#dom!negan

[celest1all]

#MEAN!NEGAN

#WARNINGS: gagging, degradation, breeding, mdni.

brb just thinking about mean!bf!negan fucking his little girl silly because some random guy at alexandria looked at her 'funny'.

mean!negan who yanks you away mid conversation and flips up the skirt you had on and pulls down your panties "fuckin' hell doll, no wonder that prick looked at ya like that," he smirks at your perfect looking ass, slapping it hard enough to form a print "this skirt does fuckin nothin', barely covers my pretty lil' pussy."

mean!negan who shoves his dick inside you without any preparation and calling you a whore for letting him fuck you so quickly

mean!negan who shoves three of his think fingers inside your mouth when you make too much noise, causing you to gag on them instead.

mean!negan who chuckles darkly at your mindless, fucked out babbles and the fact your creaming on his dick even though he's only been inside you for five minutes

mean!negan who fucks you sensless until he comes so deep inside you, you are hundred percent sure that it went right into your cervix

mean!negan who eats you out until you pass out after using your body for his own gain

mean!negan who cuddles you to sleep after your rentless pounding.

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Go Easy | Sam Winchester Oneshot

Summary: Sam’s hiding a part of himself from his new, inexperienced girlfriend, but maybe he doesn’t have to. 

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Tags: teasing, flirting, mentions of virginity, mentions of liking younger women, angst, mentions of BDSM, Dom/sub vibes, mild BDSM, bondage, fingering, p in v

WC: ± 2.8K A/Ns: This was commissioned by someone who would like to remain anonymous! Hope you like it!

Sam Winchester Masterlist

“So, how did you two meet again?” 

There’s a sparkle in Dean’s green eyes that Sam knows only too well means that Dean hasn’t forgotten at all, and he’s only asking the question for one reason; to tease the living fuck out of him. 

“Urm, at the college library,” Y/N replies softly, clearing her throat and offering his brother a polite smile as she reaches for her glass of wine. 

“Of course you did,” Dean chuckles, “so you’re one of these brainy young professors too?” 

“Urr…” Y/N glances nervously at him, and Sam knows it’s his turn to step in and save her. 

“No, actually, Y/N is a student,” Sam needlessly reminds his brother, unashamedly. 

The smirk instantly curls over Dean’s lips as he chuckles, shaking his head. “A student, Sammy? You’ve been working there for two months and you’re already sleeping with the students, why am I not surprised?” 

Sam’s brow instantly pulls into a frown as he shakes his head. “No, it’s not like that, De,” he protests, looking over to see Y/N is also confused by Dean’s comment. 

“What does he mean?” she asks, blinking at him. 

“Nothing,” Sam insists. “He’s just being an ass.” 

Dean continues to chuckle, reaching for his beer and taking a long swig before swallowing hard and licking his lips. “Listen, we can just address the elephant in the room, okay?” he grins, looking between them. 

“Dean, no,” Sam warns, hoping his brother will realise he is barking up the wrong tree completely right now and will back off. 

“Oh c’mon, Sammy, we shared a bedroom wall long enough for me to know what you’re into. You’re hardly shy about it. And we’re all adults here… at least…” his eyes land back on Y/N, and Sam’s jaw clenches. 

“Jesus, Dean, she’s more than legal,” Sam grunts, wishing his legs were just a few inches longer so he could kick his brother under the table. 

“Relax, I’m teasing you both,” Dean laughs easily, lounging back in his chair with his beer in hand. 

Sam glares over at his older brother for a moment, before looking across at Y/N to make sure she’s okay. She seems a little flustered, but before he can reach out to take her hand in hopes of relaxing her a little, she rises to her feet and softly excuses herself. Sam watches her leave, heading towards the bathroom, and then turns his attentions back to his brother. 

“Seriously, dude?” he huffs. “Now she probably thinks I’m some pervert.” 

“Well, from what I’ve heard–” 

“Dean, I’m serious,” Sam interrupts. 

“Oh, c’mon Sammy, you’re not exactly quiet about your… tastes,” Dean argues, smirking slightly. “I’m just saying that she’s exactly the kind of girl I thought you’d date.” 

“It’s not like that, De,” Sam protests, “not with her.” 

Dean cocks an eyebrow as if he doesn’t believe him. “So you’re telling me you’re not dating a younger woman who’s all quiet and reserved because she’s exactly the kind of girl who obeys your every command?” he mocks. 

“She’s not like that,” Sam continues to argue, and he thinks maybe Dean is finally believing him, because a small frown pulls on his brow.

“Wait… really? This isn’t one of your… kinky things?” 

“No, Dean,” Sam scoffs, still amused by Dean’s naivety even after all this time. Sam’s tried on more than one occasion to educate his brother on the lifestyle, but Dean couldn’t be further from Sam when it comes to things like this. “We’re actually dating, she’s actually my girlfriend,” he explains. “My very inexperienced girlfriend you���ve probably completely freaked out, so thanks for that.” 

“Inexperienced?” Dean blinks, but then another cheeky smile lights up his face. “Sammy, you dirty dog!” 

“Dean–” 

“Well, in my defense, dude, you don’t date much.” 

“You didn’t think it was weird I’d asked you to meet her?” Sam questions. 

“I don’t know what happens between you and these girls,” Dean protests, shrugging. He’s quiet for a moment, but then he seems to get a little more serious, playing with his beer bottle. “So, is she open to what you like, or…”

Sam can tell that it’s a genuine question, so he doesn’t roll his eyes or complain, instead he takes a deep breath and decides to answer honestly. “I doubt it, we’ve never talked about it.” 

“So you’d pack it all in for her?” he asks next. “Do you like her enough to do that?”

“Yeah, I think I would,” Sam nods honestly. 

“Well then, I’m sorry dude, didn’t mean to freak her out.” 

Sam looks towards the door leading down the hallway towards the bathroom and takes a deep breath. “I’m sure she’s fine,” he tells his brother, realising he’s only trying to convince himself more than Dean. 

Y/N has been even more quiet than usual as they clean up after dinner. With Dean now gone, Sam was hoping she’d be a little more confident, like he’d noticed her becoming in the recent weeks, but she doesn’t say much as she clears away plates and carries them out into the kitchen, placing them alongside the sink. He watches her begin to run the hot tap, filling the sink up with warm, soapy water, and leans in the doorway just observing for a moment or two, wondering how he’s going to approach this. 

“Hey, let me do that, it’s my place,” he protests, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her middle. 

“It’s fine,” she insists softly. Sam places a soft kiss to the back of her head, and he watches as her movements slow and she clears her throat. “Sam, what did your brother mean when he said he’s not surprised that I’m a student?” 

“Nothing,” Sam half lies. “He was just being an older brother and trying to embarrass me.” 

“So you’ve not been with other students?” she checks, turning herself around and stepping out of his embrace to face him. 

“No, not since I was a student myself,” he tells her honestly this time. 

“Students your own age?” she asks next, almost challengingly. 

“Pretty much,” he nods. “Y/N, I’m not into young girls or anything,” he laughs awkwardly. “There’s not even ten years between us, it’s not about that for me. Look… can we just forget the whole dinner, please?” he pleads, already exasperated. 

She’s been spooked enough for one night, she doesn’t need to hear all about Sam’s twisted, kinky fetishes too. He’s kept those a secret for a reason. He didn’t know it when he first started dating her, but Y/N had been a virgin before they met, and he could still count on one hand how many times they’ve had sex. If he was ever going to show her that side of him, it wouldn’t be now. 

“So you’re not into young virgin girls?” she asks bluntly, blinking at him. 

