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lucifers-trash-stash · 7 years

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All For You

A/N: This is my entry for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash‘s third Negan challenge! My prompt was Demon!Negan and I decided to use one of the dialogue prompts that was requested for Negan a while back. (”Tell me you need me.” “I’m telling you, I’m haunted.”) Hope you guys enjoy :D

Word count: 1,556

Warnings: Death, swearing, demonic entities, Ouija boards, general spooky stuff.

You quickly entered your apartment and slammed the door shut behind you. The door was the only thing keeping you steady on your legs as your body was wracked with sobs. You slid down to the floor, your hands clasped over your eyes as the tears began to flow. There was a part of you that couldn’t help but acknowledge that the series of events that had been plaguing you recently were your fault.

It was a stupid decision to get together with your friends and mess around with a Ouija board. Really, how on Earth did you think that would be a good idea? Granted it was a long shot that you’d be haunted, but still.

It had only been a week, and yet bad things were happening all around you. That nasty coworker of yours at Starbucks that made it her mission to spite you at every turn? She spilled hot water from the coffee machine all down her right arm and needed to go to the hospital. The man that cut in front of you in line at the gas station? He walked outside and promptly fell flat on his face and broke his nose and chipped a few teeth.

But the worst one happened just within the hour. You’d been walking home from work, exhausted from a long shift. A man had catcalled you, and when you ignored him he started following you. Telling you that you were being rude to him. That you should say thanks to him for calling you “sex on legs.” You had begun to power walk now, knowing that no one on the street was going to stop and tell him to quit it.

And that’s when you felt something whoosh behind you and an earth shattering crash rang through your ears. Your head whipped around and looked on in horror at the sight before you. Out of nowhere, a car had spun out of control, onto the sidewalk, and pinned the man that was following you against the wall. Glass was everywhere, and from the small glimpse you took of the man that was hit, his face was red and frozen in silent shock.

In the commotion of people rushing to help the driver and the man against the wall, you turned heel and ran. You should have stayed, you told yourself. But what would the police be able to do for something like this? Something out of the realm of the natural world?

You were startled out of your thoughts when your phone began to buzz. It was one of your friends that had been there on the night you used the Ouija board.

“Hey, just calling to check up on you,” they said on the other end of the phone. “I know you’ve been paranoid the last few days.”

“I’m not paranoid,” you said through grit teeth. “It’s like I’ve been telling you. I’m haunted.”

“Do you know how crazy that sounds?” your friend laughed. “If you were haunted by a stupid dinky Ouija board then by that logic the rest of us would be too.”

“Look, I don’t have time to-” you started before you heard a thump from the other room.

Silently, you rose from your spot on the floor and listened for more. There was another soft thump down the hall near the living room. You quickly told your friend that you’d call them back and hung up.

It was silly to even consider anything other than bolting out of your apartment and running for the hills. And yet, you put one foot in from of the other, carefully using your hand on the wall to support your body. You weren’t sure what you’d find behind the door when you opened it, but you needed to know. The handle felt ice cold in your touch, a sign you should pull back and run, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You needed to know what was in there.

The door slowly creaked open, revealing your small but modest living room. Everything was in it’s place; bookshelves, the TV, your furniture. The only thing wrong with the room was the figure hunched over in the chair in front of you.

His head of dark brown hair was facing the ground, hiding its face from you. He wore a plain grey shirt and ragged jeans, his feet bare and coated in a tar-like substance that seeped into the fibers of the carpet as he sat there. His hands were clasped in front of him, dark black veins marring them as they swirled around his toned arms. He was also a well built man just from looking at him.

He didn’t flinch when you stepped towards him, inching ever so closely to figure out what his face looked like. He still wouldn’t lift it, not even when you were mere feet away from him. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your voice when you asked in the most confident voice you could muster, “What are you? Have you been doing all those horrible things?”

Slowly, the man tilted his head up and you gulped back the lump in your throat. His eyes were a dark black with amber irises, but that was the only scary thing about his face. He had salt and pepper stubble that graced his jawline. His lips were partially open, and you chastised yourself for imagining how kissable they might be. His black hair was slicked back, giving you a perfect view of his handsome features. It was hardly what you had imagined his face would be.

“Horrible things?” he asked, as if he wasn’t sure what you had said. “If anything, how those people acted was more fucking vile and repulsive than anything I did. I only protected you from being hurt any further by them.” His eyes glinted as his deep voice held a dangerous edge.

“Umm, you’re the same guy that we talked to on the Ouija board, right? Negan?” you asked as the man nodded his head. “While it’s, uh, nice and all that you were trying to look out for my best interests, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t. I’m fine, really.”

Negan quickly stood up and you flinched, expecting him to hurt you or grab you. Instead, he only stood there, his eyes looking at you sadly.

“Those people were fucking hurting you. It was the right action,” he said in a monotone voice.

“They were jerks but they didn’t deserve to be hurt like that!” you exclaimed, feeling yourself losing control. This whole situation was insane. The fact that you were even entertaining this idea that you weren’t losing your mind and you were in fact debating morality with a demon was insane. “None of them did a single thing that warranted-”

“Can you read minds, sweetheart?” Negan suddenly asked. When you shook your head at the question, Negan continued. “I can. And every fucking punishment fit the crime.”

He walked closer to you, but you didn’t flinch this time. Not even when he leaned down so you could stare into the black pits of his eyes. His amber irises were so striking against the rest of his eyes. They looked, sad, hurt, and angry all at once.

“Did you at all consider what that man who catcalled you fucking wanted to do to you? How he was going to attack you when your guard was down?” he asked with a snarl, the feeling of terror rising up within you again. Not from Negan himself, but from the realization of how much trouble you had really been in. Negan paused for a moment to calm his breath. Finally he spoke again, “I couldn’t let him do that to you.”

Why did you feel your heartbeat racing at those words? You should be repulsed by the mere thought of him. Running as far away from him as you could and calling an exorcist to hose down your apartment with a firehose of holy water.

But those eyes. The calm way he spoke to you. The fact that he was doing all of these things for you. You didn’t appreciate the extremeness of those things, and yet in his own mind he was doing it to save you. To keep you from harm.

When you didn’t give him an answer, his hands slowly reached up to cup your cheeks. “Please. Tell me you need me,” Negan said, desperation in his voice. “I’ll do anything you ask, if only to please you.”

“Do you promise?” you asked, feeling yourself leaning forward, closer to his body. It was a tempting offer, and you were unsure if you would be able to refuse.

“For you, my darling, anything,” he whispered against your lips before fully kissing you.

It felt like time had stopped, like he was the only one in the world that mattered at that moment. His kiss was tinged with cold, and yet there was a warm feeling lying just beneath the surface.

While there might have to be a discussion of how it wasn’t right to hurt everyone in her life that wronged you, it would be okay. Just so long as you were safe and wrapped up in his embrace, you were more than happy to spend an eternity working it out.

Let me know if you’d like on or off of my tag list <3

@superprincesspea// @vizhi0n// @ladylorelitany// @kijilinn// @the-angle-of-depression// @multi-villain-imagines// @squid-from-mirkwood// @notice-me-senpai-sama// @ofdragonsanddreams16// @uniquewerewolfsuit// @followmeonelasttime// @world-war-crap// @sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt// @zombeeegurl// @blondekel77// @deez666// @purplejellybean// @wadeyourebarelyalive// @johnthackerys// @memphisgirl1977// @melodicdolls// @negans-dirty-girl// @beltz2016// @daintyunicorn// @warriorqueen1991// @ryangoslingstanktop//

#ash's round 3 negan challenge #negan #negan x reader #negan x female reader #negan x you #negan fanfiction #negan fanfic #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #drabble #drabble challenge

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negans-network · 7 years

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Negan's Sycophant

Summary: For Ash’s Round 3 Negan Challenge, this fills in the Truth or Dare slot. Among the wives, Kat isn’t very popular, but an argument could be made that she’s Negan’s favorite little kiss-ass in all senses of the word.

Word Count: 6669

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Negan x F!OC

Warnings: Foul Language, Sexual Imagery and Language, Negan being Himself as Always, Rimming, Fellatio, Male-Receiving Oral Sex, Daddy Kink, Wife-Bashing, A Little Dark, Negan is kind of a Sub, Anal-fingering on Male, Vaginal fingering, Squirting

Author’s Note: This is a smutty one-shot.

Author: @genevievedarcygranger

Tagging: just for those that I think would be interested @purplemuse89 @backseat-negan @ladylorelitany @ofdragonsanddreams16 @alyisdead @collette04 @noodlecupcakes @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @i-am-negan-trash @asshatry

In her uncomfortable, small bed in her cramped, small bedroom, Kat frustratedly tossed her book to the side. The other wives in the parlor were too loud and she couldn’t concentrate at all on the text. She could hear them laughing, and by the sheer frequency and volume, she guessed that they had opened up a few bottles of wine between them. Guiltily shifting on the bed, Kat could guess why.

Amber was the youngest wife, and she had made the mistake of sneaking around with Mark behind Negan’s back. Negan found out – of course, he would find out – and Mark had half his face burned off. It looked like it was going to be even worse than Dwight’s, because the eyelid on Mark’s left eye was completely gone. He’d need eyedrops or water to keep it from drying out. That meant spending points he didn’t have. Naturally Amber was completely devastated about it. She felt guilty and responsible for the situation, but Amber’s way of coping was primarily blaming Kat – because Kat was the one to tell Negan.

Kat didn’t mean to tell Negan, but in a fit jealousy, it just slipped out. Kat used to be the youngest wife before Amber, but then Amber came and stole all of Negan’s attention. He didn’t even try to split himself evenly among them anymore. The other girls were relieved, because they saw this as a job, but Kat being a fool (at least she was aware of being a fool) loved Negan. And then Amber had to go and cheat on Negan as soon as he started going back to other wives, and Kat hated it.

Now Kat felt even more horrible about it, though, than when she hated Amber. Maybe now Amber would be calm enough to accept Kat’s apology. With a sigh, Kat climbed out of bed, abandoning her book, and left for the parlor.

She was right to assume that they were drinking, but rather than wine, they went straight for beer instead. They were all sitting in a circle, Michaela and Amber on the couch, Tanya and Frankie sitting across from them. All of the wives looked different from each other as Negan liked a variety from his women. Looking at them now, Kat could see the appeal from Frankie the masseuse and Amber’s sweetness and Tanya thriving off being used and abused and Michaela’s beautifully curvaceous body. And Kat was jealous because she couldn’t offer him any of that. All she had was her love, but he couldn’t know that she loved him. He’d sneer, well maybe he wouldn’t, but there was no way he could love her when there were these beautiful women. Kat felt small, and briefly wondered what he could see in her compared to them.

Before she allowed her mind to wander any further, she dragged her eyes away from the women and focused on the glass coffee table in the center of the parlor. On it were several beer bottles, but one was empty and on its side. Blinking, Kat addressed the parlor at large when she asked, “You’re playing Spin the Bottle?”

Suddenly all eyes were on her, and they were anything but friendly – especially Amber’s daggers for eyes, brimming with tears and red-rimmed from both the tears and the booze. There would be no apology tonight. Michaela, out of all of them, was the least resentful, though; Kat shuddered to think why, consumed with the fear that Michaela knew that Kat loved Negan. Until Michaela brought it up, though, Kat would accept her indifference warily. As it is, Michaela was the one to finally respond to Kat. “We’re using the bottle in that way, except instead of kissing, we’re playing Truth or Dare.”

“Oh.” Kat didn’t bother to ask why she wasn’t invited. Suddenly, Kat noticed the empty tray on the table with the stems from fruit left over. It seems they had also deliberately neglected to call her to dinner with them; now that really irked Kat. Feeling a little awkward, Kat was unsure of what to say.

Taking pity on Kat, Michaela cautiously offered, “Would you like to play?” The other wives immediately shot Michaela a look of reproach, making it clear to Kat that she was unwanted.

That didn’t stop Kat from grasping the tentative olive-branch anyway. She gladly accepted Michaela’s offer, “Sure.” And there the awkwardness grew when Kat had to squeeze in on the couch. Michaela was the barrier between Amber and Kat, and all Kat could hope for is that that would be enough.

Once she was seated, Frankie set down her beer and cleared her throat loudly. “Alright, let’s play.” Using a lot of force, Frankie spun the bottle, and they all anxiously watched it spin.

Fingering the hem of her black dress, Kat was well aware that the laughter she had heard in her bedroom was now nonexistent all because of her. It gave her a sour taste formed in her mouth. “Is there anymore beer?” She casually asked, wondering when the bottle would finally stop spinning.

“No,” came Amber’s resounding answer, and Kat bit her lip.

Then Kat noticed that Sherry was missing. “Did Negan summon Sherry for the night or did she finally volunteer her time?” The way the system worked is that unless Negan specifically requested a certain wife, the wives would rotate among each other to spend time with Negan. For Kat, it was a dangerous game to play, to walk a balance so that they wouldn’t know just how willing she was to be with Negan. For Sherry to go to Negan on her own terms now, though, after everything, that would mean she had finally submitted. And that would mean Kat wouldn’t see much of Negan for a long, long time.

“Actually,” Tanya began, a tremor of unsureness in her voice, “We haven’t seen Sherry much today.” Now Frankie shot a look of reproach at Tanya, and her mouth closed with an audible click of her teeth.

Kat’s brow creased with concern. She thought Sherry had been getting better. Wherever she was now, this couldn’t bode well, not that Kat would complain. That small part of her – the part that learned to kill to survive and had enjoyed doing it, the part that conveniently dropped hints to Negan about Amber’s infidelity – hoped Sherry would be out of the way so that she could have Negan to herself. Kat would do anything to have Negan be hers, and that meant he brought out the worst in her. “That still means someone has to go to Negan, though.”

The wives shared looks with each other, a little uneasy. When Negan came back, the Sanctuary had turned into a hive of activity. The prisoner Daryl had escaped, there was a new prisoner, and Fat Joey was dead. Losing Sherry might push Negan over the edge. Besides, he might blame them for not looking out for Sherry or not coming to him sooner.

Finally, the silence was broken by Frankie. “Looks like the bottle chose you, Kat.” It was true. The mouth of the bottle pointed squarely at Kat’s lap, at knee level. “So, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Kat shrugged. She’d rather not admit truth if that meant revealing her love for Negan.

Frankie took a dainty sip of her beer, and then smirked. Suddenly, Kat wasn’t so sure if she should have played this game at all. “Well, since you brought it up, why don’t you go suck up to Negan some more and rat out Sherry, now. It comes so naturally to you after all.”

Immediately, Kat’s cheeks flushed red, but rather from shame, from anger. Before she could retort, though, Amber joined in. “Frankie’s right.” The blonde girl stood and wobbled unsteadily on her feet. She swayed and stumbled drunkenly towards Kat, and jabbed her finger in face. “You’re a kiss-ass,” she slurred lightly, “a brown-noser! A fucking sycophant bitch for that psycho asshole!”

Now, Kat could handle Amber smearing her name in the mud. Kat knew she was a horrible person, she knew Amber had a right to be upset. The girl was drunk, too, and Amber never drinks, so this was hitting her hard. But she felt Amber had no place to insult Negan. That crossed a line for Kat. She was on her feet before she knew it. “Fuck you, Amber,” she snapped. “If you don’t want to be with Negan then leave. You’re here by choice. He’s your husband, and if you hadn’t fucked Mark, then Mark’s face wouldn’t be fucked up!”

At that, Amber broke. She slapped Kat across the face while simultaneously bellowing out a broken sob, and it took everything in Kat not retaliate. Negan hated when his wives fought. Catty shit he could handle, but cat fights were a big no-no. Amber only slapped Kat once anyway before she tripped over herself to go to her room, fat tears streaming down her face, wailing loudly. Michaela followed to comfort her, but Frankie and Tanya stood and circled Kat like vultures. “Just go, Kat,” Frankie started in a low and menacing tone, “You got what you wanted. Negan is all yours.”

Cupping her stinging cheek, Kat leveled her gaze with Frankie. Frankie was the unofficial leader of the wives, and often she and Kat had disputes over Negan because Kat had issues with sharing. Hearing Frankie say that, though, Kat smiled maliciously. “You’re right. He’s mine.” And with that, Kat left for her husband, feeling marginally better.

When Kat slipped into Negan’s bedroom, she could hear the shower running, and she smiled happily now. She debated whether or not she should join him, but decided against it. Considering how upset he was earlier, she figured that he should use the shower to relax. Besides that, she was hungry, and Negan had a plate of sandwiches on his coffee table that was calling Kat’s name. Sitting on the couch and munching a sandwich, Amber’s words played in Kat’s head like a skipping record, over and over again.

Fucking sycophant bitch.

Kat believed it. Since the beginning, Kat has done whatever was necessary to survive – kill, steal, didn’t matter. To Kat, her survival was everything, everyone else be damned. Then the Saviors formed, and Kat was very tempted to join so that she could have extra perks. She was skilled enough to survive, she could do the job. But then she heard about Negan forming a harem, and Kat immediately ‘auditioned’ and got in the exclusive club.

Falling in love with Negan was never part of the plan, but it happened anyway. For one, the sex was fantastic. That was obvious enough. But then there were Negan’s tender moments. He talked to Kat a lot, told her things that he made her promise not to tell the others. Eyeing the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire in the armchair across from her, Kat remembered that discussion about Lucille’s namesake vividly. And the confessions about how he didn’t enjoy the killing, but made himself like it. Kat could relate considering how she would do – and has done – anything to survive. There was more to Negan than that psycho façade he had to put on, and Kat fell so hard for it.

The problem was, she doubted he’d ever feel the same. He knew about Kat’s life from before, and Kat even told him about the shitty things she’s done in this new world. None of it phased him, and he didn’t brush it off. But his façade wouldn’t allow him to just drop his wives, especially not now with what he’s done to Mark and Dwight. Kat sighed, and went to his scotch stash to pour herself a shot. Now that she had apparently usurped the other wives, things were going to be more difficult now.

“Well isn’t this a nice fucking surprise!” Kat whipped around, clutching a full glass of scotch to her chin. There was Negan, fresh from the shower, stark naked. Not that it was anything Kat hadn’t seen before, but God, he is such a beautiful sight how he is. Rivulets of water dripped down his chest, clinging to his tanned skin and beading in his thick, black body hair like dewdrops on a spider web. He was toweling his hair dry, both arms raised up, head slightly tipped forward, and the pose was reminiscent of every underwear model poster Kat had ever seen. The best part was, though, that there was no underwear. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his sex, nestled in a nest of black curls, and her throat went dry as her own sex was simultaneously flooded with arousal.

“Go ahead and eye-fuck me, Kat, I don’t mind.” Negan smirked and wrapped the towel around his neck. All of his black tattoos were on display, and his muscles were flexing beautifully, so Kat continued to eye-fuck him freely. “I’ve had a long fucking day,” Negan continued, walking towards her confidently, not bothering to cover anything. “And I could use wonderful fucking company like yours, Kitty-Kat.” He took the glass of scotch from her, and kissed her sensually before he took a gulp.

Appreciatively, Kat watched his Adam’s apple bob before she finally dragged her eyes back up to his again. She licked her lips in memory of their kiss, and then smiled at him softly. “Hey Daddy,” she placed her hands on his chest, rubbing up and down, “what would you like me to do to help you feel better?”

Immediately, he hummed appreciatively, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. It was his turn to eye-fuck her. “Oh, I can fucking think of several things.” His head dipped forward to kiss her again, but then he paused, eyeing her critically now. Negan set the empty glass down, and gently cupped her chin. “What the shit?”

Her eyes went round, and she stilled under his touch. There was a dark look in his eye that promised trouble and vengeance. She waited for him to explain, not necessarily afraid for herself. He never laid a finger on them that they couldn’t say ‘no’ to if they wanted.

Sure enough, Negan was muttering darkly again, practically hissing and spitting like a cat that had its tail stepped on. “What the shit is this? What the hell, Kat? Who the fuck laid a damn hand on you?” Ever so gently he brushed his thumb over Kat’s cheek, and she drew back tenderly.

Evidently, Amber slapped her hard enough to leave a mark. Kat frowned, and turned her face away from him, ducking her head. “I’m sorry, Negan. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“No, Kat,” Negan started sternly, “No. You know that no one can lay their hands on any of my wives, and I can’t fucking stand violence against women. You tell me who it fucking is. I will beat the holy hell out of them – and I don’t even need Lucille to do it. What the fuck happened?”

Sighing, Kat looked back at Negan. He had his jaw clenched, brows knitted together, and despite it being an expression of his fury, Kat still thought that it was a lovely face to sit on. She reached up and tenderly traced her fingers over his smooth chin and up his jaw, marveling at how cute he was still without his beard. The other wives had been displeased when he came back today with this baby face, but Kat didn’t care. He was such a handsome man no matter what. “Negan, do you think I’m a sycophant?”

“Fuck no,” he scoffed without missing a beat. “That’s what Fat Joey is – was. What Fat Joey was. Not you. Dwight is a lackey. I own everyone here like fucking cattle. Simon is my right-hand man, but you’re my wife. My wives are loyal. Or they’re supposed to fucking be. That’s all I ask for.” He tilted his head at her. “What the fuck are you asking me that stupid shit for anyway? What the hell happened, Kat, and don’t make me have to ask you a third time.”

“Amber slapped me and called me that for telling you about her infidelity,” Kat told him flatly, “and now Sherry’s missing, and they’re making me tell you that since apparently they think all I do is kiss your ass.” Looking up at him, Kat urgently assured him, “But it’s more than that, I promise you, it’s,” she choked on her words and switched tactics, “Sherry’s missing. We haven’t seen her since right before you left. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner.”

For a moment, Negan was quiet, and then he was swearing up a storm. He stepped away from her, marching up and down his room, tossing his towel to the floor with frustration. Kat listened to him rant, not moving an inch, just observing quietly.

“Fucking Sherry! Shit, shit, shit. Why’d she have to do this to me? Always making things so damn difficult, that bitch. After all the shit I do for her, and this is how she fucking treats me! No damn respect! Fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking fuck! Damn it!” If he had had Lucille in his grip he would’ve slammed her down to vent his pent-up frustration.

Just as suddenly, though, he changed his tune, murmuring mostly to himself. It helped him plan to pace and think out loud, and he trusted Kat enough to not go run her mouth. “Dwighty Boy was not involved. He was with me in Alexandria. There’s no way he could’ve know. Maybe Daryl used her to escape, took him with her. Can’t have her spilling secrets to Rick. Or maybe she just fucking left. Shit. I’ll have to let Dwight out of the cell and send him after her. Only he would know where the fuck she got off to, only he could convince her to come back. And if he doesn’t come back, I’ll find them both and kill them. This is what’s gonna prove that Dwight is loyal and can be trusted as a lieutenant, that he can run the replacement outpost when we set that shit up. That’s what I’ll fucking do.”

Then Negan stopped, and turned on his heel to face Kat again. He shook his head at her, leaning back on his heels. “Amber slapped you, huh, Kitty Kat? Did you beat her ass for it?”

“No. She was drunk and upset, so I…” Kat trailed off and shrugged. Her eyes dropped down to his sex again, and she swore that she saw it twitch. Was he getting hard at the idea of her and Amber fighting? She glanced back up at his eyes again, not missing that heated look.

He shook his head from side to side, gnawing at his bottom lip. Negan leaned back against his bed, hands propping himself on the mattress. Again, he was eye-fucking her. Looks like Kat was going to get her time with Negan before he’d finally let Dwight out of his cell. Lifting one hand imperiously, he crooked his fingers in a come-hither motion without saying a word.

Obediently, Kat moved to him and stood between his outspread legs. “Such a good girl all for me, Kitty Kat,” Negan began, and smiled at her crookedly. “I knew there was a reason you were always my favorite fucking wife.”

At his praise, Kat pressed her thighs together, seeking relief. “Daddy,” she simpered happily, “let me prove to you how good I am.”

“That’s what I like to fucking hear,” Negan crowed proudly, and reached between his legs to grasp at himself. “Yeah? You gonna strip yourself down and put on a damn good show for Daddy? You gonna get on your knees and worship Daddy’s big cock?” He shook his cock for emphasis, and it was already at half-mast without her even having to touch him or flash her tits. Kat flushed with pride, remembering how Negan said that just her talking in this sex-voice could get him hard.

“Oh, yeah, Daddy,” Kat cooed with a small grin. “You know I love – to please you, Daddy.” She had nearly slipped up, but seamlessly recovered. Eagerly, she twisted around. Her hair was swept aside and she tugged ever so slowly at her zipper until inch by inch of her back was showed. Once the zipper was completely undone, resting between the two dimples above her rear, Kat glanced over her shoulder at him and playfully shook her hips. Negan chuckled at her, his hand periodically squeezing his cock at he watched her, enraptured.

Pleased with herself, Kat turned back around and let the black dress drop to the floor. Now she was standing in her blue lingerie, and the panties were next to nothing, crotchless, but that’s not visible from the back. Negan was in for a surprise when she turned around. Her bra, however, would have to go first. The bra unhooked in the front, so when she undid it and pulled her arms loose, she tossed it away, and it caught on Lucille’s barbed wire.

At that Negan practically growled, “Fuck, Kitty-Kat, you know how I love to see my ladies in pretty, lacy things. You’re so cock-hardening, and now even my Lucille is wearing a little something for me. Damn, I didn’t know she looked good in blue, too.”

“Oh, if you like that, then you’ll love this, Daddy.” Twirling her hair around her finger, Kat giggled and finally faced him again. Her breasts were bare, nipples already hardened into buds in sweet anticipation and her sex was already dripping as well, her arousal clearly visible.

Well, Kat wasn’t wrong. At the sight of her, Negan instantly groaned and started moving his hand up and down his shaft. His other hand come up and cupped his balls, rolling them in his calloused palm. Christ, Negan touching himself was one of the sexiest things Kat had ever seen, and she’d never get used it. She hoped she never would. “Shit, Kitty Kat, I want you to leave those panties and the heels on when you climb on my dick tonight. Alright, Kitty?

“Yes, Daddy,” Kat purred as she sunk down to her knees and crawled between Negan’s legs, hooking his ankles around her hips. “But first I wanna taste Daddy’s big, juicy cock.” She peeled his fingers away from his cock and balls, pushing his hands down on the mattress on either side of his hips. Despite all their little roleplaying, Kat was never one to be totally submissive, and Negan loved it. Kat always took as much as she gave.

Settling back comfortably, Negan watched as Kat gripped his thighs with her hands and pushed his legs even further apart. Her mouth dropped down and littered his thighs with suckling kisses, leaving hickeys in its wake. The tip of Kat’s nose trailed over the ‘v’ of his hips after the drag of her lips. Kat’s breath was damp and warm on his sex, a ghost of what her mouth would feel like, and Negan couldn’t wait. Kat loved to tease as much as Negan did, but Kat had infinitely more patience than him. Negan would always get needy and whiney first when he was with Kat, but that’s just because she knew exactly how to get him going with the simplest of touches. “Come on, Kitty Kat,” Negan cajoled her, “I’ve had a rough damn day. Don’t be so fucking mean to me. Daddy doesn’t deserve that from his Kitty Kat. Be fucking sweet for Daddy.”

“Oh, I know Daddy, don’t worry.” Her nails bit into his skin a bit, warning him to be patient. She soothed what pain their might have been with sweet kisses. “I’ll be sweet for you, Daddy, because you’re always so sweet for me.” And to prove her point, she tongued the slit of his dick, swiping away the pre-cum beaded there. She moaned at the flavor, playing it up, because really Negan’s come was bitter, but still better tasting than most come Kat has tried. Kat licked at him again, and Negan head dropped back. “So fucking juicy, Daddy.”

Then Kat’s mouth was chasing Negan’s dick into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head. The head of his cock was dragged over her kiss-swollen lips as if she were applying lipstick, periodically flicking her tongue out to taste him. His pre-come glistened on her lips like a gloss, messy how he liked it. Her eyes met his, and his eyes were dark and smoldering with barely contained lust. “Fuck, just like that Kitty-Kat. Your mouth is fucking perfect and feels damn amazing. Shit.”

