#reblog for a wider answer pool please <3

[redbeansoups]

Move-In Day

Cove Holden x Reader

In which Cove Holden helps you move into your brand new dorm, and wishes you farewell before your freshman year.

Takes place after Step 3.

*

Like it or not, your life has always revolved around one Cove Holden. One bright-eyed, silky-haired, infuriatingly endearing Cove Holden. It’s always been him, in everything you’ve done, forever a spectator and participant in one. You have never known a time without him: your classmate, neighbor, best friend and boyfriend-extraordinaire.

Even now, as you edge into adulthood, Cove Holden is all you know: seated beside you with one hand on the wheel, wavy hair tucked behind his ears, his eyes longingly on yours. He catches your gaze, and offers you a smile, full of sincerity as always.

The journey upstate had been a long time coming; a goal, ever-present, but inching along so slowly that you’d opted merely to brush it off. But as the summer of your senior year came to a close, your move-in day had sprung up on you like an unpleasant (albeit somewhat enthralling) surprise.

Cove, forever a gentleman, had insisted on driving you all the way. You’d argued against him, only to be shut down–and quite firmly at that. “If you’re going to be moving so far away,” he’d told you one night, “then the least I can do is go and see you off.” He was a much better driver than you anyway, you’d reasoned with yourself, and it’d be nice to have another pair of hands to unpack. The idea of flying alone didn’t quite appeal to you either, so, after hardly a moment’s hesitation, you’d agreed to let him tag along.

College, all the way up north–you can hardly believe you’d come so far. You’d dreamt of this for years, spent months drafting application essays and crafting resumes. Years of preparation and research, though, hadn't seemed to brace you for the anxiety to come.

Even now, sitting in the car with Cove, hands intertwined, the idea feels more like a dream than your living, breathing reality. But the car trudges along, movements never once faltering for your thoughts.

You’d be on your own soon–a stray left for dead. You’d be nowhere near Sunset Bird anymore.

Lost in thought, it takes you more than a moment to grow cognizant of your surroundings. The scenery has shifted, the sky around you having faded to a pale purple hue. The change in atmosphere is instant. High-rise buildings litter the skyline; the shopping districts, no longer limited to a single street, bustle with activity.

It feels, beyond anything else, unfamiliar.

Isolating.

Realistically, you are far from alone. Derek, having gotten his scholarship, lives right down the hall. Your parents and sister are always a call away, and your friends have never failed to remind you of their presence. And Cove, despite being far from technologically adept, is still a better texter than most–and a relatively consistent one at that.

These thoughts, at least, are reassuring.

But the fear remains–and all you can do is try and work alongside it.

You turn to Cove. The window has been rolled down; you feel the cool evening breeze against your skin, fresh and foreign all at once. His hands are running mindlessly through his hair, detangling the inevitable wind-induced knots. Your eyes flit down to his fingers drumming against the steering wheel, then lower down to his scar, the pale white mark running gently down his forearm.

Sitting there, so unaware of himself, sunset illuminating soft features–Cove is beautiful, in every possible way.

You smile, content.

*

The hours pass, and before you know it, you find yourself on campus for the first time.

You tap the keycard to your door, and it opens with a soft click. The two of you are met with the sight of the dorm, the yellow-tinted wood somehow even less impressive than the photos you’d seen online. Barren walls, popcorn ceilings, worn-down linoleum from decades past. Sparsely decorated as it may be, the room puts you at ease.

You let Cove move past you to enter. “What a joy.” You scoff at the drawl in his voice. “Where’d you say your roommate’s from?” he asks, his shoulders nudging the door wider. His set of boxes is significantly larger than yours, and he looks smaller than ever with the stack cradled against his chest.

“Florida,” you answer, following his footsteps.

“Oh.” He sets the cardboard down on the ground, the impact resounding with a solid thump. “I hope they won’t mind the mess we’re about to make.”

That draws a laugh out of you; you think back to all the times you’ve stepped into his room, only to find it a complete bird’s nest. “They’re not moving in until tomorrow.” Another thump resounds as you drop your own load. “We have time to clean. But don’t mess things up too bad, please. I’d like a good first impression.”

“No promises.”

You roll your eyes, and, cracking open the first box, begin the arduous process of unpacking.

*

“Well,” Cove says finally, brushing dust away from his hands. “I think that was the last of your stuff.”

Setting the last of your books in place, you take a moment to revel in your surroundings. Despite his messy tendencies, Cove had done a pretty good job–with your assistance, of course. All your clothes had been folded neatly up in the closet, and your posters were hung all over the walls, like a delicate reminder of home. On the desk sat two small photo frames; one with you and your family, and one with you and Cove.

“I guess so, huh,” you mutter.

There’s a weight in the air around you, and you bow your head.

There’d been too much to discuss. Hell, even now the topic was one you wanted nothing more than to avoid. The ‘what-ifs’ had littered your mind for months now, hanging over you like a constant reminder. And though Cove had tried his best to dispel them, they’d inevitably come back–and with a vengeance. You didn’t know what the future held, nor did you know whether the two of you would last. Uncertainty riddled your mind: what if he grew bored? What if the two of you lost interest? What if, after all your time together, the physical distance became too much?

His hand comes to rest on your shoulder. The gesture is light, gentle–a welcome pressure.

The tension dissipates.

You sigh, lifting your chin up to meet his gaze. There’s a softness in his eyes you’ve come to recognize as sadness. And there’s a warmth behind your own that threatens to grow hot, to liquify and pool before you. You choke back the urge to cry, stifling yourself by clearing your throat. “You’ll text me, won’t you?”

He chuckles softly at that, thumb stroking circles into your skin. “Of course. I’ll call you so often you’ll grow sick of me.”

“I’m counting on it, Cove.”

You give him one last hug, inhaling his scent and pressing your cheek to his chest. He smells like Sunset Bird, a mixture of the ocean and the beach and all the pleasantries that come along with it. His pulse, slow and steady, beats in your ear.

Devoting the moment to memory, you angle your head to plant a peck on his cheek. “Thanks for helping me move in.”

He grins at you. “Of course.” The expression sparks something strange in you, something equal parts melancholy and equal parts pride. You so badly want him to stay–you want to reach out, pull him down into the bed and sit right atop him so he might never escape your grasp.

“I love you,” you whisper, part-plea and part-farewell; you see the pain in Cove’s eyes. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone, alright?”

He lets out a breathy laugh and, shaking his head, shoots you a smile. "I love you too."

You smile, and breathe him in just once more. Then, with one last teary kiss, you let go, and wish him a safe journey home.

You’re on your own now–

But you know he’s with you, always.

*

A/N: Another self-indulgent piece as always, because I've fallen in love with one Cove Holden. My freshman year of college starts soon, and I guess my worries culminated in this piece. Thanks for reading, though–I hope this was alright! Any reblogs or likes are appreciated!!

[bluewhale52]

Little Black Book: Your Kindred Spirit

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart. Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Jeon Jungkook, your kindred spirit.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED.

Genre: nonidol!au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefits, a bit of angst

WC: 6.1k (my largest so far! 😱)

Warning: talk about loneliness, oral sex by the pool, fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex, multiple orgasm, edging, sex on a chair, Herman Miller chair kink because Hybe got them chairs for their employees while I’m sitting on one from Ikea

A/N : trying some character development this time round, especially since I’m running out of ideas of ways OC can have hot sexy times with her men (3 more to go!). I like being able to explore OC’s backstory and personality more here, and I hope you as readers feel a bit more intimate too with the characters in this LBB universe. As always, likes, reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Enjoy 💜

Series Masterlist: Little Black Book

You got off the plane, still annoyed. Five hours earlier, you had arrived in your office in Seoul, only to be ceremoniously sent off  to Jeju with the order of getting Jeon Jungkook to sign a bunch of papers as well as not returning to Seoul until Monday. You protested, only to have Seokjin, your new unbearable boss, told you that you had not taken any days off in two years and he’d be damned if those days were going to be borne by the firm again.

“It’s all paid for. Flights and hotel. Now go, I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the week.” Seokjin ordered as he pushed you into the elevator. ” But call me on Saturday, hmm?” He added in a whisper. You rolled your eyes as the doors closed.

Five hours later, you arrived in Jeju, and at the first intake of fresh air, you inwardly thanked Seokjin for forcing you to go on a vacation. Maybe, after you were all done with the Jeon Jungkook business, you’d go shopping and get yourself a new lingerie set for your Saturday night fun with Seokjin, as a thank you. MAYBE.

As you entered the arrival hall, you were surprised to find a man in full chauffeur uniform holding up your name. You bowed to him, and he swiftly took your luggage.

“Mr Jeon sent me to pick you up.” He simply stated. “He’s waiting for you at his suite.” You nodded and followed him.

The suite turned out to be a mega luxurious penthouse by the beach. Spacious, modern, floor to ceiling windows with that breathtaking view, and…. an infinity pool on the balcony? You had to stop yourself from gawking too much.

You were asked to wait by the living room as the driver went to the pool and patiently waited for Jungkook to finish his lap before informing him of your arrival. The driver then made his way back to you, to inform you that he would check you in at the hotel. He then bowed and quietly left. You tilted your head and wondered how he could even know which hotel your firm had booked for you, but you let it go- the rich definitely had their own ways.

You turned to find Jungkook getting out of the water, and you swallowed, hard. The many times you had met him, he had always worn something baggy. Never in a hundred years you would have thought that THAT body was hidden underneath all those loose clothing. Thick shoulders, even thicker pecs, and washboard abs. Then those thighs- dear God- sculpted and oh so visible with his wet boardshorts splattered tightly on his skin.

You cleared your throat, then bowed to him. Get a grip, he’s your client, you reminded yourself. “Good afternoon, Jungkook-ssi.”

He bowed back in return. “Hi __________ -ssi.” He sounded shy. “Hope your flight was good?”

“Smooth flight.” As smooth as that skin across your chest. “I’m here for you to sign the papers?”

You sat yourself down by the coffee table and took out a folder. “I’m sure Seokjin-ssi has told you about the settlement? We just need you to sign here, here and here and I’ll send them back to the office to get everything going.”

You went into your work-mode immediately. It was safe, and you knew what you were doing. You in work-mode would not be thirsting over your own client. Jungkook lingered by the door however, water still dripping from his gorgeous body.

“Um, do you need me to get you a towel?” You asked gingerly. Jungkook broke into a small smile and shook his head.

“Sorry, I was distracted.” He went off to grab a towel himself, and you breathed a sigh of relief when he came back, his upper body covered by the terry cloth. “Where do I sign?”

You directed Jungkook, explaining along the way the process of the settlement, what he should expect and what your firm would continue doing on his behalf.

“As agreed, we will not disclose the settlement amount to the media or the public, but this large sum should set off some gossip in the industry, so you’d be rest assured anyone would think twice before mooching off your AI software again.” You grabbed the corner of Jungkook’s towel and dabbed at some dollops of water on the coffee table, worried they could stain the legal documents.

“Ah, sorry, I guess my hair is still wet.” Jungkook said sheepishly. You plastered a professional smile, and resisted tucking his curly hair behind his ear.

“OK, all done, just give me a minute to scan and email these back to the office.”

You moved to scan the documents with your phone and promptly sent them to Seokjin. Jungkook left your side and you heard a splash. Jungkook was back in the pool, but he stayed by the side, head resting on his folded hands, watching you.

You gave him another forced smile. “I’m just waiting for Seokjin-ssi to confirm everything is good. Then I’ll be going.”

“Eager to start your vacation?”  He pushed his hair back off his forehead, and laughed at your reaction. “Seokjin told me you would stay here for a few days before going back to Seoul.”

“Ah yes, I was forced to go on holiday.”

“Good thing I asked for you to come here then.” You saw the corner of his mouth lifted into what you thought was a very sexy smirk.

“You asked for me?” Your phone vibrated indicating an incoming email, tearing your gaze from Jungkook and denying him the chance to answer. The email was from Seokjin, who simply replied with a thumbs up emoji. “Ah, I’ve got confirmation all is good. So I’ll get going now then.”

“Stay.”

You froze. “Excuse me?”

Jungkook still had his eyes firmly on you. The shyness you saw earlier was all gone. “Your holiday has officially started. Have a swim with me.”

You laughed out loud at his request. “I don’t have my swimsuit with me, and your driver has taken my suitcase to the hotel.”