“No, absolutely not,” Sam protests immediately, the very implication making his skin crawl. “Firstly, I didn’t even know you were a virgin when we met. Secondly, you’re twenty two, you’re not even a teenager anymore–” 

“Okay,” Y/N interrupts. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to accuse you of being a perv or anything, I just… when Dean said he knows what you’re into…” 

“He didn’t mean that,” Sam tries to explain. 

“Then what did he mean?” she presses, blinking at him again. 

Sam sighs heavily, not sure he can answer that honestly if he wants to keep her in the dark about his fantasies and desires. 

“Is it bad? Is that why you won’t tell me?” she implores. 

“No, it’s not bad,” he argues weakly, shaking his head. “I just don’t wanna freak you out, I know you’re new to all this.” 

“Maybe physically, but one of the perks to being late in the game means I’ve done a lot of research,” Y/N admits coyly. “So I’m not as naive as you think.” Sam’s eyebrows rise at her implication. “Just tell me, Sam, please?” she begs softly, a lot more seriously than before. 

Sam huffs a breath and licks his lips for a second, gathering his thoughts. 

“Usually, I like a certain… dynamic in the bedroom,” he tries to explain briefly. “But, I would never expect that from you, so I’ve never brought it up. I’m fine with the way things are between us,” he rushes to add for reassurance. 

“What kind of dynamic?” Y/N asks, seeming to ignore the second half of his comment. 

“Urm… me in charge… in control… y’know, pain for pleasure kind of thing,” he admits, feeling his cheeks heating up at his admission. Normally he’s a lot more sure of  himself, oozing confidence as he explains exactly how he expects it to go down between him and the girl he’s about to fuck. But Y/N is different, and he doesn’t want her running for the hills because of this. 

“So BDSM stuff?” she clarifies, biting her bottom lip. 

“Yeah, that stuff,” he nods. “So are you freaked out?” he asks, unable to stop himself. 

Y/N doesn’t answer at first, she just stares at him and swallows hard, and Sam’s pretty sure she’s about to break up with him, leave and never come back. But what actually happens takes him off guard, as his eyes follow her as she drops to her knees at his feet and settles into a kneeling position, looking up at him through her lashes. 

“What… What are you doing?” he stammers out, afraid that maybe she feels like she has to do this for him. 

“Something like this?” she checks. 

“You don’t have to–” 

“You don’t think I don’t know exactly what you want… Sir?” she asks softly, a tiny smirk beginning to spread over her lips. 

Instantly Sam’s cock begins to harden behind his jeans. It’s been a while since he’s seen a girl on her knees at his feet, and while he hears people call him Sir a lot thanks to his job, it feels so different hearing it come from her lips in that tone. 

“A-are you sure?” Sam checks sincerely for a moment. 

She doesn’t reply to begin with, she just reaches out, softly running her hand up his leg, over his thigh and towards the now obvious bulge in his pants. 

“Like I said, I’ve done my research, I know what I like the look of,” she explains, her hand now cupping his cock through the denim, making Sam’s head a little foggier. “I wanna know if it’s as good as it looks, I want you to teach me,” she purrs, blinking at him seductively. “Just go easy on me?” 

Sam reaches forward, cupping the side of her face. “I’ve got you, baby girl,” he confirms, feeling her lean into his touch. “I’ll guide you through it.” 

Your POV

Holy fuck. 

Sam’s teeth drag down your throat, his large hands finally releasing your wrists above your head, smoothing down your arms. 

“Leave them there,” he growls against your skin, his hands now finding your breasts, fondling them for a moment or two before reaching around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You moan, arching your back into him, your hands finding his long hair so you can card your fingers through it. “I said, leave them there,” Sam growls, instantly pinning your hands above your head once more. “Don’t make me tie them up.” 

Just the very thought of him tying you to the bed, making you completely at his mercy makes your insides flutter with even more arousal that pools between your bare legs. 

“Please do,” you find yourself gasping, your brain foggy with arousal and desperation. 

“You’d like that, hm?” he smirks, leaning back to look at you. “You’d like me tying you up, using you however I want?” You instantly nod, desperate for just that. “Use your words, baby girl… always use your words with me,” he commands. 

“Y-yes I want that,” you confirm verbally. 

“Sir,” he adds for you. 

“Sir,” you also add, breathlessly. You’d always liked the idea of calling a guy Sir in the bedroom, but you never thought it would be this much of a turn on.

You watch him climb off of you, now standing at the foot of his bed as he reaches down for his jeans on the floor, and without taking his eyes off of you, he grabs the belt still in the loops and pulls it free. The sight is near enough orgasmic as you once again arch your back and moan, desperate for some attention between your legs. 

Sam uses the tail of his belt to trail up your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake as you squirm underneath him. 

“Maybe one day we can use this for something a little more entertaining,” he ponders, a wicked smirk curling over his lips. “But for now, we can make good use of it in other ways.” 

You feel him wrap the leather around both your wrists, and with only a few tugs, you find yourself bound to the headboard, unable to move your hands very far; unable to touch him anymore. And suddenly, you want nothing more. His cock is hard and practically dripping with precum on your thigh, and you want to wrap your hand around it, to give him some relief. But he seems unfazed by the lack of attention it’s receiving, instead focused on your body, and the way it’s writhing underneath him. 

His hazel eyes scan over what feels like every single inch, and he hums in appreciation, his hands beginning to ghost over your skin. When his touch begins to trail lower than your belly button, you find your legs widening as if to encourage him between them. He seems to oblige without any further teasing, which you’re grateful for, because you’re not sure how much longer you can take this. Your head feels like it’s going to explode. Being at someone’s mercy is so much better than it had been in your head all those times you’d gotten yourself off to the fantasy, or touched yourself to those videos you used to be so ashamed about liking. 

“Someone’s wet,” he notes, a smug grin on his lips at the fact. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” 

You nod desperately, bucking your hips against his fingers, feeling him rub your clit as you begin to moan. 

“Yes, Sir,” you rush to confirm, just about mustering enough sanity to remember to use your words like he’d commanded. 

“If you like this, wait until I train you to be the perfect little slut for me,” he growls, and you gasp for air as his fingers push inside you with his words, your head spinning with the mixture of the sensation and the very thought of his words. “This body is perfect, and it’s all mine, isn’t it?” he asks, his eyes landing on yours. 

“All yours, Sir,” you confirm, breathlessly. “Please… please fuck me,” you find yourself begging, unable to take much more. You just want to feel him inside you; it’s a feeling you’ve grown to love, and you only wish you’d have met him sooner. 

“That’s not how you beg,” Sam growls, curling his fingers and making you cry out in pleasure. “Ask nicely, or I won’t fuck you at all.” 

“Please, Sir. Please will you fuck me? I need you to fuck me, please.” 

“That’s better,” Sam hums, removing his fingers and stroking his cock, slicking it with your juices from his fingers. “Such a good girl, I can tell you’re going to do so well,” he praises. 

He leans over you, teasing the tip of his cock through your arousal, softly pressing against your opening as he chuckles at your desperation. You buck your hips in hopes that he’ll slide deeper, but he holds back, smirking almost evilly down at you, clearly relishing in just what he’s driven you to. 

“Please, Sir,” you beg one last time, barely audible through your gasps for breath. 

Sam leans down, bringing his mouth close to your ear, his cock still only just inside you. “I love the way that sounds on your lips,” he breathes out, his cock throbbing as if to prove his point. “I can’t wait to show you exactly how I like it.” And just the thought of this getting even better, has you on the edge.

[moonysbxtch0]

Apodyopsis

Part 1 : Concupiscent *Lustful/sensual*

Summary : "Write." Professor Negan carefully placed a sheet of white paper in front of you,he was towering behind you,his presence making you shiver.He bend forward slightly and brought his lips close to your ear,his tone dropped a few octaves lower than usually."Your sexual fantasies. All of them."