With a smile on her lips, she dragged her tongue all over him, as if she were painting a picture. Each stroke of her tongue alternated in pressure, sometimes so teasingly light as a feather and other times suckled at the sensitive under gland just right. Kat was playful with his cock, letting him beat it against her face, and nuzzling at it affectionately with her nose as she took his balls into her mouth for some worship, too. Still, she continued to tease, not yet giving him the suction or pressure that he needed. Negan was going to have to beg her for it if he wanted that.

And beg her he most certainly did. “Fuck me, Kitty Kat, please just suck on my dick. You’re busting my blue balls over here. I ought to fuck your pretty mouth until I punch your teeth down your throat with my dick for how badly you’re abusing me. Fuuuck, please, Kitty Kat.”

Anything but bothered by Negan’s nearly incoherent babbling, Kat finally gave him what he wanted and took his length into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down rhythmically. She had no problem taking his considerable length since she just loves fellatio. It’s an art to deep throat while fighting the gagging reflex and being able to catch all the come on one’s tongue.

Often, she laved it with little kitten licks, small and wet and soft. It was her specialty, and how Negan gave her her cute little nickname. Each wife had a different one. Sherry was ‘Puppy Dog’ since she acted like such a bitch, so it was more facetious than sincere. Amber was simply ‘Baby’ since she was the youngest and shyest. So on and so forth. Truthfully, Kat was grateful for the differentiation between them. Negan never got their pet names mixed up, and they all liked that.

Now, though, that got Kat thinking about what Amber called her.

Fucking sycophant bitch. Amber wants to call her that and a kiss-ass, well, then by all means Kat should prove her right.

Buckling down, Kat sucked Negan harder, and eased him all the way down until the bridge of her nose could nestle against his pubic bone. The maneuver had her eyes watering, but it was worth it when she swallowing and the head of Negan’s cock bumped against the back of her throat, choking her just right.

He had been grunting like a porn star so far, but at that he found his words again, “Oh, fuck, Kitty Kat, you know that makes me come, God! Fucking do that shit again! Fuck! I’m gonna come!”

So, she did it again, and again, and then finally Negan did shoot his creamy spurts down her throat, which she gulped down happily. Kat lived to please him. For all his shallow thrusting and the sinful noises that poured so quickly and easily from his lips, she was more and more aroused herself. She was glad her panties were crotchless, because otherwise, they’d be soaked.

Pulling away, his cock slid from her mouth, and Negan sighed. Kat licked her lips at him and hummed, “Fuck, Daddy, that was so sexy. You tasted so good, and you’re so big. I fucking love your big cock.” She batted her eyelashes at him, smiling. Her smile pressed kisses on his thighs again as Negan basked in that warm bliss after a killer orgasm. But she was far from finished with him.

Reaching down at the apex of her thighs, Kat gathered up her own arousal on her fingers. Soft and sweet kisses tickled at his thighs, and she admired his clean taste and the scent of soap still clinging to his skin. Slowly, she played with herself, winding tighter, but not close enough to distract herself from what her mouth was doing. She dragged her tongue from the back of his knee all the way up his inner thigh right to his – “Kitty Kat, Kitty Kat, Kitty Kat,” Negan chanted at her, “What are you doing?”

Taking her time, Kat let her actions answer his question first as she circled her tongue over his tight ring of muscle. She pressed her lips to him and sucked, snaking her tongue out to lave him with saliva, traces of his come smearing around his little hole. Fresh from the shower he was clean for her, and there was no taste other than the usual flavor of Negan’s skin. Kat liked this. Negan did, too, apparently. He trembled against her, but didn’t pull away, as equally intrigued by the sensations. Her tongue ventured in shallowly, flicking, and Negan grunted.

Withdrawing briefly, Kat finally explained, “What does it look like, Daddy? I’m kissing your ass. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

Before he could answer her, Kat dived back in, her tongue strokes more confident now. She pressed her face closer to him, and Negan helped her by gripping his thighs and ass in his hands and spreading himself for her. Kat backed away for a moment to breathe and take in the pretty picture, and she had to wonder if this … this pride is what Negan felt when a beautiful lady did the same for him. “Oh, you’re so handsome, Daddy. So beautiful. Has anyone ever kissed you ass as good as your Kitty Kat?” Her mouth returned to him to continue the tongue-fucking as she waited for his response.

“Fuck,” Negan gasped, voice hoarse but pleasant to Kat’s ears. “Fuck, I’ve touched myself there loads of damn times. Used a few kinky toys, but no one has ever – fuck!” His speech broke off into a series of groans as Kat’s index finger gently slid inside. The insertion was made easy by her spit and her own fluids of arousal. Curious, she slid in to the hilt, twisting her finger and curling it, searching for his prostate.

“Oooh, fuck, Kitty Kat right fucking there!”

Well, she had found it. She stroked, watching in rapture as Negan bowed his back, head so far thrown back that she could no longer see his handsome face contort in pleasure. The grip he had holding himself open made his knuckles go right and his skin pinch and redden from the force. Negan’s cock, just flaccid a few moments ago from his orgasm, was now hard again. It laid untouched and twitching on his stomach. The head of his cock nestled into his navel teasingly, his pre-come generously leaking and catching in his happy trail.

As Kat continued to curl her finger, loosening him up in preparation for me, her other hand had three fingers already buried in her cunt. She’d hold off her orgasm for now, but if she timed this right, they both could come simultaneously. Until then, she curled her fingers and circled her thumb around her clit, teasing herself. Kat didn’t think he needed her rubbing his cock for him to come like this.

“Please, please, fuck, Kitty Kat, more. I need more. I’m so fucking close!” Negan hissed through his clenched teeth, jaw ticking, tendons in his neck standing out in full relief.

In response, she giggled and obliged him with another finger. She scissored him now, really stretching him out, deliberately neglecting to touch his prostate again. “So close already, Daddy? All for me? Your Kitty Kat is gonna stretch you so wide, Daddy, but you love it, don’t you?”

“Yessss,” he hissed eagerly, and his jaw was wound so tight Kat was actually afraid that he would accidentally crack a molar. “Fucking pound me with your fingers, I can fucking take it. I want more, goddamn it!” Negan pushed his hips forward, so demanding. Kat expected as much from him considering how bossy he normally was anyway.

Very pleased by how responsive he was, Kat gingerly slipped in a third finger and vigorously thrust in and out rather than curling. Her other hand was doing the same now, and her thumb was tapping against her clit. Both of them were very close, but whereas Negan babbled about his oncoming orgasm, Kat got very quiet and very still. Negan meanwhile shook like a leaf, and squirmed his hips around, his inner walls clenching around her fingers tightly. He was just a huge ball of nerves, whining and desperately rocking against her fingers, his cock neglected and nearly purple now as it begged for release.

Kat rocked harder into her own hand, sucking and biting hard on her bottom lip to muffle her sounds. All she wanted to hear was Negan’s keening and the obscene sound of their mutual wetness as her fingers plunged, pillaged, and plundered for their sweet spots. She could sense when they were both on that precarious precipice, nearly there, nearly there. And then she crooked her fingers, rubbing hard against her G-spot and the same movements were repeated with Negan’s prostate.

Despite the delayed reaction, Negan came first, his come reaching all the way up to just under his freshly shaven chin in three thick spurts. Uncaring about the mess, he shouted her name and various other vulgarities and profanities loudly. His curses echoed off the wall, and Kat believed that they could be heard throughout the whole Sanctuary. And she wanted everyone to hear him, from the wives to the walkers so that they would all know that she did this to him, that only she could bring him so much pleasure –

And then she was coming at that thought, thumb ruthlessly mashing down on her clit. She squirting into her hand, the fluids puddling on the floor beneath her. “Oh, Daddy,” she squealed, and rode through her orgasm, prolonging it and squeezing out another albeit smaller one.

Negan was going on a similar journey, hips still gently rocking into her hand, milking her fingers for another orgasm. He was just greedy that way, so damn insatiable. Kat wouldn’t have him any other way. Well, he got his wish, and more come was spurted on his chest, curling around one of his erect nipples. With that last weak orgasm, he relaxed around her fingers, too tired to do anything else.

Pulling her hands away from him and herself, Kat examined her hands with interest. The pads on her fingertips were slightly wrinkled and very, very wet. She licked herself clean, trying to remember how to think and how to breathe while she did it. Then she shakily climbed to her feet, knees sore from kneeling for so long, and muscles pleasantly relaxed. She leaned over Negan, examining him proudly, a smug look on her face and a smirk tugging her lips. The look was very reminiscent of the expression Negan normally wears, but the tables were effectively turned tonight without a doubt.

Docile and sleepy, Negan laid on his back and dropped his legs down, fingers still in a curling position, though he clutched nothing but air. His chest was heaving hard, and it made the come on his torso drip down to the bed, though he couldn’t find the energy in him to care. He stared up at her with half-lidded eyes and a parted mouth, a tempting sight for Kat despite having orgasmed so intensely already.

“Oh, Negan, such a mess.” Kat shook her head at him with a smile, and gathered up his come with her fingers. She scooped it up to his mouth, tapping it against his lips, and Negan’s tongue came out and weakly flicked at her fingertips. She knew he liked the taste of himself, and she didn’t stop feeding him his come until most of the big spots were collected. “There you go, all gone.”

Then Kat climbed on the bed, and flopped beside him. She herself had made a mess on the floor that Negan would probably make her lick up later, but she figured it could wait for now while they cuddled. Negan got cranky without his cuddles, too, she knew for certain.

“Kitty Kat?” Negan finally drawled as he pulled her into his side.

“Yes, Negan?”

“I think I’m going to toss my other wives for you.”

Surprised, Kat went still and quiet, unsure of how to process this. If she weren’t so damn tired, she’d drag herself up to look at him, but in lieu of that, she just waited for an explanation.

Sure enough, Negan explained unprompted, “None of those others can satisfy me like you fucking do. The whole point of me forming my harem was so that I could get pussy whenever I fucking wanted. I’ve got a voracious fucking sexual appetite, you know. But those other wives, they don’t fucking do it for me anymore. It’s like a damn chore with them. That’s what masturbating is for, for shit’s sake.

“Besides that, those bitches are just horrible. So damn bratty and too much effort to maintain. They cause too much damn trouble for me, and they can’t follow the rules I set for them. They aren’t loyal, they aren’t sweet to me, they aren’t worth the hassle.” His tone shifted to something softer as he continued, “Not like you, Kat. You do so much for me that I don’t expect you to. It’s fucking nice to be treated like I’m human. To just fucking let go and relax and trust that someone else can handle something. I’m always fucking large and in charge and as much as my ego sings and that gets me hard, it can be fucking stressful. But with you, it doesn’t have to be that way all the time, and I just fucking love being with you.” Earnestly, he insisted, “I love you, Kat.”

Now she finally did find the strength in her muscles to push herself up. She stared at him hard, and he gauged her reaction, his gaze steady. “I love you, too, Negan,” she finally admitted. It felt good to do that. She’d wanted to say it for so long and saying it now, knowing he felt the same, it felt so right. It was as if the world had stopped shifting around beneath her feet and just clicked into place. Kat finally knew where she stood with him.

Negan smiled at her, his tongue poking out a bit between his teeth, and his eyes were crinkled at the corners in his glee. Dimples flashed at her, his smile blinding, and he just beamed and beamed and continued to beam. “Tomorrow,” he promised her, “I’m going to send the wives to the new guy, Eugene.”

“A test?” Kat hazard a guess.

“To see how fucking loyal they can be,” Negan confirmed, “and a test for Eugene, too. See if he can find the damn light and recognize just who is on the winning side here.”

Kat nodded her understanding, the conversation lapsing into silence. Negan made the first move, leaning in for a kiss. Despite their mouths being equally filthy, they kissed anyway, and it was languid, drinking each other in, tasting themselves on each other. It was a heady experience. Finally, Negan pulled back, grinning mischievously. “Now,” he began, “about that ride, my little Ass-Kisser.”

“I prefer the term ‘sycophant’,” She countered him with a smile as equally wide and bright as his.

“Get the fuck over here, Kitty Kat.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

#negan #negan's thirst squad #ash's round 3 negan challenge #NTS #NTS fics #negan fanfics #fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #submission

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intrepidolivia · 7 years

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Hey There Little Red Riding Hood

This is a late entry for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash‘s fanfiction challenge.

My prompt was Little Red Riding Hood. I took a lot of lines and inspiration from the song Hey There Little Red Riding Hood by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs.

Pairing: NeganXOlivia

Warnings: Negan’s filthy mouth. Smut, smut, smut!!!

Summary: On her way to drop off supplies, Olivia runs into a big bad wolf.

Olivia zipped up her red hoodie, settling her backpack of supplies more comfortably over her shoulders. It was getting later in the year, the days growing cooler. It wouldn’t be long before it started to frost in earnest, and not much longer after that travel would be difficult.

She had no idea why some people insisted on living away from the community, but delivering some supplies got her out of the compound, and she’d begun to feel a bit claustrophobic of late.

Generally the area was far enough out that the dead didn’t wander into the woods. Even so, she kept a machete strapped to her hip, and stayed alert as she walked the familiar path toward the old cabin. Muriel was a stubborn old lady, she had to give her that. She wasn’t about to leave her home, even if the dead were rising. So they took turns bringing her food and medical supplies, and just checking on her.

Olivia sort of loved the old crackpot. Mouth like a sailor, and quick to pull out a double-barreled shotgun. She had to be a hundred and twelve, and showed no inclination toward dying anytime soon. She’d probably outlive all the rest of them.

It was a beautiful day to be out, sun streaming through the trees, sending shafts of golden sunlight to pool on the forest floor. It made the whole place look enchanted. It was easy to forget that the world had ended, and easy to believe you were in a fairytale.

She’d walked a mile when she realized she was being followed.

The footsteps behind her stopped when she did, and whoever, whatever it was seemed always out of sight when she turned around to peer back down the path. Not a dead man, then. No, this hunter was clever. Her heart beat quicker as she walked, straining to hear the extra footsteps.

Maybe… maybe it was just one of the men from her compound. Giving her some space but trying discreetly to keep her safe.

Maybe it was a wolf. Or a mountain lion. She wasn’t at all certain what might be native to this particular stretch of land, but it could be anything in all honesty. Up to and including a lion escaped from the zoo.

Olivia quickened her pace. She’d gone too far to double back now, and it would be quicker and safer to get to Muriel’s than to try to go home.

She walked fast, trying to appear calm and confident while she listened for noises, and kept a wary eye on her surroundings. Did she see a shadow between trees to one side? Did she hear a branch break?

She was so focused on listening, and looking to either side, she very nearly walked into the man standing in the path in front of her.

He was tall and handsome, with wicked, dark eyes. He was better dressed than most people were since the apocalypse, his leather jacket impeccable, the red scarf around his neck spotless. He was armed, of course. Everyone was if they knew what was good for them, though she didn’t often see barbed-wire-wrapped baseball bats. He carried it slung casually over one shoulder, clearly accustomed to having it there. The man grinned, and the only way she could describe it was ‘wolfish.’ Just a little too wide, a few too many teeth.

“Well well well,” he drawled, his dark eyes raking over her. “What do we have here? Where you going, Red? It’s dangerous for pretty little things to go walking alone.”

Olivia hesitated, looking up at him and trying to hide her nervousness. “What’s it to you?” Sure, he was handsome, but she wasn’t about to trust him.

He raised his eyebrows, putting his hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Oh my, why so defensive, darlin’? I’m merely a concerned citizen.” There was a dark and dangerous spark in his eyes, and it sent a thrill through her belly at the same time as it warned her to run away. He took a casual step toward her, licking his lips as though she were something delicious. “No need to be nervous, doll. I don’t bite. Not unless you ask real nice.”

Despite herself, she giggled at that, blushing as she looked down. It really wasn’t fair, him putting that image in her head. Not when it had been so long since she’d been with anyone that way. Or met anyone she wanted to imagine being with.

The man chuckled, sauntering over to her. He caught her chin in his fingertips, lifting her head to look up at him. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Negan.”

“I’m Olivia,” she said breathlessly, before she could decide if she really ought to be talking to him.

His face was inches away. Close enough she could feel the warmth of his breath across her cheeks. He studied her for a long moment, looming over her. “Well I’m fuckin’ pleased as punch to meet you, doll,” he purred. “And I must say, you are fuckin’ hot as hell. It would be a damn shame if you were to run into trouble, what with you walking in these spooky old woods alone. If I’d been a wolf, well. I just might have eaten you up.” His voice dropped as he spoke, and he leaned in slowly, keeping his hand on her chin. “I’m tempted to do that anyway.” His beard brushed her cheek as he whispered the last sentence, his lips soft at her ear.

Her breath caught in her throat. She felt blood rush to her cheeks, her heart hammering. Somehow, she had her back to a tree. She didn’t remember moving, but somehow he had her pressed against the trunk of a huge oak, his body close, so close she could feel the heat coming off him. She laid a hand lightly on his chest, the shiny black leather warm and smooth on her palm.

He pulled back, amusement dancing in his dark eyes and wolfish grin. “But I can be a perfect gentleman too, doll. Up to you, Red. Would you like me to walk you to grandma’s place and make sure you get there safe and sound?” His gloved hand slid along her jaw and tangled through her hair, pushing the hood off.

Olivia bit her lip, looking up at him coyly. “How do I know you’re not dangerous?”

He laughed at that, his hand fisting in her hair. In a moment, he had her pressed hard between the tree and his chest, his grip on her hair forcing her head up and to the side, exposing the long, pale lines of her throat. His voice was a growl in her ear. “Baby, I am incredibly fucking dangerous.”

She closed her eyes, shuddering with lust. Oh, yes, she ought to run. She ought to run fast and far before this man devoured her. But maybe she wanted to be devoured. She moaned softly, and she knew there was no mistaking the desire in her tone.

He slid his lips along her throat, planting surprisingly tender kisses along the way, until his mouth was at her ear again. “Sounds like you like a little danger.”

“I do,” she breathed. Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. She nearly dropped her bag.

Slowly, his hand released her hair, sliding back along her jaw as he pulled back, smiling down at her. “Then I should definitely walk with you and make sure you’re safe from any predators.”

She licked her lips, caught between nervousness and need. “What about you?”

Negan laughed, showing his teeth. “Me? Oh, I’m fuckin’ gentle as a lamb, baby. Baa.” He nipped her lower lip, stepping back to give her room to collect herself.

He was everything she knew she should run away from. A strange, dangerous man in the woods? He might as well have been a wolf.

She knew that. She knew she shouldn’t have been alone in the woods. But suddenly she was rather glad she was.

Negan grinned again. He’d backed away, but was still close enough she could feel the heat of him. “What big eyes you have, Red. No need to be nervous… Even bad wolves can be good. And I can be very, very good..” He winked, and leaned down, catching her lips with his.

She couldn’t help herself. He was so very handsome, so sexy in his leather jacket, and those jeans that just skimmed over his slim hips. He might be a bad man. A very bad man. But for the moment she couldn’t even consider that. All she could think of was the heat of lust that he kindled low and deep in her belly.

Olivia dropped her bag. It landed softly, in a pile of autumn leaves at the base of the oak she leaned back against. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her, her small hands circling around to his tight ass. She pulled him against her, feeling the hardness of him against her belly.

His kiss was aggressive. All teeth and tongue and need. His beard dug into her skin as he kissed her hard, and she was sure she would have abrasions from it. It was hard to care though. If she were honest with herself, the moment she laid eyes on her big bad wolf, she wanted him.

Negan growled against her skin, pushing her back into the tree. His hands tangled in her hair and grabbed at her hip, needy, wanting, demanding.

He broke the kiss finally, staring down at her, his eyes predatory “God damn, Red. The things I wanna do to you right now…”.

Olivia stared up at him, a little afraid but nevertheless determined. “Try me,” she whispered.

Negan grinned, showing entirely too many teeth. “I’m gonna eat you up, doll.”

Before she could react, he was on her, pushing her onto the ground, soft leaves on her back. His big hands found the fastenings on her jeans, pulling them open, sliding them down her hips. He pushed up her shirt, kissing down her belly. His beard rough against her skin, scratching, prickling, his lips and tongue warm and soft.

Olivia gasped, tangling her fingers in his dark hair. It had been some time since anyone had touched her that way, and the craving made every kiss electric. His dark eyes flicked up to watch her as he nipped over her panties, hooking his fingers in the band.

“Last chance, Red,” he purred. “The big bad wolf is about to have his way with you.”

The pause was almost intolerable. She arched her back, hands clawing at the leaves under her. “Do your worst.”

Negan chuckled, and in one swift motion ripped her panties down, yanking her legs free of her pants entirely. Before she could react, he lowered his head between her thighs.

She gave a ragged gasp as his soft, hot tongue found her. His hands clamped on her hips, holding her steady as his tongue and lips teased her folds and the sensitive little pearl of her clit. She realized she never stood a chance. The man knew exactly what he was doing. In moments he had her arching her back, scrabbling at the ground under her. She was sure she would be heard from Mildred’s all the way back to her settlement as she cried out in need.

He was unhurried, teasing her slowly, just enough to make her squirm and moan, but stopping just short of pushing her over the edge. Each time she got close, it seemed, he changed what he was doing. She forced her eyes open, glaring down at him, and saw the amusement in his dark gaze. He was playing with his food.

Finally it became too much to bear. She reached down, tangling her fingers in his hair, hoping to urge him on, hoping to push him to finish what he’d started. Instead, he stopped, his hands catching her wrists.

“Patience, Red,” he admonished, lifting his head.

She moaned with frustration and need, but his grip was firm. He moved to his knees over her, pushing her hands down on either side of her head. “Be a good girl, and you’ll get what you want,” he told her. He grinned, leaning down to kiss her lips roughly, before he pushed her shirt up.

The autumn air was cool, and she felt her nipples react to the change in temperature, hardening and pebbling. Negan drew back, looking down at her appreciatively.

“Like what you see?” she teased.

“I sure fucking do,” he smirked. He put his big hands on her breasts, feathering his thumbs over the sensitive nipples, making her groan again. He squeezed, and she arched, gasping as his grip tightened to just barely painful. He watched her face intently as he played with her body, learning what touches got the most powerful reactions.

She was almost ready to beg by the time he unbuckled his belt, pulling open his jeans. He was big, and already hard, his length springing free the moment he pushed down his pants. She pulled in a breath as he moved over her, his hands clamping over her wrists again, holding her down as he pushed himself inside her.

He wasn’t gentle. She hadn’t expected him to be. His movements jostled her on the ground as he pounded into her, his teeth at her neck, his breath against her skin, his voice growling dark and delicious things into her ear.

His big hand reached between them, his thumb teasing at her clit as he pounded into her, kissing her deeply. Every movement made her body tremble. She felt the tension coiling hot and desperate deep inside her. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, panting raggedly.

“I… I’m gonna…” she gasped.

His reply was a growl in her ear. “Come for me, babydoll.”

It took hardly any time at all. She arched her back, sucking in a desperate gasp as she felt her orgasm crash over her. She screamed, unable to contain herself as the pleasure took her, dragged her under. She squeezed around him, arched under him.

Negan thrust hard into her, riding her through her orgasm and burying himself inside her with a roar, spilling his climax inside her.

Slowly, they both relaxed. Olivia lay panting under him, sweat speckling her chest. Negan nuzzled into the crook of her neck for a moment, kissing her skin gently before he finally pulled out of her with a shudder.

“God damn, Red. That was fucking intense.” He grinned down at her, tucking himself away again and reaching down to help her up. Negan kissed her again, hungrily, and helped her pull her clothes on again.

“Yes that was,” she purred. She zipped up her hoodie again and took his offered hands, letting him pull her to her feet again. She looked up at him coyly, laying a hand on his chest.

He chuckled, laying his hand over hers. “So, Red. Should I walk you the rest of the way to grandma’s place?”

She giggled. “I’d like that Mr. Big Bad Wolf. Will I be seeing you again lurking in the woods?”

Negan grinned that toothy, wolfish grin and raised her hand to his lips, kissing and nipping at her knuckles. “Oh, little red riding hood, I look forward to eating you up again and again.”

#flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash #ash's round 3 negan challenge #negan #the walking dead #twd negan #smut #fanfiction

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redheadedwhat · 7 years

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The Big Bad Wolf

This is my entry for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash 3rd Negan Writing Challenge. I chose the Little Red Riding Hood prompt. Let me know what you think!

Title: The Big Bad Wolf

Pairing: Negan x OFC

Rating: NSFW (Explicit sex, violence, and language.)

It had been nearly three months since Tallulah had arrived at The Sanctuary, and overall she felt she was acclimating quite well. To be fair, her ‘job’ wasn’t very difficult. It mostly consisted of looking pretty and keeping Negan happy and entertained, but anyone who knew Negan knew that he wasn’t always the easiest man to please. Luckily, there were two other women who shared Tallulah’s responsibilities, so she also had quite a bit of downtime.

At first, upon her arrival and for a few weeks after, she had remained upstairs in the wives’ quarters, keeping to herself and only interacting with those that came up there. Eventually, though, she grew bored and began to wander. She would walk through the compound and see what she could do to make herself useful. She didn’t want to take a job away from anyone that needed the points. Her disabilities limited her, but there was always something to be done. Most of the time she would read or sing with the children in the day care or do something simple yet time-consuming in the kitchen. She even helped out Doctor Carson in the infirmary every so often.

Today she had a very specific task in mind. An old woman that worked in the kitchen, affectionately referred to as ‘Grandma Jo’ by most of The Sanctuary, had gotten sick overnight. Not only did she need medication and a few days off, but the doctor had recommended nebulizer treatments, which required even more medication and the use of electricity or batteries to run the machine. Needless to say, Grandma Jo did not have enough points for it all, and, at her age, leaving an illness untreated could cause permanent damage or even death.

Tallulah knew that not everyone could be saved nowadays, but she was determined to convince Negan to help out Grandma Jo. She put on the little red and white sundress that he seemed to like, packed him some lunch, and headed across the courtyard to find him. There were a few new arrivals today, and while not everyone met with Negan himself, he did like to personally interview any that had Savior potential. Tallulah figured he must be almost done by now. Even if he wasn’t, he would surely be up for a break when he saw how her boobs looked in that dress. If not that, then he would definitely stop to eat the pumpkin pie she had brought. She was pulling out all the stops. Luckily, there were only two men waiting outside for him, so he would be done soon. Tallulah smiled at the men and gave them a polite greeting as she headed for the door.

“Where are you headed to, Little Red?” asked the bigger of the two men as they both moved to block her way. “Stay and chat with us for awhile.”

They both licked their lips as they looked her body up and down.

“Bringing lunch to my husband,” she said, motioning to the basket of food in her hand. “I’m Negan’s wife.” Tallulah was not too proud to use the ‘wife’ card to get herself out of trouble.

The men just chuckled and continued to leer at her, “Sorry, not buying that one, Little Red,” the big one grinned at her as he moved closer. “We met Negan’s wife earlier. Pretty little thing called Sherry.”

Shit. Her eyes darted around the courtyard, but she didn’t see any Saviors around or anyone else that could come to her aid. She’d never thought twice before about walking around the Sanctuary on her own. From the moment she’d arrived, Negan had made damn sure to let everyone know that she was his, and therefore off-limits. Unfortunately, these men had either not been told the rules, or they didn’t care.

“Well, she’s his wife, too,” Tallulah shrugged, trying to side step around them, but was blocked by the two men.

The smaller of the two grabbed the basket she was carrying, pulling it out of her grasp and opening it up. “You got some nice stuff in here, Little Red,” he sneered menacingly, “I don’t think you’ll mind sharing now, will ya?”

“I don’t think that’s all Little Red here will be sharing,” the bigger one guffawed, looking her up and down and grabbing her arm when she tried to move away again.

“You’re going to regret this.” Tallulah warned him. She wasn’t trying to be tough. It was just a matter of fact.

The bigger man just laughed at her, pulling her closer to his body and letting his gaze drift down to her chest. Tallulah was not a particularly gifted fighter, but she was going to try her damnedest anyway. Taking advantage of his distraction, she clawed at his face with her free hand and stomped on his foot as hard as she could.