“So?” Jungkook smirked.

“Jungkook-ssi, I’m not going to swim with you in my underwear.” You know you needed to leave, but the temptation was getting too large to ignore.

“Just Jungkook, please.” He licked his lips. “And, you don’t need any attire to swim here. It’s very private.”

“Jungkook-ssi, are you trying to see me naked?”

“And if I am?”

You looked at your phone again. No follow up emails, no calls, no messages. Work had stopped for you. However, Jungkook was your client, a very valuable one at that. This couldn’t be good. But as he said, your vacation had started. Well, you only live once, you told yourself.

“If I’m swimming naked, so are you. It’s only fair.”

Jungkook shuffled in the water. Then his board shorts landed with a loud splat at the poolside. “It’s only fair.”

An hour or so later, you sighed as you spotted tints of orange streaking across the sky. You had to give it to Jungkook for this place- from where you were sitting at the pool, you got a mesmerising view of the sun setting, blood orange angry against the cool blue of the horizon. What a sight.

You sighed again, as Jungkook’s tongue glided against your folds. HIs tongue felt so smooth against your throbbing sex, and a flick of his tongue released a deep moan from you. You threw your head back, your body leaning back supported by your elbows, and you spread your legs even wider for him.

The flicking of his tongue went faster, no doubt encouraged by your moans and the start of your thighs shaking. You gasped for air as your climax was nearing. One of your hands shot out and grabbed Jungkook by his hair, pressing his head firmer against your sex as you rode his mouth. His big doe eyes opened up and met yours immediately, and you cursed- how could anyone who looked so innocent could be so sinful?

You ground your core harder against his mouth, and his tongue went to overdrive, determined to have you come before the sun set. He opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, the pink tip flicking your nub determinedly, his eyes never leaving yours. Your tightened core finally snapped, and screaming his name, you came, just as the sun set at Jeju Island. What a sight.

~~~

You raised an eyebrow when Jungkook ordered another bowl of ramen. It had been a couple of months since your Jeju fling, and you were surprised when Jungkook suddenly turned up at your office, inviting you out to dinner. Your first instinct was to reject him- you did not like fraternising with clients- but his big doe eyes did you in.

“So,” you cleared your throat, “how long have you been back in Seoul?”

Jungkook slurped his noodles. “A couple of days.”

“Oh, are you here for work?”

He shook his head. “I was bored in Jeju.”

“Well, I hope you’ll get to have some fun here.”

He nodded again, eyes still downcast, focused on his bowl. You let silence sit between you; he seemed to still be very hungry, and you did not want to interrupt him eating. He stole glances at you timidly, as if he had something to say but did not have the bravery to say it out loud.

It amazed you how Jungkook could have such a duality. The person in front of you was painfully shy, nothing like the flirtatious sex god that left you trembling throughout your vacation in Jeju. You watched him eat, and his demeanour suddenly threw you back to your university days, when you isolated and buried yourself in books, sacrificing social life for those top graduating spots in law school. You recognised loneliness, having gone through it yourself. Your heart softened even further for Jungkook. When he finally finished his meal, he wiped his mouth and smiled apologetically at you.

“You must be busy,” he said, mistaking your quietness for impatience, “I’m sorry I disturbed you and forced you to accompany me here.”

You shook your head. “I should be thanking you for getting me out of the office. I need to stop being such a workaholic. Probably because I don’t have much of a social life, I just bury myself in work.” You offered an opening to Jungkook to open up.

“I guess we’re in the same boat.” He admitted sheepishly. “It’s not that I don’t have friends, I just… have some trust issue.”

“I would be too if I were in your shoes.” You knew enough of his history from handling his settlement case. He made it big at such a young age and the media elevated him to be the next big tech superstar, which only sent sharks sniffing around him. The case you had helped Seokjin handle, the one that sent you to Jeju to conclude it, involved names of people Jungkook thought he could trust.

“What do you do for fun?” He asked.

“Uh well… I don’t have many hobbies, really.” You were a bit thrown aback by his question, “Some weekends I just pick a random line on the subway and ride it to the end and back. If I see something interesting, I stop and check it out. It’s a habit from law school, it helps me de-stress.”

“That sounds really interesting. Do you do that by yourself? Or with friends?”

“Most of the time I go by myself. I like being alone. I mean, five days out of a week I have to continually talk to and interact with people. My subway time is my time for myself, I guess.”

He nodded at your answer. “I understand what you mean. I like being alone too, especially after big meetings and promotional stuff.”

You smiled at him. “Sounds like we’re pretty similar.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “do you play games?”

“Computer games? Not really, no.” You laughed as Jungkook scrunched his nose lightly. “Just Maple Story, I guess.”

“Do you want to go to the arcade with me? There’s one just around the block.” He blurted it out quickly, as if he had been waiting for the perfect time to ask. You cleared your throat. You were happy enough to accompany him for dinner, sometimes clients expected that, but going to the arcade? It felt very personal.

“Jungkook-ssi,” you started.

“Just Jungkook, please.” He reminded you.

You took a deep breath. “Jungkook, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think I can hang out with you, like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I just thought, you know, we had fun and got along well in Jeju, so…” He shrugged his shoulder and looked down at his hands under the table.

“Well, we agreed what happened in Jeju stays there. And if you want to do it again, I’m for it, but we’ll have to lay down some ground rules.”

His brows furrowed. “I don’t want sex.” He sounded insulted. “I just want… your company. Not in that way. Just, you know, spend time together. With you. Because, I just think we’ll get along well. That’s all.”

You blinked at his confession, and you raked your brain to come up with a response that would not insult him any further. However before you could think of anything, he asked, “Are you not allowed to date your client?”

“Um, is the arcade supposed to be a date?”

“It could be if you want it.”

You rubbed your neck. This was going worse than you had thought. “I’m allowed to date whoever I want. I just… don’t do dating or relationships.”

“Because you’re a workaholic?”

That went straight to your heart. “Maybe,” you answered slowly, “though I think it’s more because I’m selfish. I like my free time for myself. I like not having to compromise on anything. I like making decisions by myself without having to worry about the other person’s feelings.”

“Don’t you get lonely?”

“I do sometimes, but I like being alone so loneliness is sometimes welcome.”

“And when it’s not?” He leaned forward.

“I call some…. friends.” You blushed a little. “And we spend time together, and that’s good enough for me.”

You inhaled deeply. It was odd saying it out loud, and you felt a little twang in your chest. You were reminded of the times when you returned to your empty, dark apartment after your rendezvous with one of your ‘friends’ from your little black book. Most times you were just happy to go to sleep or do whatever else it was you did at home, but there were the rare times when you wish your living room was not so sparse or your bed so cold. You had to admit it to yourself, you did feel lonely.

“Can… can I be your friend?” Jungkook asked, his voice so soft you struggled to hear it. “I do like spending time with you, and I trust you. And we had fun. And I’m not expecting Jeju all over again, it’s just… I don’t know, I just trust you.”

Your heart ached for him. He sounded so lost and so small. Perhaps two lonely people could find some comfort in each other.

“I’d love to be your friend, Jungkook.” You answered, and he gave you a relief smile in return. “Now, I need to clarify my definition of friends, just so we’re clear from the start.”

~~~

You realised Jungkook had liked too much your definition of ‘friends’, and although you had warned him repeatedly that there would be no feelings involved and no sleep overs, you suspected he had developed a crush on you. When he was teaching you to play League of Legends, he liked you sitting on his lap. When you were cooking ramen for him, he liked to stand behind you,rubbing the hem of your top. When you were getting dressed after your session with him, he would, without fail, tell you how much he liked the particular office wear you had on, which made you think that the man very likely had a business suit kink. You regularly reminded him- and yourself- that this arrangement was strictly of no strings attached, but you had to admit, it was nice to have him do all those things to you.

You also realised that Mondays were good to spend with Jungkook. The time spent with him not only chased away your Monday rage and put you in a good mood for the rest of the week. Especially when his chiseled chest was pressed tightly against your back, and his hips snapping wildly behind you, so determined to have your moans and wails travel through your apartment walls to your neighbours’. You threw your head back against his shoulder, and his hand snaked down to rub your clit as his mouth descended on your neck.

“Come on, cum for me again, pretty girl.”

You gasped for air at his hoarse voice, and you closed your eyes tightly as he pulled your second orgasm out of you, keeping his pace fast and steady as you rode it out. You panted heavily as you came down, your back felt slick with sweat against his chest. He pulled out and let you collapse onto your bed, the pure linen sheet felt so good and cool against your heated skin.

Jungkook gingerly flipped you over so you lay on your back. Caging you with his thick thighs, he leaned down and suckled on your tits, moaning against them as your fingers weaved themselves between his silky locks. His mouth left your breasts, and he straightened himself up while grabbing your ankles up and resting your legs on his chest. You shook your head.

“Kook, give me a minute.”

He chuckled. “Did I tire you out already? I remember you having better stamina than this in Jeju.”

“I was on vacation.” You hissed between your teeth.

He grabbed his cock and pushed it in you again. You arched your back when his swollen head penetrated you. “Just enjoy it, then. I’ll do all the work.” He winked. “Two more, pretty girl.”

Damned him and his competitive streak. He had sheepishly asked you if perhaps he could make you cum four times, to break his record in Jeju of three in one night. You were too excited to agree, but you were paying the price now- your whole body felt too sensitive. You wondered if you could wake up for work the next day.

He soon bottomed out in you, and he started to slowly pump himself in your hole, allowing you to recover before he sent you falling over the cliff again. He kissed your ankle, trailing his sinful mouth down towards your calf. You moaned at the sensation, and he, sensing you were more relaxed, picked up his rhythm .

You hands shot up above you to grab the edge of your bed, holding on for dear life when he began to fuck you faster. All you could hear now was the smacking of his skin against yours, and his low guttural groans when you clenched yourself around his cock. He held onto your ankles tightly, and his eyes watched your breasts bouncing in time with the movement of his hips.

“So good, feel so good, Kook.” You breathed out.

“Yeah?” He licked his lips. He pulled out until only his head was nestled in you, and he smirked as your hips writhed, wanting his length back in you. He slammed himself back in you, making you shout in pleasure.

“You like that, pretty girl?” He repeated the movement, and you screamed his name. He went a bit faster, encouraged by the slick that continued to lubricate his cock, and the tightening of your pussy walls every time he slammed into you. He suddenly leaned down towards you, bringing your legs with him, and you moaned loudly at the new depth his cock was reaching in you.

“You OK?” He asked, when he saw your face scrunching up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you hissed, “it’s just so deep. Ah, Kook, fuck me hard, I’m close.”

Jungkook was only too happy to oblige. Pounding his cock into you almost animalistically, he sucked on your ear, knowing it was your extremely sensitive spot. Your legs were soon flailing around his shoulders, and your body jerked and shuddered as your third orgasm hit you like a truck. He continued fucking you through it, but you felt his hips stuttering and he immediately pulled himself out of you.

“Fuck, I almost came.” He panted, but his finger immediately zeroed in on your clit, rubbing little circles on it, prolonging your orgasm. You squirmed under his hand, whimpering as your sex pulsated against nothing. When over-sensitivity came, you weakly pushed his hand away.

“Water.” You requested weakly.

Jungkook kissed your tummy before getting up. “Don’t fall asleep, we still have one more.”