Characters: Negan x reader (second pov)

Warnings : 18+ , Age gap (reader is college age while Negan is on his early 40s) ,smut (fem receiving oral, fingering,penetration,possibility of getting caught, edging, teasing, dom Negan, dirty talking, Negan’s foul mouth obviously ,professor kink, slight daddy kink ,cheating (Negan is married), jealousy.

Ao3 link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/47658601/chapters/120127168

Notes : This fic is supposed to be about five chapters so all the warnings will be revealed fully in the upcoming chapters. Wanted to drag it a bit because I can’t write smut without plot.

"Write." Professor Negan carefully placed a sheet of white paper in front of you,he was towering behind you,his presence making you shiver.He bend forward slightly and brought his lips close to your ear,his tone dropped a few octaves lower than usually."Your sexual fantasies. All of them."

You were speechless. At first you didn't quite understand what he had said because you had been focused only on his suffocating smell,his cologne smelled so good. The second you had entered inside his office you had noticed it and your head had gotten dizzy. Trying to snap out of your thoughts ,you moved your eyes around and then they landed on his arm which had caged you. He was ripped for that much you were sure.Wait. Had you heard that right?"Ehm sir?" You titled your head in his direction,his expression didn't show any indication that he was joking.How the fuck was he so calm? He was acting as if he told you to write the grocery list and not your sexual fantasies.

"Do as you're told to." The professor wasn't smiling,his tone was cut and firm." It's either that, either I tell Gregory that I caught you and your friends smoking your stash on school grounds. Your choice."

His tone as he spoke... something inside of you snapped. Sure ,you had back talked to the professor many times,had had your fair share of fights with him but whenever he gave you detention he usually just joked around,made you clean his bat , write lines or simply let you go with a warning. Today clearly wasn't one of those cases.

Today he had rescued your ass from professor Carol,she was supposed to give you detention for causing trouble in her class and professor Negan had asked her for you to go with him because he had something to discuss about the upcoming basketball tournament. You had been confused because what was there to discuss and in private for more? You had quietly followed him to his office,had taken your seat and you didn't know what you were expecting but it clearly wasn't this.

You took one last look at his face, waiting for him to say that he was joking or that you had misheard him but the look he gave you told you enough,he wasn't playing. Your palms were starting to sweat,you dropped your eyes to the paper in front of you and bit your lip nervously. Were you seriously going to out your kinks to your professor? You gulped,your throat felt dry..."Is this a joke?"You had to at least ask. You didn't move your eyes from your paper as you spoke.

"Does it seem like I'm joking? Write."He ordered. You grabbed hold of the pen he had given to you and wrote whatever you saw fit and appropriate. Anything that involves...Praise kink, degradation kink, being dominated. You just hoped that he was satisfied with this much,you didn't want to humiliate yourself more than you already felt.He took a step closer, grabbed hold of the paper,it rustled when he picked it up then in a matter of seconds he put it back down."We both know there's more to that list."A hint of chuckle could be heard on his voice then in a matter of seconds his voice changed again,it became authoritative." Don't make me repeat myself.Write."

You cussed under your breath and decided to play it safe as you scribbled a few more on the paper, breathplay, bondage...you for sure were not going to let him know about your heavy professor kink. You were pretty sure that he would use that in his own advantage at some point and you couldn't handle being teased by him in front of your whole class because this man had no shame. You had witnessed it with your own eyes and ears what he could do when he knew something he was not supposed to.

"Okay then,if that's all." You let out a sigh of relief. He took the paper and your eyes followed his movement. He opened one of the drawers and put it there. He gently put a hand on your shoulder and leaned forward to whisper on your ear one more time."Now strip."

Was he out of his damn mind?" What has gotten through him today?You locked eyes with him ,his eyes were drowning you in,it felt as if they were hypnotising you " That's quite... unprofessional?" Hell you'd do it ,in a heartbeat but you were thinking hard ...was this a game of his...what was he thinking?

Negan scoffed, his grip on your shoulder tightening. "There's no place for questions.You're here to do what you're told to. I know very well what's inside that pretty little head of yours." He removed his hand from your shoulder and then pointed at your temple twice with his index finger, barely touching your skin.

"I-" why were you even debating this topic in the first place?You've always had the hots for him,you had always tried to get his attention whenever you came across him, you had even gone as far as memorised his whole schedule so you would come across him on the halls. You were obsessed with him and if he wanted you,you wanted him more , simple as that. He created a bit of space between the two of you after flipping the chair you had sat on so you could face him. Your eyes were following his movements,he rested his hip against the desk and you were in front of him, still unsure of what to do.

"I don't have all day." You nodded meekly and one by one started discarding your clothes slowly, keeping your eyes on him. He smirked devilishly as he ran his tongue over his lips."Just like that, look at me while you get undressed for me."

All of your clothes were on the floor,you were naked and the eyes that raked your body made you start feeling hot and bothered in a good way.You just gave him a show but if he thought that that was all he was mistaken.You wet a finger with your mouth,a trail of spit following as you moved it down your collarbone, chest, abdomen and soon enough to your crotch. You found your clit and started stroking it , imagining that it was his hand that was doing that instead of yours. His eyes were glued on you ,more like your hand." Are you just going to watch,sir?"

"Yes, I'm just going to watch you play with yourself. If you need something from me then you have to be a good girl and beg for it." His smirk never left his face as he spoke. When you lowered your eyes to his crotch you noticed the bulge that had already formed there,it was noticeable through his black pants. Hell ,it looked like it would explode any minute.

"Lend me a helping hand, please?"You tried your best to give him the eyes,your voice was lower and it had the desired effect. He summoned you with his index and middle finger, flashing you a toothy grin and you stopped your movement as you walked closer to him.

"Sit your ass on my desk." He ordered as he pointed at the desk in question with his head.You didn't question him so you sat,the cold wood sent a chill down your spine."Continue what you were doing." He stood in front of you and you raised your eyebrows.Soon,you brought your hand to clit yet again,your hole was throbbing in need so you decided to give it some attention. You carefully slid a finger in, moving it back and forth to test how wet you were and when you saw it fit you slid another one.

You had been doing that for a while, finger yourself and he hadn't as much touched you.He looked like a predator, observing his prey and finding the right moment to attack.Little did he know you were impatient,you wanted him to do something about the arousal he caused so with that thought in mind you raised your leg on the air and gently touched his crotch, moving your feet back and fourth. It was enough to get a reaction from him,he groaned in pleasure and you couldn't help the smirk that formed on your face.

"Lighten up,it was just a small touch."He raised his eyebrows at first,his reaction told you that he wasn't pleased with your sudden attitude. He tutted as he walked closer to you, spreading your thighs further with his hands , settling himself between your legs and then slowly wrapped a hand around your neck.

"Shut your damn mouth up and fuck your pussy with your fingers." He gritted his teeth, tightening the grip on your neck. The way he kept tightening and untightening his grip on your neck was starting to make you feel dizzy. It felt as if that simple action made your body slave to him,as if it reacted to nothing else but orders from him. You started fingering yourself again, putting a show for him like a fucking escort but damn if that didn't turn you on. Eventually your voice started raising,you knew your body too well so it was easy to find all the weak spots that turned you into a moaning mess.Your eyes were on him during the whole act and you didn't know if his cocky expression made you feel more aroused or made you feel like beating some sense into him.

"Mhm, just like that. Be a dirty little slut and moan for me." Negan hummed as he moved his hands to your thighs and started tracing the skin there with the back of his knuckles , starting from somewhere above the knee and eventually going upper and upper.