“You fucking bitch!” the bigger man roared, his hand flying up to his face in shock. “We were being nice to you, Little Red, but now you’ve unleashed the Big Bad Wolf!”

Tallulah braced herself for the hit she knew was coming, but the blow never came. At that moment, the door behind them swung open to reveal an enraged Negan, leading a pack of Saviors.

“What the fucking fuck is going on out here?” he barked.

“This bitch just went crazy on us!” the big man exclaimed while his friend nodded in agreement. “She was coming on to us real hot and heavy and then just flipped out. Little Red here is dangerous, man!”

“You know, I find that kind of fucking hard to believe, seeing as ‘Little Red’ over there is my fucking wife,” Negan gritted out. “And the scratches on your face seem to prove your story is total fucking bullshit, but since I’m such a fair guy, I will ask my dear wife if this was a consensual encounter.” Negan then turned to Tallulah and asked, “Tallulah, did you want this slimy fuck and his dumbass fucking friend pawing at you?”

“No,” she answered, giving a curt shake of her head as angry tears began brimming in her eyes.

Negan took her by the hand and led her to stand behind him, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze before turning to face the men again. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

“We didn’t really think she was your wife-“ the big one started to explain, realizing he was in deep shit with a giant, baseball bat-wielding maniac.

“It doesn’t fucking matter who you thought she was,” Negan cut him off before he could say anymore. “We don’t treat women like that here. They say ‘no,’ and you fucking fuck off. No rapey bullshit.”

“We get it, man,” the smaller man nodded frantically. “We’re sorry. Lesson learned.”

“No, lesson is most certainly not motherfucking learned,” Negan corrected him, pointing Lucille in the frightened man's face. “Since you two seem so fond of fairy tales, I’m going to clear up some fucking misconceptions that you assholes seem to have. This,” he gestured to Tallulah who was still safely ensconced behind him, “is not Little Red Riding Hood.” He turned a bit so he could see both Tallulah and her attackers while he spoke. “She’s more like Rapunzel. A princess that’s supposed to stay in her fucking tower, but always manages to escape and get into trouble.”

Tallulah frowned at that. She didn’t usually get into trouble, and it wasn’t her fault that these guys were assholes.

Negan gave her a wink to let her know that he didn’t blame her and continued on with his speech. “If she’s not Little Red, then you are most fucking certainly not the Big Bad Wolf,” he sneered. “Around here, I am the Big Bad motherfucking Wolf, and Lucille here,” he hoisted his beloved bat onto his shoulder, “is my Little Red.”

The two men nodded along to everything he said, even if they didn’t quite understand the point of what he was telling them. They were just hoping that they made it out of this with their skulls intact.

“That brings me to the problem of who the fuck the two of you are in this fucked up Grimms tale,” Negan pondered. “If you want to try being the Big Bad Wolf, I’ll oblige you, because, as I said, I’m a fair fucking guy,” he grinned at the smaller man who had paled and started shaking at receiving Negan’s full attention. “In one version of the story, the woodsman cuts open the wolf to rescue Grandma and Little Red Riding Hood.”

With a vicious gleam in his eyes, Negan unsheathed his knife with a flourish and plunged it into the smaller mans belly. Negan cut the man open from stomach to sternum, pulling his knife back before the man dropped to the ground.

“Nope, no Grandma in there!” Negan chuckled and turned his attention to the bigger man, who by now had literally pissed his pants in terror.

“Please don’t!” the man gasped. “Please, I’m sorry!”

“Oh, I’m not gonna do that to you,” Negan assured him with a wave of his hand. “You have a much more important part in this story.”

The man continued to whimper as Negan leaned in closer, pressing the sharp barbs of Lucille’s wire into the man's cheek.

“You get the honor of fixing a grave inaccuracy in my fucking story,” Negan told him with sadistic glee. “My Little Red Riding Hood is missing her most defining feature. She’s. Not. Red.”

Quick as lightning, Negan struck the big man in the head with his barbed wire wrapped bat, instantly bringing the man to his knees. With a second sickening crack the man collapsed to the ground, dead.

Negan hit him a few more times for good measure before raising his bloody bat aloft and triumphantly shouting, “Now that’s what I call a red fucking riding hood!”

With a smile still on his face, Negan turned to the rest of the men, “Let this be a fucking lesson to any of you that arrived with those two assholes. If you don’t like my rules, you can get the fuck out right now.” When no one said anything, he continued, “Great, now clean this shit up.”

Without waiting for an answer, Negan grabbed Tallulah and pulled her inside with him, taking her to the room where he conducted most of his interviews and locking the door behind them. After gently placing Lucille on a table to later be cleaned and re-barbed he turned to his wife. “You alright there, Lulu?”

Tallulah just nodded somewhat dazedly, still shaking a bit.

Negan silently removed his bloody gloves and jacket, never once taking his eyes off of her. He noticed her flinch slightly as he moved closer to her and sighed. “You afraid of me now?” he asked her in a calm, steady voice.

“No,” she shook her head and reached out for him, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest. She’d never seen him kill a living person before, but that wasn’t what had her shaken up. She knew what kind of man Negan was, and she had heard all about the things he’d done. She also knew that he would never hurt her. He lived by a code, and, for the most part, he followed his own rules.

“Then what’s the matter?” he asked, rubbing her back with one big hand and holding her closer with the other.

“I just forgot what that felt like,” Tallulah admitted. “I haven’t felt scared of just walking around by myself since I got here. I look outside every day to remind myself of what’s out there, but I forgot that people can be monsters too.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that shit again,” Negan insisted. “When people see what I did to those two fucks, no one will even dare to think of fucking with you.”

Tallulah didn’t bother pointing out that the same thing could happen when new, uninformed people came to the Sanctuary. The people here already knew the rules. She was alive and hadn’t been hurt, and that was all that mattered.

“There’s one part of the fairy tale that you missed,” Tallulah peeked up at him while loosening her grip around his middle and letting her hands skim over his sides. Maybe she was extremely fucked up, but something about being in danger and having Negan get so angry and vengeful while protecting her had kind of turned her on.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, his stance relaxing a bit as he took note of the change in her demeanor. “What’s that?”

“Well, after the woodsman cuts open the wolf, he fills him with stones so the wolf can’t run away,” she explained. “But since we’re mixing up our stories a little bit, maybe the Big Bad Wolf could put something as hard as stone in me instead?” She smiled up at him shyly, pushing her breasts together with her arms and cupping his dick through his jeans.

Negan grinned and backed Tallulah up a few steps until she bumped into the desk that was up against the wall. He picked her up and plopped her down onto the desktop, stepping between her legs and letting his hands push the bottom of her dress up. “Is this my reward for being your gallant fucking hero?”

“I thought the Big Bad Wolf was the villain?” Tallulah teased.

“I’m Big Bad Negan,” he rasped into her ear, kissing and nibbling at her neck while his hands moved to pull her dress completely off. “I can be both.” Negan’s eyes went wide, and he licked his lips when he noticed that she only had a tiny pair of panties on underneath her dress. “My, my grandma. What big fucking tits you have,” he laughed.

“Don’t call me that,” Tallulah wrinkled her nose and reached for his belt, “No more fairy tales. Just fuck me.”

“Are you sure?” Negan teased, allowing her to open his pants and reach for his dick while his hands were occupied with her breasts. “I wanted you to say, ‘What a big dick you have,’ so I could say, ‘the better to fuck you with, my dear.’”

“Please stop talking!” she laughed. Negan just chuckled and obliged her, pressing his lips to her own as she stroked his cock.

Negan ripped off the tiny excuse for underwear that Tallulah had been wearing, and sank a thick finger inside of her. “Fuck, you’re wet Lulu,” he groaned and reached into a desk drawer to pull out a condom.

“Adrenaline, I guess,” Tallulah shrugged, wiggling her ass to the end of the desk. “Don’t frightening situations usually make people want to fuck?”

“Sometimes,” Negan agreed as he slid the condom over his erection. “But I think watching me go all caveman on those fuckers got you hot. You liked seeing your man fucking protect you, didn’t you?”

Tallulah didn’t answer him; she just shifted her hips a bit, trying to rub against him and get him to finally enter her.

“Uh-uh,” Negan teased, rubbing his cock against her entrance, but not going any further. “Not until you tell me the truth.”

“Negan!” she whined, pulling him closer and taking his shirt off to rub her breasts against his chest.

Negan groaned at the feeling of her hard nipples against his skin, but he didn’t stop teasing her. “You know what I want to fucking hear, Lulu.”

“Fine!” she gasped out as his thumb began playing with her clit. “It turned me on to watch you defend my honor or some shit, now will you please get on with it?!”

“Oh, baby, you say the sweetest fucking things,” he laughed, grabbing her legs to pull her to the very edge of the desk and finally slide into her.

“Yes!” she hissed, wrapping her legs around his waist and laying back on the desk, not caring that pens and papers were flying everywhere.

Negan picked up the pace and watched her breasts bounce as he slammed into her, making sure to stimulate her clit at the same time. She’d only been with him for a couple of weeks, but he already knew how to play her body like a fiddle. When he felt himself getting closer, he leaned down to lick, suck, and bite her breasts, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder so he could go even deeper.

Tallulah gasped and shut her eyes, ignoring the temporary twinge of pain that went through her back at the shift in position, in favor of concentrating on how amazing he felt so deep inside of her. She was able to let go of all the fear, anger, and humiliation she experienced just minutes earlier, and just feel.

Negan would not have been the kind of husband Tallulah would have chosen before the world ended, but residing in the fucked up world they currently did, she was glad that she had accepted his offer.

“Fuck!” Negan grunted. “I’m gonna huff and puff and blow my fucking load!”

Even if he did, quite often, ruin the moment.

Tallulah arched her back as she came with him, gripping the sides of the desk and biting her lip to keep down the noise. After a few more thrusts, Negan let her leg slide back down to the desk and half-collapsed on top of her, his sweaty chest pressed to hers as they both caught their breath. Finally, Negan gave Tallulah’s throat a kiss before pulling out of her.

“Fuck, that’s a nice way to end my fucking boring-ass interviews,” he grinned, looking her over as she laid nude and exhausted on his desk. He pulled the condom off with a snap, tied it off, and tossed it into the garbage can before putting his dick back into his pants and zipping up.

“Come on, lazy bones,” he chuckled when he saw that Tallulah had not moved from her position. “As much as I enjoy the sight of you spread out across my desk, I know you didn’t just come here for a mid-afternoon fuck.” He then grabbed her around the waist to help her to her feet. Her legs were still a bit shaky, so she held onto him for a few moments before moving to retrieve her dress.

“Negan, you ruined my underwear!” she complained, tugging the dress over her head and bending to pick up the shredded piece of fabric.

“Yes, I fucking did,” he growled as he ran his hand up her leg and onto her backside, pushing her dress up so it was visible as she bent over. “You didn’t seem to fucking mind at the moment.”

Tallulah swatted his hands away and pushed her dress back over her butt. “I can’t walk around the Sanctuary in a dress with no underwear on!”

“You can wear my coat,” he offered.

Even though being offered Negan’s precious leather jacket would probably be seen as quite an honor around The Sanctuary, Tallulah cringed slightly at the thought. “Isn’t it bloody?”

“Well, I’m not giving you my shirt,” Negan insisted, going over to put said shirt on while checking out the jacket. “I’m not gonna walk around with a leather jacket on and no t-shirt like Rico fucking Suave.”

“That would be a pretty good look,” she laughed.

“So, why did you come to fucking see me?” Negan asked, grabbing a rag to wipe the worst of the blood off of his jacket for her. Normally he wouldn’t have been so accommodating, but the girl had just been through an ordeal, and he was almost always in a damn good mood after partaking in some sex or violence.

“I was bringing you some lunch,” Tallulah told him. “But one of those assholes took it from me, and now it’s probably covered in brains.”

Negan looked up from cleaning off a blood spot and smirked at her. “So you came all the way down here in that fucking tiny dress, that you know makes my dick hard, wearing only the world's smallest fucking pair of panties underneath, just to bring me a fucking sandwich?”

“Well…” Tallulah blushed. “Perhaps I had a bit of an ulterior motive,” she admitted with a smile. “Also, it wasn’t just a sandwich. There were chips, pickles, and I even packed a slice of pumpkin pie!”

“Pumpkin pie?” Negan sighed wistfully. “Those fuckers got off too easy.” He finished cleaning up his jacket and put it around her shoulders. Luckily, it was long enough on her that it would cover her butt and she wouldn’t have to worry about flashing the world her ass. “So what do you want, Lulu?”

“Grandma Jo is sick,” she began, “She needs medication and some time off, and she doesn’t have the points. I was hoping we could work something out.”

Negan let out a heavy sigh and looked his wife in the eyes. “You can’t save everyone, Tallulah.”

“No, I can’t,” she agreed. “But I can save Grandma Jo.”

“You’re fucking lucky I’m in such a good mood,” Negan joked. “I won’t give in so easily next fucking time.”

“This was easy?” Tallulah questioned. “I got assaulted and practically traumatized! In fact, I probably deserve two favors.”

“Don’t fucking push it, Lulu,” Negan laughed. “But, maybe to ease your trauma you can stay in my room tonight,” he suggested. “We can defile some more fairy tales.”

“Deal,” she smiled, her body practically humming in joy at the prospect of a round two. “Now, can we go talk to Doctor Carson and tell him he has to save Grandma Jo?”

“Sure,” Negan agreed, unlocking the door and opening it for her to step out in front of him. If he hadn’t just killed two men in cold blood, he would’ve been worried about someone calling him weak. Using up important resources on a sick old woman just because one of his wives asked him to was almost the definition of pussy-whipped, but at that moment, he just couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. “Let’s go save Grandma Jo.”

Most of the time Negan was the Big Bad Wolf, and he fucking liked it that way, but every once and awhile there was no harm in playing the hero. Why the fuck not?

-----

A huge thank you to @lucifers-trash-stash and @ashesashleyweallfalldown for helping me out with this fic!

Thanks for reading and please feel free to send me any comments/questions/critiques you may have.

@negans-network

#ash's round 3 negan challenge #negan x reader #negan x oc #Negan's thirst squad #negan fanfiction #the walking dead negan #negan's network #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction

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crzcorgi · 7 years

Text

Savior Needed

This is for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash Ash’s Round 3 Negan Challenge. My prompt was Over The Rainbow. Once again, thank you Ash, for letting me join!

Eventual Negan x Reader (y/n)

2200 words

No warnings just a bit of angst with Negan language

I will be writing more to this if it’s wanted

Tagging ~ @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @negans-network

“Get this shit loaded, times a fucking wastin’!” We were heading out on a dual purpose, restocking an outpost, and checking on a community we had brought into our midst, problem was it was being lead by a couple of shitheads and they had to be constantly watched due to their incompetence.

“Where the fuck is y/n?” I yelled at Simon. Y/N was one of my Saviors, one of the best. Not only was she highly fucking skilled with most weapons, her hand to hand abilities were on a level all their own. I depended on her, more than I fucking cared to admit.

“I dunno, boss. She’s usually one of the first out here. Maybe she had a busy night, she was really throwing back that whiskey we found on the last run.” Simon shook his head, snickering.

“Well, we need her, so somebody better go fucking get her.”

No one moved. “Fine, I’ll go get her myself.” I stormed off towards the door. Fucking incompetents.

As I entered the main hall, I glanced around, hoping to see y/n without having to hunt her down. Fuck, no sign of her.

I made my way down the hall where her room was. When I reached her door, I began knocking.

“Y/N, get your ass up and out here, doll! You’re fucking late!” I leaned into the door listening for movement. Nothing.

When she first came to the Sanctuary I gave her the usual speech I give new residents. Most don’t have a choice of jobs, a few with certain talents become Saviors, like y/n. But my biggest regret was not giving her another choice, become my wife. There was something about her which fucking attracted me to her. But that something also made me not give her the choice.

After the third time of knocking, I tried the knob, locked of course.

“Are you looking for y/n, sir?”

“Jesus fuck! You scared the shit out of me!” I turned to see a janitor.

“I’m sorry sir, I was just mopping the floor around the corner and heard you knocking. Y/N isn’t in there.”

I sighed. “Okay, so where is she?” Why the fuck I had to draw it out of him was pissing me off.

“She left last night, said you knew.”

“Left?! Like left her room or the fucking Sanctuary?! Tell me everything you know, now!”

He looked scared, good. “Uh, well, i met her in the upstairs main hall last night, she was pretty wasted.” He sniggered. “So I offered to help her back to her room.”

Fuck. I moved closer to him, making use of our height difference, staring down at him, lightly swinging Lucille.

He backed up a bit, his hands raising upward. “Totally on the up and up, sir! I really like y/n, she’s one of the few Saviors that’s nice to me, I wouldn’t take advantage of ‘er, I promise!”

I stood down, leaning back against the wall, bringing Lucille down to rest on my boot.

“Continue, but make it quick.”

“Well, like I was saying, I brought her back to her room. When we got here, she asked me to wait while she packed some things.”

“Packed? Did she fucking say why? And just cut to the fucking chase, where did she go?!”

I had a fucking feeling exactly where she went, but I needed to hear him say it.

“Okay, well she had me help her out the gate, said it was some kind of super secret recon you had her going on and that I had to keep tight lipped about it, which I have sir, promise!”

Fuck, I knew it.

Y/N POV

Attempting to climb out of my bed I realized I wasn’t in my bed, or any bed for that matter. As I tumbled down out of the tree I had been asleep in, I realized what a stupid fucked up idea it was to sleep in a tree.

I stood up I prayed to whatever was up there that I didn’t fracture anything, everything seemed to be in working order.

But it really didn’t matter. I honestly didn’t care. I was done. Done with running from a past I’d never escape. Done with the pain. Done with wishing for something, someone, I could never have.

Yeah, no one truly wants to live in this world. No one. But most just keep living the life, trudging along, existing the best they can given the less than stellar circumstances.

But I didn’t want to live in the world before this one. I didn’t belong in it. And I most certainly don’t belong in this one.

I’m cracked, broken, and really only the whole can survive, should survive. I’m a big fat fucking waste of space, of resources.

So now I was finally manning up and doing something about it.

Negan’s POV

I took off upstairs, running out to the trucks.

“Simon, send a bunch of our trusted fuckers out to do the work. I need you, D and a couple of others to come with me, y/n took off.” I closed my eyes, wiping my hand down my face in frustration. I wasn’t mad, maybe a bit pissed off. But I knew why she left. And I was going to stop it.

I had talked to her a couple of times on long runs when we either rode together or were camped out for the night. She never really opened up much about her past, I mostly pieced shit together and guessed at it. Once we Simon, y/n, Arat and I had enjoyed a bit too much of the alcohol we had found, she opened up. I think she thought she was just talking to Arat. I didn’t catch it all, but what I did hear made my skin crawl. And wishing a fucking painful death on some shitheads.

As we headed down the road, Simon and I in one truck, Dwight and the others in another, we scanned the woods for anything out of the ordinary.

“I’m not surprised she fucking bolted.”

“What did you say Simon? Fucking speak up.”

“I’m not at all surprised she left, that’s all. She’s a troubled girl.”

I turned in my seat, enough to look Simon in the eyes but still checking out for y/n. “And what the fuck does that mean exactly?! Everyone is fucking troubled Simon, what makes her any different?”

“She’s just so unhappy, she said it herself. You’ve heard her. She never hangs out with anyone, always holed up in her room. Fuck, every guy in the Sanctuary wants to bang her and she just fucking scoffs at ‘em. And I know for a fact she swings that way.” He laughed.

I scowled, I knew what Simon was saying, and I was fucking pissed. “And how the fuck would you know that Simon?!”

“I think you know, boss, you have 6 fucking wives, you understand how things work.” He looked over at me, laughing, then stopping quickly. “Holy fuck! You’re really pissed! I knew it!”

I turned to give my undivided attention to looking for her. “I’m just pissed that one of my Saviors has run. One of my best, nothing else Simon. Eyes on the road.”

“Mmhmm, sure thing.” Suddenly the truck swerved, coming to a stop.

“What the fuckity fucking fuck man!”

As I glanced over to him I saw a figure walking through the trees.

“I’d know that ugly ass purple backpack of her’s anywhere. And I don’t think she sees us yet.” Simon laughed.

As Simon started to step out of the truck, I grabbed his arm. “Let me go alone.”

He nodded as I stepped out of the vehicle. Grabbing Lucille, I made my way quietly in the woods, trying to make as little noise as possible.

“Good try Negan.”

I swung around to see y/n standing almost directly behind me.

“Fuck doll! How’d you do that?!”

She laughed, swinging her bag around to grab a flask. As she uncapped it, she kept her eyes on mine. When she finished putting her bag back on her shoulders, she spoke.

“Go back Negan. Go back to where you belong. Just let me go. Please.”

“No can fucking do sweetheart, you’re a Savior, no leaving, it’s a fucking life sentence.” I grinned at her.

She turned, heading further into the woods.

“I’m not coming back, so get used to it.” She sat down on a rock taking her sneakers off. “Fuck, I hate blisters.”

“Carson can take a look at those, get your feet all fucking fixed up.”

Looking up at me, she laughed.

“Just give it up Negan, I’m gone.” She shook her head, pulling out a pair of socks.

I sat down next to her, watching her pull on her socks.

“Is it really that fucking awful, living at the Sanctuary?”

“It isn’t that Negan, it’s just…I don’t belong there.” She looked up at me from tying her sneakers.

Fuck, why isn’t she my wife?

Sighing, I spoke. “Now what the fuck does that mean, sweetheart?”

She finished tying her shoes, sitting up and pulling a granola bar out of her bag.

“I’m not “Savior” material, Negan. Every time I call myself that I can’t help but laugh. I am far from anyone’s savior.” She then offered me a piece of her bar.

“No thanks doll. As far as being a Savior, you are the fucking best of the best. You have saved many, do not fucking sell yourself short. I…uh…we need you.”

She laughed. “Yeah, no, you’ll do fine without me.”

She was beginning to fucking frustrate me.

“Look y/n, how about we make a fucking deal. You come back for a week. After that time, if you still want to leave, I will throw you the biggest going the fuck away party you have ever seen!”

She looked like she was thinking about my offer. “Why do you care? I don’t understand?”

“What does that even fucking mean?” I brought my hand up, rubbing my neck.

“Why do you care about me? I’m just some fucked up girl that you all found like some orphan animal on the side of the road. I’m nothing special. Laura, she’s great with a crossbow. Arat, she’s a wizard with the blades. But me, fuck Negan, I’m scrappy but you’ve got lots better. And they belong there.” She looked down at the ground, kicking up the dead debris.

What do I say? That she’s a fucking valued member of the Sanctuary? That her skills are needed as a Savior? While that may be fucking true, is that the reason I want her to return? I want to believe that, but I knew it was something else. I needed her.

“I know you don’t fucking believe me sweetheart, but you DO belong there, more than a lot of those fuckers. Let me know what it will take…”

Suddenly y/n jumped up, pulling a long blade out of her pants, knocking me over as she hurdled over me. I turned over on the ground to see her taking out a couple of fucking walkers, her blade buzzing through the air. Grabbing Lucille, I joined her smashing skulls.

“To your left, Negan, there’s more coming!” She yelled through heavy breaths. “Where the fuck is Simon, I saw him with you?!”

As I headed over to the half dozen or so fuckers heading our way, I knew doll could handle the few fuckheads that were left. At least I thought so, until I heard her scream just as I Lucille’d the last walker.

“DOLL!!!” I ran as fast as I fucking could jumping over the carnage. When I reached her, I realized it wasn’t a fucker walker that got her, as there was a fucking arrow in her chest. I bent down to pick her up, as careful as I could, her cries of pain almost as painful to me as to her.

“I know sweetheart, I’m so fucking sorry, but we need to get you back to Dr. Carson, so just hold on, okay?”

“Put me down…please…leave me. Just…go…Negan.”

I ignored her pleas, there was no fucking way I was letting her die.

“SIMON!!! DWIGHT!!!! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”

Simon appeared from behind a tree, a look of shock on his face.

“Fuck! What happened?!”

“What’s it fucking look like Simon?! She was fucking shot! Is this D’s arrow?” He better hope it isn’t.

“No, none of us shot anything that way. Fuck boss, she don’t look so good.”

Y/N scoffed. “Thanks… Simon…for that…for…the confidence in… FUCK!”

My arm was getting soaked from her blood and her tears. “Negan…I’m begging…you…PLEASE, just…let me die!”

“I’m not leaving you doll, you can keep fucking begging. You can hate me, I’m not letting you die.”

We got back to the truck and Simon took a hold of her while I climbed in, gently taking her back into my arms.

No words were spoken, not until her small voice pierced the silence.

“Somewhere over the rainbow…way up high…there’s a land…that I heard…of once in…a…a lullaby.”

“Doll?”

I know Simon thought this was it, his fucking sad face looking over at hers, then up at mine. But he was wrong. She was going to be fine. She had to be.

…to be continued?

#negan #ash's round 3 negan challenge #negans-network #negan's thirst squad #flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash #negan fanfiction #negan fanfic #negan x reader #negan x you #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan #crzcorgi writes #crzcorgi crz 4 negan

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sherrybaby14 · 7 years

Text

The Games We Play

Summary: This is my submission for Ash’s 3rd challenge! My prompt is “Nipple Clamps” @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash Warnings: NSFW, Smutty smut smut smut, Characters: Negan, OFC, a little bit of Simon Dedication: This is for @thecynicalnerd based on their request Tags: @negans-network @mwesterfeld1985 @mac5323 @kellyn1604 @miiraal @marauderice @alyisdead @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @blondesouthsquad @dead-head-joker @theonethatgotaway213 @daintyunicorn @enchantingoblivion @prettyepiic @grimes-slut (If you don’t want to be tagged/want to be tagged lemme know!)

Word count: 4K

The people in the Sanctuary hung their heads as they made it to the common room, some were shaking, others biting back tears. Wren flipped her long black hair behind her shoulders and held her head high, practically a skip in her step. The smile kept wanting to come forward, but she tried to bite it back.

While everyone here assumed a punishment was coming, the stench of hot flesh about to fill the air all Wren could think about was the new game that was about to start. Boy did she love a good game. They’d been playing for a few weeks now, each round more enjoyable than the last. It was impossible to know when a new match would begin, since Negan was responsible for initiating the exchange.

When she finished with work for the day and saw the bag on her bed her heart almost burst with glee. There was a simple pink sundress, it wasn’t fitted and hung on her like a bag, but it made her frame look smaller and she felt sexy in a modest way.

Wear THIS to the meeting

That was all the instructions she had, but the hint wasn’t lost on her. The dress was baggy enough anyone who was taller than her could look down and get a clear view of her breasts, if she rolled her shoulders forward than the outline of her nipples would hit the stiff fabric, making her lack of a bra obvious. To counter it she wore her hair down, either letting the locks cover her breasts or block the taller members of the Sanctuary’s view.

She had to watch it too, because as soon as she saw the bag her arousal went into full gear. Without any underwear the wetness was starting to coat her thighs. If the fabric of the dress rested against her she was certain a giant wet spot would form.

Of course on some level the scratchy fabric of the dress and the way her mind wandered only increased her libido and showing off her chest was too tempting that she found herself flipping her hair back again.

Half of the game was going to be sitting through this meeting, and that would be torture for Wren. Nobody could know about their entanglements. Negan made that very clear before they even started playing. Wren wasn’t a wife, and had no desire to join the harem. This was just two adults, having fun with each other.

Knowing it wouldn’t be a public act disappointed Wren a little. She wouldn’t mind putting on a show, if that was what Negan wanted of course, but their sport wouldn’t begin until they were alone and her mind raced to guess what today’s event was.

A giddy shiver went down her spine as she rounded the corner. A woosh sounded and before Wren could turn her head an arm gripped her waist, on instinct she went to scream but nothing but a muffle came out as a hand covered her mouth. In a second she was yanked backwards into a darkness, the light disappearing as the door slammed shut behind them.

“I want to hear you scream, but not yet baby girl.” Negan’s breath was on her ear.

The momentary fear was replaced by heightened lust and Wren bit back a moan.

“That was too easy.” Negan dropped his hand and spun her around. She couldn’t see a thing in the dark room. “You dropped your guard.”