You grabbed a pillow and half heartedly threw it at him. He caught it easily and giggled as he made his way to your kitchen. You lay back on your bed, trying to still your trembling body. It was good to be friends with Jungkook.

~~~

Jungkook’s place in Seoul was a far cry from his opulent penthouse in Jeju. The postal code was prestigious, but the apartment was modest, and in your opinion, more representative of Jungkook. He had entrusted you with the entry code to his door, so you made your way in straight from work after a particularly hellish Monday. You found him in his office slash gaming room, and you squealed when you saw him by his desk.

“You got a Herman Miller office chair?” You slid your hands over the chair, resisting the urge to hug it. “Do you know how much I want a Herman Miller chair? I sit on my ass eight hours a day, Jungkook! This baby would cure my sore back.”

Jungkook looked at you amusingly while you oohed and aahed over the chair he was sitting on. “Do you want to sit here?”

“No, no, no!” You stopped him from getting up. “I can’t. I told myself I would only sit on a Herman Miller office hair if it was mine and only mine.” You smacked his shoulder when he started laughing. “It’s my fantasy, OK! Yeah, my fantasy is to have this in my office.” You rubbed the back of the chair lovingly.

“Why don’t you just get one?”

“Jungkook, it’s $1,000 at least. I’m not spending that kind of money.”

“Well, get your boss to get it for you.”

You guffawed. “He complained about how much we spent on coffee pods, I’m sure he’d buy me a Herman Miller chair.”

“Well,” he rubbed his chin, “I can buy it for you.”

“Jungkook, as much as I want to say yes, I’m going to say no, because one, I wouldn’t even know how to report it to HR, and two, I can’t make you spend that much money for me!”

“Well we’re friends, aren’t we? Can’t I buy a gift for my friend?” Jungkook was spinning in his chair, wiggling his eyebrows. “Let me buy it for you. Just say it’s a gift from an anonymous client?”

“You’re ridiculous.” You grabbed the arms of the chairs to stop him spinning.

“And you’re hot.” He blurted out, and immediately blushed. You felt heat rising to your cheeks too. Shy guy was slowly making way to flirty sex god.

“It’s just a basic blouse and a skirt.”

He cupped your ass. “Yeah, but this skirt really makes your ass look amazing.” He moved his hands to your chest. “And your breasts look so tempting.”

You bit your lower lip as he massaged your tits and let out a shriek when you heard fabric tearing. Sex god Jungkook arrived, and he had just ripped your blouse.

“Jungkook! That blouse cost-”

You lost your voice as Jungkook pushed the cups of your bra down roughly to gain access to your nipples. You mewled when his lips closed in on one of your perky nubs, while his fingers tugged the other.  Losing your footing, you fell forward, and his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you on top of him.

“I’ll buy you another one.” He released your nipples and helped you hike your skirt so you could straddle him.

“Damn it.” You said breathlessly. You felt your juices soaking your panties, and more leaked out when your sex rested atop his hardening member. “How many times are you going to make me cum tonight?”

He hummed against your breasts as his hands roamed over your stocking-covered legs. He kissed and licked your breasts, before enveloping your nipple back in his mouth. You arched your back, pressing your chest closer to him.

“Maybe just once,” he said between sucks, big doe eyes looking up to you, “but I promise it’s going to be a good one.”

Your body went rigid when his large hand cupped you, his finger sliding along the slit over your pantyhose and underwear. His mouth went back to attacking your breasts, and you could do nothing but surrender to his ministrations. Very quickly, he made you a breathless mess on his lap. He chuckled at your expression, and his hands sneaked up underneath your skirt, looking for the waistband of your pantyhose. He tugged at it harshly, and before you knew it, he had torn yet another piece of your clothing.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you chastised him. “For fu-”

“I’ll take you shopping. Just relax now.” He cut you off by pulling your panties aside so he could insert a finger in. You gasped at the intrusion, and your inner walls immediately clenched around his digit. His mouth left your breasts and he was watching you. You returned his stare, your eyes focused on his face while you enjoyed the way his finger was gliding in and out. Your eyes fluttered when he inserted a second one. You grabbed onto his shoulders, and his free hand guided you to move up a little, simply so he could pump his fingers faster and harder.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He pushed a third finger in and you squealed. “Look at me, pretty girl.”

You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, to look at his face. How could someone looking so sweet and innocent could be pulling out moans and screams so easily. Your pussy felt deliciously stretched and he was drawing your orgasm out quickly. Your walls were pulsating erratically around his fingers, and suddenly it felt empty, the orgasm you were chasing disappeared instantly.

“Jungkook, what the-”

He smirked as he looked at his soaked fingers. You tilted your head as your heart beats returned to normal. “Are you trying to edge me?”

He laughed when you smacked his shoulder. “Hold on.” He rolled you both to a set of drawers by his desk. He pulled out a condom, placed the packet between his teeth, then shuffled to pull his sweats down. You swallowed when his cock- hard, angry and red- sprung free. He ripped the foil to get the condom out and rolled it down his dick. Your pussy was clenching hungrily, eager to take in his member.

Jungkook’s hands returned to your skirt, bunching it up around your waist. He smiled at your ripped pantyhose, then with one hand, he tugged your panties aside while his other hand held his cock. You lowered yourself onto him, you kept sinking down on him, letting out a satisfied moan as he filled you in so fully. Your torn blouse was agape, your bra pushed down to reveal your nipples, and that was where his eyes were focused on as you started to ride him, swirling your hips as you went up and down on his cock. You rode him with all your might, eager to chase and get your orgasm before he could stop you. Your clit was rubbing against his lower abdomen, and your body was heated once again. Your pace quickened, your breaths became more shallow, and you were getting close, so close.

However, Jungkook’s hands grabbed your hips and held you above his lap, snapping you out of your near-delirium. He blew at the sweat that had broken out in the valley of your breasts.

“Not yet, pretty girl.” He cooed, and you whined in protest as he pulled out.

He directed you to turn your body around, so that your back was to his chest now, and he pushed his cock into you again. He held your body down, not allowing you to move, making your pussy cockwarming him. He rolled the chair, positioning it just in front of the set of computer monitors. All the screens were black, and you could clearly see your reflections on them. He helped you shift your legs to make you more comfortable while also keeping them spread as wide as possible.

He kissed your shoulder and your neck, while his hips started to move, slowly pumping his cock in and out of you. His strong hands were still holding you motionless, and you gripped the arms of the chair, content to surrender your body to him. His cock moved faster, and your body soon tensed again. Sensing your orgasm nearing, he slammed his cock up to bury it in you. You writhed, silently begging him to move, but he kept you still, away from your climax.

“Fuck, Jungkook, please.” You felt like you wanted to cry.

“No, not yet. I don’t want this to be over so soon.” He sounded like he wanted to cry too. “If I let you cum, will you stay the night?”

You elbowed him weakly. “You shouldn’t blackmail an attorney, Jungkook-ah.”

His chest rumbled against your back as he laughed. “You always cum and leave.”

You wriggled your hips and he moaned. “Let me cum now and I’ll stay for a bit.”

That seemed to be good enough for him. He kissed your shoulder before wrapping his hands around your body tight, pressing you against his chest, as he pistoned his cock fast and hard. The movements took your breath away, your head lolled against his as you both watched yourselves on the dark computer screens. Needing to feel more of him, your hand released the arm of the chair and to reach the back of his neck. He kissed the inside of your upper arm, which made you squeal and clench around him further. He cursed at the discovery of a new erogenous zone on you, and he nipped and licked at your skin as his cock continued to pound you.

You felt your orgasm nearing, and your free hand moved down to rub your clit. One of his hands moved downwards too, pulling the hood back to give you full access to your sensitive spot.

“Rub it good, pretty girl, while my cock ruins your pussy.” He whispered gruffly in your ear. You mewled at his dirty talk, and your finger started to move eratically, certain he would not deny your climax this time. You pressed on your clit and rubbed it hard, causing your pussy walls to tighten around his shaft. You closed your eyes when the edge was finally within reach, your body shook and your hand faltered. Jungkook pushed it away to rub your clit himself while you were finally coming, screaming his name. You felt as if you were drowning in pleasure, you gasped for air and you felt a drop of tear escape down your cheek.  

Jungkook’s grip on your body became tighter, you were sure he was going to leave marks, which you normally chastised your lovers for, but this time you could barely even care. He slammed his cock into you one last time when your orgasm was ending, emptying himself into the rubber.

You both sat on the chair, recovering from the one mind blowing orgasm. Your pants made way to soft breathing. Your ripped blouse felt sticky from the sweat, and you winced as you tried to straighten your legs while he was still inside you. Content of not moving any further, you leaned back against his hard chest, and you let him hug you and nuzzle your hair. You would stay a little while, you decided, as promised. He was worth spending a bit more time with.

“This chair is worth every cent,” Jungkook broke the silence, “it didn’t even creak once.”

You burst out laughing, and you ended up laughing so much that your stomach hurt.

~~~

Today

“Jeon Jungkook!”  You hiss into the phone. “I am going to kill you.”

You groan as he laughs at the other end. You look at the $2000 dollar chair with a big red bow in your office. You have shooed everyone away from your office, including Seokjin who complained that he should get one too since he was the one who got THAT big settlement for that ‘ungrateful brat’.

“You need to get an even better chair for Seokjin, you know. Or we will never hear the end of his whining.”

“He’s treated me to a few meals. I guess it’s only fair I pay him back.”

You make sure your office door is closed before you move to the chair to sniff it. It smells new and promising- you know the moment you sit on it, you will never have a backache ever again, your days will be brighter and you will rise up to the top. Herman Miller will unlock all your potentials.

“Sit on it and take a selca,” Jungkook suggests, “and send it to your boyfriend.”

“Why do I need to show him?” You protest, but you untie the red bow and sit on the chair anyway.

“So you know,” he clears his throat, “you guys can do fun stuff on it.” He drawls as his shyness takes over. You feel your cheeks heated too at the memory.

“Hey,” his voice takes a serious turn and you straighten up, “I don’t think I ever thank you.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I think I’m the one who should thank you? For this amazing chair?”

“I want to thank you for being my friend,” his voice is so soft, but you can hear his emotions clearly, “it means a lot to me.”

You press your fingers to your lips, holding back a threatening sob. “Jungkook, it means a lot to me too that you’re my friend. And please don’t start crying; if you cry, I will cry.”

Jungkook lets out a gentle laugh. “If you cry, I’ll cry, so you don’t start too.”

“We are truly hopeless. But Jungkook, is this what the chair is for? Because you don’t need to-“

“No, no,” he cuts in, “it’s a just-because present. You’ve been going on and on about the chair since... you know when, and I don’t know, when I saw the latest model I just wanted to get it for you.”

“You are too generous, you know that? Don’t let anyone take advantage of your generosity.”

He laughs again. “You’re generous too. You always make time for me, even now when you don’t have to anymore.”

“We’re kindred spirits, aren’t we? Of course I’ll always make time for you. Even my boyfriend makes time for you!” You glance at the clock in your office. “Isn’t it almost time for your pilates class?”

“Yes, your man is signalling me to hang up now.” Jungkook chuckles. “Thank you for letting me be his friend too. He’s been great for my state of mind. All the pilates and the bonsai classes he lets me tag along, I’m feeling much happier these days.”

You hum as you settle more comfortably in your new chair. “I’m happy to hear that, and it means a lot to me you both get along so well. Hey, let’s do dinner this weekend? Let’s crash Seokjin’s place and make him cook for us. It’s been a while since the four of us hung out together.”

“Sounds like a plan. I have to go now, don’t forget to send that selca!”

You giggle as he hangs up. You spin once in the chair, your body and spirit feels a million times better already. You raise your phone up and move it around to get the best angle. Once you have gotten a picture you are happy with, you send it off to your boyfriend.

You [19:02] : I got a present! Come over after your class and let’s take a ride on it 😉 You [19:02] : PS: Don’t change. I like you all sweaty 😋

You smile smugly at your naughty messages, then you realise something. You immediately text Jungkook.

You [19:03] : Kook- is there a warranty on the chair? Just in case we break it.

Published 11042021

[frostsinth]

Deals with Demons - Pt. 5

Prologue | Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |  MasterList

What part is this? Part 5? I’m so lost. I forgot which part I was on. Still not entirely convinced I counted them right.

A fun little continuation with a bit of magic play and hopefully revealing dialogue. A little NSFW at the end. As always, thank you for your continued support, and please comment and reblog! I need it for food as I can no longer afford any. All the best!

“Gods, I hate this place.” I growled.

Standing on the balcony, looking down at the courtyard below, each tainted memory of my life here filtered back up to my consciousness. My days as an initiate, forced to kneel on the hard stones under the hot sun for hours on end for the sake of “devotion” to the Gods. I still had the scars on my shoulders from the burns. Being made to polish the stones with nothing but a rough rag until my knuckles bled as punishment for not seeming enthusiastic enough at prayer. How many times had I been turned out of the meal hall for not appreciating what I had been given? How many nights had I spent shivering in the flowerbed, unable to feel my fingers or toes for not being able to recite psalms perfectly?