"Please -" you whined,your whole body was requesting for more , your fingers weren't enough. You wanted him to touch you. No.You needed him to touch you as soon as possible." Do something." You whined, quite pathetically. To that he only answered with a deep long chuckle .

"Not until you make yourself cum." He roughly grabbed your thighs as he closed the distance between your faces ,nose brushing yours." Can you do that?" You nodded in refusal and he smirked."Oh ,you poor thing. Let me help you then." He lowered himself, resting his weight on the balls of his feet,his shoes creasing on the process. He slapped your hand and you removed it. Your fingers were covered in your juices and when he noticed, he looked up at you and spoke."Better lick them clean."

And you did what he said,you brought them close to your mouth and made sure to clean all of the remaining juices that were left there. He nodded when you showed him and turned his attention to your pussy, using his index and middle finger to open your lips. His touch felt foreign,sure you were no virgin but something about him doing this made you feel weird, excited.

" Little clitty’s gotten all swollen for me.”Fuck. He was filthy and you loved every second of it. He licked his lips as he kept his eyes on you and he licked a stripe, just to taste and then hummed,the vibration went straight to your core. He roughly put his arms under your knees and brought you closer to himself,your legs were crossed behind his neck and your hands were playing with his hair."Fuck-" you moaned as he bit your clit playfully and then continued his work, eating you out like a starved man. You had closed your eyes, enjoying the pleasure he was giving you, savoring every moment. When you weren't expecting it ,he slid a finger inside your cunt and when he saw that you were wet enough to take more he slid yet another finger as he focused on your clit. You felt him smile as you gasped in shock and pleasure. He stopped his movement for a second, fingers still in as he spoke.

"Be quiet." He ordered."If you want me to make you cum you should keep your mouth shut."He imitated an imaginary zip with his hand in front of his mouth, then a cocky smirk followed right after. The gesture made your walls clench around his fingers and judging by the way he smirked from ear to ear ,made you realise that he noticed it and liked it. He curled his fingers inside of you , hitting that one spot that was always the trigger to your orgasms. You brought a hand to your mouth, clasping it shut but it was barely doing anything to muffle your moans as he kept moving his fingers. He used his thumb to multitask,he rubbed your clit with it all the while he fucked you with his fingers.

You were close , just a few more moments and you would finally reach your orgasm. But when had luck ever been on your side anyway ? A knock was heard and Negan stopped his movement,both of you moving your attention to the door." Who is it?"Negan's voice was filled with irritation and had a hint of accusation on it.

"It's me." You could recognise that voice anywhere,it was none other than professor Rick Grimes. You moved your eyes to Negan and he rolled his eyes .

"Hold on a fuckin' second Prick." He raised his voice. He moved his attention to you again, sliding his fingers from your cunt. He wiped the juices on your thigh, sighed then his expression changed,he seemed more serious." Get under the fucking desk."You slid from the desk, frankly grabbed hold of your clothes and then you took your place under Negan's desk. The latter pulled his chair close to you and sat there,his crotch was facing you and now that you took a better look at it ,you couldn't help but wonder how he would taste in your mouth, would you be able to fit all of him?" Try anything funny and I swear to god that I'm going to make you pay for it." He warned as he gave you one last glance. He fixed his hair, cleared his throat and spoke." Enter."

You heard the sound of the door creaking open and soon enough footsteps coming closer to the desk."Fuck you want Prick?"Negan asked impatiently and judging by the way his cock throbbed you couldn't blame him.

"Well I was looking for a student and Carol told me that she's supposed to be with you."Professor Rick completely ignored the childish nickname as he spoke. Negan's cock was seducing you,the way it kept throbbing in need made you completely forget about his threat,you wanted to touch it.

"Which student?" Negan furrowed his eyebrows then he suddenly jolted but tried to cover it with a cough. You had slid your hand up his thigh, trying to tease him.

"Y/N L/N." Spoke professor Grimes."Are you okay Negan?"

"Better than ever." Negan moved his eyes to you for the shortest second and his jaw clenched as you started palming his erection.

"Make me pay for it." You mouthed to him and it took everything in his willpower to move his eyes back to his colleague.

"What do you need her for?" Negan tried to keep his cool at your restless teasing.

"I don't owe you any explanation."Spoke the other professor calmly. "Do you know where she is?"

"No." Negan's voice was strained."She left my office like ten minutes ago."

"If she stops by again,let her know that I'm looking for her." Said the professor and he took his leave. The second the door closed ,Negan moved his eyes to you,no expression on his face. He grabbed your jaw with his hand and leaned forward." What did I tell you?" He asked." I was going to play around with you but I've decided that you don't fucking deserve it." He gripped your jaw harder to the point it was starting to hurt. It's not like you thought too much about the consequences when you started to tease him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You furrowed your eyebrows as you started at him.

"Oh? The audacity to even ask. I'm just going to leave you like that, soaking wet and yearning for me. How does that sound, hm?"Negan smirked as he looked down on you,an air of superiority having enveloped his whole being.

"You wouldn't." You lips formed into a line as your eyebrows stayed furrowed. Your arousal had slipped down your legs and you swore that if he was serious about this you would never talk to him.

"Are you sure about that?" Negan raised his eyebrows. "You know very well I'm the type to do such a thing. You wanna try me?" He teased, knowing that you were dying to get fucked by him. The thing is that you knew him enough to know that he wasn't joking around. Well ,if he wanted to play that card, you wouldn't mind returning the favour. You pushed his chair with your feet, enough to create distance between the two of you,stood up from the floor and grabbed hold of your clothes, putting them on one by one without speaking as much as a word.

"Well in that case ,sir." You finally put your shirt on and locked eyes with him ,a cocky smirk on your face."Imma show myself out.Professor Grimes was already looking for me...maybe he also wants to discuss anything about the basketball tournament..."

You could tell that he was taken back with your action but what clearly made him get rid of his poker face was your last implication.He scoffed as he stared at you."Hope you have a good time." He waved his hand at you.

" I most certainly will." You smiled mockingly at him. Oh you wanted nothing but to murder him. He brought you so close to your release and now that you wanted more ,he wouldn't give it to you. Fuck this guy.He's probably used to those girls he smiles at,edge them and make them desperate however if he thought that he could toy with you like that , he was mistaken."Have a good day."You made sure you hadn't forgotten anything,and walked to the door, stealing one last glance at the professor.

He wasn't pleased, but you didn't need to know that. "Have a good day too."Negan said back and looked at you as you left. Once you were out of the office he slammed his palm on top of his the desk. “Fuck.”

He murmured as he ran his palm from his forehead down to his chin.He looked at the door in abandon,lowered his head and caught his lips between his teeth momentarily.Then he smirked slightly,this wasn't over by any means...you might have thought that you over smarted him but the chase on both parts it's what he finds amusing. This is simply the beginning.

[laluna0]

negan is such a brat tamer and he doesn’t put up w any disrespect, or else you’ll be bent over his knee in seconds

“you knew what you were doin huh?”

“such slut, if you wanted daddy to spank you coulda just fuckin asked”

“but wait you’re just a fuckin brat who needs to be punished…one of these days you’ll learn your place”

[storywriter12]

Negan's only chapter 8 is up on wattpad this is a smut so please don't read of under age

[celtic-crossbow]

Since you said you were looking at requests could you please do something with Dom Daryl with overstimulation, breeding, and cockwarming? Maybe after the savior war trying to get pregnant or any later seasons Daryl? It’s almost 6:30 in the morning so those are just the prompts that came to me first, anything you write with them will be wonderful, thank you 🩷

If I get a Little Prettier, Can I be Your Baby?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (post Savior's War)

Warnings: Poorly written smut; p in v; cockwarming; forced orgasms; overstimulation; a hint of breeding, I guess? A/N: This request has been sitting in my inbox for weeks. Gods, I am so sorry for making you wait! I'm even more sorry that I was all over the place with this so I hope it's just good at all. I tried, Anon! I promise!