“I assumed we were waiting until after the meeting.” Wren placed her hands on his chest and tried to go up for a kiss. She was down for some dark, closet sex.

“We are.” Negan pressed a finger to her lips.

Wren stilled as he ran his finger down her chin, she tilted her head back as he continued his path down her neck, then to the strap of her dress, pushing it off one shoulder. Negan ran it back along her clavical to the other strap and with a small flip of the finger that strap went down too. Even in the darkness Wren shut her eyes as the garment pooled at her feet.

“Always such a good girl.” Negan ran his hands down her side, his fingertips barely touching her. She let out a whimper when he stopped at her waist. “If you think you’re turned on now baby girl, just you wait.”

“I don’t want to wait.” Wren brought her hands up around his shoulders. “If I’m so good why not reward me now?”

“Don’t you worry sweetheart; your reward is on its way.” Negan’s wrapped his arm under Wren’s ass and lifted her in the air.

He took a step backwards and her back hit the wall. Wren expected him to kiss her, but he pushed her up higher, so she was way too tall to meet his lips. Then she felt the wetness of his mouth on her nipple. His tongue sucked and flicked and a moan came out as she ran her hands through his hair and tried to buck her hips, hoping to have some pressure on her pussy as it grew damper by the second.

Negan ignored her and moved his head to her other breasts and repeated the action. Wren could feel herself pulsating with need. This was torture.

“EEP!” A small scream escaped her mouth as pain exploded on her left nipple.

She slid down the door and Negan’s mouth was on hers, blocking any other noise from escaping. Her hand went to her ease her nipple, but he intercepted her grabbing her wrist. The pain was constant and tears stung at her eyes. Negan broke their kiss.

“No screaming this time.”

The feeling of metal clamping down on her right nipple hurt worse than the left. Wren’s eyes about bulged out of her head and again she went to relieve her aching bud. The arm that held her up disappeared and grabbed her right wrist, causing her to almost collapse on the floor. She let out a huge wince and bit back the scream as she tried to twist her body away.

“Breathe baby.” Negan raised her wrists in the air and Wren stood up straight.

“These hurt.” She twisted her body, hoping he would drop her wrists. “Take them off.”

“Do you want to forfeit?” Negan squeezed her wrists. “Declare me the winner?”

Memories of the intense orgasm the man had given her made Wren immediately shake her head no.

“Good girl.” Negan let go of her wrists.

Wren looked down and saw the silver clamps in the darkness, making each of her nipples look like they were in a little cage. She whimpered again and lifted her hand, ready to release the torturous pinching.

“Arms up.” Negan held her dress in his hands.

With shaky confidence Wren lifted her arms and the dress lowered down over her. She gasped as the fabric ran across her clamped chest and almost fell forward. This was a new sensation for her and the increase in sensitivity was obvious. Once the dress settled Negan pulled her against him. Another bout of pain exploded as she pressed hard against his chest. His mouth covered hers once more as he made it impossible for her to pull away.

Then his tongue invaded hers and he began rolling it, making her weak in the knees and feeling overpowered once more. She felt a finger run across her slit and let out a half moan/half cry as it disappeared before she had the chance to take any pleasure.

“You think you’re wet not, wait until after the meeting.” Negan put his hands on her shoulders and spun them around, so his back was to the door. “If you can’t make it through the entire meeting with those things on. You lose. You lose.”

“What happens if I lose?” Wren fidgeted in the dress, hunching her shoulder’s forward so the fabric wasn’t pushed against the clamps.

“Then we don’t play anymore.” Negan gave her a kiss on the head. “Wait five minutes.”

Before Wren could respond he slipped out of the closet. She brought her hands up to her chest and cupped one of her breasts. She bit her lip so hard she was sure it was bleeding as pain radiated down her body. Less pressure was better.

There wasn’t a lot to look forward to in the new world, not a lot to take pleasure from, but damn did Wren take pleasure from Negan and she was not about to give that up. The man wasn’t bluffing. He was gorgeous and she would have been an idiot if she didn’t think there weren’t ten women ready to take her place. Besides, she enjoyed the kink. She took a few breaths and tried not to focus on the little silver contraption biting at her flesh. Soon her breathing calmed and she became aware of the pulsing. Her nipples were straining for relief, but before she could whine in frustration she realized that wasn’t the only thing pulsing.

Her cunt was going crazy, she swore that her juices were dripping down to her knee. Negan was right. These things were tortuous in more than one way. She ran her hands over her face and could only guess how she looked. Her eyes were probably glassy with need, her hair slightly messy from Negan pushing her against the door, her lips swollen from the biting, and if the scent in the closet gave her any idea she was reeking with arousal. It was going to be rough getting through this meeting.

Deciding five minutes had past Wren stepped into the hallway. She rolled her shoulders back, but immediately regretted it as the clamps hit the fabric again. The burst of pain was dulled now and the reaction caused her pussy to drench even more. She kept her shoulders forward and tried to position her hair to block the view from the top, but she couldn’t help looking down herself. Seeing the little cages making her buds look even redder. There was a spot of each for a chain link and Wren’s mind immediately wondered why he hadn’t chained them together. She heard stories about people adding weight to nipple clamps and her body responded to the thought with an immediate shudder. She would be grateful he hadn’t gone that route.

“Well well look who decided to grace us with her presence.” Negan’s voice broke Wren’s concentration.

She looked up to see the entire Sanctuary staring at her. She was late to the meeting and wandered in without even noticing. Her eyes glanced for a seat, as her cheeks flushed with shame.

“Come on Wren, these people deserve an explanation. Why are you late?” Negan was on the stage in the center of the room. “Were you in a pinch?”

He had his million-dollar grin on. Nobody laughed at his joke, so at least Wren knew it was just for her pleasure or torment.

“I don’t want to squeeze any more of the people’s time.” Negan pointed to the front row. “There’s a seat right here for you. Don’t get tweaked, I won’t bite.”

His words were making Wren even more turned on. She shuffled her feet, wanting to pin her thighs together as she walked. There was no way she would make eye contact with him, or else it might cause her to break out in an orgasm in the middle of the room. Her cheeks flushed red as she took the seat.

“I should nip this behavior in the bud, but I’ll wait until after the meeting.” Negan locked eyes with her and she resisted the urge to moan. “Once we’re done here you stay clamped to that chair.”

She shut her eyes and nodded as all her private areas throbbed with need. While to most it was a threat, Wren knew it was a promise for relief. One that she desperately required.

“Well then,” Negan turned his attention away from her. “Let’s get started. As you may or may not know…”

Wren’s nipples were about the only thing she could pay attention to at the moment. The ache was such a new sensation she couldn’t tell if it was from pain or pleasure. She became aware of her heavy breathing and that the rise and fall of her chest was causing the clamps to brush against the fabric. Wren jotted her shoulders forward and tried to take smaller breaths.

“…what may seem like an uncomfortable situation is actually for your benefit.” Negan’s voice came back into focus and a breathy mewl escaped Wren’s throat. “The longer you have to wait for something, and the more you endure to receive it, the greater the reward.”

She swore the man only called this meeting as part of their game, since so far nothing of value had been said. It felt like the clamps were getting tighter and she rose her hand again, not carrying for a moment if she took them off in front of all these people. After all, she was in the front row, would anyone notice but Negan?

“Don’t lose.” Negan paused and Wren’s hand stopped. “Hope.”

She cringed and quickly put both of her hands underneath her, she would not lose. If anything it seemed like Negan wanted her to win.

“You have some fuzz on your shoulder.”

Wren’s eyes shot open and she looked towards the whisper. Simon reached his arm across her and flicked her shoulder. His arm dropped against her chest as he pulled it back towards him, making her abused buds rub harshly against the fabric.

“Ahhhh.” She tried to keep it quiet, but the stimulation resulted in another bought of pleasure and she squeezed her legs shut.

Negan’s right hand man gave a chuckle. Wren's glared daggers at him and he shrugged. There was no doubt he was aware of her predicament. She glanced down and saw the silver clamps, certain he got a clear view multiple times in the last few minutes.

“He went with the clovers.” Simon leaned over and whispered, his arm draping across Wren’s front again. He pulled it back slowly this time, so that her nipples barely touched the fabric of her dress. “I told him to start you off with magnetics.”

A gasp escaped Wren’s mouth. Simon raised his eyebrows at her several times.

“….important we share.” Negan had Wren’s attention again. “We’re a team here, and three minds are better than two.”

Wren knew she should be horrified, Negan intended on bringing in another player, but one look at Simon at her pussy started clamping down on nothing. The tall slender man initially caught her eye, she found his attitude almost as sexy as his body, but he came off even more unapproachable than Negan had. If the man in the leather jacket thought this would cause her to quit he seriously didn’t understand the rules.

Her lip was still puffy from the initial bite, but she looked at Simon with the same cloud of lust Negan caused earlier as she opened her mouth, silently begging him to take her, right here, right now in front of a room full of people. The clamps were too much and she felt like she was going to spontaneously combust if someone didn't aid her with the wetness between her legs.

“Fuck.” Simon leaned closer to her and put an arm around her shoulders, his hand grazed her right nipple as it hung down. “You are a little freak.”

She tried desperately to squeeze her legs shut, certain that everyone around could smell her arousal, but her back arched and she wanted to press her breast into Simon’s hand, even though it would send a shock of pain she knew it would give her something to focus on other than the need to cum.

“So ladies and gents of the Sanctuary, keep calm and place nice with each other.” Negan scratched his head. “Or whatever, just get the fuck out of here. Meeting is done.”

There was a rumbling through the crowd, Wren could only assume the only people who understood the reason fro the meeting were her, Negan, and now Simon. She turned her lustful gaze to the man on the stage. He was kissing one of his wives on the cheek and an unexpected feeling of rage went through her.

“So you do get jealous?” Simon whispered in her ear. “Good, our man was starting to think you weren’t that into him.”

Even with the ache and need pulsating in her body Wren registered what he said and turned towards him with a confused look.

“Oh come on.” Simon moved his hand and pushed her long hair over her shoulders. “He didn’t invite me to the party for his benefit. Negan knows what a little deviant you are. You drive him crazy enough he’s willing to share.”

Wren had a mindset that this was all a game, but what if it wasn’t? What if she finally found a man who recognized her kinks and knew what she needed? A threesome had always been a fantasy of hers, one she never confessed. The fact that Negan saw that and planned it was almost enough to make her orgasm. Almost.

Instead a pant broke free and she bit her lip again, crossing her legs in the hope that she could cause enough friction to get herself off. SMACK! Pain exploded from the clamp as Simon slapped her breast and she managed to hold down the scream, clawing at the chair underneath her.

“None of that.” Simon pointed a finger at her. “Wait your turn.”

She was surprised he did that in front of everyone, but then she looked around and they were the only ones in the room. The sound of the door locking echoed across and she caught eyes with Negan as he strutted back towards them.

“Lose the dress.” He dipped his chin and there was no other word to describe his glare but predatory.

Wren didn’t fight as Simon pulled her wrists and then raised the fabric over her head before tossing it on the floor. She glanced at the garment and there was an unmistakable wet spot as predicted. She looked down at the glossiness of her thighs and this time moaned loudly as she dropped to her knees.

Simon stood up as Negan approached, both of them standing in front of her.

“I think little miss Wren liked her new toys.” Negan traced his fingertips around the clamps. “But you didn’t think that was the only present did you?”

Wren was panting now, but knew the best way to show her appreciation. She reached up and grabbed Negan’s fly, undoing the zipper. His cock popped out at full mast and she wrapped her mouth around the tip, greedily flicking her tongue up and down. She kept her eyes open and didn’t take too much in as she moved her hands to Simon. Keeping her eyes on him she undid his pants next. They fell to the floor and a groan escaped her lips when she saw the boxers.

“My baby girl likes a man commando.” Negan chuckled and pet the back of her head. “It’s Simon’s first time darlin’, he’ll figure it out eventually.”

The other man quickly pushed his boxers down and a moan escaped her lips at the size of his cock. It wasn’t as thick as Negans, but was about the same length and looked just as delicious. She replaced her mouth with her hand and moved to Simon, greedily taking his length in.

“Fuck!” Simon threw his head back. Wren looked up at him as she swallowed more of his length.

Her hand continued to stroke Negan, spreading her saliva and his pre-cum up and down his shaft.

“Looks like baby girl wants to take more of you.” Negan placed his hand on the back of her head and pushed her forward.

Wren felt her pussy quiver as she swallowed repeatedly, thankful for Negan’s guidance it didn’t take long before Simon was hitting the back of her throat. She worked her tongue, finding this much easier with a thinner cock. She felt so powerful as Simon let out a moan. Then strong hands came up her sides and cupped her breasts. A scream came involuntarily as Negan kneaded her mound. The clamps tightening on her nipples.

“I’m not going to last long if she keeps that up.” Simon’s dick got even harder in her mouth.

“I don’t think any of us are.” Negan let go of her breasts and the ache spread from her nipples to her clitoris, which was desperate for attention.

She was on the verge of an orgasm for at least twenty minutes. The lust made her so hysterical she hadn’t even realized Negan’s cock was no longer in her hands, and they were both pressed against Simon’s thighs until Negan was kneeling behind her.

“What a good girl.” Negan bit her shoulder and rammed his full length into her.

Wren saw stars. His insertion was all she needed and the orgasm crashed into her. She dug her nails into Simon’s thighs as she bobbed her head up and down on his cock, making sure to deep throat him every time. The moans reminded her to breath through her nose and soon Simon was spasming down her throat. His thick white liquid pouring out in ropes directly into her stomach.

She wanted to suffocate, knowing the lack of air would only intensify her orgasm, Wren greedily sucked his seed down with gulps.

“You know you’re a fucking clamp yourself doll.” Negan bit her ear and then she felt him blow inside of her.

Another scream erupted as his orgasm triggered the aftershock of her own. Simon pulled out, lucky he did because her jaw snapped shut as she tried to ride out the waves of her own pleasure for as long as possible. She wasn’t sure if she blacked out or was too focused on her euphoria to notice, but she blinked her eyes open and saw she was on her back, each other men completely nude on either side of her.

“Don’t get ready to throw in the towel yet baby girl.” Negan traced his hand on her stomach. “That was only round one.”

Wren licked her lips in anticipation. She noticed both men staring at her chest and looked down to see the silver clamps still present.

“You do know nipple clamps have two stages right?” Simon grabbed her breast.

To Wren’s surprise it was numb. She was too used to the pain.

“Bring it on.” She dropped her head.

“Oh she has no clue what’s coming.” Simon gave a laugh.

“Personally, I like taking them off better than applying them.” Negan nodded his head.

Pain like Wren had never felt racked her body. There was no holding back the scream as Negan and Simon both simultaneously removed a clamp. Her nipples throbbed like their was no relief possible as the blood rushed back to them. All the euphoria vanished from her body.

Then each of them took a poor abused nub into their mouths and began sucking. The pain vanished almost instantly and black and red danced in front of her eyes as their mouths helped the blood return. Wren never saw it coming but her pussy started fluttering as the orgasm shot from her chest down to her clit. It was intense and came in waves, she was certain that the feeling of pleasure would never end and she would have to spend the rest of her life in a euphoric haze.

Even though it was wrong, right now she was glad the world went to shit. Never in her old life would she have found an opponent as worthy as Negan, nor one that was aware they both could win.

#ash's round 3 negan challenge #negan #negan's thirst squad #negan fanfiction #smut #simon's thirst squad #negan twd #twd fanfiction

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amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes · 7 years

Text

Reap What You Sow

Author’s Note: Oh dear, I’m late and I do apologize. This is my second prompt and second submission for #Ash’s Round 3 Negan Challenge. My prompt was Negan x Sasha.

Word Count: 2,127

Paring: Negan x Sasha

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, some angst when you realize how I set it up. I hurt my own feelings tbh.

Tags: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @genevievedarcygranger, @negans-network

The breeze felt good against her warm skin. The hot Georgia sun had been unforgiving and a breeze was hard to come by. Sasha closed her eyes and tried to make the moment last as long as she could. If she could bottle the breeze and carry it around with her, she would. Closing her eyes, she felt the intensity of the wind die down and she knew her small reprieve from the heat was coming to an end. Oh well, at least she had something. And something was better than nothing.

Sitting in the driver's seat of the old pickup truck, Sasha took a deep breath and smiled. The soft smell of lavender filled her lungs and seemed to clear her mind. Exactly what she needed. This had been her favorite hiding spot. There would be many a day where she would sneak off with snacks and water and books and sit in the truck for hours. Not having any doors to restrict her movements, the truck was positioned in the perfect location so she had a good vantage point; she could hear the Geeks approaching and she’d see the living before they’d see her. She found it by accident on a scavenge trip with Aaron and it became her get away. Perfect for when she needed to be alone and clear her head.

Like now. Too much was going on at home. First issue was that Rick wanted to attack this group of people we didn’t know based solely on the word of another group of people we also didn’t know. And second there was trouble in paradise. Or as close as paradise would get nowadays. Abraham and his indecisiveness was diving Sasha crazy. One night he’s leaving Rosita and the next he’s back in her bed. Sasha snorted at the thought and tapped her fingers on the wheel. All this stress was enough to drive one to drink.

“Stupid men. Who needs them?” Sasha grumbled to no one in particular.

“Yeah, stupid me. Fuck em. Amiright?” a deep voice responded causing Sasha to nearly jump out of the truck. She didn’t hear anyone walk up on her and she instantly became upset with herself that she left herself be snuck up on. In a instant her hand was on the gun at her waist and she pointed it at the direction of the voice. Peeking out of the driver’s side, she saw a tall man leaning casually against the trunk bed. He was dressed in a white tee shirt with black jeans and black boots. A knife was fastened to the belt loops of his jeans and over his shoulder he had what looked like a baseball bat over his shoulder. Sasha eyed his cautiously as she pointed her gun at him. He smirked at her, not seeming to be alarmed that she was pointing a gun at him.

“Well aren’t you a beauty.” he complimented as he eyed her up and down slowly. Sasha frowned as she continued to take a mental note of him.

“Who are you?” she asked as he unceasingly drank her body in. She was on the verge of clearing her throat to bring his attention to his her face when he finally brought his eyes back to her face.

“I’ll be whoever you want me to be.” he replied, his deep voice seductive. Sasha scoffed and lowered her gun but still kept it poised in his direction. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pointing a gun at you.” Sasha gestured towards the gun before looking back to him.

“And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m pointing one right back at you. Except, you can’t see mine. But if you ask nicely, I’ll let you see it.” he mocked, gestured towards his crotch. Sasha scoffed again and shook her head. She assumed that this new man must have been crazy since he was out wandering alone with just a baseball bat as protection. She figured that maybe she’d try to get some information out of him.

“Hey mister. Do you know anything about a group called the Saviors?” she asked as she moved the gun to rest against her hip, the barrel pointing towards the ground. Sasha studied his face and watched for any signs of deceit. Tilting his head to the side, he looked at her curiously.

“What about the Saviors? Who wants to know?” he asked amused. He shifted from one foot to the other and moved the bat to tap on his boot. Sasha was stunned to see that the bat was wrapped in barbed wire and eyed it warily. His eyes followed her gazed and lifted the bat so she could get a better look. Sasha reflextafly took a step back and her fingers twitched around the gun’s trigger.

“This is Lucille.” he announced proudly while pointing the bat and extending it towards Sasha. “And she is awesome.” he finished, speaking affectionately of the bat. Sasha nodded and for the briefest of moments she contemplated shooting him coming to the conclusion that he must be insane. Relaxing her grip on the gun, she studied him. He was handsome, there was no debate about that with hazel eyes that conveyed boyish charm but there was also another element there that was sending warnings to Sasha that she couldn’t decipher.

“So beautiful, you got a name? Why are you out here all alone and why do you want to know about the Saviors?” he asked taking a step forward, reaching the back passenger side of the truck. Sasha eyed the bat again as he began to twirl it now in his left hand away from the truck.

“Name’s Sasha, I’m taking a break and I just wanna know.” she answered matter of factly with a shrug. “What’s your name? Where are you from?”

“Me?” he pointed dramatically to himself. “I’m Negan.” he said proudly. Sasha sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes and the man looked at her with genuine dismay. Seeing the look on his face was the fuel for her fire and she let herself laugh.

“So you’re a Savior. That’s why you asked why I want to know. God, everyone is Negan.’” Sasha laughed ironically. Eyeing the man who stared back at her just as confused, Sasha put her gun away. “You’re not gonna tell me what I wanna know so why bother? Just go.” she sighed as she climbed back into the truck, its worn polyester having cooled from her missing body heat. She placed her elbows in the nooks of the steering wheel and rested her head in her hands. Just what she needed, more stress. The man walked to the driver side and leaned against the area where the door should close and watched her quietly.

“What if I want to stay here with you a little longer? Shoot the breeze and whatnot?” he spoke low leaning close so she could hear him. Sasha snorted with indignation and turned her head to look at him, her head still near the wheel.

“You're a Savior.” she responded matter of factly. He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a ‘so what if I am’ look. Inching closer to her, he brushed against her thigh and Sasha froze. Side-eyeing him, she lifted her head from her hands and propped her elbows up on the wheel. “What are you doing, mister?”

“What was that you were saying? Men being stupid or what-fucking-ever?” he asked flashing her a brilliant smile that nearly threw her off guard. Sasha withdrew into herself and placed her head back into her hands. His comment brought back all the thoughts of Abraham and Rosita being together and Sasha sucked her teeth in annoyance.

“Men are stupid. End of discussion.” she responded curtly. Laughing the man reached out and began ran a long finger down her exposed arm, the touch sending an unwanted jolt of electricity throughout her body. She didn't flinch away however and instead sat back in the seat to get a good look at him.

“You know I have a gun, right? Any funny business and I'll blow your damn head off.” she warned, her eyes staring up at his sternly.

“No funny business here, ma’am. I just hate to see a woman not be taken care of. I can take care of you.” he offered, his deep voice laced with unspoken promises. Sasha huffed and turned to face him, her legs crossed inside the bed of the truck.

“Men always make promises they can't deliver on. What makes you so different, mister?” Sasha taunted, exhaling impatiently. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, the man sunk to his knees and placed a hand on her thigh, the other propping the bat Lucille against the front tire of the truck.

“Trust me.” he cooed as ran his hand up her thigh and gently squeezed. “I always deliver.” Sasha swallowed hard as an involuntary shiver traveled down her spine and seemed to rest in her groin. Every inner alert system was telling her to run, to scream, to take her gun and blow his brains out and decorate the lavender field red. But in the back of her mind there was also a small voice telling her that one time couldn’t hurt, Abraham was having his fun so why can’t you and if you were to have a one time rendezvous this guy wasn’t bad looking. Biting her lower lip, thoughts of Abraham and Rosita laying in bed together flooded her mind and she uncrossed her legs turning to him slightly.

“If you do anything I don’t like, we’re stopping. I mean it. I’m serious when I say no funny business, mister.” Sasha cautioned as she fully turned to him, allowing him to be partially between her legs. He nodded in agreement and ran his hands slowly up the front of her jeans. She watched as he expertly unfastened the button and then the zipper, his hands moving swiftly and with urgency. Sasha attempted to reason with herself once more as she felt him grip the waistband of her jeans and underwear yank them down to her halfway her calves, nearly pulling her off the truck seat. Sasha yelp as she blindly grabbing for the back of the seat, catching it before she could be dragged out out the truck. She look down at the man in wonder and realized that he had also taken her boots off; Sasha not even feeling them come off her feet. He had propped her legs up on his shoulders and was examining her. Using his fingers, he gently spread her outer lips and ran his thumb over her sensitive area. Sasha squirmed under his prying eyes and sighed as his touch sent a surge of pleasure to her core.

Noticing the increased moisture, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her thigh. He kissed her up her inner thigh to her now swollen lips and kissed them as if he were kissing a lover. Sasha moaned low and continued t o squirm, anxious for him to get to the prize. Bringing a hand up, he parted her lips once again and dipped his tongue into her opening, licking upwards in a circular motion and just missing her clit. Sasha whined as he repeated the cycle, each time his tongue delving deeper inside of her. Shifting forward, his nose brushed against her nub and Sasha moaned loudly, the brief contact setting her aflame. He smirked as he used his nose to nuzzle against her again and swirl his tongue around her now very sensitive clit before he latched his lips around her and sucked. Sasha’s hands instantly flexed around the seat as her hips bucked and she came, moaning louder than she intended to. Her legs clamped around his head and he laughed as he pried himself from her clutches. Standing, he wiped his face with the back of his hand and stared down at her in amusement.

“Did I fucking deliver?” he asked, clearly proud of himself. Sasha sat up and located her discarded jeans. Standing on wobbly legs, she pulled them back on and next her boots.

“Sure, if you say so.” she quipped back. He scoffed and looked affronted. He picked up the bat against the tire and began to walk away.

“Better get moving, the sun is setting. Next time maybe we meet, we can do more. That is if you’re agreeable to it.” he mused as he walked away. Sasha shook her head as she watched him disappear into the wooded area whence he came. She smiled to herself as she gathered her things and began to make her way home and wondered if she’d ever see him again.

#ash's round 3 negan challenge #twd negan #Negan's thirst squad #negan fanfiction #the walking dead #nts fics

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valiantkingdomkitty-blog · 7 years

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Negan's New Toy - Negan x Reader

Written: Ash’s round 3 Negan Challenge

Prompt: Negan and vibrator

Warnings: Use of vibrator, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex and language

Negan was out on a run with some of his men and he was in what used to be a mall and he found a vibrator jus laying there. "Fuck, this will be fun" Negan said, he picked it up and put it in his bag. After getting back to the Sanctuary Negan went to his bedroom and sent for his newest wife. Y/n went to Negans room and knocked on the door, "come in, doll" Negan said.

Y/n went into the room closing the door behind her, "hey, Negan you wanted to see me" she said nervously. "Fuck you don't need to be nervous, I'm not gonna hurt you, doll" he said. She relaxed some knowing she hadn't done something wrong, she'd only been his wife for a week. Y/n married him because her brother stole from Negan so she married him so her brother wouldn't be kicked out.

Y/n watched as he pulled something from his bag, "I found this on the run today, I thought we could play with my new toy" he said. "Okay, what is it" she asked, "take off your dress and panties and lay on the bed" Negan said. She nodded her head unzipping her dress and letting it fall to the floor. She took her panties off and crawled on the bed, laying on her back. Negan took his leather jacket off and removed his belt.

Negan got on the bed next to her, he put batteries in what she could see was a vibrator. Y/n relaxed completely knowing what he meant by play with his new toy. "You okay this doll, you can say no if you like" he said, "yes I want to Negan" Y/n said. She spread her legs, he keeled between them and he switched on the vibrator and ran it over slit.

She moaned, he opened her pussy lips with his fingers and he put the vibrator to her clit moving it in circles. "How's that feel doll" Negan said, "so good Negan" she moaned, he slipped the vibrator into her entrance, "oh fuck yes, Negan" Y/n screamed. Negan wasted no time thrusting the toy in and out of her pussy. He couldn't take his eyes off her wet and glistening cunt as the toy worked her towards her release. Suddenly he pulled the vibrator from her pussy, she moaned at the loss.

Y/n looked up at him with an annoyed look on her face, "I'm sorry doll, that thing can't have all the fun, I wanna taste you before I make you cum around my thick cock" Negan said. He put his head over her pussy still being held open with his fingers he ran his tongue over her clit. Y/n moaned his name and fisted his short hair. Negan attached his lips around her clit sucking it into his mouth. "Oh fuck, Negan yes oh yes" she screamed.

Negan let go of her clit and slid his tongue inside her entrance swirling it around. Negan thrust his tongue in and out relentlessly fucking her with his tongue. He added his thumb rubbing circles on her clit and that sent her orgasm shooting through her. Her thighs squeezing his head while she screamed incoherently and dug her nails into the sheet. Negan lapped up all her juices and crawled up her body when he was done.

Negan placed a kiss on her lips shoving his tongue in her mouth, she could taste herself on his lips and tongue. Negan unfastened his pants and kicked them off with his boxers. Negan lined his cock up with her entrance and slammed his cock into her pussy. "Oh fuck yes, oh Negan yes" Y/n screamed, "you're so tight and wet, I love this pussy, doll" Negan said. "Your cock so big, fills me so good Negan" Y/n said, trying her best with the dirty talk.