Now, a few of the Sisters hustled quickly back and forth across the courtyard below. Perhaps oblivious to my watchful eye, but still seeming terrified. I turned my head slightly as I sensed Abhilash shifting in the shadows of the doorway behind me. He leaned against the stone frame, crossing his arms over his chest. Watching me as I watched the Sisters below.

I turned my attention back to them, and saw another small group skittering towards the garden, looking about nervously. They still wore their habits; white dresses that covered them from ankle to wrist, and a head scarf wound about their hair and necks. I saw a few pulling at the fabric uncomfortably, and felt anger bubbling in my stomach again.

I raised one palm, imagining in my mind’s eye an entirely different garment. One that was not rough and scratchy, but instead soft and breathable. I imagined bare arms and ankles, and hair spilling free. I imagined it to be adjustable; to be worn in multiple ways instead of one singular, un-encompassing, unflattering shape.

The women below squealed and jumped in surprise, dropping anything in their hands as their clothing shifted on their bodies. I reached out with my magic, feeling and sensing the rest throughout the Abbey. I heard a few distant shouts that echoed my success throughout the halls.

Within seconds, the Sisters all donned a new uniform; soft fabric that wrapped about their bodies. I found I could sense the comfort of each if I reached enough, and willed the magic to loosen or tighten the cloth appropriately. Many of the Sisters had a preference for pants, though some preferred to retain their long skirts. Others had a blend of the two. I draped long, billowy scarves around their shoulders which could be worn to flow behind them as they moved or pulled up to loosely cover their heads should they so wish.

Then I closed my eyes, and focused my magic on the darkness filling my vision. I imagined that pristine white bleeding away. Replaced by black. Like ink spilled over their clothes and slowly spreading, staining the fabric. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the Sisters in the courtyard staring down at their bodies with wide eyes as the image in my mind played out over the clothing on their bodies. The courtyard cobblestones were splattered with the things they had been holding. Baskets upturned, food and laundry spilling out. I smirked at the image of confusion and dishevelment.

They looked about anxiously, then a hush fell over them as one by one they looked up and spotted me on the balcony. I slowly brushed my raised hand through the air, and turned my attention to the Abbey itself. I remembered the blood dripping down my knuckles and shoulders, splattering onto the cobblestones. I remembered being made to clean it. A futile effort, for each movement simply spilled more. I reached out again, feeling those stones across the entirety of the Abbey. Remembering the way they felt beneath my hands, knees, and feet. Sensing every single one. Then I bled upon them again; and as I watched, a pool of red clay formed in the center of the courtyard. It began to spread, slowly at first, then faster, like a wave of water spreading across the stones. The Sisters backed away at first as it swept towards them, jumping up fearfully as it reached beneath their feet. I watched the color follow the cobblestone path, snaking under the covered hallway. Felt it slip through the halls and stain each stone.

I looked at the light grey stones of the walls, and remembered staring at them for hours upon hours. Locked in my room, or forced to face one for my disobedience. I remembered every speck and molecule, every crack and crevice. I reached out my consciousness again, feeling the stone against my palms. And I imagined it warping. Changing. Opening up the dark hidden alcoves of the Abbey. I felt my magic burning inside me, filling me to the brim and searing like molten lava beneath my skin. Threatening to burst out of me as if I were an erupting volcano. But I controlled it. Cooled it beneath my concentration. And sensed the buildings around me changing.

The rock shifted and rumbled. The whole Abbey seemed to quake as it moved. Gone were the smooth edges and flat walls. Gone were the tiny windows and secret rooms and narrow halls. I spread the rock wide, shattering and breaking open new windows. Spreading the hallways wider, stretching the ceilings higher. Sharp and pointed railings rather than rounded and smooth. Archways where there were squares, pointed roofs where there was round. Sharp, gnarled points formed along the top edges of the buildings, shaped and carved into beautiful accents. Buttresses and ribbed vaults, clustered columns and abulatories. Until the once simple and dull little Abbey was an absolute breathtaking marvel to behold.

My anger stained the walls, just as my blood had stained the cobblestones. The light grey stoned darkened to ash with patches of dark clay accents. The dusty red roof tiles darkened as well, becoming more polished and crisp like fresh painted lips.

I dropped my hand and looked at my handiwork, leaning against the new stone railing in front of me. Breathing in shallow, subtle little breaths. The dark ash and sand stone walls, the blistering red roof tiles, the dusty dark clay cobblestones. Complete with huge windows, jagged edges, and sharp points. Yes… certainly an improvement. Hardly recognizable at all. Much more befitting for my purposes.

The Sisters turned slowly in place, looking about with wide, awe filled faces. They were hunched, fearful, shocked. And I relished that achievement. Their eyes turned back to me, and I saw many emotions flickering across their faces.

I found Treya among them, and could see her swallow heavily as our eyes met briefly. Then she bowed, first just her head, then more deeply at the waist. The other Sisters saw her, and followed her lead. I smirked, pleased to see how quickly they were learning. And pleased with Treya leading them there.

With a final flickering thought, I cast a sash from Treya’s left shoulder down to her right hip and around her back. She gasped slightly as it fluttered about her, jerking but still keeping her head bowed reverently. Her hand reached up and touched the blood red sash, then I saw her clasp it over her heart and bow a little deeper. Understanding my intent. The other girls looked at her with their mouths slightly ajar. Then dropped a little lower.

When Treya chanced another glance up at me, I nodded my permission, and she slowly rose, speaking softly to her Sisters. They too rose out of their bows, keeping their eyes down, and began to pick up the courtyard. I turned slowly to make my way back inside. I had to wrap my arms about myself to keep them from shaking.

Abhilash reached out as I approached him, steadying me with a large hand on my shoulder when my knees wobbled. His beady eyes studied me, blinking in succession.

“You used too much.”

“You think everything is too much.” I tried to scoff at the notion, waving away his words. 

Instead my legs gave beneath me. The demon caught me before I hit the ground. Tucking his hands under me, he scooped me up into his arms. I lay against him weakly, breathing in his smoky scent. Luckily, we were already out of sight of prying eyes, delving deeper into the newly reformed Abbey. It would belittle my powerful display if any of the Sisters saw me suddenly so helpless.

“I must say, I am impressed, My Queen,” Abhilash told me as he carried me down the long upper hallway, “Most mortals would be consumed and destroyed by the magic you just wielded; especially without proper training.”

I remembered the power that had coursed through my veins. Remembered the feeling of molten magic bubbling just beneath the surface of my skin. I believed him.

“Would you have let me?” I asked, my stomach twisting slightly for fear of his answer.

I didn’t hear his chuckle, but felt it against my consciousness. I closed my eyes, leaning closer to that mental warmth of his presence. Feeling strangely comforted by it.

“No.” He replied simply. “No I would not. I was watching over you, My Queen. Should you have tipped too close to the edge, I would have pulled you back.”

I nodded slightly, and relaxed into his arms. I let my mind open, and felt his own swirling alongside mine. I carefully studied it, feeling it meld in and out of my conscious thoughts. Fleeting flashes of emotions and impressions that I recognized as memories. More formed lines of thoughts. And always, that ever present hunger. Gnawing away inside him. I pressed a question to him, wondering at my own current limited power, testing our connection. I felt his answer, felt his promise. But couldn’t quite put the fleeting sensation into complete words. Still, it felt like the answer I wanted, and my lips curled into a tiny smile.

I was physically quite weak, and as he shouldered open the door to the Inner Sanctum, I barely managed to open my eyes to look about us. The fires that had consumed the wooden pews the night before had died out, leaving only coals and ash behind. The grey particles shifted and tumbled from the piles as the demon’s heavy steps shook the floor. I watched quietly, feeling numb and distant.

Slowly, he brought me up to the warped throne at the top. He sat in it himself, cradling me in his lap. His flames licked about my hands wrapped around his neck, and my head fell back against his shoulder as I tried to turn to look up at him.

“How do I heal?” I asked him out loud, my voice soft and wavering.

He chuckled, and I felt it move in his chest beneath my cheek. “You are not injured, My Queen. Just drained.”

I shook my head. I didn’t like feeling like this. I missed the power, the strength. I leaned heavily against his presence, longing to feel that way again.

“How do I replenish then?”

“You can rest. As long as we are bonded, the magic will return by itself in time.” He explained, and I felt his mouth next to my ear then as he curled around me. “Or, you can take some more.”

“How?”

His essence enveloped mine, wrapping up my consciousness in his internal fires, and I felt the warmth licking at my core. I enjoyed it, my toes curling, my mind melding even more with his. And I felt his hunger again, chewing at the corners of my consciousness. Blowing on the embers of my own desire sitting in the pit of my stomach. I let a deep breath billow out from my lungs, spreading the feeling throughout my body.

“I can feed,” He murmured against my ear, “And you can replenish from me as I do.”

I blinked slowly, and ran my hand down the side of his face. “I am too weak now to be a good meal.” I said bitterly, tracing my thumb under his smaller eye.

Another chuckle, and his tongue darted out, skimming his lips. Turning his head to align our faces and leaning down. 

“No, My Queen. You are tired. Not weak. You are never weak...”

As he pressed his lips against mine, I felt his hunger flare in my own chest. Burning and setting my building desire ablaze. Smoldering in my breast and pulsing beneath my skin like jolts of electricity. It warmed me, and I felt strength returning to my limbs. I curled against him, pressing into his body as his hands wrapped around mine. He ran one large hand up my back, sliding along the silken dress I wore, massaging between my shoulders.

I straightened, pulling my legs in. Feeling emboldened by his kiss, I turned, resting one knee on either side of his thighs on the bench. Straddling him as I settled back to sit on his lap. The position made us level for once, and I pulled out of the kiss to meet his many eyed gaze. His grin spread from ear to bat-like ear, and he hitched my skirts to drag up my thighs. Allowing our hips to touch skin to skin beneath.

My breath shuddered when it passed through my mouth as we brushed together, and he licked at my lips with his long tongue as if to catch its escape. Then he turned, nudging my face to the side and tracing along my jaw to my neck. His teeth nipped at the skin there gently, and I felt one of his hands move to cup my ass and slide me closer to him. Grinding me along his length.

I ran my own hands back along his skull. Playing my fingers through the flames as he buried his face in my neck. His hands worked and massaged me between them, and I felt myself growing hot beneath his touch. He licked and sucked lightly at my neck, and I let my head fall back to expose more to him.

His growl felt good against the skin of my throat, and the vibrations in his chest made me shudder with anticipation. His lust mixed with mine, until I couldn’t tell one from the other. Both burned hot, and filled my chest to bursting. I felt my face flush, felt my core flex and tighten as the ache settled in my loins. I sensed his nose twitching, smelling my arousal. He growled again.

The demon pulled back, catching the back of my skull in the hand that had been at my back and bending me to face him once more. I barely had time to acknowledge the movement before his mouth was pressed back against mine.

The blackness enveloped me almost instantly, and stars spun about the edges of my vision. I lifted up, free and weightless again, floating in this strange space. I felt it pulse around me, spinning and twisting. Filling me with the addictive bliss and euphoria. I relaxed into the essence, and turned, acknowledging the other presence there. I reached out to it, feeling it reaching out to me this time. Like thin wispy threads connecting us. I could feel him drawing from me now, but felt unhindered by it as I recognized the power I had drawn from each time before. I pulled it to me, hungrily taking as much as I could manage. A tickling sensation at the back of my mind gave me pause. An amused warning. I felt a flash of a memory brought before me, and recalled the last time I had drawn out too much of this power.

I gave whatever passed for a sigh in this strange place, and relinquished my feverish grip upon the power source. I felt a familiar chuckle rippling around me, and half turned to try and sort out what I could of the blackness. He seemed to navigate through here. Could use it to draw on my memories and my emotions. He fed on them here, and I could access his stores of power. Why shouldn’t I be able to “move” as he did then? With a little practice, of course. Better than simply floating in blissful euphoria, subject to whatever he felt I deserved. I sensed his amusement again, and his affirmation of my thought process.

But then I felt sinking, and slowly fell back into my body. Like water being poured into a glass. As I returned, I felt myself melting against him, tucking my body into his chest. Curling my arms around his neck. I breathed out a wave of pleasure, and sunk into the last of my physical form. Not nearly as filling as the last few times I had been pulled into that realm. But satisfying for now. I could already feel myself much stronger than before.

“Just a taste,” I felt him croon against my ear, and his tongue lapped at my earlobe, “We’ll save the main course for tonight.”

