the new visibility would bring him fame and wealth, but with no one to share it with, the days in his workshop are long and empty, his success hollow until one night when a violent storm leaves a woman washed up and helpless, stranded alone with him on his little island. When Primrose Weatherford found herself abandoned on the side of a flooded road, she never thought a rugged stranger would be her saving grace and the sexiest thorn in her side at the same time. The owner of O’Riley’s Big Rig Rehab is burly, brooding, and not used to making polite conversation with pretty women. Especially ones that make him want to hand over his heart and love her for the rest of his forever. But can Prim handle all that Rocco's offering, or will this reclusive beast in a trucker hat run her off once and for all? Warning: The size of Rocco’s big rig is eclipsed only by his huge alpha heart. His rough-around-the-edges life softens when sweet Prim enters it, upending his carefully cultivated existence in a storm of epic proportions. Buckle up, dangerous curves ahead!  

“Isn’t there a rule about wearing white on rainy days?” The timbre of his voice tingled like sparks against my skin. “This one took me by surprise,” I whispered, tucking soaking-wet locks behind my ear. “You and me both.” I narrowed my eyes, sensitive nerves pricking in places they hadn’t since, well, pretty much…ever. I felt his gaze crawl over me, the thin white cotton of my button-down shirt obviously see-through by now. I gulped. He backed away, adjusting the angle of his worn trucker’s hat. Another crack of lightning lit the sky as I practically drooled over the startlingly golden-bronze shade of his skin, damp with rivulets of rainwater. The thundering in the distance was matched only by the thundering of my heart in my ear drums. Could he hear it? God, I hoped not. “My car stalled,” I finally blurted. “You mean that golf cart you got there?” He assessed my trusty little blue demon behind me. “That thing brings a lot of words to mind, but car isn’t one of them. Piece of shit maybe, but not car.” He moved up the short driveway, slapping at the rusted tailgate of a vintage Ford pickup. “And what do you call this?” I hollered at his back, rain still sliding down in determined drops, soaking into my bra and pebbling my nipples. Or was it him, all strong and manly looking? I hated it, either way. I vowed to banish all of the white shirts in my closet the minute I arrived home. “This”—he smacked the truck—“is my baby.” He reached the door of the garage, eyes on me again. “If that old thing impresses you, you should see my big rig.” My mouth shot open, embarrassment burning my cheeks as I thought I very well should turn around and stomp away, but I had no car and my phone battery was long dead. The sixty-minute drive home from work every day was a killer in the best of times, impossible on the worst days, apparently like this one. “I’m not sure what’s worse: enduring this storm or your corny jokes.” His chiseled features shot into an amused half grin that caused my heart to riot in my chest. “You’d be wrong to assume you’ll be the only one suffering.” His eyes made a point of coasting up and down my drenched form before he huffed and pushed off the doorjamb and descended into the darkness of the garage, door closing behind him. I frowned, missing his presence in a way I wasn’t altogether comfortable with. “Mother trucker.” I pushed through the door he’d just disappeared behind, surprised when blinding white light blasted my eyes. Shiny chrome toolboxes towering over raw pine workbenches worn soft with years of use surrounded me. “This is the cleanest garage I’ve ever seen.” I brushed my fingers along one pale workbench. “This isn’t my real shop, just the one I use for filming.” “Filming?” I raised an eyebrow. “Got a local cable show I don’t know about?” “More like half a billion followers streaming online.” He slung one heavy, denim-clad thigh over the nearest Harley, settling himself soundly as if he was made to be there. The broad stretch of his shoulders caught my attention. I fully appreciated the way his broad body swallowed up the space, so much so that the big bike looked small in comparison. A thrill of desire shot through me, blood hammering through my veins to a pounding rhythm. My mouth was suddenly dry, pain cracking my throat as cartwheels bounced around my diaphragm. Mother trucker. “Gotta confess, sweetheart, you’ve had me pegged. I’m a Harley man at heart, but my specialty is trucks. Leno called me in to rehab a classic Ford, and the LA Times did a piece. It’s been a circus since.” I gulped, taking in his words, still stumbling at how downright hot he made me under the engine. I cracked a smile at my own pun, suddenly wondering why the hell I’d found myself at this garage during this storm. Served me right for taking a new way home from work, but flooding had already caused a backup on the bridge out of town, so I’d thought it might be worth my time to take the scenic route home. Well, now the bridge on the edge of town was washed out, and I was stuck on a tiny strip of land that separated the river from the ocean. The only establishment on the island? This one. Luckily, from the outside it’d been well-lit, and with the promise of a power cord and a wrecker calling, I’d been fighting with my purse and about to knock on the door of his garage when he’d caught me outside in the downpour. “This place is pretty incredible.” “Thanks.” His gaze followed me shrewdly as I wandered the edge of the garage, between the motorcycles, modern and vintage, finally catching sight of myself in a full-length mirror in the corner. “Oh shit.” I crossed my arms over my shirt, horrified that I’d been so stunned by the perfection of this place that I’d forgotten I’d worn white and was soaked through. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “Can’t blame a guy for enjoying the view while it lasts.” I huffed, pulling down a coat that hung from a rack beside the mirror. I shrugged it on, folds of black leather swallowing me like a warm hug, the scent of what I imagined was him enveloping me, seeping deep into my bones and melting them like warm butter. Prickles of desire spun up through my nerves, and I did my best to tamp them down. “Do you have a charger?” I suddenly remembered my phone, pulling it from its place in my bag. He was at my side a moment later, lazy grin holding me captivated until I was stupid. “You look good wrapped up in my favorite jacket.” He winked once before spinning on a boot and leaving me all by myself, his scent clinging to me. “Coming, sweetheart?” he threw from across the room, big shoulder resting on the door frame. “Name’s not sweetheart.” I followed, dragging my feet because I knew…I just knew that whoever he was, this wouldn't end well. There was no way. I’d had my fair share of run-ins with arrogant, gorgeous men like him. I’d learned to steer clear. “What else should I call the lost little puppy that’s landed itself on my doorstep?” I bristled at his words, the feminist brewing inside me dampened by his overt and rogue sexuality. This son of a bitch was intoxicating. I met him chest to chest, hovering a moment. “Call me Primrose Weatherford.” His eyes grew ride, mouth popping open to respond before I moved without thinking and pushed past him and straight into his house, walking in like I belonged there, when really I felt for my own sanity that I should be running out. “Prim, huh?” he sang from behind me. “Not even a little bit surprised.”  

    Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache.For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn't take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book! Follow Aria on Amazon for new release updates, or stalk her on Facebook and Twitter to see which daring book boyfriend she's writing next! Sign up to get a NEW RELEASE ALERT from me! http://eepurl.com/ccGnRX Twitter - Facebook - Goodreads - Instagram - Amazon    

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