Negan pulled his cock from her pussy "get on your knees doll face" Negan said, she moved onto her knees and Negan put his hands between her legs spreading them more. He lined himself up with her pussy again slamming into her, with the new angle his cock hit her g spot everytime. Negan unhooked her bra and it fell to the bed. Negan pulled her up gently and put his hands on her breasts.

His fingers tweaked her nipples "yes Negan" Y/n screamed and pushed her was against him shoving his cock deeper into her. "Y/n fun around my cock doll, I need you feel you" Negan grunted. His command was enough to send her falling over the edge. "Ahhh, ohh, fuck yes Negan yes" she screamed and her pussy clenched around his cock. Her pussy spasming around his cock sent him into his release he spilled his seed deep inside her pussy.

Y/n collapsed on her chest and stomach Negan used his shirt to clean up the mess between her thighs and on his cock. Negan laid next to her pulling her close to him, "I think this is gonna be our special toy I only use with you doll" he said. "Yes, I'm glad, that was the best sex I've ever had" she said. "I guess I should get dressed and leave now" Y/n said, "no need to rush off doll, I'm going back out to work anyway, stay as long you want, take a nap and use my shower" he said. Y/n nodded watching as he dressed and put his leather jacket on followed by his docks and boots. The last thing he did was puck up Lucille, "stay here and rest up round two" Negan said.

Tags @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @negans-network @lucilepiewhiskey @wwe-spn-twd @gummybearsandjellybeans @reedusmorgan @honeyrollins95 @uniquewerewolfsuit @nrjdmgirl

#ash's negan writing challenge #ash's round 3 negan challenge #negan smut #negan x reader

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negans-network · 7 years

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A Bride for Negan

Summary: For Ash’s Round 3 Negan Challenge, this fills in the Wedding Dress slot. Carrie is loyal to Ezekiel, but to keep the peace between the Kingdom and the Sanctuary, she offers her hand in marriage to Negan – who gleefully accepts.

Word Count: 5753

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Negan x F!OC

Warnings: Foul Language, Sexual Imagery and Language, Negan being Himself as Always, Smut, Daddy Kink, Spanking, Choking, Hair-Pulling, Anal Sex

Author’s Note: This is a one-shot.

Author: @genevievedarcygranger

Carrie’s marriage to Negan was a tense affair. The whole marriage idea itself was … unusual to say the least.

Being one of King Ezekiel’s knights, Carrie had been there when their King met with Negan. Ezekiel had only brought a handful of knights: Richard, Daniel, Dianne, Carrie, and her twin brother Jerry. Negan, meanwhile, brought anywhere between fifteen to thirty people. His terms of surrender were simple: “Give me half your shit, or I will fucking kill you medieval fucks.”

King Ezekiel had kept his grace and negotiated smoothly. “Please, Negan, sir, we have no issue giving you what you want, but you must understand as a fellow leader of men, that my people will be more complacent and provide more for you if they didn’t know of your existence.”

“That’s pretty fucking ballsy of you to say,” Negan had immediately responded, twirling that bat in the air. Observing all of this, Carrie had shifted nervously, not liking at all how the barbed wire on it glinted dangerously in the sunlight. The only thing that had been shinier than the barbed wire was Negan’s smile. It could have been considered a handsome smile at the time had he not been so damn intimidating and obviously lethal. Though, he had not seemed unhinged. Everything was too calculated to just have been on a whim.

After a pause, Negan had tilted his head back and leaned back on his heels. “How the fuck do you figure that to work, ‘Zeke? For me to collect without stepping a damn toe in your walls?”

All of the knights had stirred, not liking at all the disrespect to Ezekiel’s title. Carrie had shot her brother Jerry a warning look to keep him from doing anything rash. Jerry had own hefted his axe higher in his hands, and Carrie had rolled her eyes.

Luckily for them, Negan had his gaze trained on Ezekiel, and he hadn’t commented on the knights’ obvious restlessness. He had blithely continued with a harsh edge to his deep voice, “Nothing lights a fire under anyone’s ass more than that big fucking shoe over your head threatening to squash your ass like the fucking insect you are if you don’t give me my shit.”

Bravely, Ezekiel did not cower, but stood his ground. Carrie knew Ezekiel, though. She knew how deep this act ran considering how she and Jerry knew him from theatre. Jerry worked in set design and Carrie worked as the assistant director. Ezekiel was always the star, and such a nice guy. Still was a nice guy in this new, fucked-up world.

He was a regular method actor, but every actor had his nervous tells. For Ezekiel it was his eyes, the way they would shift to take everything in. Seeing how his eyes had darted back and further between the bat and Negan, Carrie knew that Ezekiel wished he had Shiva there – or better yet, that he didn’t have to do this. Still, Ezekiel was in too deep now and there were no other options.

Ezekiel had explained his idea to Negan without dropping his accent, “What if I give my assurance as a king by swearing my fealty–” at Negan’s irritated look, Ezekiel had hurried to explain, “The Kingdom will willingly serve you so long as you never step foot in our borders. You can have one of my knights as assurance that we will not fail you.” Outwardly, none of the knights had reacted. The plan had already been discussed; Daniel had been chosen for it, he’d been ready.

Surprise had been clearly visible on Negan’s face as his eyebrows had nearly crawled up to his hairline. “Shy-eet, that just sounds like you’re trying to embed a sleeper agent in my motherfucking crew. How do I know your ‘knight’,” and Negan had made air-quotes with his fingers and had an overexaggerated expression on his face, “won’t try and stab me in my sleep or spy on my shit? You want me to keep them fucking prisoner? Is that it? Take some fucking troublemaker off your hands?” A few of Negan’s men had laughed at that, and it was like a ripple originating from Negan’s dark rumble throughout the rest of the Saviors. There had been an underlying understanding of how a prisoner would be treated by the Saviors – not well.

“You have my word as a king that that is not the case. So long as my Knight lives with you in peace, there will be no trouble between us,” Ezekiel had assured Negan confidently, not giving the Saviors the reaction that had wanted. He had gestured for Daniel to step forward, and then he had introduced him, “Daniel is one of my best knights. He will work for you willingly.”

Not bothering to hide his unimpressed look, Negan had made a show of looking Daniel up and down and walking around him in a slow circle, the bat tip-tapping against the heel of his boot. Daniel was a younger man, and out of all of the Knights he was the most complacent. Richard was the leader of the knights, all too eager to volunteer as a way to get inside and kill Negan, but Ezekiel had not want to risk the Kingdom. Deemed too hot headed to go, Daniel had been chosen instead and given explicit instructions not do anything hostile. Daniel had been, in fact, willing to go, and the best candidate since he didn’t have any family left here except for the Knights themselves.

After a long moment, Negan had finally replied, “I don’t fucking think so. You must have terrible fucking knights to offer me this sorry shit.” Daniel had stepped back in line, his face hard and impassive, and Negan had turned back to his own men like, ‘Can you believe this shit?’ Turning back to Ezekiel again, Negan had unapologetically continued, “I can’t afford any fucking dead weight slowing my men down. Offer me someone else. Someone important to you.”

Unwittingly, Ezekiel’s tell had given himself away. He had taken a step back at the rejection and had glanced towards Carrie. They had once been a thing, but Carrie had broken it off. Ezekiel was a good man, but not what Carrie had needed. It hadn’t been a mutual break-up, but Ezekiel had been decent about it. Still, he had feelings for her after all this time.

Unfortunately, Negan had seen where Ezekiel’s eyes went and he hadn’t wasted any time. “Her,” he had pointed her out with his bat and he had that smile on his face.

Jerry, normally a happy-go-lucky, chill dude, immediately had stepped forward, axe midway lifted. Protectively, Carrie had stopped him with her hand on his shoulder, gripping it hard. Ezekiel, realizing his mistake, had countered Negan’s command carefully, “I thought you said you couldn’t afford any dead weight?”

Before she could help herself, Carrie had made a face, ready to snap her displeasure. Ever observant, Negan had seen that, too, and his smile had gone crooked, his expression morphing into one of glee. “I don’t think she’s dead weight to you, Ezekiel.” Sauntering over to Carrie, Negan had straightforwardly asked, “You look like you can defend yourself, but will you protect others? Will you serve me?”

Eye to eye with the man himself, Carrie had stepped in front of her brother to keep him from doing anything rash or stupid. Those emotions could get you killed. Now she was nose to nose with him, albeit he had a few inches on her, but she was broader than him. He was undeniable handsome, but she couldn’t let that distract her. But she was confident in her abilities. She could do it all. “Yes, I will.”

Little did Carrie know that those were her vows.

Pleased with her answer, Negan had made a small noise at the back of his throat in acceptance, but Carried had also suspected that he sounded intrigued by her. His eyes had been surprisingly warm, curious. She should have known that he was planning something then.

“Please,” Ezekiel had interrupted the moment, and Negan had whipped around to face him too quick, as if he’d been expecting Ezekiel’s reaction. “Please,” the King had repeated, “leave her here. Should anything happen to her…” he had trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air, not exactly a threat but a promise of something. Retribution, maybe? Jerry had a look on his face like he wanted to say the same thing and much, much more.

It didn’t faze Negan at all. He hadn’t even blinked. “Well, Zeke, now we have a deal I can fucking get behind!” Negan had glanced over at Carrie and gave her a meaningful once over. She had blushed and then he had addressed Ezekiel again, “If you want, I can keep her safe for you. She doesn’t have to be a Savior. In fact, she doesn’t have to lift a damn finger, just be one of my wives.”

Needless to say, it hadn’t exactly gone over smoothly. It was a shit kind of romantic proposal, but Negan had been serious. He said that he wasn’t going to require any ‘wifely’ duties from her, because he abhorred rape. But this really put Ezekiel on the ropes. The Kingdom wouldn’t be able to risk anything with Carrie since Ezekiel cared about her so much, and Carrie had family: Jerry. But they all consented willingly, Carrie willing to do it for the Kingdom.

Jerry had been the one to hand her over to Negan – walk her down the aisle in a way – after a brief hug goodbye. There had been no tears, but Carrie whispered to him that she would come back one day. Made him promise to stay alive and stay safe.

And her marriage ceremony when she had gotten back to the Sanctuary – an impressive factory guarded by the dead – had consisted of changing into a short white dress that complimented her skin tone and a kiss at dinner in front of everyone there so that they knew she was Negan’s. Carrie was surprised at herself for enjoying the kiss, but Negan could kiss damn well. And she couldn’t help herself from wondering just what else he was good at. What else could his talented mouth do.

For a while, Negan left Carrie alone, not forcing himself on her and just hanging out in the parlor with her, playing board games and cards as a way to relax. Sometimes they would kiss, but they never took it further. When he was in a fucking mood, he always got another wife, and they were always more than willing.

They had told Carrie often how good he was in bed, and it drove her crazy in more ways than one. Her curiosity went rampant, and as the weeks went on she became sexually frustrated. The walls were thin enough that she could hear just how talented Negan could be, and she was starting to get jealous of how sated and satisfied the other wives would look the mornings after a night with him.

Carrie kept up with how the Kingdom was, though. The Savior Lieutenant that acted as the liaison between the Sanctuary and the Kingdom – Gavin – would always come and tell her as per Negan’s request. After all, her position as a wife relied solely on if the Kingdom complied with Negan’s men. For the most part, the Kingdom was doing well. Gavin told her that Richard could be a disrespectful handful sometimes, but other than that, the Kingdom never came up short. The fresh fruit was nice to have at the Sanctuary, and it reminded Carrie of home.

And while the Kingdom would always be her true home, Carrie could see just by living here than Negan wasn’t quite so bad. He burned off a guy’s face once, but other than that he was fair to his people. The world had changed. Negan was just ahead of the curve.

Well, Carrie’s allegiance be damned, there was nothing wrong with fucking. She wanted it, and that didn’t mean she had to care about Negan. At the most, they could be fuck buddies, friends with benefits, what have you. All Carrie knew is that she needed satisfaction, and cheating on Negan wasn’t an option; that rule had been made crystal clear to her.

Carrie planned it to where she’d be waiting in Negan’s room for him. She told the other wives that she was ready, and they smiled at her, happy for her. Wearing the white dress she had been married to Negan in and nothing else, Carrie reclined on Negan’s bed, waiting.

Luckily, she hadn’t been kept waiting long. Negan stepped into his room with a tired sigh, tossing his scarf on the bed without looking. The scarf hit Carrie in the face, and she snorted, amused. At the sound, Negan paused midway through setting Lucille down on her chair, and then swung around raising Lucille up, ready to strike. Instincts not dulled much by her time spent as a wife, Carrie rolled over to the other side of the bed and defensively raised her hands. “Sorry, Negan, I didn’t mean to startled you.”

Once he saw who it was, Negan lowered Lucille and smiled wickedly at her. “Well, shit, isn’t this a nice fucking surprise for me. To what do I owe the pleasure, Care-Bear? Please tell me this is a visit for fucking pleasure rather than business. Your Kingdom is doing just fine so don’t get your panties in a twist. Unless, you want me to twist your panties. What the fuck do you need from me?”

Carrie rolled her eyes at Negan’s theatrics. He could be just as bad as Ezekiel sometimes, and it honestly made her wonder if he used to do community theatre, too, before. The nickname didn’t bother her much, which surprised her. Ezekiel had tried to call her Duchess or Princess, but Carrie didn’t care much for it. He was always trying to protect her, but she didn’t need it. If anyone did, it be Ezekiel. Pulling herself away from her thoughts, Carrie climbed back on the bed again. “What if I told you that I’m not even wearing panties, Negan?”

Negan raised his eyebrows in surprise, and stuck his tongue between his teeth so mischievously. Lucille was gently placed in her chair, and then Negan moved back to the bed, his long strides like a panther stalking his prey. “I would say I fucking like that.” He reached out and trailed his fingers over her face, fingertips caressing the plumpness of her cheek from cheekbone to soft jawline. Before he leaned down to kiss her, he warned her in a low voice, “Care-Bear, if you want me to take you, it’s not gonna be sweet and slow. I’m in the mood for a hard fuck. I like it damn rough. But if you want sweet and slow from me, I’ll give it to you one day. Today is just not that fucking day.”

Good. Just what Carrie wanted. “I’m no small, delicate thing, Negan. Fuck me hard.” And with that, Carrie sealed the deal with a kiss and unlike their other ones, she didn’t keep it light or languid. She sucked his bottom lip hard into her mouth and nipped at it until she tasted blood.

With a hiss, Negan withdrew, blood dripping down his beard and staining the silvery parts of his stubble. He licked his lip, tasting the metallic tang of his own blood, and immediately his expression shifted into one of manic glee. “That’s fucking like it, but first things first…” The hand on her face slipped down her neck and grasped it firmly, his long fingers tightening like a snake. “I’m your Daddy now.” The thumb on her neck rubbed up and down, his fingertips twitching but not scratching her with his blunt nails. It was obvious that he’s done this before.

Mouth open wide and eyes going half-lidded at the pain intermingling with her arousal, Carrie did her best to nod her head. Her hands came up and grasped at his wrist, but she didn’t try to pull it away. She wanted this, too, though she had never done it before.

Sucking his injured lip into his mouth, Negan’s eyes roved over her face hungrily. “You wanna fucking stop, you tap wherever you can reach on me twice or you call out ‘Lucille’, okay, Care-Bear? Daddy may want to use you for his pleasure, but we all got fucking limits. You don’t have to convince me that you’re a badass.” To prove his point, Negan loosened his grip around her throat and Carrie gratefully sucked in great gulps of air. Pleased, Negan nodded at her, and then jutted his chin out towards the headboard, “Now lift up your dress for me and show me your fine ass.” His hand was removed from her and scrubbed through his beard, gingerly touching his lip and examining the blood on his finger.

Figuring that Negan planned to get down to business, Carrie turned around and crawled toward the headboard. She planted herself shoulders first on the pillows, face turned to the side so she could breathe, and reached behind her. The wedding dress was hitched up until it was above her hips, her entire lower half exposed. In the face-down/ass-up position, Carrie shook her rear from side to side and spread her legs. Ready for him to take, her dripping sex was revealed as she grasped her rear and thighs.

However, Negan surprised her when he grasped her ankles and pulled. Carrie flopped down on her belly in surprise and looked over her shoulder at him just in time to see him bring a leather-gloved hand cracking down on her rear. “Not so fast, Daddy likes to fucking play first.” He spanked her again on the other cheek this time, and Carrie surprised herself when she moaned. “Yeah, you fucking like being punished, huh? You know why I’m punishing you?” Again, he brought his hand down and Carrie marveled at how arousing the feel of cool leather on her rapidly warming skin was. “Good girls don’t sneak in Daddy’s room.” Smack. “Good girls wear their panties and keep them clean.” Another smack. “And good girls speak when they’re spoken to.” Three harder smacks all on the same spot.

Writhing underneath Negan’s hand, Carrie threw her head back and loudly moaned. It felt like her skin was on fire and stinging, but the pain only caused that feeling in her gut to tighten. She was close to coming all ready and all he’s done is talk and spank her. Carrie never knew she was into this, but god, what has she been missing out on all her life.

That leather-gloved hand came down hard on her rear, achingly close to her pussy. “If you don’t start talking, then I’ll gag you. Would you like that? For me to tie you up and fuck every hole to my fucking heart’s content? Speak up now, or Daddy’s taking this shit into his own hands.” He dragged his hand down, dipping low, but not touching her how she wanted. And then there was an unexpected smack right on the outer lips of her vulva, and Carrie couldn’t keep quiet at that.

“Oh, Daddy!” Carrie called out, tears springing to her eyes. Now her pussy was aching for another reason, but that didn’t dim her pleasure in the slightest. “Fuck, Daddy, I’ll be good if you fuck me. Fuck me into submission!” She dared him impudently, pushing herself into his hand. She brought her hands back and stroked her hand over her blushing cheeks, egging him on. It had been so long, but that didn’t mean she planned on giving in easily.

Catching her eye, Negan pressed his lips together, narrowing his gaze. The challenged incited his possessive side further, and he reached up and snatched up his red scarf. Wrestling her hands behind her back, he tied her securely, but not so tight that the fabric would be uncomfortable. “I’m gonna make you beg for it,” Negan growled, and yanked her hips up, grinding his pelvis against her. “You don’t get Daddy’s dick until you fucking beg for it!”

Petulant, Carrie buried her face in the pillow, muffling her moans. The friction of his pants against her sensitive skin drove her wild, and Carrie briefly considered that she wasn’t above frottage as a means of getting off. Spreading her legs and pushing further back into Negan’s considerable package, Carrie searched for that desperate contact that she needed. Instead of satisfying her, feeling his clothed erection pressed against her only drove up her arousal even higher without giving her the relief that she wanted. Frustrating herself, she bit the pillow and moaned around it. Her pride wouldn’t let her beg yet.

Well, Negan wasn’t having that. He grabbed fistfuls of her hair and yanked, lifting her face off the bed so he could hear every pitiful noise that came out of her mouth. “None of that shit, Care-Bear. Daddy loves a screamer. Are you gonna scream my name for me like a good girl? Or am I gonna have to get that gag for you after all?” Negan tugged again at her hair, driving his point home.

Again, the pain was Carrie’s pleasure. Her hair follicles were screaming, but it only made her wetter and more excited. Carrie’s pride would have to be put aside one night. It had been too long for her to keep up this game and build the anticipation even further. “Please, Daddy,” Carrie gave in with a loud moan, “Fuck me hard, Daddy.”

“That’s fucking like it,” Negan crowed and released her. Eagerly, he pushed down his pants and underwear, erection springing up. He rutted it up against her, wetting himself between her labia, and Carrie deliriously moaned her approval and moved back against him. Without wasting anytime, Negan lined up and pushed into her. The pain was fleeting as Carrie adjusted, but she did adjust. There was no pause from Negan, though, as he set a quick and brutal pace. His hands came back up and he buried his fingers in her hair. Negan’s other hand came up and wrapped around her throat. He lifted her up against him, and she could feel the fabric of his shirt press against the revealed skin of her back, thanks to the dress.

Just like how Carrie wanted, Negan rode her hard. It was sloppy, it was rough, it was loud – and most importantly it hurt as much as it pleased her. There was grunting from Negan, filthy curses, but he didn’t degrade her, singing her praises, “God, you’re so fucking wet. You feel amazing. So damn hot. God, your pussy feels damn good. All for me. All for your Daddy.”

On Carrie’s part she was loudly moaning, borderline crying from the force of Negan’s thrusts. Occasionally it became hard to breathe in Negan’s crushing grip and there would be bruises, but it never became too much for her. The texture of the leather glove was addicting to Carrie. Her bound hands behind her back scrabbled for purchase somewhere, her fingertips barely able to brush against the soft skin of Negan’s pelvis and lower stomach. Carrie’s nails scratched him, and Negan hissed and fucked her harder for punishment.

Tears of pain and pleasure leaked down her face and Carrie sobbed – and then came, and it was the release she had been looking for all along. He fucked her through it, and Carrie rode out her high. Once it was over, she collapsed, tired, but Negan chuckled at her, “Oh, Daddy’s not done fucking you yet.”

After having her come twice more, Negan finally released her hands and Carrie reached down to touch herself. At this point she was thoroughly dick drunk. Three orgasms had not sated her yet, only fueling her desire for more. Chest heaving, Negan reached over her for the bedside table, opening the drawer and rummaging around for something. Carrie didn’t stop rubbing her clit, but she was curious. “Daddy? What are you doing?”

“Daddy wants to fuck your ass,” Negan explained, and he paused momentarily. They made eye-contact and Negan tilted his head, wordlessly asking for permission. It was touching, and Carrie took the moment to think it over to herself.

Anal is something that Carrie has done before, usually with toys and plugs. She’s even had sex before wearing the plugs, but she’s never gone further than fingering with a partner. The intrusion of Negan’s thick cock couldn’t be that much, could it? Not when he was thoroughly lubricated with both her juices and the lube he fetched from the drawer. She nodded her consent, and then added for good measure, “Fuck my ass until you come inside me, Daddy.”

A pleased smile stretched across Negan’s face and he actually bent down to kiss her forehead before he moved around her again. “I’ll try my fucking best not to ruin this pretty dress on you, Care-Bear. You look so good for Daddy all dressed in white.” Then Carrie felt the lube generously drizzle over her sore bottom as if Negan were pouring ketchup on his fries. From Negan’s point of view, it was more like watching a white chocolate sauce spread over chocolate and strawberry ice cream. The skin on her ass was still red, both from the spanking and from Negan’s bony hips pounding into her. He lubed up his own cock, staring down at her rear with a hungry look in his eyes. This was going to be very fun. “You ready for Daddy?”

Whining slightly at the blissful coolness of the lube on her hot skin, Carrie called back to him, “I can take it, Daddy.”

“Oh, I bet you fucking can,” Negan agreed and gently worked a finger into her hole. It was the same hand that he wore his leather glove on, something he didn’t notice until he had already started probing around. Not that he minded, but that he forgot to take it off. But Carrie seemed to love it, judging by her groans, so Negan adding another finger and started scissoring her.

Negan’s assumption was right; Carrie’s new favorite kink had to be the feeling of leather on her skin. Something about the contract of the leather in her ass in comparison to the silk sheets crumpled beneath her knees or the lace of her wedding dress clinging to her sweaty back. “Fuck, Daddy, that feels so good,” she managed to convey, and her forehead dropped down and pressed hard on the pillow. One hand propped her up but the other had her fingers buried in her cunt, thumb on her clit as she rode her hand until her wrist hurt and then kept riding it.

Eager for his own release, Negan pulled his fingers out and grabbed himself, pressing the head of his cock against the loosened ring of muscle. His other hand had her meaty hip in a bruising grip, holding her steady. “I’m gonna fuck you now until you can’t sit, you can’t walk straight. All you’re gonna do is just lie here in my bed and wait for me to fuck you again. You’re Daddy’s now.” And then he slid inside her midway until there was an unexpected give and he slid in even further with a grunt of surprise.

Mouth open wide in a silent ‘oh’, Carrie pushed herself back into him. Time stood still as they both focused on the new sensation. For Negan, her ass was tighter than her cunt, but just as wet and just as hot. For Carrie, Negan’s cock was so much thicker than anything else she’d put there before, but the silky hardness of his cock was so much better than any silicone texture of her toys. The only thing that could have felt better would have been if he had a leather condom. Maybe another time.

Then Negan was moving, and he leaned back, watching his cock disappear inside of her. It was a heady experience, and the ripple of her large ass made him want to see it move harder. He brought his free hand up and smacked it again, and Carrie shouted, tightening around his cock and her fingers. She found a rhythm that worked for her, meeting his thrusts and driving forward into the cup of her hand.

Doubtlessly, she’d be a sore body and a complete mess, but she didn’t care. How could she care about anything when everything inside of her was singing about how good Negan made her feel? This was definitely different than the mild sex she’d had with Ezekiel. He tried too hard to make her feel good, focused too much on worshipping her flesh, but when it came down to it, if you couldn’t pound an orgasm into her, Carrie would take it into her own hands. Negan was nothing like that. He used her for his pleasure, and Carrie reveled in it, finding that bliss and liberty that came from having the control out of her hands. Negan’s next stroke drove all fleeting thoughts of comparison she had about Ezekiel out of her mind, and Carrie was reminded of another reason why Negan was better. She couldn’t think when she was with him, she just let go and gave into all her animalistic desires, and so did he. Negan wasn’t going to judge her for it or her kinkiness like Ezekiel had balked at her suggestion for anal play. God, this was so much better and just what Carrie needed.

Finally, she came again, freezing in place and shaking from the sheer force of her orgasm. Negan felt it, but still held on to his own, again fucking her through it. When Carrie fell, pulling her hands away, lying there trying to catch her breath, only then did Negan spill himself inside her ass with a grunt. He was tired, too, though definitely not as tired as her. Pulling himself out, Negan admired the way his white come leaked out of her hole, contrasting with the pink and brown of her skin. She looked good enough to eat, but maybe later.

Negan climbed out of bed, fetching a dampened bath clothe from his bathroom. Returning to her, he cleaned her up and then himself. Then he gathered Carried in his arms, dried her tears, and pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead. After that, they slept, not a word spoken between him.

There were many repeat incidents after that. It became a weekly occurrence for Carrie to go to Negan’s room for some release. They rarely did the same thing twice, experimenting a lot. Sometimes Carrie was the one who took the reins, using and abusing Negan to their equal content. Together, they were always passionate, but rarely sweet. That part always came after. It wasn’t love, neither of them even had doubts about it. But it worked for them.

Eventually, though, Carrie became restless, much like how she’d been before she worked up the courage to see Negan for some release. This kind of release was different, not sexual, but still physical in a way. Negan saw it for what it was immediately before Carrie even did. She was bored with her position as a wife. Sure, she’d enjoyed the position for its perks, but after the novelty of it wore off, Carrie was finished with this mild vacation. Carrie was a survivor, someone who enjoyed going out there and getting the job done. She was a provider first and foremost.

So, one day, after one of their sessions together, before Negan allowed himself to drift off to sleep, he made Carrie an offer. “Care-Bear, are you happy?”

“I’m satisfied,” she answered shortly, her sex-brain too addled and tired to really think about her answer.

Understanding, Negan takes it at face value. “What if you weren’t a wife anymore, would you still be fucking happy?”

She tenses and pulls away enough to look up at him. “What happened to the Kingdom?”

“Shit, nothing. Don’t you worry about that,” Negan assures her and draws her back in to his chest again. “The deal I have with them stays, but I’m offering you a new deal.”

Resting her cheek on his chest, Carrie combed her fingers through his sweaty chest hair. “What kind of deal, Negan?”

“Care-Bear,” Negan begins, “how would you like to be a Savior?”

It was quiet for a long time, and then Carrie spoke her thoughts to him aloud. “You expect me to work for you, subjugating other communities like you’re doing to my home?”