I smirked, agreeing with him. I reluctantly leaned back, meeting his waiting gaze again. He reached up one big hand, pushing my hair back out of my face. His smaller eyes glanced down to my lips, and the tip of his tongue flicked along the edge of his mouth. I could still feel his desire, his hunger, curling around my own. I enjoyed it for a moment, rubbing my thumb along his jaw, staring deep into the dark abyss of his eyes.

“That’s better.” I murmured, internally stroking the replenished magic in my veins.

And it was. None of my previous weakness lingered. I was grateful for that. I did not like feeling so helpless. He grinned at me, and his large ears twitched slightly as my other hand moved over one. I felt his thoughts tickling at me, but couldn’t quite fathom them as well as my own yet. I wondered if he was the same, or if perhaps experience had allowed him more understanding of my consciousness. He watched me studying him quietly for a long time.

“What’s next, My Queen?” He asked finally.

I brushed my hand over the back of his head, watching the flames shift slightly beneath my touch. “Next, I need an army.”

His grin grew by a few molars. “What sort of army did you have in mind?”

“The devilish kind.”

Abhilash laughed, and leaned in to nip at my chin briefly. “Where did you get such a notion?”

“The Abbey’s library has few tomes on the subject, but those it does speak of subdemons. Minions of evil, I believe it called them.” I told him, then wondered briefly if I had been misinformed and was making a fool of myself. But his excitement lapping at my consciousness made me decide I was not. “I would summon them, to guard the Abbey. To be ready to fight whomever may come calling at my door.” I continued eagerly.

He nodded. “A wise choice, My Queen. They are called grumons, lesser demons of the higher planes of hell.” He explained. “They are not powerful on their own, but in a swarm? Quite formidable.”

I slowly eased back, sliding off his lap. “Are they easy to summon? To control?”

“I can show you how, it is not difficult,” He replied, his hands lingering on me even as I stood before him, “And they are quite loyal to whomever summons them; as long as they are powerful enough.” His grin returned. “Which you certainly are.”

“You’re in my seat.” I told him, crossing my arms over my chest.

He laughed, amused. But rose obediently. Standing face to face with me, I had to crane my neck back to look up at him. I was reminded again just how big the demon was. His broad shoulders were nearly twice my width. Hell, his thigh was almost as large as my torso. His great horns matched the width of his shoulders, and his entire body was finely sculpted muscle that flexed powerfully with each movement. But he stepped lightly to the side, offering my seat to me. I smirked, understanding he did it more from amusement than any true subservience. But that suited me fine. I sat, crossing one leg over the other.

“Are they intelligent?”

Abhilash shrugged, slowly pacing around to stand at my back. His hands reached out, settling on my shoulders. “They can understand an order, and can follow simple tactics.” He said, slowly beginning to work his strong fingers against my muscles. “I wouldn’t make one a general, but they make excellent foot soldiers en masse.”

I leaned my head back against his chest, enjoying the feeling of his hands working on my shoulders. “How long can they stay on this plane?”

“As long as you need them.”

I considered that, turning it over in my head. It seemed a good plan. And would certainly lend credence to the image I was cultivating. I didn’t imagine I would have very long until the first adventurers came knocking at my door.

A thought suddenly occurred to me, and I frowned. I felt Abhilash’s fingers slow as he sensed my shifting focus, but he waited patiently for me to voice it.

“Is this common?” I asked curiously.

“What, My Queen?”

“This. You and me.” I rubbed my fingers over my chin. “I have never heard of a human and demon working together like this before. Do your mortal marks often ask your advice? Take your counsel?”

His answering chuckle rumbled against me. “No, My Queen. Most mortals do not trust my words. Certainly not enough to actively seek my counsel.”

I traced my consciousness around his, working our minds together. “Should I trust you?”

The demon considered that, and I felt his thoughts palpably as he turned them over and over in his mind. Again, I couldn’t quite shape them into words, but I felt confident we were too bonded for him to lie to me now. I would know if he did.

“Most mortals who make a deal with me are desperate.” He began finally. “There is something specific they need, and I am simply a means to that end. Their end will come swiftly, and they know this. A final surge of great power before they pass into the next world.” His hands began massaging my shoulders again. “Others believe themselves above demons; they treat us as slaves or merely weapons to be used and cast aside as the need arises. Try to force us and bind us to their will. They take only the barest minimum, always careful not to strengthen our pact. For they fear allowing me to become to strong, or have any power over them.”

I thought about this, considering my hands in my lap carefully. “And me?”

His thumbs rubbed against my spine. “You… you are different.”

“How so?”

He seemed to be struggling to find the words, and I felt him breathe a soft ‘hmm’ as he searched for them. I let the silence stretch, waiting patiently. Finding I was curious more than afraid.

“You do not fear our bond, but instead embrace it. Our desires are more compatible,” He said, “What you desire and what I enjoy go hand in hand. It allows for a … stronger relationship. A deeper, more intimate one.”

I almost laughed. “I believe you just implied that we are a couple, Abhilash.”

I felt him bending down behind me. “Are we not, My Queen?” He purred in my ear.

His voice sent a shiver down my spine. But I considered his words, even if he had meant them in jest. I had no experience with such things; growing up in an Abbey did not exactly allow much exploration of intimacy and relationships. I ran my tongue over my lips, then shook my head. Now was hardly the time to allow myself to be distracted by such things.

“We are a partnership.” I decided. “Whatever else our relationship, it is mutually beneficial to both of us. In equal measure, I’d like to believe.”

He nibbled at my ear, and I reached up and pushed him away patiently. Feeling his amusement brush alongside my own.

“You have a dark heart, My Queen. Your soul is sharp and hardened. And any demon would enjoy serving you. I have not met a mortal of your like before. I enjoy your hunger, your greed, your ambitions. They are both delicious… and familiar.”

“So you are saying we get along so well because I am more like a demon than a mortal?” I asked, finding myself more than a little amused at the notion.

His laughter echoed around the room. “I suppose I am, My Queen. But I am certainly glad it is my mark you wear.” He nuzzled back against my ear. “I am greatly enjoying our… partnership.”

I reached up, resting my hand on top of his. “Oddly enough… I am too.”

...

UPDATE: Part six HERE

[winchest09]

Heatwave

Title: Heatwave

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Universe: AU

Word Count: 3711

Summary: A heatwave isn’t the only reason Dean Winchester is struggling to sleep. He ends up on your doorstep, and cooling down isn’t an option.

Rating: 18 +. NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Fingering, finger fucking, oral (female receiving), wall smut, kitchen smut, sweaty hot summer smut. 

A/N: So this is my smutty entry for @negans-lucille-tblr‘s challenge!  

The prompts i chose were: “man i ain’t ever seen an ass like hers” and “i don’t deserve you” these will be outlined in bold!

Also any mistakes are my own, please do not repost my work anywhere however reblogs are fine and welcome :) I’ll give you a virtual hug if you did reblog or comment, means the world <3 Main Masterlist

Let me know what you think!

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Dean was tossing and turning in his bed sheets, Kansas was currently being held by a heat wave that showed no signs of going away any time soon. Earlier on in the evening, the air conditioning unit in Dean’s room had decided to break, even though he did all he could to try and fix it, it was of no use. The parts were old and needed replacing, something he could only do in the morning. This left Dean hot, sweaty and incredibly frustrated. His frustration was not only being caused by the heat, it was also being caused by the thoughts of you writhing beneath him the day before. The way your body rubbed against his as he snaked his fingers into your panties, the way you nibbled his bottom lip as you tried so hard not to scream his name, you were in a public place after all.

His phone buzzed for the umpteenth time that night. Rolling over to his night stand, Dean sucked in his bottom lip, running his tongue over it as he opened the newly sent message. He groaned audibly, running a hand through his slightly sweat dampened hair before throwing the sheets off of his naked body. He couldn’t sleep, he wasn’t going to sleep any time soon so he may as well be productive with his time. He pulled on his pair of dark jeans, not bothering with underwear before throwing a grey t shirt over his body, grabbing his car keys from the top of his drawers. He padded down his stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible so he didn’t wake his little brother as he made his way to the hallway for his shoes.

“Dean?” The voice that sounded in the darkness made Dean jump out of his skin, one foot halfway in his boot. Turning around he saw his not so little brother standing in the archway that led into the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand.

“Oh…erm…hey Sammy,” Dean replied awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Sam creased his brow as he looked down to see his brother’s feet half in his boots.

“Dean it’s two in the morning, where are you going?” He questioned, arching a brow at Dean’s sheepish look, watching how his elder brother continued to rub at his neck when it suddenly clicked for Sam. “Wait…you’re going to Y/N’s aren’t you?” He asked incredulously. Dean just rubbed his forehead as he stood straighter, letting out a sigh as he did so.

“I can’t get her out of my head Sam. I can’t sleep, this damn heat wave is killing me, the AC unit has broken in my room and all I can think about is seeing her again,” he admitted, his hands out wide from his sides, a smirk adorning his lips, “man I ain’t ever seen an ass like hers.” Sam just shook his head as a tiny laugh escaped him, his brother was unbelievable.

“So what, you’re just gonna show up to her door unannounced in the middle of the night?” Sam asked, walking around Dean to get to the solid wood staircase, ready to take himself back up to bed. The elder brother just shook his head, his smirk still on his lips as he looked to down at his shoes, slipping them further on his feet.

“On no, she’s knows I’m on my way…she’s been texting me all night. Sinful, sinful things Sammy,” Dean divulged, winking at his little brother. “Don’t wait up!” Dean pointed at his brother as he made his way out of the front door, Sam just waving him off with a roll of his eyes.

Dean made his way to his beloved impala which was parked out front, the night air thick and sticky. As he walked out of his yard, his thoughts were on you and the messages you had been sending him. He could feel himself hardening as he walked, the last text you sent burning in his mind, the picture of you in nothing but your underwear. As he slid into the drivers’ seat, he pulled his phone out and looked at the photo once more, a slightly audible groan escaping his plump lips as he studied it. You were wearing a lace maroon coloured bra with matching panties, you were lying back on your bed, sheets tangled around your legs with your hand resting just above your chest. To Dean, you looked delectable and the message that accompanied your picture cemented his decision to race over to you.

I. Need. You.

Placing baby in drive, he sped off in the direction of you. Not one for keeping to speed limits, Dean knew he’d be at your front door in less than ten minutes, if he really pushed and the lights were in his favour, maybe even less. With one hand on the leather of the steering wheel, his other hand was free to palm at his erection through his jeans. He was desperate for another taste of you, desperate for another taste of your lips; desperate for another taste of your sweet pussy.

He couldn’t believe his luck when he saw you again just over a week ago. He felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs, like he had been punched in the gut when he saw you walk elegantly across the marbled floor in your navy floor length dress. You looked just as beautiful as the day he stupidly left town to continue his family business, to take over from his father and become the CEO of Winchesters Inc. Dean didn’t know it then, but the moment he saw you wave goodbye in his rear view mirror would be the last time he saw your face, until now. You both tried the long distance relationship thing but Dean was young, reckless and the temptation of women closer to him became hard to resist. Within a couple of months, after a couple of arguments, you decided to call time on your relationship.

However, no matter how hard Dean tried, no matter how many women he slept with; not one compared to you. They didn’t feel the same underneath him, his name didn’t sound right coming from their lips in moans, nothing could compare to the feeling of being balls deep inside you. He missed you, but he knew his ship had sailed. Or so he thought. Fast forward four years and here he was, racing with a painfully hard cock to your front door. The charity function that a local art gallery had arranged was the last place he thought he’d see you again but there you were, mingling with the locals, looking even more beautiful than the last time he saw you.

It didn’t take long to fall back into natural habits with each other, Dean tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear as he asked what you’d been up to and you biting at your lower lip as you looked up into his moss coloured eyes to answer his questions. It felt like you’d never been apart, like you hadn’t lost those four years so it was no surprise to either of you three hours later when Dean slammed you up against the wall of the arts office, bunching your dress up above your hips before running his long fingers through your soaked folds. He then dropped to his knees and lapped you up like a man starved, his tongue swirling around your clit, his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy as you clung to his head for balance. That night you had the best orgasms of your life and you both rekindled what you had lost.