“S’the matter? Thought ya wanted this?” 

Daryl was sitting against the headboard, just as bare as you. You straddled his hips, stretched around his cock and had been for—well, you weren’t sure. He had kept you there, softening slightly every once in a while only to press a thumb against your swollen clit to quickly bring you to orgasm. Your convulsing walls brought him to fully hard within seconds. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done it, sometimes not even needing the stimulation. He would be throbbing with just as much need inside of you and still worked at you until you came, shuddering and whimpering his name like a mantra. 

“Please, Daryl, I need—”

“Ya need to sit there ‘til I say diff’rent.” His voice was low, gravelly. Stern, even. You felt your cunt clench and his hips jerk. You were so sensitive, yet still craving him. He could work miracles with those fingers but being so full and stretched without feeling him drag along your inner walls was torture. He wasn’t cruel, never. There was a safe word in place, always, no matter who held the reins. Whether out of sheer stubbornness or overwhelming desire, neither of you had ever used it.

“Yes, sir.” You breathed. Your fingers were splayed over his stomach, his muscles twitching with each miniscule movement you made, though you tried to sit stone still. 

The battle with the Saviors had been won. Negan was imprisoned. Alexandria was being rebuilt. Everyone was working together and there was, for at least the time being, a feeling of relative peace and safety. While you had never officially married, you had become Mrs. Dixon in every way except on paper, and that didn’t seem to matter much in those days. You and Daryl had talked about a family before, but always seemed to find some reason to deny yourselves. His worries of becoming his father, Wolves, Saviors, and of course, the dead. There was always something. 

It wasn’t until Daryl had been locked in Negan’s cell that he came to realize that waiting was futile. The world would never be safe. If you wanted to have children with him, he loved you enough to travel that road with you. He’d love his children because they were a part of both of you.

This? This was the first session in what would be many “practice runs.” Or maybe one time would be all it would take. 

“You’re bein’ such a good girl. Wanna cum for me again?” He smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear and letting that finger carve a trail down over your collarbone, circling your left breast before he pinched and rolled your nipple. You gasped and arched your chest toward him, making him hiss when your hips shifted. 

“S—sorry, sir.” You gasped, breathing heavily from just that slight stimulation. If he fucked you now, you feared you’d cum so quickly that it’d be embarrassing. From the twinkle in his eye, it didn’t seem like you were going to have a choice. You let out a squeak as he flipped you to your back, never separating from you but punching a moan from you both with the slight friction. 

“Think I’ve had enough’a toyin’ around. How ‘bout we get to work on puttin’ a baby in that belly?” Pressing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss, a dance of tongues and teeth, he hooked the back of your right knee over the crook of his elbow and rolled his hips. You pulled back from him, lest you bite his lip, which he’d honestly probably rather enjoy. Another deep thrust saw your hips rising to meet his. He didn’t stop you or reprimand you, so it was safe to say this was all about the endgame.

“Fuck, you feel good.” You whined with your nails scratching over his shoulders, red marks all the way to where you settled your hands on his ribs.

“Yeah?” He knew the answer, even if he did make the next snap of his hips a little rougher. Raising your head, you nuzzled your cheek against his and placed your mouth against his ear.

“Don’t hold back.” You whispered, licking the lobe and then the spot where his pulse raced. Daryl growled, letting your leg drop. When he reached up to grab the top of the headboard with one hand and then the other, you knew you were about to get absolutely ruined.

And couldn’t have been more turned on by the thought.

With a smirk of your own, you chose to let your legs fall open as wide as they could, almost to the point of painful. You were soon digging your nails right into his buttocks. It started with a cadence of rough snaps, his pelvic bone and the coarse hair above his cock slapping against your oversensitive clit. He chuckled above you, knowing exactly why you were making those sinful little noises. Your humiliatingly slick cunt squelched with each push and pull of his cock, only adding to the debauchery that could potentially be heard by the others in the house.

You only dug your fingers in harder, drawing up your knees but keeping your legs wide open. “Come on, Dixon.” You panted, biting back a cry when the next thrust made you see stars. “I thought you wanted to fuck a baby into me. Put in a little effort.”

It was that moment, you knew you had fucked up. 

Daryl went motionless, looking down at you through that curtain of sweaty, dark hair. He had one brow arched. He never let go of the headboard but leaned down between his arms until he was nose to nose with you, the most deliciously wicked smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. 

“Ya better hold on tight, Sunshine.”

The first thrust shunted you straight up to the headboard, one hand releasing its hold on his ass to slap palm down against the wood and protect the top of your head. And then he was absolutely ruthless. Fucking feral. He used his hold on the headboard as leverage and fucked you at a pace you’d never experienced. Soon, you had let go of him altogether, both palms planted firmly against the smooth surface above you. You couldn’t stop shouting long enough to even let him know you were cumming. Once, twice. A third sparking to life low in your belly. His grunts and groans above you were just fucking delectable and you distantly wished you could focus on the sounds your pussy was coaxing out of him but the feeling of him just absolutely splitting you in two took precedence. 

“‘Nough effort for ya?” He panted, slowing only slightly, just enough for you to see him scanning you for any signs that you wanted to stop, that you needed to use the safeword. You scoffed at him. However, you couldn’t seem to speak, so close to yet another orgasm. You saw his grip loosen, knew he was getting concerned, so you communicated your consent by flattening your feet on the mattress and rolling your hips up to take him deeper, both of you groaning. He worked his way back to the same brutal pace, his cock swelling and twitching inside of you. He was close.

You were closer.

Drawing in enough breath, somehow assembling enough presence of mind, you moaned out “I’m—I’m close—Please—”

Daryl grunted, dropping down from the headboard with a hand on either side of your head. “Let go, Sunshine.” He commanded through gritted teeth. “Fuck, m’gonna cum.” You had just felt the first tendrils of pleasure rip from your core when he thrust twice more, stilling against you and holding himself deep with a guttural moan, his muscles spasming and body trembling. “Fuck!” You were too lost on whatever cloud he’d sent you to, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape. Your chest was arched into him until you felt the burn in your muscles suddenly dissipate and you collapsed to the mattress, his name falling from your lips like a mantra. 

Daryl was still thrusting into you lazily, dragging out both of your orgasms until you just couldn’t take anymore and twisted your hips to the side with a whine. He let you lie down flat again before gently, slowly pulling out of you, barely moving himself over before he collapsed into a trembling heap. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, burning as it slid across the flesh of your abused cunt.

It never failed that no matter how fucked out he was himself, your well-being came first. Rolling his head toward you, he gave you a once over. “Y’alright? Did I hurtcha? Ya didn’t say—”

“I’m so good that I don’t think I’m ever coming back down to earth, thanks.” You blinked lazily at the ceiling before turning your head, letting it lull toward him to meet his eyes with a lopsided smile. “My god, Daryl Dixon, you just rocked my world.” 

God, you loved it when he blushed. He could be an absolute beast in bed—as he had just proven—and then go red as a tomato—as he currently was. Licking his lips slowly, he turned to admire the ceiling at the same time you did. 

“I’ll get up in a minute an’ get us cleaned up.” He was finally starting to sound like he had found his lungs and put them back in their rightful place. You lazily waved a hand. “Are ya really alright?”