“You don’t think you can fucking do it? That’s what Ezekiel originally proposed for anyway. Don’t try and bullshit me, Carrie. I know that you’ve done some shit, and I know you still have it in you to do some more bad shit. Hell, you’ve seen the people here. You know we’re not all fucking bad. Won’t you fucking do it for them? Do it for fucking me?”

Again, the conversation listed off into silence, and if Negan didn’t know any better, he’d had thought that Carrie had dropped off to sleep. Finally, though, she answered him. “I’ll do it.” She didn’t say who she was doing this for, but it didn’t matter. Negan had lost a hell of a lot of men the other day when an entire outpost was slaughtered in their sleep. He needed more Saviors and he needed them fast. Carrie could handle herself and he trusted her. She would have to do.

“Good.”

“Will we still do this?” Carrie surprised him by asking. For one, he thought she’d break it off, but Negan had no intention of letting her go. Like he said before, she was his now. No one else could touch her.

“Fuck yes, we’re still doing this.” Negan shifted restlessly into a more comfortable position. Now they were spooning, his chin on her shoulder, hand stroking over her soft and rounded belly. “You’ll find that you get to keep a lot of your perks as one of my Saviors.”

“Me? Your Savior? I like the sound of that.”

Negan chuckled, his breath hot and damp against the shell of her ear. “Fuck yeah, so do I. But don’t you fucking forget, Care-Bear. You’ll always be one of my brides.”

#negan #negan's thirst squad #NTS #NTS fics #negan fanfics #fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #ash's round 3 negan challenge #submission

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84reedsy · 7 years

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A Pirate’s Life For Me - Pirate Negan AU

Author: @84reedsy

Characters: (Pirate) Negan X Female OC

Word Count: 4759

Warnings: A level of smut that I was not even really prepared for. Also my first time writing Negan! NSFW, Swearing, language, some violence.

Tags: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @negans-network

Description: A new crew member has a big secret to hide, will the Captain find out “Gabriel’s” hidden identity?

The seas were fairly calm, the skies were bright blue. The hull of the ship bobbed slowly in the water as if it were part of the tide, part of the sea itself. The Sanctuary was a mighty ship, it’s black sails setting it apart from many of its counterparts; the pirate ship’s appearance alone struck fear into the hearts of those who were unlucky enough to lay their eyes upon it. For when one saw the ship, it was usually to late to fend her off for long, for The Sanctuary was a mighty, mighty ship indeed as her lossless record of piracy would suggest.

The crew was kept well as any crew could. Captain Negan made a point to call them Saviours instead of pirates, saying their work was honorable and part of what the sea needs.

They did not want for much as long as their allegiance to their captain was strong. The deck swabbed daily, the ship kept in immaculate shape, even the cooks quarters, normally a source of disease and festering smells was kept well. The captain would tolerate no less. He was fair, but if crossed or disobeyed could be a vicious and as bloodthirsty as any pirate captain could be. Those he did not strike fear in upon his appearance, he would at the very least garner the utmost respect. Yes, Negan was one hell of a pirate.

The ship was large, one of the largest vessels ever stolen from the royal navy and left unreclaimed, for the military feared him as much as any other man. Knowing this only furthered Negan’s drive to plunder and amass his fortune.

Most of the crew was an aggregation of his conquests. Those that did not perish were invited to join the ship’s legion. Those that refused were left behind on their sinking vessels to die an almost certain watery death. It was on one of those ships that Gabriel was a recruit from. He was aboard a french ship on a destinationless pleasure cruise when they were taken by Negan and the rest of the crew aboard The Sanctuary.

As with all other he’d started very low in the pecking order, slowly working his way up. He kept to himself, rarely speaking to others. Those he considered friends assumed that his antisocial behavior was nothing suspicious and therefore were usually content with his quiet presence. The truth behind his silence is what was truly shocking, and something he felt he must keep for the fear of his own life and honor.

For you see, Gabriel made a snap decision the day the french based ship was taken into the control of The Sanctuary. A decision that would, in his mind, secure his life and possibly provided a chance one day to return to shore and seek out his family. This was something only a man could accomplish, Gabriel had thought. It was the reasoning behind his decision to hide that fact that he….she was actual a young woman.

Somehow over the last few months, she’d managed to conceal this hidden identity. Choosing her father’s name was the first task and one she made quite impulsively as she kneeled before Captain Neegan as he asked each survivor if they’d care to join his crew. It was her father’s clothes that she’d hurriedly dressed in as the pirate ship approached, spurring her decision as well.

Lowering her voice, her french accent obscured her otherwise obviously fake attempt at baritone. As a woman she was svelte and incredibly attractive, which made concealing her form difficult. But luckily most of those employed in piracy wore baggy rags of clothes; layers and odd posture also aided in her concealment. It was quite a departure from the corseted frock revealing ample cleavage she normally wore.

She made it a point to keep her appearance rougher than normal, smearing dirt on her normally flawless skin and keeping her loose, golden blonde curls dirtied and shoved in a ponytail, partially hidden by a scrap of fabric tied around her head.

The more time that passed, the less and less she missed the rigidness of her upbringing, of her dull courtship with a politician's son; a man so unmasculine and unendowed that she hadn’t even realized that she’d lost her virginity. Doomed to a life of ungratifying sexual boredom was something she was willing to escape from and grew happier and happier every day.She was respected and not questioned or looked down upon, even as a swab.

She tried to remain inconspicuous to those in charge. Normally they saw Negan’s first mate, Simon on a daily basis as he would give orders, shouting from the top deck the plans for the day, assignments, promotions….punishments. Negan only made appearances in important occasions, usually punishments and promotions. Apparently today as very important, as Negan appeared from his captain’s quarters, silently studying the crew as they gathered below, waiting for him to commence the announcements.

Everyone appeared to be on edge as a small cauldron smoked at his feet. A long metal rod protruded from it, most knew it was a flat metal end, almost a brand of sorts. Those who had been with him the longest knew what was to come and tried as much as they could to ignore the apparatus, gazing upwards upon Negan.

Gabriel usually kept her eyes low, but Captain Negan was a specimen of a man that was difficult to avert your eyes from as a woman. He was muscular, but lean. His shirt split at the neck and dipped well into his chest, revealing a slight hairiness that solidified his masculinity. His salt and pepper stubble adorned his face, giving him a sight of wisdom. His constant smirk, an aire of confidence unmatched by any she’d ever seen before.

Her eyes scanned the rest of him as he began speaking, his dark red sash riding low, tightly cinched around his hips. She licked her lips as she remembered the dream she’d had of him sliding that sash around her waist and pulling her to him. She quickly shook the thought from her head, not wanting to rouse suspicion. She looked up at Negan’s face, her blood ran cold as he was smirking directly at her.

“SAVIOURS!” He boomed his greeting, leaning back as if it helped project his voice.

“CAPTAIN NEGAN!” The whole of the crew responding in resounding reverence.

“What a fine fucking day we have here.” His grin spread, showing his pearly white teeth, the envy of the ship, no doubt. It was one of the things that made him so mesmerizing. The crew responded again affirmatively.

“Simon, get on with this shit.” He clapped Simon on the shoulder, standing almost ominously to the side as Simon addressed the group. As much as most tried to give undivided attention to Simon, Negan’s presence made that impossible. He leaned against the newel post at the top of the stairway, one hand gripping the hand of his sword lightly. The sword even had a name, Lucille.

Gabriel had to ask several times if the other shipmates were being serious when she found out he’d named his weapon of choice that he held so dearly, so affectionately by his side. There were several rumors as to what the name signified. Most assumed it was a woman who’d broken his heart, some went as far as to say it was a sea nymph who’d lured him out to the sea, or a mermaid. The theories were endless but the coincidence of it was interesting to say the least.

Negan’s voice brought her mind back to attention as she realized he was looking in her direction as he spoke. His finger pointed and she felt her heart stop. Had she been found out? Had someone noticed something about her?

“Him...bring him here.” Negan pointed again in her direction. She felt the lump in her throat as two enforcers parted the crowd and made their way back. She was sure she would vomit when they reached her, but she felt a wave of relief as they grabbed a man next to her, who looked as pale and nervous as a man on death row. He fought their direction at first, but became almost lifeless as he was led up the stairs to a rickety wooden chair between Simon and Negan.

“You see, something that I demand from you Saviours...is respect, loyalty. If i get respect from you, you get it from me. I hope that’s fucking clear as crystal to all of you.”

“SIR, YES, SIR” was the again resounding response of the crew below.

“Absolutely fucking perfect.” He grinned, but it was almost devilish as if he were licking his chops over a fresh kill, “Because, you see, William here, has forgotten that very simple rule. The rule that says, ‘Don’t fuck over your Captain’.” He paced slowly back and forth on the upper deck, his heavy boots clunking with each step.

“You don’t fucking steal shit, from your Captain.” The silence below was almost deafening. It was almost as if the sea itself with quiet, listening to him, “I think William, here...need’s a reminder.”

Negan pulled Lucille from her sheath, holding it at eye-level to a clearly fear-stricken William. It was hard to feel sympathy for him. William was known to be quite selfish and insulting. Not to mention boorish and clearly entitled. But she felt a twinge of sorrow for him as his eyes were fixed on the blade, distracting him as Simon carefully handed Negan the glowingly hot brand.

William tried to apologize, begged to just let him return the gold he’d skimmed from their bounty, but it was clearly too late. She turned her head, unable to watch. Her eyes fell upon another of the saviours, his eyes blank, a scar on his cheek identical to the brand that Negan was wielding against William’s face. It was brutal and violent, but whether or not you agreed with his methods one couldn’t argue the results it produced.

She peered back as William fell silent, unconscious after the attack. Negan’s smile was wicked as he turned back to them. Parts of skin still hung from the end of the brand. The enforcers carted William off of the deck down below as Negan jabbed the iron back into the still smouldering cauldron.

Simon continued announcements as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. It made her stomach turn at the thought of that being a typical operating procedure, but she kept her head down the rest of the time. As they were dismissed, she scuttled about the crew, wanting to disappear below deck for a while, but as she approached the descending stairwell, a heavy arm blocked her escape.

Her eyes traveled the forearm, to the bicep, to the shoulder, finally seeing Simon was the one blocking her way.

“Yes, sir?” she mumbled in her muddled, falsely deep voice.

“The captain, requests your company...Gabriel” Now even a complete greenhorn of a sailor knew that it was no request, but a veiled order to appear. She was a little surprised to hear him say her “name”. She wasn’t aware that Simon nor Captain Negan even knew she existed. She swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding silently. As Simon led her to the captain’s quarters she kept her head down, careful to not make any eye contact with the other crew, a few of which who were looking on curiously.

As she was let into the room, she had to contain herself from being visibly awestricken. The wood pillars and molding around the room shown with a brilliant shine. It smelled of spices and good tobacco. She saw a tray with two crystal glasses, both filled halfway with a clear liquid. Lanterns hung around the room, giving the room a warm glow. His bed was the most impressive. Crisp, satiny sheets were tucked neatly; she remembered days of such extravagance, the way those sheets would cascade across your bare skin as you slept. Far better than the rough hammock she’d become accustomed to.

“Captain, deckhand Gabriel...as you requested.” Simon announced, a slight smirk on his face. He exited the room before she had a chance to really wonder what his smirk could have implied.

She stood at attention as best as she could while still leaving her chest caved in to hide her bosom. She clasped her hands behind her back to hide the nervous wringing of her hands. She heard his boots first as he emerged from behind a dressing screen. He’d removed his vest and head scarf, also letting the lacing on his shirt loose so that most of his chest and abdominals were exposed. The warm day left the slightest sheen of sweat glaze his body. It made every female part of her take notice as she tried not to let her eyes linger.

“You...You wanted to see me Captain?” She asked, her accent and low tone almost comical in a one on one setting. She felt her body shiver as a grin spread across his face and he lightly chuckled.

“Why yes, Gabriel. I did ask for Simon to bring your ass in here.” He sat down at the table, kicking both boots up on its edge, lighting a cigar, “I was wondering you knew the fuck why?”

From his grin she knew he was playing with her. She didn’t know the endgame but had nowhere to run, so she stayed.

“Sir, I do not know why you asked me here.”

He lifted his hand and curled his index finger, signalling her to approach him. He kept curling his finger as she edged closer, stopping a mere foot from him.

“Well...I thought I might need to reiterate my point earlier to make it crystal fucking clear about what I expect.” He turned the cigar between his full lips as he bored his eyes into her.

“Sir, you were very clear.” She somehow was keeping herself from shaking.

“Then care to tell your Captain why you’ve been a god damned liar since you got here?”

She felt frozen in place, she clenched her feminine hands in a fist as if that would keep him from noticing.

“S-sir?” She tried to play ignorant, stuttering as she couldn’t speak as deeply as she wanted.

“Wash your face.” He said, puffing away on the cigar. She stood, still frozen in place, his command a little confusing. “I said wash your fucking face.” He rose his voice a little, pointing to the wash basin.

Somehow her feet moved in that direction though they felt like solid bricks. She washed her face, staring into the mirror behind it as she did, the more dirty and grime that washed away, the more feminine she appeared. She returned to his side as she was instructed to do.

“Ah much better….Gabriel.” But the way he said the name, she had a suspicion that he was using it sarcastically.

“Now, back to you being a filthy little liar.” His voice almost growled. She couldn’t decide if it was fear or attraction that spurred her at this point, “Go ahead, tell Captain Negan you’ve been a bad little liar this whooooole time.” He bit lightly on the cigar as he smiled.

She wanted to defend herself, to convince him he was wrong, but she couldn’t find the words, or perhaps, the courage to say them. At her silence, Negan made the next move.

“Well…” He sat his cigar down, “I have a sneaking fucking suspicion, that if I keep doing this.” He clamped his hand on the inside of her knee, making her gasp as he slowly slid it up her thigh, “I’m gonna find a distinct fucking lack of dick.”

Her breathing quickened with each inch that his hand moved. Panic set in her brain as she realized she was not going to be able to talk her way around this one. Just as his fingers grazed her, she spoke up.

“Ok...Ok...You’re...you’re right...I’ve been lying...to protect myself.” She tried to offer as an explanation, but it almost came out pleading. She spoke in her normal feminine tone that seemed to make his grin widen.

“I like that voice much better. Take your hair down.” He stopped moving his hand, but left it on her inner thigh. She took a deep breath as she removed the cloth from her head. She took her hair down gently shaking it out.

“Well hell, you’re pretty as a fucking picture.” Negan drawled, puffing on the cigar again, “ Shame you’ve been hiding it so long...we coulda been having some fun.” His hand left her thigh to rest in his own lap, “Shirt. Off.”

Her eyes widened at his direction. His smile diminished a little as she stalled.

“No naughty deed goes unpunished.” was his warning to her, “Shirt...now.”

She saw his hand gently squeeze himself and couldn’t deny she was curious to see how much of a man he was. She slowly untucked the gauzy shirt, lifting it over her head and letting it fall to the floor. She had several layers of cloth wrapped around her chest to suppress what would have made her sex all too obvious.

“Well, look at that you crafty little thing.” He chuckled but stood. She jumped as he unsheathed Lucille, holding it near her face as he stood in front of her, studying the blade.

“Tell me doll, what’s your real name?” He tilted his head, staring down at her, aware of how overbearing he appeared. Her eyes flickered from the blade to his, “If it’s Gabrielle or some boring french shit, I’m gonna be real fucking disappointed.”

“It’s...It’s...Lucille.” She felt her cheeks blush as his smile faltered.

“Huh, no shit?” He was taken by surprise at this, quickly regaining his composure as she shook her head, “Well ain’t that some shit.”

Lucille almost yelped as she felt the cool dull side of the blade of her same name sake run between her skin at the cloth, the sharp edge tearing the cloth along it’s edge, making it fall to the floor. Her instincts were to cover herself, but she kept her arms stiff at her side.

“Oh, damn, doll...even more of a shame that you kept these things under wraps.” his voice was quieter, somehow deeper. She kept her eyes on his, trying to remain unflinching as his hand grazed her breast, his rough skin abrasive on her nipple, but she didn’t dare ask him to stop. The fire in her belly was being stoked and she wanted more.

“If this isn’t ok...just fucking say so. I’m not into forcing a woman to please me.” His motion stalled, leaving her wanting for more, surprised at his request, “I can always find other ways to punish you.”

“It’s ok….it’s more than ok.” She murmured, arching her back a little so that her breast was pushed more into his hand. His smile has her answer as his hand squeezed her breast tightly, massaging it as her lips parted in a whispery moan.

His head slowly leaned down, his lips touching hers. A teasing kiss at first, toying with her lips to make her press herself upwards into his lips. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his lips. She felt her legs shake as he deepened it suddenly, his tongue demanding entrance, pushing past hers and exploring her mouth as if it were a sea he’d had yet to conquer.

“Get them britches off...I wanna see all of what I’m working with here.” He released her breast, sitting back down in his chair, his legs splayed wide, she could see the growing bulge that strained his pants a little; already she could tell he was much more than she’d had before.

She did as he asked, lowering them slowly. His eyes followed them down to the floor and slowly drank her in, his eyes lifting over her legs, her thighs. She felt a heat pulsate between her legs as his eyes seemed focused on the blonde tuft of hair that adorned her sex.

He no longer smiled, but his eyes were worshipful and darkened with desire. She could help but feel some pride at clearly garnering his attraction. He slapped his hand on the table a few times, beckoning her. She obeyed, feeling a little exposed, being completely nude in front of him, not having been so ever before. Even the joke of a courtship she’d had, he’d been to nervous so she’d kept her underclothes on the entire time.

She hopped up on the table, perched on the edge as he leaned forward.

“I think you know what I want you to do now.” His voice was more gravely by the second. His hands rested on her knees. She obeyed him again, parting her legs. She breathed quickly, her breasts almost heaving as his face leaned between her legs. He took a large inhale, letting her scent. He could smell her arousal, “You like this shit, doll? Damn I heard you french girls were into some freaky shit.”

Lucille felt herself go speechless to his teasing. She leaned back on her hands, giving him better access, her wordless request for him to continue. She almost jumped as he tasted her. His tongue thick and warm, almost rough against her tender, sensitive lips made her feel weakened, for sure knew she would do anything to let him do this to her for the rest of her life.

His mouth worked her masterfully. His hums from enjoying her sweetness vibrated against her clit, driving her quickly towards an edge she had only ever gotten to by herself, and most surely never this intensely.

“C-Captain…” She whimpered, her delicate hand lay softly on his hair. When he didn’t protest, she let her fingers sink into his locks, pressing his head more firmly against her sex, now soaked from a mix of his mouth and her wetness. His thick finger teased her entrance causing her hips, on their own accord to twitch, sinking into her.

“Captain WHAT?” He demanded, gently biting down on her clit. She squirmed a little, bucking into his face as she panted.

“Captain Negan,” She immediately whimpered, “Please sir...make me cum. Please, please, please!” Her instinctual eroticism took over, as her body continued to gyrate, working herself towards a release that she was craving desperately.

Her moans were cut short as the intensity of her orgasm rocked her body to the core, shuddering as he growled against her, his finger finally sinking in, working her through her orgasmic aftershocks.

“Absolutely...fucking dripping..” Negan sat back, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, grinning smugly. She continued to pant on the table, her sex throbbing and aching for more.

“Knees...get down here on your fucking knees.” He said it through almost gritted teeth as he swiftly undid his red sash. He slid his hand down his pants, he gripping himself, stroking. She did exactly as she was told, her eyes wide and innocent as she knew what he was asking, but never having done so herself.

His large hand held her cheek for a moment, humming as he stroked himself. He leaned back farther in his chair as he displayed himself to her, and oh, what a man he was. She couldn’t help but lick her lips as the size of it. Thick and swollen, she could smell the musk from it that dilated her senses into an erotic frenzy.

“Open up, Lucille…” He grinned as he said it, his hand drawing her face to it, guiding the tip around her lips before parting them. He hissed as the head sunk into her warm mouth and her tongue greeted it. She slowly ran her tongue around the ridge, sliding his tip in and out of her mouth, watching him for a reaction. She took more in as his large hand encouraged her to do so, pressing the back of her head. His hand gripped her hair firmly as she struggled to swallow more and more of his throbbing, regal manhood.

His taste was salty and musky, but she couldn’t get enough of it, bathing his shaft with her tongue, humming and whimpering for more. She was caught off guard when he lifted her mouth from him. He pulled her face close to his, she felt him hard and pulsing against her belly as he did.

“Much more of that shit, doll, and you’ll be swallowing what I’ve got for you.” He surprised her by standing quickly and lifting her as if she were weightless. She bounced a little on the bed as he dropped her. He tore off his shirt, stripping completely himself as he looked down upon her wanting body.

As he slid over her, he hooked an arm around her leg, drawing it high, opening her to him.

“Fucking tight little bitch aren’t you…” He grunted, his face inches from her as he thrust in slowly. Each inch filled her like nothing before, drawing a long, wanton groan from her.

“It’s...your cock...it’s so huge, Captain Negan…” She purred, feeling her belly tingle at the knowing grin that spread across his face.

“Fucking right it is.” He growled once more, kissing her roughly as his hips set a punishing pace, working in her like it was an actual punishment. But punishment couldn’t be farther from what Lucille felt. Her body aflame, she was overwhelmed by sexual gratification. The feel of his sweat-slickened body against hers intensifying her arousal. She was aware her noises were not leaving much to the imagination of anyone with in earshot, but she was finding it less and less important to her to conceal any of it.

She whimpered in disappointment as he withdrew, only to be immediately satisfied when he flipped her over and entered her from behind. Negan leaned over her, biting her neck and shoulders as he grunted, each thrust a culmination of his power. His hands gripped her back side, smacking down on it.

“Such a….fine fucking ass…” He snarled, “God damn, you’re a good fuck girl…” He thrusted in her a few more strokes before leaving her sex again, laying back on the bed.

“Get up here and ride your Captain…” He pulled her by the arms and she eagerly straddled him. Her little experience seemed to have no ill-effect on her abilities as she let her intuition take over, sinking him in her and grinding her hips. She loved the way his large hands possessively roamed her, squeezing, pinching, slapping. It was no surprise to her that she came against, her body shuddering the muscles of her sex tightening around him as she cried out his name.

“Oh...OH...OH CAPTAIN NEGAN!” She squealed as she let it overtake her.

“Yeah doll...FUCK...let ‘em hear ya.!” He slapped her ass to encourage her.

Nega’s hands gripped her hips, forcing her to fuck him rapidly as he became more and more needy for his own release. She acquiesced, more than willing to let him use her for his own fulfillment. She felt his shaft growing, stretching her more. He bit his lip as he slid out of her and into his hand. He worked himself roughly, holding her in place as he came, shooting streams of his warm seed onto her belly, gasping and seething.

Lucille watched as he came, his release bringing her more satisfaction that she’d assumed she would feel. As he stroked himself down from his zenith, she gently rubbed his seed on her, stimulated by his attention as she did. She brought some to her lips, humming as she tasted him.

“God fucking damn it, doll...are you for real?” His words were teasing, but his face told her he was more than entertained by it.

Soon they both were on their backs, recovering from the vigorous session. Negan rolled over slowly his hand gripping tightly around her sex making her shiver.

“As long as this pussy stays only for me. You have nothing to worry about on this ship.” His terms were simple, but straightforward. She nodded her head in acceptance.

“Captain Negan...I think you’ve ruined me for any other man.” She purred, letting her finger slide along his jawline. His smug grin returned.

“Good fucking answer.”

#ash’s round 3 negan challenge #twdsm #negan #negan smut #negans thirst squad #twd fanfiction #negan fanfiction

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embracetheapocalypsewithme · 7 years

Text

Bedtime Stories

This is the first of two prompts I picked for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash‘s third writing challenge! The prompt for this one is “Caught Reading Fanfiction”...oooh! Scandal!

Summary: Sandra (aka. Mouse) is a timid, quiet woman who spends her days fantasizing about fucking Negan’s brains out. She discovers a group of other women living in the Sanctuary who feel the same way, and they collectively begin to write smutty, fictional stories featuring their sexy leader. But what happens when he catches her reading one? Will he let it go, or find some way to punish her for writing about him?

Word Count: 3,688

Warnings: Smut, smut and more smut! Swearing (of course), finger fucking, oral sex, hand jobs, and cum!

This is very loosely tied to another short fic I wrote called The Girl Named Mouse, but you do not have to have read that to enjoy this at all. The installment is a million times smuttier than the previous one. Enjoy!

Bedtime Stories

Sandra could feel his warm, rough hands gliding across the silk of her bare skin, from ass to neck. Slowly, gradually gaining territory as his fingers crept closer to their target: the long, dark hair that spilled over her shoulders.

A sudden burst of fire shuddered down her spine as he grabbed a handful near the base of her scalp, pulling her head back and up toward him gently but firmly. Negan’s hot breath puffed against her cheek as he leaned closer to whisper roughly in her ear:

“How d’ya do, Mouse-y Poo!?”

Sandra’s heart leapt instantaneously at the sound of Negan’s low, gravelly voice coming from right beside her. Her whole body shook with adrenaline as she quickly slammed the black notebook she held in her small hands shut quickly, hoping that he hadn’t caught her this time.

“I-um…N-nothing!” she stammered, jumping up from her place on the overstuffed easy chair which sat in the corner of the Sanctuary’s vacant common room.

It was before 10am on a weekend, so most of the building’s inhabitants were either sleeping or eating, leaving Sandra with the perfect opportunity to catch up on reading some smutty fan fiction in her favourite spot. She knew it was reckless to read literal erotica about the man who ran the whole bloody building in a place where she could easily be spotted by him or his Saviors, but she had assumed that he would be sleeping off another long night with his harem of wives.

Sandra, who was otherwise known as Mouse around the Sanctuary for her shy and nervous demeanor, had been part of Negan’s group since before he was even a part of it, so to speak. She had joined up with Dwight and Sherry around the time the world had gone to pieces and had survived alongside them until they had found Negan in the woods, wandering alone. Eventually she, along with the other group members, had agreed to follow Negan on a path that had led them all to the gates of the Sanctuary, and their current circumstances.

“Doesn’t look like fucking nothing, Mouse,” Negan replied as his eyes narrowed in on hers, “Looks really fucking interesting, in fact…”

He reached forward to grab for the book, but Sandra thwarted his plans by swinging it out of his reach and stepping away quickly until her back hit the wall behind her.

“It really n-nothing, Negan,” her eyes instinctively flitted down to stare at his heavy, black boots as they took a step toward her, “It’s just a stupid story.”

“Well, fuck! I like stories! I’ve read pretty much every fucking thing in my library twice already. Let me see, will ya! It’s too early to bone any of the wives yet and I’m bored as fuck…they’re all still sleeping. Fucking lazy asses, right?”

Sandra’s grip on the book tightened and she silently shook her head “no”. There were more than a few women in the Sanctuary who had contributed to the stories in the book, including herself, and they would all be furious if they knew that Negan had found out about it. The book in question held approximately twenty short stories within its pages; most of which were erotic in nature, and all of them featuring the Sanctuary’s fearless leader himself: Negan.

It had all started as a joke, mostly. One of the other female workers (Sandra couldn’t exactly remember which one) had made a comment about wanting to “Climb Negan like a mountain” one night in the cafeteria while they waited for the food to be served. A few people had overheard her comment, and somehow the ensuing conversation had snowballed into a group of roughly five of the building’s women cracking jokes about what they would do to their resident crude, murderous giant if they had the nerve to approach him. They called themselves “Negan’s Cock Fan Club” just to be crass. Sandra thought that Negan probably would have enjoyed that namesake, if he had known about it.

She had been too shy to participate at first, but as the months wore on and the pages of the book filled with an unimaginable amount of fictional encounters with the man, her curiosity had gotten the best of her. She started by just reading a few of the entries that the others had written, all under pen names of course, and had quickly been sucked into the imaginary bacchanalian world of constant sex and mischief with a man she had fantasized about so many times alone. Knowing that other women felt the same way she did made her feel a little bit less crazy.

It wasn’t long before she began to add her own stories to the collection, sending them out to the “Fan Club” to be read and enjoyed by what she had come to think of as Negan’s second-string harem. She felt proud to be part of an assemblage of “wives” that he had no idea existed. This sexy, little secret that she shared with the others brought a smile to her face, though she still had moments of bitter regret for having turned him down once upon a time when he had propositioned her in a hotel hallway. But that had been before the Sanctuary and the harem, when they had just been a group of survivors huddled together, trying to stay safe.