After exchanging numbers once again, neither of you went a day without texting nor calling. Dean had you back and he would be damned if he lost you again. He pulled up outside of your home, all of your lights were off and the clock read 2.13am. He had made it to yours in just under ten minutes, his cock still hard in his jeans, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting you. He swung open the impala door, the hinges squeaking slightly before shutting it behind him. He half jogged across your yard, running a shaky hand through his hair before gently knocking on the front door. He waited with baited breath, the last time he saw you was a week ago; your schedules not allowing either of you any time to be together. After a couple of seconds, he heard the lock being undone and the door opened, revealing you on the other side wrapped in a bed sheet. His cock twitched at the sight and he let out the long breath he was holding.

You smiled at him coyly, opening your door wider before walking back a little bit. Your hands wrapped around your sheet as you slowly unwrapped yourself from the cotton, letting it pool at your feet to reveal you standing there in nothing but heels and your maroon underwear. You’d been waiting for him and Dean licked at his bottom lip at the sight of you. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.

“Damn sweetheart,” he husked, as he walked into your home, shutting the front door with his foot, “I don’t deserve you.”

He didn’t give you time to respond as he had taken the two strides to get to you in no time at all, wrapping his large hands around your hips as he pulled you into him. Your breasts were pressed tight against his chest, your arms instinctively going around his neck as he captured your lips in a crushing kiss. His tongue running along your bottom lip, begging for entry to which you granted. His hands didn’t stay on your hips for long, after a gentle squeeze, he slid one hand into your hair whilst the other slipped under the waistband of your panties. You moaned softly into his kisses at the feeling of his fingertips gracing your skin, goose bumps erupting over your body at his touch. His nose nudged yours as he moved his head to change the angle of his kiss, pulling you impossibly closer to him before teasing his fingers lower into your underwear, his fingers now dipping into your folds. He groaned loudly when his fingers became coated in your juices, when he realised how wet you were and that it was all for him.

Dean’s cock was straining against his jeans and you could feel it hard on your hip as he pressed himself against you, his hand still in your panties as he started to stroke your tiny bundle of nerves with his thumb. His fingers were teasing the entrance to your pussy and you whimpered against him, feeling how you were coating his fingers with your fresh slick. Dean started to walk you backwards, his mouth still on yours, grumbling against your lips. You felt the coolness of the wall collide with your skin as Dean pressed you into the it. The events from the week before flooding your mind, the way his lips felt wrapped around your clit, his tongue snaking its way through your folds; the thought alone made you quiver. Your hands gripped at Dean’s biceps to steady yourself, your nails leaving crescent marks in his skin as Deans fingers slid into you until they were knuckle deep. You gasped, breaking contact with Dean’s lips as you let a wave of euphoria wash over you. Dean wasted no time, his lips were attacking your skin, nipping and kitten licking your neck. He started to pump his fingers in and out of you in a fast rhythmic motion, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit as he finger fucked your soaked pussy.

Dean was relentless in his attack on you, he craved your whimpers, he needed your moans and he yearned to have his cock buried to the hilt inside of you. He continued to curl his fingers inside of you, his palm rubbing at your sensitive nub as his lips trailed down your neck to your breasts. With his free hand, he pulled the cups of your bra down, taking one of your nipples immediately into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the bud, his fingers were fucking you incessantly and the coil in your stomach was tightening. Your grip was very much still on the tops of his arms, nothing but pornographic noises were leaving your mouth as your knees started to quiver.

“Oh god…De…Dean,” you stuttered, your eyes screwed closed due to your impending orgasm. Dean just growled against your skin, the smell of your perfume mixed with the musk of your sex was a scent that he could happily drown in.

“That’s it Y/N, let go baby,” he husked, his mouth placing hot kisses against your breasts before he moved back up to the other side of your neck.

With a flick of his fingers and the friction from his palm, you came undone. His one arm was now wrapped around your waist to stop you from falling as he felt your pussy pulse around him. You coated his hand in fresh slick before he pulled his hand out of your panties slowly, bringing his fingers to his lips. You watched how he sucked off everything you had given him and you couldn’t wait for him any longer. You needed to take control. Tiny beads of sweat rolled down your chest, the heat of the night starting to affect you as well as Dean. Your breasts were heaving and you noticed how Dean was watching them intently as you sucked in your bottom lip. Pushing back on him slightly, you ran your palm across his clothed hardened cock and you smirked when he hissed. You were impatient. You grabbed at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head to discard it behind him before placing your lips on his neck, sucking at his pulse point.

Dean growled at your bold movements, his hands coming to your thighs, his fingers leaving indents in your skin as he focused on the feeling of your soft lips. You kissed up to his ear, before working down his jawline, relishing in the way his stubble was leaving a pleasurable burn on your lips. He captured your lips once again in his as he roughly picked you up from the floor, you instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist. You licked at his bottom lip before biting down on it gently, causing the Winchester to moan against you. You felt a gentle breeze as he carried you the short distance to your kitchen, placing you down on the cool granite of the island that was situated in the middle of the room.

As his lips massaged your own, his hands made light work of the clasp of your bra and he chucked it behind him, your undergarment landing in the sink. His hands ghosted over your skin, sliding from your sides down to your hips before one large hand placed itself over your abdomen, pushing you down gently, encouraging you lay flat on your back. You did as you were told, your hair splaying out beneath you as you looked up to see dark green lust filled eyes staring back at you. His toned chest was heaving with each breath he took. He took one leg in his arms, kissing from your ankle all the way to behind your knee, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he ghosted his lips over your ruined panties. Dean smirked as he saw how your arousal had soaked through the silk, sucking on the spot before trailing his kisses down your opposite thigh. Dean hooked your legs over his shoulders, bringing both of his large hands to your panties, a devilish smirk on his lips as he ripped the material clean off.

“I hope you weren’t fond of those, sweetheart,” Dean growled, the sight of your bare pussy glistening in the moonlight making him lick his bottom lip. His action had made you gasp slightly as you tried your hardest to rub your thighs together to gain a bit of friction but his strong hands were holding your legs apart.

“Nuh uh,” you mewled, desperate for him to make his move. You didn’t have to wait long, the sight of your slick covered pussy caused Dean to go at you like a man starved. His fingers of one hand parted your folds as he licked a long strip from the entrance of your sex to your clit. You heard him groan with pleasure as he tasted you and it made your pussy clench around nothing. Your hands clawed at his short brown hair as you moaned, Dean was relentless. He had no particular method, no particular pattern, his tongue was just working you the way that Dean had always worked you. The coil in your stomach was tightening once more, the way he looked up at your writhing body as he flicked his tongue over your sex was enough to finish you off. You arched your back against the cool granite, something that was welcomed as your skin was clammy. The thick heat that was filling the night air doing nothing to cool you as you recovered from your second orgasm of the night.

Dean grinned, running his tongue slowly over his top lip as he placed wet kisses over your abdomen, your slick glistening over his mouth. You whimpered, you were sensitive and desperate for him to fill you. You needed him to fill you. Not willing to wait any longer, you moved your legs from his shoulders and pushed him backwards, your hand sliding straight away into his jeans. You were not surprised to find him not wearing any underwear, the fact he was commando turned you on, it had always turned you on. Dean’s lips were attacking your neck once more as you placed desperate kisses against his chest, working the button and zip of his jeans. You pushed them eagerly down his legs, his hard cock springing free and you groaned at the sight of him. He was long, thick and precum was seeping from his tip. Dean was painfully hard and he hissed when your hand wrapped around him. You started to pump his cock, massaging his balls in your other hand as Dean’s lips made their way back to your mouth. His kisses were breathless, his eyes were tight with pleasure from your touch but he couldn’t take any more of your hand. Your pussy was begging for him and he needed you, now.

Dean broke free from your lips once more as he pushed you back flat against the granite surface, your breasts heaving with each breath you took. Dean raised both of your ankles to his chest, your heels providing temporary cool relief against his burning skin as he separated them, placing one either side of his head. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust as you felt his cock nudge at your entrance, one large hand flat on your stomach to hold you in place. He coated his cock in your slick a few times, rubbing it through your soaked folds before he slowly entered you. You gasped, throwing your head back at the pleasurable burn Dean’s cock gave you as you accommodated him.

“Fuck Y/N!” Dean groaned when he was fill to the hilt inside you, your pussy squeezing around him, “you’re so tight.” You looked back up at Dean, your ankles either side of his head, his hands on your hips as you tried to move.

“Move, De,” you mewled, “fuck me,” you begged breathlessly. Dean didn’t need to be asked twice, his grip on your hips was tight as he fucked you hard and relentless on the counter top. Your breasts were bouncing with each of his thrusts, the sound of your slick and Dean’s balls slapping against your ass echoing around the kitchen. You moaned, you panted and you were desperately trying to grab onto something.

Dean threw his head back as he felt your pussy tighten around him, this angle was definitely one of his favourites, he felt like he was going deeper with each thrust. He growled as you clenched around him once again, the movement encouraging him to pound into you harder, his hands bringing your pussy down onto his cock with force. You felt that familiar tightening once again, your coil wanting to snap at any moment. Dean recognised the look on your face, he knew when you were close. You screwed your brow slightly, your lips parted just a little, your eyes were half lidded. He brought one hand from your hip to your clit and he began to rub in little circles as he fucked you hard. He felt his balls tighten, he wasn’t far off from cumming himself.

Your legs were the first to tighten, your toes curled into your heels, your hands were trying to grasp at anything they could as an explosion of euphoria overwhelmed you. You were repeating Dean’s name like a mantra as your pussy pulsed around him, wanting to milk him for everything he had. This is what Dean had been craving, this is what he needed; you. He came undone at hearing his name fall from your lips in plea, at feeling your pussy tighten against his cock. He gave you everything he had, releasing hot ropes of cum inside of you, filling you entirely.

Dean fell slightly on top of you, using one hand to hold himself off you as beads of sweat trickled down his toned chest. Your weak legs fell from his body, dangling off the edge of the counter as you came down from your third high. Dean placed loving kisses against your body as his cock started to soften inside of you, his seed dripping from your entrance. In this moment, he didn’t care about the heat wave or the four years he had lost with you. You were his oasis in a desert, and he was never going to give you up.

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A/N: I hate how tumblrs removed the page break. Anyway...I hope you’ve enjoyed this little one shot!  Let me know your thoughts HERE! :)

Also - my tag lists are open. Just let me know if you want to be added! Thanks for reading! xox

My Forever Darlings: 

@squirrel-moose-winchester @researchandbones @negans-lucille-tblr  @snffbeebee @cappsikle @couldabeenamermaid @spaghettiwoes @lynne1993 @maddiepants  @alwaysdreamingforthebest @31shadesofbrown @mrswhozeewhatsis  @wecantgiggleitsafandom @thefaithfulwriter @spnbaby-67 @not-quite-dead @blackcherrywhiskey  @helpmeluci @myownsnowflake @hobby27 @icequeen206 @big-sad-energy @coffee-obsessed-writer @faithleh @spnhollis @zoerayne2426

My Dean Queens: 

@x-waywardaf-x @adoptdontshoppets

(If there is a line through your name, it’s because your tag hasn’t worked! I’m sorry! Just message me and we can try to sort it)

[lovingzombiechaos]

The Price We Pay-Chapter 7

Chapter Seven--In which Negan and Nayna make a bet and Nayna is overcome by self-pity and the giggles. 

Word Count: 4503

@dusty-cookie @embracetheapocalypsewithme @vizhi0n @bestfriendsbirthdayparty @theonethatgotaway213 @negans-network @kinkozan  Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Also, if some of you could reblog this for more exposure, I would be ever so grateful. <3

AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325643/chapters/23192319

“And do you know what that fucker said to me?”

“What?” she asked automatically, eyes fixated on the window to Judith’s room.

Negan’s voice droned on in her ear, but she didn’t hear a single thing he said because Rick appeared in the window, his back to her as he pulled Judith from her crib. She tucked her hair behind her ears and nodded for Negan’s benefit.

Rick’s head bobbed up and down and he gestured with his free arm. He was probably talking to Michonne.

Carl, Rick and Michonne had been having breakfast when she ambled down the stairs, bleary-eyed and messy haired. They hadn’t laid a plate for her. Michonne jumped up rather quickly, apologizing, with some story about how she thought Nayna was going to sleep in.