You nodded, smiling stupidly once again. “I may not walk right for a few days.” You moved with a wince. “In fact, when you get up to get that towel, can you grab me a wheelchair? I think you dislocated my vagina.”

Daryl, of course, looked mortified. “Oh, come on. I’m fine. Just a little sore.” Propping up on your elbows, you grinned at him. “Besides, payback’s a bitch and next time, it’s my turn.” He mumbled christ under his breath and rolled off the bed, staggering toward the bathroom while you stared intently at the perfect round of his ass. “I’ll find the blindfold and handcuffs tomorrow!”

[slvtforoldermen]

Pedro’s Characters: The Dick-tionary

How big are Pedro Pascal’s characters and some NSFW headcannons

(WARNING: DETAILS OF PENISES AND TALKS OF SEX - MDNI)

Part Two <3

A/N: Sorry I never continued Fluff February :(, I lost motivation so I’ll just write them and post them as a prompt list for whenever…

Joel Miller:

Okay, all his characters are big, it’s a known fact, but Joel is 100% the biggest. Probably about 8.5 inches, with a pretty pink mushroom tip, and GIRTHY AGH! There’s a vein on it that is really visible when he’s hard. Oh and his balls are big too. Everything about Joel is just big. Not only is he big but you best believe he knows how to use it too. He’s got a daddy kink… Fav positions are missionary and cowgirl, however when he’s angry doggy or the mating press are a no-brainer. Daddy kink! DOMINANT!!! There’s no way this man is a sub, it just doesn’t work, he’s just so dom yknow, and when he’s soft, he’s the sweetest he’s ever been, but if he’s angry, hard dom Joel comes out and that’s a man you don’t wanna piss off if you wanna cum. He’s got such a daddy kink. “Fuck babygirl/boy, you’re so fucking sweet, sugar. So fucking good for daddy. Yeah baby? You like that? Such a good little girl/boy, so fucking sweet.” Daddy kink is such is a big thing for him. Hair wise? Well it’s the apocalypse so it’s probably hard to find the Manscaper 3000 or whatever. He trims his hair with some scissors, honestly he didn’t really care for shaving before you, so he just let it grow, but once when you were sucking him, you almost sneezed from how much it tickled your nose and made a little joke about it after, which made Joel feel a little bad so he cut them just a little shorter. Oh I’m sorry and did I mention… DADDY KINK!!!

Javier Peña:

(Here I’m purely writing about Javier Pena in a fictional sense AS PEDRO, not the real guy, this has nothing to do with the real Javier Pena)

Okay, Javier, my baby daddy. Um, who said that- ANYWAYS! Javier is probably the second biggest, in joint place with Oberyn, definitely about 7-7.5 inches, as he’s nicknamed by moi, the Pussy Slayer of Medellin. It goes without saying that Javier is rough, as we’ve seen, side note: I don’t know why I thought watching Narcos with my family would be a good idea… I was sat on the couch like “😀 okay, I’m watching Pedro have sex next to my mum, just a normal Saturday morning…” anyways back to it (hehe Negan reference) but Javier is rough, doggy and cowgirl are his favourite positions, but sometimes when he’s feeling a little somber he likes a little missionary. As how domestically-kinky I like my men, I’m a little disappointed that Javier isn’t a committed man, but he does have a tiny 🤏 breeding kink, he defo isn’t a fan of being called daddy, in fact just call him Javi and he’s yours, and he’s dom obviously. “Oh carino, you take my cock so well, you good little whore… fuck… my sweet little angel.” I mean, we’ve all seen his hair, so do we really need address it, that also might genuinely be my fav sex scene in all of cinema history.

Oberyn Martell

Okay, admittedly, I haven’t seen any proper scenes of Oberyn, because I’ve just started GOT, so I have no clue what his character is like apart from being a HUGE BISEXUAL SLUT, so he’s just like me 🤭

Oberyn, tying with Javier, is about 7-7.5 inches, and I feel like his cock is definitely a lot more tan than others, idk why, it’s just an instinct. Defo uncircumcised. His fav positions are definitely cowgirl OH and dude is the literal definition of a pillow prince, again, just like me. Suck his dick, please, just suck his dick. Again, I don’t know how he’s presented in GOT, but I’m like 74% sure he’s dominant? From the clips I’ve seen 🫣 Hair wise, do razors exists in the GOT world? Or does my man just shave himself with a sword.

Javi Gutierrez:

Oh my sweet baby Javi… he’s so kinky. I’m fully convinced he’s into full BDSM, not so much where he has to do it every single time, but maybe like once a month. When I was watching TUWOMT for the first time, when Nick is about to go into the room with all his merch and stuff, I was dead convinced it was gonna be a sex dungeon. There’s no way a man is this sweet and adorable without being into some freaky shit.

Anyway, Javi is about 6.5 inches, with a sweet pink tip and he’s definitely a giver not a taker, don’t get him wrong, he ADORES you with his dick in your mouth, but he prefers to eat you out/suck your dick for hours on end. Oh and he’s a sweet talker, when you guys aren’t being full kinky, he’ll praise you to hours on end, mumbling in your ear how good you are in that sexy accent of his. Is a little bit of a switch, but mostly dominant, soft dom if it’s a normal night but if it’s that special night, only your safe word will pull him out of hard dom space. Definitely the type to overstimulate you in a sweet way “you can take it right sweetheart? Mi amor~ just take my cock nice and good, ahí tienes.” Um, daddy kink for surely, but not like every single night like Joel. But when he’s between your legs, and he’s stimulated you so far into sub space, and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, and you’re reaching up for him, babbling how good his cock feels in your hole, he can’t help but coo down at you and praise you so hard. He’s not bald, but his hair isn’t long, just trimmed to the point where it tickles your nose when you suck his cock.

Din Djarin

Okay, so I think it’s canon that Din hasn’t really ever felt human touch, so I feel he’s really inexperienced… but the dude’s got a pretty dick. Like it’s just so… pretty. About 6 inches with a sweet baby pink tip, he’s so sensitive too. He loves head but he really can’t say it, he’s just too embarrassed. I just get the vibe that he’s mostly subby. He tried to be dom once but the poor baby couldn’t handle it all. But then he tried again and he did so good, but it tired him out, so if he’s domming, which is once in a blue moon, he’s going to be soft, maybe even softer than Javi. Mommy/Daddy kink!! “Please, I’m good right? Please, please tell me I’m doing good… you always feel so so good, I love you so much.” Please, he’s so sweet I love him. It’s rare that you guys get off together because of reasons due to his upbringing and stuff so he just likes being taken care of, the sweet boy. Before you, he never really cared for shaving, so when you first strip together, he’s a little nervous about it, and then after that he trims it, quite short.

Marcus Moreno

If anyone says this man is a hard dom they’re just kidding themselves, this man is the sweetest man out there, obviously not as much as Din ofc <3.

Marcus has an obsession with using his hands, making you cum just by fingering you. Then when he’s inside you, he slips his fingers into your mouth, or around your neck, or on your cheek. His dick is about 7 inches, and like everyone else, knows how to use it perfectly. Angel is one of his favourite nicknames to call you. “My perfect Angel, taking my cock so good baby…” whilst hes thrusting into you ever so gently. Would never EVER do it when Missy is around, so quickies before picking Missy up from school are his go to, but he loves the days where his mom can take her out for the day or even a grandma sleepover so he can be with you for hours. You under him, over him, him inside you, his good girl/boy, his good angel. Pleasuring you until you get numb. The armpit hair in the scene of the gif gets me and idk why, I have never had a thing for armpit hair but maybe I’m just really horny, but his hair down there is nice and trimmed, not bald, never bald.