“Hey!” Negan’s expression softened into feigned hurt as Sandra shrank away from him, pressing her body against the wall, “Don’t act like I’m some big, fucking monster, Mouse. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yes,” she said softly, still staring down in embarrassment, “I know.”

“Good. But you also know that I could make your life very fucking unpleasant if you don’t hand over the book, don’t you?”

“I…just can’t. It’s not only mine. There are other people who would be really upset.”

“What? You guys fucking plotting a mutiny or something?” his voice lost its jovial edge with stunning rapidity and Sandra felt her stomach clench in fear.

“No!” her eyes shot up to meet his in terror, “Of course not! Never!”

She wanted to melt into the floor or flee back to the safety of her room, but she felt trapped in the corner of the small room, sinking into the quicksand of his gaze with her heart in her throat. His face had gone from the usual genial expression he always used with her to a mask of cold nothingness.

“Prove it,” he said simply and extended a gloved hand toward her palm up.

Sandra sighed deeply, slowly bringing the book out from behind her and depositing it into the outstretched hand. The other girls would never forgive her for letting him see the book, but it wasn’t as if she had a choice. If he thought that she was part of some kind of coup d’état, he would kill her for sure, in spite of his earlier assurances.

Time seemed to creep as he opened the book to the first page and began to read what was written there. After several seconds of watching his eyes dart from left to right, Mouse saw his face contort into a confused expression.

“What the actual fuckity fuck is this?” he said slowly, dragging out the vowels of actual dramatically as his eyes lifted to meet hers, “Is this fucking porn about me?”

“I…It’s…I didn’t write that one!”

“But you were fucking reading it, weren’t you Mousey? You fucking jill off to this? Thinking about me?”

Though he still looked very solidly weirded out by his discovery, Sandra thought that she detected a hint of curiosity in his voice. Sighing deeply she thought of how she should answer.

“It’s just for fun, you know. It’s…like…a release. It’s something fun and, um, creative I guess. And other people write them too!”

“Other people?”

“A few of us…”

“How fucking many?”

“I-I don’t know. I think we’re up to eight now.”

“Fucking eight?” Negan let out a brief chuckle, “Well, hot damn! That’s a whole lot of panties I’ve gotten wet without even knowing it!”

Sandra’s face immediately flushed red with embarrassment at his exclamation, and her gaze fell back to the floor.

“You fucking do touch yourself to this, don’t you?” Negan persisted, unwilling to let the topic drop, “Its ok, Mouse. You can tell me. Truth be told, I’ve spanked it more than once to the thought of you riding my cock off into the sunset. What do you think of that?”

Sandra shook her head from side to side, at a total loss for words. She felt as though her head was about to explode from the embarrassment that was written all over her face.

“Awe, Mousey, don’t be shy now,” he reached out a single gloved finger, touching it to her chin and gently guiding her gaze back up to meet his, “I won’t tell anyone. Not even my dear, sweet wives upstairs. Hell, those chicks don’t write fucking odes to my cock, that’s for damn sure! I’m honestly fucking flattered.”

“Th-thank you, Negan,” she stammered, her eyes flitting around his face.

“But you know I can’t just let you get away with writing this kind of smut without some kind of retribution,” he said, his tone lowering and his eyes taking on a predatory gleam.

“What do you mean?”

Without answering her, Negan turned around and strode confidently to the room’s door, first shutting it and then locking it from the inside with a dull click, “You’re gonna read me a little story, Mousey. One of your stories.”

“No! Negan, please!” she cried out, raising her voice to him for the first time she could remember.

“Mousey, Mouse, Mouse…” he said with an amused grin, “So you do have a voice! Good!” he tossed the book at her suddenly and she fumbled with it, finally getting a grip on the hard cover before it fell to the ground.

“I can’t-“

“No. Read,” he commanded before flopping into the armchair she had previously occupied, “One of yours too. I wanna see what’s in that filthy fucking head of yours.”

Sandra clamped her eyes shut for a moment before opening the book to search for one of her stories. Her mouth had gone dry and she swallowed hard before preparing to read to him. As she opened her mouth to speak, Negan cut her off.

“Wait! Not up there.”

“Huh?”

He patted his thigh and gave her a lecherous grin, “Come sit on my lap while you read to me, sweetheart.”

The temperature in the room seemed to rise instantly at his words, and she had begun to tremble with anxiety, but Sandra did has he commanded. She walked toward the chair as if in a trance, and gently lowered herself onto his left thigh. Her entire body was rigid with fear, causing her to practically hover over him in an unnatural way.

“Hey,” his voice was soft and warm, almost soothing, in her ear “Calm down. You’re not really in trouble, Mouse. I’m just playing around. If you want to stop, we can fucking stop. Just say the word.”

She considered escape for a moment, envisioning herself standing up and running out of the room with the book in her hands, leaving him alone in the chair with that smarmy grin on his face. But she remembered the regret she felt the last time she had turned him down, and the gnawing need for him that had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach, growing stronger every day.

She wanted him. She was tired of being a scared, little mouse.

“Sandra,” she said firmly, “My name is Sandra. Please stop calling me ‘Mouse’.”

Negan inhaled sharply beneath her, evidently taken by surprise at her talking back to him, and for a moment she feared that he would be offended by the correction, but she felt his body quake slightly with a chuckle, “Well, oh-fucking-kay then, Sandra. Why don’t you read that story to me, Sandra?”

A faint smile played on her lips and she relaxed back into him slightly as she brought the book up in front of her face, “Ok. I’ll start.”

Her lips felt sticky and too thick as she began the tale, which was a smutty little number about fucking him in the commissary after closing time, but soon the words dripped smoothly from her mouth like honey:

“’Negan pushed you roughly against the counter, his lips crashing into yours, and the scent of his leather jacket invading your nostrils. It wasn’t long until he had removed your shirt and bra, before burying his face in your tits, nipping and licking at the tender skin,’” she read aloud.

Sandra felt Negan’s weight shift under her in the chair, and at first she thought that she must be making him uncomfortable after all, but as she continued to read she felt a very distinct bulge press against her from below. She wasn’t making him uncomfortable; she was making him hard.

“’You stood over him, relishing the sight of Negan on his knees in front of you, before bending down and helping him to remove the tight, white t-shirt he wore from his chest and tossing it aside-“ the words were cut off by more movement behind her, this time a little more vigorous.

She watched in amazement as one of his muscular arms came out from behind her. The white t-shirt he had been wearing was clutched in his hand. After he seemed sure that she had noticed what he was doing, he let the garment drop to the floor without saying a word. Sandra turned around in confusion and was met with those deep, brown eyes staring back at her intently.

“What-“ she began.

“Just trying to add some motherfucking realism to the situation,” he replied simply, “Continue, Mou- Oh! Fuck! I mean, Sandra.”

“’Negan reached up and ran his calloused hands over your arms until he reached your shoulders and then allowed his fingers to trail across your chest before gently grabbing one of your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefinger.’”

To her amazement, Sandra felt a very real hand, which was surprisingly not at all calloused, trail up her arm before coming to rest at the strap of the tank top she wore. In one surprisingly graceful motion, Negan flicked the strap off of her shoulder.

“Mind if I take this off?” he asked. She could hear that is voice had become slightly breathy with arousal, “You know. For realism.”

“Ok. Sure. Yeah!” she could hardly conceal her excitement, and without even thinking about it, she pulled the top off, tossing it aside.

“Fuck yeah! That-a-girl, Mousey!” he cried, “Oh shit! Fuck! Sorry! Sandra, Sandra, Sandra!"

"You’re starting to get it!”

“Yeah, I’m a little thick sometimes. Heh. In more ways than one,” he punctuated his last point with a pelvic thrust that caused his erection to dig into her leg.

Without fully realizing it, Sandra emitted a slight moan.

“You like that, Sandra?” he asked before grabbing one of her breasts in his hand and squeezing it tentatively, “Mmmm. That’s really fucking nice. Fucking A-plus titties! Hey! You feel like doing a little multi-tasking?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Instead of answering verbally, Negan shifted in his seat again and Sandra heard the unmistakable sound of him unzipping his pants. A moment later one of his hands found its way to her unoccupied extremity and guided it back to touch the soft skin of his extremely hard cock.

Sandra gasped as a flood of arousal took hold of her, causing her thighs to clench around Negan’s leg. She squirmed in his lap and tightened her grip on his hardened member, feeling a bead of precum drip onto her hand.

“Oh fuck! Christ yes! Stroke me a bit while you read, baby.”

Sandra did as she was told, maintaining a tight grip around him while she slowly glided her hand up and down his shaft. He hadn’t exaggerated about being thick earlier; her small hand could close around the girth of his cock, but only barely. As she touched him, her eyes re-focused on the words that danced across the notebook’s pages.

“Where was I? Oh! Right: ‘His hands continued to tour your body hungrily, as if he needed to touch every inch of you to claim you as his own.”

As she read, Sandra felt Negan’s hot breath on the back of her neck. His lips trailed against the tender skin of her pulse, sending a shiver through her body. Her voice faltered for a moment as his hands made their way to her hips and his fingers began to play with the waistband of the pants she wore, but she soon regained her composure.

“’H-he…um…he suddenly jerked your skirt down to the floor, taking your panties along with it, and pushed you back against the wall, causing your pussy to move forward and open to him, granting him access to you.’”

In reality, Negan had made his way to the button which held Sandra’s pants closed and popped it open with his thumb. His fingers dipped below the loosened fabric and softly grazed her cotton underwear, tracing the outline of her slit, and causing her to gasp sharply at another shudder of pleasure.

“Please don’t stop,” she whimpered.

“It doesn’t say that on the page…”

“Please, Negan!”

“Keep reading and I’ll keep going,” he teased.

“Ok,” she sighed in annoyance, “‘Negan buried his face into your folds, teasing you open and probing around with his tongue. First taking small, exploratory licks before lapping up your juices and swirling his tongue around your clit expertly.’”

“Fucking shit, you’re good with your hands, and your stories are fucking filthy,” he moaned, craning his head back against the chair.

Sandra continued to stroke his cock while she read, increasing her pace as the lust overtook her. Negan wasted no time in fulfilling his promise to her by roughly pushing aside the panties she wore and burying two fingers deep inside of her. The sensation of fullness was immediate and extreme, and Sandra ground against him with a deep moan.

“Oh god! ‘He-he continued to lick you into ecstasy, sucking your clit into his lips as his hands grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to him and…and m-maneuvering you just the way he wanted you.’”

With every other word she read aloud, Negan rammed his fingers firmly inside of her, pounding her G-spot and causing rushes of the most wonderful sensations to course through her limbs. It was becoming difficult to focus on the story, and even harder to speak, but she tried to soldier on whilst milking his cock with a fluid motion that made Negan’s breath hitch in his chest.

“Fuck! Christ, Sandra! You’re gonna have me make a mess all over this chair soon,” he practically growled at her and she could feel the muscles in his thighs tensing below her ass.

As if to punish her in a very backwards way, Negan pressed his thumb firmly against her clit and began to circle it, using the wet arousal that had flowed from her opening and covered his fingers as lube. Sandra let out a sharp scream of pleasure, which was muffled by a large hand over her mouth.

“Shhh! Fucking quiet down! Don’t want anyone walking in on us, do you? Now finish the story so I can finish on you.”

“Oh my god! Please don’t stop! I’m so close!”

“Keep reading…” he warned sternly, with a desperate edge to his tone.

“’Negan’s face glistened with your sweet h-honey as you ground against his lips, using his mouth to get you off. Legs trembling, you came hard and f-f-fast…’ Oh fuck yes! Right there, Negan!” she lost herself for a moment, nearly following the story’s timing into the heights of orgasm, but quickly regained control, “’…with…with an earth shattering rapidity that threatened to send you tumbling to the ground. But he caught you and held you…in…in place as you were undone by the roaring bliss filling your-‘“

Sandra’s words were cut off by low guttural moaning from behind her as she continued to pump Negan’s cock steadily. Seconds later her hand was covered in his warm cum. She could feel it land all over her arm and left thigh, dripping thickly to the chair’s upholstery. Looking down, she enjoyed watching the evidence of his lust for her gleaming in the light and snaking across her flesh.

As he came, his fingers curled deep inside of her while his thumb began to work her clit in double time. This, combined with the knowledge that she had brought him to orgasm with just the combination of her words and hand, caused Sandra to careen over the precipice of orgasm. Her breath puffed out in tight jolts ecstasy as her head strained back and into the crook of his shoulder. She could feel him still breathing heavily from behind as he held her through the spasms until she could control her muscles again.

“Sweet fuckity God damn! That was a fucking work of art, my dear!” his voice sounded dazed an heavy, and Sandra could feel the muscles in his legs relax into the chair’s cushions.

“Well, thank you!” she said earnestly, standing on still-shaking legs and buttoning her pants.

“You got a lot more of those floating around in that book of yours?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. A few, I suppose.”

“Well, rest up! Because I think I just might need someone to come read me a fucking bedtime story tonight if you get where I’m going with this,” he paused for a moment, “That is to say, I wanna fuck that sweet little pussy of yours tonight, if you’ll let me.”

“Yes, Negan. I had gathered that much.”

“You always were a fucking smarty pants, MousssSandra!” he slurred her nickname and real names together in an attempt to cover up his mistake, “Shit! I’m getting better at least.”

“Yeah. I think I am too.”

#ash’s round 3 negan challenge #comicnegan>#negan's thirst squad #negan fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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crzcorgi · 7 years

Text

Time Changes Everything

This is for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash Ash’s Round 3 Negan Challenge. My prompt was The Ugly Duckling. Once again, thank you Ash, for letting me join!

Please give me feedback on this, it’s very different than any other thing I’ve written. 😘

Negan X ?

1200 words

No warnings just a bit of angst with a happy ending

Tagging ~ @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @negans-network

They were inseparable. Well as much as two 5 year olds in a world controlled by adults could be. Wherever he went, she followed. And vice versa. She loved to swim, so he overcame his fear of water to be with her. She hated loud noises, so he held her hand as they watched the fireworks.

And so it was, for many years. They were always together, in school, their parents making sure they were always in the same classroom. At their homes, taking turns playing in each other’s room or yard. Of course, being next door neighbors made that easy.

But one day, it all changed. A day she would never forget. The day her best friend, her soulmate as she would call him, broke her heart in a million pieces.

“She’s ugly dude! Why do you wanna hang around her? What with those nerd glasses, frizzy hair and beyond dorky attitude! Damn man, no hot chick is goin’ look your way when she’s hanging around you!”

She heard her Negan, the boy she swore to love forever, respond. But she couldn’t believe his words.

“But dude! I’ve known her forever, she’s like my sister!”

Sister, that stung.

“No hot girl is gonna think I’m with her, I mean, look at me and look at her!”

But that burned.

He laughed, his friends joining in. She never thought it was possible for a whole life to be destroyed in just a few minutes. But she found out it can be.

After running home, her mother’s sweet words of comfort, and a nice warm bath, she decided to move on, grow from the pain as her dear mother said. But the loss, the pure ache would never disappear.

She ignored Negan whenever he would talk to her, acting as if she hadn’t a clue about his mean and hurtful ways. She moved on. And so did Negan.

Soon it was graduation, she was beyond excited! She had gotten into the best teaching school on the east coast. As she was placing her graduation cap carefully on her beautiful curly locks, her mother stepped into the bathroom.

“I think it’s time to bury the hatchet and congratulate Negan on graduating. His mother has said that it was a very trying year for him. Very touch and go on whether he would even get here.”

She wanted to say, it’s his own damn fault, mother, what with the wild partying, getting kicked off the baseball team and an unwanted pregnancy scare, it’s no wonder.

But she kept her mouth shut and nodded her head ‘yes.’ Hugging her mother tightly, she thanked her for all she had done, especially for the words she had shared on one sad afternoon.

After the ceremony, she made her way to him, hesitant, still so gun-shy from years ago.

“Congratulations Negan, you did it!” She held her hand out to him, but he quickly surprised her when he pulled her into a hug. Oh how she missed him. So terribly.

“Congrats to you too, doll! But everyone knew you could do it, but you know, fuck up that I am I guess it’s a big fucking deal I’m wearing the cap and fucking gown!” And then he laughed, that beautiful laugh that hardly changed over the years, the one she truly missed.

Negan took in a deep breath as he pulled back and looked at her. She was breathtaking, just so beautiful, what happened to that little awkward girl with glasses and fly away hair that loved books as much as eating and didn’t look in anyone’s eyes? This exquisite thing standing in front of him was not at all that doll he swore he would marry one day. And he had left her behind, when he decided he was too fucking cool. And she moved on, without him. The ugly duckling became a beautiful swan.

Time moves on, and soon it was autumn, her favorite season. The falling leaves, the crisp dry air and her most favorite part, back to school. She had packed her tiny VW with everything she would need in her dorm room, including quite a few boxes of books. She waved goodbye to her parents, deciding it would be too hard to say goodbye on the campus, asking them to stay home.

When she reached the campus, she stopped her car to take it all in. She was here, her dream of becoming a teacher coming true. She was was jolted out of her daydream by a honking horn and yelling.

“Get a fucking move on, this is a road, not a shittin’ parking lot!”

She would recognize that voice anywhere, Negan.

Pulling over into a parking spot by her dorm, she got out, watching as Negan pulled into the spot next to her.

“Doll? Well, what the fuck?! You’re an incoming student here too?” His arms spread out in a welcoming fashion.

“Too?” She had to admit that she was honestly surprised at this.

“I fucking am!”

They started talking about their plans, both of them wanting to teach, Negan in sports, her in English.

“Need some help with your boxes?”

“Yes, please, that would be great. Then maybe I can help you?”

“No need doll. I’ve been here a week already, I’m fucking set.”

As they carried her things inside the elevator , she told him which floor, causing Negan to laugh.

“Same floor as me doll! Go fucking figure, next door neighbors again!”

Fall turned to winter, which soon became spring. They were nearing the end of their first year of college, and a reunited friendship.

“Can’t spend all your fucking time studying doll! Gotta have some fun, you’re only young once!”

“But Negan, we also need to graduate, get a job.”

So they spent all of their free time together, studying, at the library, her choices. At a party, at a game, his choices. They complimented each other, his playful fun side, her serious mature side. You might say they were made for each other. Soulmates.

And once again, time moved on, as it does, and 4 years came and went.

“I’ve got an interview Negan, at our old school. Come with me for support?”

“Fuck doll, I promised Jim I’d go to the Rusty Lantern to watch the game.”

Rising up on her tiptoes, she gave his cheek a small peck, knowing how her sweetness always turned him to mush. “Please Negan!”

He smiled, taking her hand and leading her to his car. The game and Jim can wait. His girl would always come first.

As they stepped into their old school, something caught her eye.

“Negan, look! They’re looking for a gym teacher! It’s perfect!!!”

That day saw the couple both having interviews.

“I think they liked me Negan! And I’m sure you’re a shoe-in, everybody loves you!” She cooed as she cuddled into his side.

“From your mouth to God’s ears doll!” He leaned down and gently kissed her head.

_______________________________________________

“Negan, hurry! We can’t be late!”

“I’m coming doll, I just couldn’t find my fucking shoe!”

As they stepped into the entrance to their high school, her as the new 9th grade Language Arts teacher, him as the boys new phys ed coach, they smiled.

“Ready doll?”

“Ready Negan!”

On her toes, she kissed him, this time on his lips, and as his wife.

“Love you!”

“Love you back!”

And he watched her walk down the hall, he couldn’t believe his luck. He had won back his best friend, his true love, his soulmate.

His Lucille.

#ash's round 3 negan challenge #negan's thirst squad #negans-network #negan fanfiction #negan #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan #crzcorgi writes #crzcorgi crz 4 negan

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bamby0304 · 7 years

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Making Fun a Priority III

For Ash's Writing Challenge Round 3. My prompt was Vibrator… never really used kinks in my stories before (intentionally, at least) so bear with me guys… Before I get started though, I think I should mention that I won't be using the prompt how most people probably think it would be used… I know that might not make sense, but all I can really say without giving up too much is that I'll be using vibrations and not a vibrator.

Summary: Brandi was on cloud nine. It had been a few days since she and Negan had been together, and she was still coming down from the high he'd given her. But despite how good she still felt, Brandi was sure that Negan was done with her. That he'd had his fun and that it was over… Oh boy is she in for a surprise…

Warnings: Smut and language.

Bamby

I felt amazing. I felt like I was on top of the world. My smile hadn't left my lips once over the last two days. Nothing could ruin the mood I was in. I felt incredible. Well… for the most part I did. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was still buzzing from sleeping with Negan. I still couldn't believe it had actually happened. But it had been a short-lived moment.

After we'd had sex, Negan and I had fallen asleep. By the time I woke up, it was dark and I was alone.

Negan had been nice enough to set some clothes on the end of his bed, for me to wear. Seeing as my clothes were still very wet and very muddy, he'd given me a pair of black sweat pants, and one of his white shirts. Of course, Negan and I had completely different body shapes and sizes… Where he was tall, I was tiny. Where he was lean and muscled, I was on the almost-too-unhealthy side of thin.

When I put his clothes on, I had to use my hair tie to tie pants so they'd stay in place. I also had to roll them up and hope I wouldn't trip- though knowing me I still would. The shirt was baggy, but not to the point where I was at risk of revealing anything, which meant I didn't have to worry about it too much. Though my anxiety constantly had me checking to make sure I wasn't flashing anything. He'd left me some socks as well, which were the only form of footwear I had to wear, to get back to my room.

Which is what I'd done. As soon as I was dressed, I'd gotten out of there. I didn't want to wait around. I wasn't sure if he wanted me to be there when he got back. I wasn't sure if he wanted me gone. I wasn't sure if he would have even cared. But I did.

I wanted to rest in my own bed. I wanted to be surrounded by some form of normality.

Having sex with Negan had been incredible, unforgettable. But it had also been surreal, and now that I was awake again- now that I was alone- I needed a moment to think it all over.

So, I'd limped back to my room- my ankle seemed to be worse than I thought it might be- and stayed there until I needed to go back to work the next day.

Negan never came looking for me, or his clothes.

But despite all that, I still felt incredible… and it seemed Eunice, Mags and Rosie had noticed.

Watching me carefully as I folded some clothes, Eunice tried to figure out what was different about me. "You look happy. Why?"

"Does there have to be a reason?" I countered.

"Of course." She replied as if that was obvious.

I chuckled lightly. "Well, there is none. I'm just happy."

"And glowy." Rosie added, smiling up at me. "You've been glowing for days."

Mags came over to stand next to me, looking me up and down as if she could figure it out. I'd been skeptical about the idea, until she spoke up.

"Have you been seeing someone?"

I could feel myself getting paler as my smile slipped for the shortest moment… I just hoped it hadn't been long enough for any of them to notice. The last thing I needed was for them to think I was seeing someone. They'd start asking questions. Questions I wouldn't answer. Which means they'd go snooping around, and I was pretty sure that would lead them to the truth.

If they found out I'd slept with Negan… I don't think that would go down very well. Eunice hated him with a passion. She thought he was rude and cruel, and monstrous. Mags joked around, she liked to make fun of the fact that I liked Negan, but she didn't like him much either. Hell, Rosie even thought he was scary. There was no way in hell any of them would accept me starting anything up with Negan.

Not that anything had or would start up. I reminded myself.

"Nonsense." Eunice spoke up, pulling me from my thoughts. She looked to Mags as if she thought the other older woman was insane. "Our Brandi knows better than that. She knows now is not the time to go falling head over heels for some silly male."

I frowned slightly. "Uh… who said anything about falling head over heels?"

"It's in your eyes, silly." Rosie stepped up to my other side, lifting a hand to tap the side of my glasses.

My eyes went wide for a moment. "Are you saying you think I'm falling for a guy? That's ridiculous?"

"See." Eunice gave a firm nod. "I told you she's smart."

Rolling her eyes, Mags turned back to me. "Not saying your falling for a guy, sweetie. It's just… you do seem to be happier. And like Rosie said, you have been glowing? If you're not seeing someone, you must at least have gotten some kind of action." she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

Laughing again, I shook my head as I turned back to my work. "I swear you're like a twenty-something year old."

"She acts like it." Eunice grumbled. "Gosh I wish you were more mature."

"And I wish you were more fun." Mags countered.

Just like that, we got back to work. Neither of the ladies mentioned my change of attitude. No one brought up the subject of my dating, love, or sex life again. We just got back to cleaning and folding clothes, filling up the time with the usual conversation and laughter.

…

The sound of loud clangs echoing through the whole laundry-mat had everyone stop what they were doing and turn in the direction on the entrance. We all knew that sound. We all knew what was coming. Or well, who was coming. Negan.

Eunice, Mags, Rosie and I weren't the only ones who worked in the laundry. There were a few other people who came and went as they pleased. They had different jobs that had them all over the place. Seeing the faces of the nine or so extra people standing around, I could tell they wished they were anywhere but here at that moment.

When Negan walked around the corner, we all dropped to our knees and bowed our heads. We waited for me to speak, to let us back up. We waited to find out why he was here and what he wanted.

See the thing is, Negan very rarely came down to the laundry. I think I might have seen him down here two other times in the year or so that I'd lived at the Sanctuary. So seeing him here was a surprise to all of us, but it had me feeling a little extra nervous as I wondered if I was the reason why he was making an appearance.

We all heard his low chuckle as he walked to the middle of the room. "As you were." He called. Just like that, we were all up, getting back to work.

I winced at the pain in my ankle, and limped slightly as I moved to fold the basket of clothes I'd been working on before. But other than that, I did nothing to stand out for the crowd… of course, I already stood out from the crowd…

I felt his presence before I heard him. The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I was sure he'd come to stand behind me. I swear I could even smell him… and it was turning me on.

He was turning me on. All of him.

"Why the fuck are you working?" he asked me.

Still folding the clothes, I answered without turning to him. "Because it's my job, sir."

"I know it's your fucking job. But you're hurt, and the last fucking thing I need is for you to do more damage. Knowing how fucking clumsy you are, I'm surprised you haven't already."

"I'm fine." I insisted… which I regretted almost instantly.

"Are you disobeying orders?"

I jumped at the feel of his hand brushing the side of my arm. The back of his knuckles slid up my skin, leaving raised goosebumps behind. I did everything I could not to react, but I couldn't stop myself from freezing completely, my hands still holding the shirt I'd been working on.

"Answer me, doll." he was speaking in a lower and quieter voice now, so only I could hear him.

"N-n-no, I'm not disobeying." I barely managed to get out as my voice shook as much as my legs were.

His fingers had reached my shoulder and were now playing with the small hairs that I couldn't tuck into my high bun. "I liked it when you called me sir." he almost growled.

My own fingers were gripping the shirt so tightly, I felt and heard some of the seams rip. The sound had me drop the material before I quickly turned around to face him. Still not looking up at his face, I chose to look over his shoulder instead. It was only then that I noticed the other Saviours with him. Simon, Arat and Dwight.

Seeing them had me forget about my nervous as a curiosity began to bubble. Finally looking up at Negan, I gave him a questioning look, which he responded by giving me one of his signature grins.

Stepping and turning away from me, Negan addressed the rest of the workers, who had been so preoccupied by their own jobs that they hadn't even glanced at Negan or myself- not even Eunice, Mags or Rosie had… at least I hoped.

"Everybody, stop what you're doing." he ordered. Sure enough one by one everyone did as he said. Once all working ceased, Negan went on. "Surprise inspection time! All of you need to get the hell out so we can have these machines looked over. Don't need them fucking up on us. So, you're all done for the day. Get the hell out."

At first, everyone looked a little surprised and shocked, but after a couple of seconds, everyone started to walk hurriedly to the door. It was as if they couldn't wait to be free from Negan's presence. Or well, most of the workers went to leave. Mag, Eunice and Rosie paused to look at me as they waited for me to follow them out.

Before I speak or move, Negan looked to the older woman. "Yes?" he asked expectantly.