She waved Michonne off and plastered a smile on her face. Everything was fine, even though she gritted her teeth through the fake smile and she turned away before any of them could suggest anything. She stopped only briefly to put her boots on and fix her hair into a messy braid, nodding placidly at Michonne while secretly seething inside.

She walked out the door and straight into Negan, with that maniacal smile and far too much energy for one person. He practically bounced on the balls of his feet.

She shifted her weight to the other foot and wrapped an arm around her middle. Judith and Carl and Michonne and Rick. One big happy family. One they insisted she was part of and yet, she always felt like she was on the outside, looking in. They were her family, but she wasn’t theirs.

Most of the time she pushed her feelings about Rick to the side. But sometimes, they bubbled just under the surface like an acid pooling in her stomach. Sometimes Nayna hated Michonne and Rick. Sometimes she blamed them for taking away what she could have had.

Mostly, though, she blamed herself. Maybe, just maybe if she’d told him how she felt, then they could have been a family.

Michonne crossed into view and placed a hand over Judith’s blonde curls. Nayna’s jaw tightened. Rick leaned in to kiss Michonne. That should be her kissing Rick, making Rick laugh. Why couldn’t that be her? How could Rick be so blind that he couldn’t see what everyone else did?

Fuck, even Negan saw it the first time they met. Nayna chewed on her inner cheek at the thought that Negan read her better in an hour than Rick ever had in the three years she’d known him.

Rick’s shoulders started to shake as he shook his head at Michonne, whose thousand-watt smile lit up the dim room.

If she stayed, watching the three of them any longer, she was going to cry. Stuffing a knuckle in her mouth, Nayna swiveled on the ball of one foot, a ballerina like pirouette, and rushed down the road. She kept her head down, passing the houses, weaving her way deeper into Alexandria.

She couldn’t bear to see another soul right then. The question and answer session had been brutal, leaving her feeling attacked and ever more alone. People wanted to know why she was doing it, why they were bowing to Negan. Demanding answers she couldn’t give. And it hurt her, knowing that people were more angry at her than grateful. She didn’t understand it. She thought she’d been doing everyone a favor. Instead, it made her more of a pariah, with people seeing her as working with the Saviors and not against them. She reminded them of what they owed the Saviors. And she reminded them what the Saviors could do.

Some of them treated her like she was dead already. She wished she could say she wasn’t sad, but for some reason it stung. She supposed it had to do with not feeling like part of anything. She was always just there and everyone treated her accordingly. Until Rick fucked up and then they demanded she do something about it.

She pretended like it didn’t hurt. She pretended like she didn’t give a shit. Hell, she couldn’t let on that she did care.

A hand clamped around her elbow and spun her around, throwing her off balance. She staggered forward into the giant wall of muscle that was Negan. She smelled the stupid cologne he wore the first time they met. What sort of asshole wore cologne in the middle of the end of the world? Despite herself, she smiled. He quirked his brows in return.

“The fuck are you doing, doll?” His tone was pleasant enough, but she heard the edge in his voice.

“I got distracted.” Although he was big and warm and solid and she longed for nothing more than to be held, she twisted her elbow from his grip. Her arm tingled and…burned from where he held her.

He twirled Lucille in the air. “In other news, water is fucking wet.”

Nayna sighed. “What, Negan?”

He was all dimples and flashing teeth. “I came to see Rick the Prick actually. It’s about my load.”

“Did you blow it?”

He turned his gaze on her, razor sharp with that fucking shit-eating grin, even wider than before. “I knew it.”

Oh fuck. “You knew what, Negan?”

“That you had a dirty little mind,” he tapped her temple, “all along. It’s always the quiet ones who end up the fucking kinkiest.”

She shook her head, sucking her teeth. Asshole.

He gripped her chin. “I wouldn’t wanna waste my load on a fucker like Rick. No, I have a special fucking load that’s reserved for that pretty face, doll.”

She squinted up at him. “Yeah, that’ll happen when the dead stop walking.”

“I noticed you didn’t say it was gross. You like—hey Rick!”

Her eyes flicked up the path to Rick, speed walking their way. Nayna heart sank. Of course Negan would throw Rick in her face. And of course Rick had such poor fucking timing.

Those blue steel eyes remained fixated on Negan even as she tried to get his attention. “What?”

Negan waved to him with Lucille. “Good fucking morning! It’s a fantastic day, isn’t it?”

Rick glowered at Negan before turning to her. “Michonne made a plate for you.”

She bobbed her head up and down. “I’m not hungry.”

He frowned at her but Negan interrupted. “Mind if I steal your girl for the day?”

She clenched her jaw. If she denied being Rick’s girl, Negan would laugh. “I’ve got work—“

“—play a little hooky doll. I’ll make it worth your fucking while.”

“I thought you needed to speak to Rick.”

“Oh, fucking right I do. Thanks for the reminder, dollface.” Negan turned that smirking gaze on Rick. “Where is the rest of my shit?”

“At the front gate, where it always is, Negan.”

“Now now, it’s not enough.”

Nayna furrowed her brow. “It’s the same amount—“

“—don’t be fucking rude, doll. I was speaking with your fearless leader. Now, we can do this two ways. You can run the fuck out and get me more supplies. Whatever the fuck you think might work. Or I can just fucking…” He swept Lucille in the air and clicked his tongue, imitating hitting her with the stupid bat. “I mean, I don’t really fucking want to, but if I fucking have to…I will. It would be a damn shame to waste not only a fine piece of ass, but someone equally as capable as four of my men. Truth be told, I kinda fucking wish someone else was the one up for the bat. Maybe your little Asian friend.”

“Enough,” Rick said, giving Negan the same look he gave to the Governor. “That’s enough. We’ll go out and get your shit.”

Negan looked at his watch. “Good. You have three hours. In the meantime, I’m stealin your girl for the day.”

Rick glowered at them both. They both knew he had no choice but to let Negan lead her away, arm slung across her shoulders. Nayna glanced back at Rick and mouthed an apology. His lips thinned into a straight line as he watched them go.

Negan rattled her. “You fuckers have a pool table? I fucking love pool.”

She shrugged. “I think one of the empty houses has a table in the basement.”

“Awesome. Let’s go fucking play a match, doll.”

She glanced back at Rick. “I can’t. I have important things to do.”

“Such as?” He tapped the end of the bat on the toe of his boot.

She shot him a look that said, ‘Anything but billiards with you.’ She gazed back at Rick, who was standing there, hands on the top of his head, face flushed.

Negan rolled his eyes and then followed her line of sight. “You really fucking love to torture yourself, don’t you?”

She shoved his arm off her shoulder and took a step back. “What do you want with me?”

“The fuck you talking about?”

She threw up her arms in the air. “You want to kill me and yet…you want to fucking date me.”

He busted out laughing. “Date you?”

“You know what I fucking mean.”

He was still chuckling. “Pardon me for wanting to fucking entertain myself with a hot woman.”

She squinted at him, unsure if he was fucking with her or not. She wouldn’t consider herself ugly, but she didn’t think she was hot either.

“You want to kill me.” She crossed her arms over her breasts. Of course he looked.

“Um, not fucking really. I’d rather fuck you.”

She flushed and rolled her eyes toward the sky. Maybe he wouldn’t notice her discomfort. The way her heart pounded in her chest. The way her mouth went dry and furry at the thought of him…inside of her. She jumped when Negan’s gloved fingers brushed a stray hair away from her face.

She pushed his hand away and stalked off. “It’s this way.”

He jogged to catch up with her.

Stuffing Lucille under one arm, Negan rubbed his hands together gleefully. “So, doll. What kind of fucking wager do you want to make?”

She blinked at him. “I don’t.”

He fell into step beside her. “Come on, doll, where is your sense of fun?”

She stopped and stared at him thoughtfully. Sense of fun? What was that? When was the last time she’d really had fun? Fuck, she really couldn’t remember.

She traced a finger along her lower lip. “Fine. If I win, you don’t take any supplies from us this week. You’ll resume your normal pick up next week. No demanding more.”

His brows shot upwards. “Oh-ho-ho! Wait a fuckin minute, that’s not how this works.” He wagged a finger in her face.

She resisted the urge to chomp down on his gloved hand. Though the thought of him forcing his leather clad finger in her mouth send pearls of heat along the surface of her skin.

“Then let me get back to my work, Negan.”

He grinned. “I don’t fucking think so. You’ve gotta make this worth my goddamn while, doll. What do I get if I fucking win?”

“I’ll give you that kiss you so fucking desperately want.” There was no earthy rhyme or reason why she should have said that, and yet she did. He looked as surprised as she felt. And then that chocolate melting grin spread across his face. She liked that smile. It made her fucking forget he wanted to bash her damned brains in.

He leaned in close. “Tongue?”

Yes. “No.”

“Gotta have tongue, doll, otherwise what fucking good is that?”

“No tongue.”

He stood up, looming over her. “Fine, then half your supplies this week.”

“Alright, tongue,” she said with a slight sigh.

“Hot damn, doll. I can’t wait to kick your fucking ass in pool.” He pumped his fist, making Nayna roll her eyes hard enough to feel light-headed.

“Pool table is in that house.” She pointed to one of the nearby buildings and he placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her along the road, Lucille thrown over his shoulder.

“Got any fucking beer?”

“No.”

He clucked his tongue against his teeth. “Whiskey?”

“No.”

“Bourbon?”

She stepped over the small fence and onto the dying lawn. “Negative.”

“Jesus, you got anything at all to fucking drink?”

They stopped and Nayna bent down, clasping the handle for the garage door. “I’m not the person to ask. I don’t drink.”

His eyes flicked down to her ass. “Who the fuck doesn’t drink?”

She grunted as she hauled the rusty, groaning door upward. “Number one, stop staring at my body. Number two, I don’t fucking drink because it’s stupid. My luck would basically be me getting shitfaced and then a fucking horde would roam through the area and I’d be too drunk to function. It’s also not fucking safe for that exact reason.”

Negan put a hand under the door and pushed it the rest of the way open. “You really think you’re going to get eaten here? I think you’re pretty fucking safe.”

She fixated an unblinking stare on him. “You’re never safe, Negan. It’s always an illusion.”

“The fuck does that even mean?” he asked to her retreating back.

She picked her way through the boxes and tools towards the back of the garage where she flicked on the lights. “Come on, it’s in the basement.”

He followed her inside the little house and watched as she pushed the windows open. “The fuck you doing?”

“Airing the place out. Never know if someone will need it,” she said in a strained voice as she opened a particularly stubborn window.

“Like you?”

“What?”

“You fucking live with Rick. Don’t you fucking think you need a home of your own?”

She stopped and eyed him warily. “Please don’t tease me about Rick.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I asked nicely.”

Negan gestured outwardly. “Well, since you fucking asked me nicely.”

“Thank you.”

He sauntered into the kitchen and began rifling through the cabinets. “Think they stored any of the fucking good shit here?”

Nayna opened the basement door. “Didn’t we just go over this, Negan? Your people took all of our shit, remember?”

“Ah fuck a duck. Well, I’ll find something.” He used Lucille to point her down the stairs.

In the basement, he propped the damn bat in the corner and together they found a bottle of the cheapest whiskey, hidden at the back of a dusty cabinet. Negan grimaced as he took a swig from it. “Not too fucking bad.”

He held it out to her, but she moved past him to the bar and thrust a glass into his hands. “How about not acting like a fucking pig and using a cup?”

He threw up his hands and snorted, like a pig. Nayna glared at him and he laughed.

“You need to get a fucking sense of humor.”

“I have a sense of humor, you’re just not fucking funny.”

“I am fucking hysterical.”

Nayna just shook her head and flipped the light directly above the pool table on. Thankfully the balls were all neatly queued, as if they were just waiting for someone to play. She gnawed on her lip. What the fuck had possessed her to make such a bet? She was pretty terrible at pool. Maybe she wanted to kiss him. She glanced over at him, watching her as he sipped the honey colored liquid. He raised his brows at her and she sighed. Yeah, she wanted to kiss him.

Four years had passed since she’d been kissed last. A salty peck from William before he got on the ship. Because they were angry at each other. As usual.

Negan cleared his throat and picked up a pool cue, holding it out for her. “Ladies first.”

“Pass. You break the balls.”

“Aww, I thought you said you were a world class ball breaker. You’re so fucking good at busting mine.” He bent over the table, lining up his shot.