Tim Rock(Hard)Ford

Here we go…

Oh Tim man! I have a teensy 🤏 detective kink so when Pedro played this role it was over for me.

Maybe it’s the greying, like Joel, but I feel like he’s huge, just like Joel. He’s 8 inches, living his best life. But he’s just a tired old man, so when he gets home, please just get on your knees for him, he’ll just lay there, stroking your hair, praising you, telling you how good you suck his cock. Then he’ll bring you up to the bed and return the favour, making sure to always get you to tell him about your day as he does so. Saturday nights are always his favourite time to rail into you, he’s had the whole day off, just resting, watching you walk around, getting him so worked up. He has a domestic kink. So seeing you do chores get him so hard. Loves fucking between your thighs when you’re sleeping because he gets home so late and just needs a little relief, but you look so cute and peaceful while you sleep and because he’s so considerate, he doesn’t wanna wake you. “So good for me baby, so good for daddy, gonna fill you up, you’re not gonna let any of my cum slip out right, gonna keep it all in your tummy, yeah, that’s it, cum for me.” TALKS YOU THROUGH IT!!! Sleeps naked. Not trimmed, not shaved, just grows it out, he’s old so he doesn’t care, it’s not like anyone but you would be seeing him like this anyways.

Dieter Bravo

I love Dieter, he’s so cute.

Not dom, but not sub either, just dom enough to see you break under him but sub enough to whimper and get soooo desperate. Such a huge pillow prince, he loves it when you suck him, especially when you grab his balls and caress them, he cums so quick when that happens. He’s about 6.5 inches, and it loves fast, not as in quickie, but he loves seeing you fall apart as he jackhammers into your hole. When you ride him he gets so sweet, and he can last long, don’t worry, but you just look so pretty on top of him, he can’t help it, please don’t be mad at him. Has a thing for dry humping, especially in the morning when he’s too lazy to move properly. “So good baby, oh yeah, fuck, grind against me just like that, mmmf fuck…” loves to beg and watch you beg, he’s so good to and for you, don’t doubt him ever. He doesn’t shave, he trims it, but he’s so goofy, so once he shaved it into a heart.

[writella]

Screwed Up and Brilliant

Synopsis: Negan is ready for you. Daryl isn’t; and maybe he’ll never be. Negan makes that clear to you tonight.

Details: Negan Smith x fem!reader, Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (mentioned), Negan is a bad guy but there is nuance— at least I hope I accomplished doing so, angst, guilt, forbidden love, probably super stereotypical, reader at the Sanctuary, moral dilemma reader (but you got to understand, they’re both so fine!!), I feel like I need more cws but I can’t think of them and of course, smut, 18+: consensual, unprotected, vague dacryphilia, soft? dom!Negan, lite daddy kink, fingerings, riding, and basically just Negan blowing your brains out… but not in the walker way— the good way, the way we like. Amen.

A/N: Could you believe I started writing this in October or something? This is my first time writing Negan and I’m scared I may not have gotten it right so definitely feel free to give notes! This is set during season 7/8, I’m picturing Negan at the end of 8 and later seasons but there’s something about him older that gives me heart eyes everywhere, but whatever you prefer makes me happy. Anyway, from my heart, and maybe somewhere a little lower, to yours; with love from writella. ♡

You’re screwed up and brilliant, look like a million-dollar man; so why is my heart broke?

—— LDR, Million Dollar Man

The space was clean; minimal. The kind that let out no secrets of the owner that inhabited its insides. And of course there were the little things that let out some slight details: the ashtray on the nightstand— a smoking habit; a ring, a metal chain, another of black rope— an unsuspected, albeit small, interest in jewelry; the bottom nightstand closed by a lock—mysterious and cautious, though that was to be expected. It was only reasonable he’d have something he wanted hide. But other than that, Negan’s bedroom was quite unreadable; almost purposefully mundane.

There was a fireplace, a window at the corner, and a bed at the center. It had a dark, brass, rusted headboard that leaned against the wall. Two pillows at either side. The sheets were white, and the large blanket was of fur, a tan or medium brown, it was thick and heavy. Probably unnecessary for the approaching spring heat, but it adored the bed end well; matching the other bronze, or brown, wooden and darker aspects of the room. Even the light from the small fire, though you could see clearly, made everything mildly dim— the Sanctuary wasn’t known for its brightness after all.

And truly, nothing in this bedroom, or in this fortress of a place could be described as anything close to bright. Unless you counted the sun outside in the courtyard, or the largest fireplace that blazed in the main hall, or Negan’s piercing, priceless smile— so pristinely white, so wide it almost looked painful to perform. There was an eeriness to it as well. That was at the forefront, and everyone saw it. With the way he maintained their cleanliness, it was something that could look so pure, so put-together on any other; but on him, its power could scare you into worthlessness. It’s the one he used when he told someone what to do even if they hated it; it’s the one he used when killing someone’s best friend.

It’s also the one he used on the first day he ever spoke to you. The first time that truly mattered, really.

It was during Negan’s first supply gathering at Alexandria.

You still remember it well.

Your faces filled with desolation, but chins held high; you were strong— good at hiding the pain, the fear— only straight, pokered eyes and mouths allowed as everyone silently agreed with you. You had told Negan that Maggie was dead.

The Widow, he had coined her. The wife of your good friend that he killed— so generous a man was Glenn, even when he wasn’t trying to be. And she’s your friend too, brave Maggie. That’s the one he wanted, but as far as he knew, she was gone.

Thank God, you thought, Thank God, yes, indeed, until—

Negan’s eyes glazed over your frame for just a moment too long.

You weren’t speaking anymore. You kept it short enough. He should have turned his attention back to Rick but he didn’t.

Where there was sly roguery in Negan’s eyes, anxiety weld in the looks of all others: Rick’s throat tensed and tightened uneasily, sweat trailing down his curls and onto his forehead; Rosita’s jaw clenched with bitterness, brows furrowing under her green khaki cap with anger; and then there was Gabriel: his eyes turned from solemnity and pretend peacefulness to wide bewilderment. The plan you two exchanged had worked: you would tell Negan of Maggie’s passing, as per your idea, and Gabriel would swiftly solidified your lie by saying he was the one who officiated the short funeral. But then, another problem arose; one where he could be nothing else but helpless in aiding you. What was he, or anyone to do? It was easy to help Maggie, she was more than twenty miles away. But you, you were here. Right in front of him.

“Wait a minute…” Negan’s pointer shakes lightly by his temple, his mind turning curiously. “You.” He said, shooting his finger in the direction of your chest.

His smile, mischievous as ever, only grew wider as a moment passed and he made his realization: “You’re the one with that- tight- grip!” He balled his raised hand into a fist as he said it. A slight snicker came after, proud of his entendre. “My men were tryna put Daryl in the trunk and you latched onto his foot like it was your dying- act- which—” you attempt to lessen the startle in your eyes at his upward hitch in tone, “—it most certainly could have been.”

Negan comes closer now, his face nearing your own, “But you know better now, right?”

Obviously, you did not.

Or you would have stayed home, not given him the chance to remember you as he said he would after your nails could no longer claw into Daryl’s ankle. He was thrashing too much and Negan’s men pushed you away; they were too strong together against the two of you. They kicked dirt in your face for it, held a gun to your head until Negan told them to stop. His point was made with your two friends he had killed, no need for another— especially not one who amused him like you had just done.

‘DAYUM. She is surprisingly strong!’ He had yelled, ignoring the weeping faces of you and the group kneeling in a line on the ground; sweat, blood, and tears dripping everywhere. ‘And I do like ‘em loyal…’ He had given you a once over while telling his men, ‘Hands off, gentlemen,’ and before returning his attention back to Rick, he added, ‘I’ll keep my eye on you.’