"We're waiting for Brandi." Rosie smiled kindly, although I didn't miss her shifting a little closer to Eunice.

"She's staying here. I need someone to throw the wet clothes in the drier." Negan told her matter-of-factly.

Eunice looked from Negan, to me, and then to Simone, Dwight and Arat. "What? They can't do it?" she asked, gesturing to the Saviours. "Brandi's injured, they're healthy. It would make more sense." she noted. The fact she was questioning Negan had my jaw drop.

He just chuckled lightly. "You worried about her or something?"

Mags didn't hesitate as she answered his question. "Of course."

I watched as Negan shifted on the spot for a moment, rolling Lucille slightly as she sat on his shoulder. I wasn't sure if he was getting pissed off, seeing as these women weren't doing as he said, and they were questioning him. If he was getting pissed, that wasn't good. If he wasn't, then colour me surprised. But either way, I wasn't going to risk finding out what he was going to do or say next.

Giving the three women reassuring looks, I nodded to in the direction of the exit. "I'll be fine. You guys should go. I'll see you tomorrow." I assured them.

With one last unsure glance at Negan and myself, Eunice was the first to move. She nudged Rosie and grabbed Mags' arm before they all turned to leave.

The room fell silent for a few seconds after they'd left. The weight of it pressed down on my chest uncomfortably. I wasn't sure what was coming next, and that was scaring the hell out of me. But I was trying to trust Negan. I wanted to trust him.

"Simon." Negan looked to his right-hand man. "Why don't you, Arat and Dwighty-boy get to work on those machines over there." he gestured to the empty washing machines close by. "We’re gonna get all this wet crap in the driers." he told them as he grabbed a basket of wet clothes.

"On it." Simon nodded as he moved to give orders to the others and get to work himself.

With his people now busily working Negan turned to me. "You wanna show me where the driers are, doll?"

Nodding, I grabbed a basket for myself as I turned for the room off to the side where we had a few driers that were only used for certain occasions Meaning we only ever used them if directly ordered to, or if we were doing Negan's laundry.

The two of us said nothing as we got to work, throwing the clothes in the driers. Negan ended up doing most of the work after he saw how much I was actually limping. Though it wasn't like I was in much pain. It was more uncomfortable than anything. Not that he would believe me.

So I'd stepped aside and let him do what he wanted. I ended up leaning against the bench in the room as I watched him reaching into each machine to throw clothes inside. Some were front loaders, some were top loaders… but the front loaders were my favourite. Seeing him bend like that. My eyes definitely wandered.

After he'd thrown the clothes into the machines, he walked out to get another basket. On the way to the door, he'd passed the bench and given me a stern look. One that said, 'don't move'. Knowing better than to go against his orders, I stayed exactly where I was.

When Simon walked in, I was definitely surprised. The fact he was carrying a basket surprised me even more. When he bent over to throw clothes into one of the machines, I was wondering if I my surprise could grow even more… When my eyes began to wander and I found myself looking him up and down… Well it's safe to say I'd never been more surprised in my life

"You enjoying yourself, doll?"

I jumped at the sound of Negan's voice. Turning to look at where he stood in the doorway, I felt my cheeks began to redden as I wondered what the scene must look like to him. Me staring at his right-hand man's ass… I was pretty sure that wasn't something he'd wanted to see.

Simon stood up and looked from Negan to me, clearly having no clue as to what Negan was talking about.

"Simon," Negan slowly pulled his gaze from mine as he turned to the other man, "Why don't you go back out there and make sure the Dwight isn't fucking up any of the machines."

Shrugging, Simon started for the door. "No problem." he nodded as he left the room.

Negan reached forward and rolled the metal door across. It was rarely moved, which meant it was a little hard to close and made an awfully loud screeching noise, but Negan didn't seem to care. The look on his face told me as much. At that moment, he wanted privacy, and that's all that mattered.

Once the door was closed, he started to walk towards me. "You gonna answer the question, doll?"

Backing up, I watched him continue to head my way while I tried to find my voice. But it seemed I was suddenly mute. Or well, I couldn't speak. I was too nervous, with a slight bubbling fear waiting in the corner as I wondered what he was going to do now. Now that he'd seen me eyeing Simon.

Yet I knew I had to speak, and I knew his patience would run thin very soon. So, with no other choice, I said the first thing that came to mind… and instantly regretted it.

"I can eye other people if I want. We've screwed around a bit, but that's it. I mean, it's not like we're an item, or that I belong to you."

Idiot.

Negan stopped walking. Looking me up and down as he silently thought, he reached over to lay Lucille on the bench.

The movement had been minor, and was finished in a matter of moments, but it had been long enough for me to think about what he might do next. Was he going to yell at me? Laugh? Was he angry? Amused? Did he agree with me? Or was I wrong? Did sleeping with him mean I was now his?

No. I wasn't. He may think I am, but I didn't want to be like one of his wives. I was my own person, and if he thought us sleeping together meant I was now his to boss around and have fun with whenever he wanted, then he was sorely mistaken.

Before he could speak, I went on, needing to get y point across. "You have six wives Negan. Six. I'm just another girl to you. But I'm not just another girl, I deserve more than some random tumble here and there. I deserve more than a guy who probably doesn't even know my name." straightening myself up, holding my chin high, I started for the door, determined to walk right out of there.

Of course, my aching ankle wasn't making it easy… It was probably the reason why Negan rolled his eyes and sighed as I went to pass him.

Grabbing me, he lifted me off the ground and carried me over to one of the machines that wasn't on, setting me on top of it. "You done." when I just folded my arms over my chest and glared at him, he shook his head in amusement. "First of all, doll, you have no idea how cute you are when you're angry. Secondly, my wives have got nothing to do with this. I fuck who I want when I want. You think if I didn't care about you I would have dragged my ass all the way down to this shithole of a laundry? No. And thirdly, your name is Brandi." my eyes went wide with surprise. He just nodded. "Yeah, I know you're name. So, if you're done, I would very much like to screw your brains out now."

All I could do was nod my head, unable to form words. I was still too surprised. Still shocked from finding out he actually does know my name.

Grinning, he slowly leaned down to press a kiss to my lips. It was slow and sensual and just made me melt. The way his hand came up to cup my cheek. Oh, God. I groaned, leaning into him more.

He pulled back slightly as his hand that had been resting on the machine, next to my leg, came up to tug on the hem of my shirt… or should I say his shirt.

"I was going to get this back, but seeing you wearing my clothes… Fuck. Me. You're so fucking hot." he groaned, his fingers moving to slid under the shirt. "Keep it on."

I wasn't sure if that was an order or a request, but either way I was definitely going to listen. The idea that me wearing his clothes turned him on, turned me on. Hell, the idea that I turned him on, turned me on, is that weird?

As his lips found mine again, I found myself unable to concentrate on anything outside the little bubble that was forming around us. I was so engrossed in the moment that Simon or one of the others could end up walking in on us, and I wouldn't even notice. All that mattered to me at that moment was Negan… and getting what I wanted from him.

Knowing what was coming, I felt no need to take my time. My heat was growing quickly, and I wanted him. Now.

Reaching for my jeans, I unbuttoned and zipped them before shifting so I could slip them off. Negan stepped back as I did, grinning as he watched me wriggle out of my pants. He grabbed at my boots and pulled them off so my pants could fall to the ground. Biting my lip, I slipped my hands underneath my shirt and worked the clip of my bra so I could pull the garment off. Negan watched my every move, his eyes following the bra as it fell to the floor.

As soon as my bra touched the ground, I looked up at Negan.

His eyes scanned my entire length. His gaze moved slowly as if he were trying to take in every inch of bare skin. The colour of his eyes grew darker and darker the longer he stared. The bulge in his pants became more and more apparent. But it was when his tongue peaked out to run along his lips… that's when I thought I was going to pass out right then and there.

I squeezed my thighs together, feeling my need and want burning between my legs.

Stepping closer again, Negan lifted his hand to grip my hair gently so he could tilt my head to the side. I felt him nibble at the spot between my neck and shoulder, as his other hand slid down my leg. Everything inside me was buzzing. I felt so alive, feeling him touch me, and we hadn't even gotten to the best part yet.

"I wanna have a little fun first." I felt him grin against my skin as his hand left my leg. "I hope you're ready, doll."

The next thing I heard was the sound of a button being pressed before I felt the machine underneath me shift.

I jumped back, pulling away from Negan as my jaw fell and my hands gripped the machine. "What are you doing?"

Negan simply grinned.

Before I knew it, the machine began to move more. Faster this time. It began to vibrate underneath me as I gripped onto its edges for dear life.

Reaching for my hips, Negan adjusted my position as if he knew exactly what he was doing… which I guess he did. "Just enjoy it." he continued to grin as he watched me.

The new position felt… different. It was like nothing I'd felt before.

My eyes rolled back, my back arched. A moan escaped my lips as I felt the vibrations get all the right spots in all the right ways. That's honestly the best way I could describe it, because any other explanation was lost in the sensations coursing through me.

My hips began to rock against the machine as I felt an orgasm fast approaching. My hands left the edges of the machine only to grip onto myself. I pulled at my hair, grasped my breasts, squeezed my thighs. I touched everything and everywhere, needing the contact. Desperately wanting the contact.

The first orgasm was intense. I mean, I screamed and I thrashed against the drier. I rode it like it was a horse. I milked it for all it was worth. The orgasm was hard and insane. Like an explosion of pure ecstasy. Everything inside me vibrated almost as much as the machine. Everything felt incredible.

I had thought that would be it… but it wasn't... Negan's hands still held me there, keeping me in place.

Before I could recover from my first orgasm, another one hit me. This one wasn't as intense, but it was longer. I swear it was the longest orgasm I'd ever experienced. Ripples rang out through my whole body, like waves of bliss. My feet twitched ever so slightly. I groaned as my head fell forward, my hips grinding against the machine, my hands grasping at Negan's.

Still held in place, the machine still vibrating, I gasped as I was hit by three quick and short orgasms over a brief period of time. Each were still incredible, but were gone before I could really enjoy them.

Breathing heavily, I shook my head at Negan, pushing his hands away. "No more. I can't."

Looking at me with the smuggest and biggest grin I'd ever seen, Negan shifted my hips and slid me across the machine so my legs wrapped around him. As he lifted me I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his shoulder, completely spent. I was exhausted. Never had I ever experienced anything like what I'd just been through. I had a feeling it was going to take me days to recover.

I felt Negan set me on a firm surface again, only this one wasn't vibrating. I hummed my thanks as he pulled away slightly, too look at me.

"Fuck, me. You have no idea how hot you look right now." he leaned forward to press a kiss to my shoulder. "You still with me, doll?"

"Mm-hmm." was the only response I could form at that moment.

He chuckled in my ear. "Gonna need more than that. Need to know you're good for some more." He mumbled, nibbling on my neck now.

"More?" I almost groaned in protest. How could he possibly think I was up for more?

But when he pressed up against me and I felt how hard he was, I didn't care how tired I was or how sore I was probably going to be tomorrow. I needed to feel him inside me.

My hand grabbed at his leather jacket, pulling on it as I shifted closer, pressing myself against him as much as possible, grinding against him. He got the message. Not needing me to say anything, Negan reached his belts, and the button and zip of his pants. His jeans and underwear were off in record time. Then his hands moved to my underwear- which I still wore. He hooked his fingers around them before he tore them off me, causing me to gasp.

Grinning, he brought my underwear to his face, giving them a quick sniff. "Mm." he groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. "Keep these for later." his grin grew ever so slightly as he tucked my underwear into one of his leather jacket pockets.

I only had a moment to be shocked that he was keeping my underwear. Only a moment before his hands were grasping my hips and leading me to him once more. Only a moment before I felt him push himself inside me in one long, hard stroke.

He was a thick and long and hard as I remember. He hit every spot that made me want to scream, stroking them with every thrust. He moved slow, but hard, slamming back into me each time. Hitting my cervix over and over.

My head fell back as I moaned, hands gripping onto the counter for dear life. I could feel myself reaching my peak once again. I could feel everything building up, waiting for the last push…

Negan continued to thrust, I tried to keep up but found myself too exhausted to do much. Not that he seemed to mind.

"So good, sweetheart." he groaned. "Feel so good."

He shifted in a certain way then that had me fall back completely as I let out another long moan. My legs squeezed him, pulling him in more, urging him to keep doing exactly what he was doing right now. He was hitting something new now, and it was delicious.

"Keep going, Negan." I begged, one of my hands coming up to pull at my hair as the other grasped the hem of my shirt. "Right there. Faster. Please."

Doing as I asked, he picked up the pace. Still moving as hard he continued to thrust in that position, hitting the juicy spot that made me want to scream. Over and over, like a wave of anticipation growing inside me. The buildup was getting so intense I thought I was going to pass out.

When his fingers stroked at the bundle of nerves between my legs, I came undone.

Screaming, I arched my back. Everything inside me hummed and sung and vibrated and pulsed. Every nerve, every cell, every fiber of my being was alive and in complete and total heaven. My core clenched around Negan as I twitched against him, riding out my orgasm. I pulled at my shirt and let out a long moan. My head grew foggy as I found it hard to think of anything, all I could do was feel. All I could feel was Negan still inside me, and my body singing.

He continued to thrust before I felt him come as well, not too long after me. Staying inside me as he grew soft, Negan leaned forward, out of breath. The words that fell from his mouth making me freeze as my high washed away.

"Marry me."

Bamby

If you would like to be tagged please send an ask, and tell me what list you want to be added to, it’s just easier to organise this way :):)

Ash’s Tags:

@flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @negans-network

Forever Tags:

@ask-kakashihatake

#Ash’s Round 3 Negan Challenge #Negan #negan smut #negan fanfiction #Negan thirst squad #thewalkingdead #twd #walking dead #making fun a priority #so I got a queue...

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amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes · 7 years

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Red

Author’s Note: This is my first submission for #Ash’s Round 3 Negan Challenge. The prompt is Red Riding Hood and is sorta of continuation of my first story, Sing to Me, although my OC doesn’t sing in this one. I picked the short title as it has multi-meaning: it relates to the prompt and it’s kinda what my OC feels at the end.

Word Count: 3,102

Pairing: Negan x OC of Color (African American)

Warnings: Some language. Goofiness, some smooching, nothing heavy.

Tags: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @genevievedarcygranger, @negans-network

Trisha sat in Arat’s room and drummed her fingers on the table in front of her. Arat busied herself around a box sitting on the table that had been brought to her from the storage room by Simon. Her newest conquest was a teacher at the Sanctuary and the box was supposed to be full of things that can be used for the children. Arat had asked Trisha to help her go through the box but Trisha wasn’t stupid; she knew exactly what Arat wanted. “She wants intel.” Trisha thought before Arat could finish asking her to join her. It had been a week since Negan had asked Trisha to marry him and while she went back to work as a Savior like nothing had happened, Trisha didn’t tell her commanding officer or comrades what had been said. They all eyed her suspiciously when she returned and the questions were written all over their faces. Maybe they hoped she would voluntarily tell them what had happened but they were sorely mistaken. “They must have asked Arat to ask me.” Trisha assumed with a shake of her head.

“So, what did you guys talk about?” Arat asked, wasting no time to breach the subject. Trisha ignored the question and instead took the time to look inside the box. It was nearly full to the top with books, toys and God knows what else. Arat was about to repeat herself when a knock interrupted her. Thrown off guard, Arat opened the door with a scowl. Toni, a fellow member of their unit, decided she wanted to know what was in the box when she saw Simon hauling to Arat’s room. “Great they’re gonna double team me.” Trisha thought and was about to make her escape when she realized that Arat had dropped the subject as soon as Toni was in the room. Arat mumbled to herself as she and Toni began to look through the box and Trisha took a seat, grateful for the interruption.

“Oh wow, this shit is even better than I remembered!” Arat exclaimed as she dug through the box. Trisha was thankful that the attention wasn’t on her anymore and watched the women unload the box. A stack of children’s books were now leaning against the side of the box, dusty but still in good condition. The bottom of the box had been layered with clothes and items relating to the corresponding books in the box. There was a little stuffed lamb that looked like it was once white but now faded to a dull gray color possibly from dust. A large red and gray hat that had been turned into itself for perseverance. A pair of green overalls with a button missing. A gold and green plastic crown that remarkably was undamaged. The list grew.

“This shit is too cute!” Toni searched through the box with Arat with glee, trying on as many props as she could. Arat placed the large hat on her head and laughed loudly. Trisha sat back in her chair and observed the women. Toni had her long, black hair tied back with a blue ribbon yet it didn’t stop the locks from falling over her tanned shoulders. Her dark blue shirt and jeans fit her nicely, complimenting her thin frame. Arat donned a black shirt and matching black capri pants that fit loosely on her yet amplified her figure. Short strands of her black and blonde hair fell over her face and gave her a youthful appearance. Trisha smiled as the women looked like giant children going through the box. Taking her hair down from the ponytail she normally kept it in, Trisha ran her fingers through her semi-curled hair and let her hair fall onto her shoulders. She wore the same black ensemble as Arat but being curvier than her commanding officer, it showcased her figure a bit too well. If it had been more people in the room, Trisha would had been more reserved but since it was only these two, Trisha didn’t see the harm in staying dressed in what she had on.

“Shut the fuck up!” Toni squealed and both Arat and Trisha looked at the woman curiously. From the bottom of the box, Toni pulled out a long red robe and held it up proudly. The robe was in good condition like most things in the box and managed to maintain its brilliant color. The robe was hooded, the hood looking large and spacious. From where she was sitting, Trisha could see that it was also sleeveless, the holes wide and gaping. It was beautiful to say the least. Arat whistled in appreciation and ran her hand over the material. Trisha stood and admired the robe herself and she wondered when the last time she saw something so fashionable. She reached out to touch it also and reveled in its softness. Toni pulled it away from the women’s hands and threw it across her shoulders. The robe swallowed her short frame and made her look like she was wearing a moo-moo. Arat frowned and shook her head ‘no’ and Trisha mimicked her movement. Huffing disappointingly, Toni shrugged the robe off and threw it on the table before resuming rummaging through the box. Trisha eyed the discarded robe and carefully picked it up. Thinking it would be heavy, she was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t the case at all and the robe itself felt light. Draping it around her shoulders, Trisha snuggled into the collar of the robe before placing her arms through the sleeve openings. Looking down at herself, Trisha couldn’t really see how she looked but knew the robe fit her well. Reaching behind her head, Trisha flopped the hood over her head and was right in assuming that the hood part was large. It came down to the tip of nose, the fabric tickling her. Pushing it up to her forehead, Trisha adjusted the hood on the top of her head so that it wouldn’t fall down her face again. The red of the robe accentuated the warm orange-red undertone of her dark brown skin and made her appear saintly.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Arat whispered in awe, turning to see Trisha in the robe. Toni had just put on the crown and turned to give Arat an inquiring look before turning to look at Trisha. Toni let out a small sound of surprise before crossing her arms and nodding. Both women were staring at Trisha in awe and not liking being the center of attention, she lowered her eyes bashfully. Toni stepped forward and moved around the woman to examine her. Standing behind her, Toni hummed in approval.

“It looks amazing on you Trish! But.” she moved closer “It does nothing to hide this ass!” she laughed as she smacked Trisha on the backside causing the woman to yelp in surprise and Arat to laugh aloud. Trisha rubbed her backside and flipped Toni off which only made her laugh harder. Trisha joined them in their laughter, placing her hands on her hips. The women were so distracted in their laughing that they didn’t notice Dwight entering the room. Toni was the first to notice him and greeted him with open arms. Dwight stared at her strangely, his eyes flickering to the shining gold crown on her head before turning to Trisha still in the robe.

“I’ve been knocking on your door for damn near five minutes, Arat. You girls playing dress up or something?” he asked tilting his chin at Arat, looking at the hat.

“Maybe. Wanna play with us?” Toni moved to pet the man on the head before placing the little lamb on top of his head. Dwight scoffed and side-eyed her, the lamb on his head looking absolutely ridiculous. Arat burst into a fit of giggles and quickly covered her mouth. Dwight exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes. If he didn’t like the toy on his head, he didn’t act like it as he allowed it remain. He crossed his arms gingerly as if trying to limit his movements so that the toy wouldn’t fall. Trisha smiled as she watched him, the lamb making him look childlike.

“I actually came in here for a reason but dammit, I can’t remember.” Dwight spoke aloud but to no one in particular. He closed his eyes in concentration but opened them after a few seconds and shrugged. “Nope, can’t remember.” he admitted. Toni shook her head at the man, playfully admonishing him.

“Well my little lamb, let’s try to retrace your steps. Where was the last place you saw Mary?” Toni asked as seriously as she could. Arat and Trisha exchanged glances before breaking into a new round of laughter. Dwight looked at Toni with exasperation and pursed his lips. Before Toni could comment any more, a loud bang at the door caused everyone to immediately quite.

“I send you to find Arat and you’re in here-” Negan boomed having slammed his fist against the metal door. His eyes were wide with anger but once he saw the top of Dwight’s head, he frowned in confusion. “What the fuck is that on your head?” Negan questioned before looking around the room. His gaze swept quickly over the room; the stack of books, the box with items poking out of it, the crown on Toni’s head, the hat on Arat and lastly Trisha in the robe. His gaze lingered on Trisha, drinking in the sight. Trisha had the mind to pull the hood back down over her face but elected to avert her gaze toward the box. The women fidgeted nervously as they waited for one of them to be brave enough to answer Negan. Sighing, Trisha decided that it should be her since he was still looking at her.

“We were trying on costumes for the books we’re going to read to the children.” Trisha lied, glancing over at Arat. If Negan knew that they were trying on stuff just for the hell of it and Arat just wanted to impress the teacher, he’d blow a gasket. Arat nodded before turning to Toni who just stood still in silent fear. Negan ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he regarded Trisha’s words. Seeming to be satisfied, Negan turned to Arat.

“Fucking should have known. The teacher chick is looking for you. I sent D to find you but I guess he fucking-“ he motioned to the lamb still perched on his head. “Got caught up in what-the-fuck-ever you girls are doing.” Negan finished. He turned his attention to the stack of books and began calling out their names. After about four books, he studied the fifth and laughed. Turning to Arat, he held the book up so she could see its title. “Cat in the Hat. Must be you.” Arat nodded again and Trisha swore she’d give herself whiplash. Negan turned to Trisha now and let his eyes scan down her body. Clicking his teeth in appreciation, he reached into the stack and held a book up to her.

“Little Red Riding Hood, huh?” he questioned before a smirk formed on his face. Trisha nodded, though not as hard as Arat, and added.

“I’m off to grandma’s house. Need to watch out for the big, bad wolf.” Trisha shrugged nonchalantly. Negan scoffed as he continued to smirk at her.

“Well today’s your lucky day, Red. I’m off to see grandma my-fucking-self. Care to join me?” He asked as his eyes shone with intent. Trisha figured this was coming since they hadn’t had the chance to talk all week, let alone see each other. This wasn’t necessarily the way she wanted them to meet back up but she rolled with it. Stepping forward past a still frozen Toni, Trisha held her hand out to him. “Only if you promise to take me straight to grandma. These woods are very dangerous.” Negan snorted as he took her hand and pulled her behind him. Stopping at the door, he turned to Dwight and looked at the lamb. “Take Arat to the teacher, lamb chop.”

Laughter rose from the room as Negan escorted Trisha into the hallway. Trisha assumed that from the direction that they were heading in, they were going to his room. Trisha lowered the hood on the robe to avoid the gazes of the workers and allowed the hood to graze the tip of her nose. She welcomed the coverage the hood gave her because it hid her from the world. Her mind raced as she realized that she really hadn’t given the Negan’s proposal much thought if any. She pondered on the thought back and forth before the sound of Negan talking to her interrupting her thoughts.

“I’m starting to think that you don’t like me very well, Trisha.” Negan grumbled as he stopped in front of a door and released her hand. Trisha looked up at him confused as she really wasn’t paying attention. She scanned her surroundings, a developed habit, and realized that they weren’t near Negan’s bedroom. The door was a different color, a faded tan, and it took her a second to realize it was his office. Trisha looked back at Negan suspiciously before pulling the hood back on her head so she could look up at him.

“What? Why would you think that?” she asked tilting her head, the hood falling back to her nose. Scoffing, Negan opened the door and stood aside to allow Trisha to enter first. Walking into the room, Trisha lifted the hood off completely as Negan moved to sit on the desk. The room was simple, a large metal desk with one chair on each side, it wasn’t the setup that she was expecting. Negan studied her face as a frown formed as she studied the room.

“Why would you think that I don't like you?” she repeated her question but received no response. Turning to face him now, she placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to stare at him. Still he gave no reply as he watched her, his hazel eyes boring into her. The silence grew between them and Trisha shifted from one foot to the other. Exhaling, she moved closer to him and stared with faux fascination into his eyes.

“My, what large eyes you have.” she whispered, moving even closer to him. Negan frowned and withdrew into himself as Trisha placed her hands on either side of his face.

“Trish, what the fuck-"

“And my,” she continued cutting him off while now standing between his legs. “What a large nose you have.” she finished as she pinched his nose. Negan recoiled from her touch and pushed himself off the desk. He moved to distance himself from Trisha but she was right on him.

“And my, what large,”

“Dammit Trisha you're creeping me the fuck out! Stop it!” Negan yelled a bit too loud and grabbed Trisha by her shoulders. A smile formed on Trisha’s lips and she looked up at Negan who was uncharacteristically flustered. Deciding not to push him any further, she spoke calm and even.

“See? I can ask weird too. Now, answer my question. Why wouldn't I like you?”

“Because I still don't have an answer from you.” Negan answered, his grip on Trisha shoulders loosening and he began to knead her arms in a silent apology. Trisha rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“So because I don't fall at your feet like a damsel in distress, you think I don’t like you?” Trisha scoffed. “This dame can save herself. Hell, I could probably save your ass too.” Trisha boldly asserted with a flick of her hair. Negan stared at her in disbelief before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I fucking should bend you over this desk for that.” he threatened and narrowed his eyes. Trisha’s courage faltered for second before she regained her composure.

“Maybe you should.” she replied with a shrug of her shoulder. Negan’s eyebrows shot up and he made a sound of disbelief.

“You’ve gotten bold all of a sudden, Red and I must say,” he said closing the distance between them by snaking an arm around her waist. “I fucking like.” Trisha opened her mouth to respond but only a small squeak would form. Negan chuckled to himself before wrapping his other arm around her and leaning down to press his lips to hers. Trisha froze in place, unable to mentally process what was happening fast enough. Part of her wanted to push him away but another part wanted this physical touch. Leaning into the kiss, Trisha wrapped her arms around his neck. Negan took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and allow his hands to roam before they were interrupted by a loud knock. Startled, Trisha broke the kiss and tried to jump away from his grasp but Negan had her latched to him. Both turned towards the door to see who was responsible for disturbing them and they were met with a woman in a black dress with vivid red hair that she had draped over one shoulder. She was tapping one high heeled foot and looked at the pair with disgust. Negan groaned and Trisha recognized her as one of the wives but didn’t bother to remember her name.

“What is it Frankie?” Negan asked with a sigh. Trisha suddenly felt oddly irritated as the woman eyed her up and down before walking into office.

“Now I see why you haven’t been our quarters today. You found a new one.” Frankie finished the last sentence while turning her nose up at Trisha. Trisha sucked her teeth and went to step forward when Negan tightened his grip on her. Shaking her head, Trisha had a devilish, impulsive thought. Scoffing, she turned to face Negan and placed one hand on the back of his neck to pull him down to her and kissed him. Negan smirked into the kiss as Frankie rolled her eyes and began tapping her foot again. Breaking the kiss, Trisha started to the door with Negan looking after her with an amused look on his face. When she reached the door, Trisha turned to face Negan who was now being closed in on by Frankie.

“Oh Negan,” Trisha called out to him. “My answer is yes. I’ll marry you. See you later, new husband. I can make it to grandma’s from here.” She finished, flipping the hood over her head and leaving Negan with a wolfish grin and Frankie looking disappointed that now she had yet another wife to compete with.

#ash's round 3 negan challenge #negan #negan thirst squad #nts #negan fanfics #The Walking Dead #twd #nts fics

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