“And yet, you seem to enjoy it. You keep coming back for more.”

He peered at her over his shoulder and laughed. “Jesus Christ, doll. That is not what the fuck I meant.” He paused, considering her before chuckling again. “It’s true what they say then.”

“Who is they and what do they say?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I don’t fucking know who they are, but they say the sweet and innocent looking ones are always the ones with the fucking dirtiest minds.”

Her eyes flicked downward to Negan’s ass. It was a nice fucking ass. “Me, innocent? Hah.”

There was no denying her filthy mind. One of the things that William hated about her. She could turn any innocent phrase into something perverted. She stared over at the bar. A drink sounded really fucking amazing right about then.

A loud clack brought her attention back to the table as the balls rolled every which way. She watched them bounce against each other and off the wall, spinning out of control before coming to a complete halt.

“Doll?” Negan poked her with the stupid stick and she wrapped her fingers around it without even registering his presence.

She couldn’t help but think about William and their first date. He’d been the one to teach her how to play pool. She never beat him, but damned if she didn’t give him a run for his money.

Why was she thinking so much about her husband as of late? The first few weeks she thought about him constantly. Then she met Rick and William just didn’t match up anymore. By the time they got to Herschel’s farm, Nayna had given up all hope of finding him.

She hadn’t even insisted on going to Quantico when they passed it on their way to Alexandria. Sometimes, she didn’t want to find him.

“Nayna?”

She shook her head and muttered, “Sorry,” as she stepped up to the table, eyes searching for an opening.

Negan leaned his hip against the pool table. “So, dollface, what did you do for a fuckin living before all this shit?”

Nayna bent over the table as she lined up her shot. She could feel Negan’s eyes on the ample amount of cleavage spilling from her top. “What’s it to you?”

He burst out laughing as she missed the cue ball entirely. “You’re fucking awful at this, you know that?”

Silently and with a burning face she handed Negan the pool stick.

“Let’s see,” he said, surveying her as he chalked up the end of the cue. “You weren’t a housewife.”

“How do you know that?”

Negan smiled and bent over the table. “You don’t look like the fucking Holly Housewife type. Not the type to be content sitting at home doing fucking nothing.”

She smiled and watched as he knocked a striped ball into the corner pocket. “I wasn’t a housewife.”

He stalked around the table and lined up his next shot. “Hm. If I had to chance a fucking guess, I bet you were a fucking lawyer.”

Nayna threw back her head and laughed. “Wrong. So, so very fucking wrong.”

The stick slammed into the cue ball and sent another brightly colored ball into the middle pocket. “Okay, so you weren’t a fucking lawyer or a housewife.” He glanced up at her. “You don’t look like the fucking corporate drone type.”

She watched him, bemused. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not the sit back and watch type. You’re a fucking doer. I fucking love that about you. You get shit done.”

She placed her hands on her hips, raising a brow. “How would you know that? You’ve met me, what? Four times? Maybe five?”

Negan chuckled and drained his glass and placed it on the edge of the table. “And every single time you’ve been doing something.”

“Yeah, well, unlike you we don’t have the luxury of sitting on our asses while someone else does all the hard work.”

“You think it’s easy leading those fuckheads out there?” He gestured up the stairs with the pool stick. “If I had to choose between a fucking box of rocks or them, you know, I’d really have to sit down and think the fuck out of it.”

She picked up Negan’s empty glass and turned it over in her hands. “You think so little of your people?”

He shrugged. “If the obnoxiously large condom fits…”

She glanced up at him with a raised brow. “Two inches isn’t really obnoxiously large.”

Negan looked pained. “Two inches? What the hell have you been fucking? Your husband have a mini-micro-weiner or something?”

Her lips twitched with a smile. “It was a joke, not a dick Negan. Don’t take it so hard.”

“Wait, weren’t we fucking joking about hard dicks?”

She laughed “You have about as good a chance of guessing what I used to do as of guessing my fucking name.”

He grinned. “Oh really? Well, fuck, I love guessing games.”

She perched herself on the edge of the table, crossing one leg over the other. “Well, go on then.”

“Anna?”

“No.”

“Sarah?”

He took another shot. Miss. She took the stick from him and twisted it in her hands.

“Nope.”

“Faith?”

“Do I really look like a fucking Faith to you?”

He snorted. “Nah.”

She hopped off the table and chalked the stick with Negan watching her. Whatever the fucking chalk was supposed to do. She had no idea what she was doing as she bent forward, cue stick sliding between her thumb and index finger.

He laughed as she missed another shot. “Well, we know for a fucking fact you were never a professional pool player.”

She squinted up at him. “Fuck you.”

“You keep fucking shooting like that and I’ll be getting that kiss for sure. Hell, I think you’re fucking losing on purpose.”

She turned her back on him to hide her burning face. “Do you really think I want to fucking kiss you?”

His hand wrapped around her bare elbow and he twisted her around. She shivered as goosebumps popped up along her arms. With his face inches from hers he whispered, “I don’t think. I fucking know. You’ve got those fucking eyes. Jesus fucking Christ, doll. Those are I’m-sad-but-I-need-to-get-fucked eyes. Your mouth is saying no, like you were always taught, but your fucking fuck-me eyes are fucking begging me.”

By the time, he finished his little speech, his mouth was close to hers. She was glad to find his breathing just as heavy as hers, glad to know she affected him just the same. Placing a hand on his crisp white shirt, she pushed herself back. His heart slammed under her fingertips and his brows shot up.

“You haven’t won yet, Negan. Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched.”

She shuddered as he leaned in closer, hovering just out of lip’s reach. He was too close, too dangerous. “Stop.”

His voice was husky. “Why?”

She reared back. “I don’t like being touched.”

“Bet you don’t fucking mind when Rick touches you.”

“I mind it when anyone touches me.”

He stroked a fingertip along her jawline. “Why? That’s such a weird fucking issue to have.”

“I don’t know.”

He frowned at her, but dropped his hand and stood up to his full height, towering over her. “Do you fucking think I’m going to hurt you?”

Her eyes automatically shifted over to Lucille, propped up in the corner of the room. He grabbed her chin and turned her face towards him.

“Don’t fucking give me a reason, doll.”

She stepped away. “Let’s just fucking play this stupid game.”

Negan snorted and turned back to the table. She played with the small silver band on her finger, sliding it up and back down. Her jaw tingled from his touch. Any type of physical affection was hard for Nayna. Even with Rick. Especially with Rick. Carl and Judith were probably the only exemptions, while Glenn could get away with it occasionally, otherwise, she kept her distance. Negan being in her personal bubble made it hard for her to breathe, to think, to be. But there was always that one little urge in the back of her mind. The urge to be touched, held, loved.

How could she explain it without sounding stupid or juvenile? How could she explain it, when she was the one who came up with the idea of the kiss?

As Negan landed the 8-ball in the corner pocket, Nayna’s stomach rumbled with hesitant anticipation. She kept smoothing her palms over the front of her cargo pants and shifting her weight between each foot as he sauntered around the table, collecting the various balls. Occasionally he would look up at her and smile at her with that wolf’s predatory smile. He knew what he was doing to her and he was fucking savoring it.

He kicked over a stool and sat in front of her, so their faces were level. Negan’s fingers curled about her hips and he dragged her closer to him. Instinctively, she placed her hands on his wide shoulders.

He smirked at her obvious distress and allowed his fingers to slide from her hips, up to her waist. Her back tightened in response. He must have felt it, as he started to knead his fingertips into her sides. How was it possible to like something and dislike it so much at the same time?

“Well?”

She cleared her throat. “Well what?”

“You going to fucking kiss me or not?”

“What?”

“The bet was for you to fucking kiss me. Not for me to fucking kiss you.”

She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the bubble of excitement in her belly. The warmth radiated from his chest and seeped into her skin as she leaned forward. Her eyes fluttered shut.

It was the first time she was initiating a first kiss. Before she reached his mouth, a nervous snort escaped her nose and she pulled back, covering her mouth with her hand as she began a full on fit of the giggles.

Negan still held her firmly by the waist, though his brows were raised. “You fucking alright?”

She giggled harder at the gruffness and desire in his voice. “Maybe?”

His darkening eyes searched her twisted face. “I think this is the first fucking time I haven’t seen you with a poker face, doll.”

Her other had had fallen from his shoulder down to his chest, rising and falling with each heavy breath he took in.

He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping her face up to his. Her shoulders still shook with the giggles and she panted with the effort to keep calm.

“Doll—“

Two successive shots rang above them, instantly killing her laughter. Both looked up at the ceiling and then at each other. Her in fear and him in anger.

He pushed her away and strode over to Lucille, wrapping a big hand around her handle. “You better hope to fuck that wasn’t one of your people being stupid. Get the fuck upstairs and out there, now.”

[drririworth-blog]

Period cost table

*these averages are statistically gathered from women and trans men across the US, prices will vary depending on the individual locations and needs of the bleeding person* Tampons (18ct)= 7 USD Lasts 4.5 days Yearly cost= 84-147 USD Pros: convenient, comfortable, low mess, can use in pool, discreet. Cons: change every 6 hours or more, not environmentally friendly, can cause illness, can dry out vagina, may require panty liner. Pads (20 ct)= 7 USD Lasts 5-8 days Yearly cost= ~84 USD Pros: visual coverage, fewer changes than tampons, no insertion, lower in cost, wider variety of coverage and absorbency. Cons: uncomfortable, can show through clothing, can keep moisture around the labia causing infection, cannot be used to swim, not environmentally friendly, not compatible with all underwear, can shift. Menstrual cups 1ct = 30 USD Lasts 1 year or more Yearly cost= 30 USD Pros: only needs to be changed once a day, handles heavy flow, reusable, cheaper than disposable alternatives, somewhat customizable, can be sanitized, low risk of illness or infection environmentally friendly. Cons: takes getting used to, fairly invasive, cannot change in public restrooms, has to be washed. Midol(20ct)= 9 USD Lasts= 3+ days Yearly cost= 108+ dollars Heating pad 1ct = 5-20 USD Lasts= 1-2 years Yearly cost= 2.5-10 dollars Acne medicine 10-50 USD Yearly cost: 60-300 USD Birth control(the pill)= 0-50 USD Lasts 1 month Yearly cost: 0-600 USD Birth control(IUD)= 100-250 USD Lasts 3-6 years Yearly cost: 17-84 USD *may vary in cost to remove, general rule is the initial cost= cost to remove Cravings= 20-60 USD (This includes things like: wine, chocolate, chips, ect,) Yearly cost=240-720 Underwear= 10-40 USD Yearly cost= 120-480 USD Cheapest period month= 61 USD Cheapest period year= 732 USD Most expensive period month= 509 USD Most expensive period year= 3,108 USD *again, this can vary widely, but there's an average for you to look at. FAQ's 1. WHY WOULD ANYONE GO FOR THE MOST EXPENSIVE OPTION?! YOU CAN GET BIRTH CONTROL FOR FREE! A: not everyone can get free birth control. Depending on insurances and employers you may not have that free option. A couple of these are slightly based on preference, but remember that tax and other factors can increase or decrease the costs of these needs. 2. You totally missed something! A: please enlighten me in the reblog. 3. What about women and trans men that have hormonal imbalances and disorders? A: the cost of individual medical needs, while they can be a great factor when determining costs don't apply to most people with periods. (I know, I have PCOS and my period gives me extra hell.) but this is supposed to be just a general scope of things, and hopefully this will open up the conversation between people and their loved ones to ease that cost of possible, or to work with their insurances and legislatures to reduce those costs. 4. Why should the government pay for pads and tampons while I pay for my own toilet paper? A: I can't believe I have to answer this again but this is clearly a UTERUS ONLY cost. It's extremely unfair to put such a heavy extra cost on the literal existence of a person. 5. But aren't there more gender-specific products than just this that are unfairly taxed and priced just for aesthetic purposes? A: yes, and this is one way of tackling that unjustified cost of living. We'll have to ban together on a lot of issues and this is one of them. So please, let's be supportive of each other. 6. Don't you pay more for better quality? I mean the price differences seem justifiable. A: like I said earlier, some of these cost differences are based slightly in preference. But the point is that there should be a no-cost option for women who simply can't afford it. All pharmacies should carry free alternatives for most of these. Have a lovely day~ and help a person on their period today.