And he did.

You made an impression.

Now you’ll pay.

Rick should have told you why he wanted you to stay with Judith. He remembered what Negan said too. He remembered what Negan said to everyone. He couldn’t forget. But maybe it didn’t matter. It was only the start of Negan’s day here. Maybe he would have found you anyway.

Rick would feel it was all his fault nonetheless, but all you could think about is how truly, it was your own, and no one’s at all.

The sun allows glints of wickedness to sparkle in the whites of Negan’s teeth as he continues imparts his demand, “From now on, don’t stop me when I’m giving an order, okay?” It’s like you can hear him underlining his words just with his darkened voice. Turning his waist, he extends his hand to everyone as he finishes, “And that goes for all of you.”

You force your face to remain leveled as he meets your eyes again, that cheshire look returning directly toward you. He curls his head to the side, whispering near your profile, “So… you’re his girl, huh?”

Your mouth becomes slightly agape. You don’t even realize it before you can try to close it. He asked the question of aversion, or at least that’s what you assumed it was to Daryl.

You knew it was just his way, that speaking about things like this might have not been his strong suit. Besides, there were more things to worry about almost all the time, but it still hurt to know that when asked, the only complete and honest answer there could be was no.

Your eyes trail down slowly, desperate to avoid his, and Daryl’s face— a few feet away from you— turning to the side, looking at nothing. He could not hear what was being asked, but maybe Rick did, Rosita and Gabriel too. It was unclear, but their eyes prodded with more tension, more worry, Daryl could register that, and even more so, he could not stand Negan’s face that close to yours; he was probably trying to make an advance on you, scare you, or both. He pretends not to care, but ultimately it’s useless. Negan detects your expression and turns to look at Daryl’s; he notices both failing attempts at impassivity.

“Oh,” he muses, voice returning to its normal volume, “or not, my bad…. I guess that does make more sense though.” He speaks louder now, casually, like he’s a close friend consoling you about your boy troubles, “I personally haven’t been able to hold a conversation with the guy either, and I’m just tryna be friends.”

Daryl was right. Negan was weaseling his way in. He snarls because of it.

Only Dwight hears this and sends him a warning glare.

You feel the sweat beading from your hairline to the nape of your neck. The danger felt from Negan’s presence was as thick as the sun’s heat that shone directly on the cemetery grove. It’s hard to look up and especially to look at him directly for that long as if he truly was the fire in the sky, so you look down again.

Negan pats your shoulder sympathetically, his hand then going to hold up your chin, his thumb tracing your jaw softly.

It makes Daryl’s arms twitch and his stance jerks forward, but he’s pushed back, Dwight beating him on the chest. It’s only once but you can hear it, everyone heard it.

It only makes Negan’s grin become more sly because— there it is— a reaction; an answer. It makes what he’s about to do that much more sweet: “Fuck, darlin’. I’m sorry. Idiot,” he tisks. Then more quietly he adds, “I’m not one though.”

This time it’s for sure: Rick caught that, and Rosita too. They give each other an alarming look as Negan continues to trail over your dispirited form, like a wilted flower. His hand lowers back down to your shoulder, then trails to your arm, to the elbow, and then off of you entirely.

Despite the feeling of Lucille under his grasp telling him he shouldn’t, Rick urges himself to speak before Negan says what they all know is coming. “Negan,” he starts, swallowing the slight shake in his voice, “would you like to see the pantry—”

“Did I ask you to speak, Rick?” Negan states, his frame still positioned in front of you. “I’m thinkin’ here… I’m thinkin’… particularly, that you should come with me.”

Daryl makes a sound that you couldn’t hear, for Dwight was already barking a “Shut up,” at him. Only the swat he gives to Daryl’s shoulder is what is once again heard by all.

You almost choke on your gasp, but you hold it in. Only letting out the faintest sound as you ask, “What?”

“You heard me,” he plainly says. “I mean, what do you even do here anyway?”

You almost felt embarrassed to answer.

“No, I’m askin’. Seriously. Does Rick actually utilize you?”

As you begin, your voice is still quiet, “I… I work in the garden, with the produce… I help tutor the kids… I go on runs, gather supplies. I cook. Help with weapons maintenance, I—” you stop, realizing your grocery list of jobs probably sounds pathetic to him, you’re like a chore boy, “— I do a lot. But everyone does.”

“Hm,” Negan responds, playing with his nails nonchalantly. Your thoughts come to fruition with his next words, “So you’re just everyone’s helper?”

He noticed the sad offense emanating from your eyes, so he raised his hands, “And those are important things to do, I mean it. It must mean you know quite a bit from everyone, that’s smart, and there’s no trouble in it. But… I saw you. I think you can do more.”

“How?” You can still only gasp out your words. “I’m not Maggie. And she’s not here.”

“No.” He brings up one finger, “But you’re clever,” you look at him confused as he brings up his middle finger to join the first, “and quick on your feet, that I now know.” A third and fourth finger comes up, “You’re strong, you’re loyal— things I’ve stated before.” Then the fifth he says with a smug smile, “And you’re a looker, I must admit.” He moves his hand to one side of his mouth, pretending to secretly tell you, “But that’s just a plus,” he winks. “And more importantly, it seems to me that just like most people in Prick’s community, you are undervalued and not paid attention to whereas I see potential.” He says it all so simply, he truly believes he’s offering you so much better that he finally ends by saying: “Hm. Yeah. I think you’ll be much better off with me.”

And so, with no true goodbyes said, in a van you went after Negan’s visit was done. A different one from Daryl’s, of course. Taken away from the first home you had in ages.

Before the trunk door closed, Negan gave you parting words: “You see?” He had said, “I told you I’d remember you, didn’t I?”

The words rang in your ears for the entire ride as they still do now, even more or less than two months later as you sit in his room.

Your heartbeat started to rise little by little as time went on and he hadn’t arrived. With the window allowing you to escape into thought, you were left to think about the last couple of days, and specifically, the last time you were in here:

You were sitting with him on his bed. You had asked if you could talk about anything other than the world you two lived in now, and surprisingly, he obliged. It was nice. Sometime later, he had finally opened that locked drawer.

You heard him suck his teeth, what he was getting seemed lost, which allowed you to take a closer peek inside.

There was a picture of a woman. The first wife? The only real one? You couldn’t tell and you wouldn’t ask, it would have been too much. You didn’t even get a good look at the woman anyway— part of her face was covered and he was fast. But he saw your eyes, so you decided to take note of the books you caught a glimpse of, pretending it was the only thing you saw. You try to think of something to say… It did make sense he was a reader, at least even mildly if that was all it was. The way he describes his ideals, his persuasiveness, his diction— it impressed you, even if you disagreed with a lot of it. It was almost ironic that the only cover you saw was of a dictionary, the more valuable ones probably hidden under. “Is that where you get all your big boy words from?” You asked.

“Some of them,” he joked back, composing himself.

It was strange to almost catch him off guard. It was so unlike him to allow it, but what happened next felt even more surprising.

Whatever he got from the drawer was enclosed in his hand. He put the free one on top of the other as he started, “Now… I don’t want you thinking I’m growing soft on you. I just thought you deserve it because—” and then his voice fades. Even Negan, the ever curse-filled wordsmith, was finding it hard to describe in any other way that he was pleased with something as absurd as you not trying to escape anymore. He knew you would probably think that was the only reason for a gift, but then he opted for something that even you couldn’t help but know was equally true, “You don’t seem to proactively hate me anymore. You’re here. I appreciate it, so I wanted to,” he says sincerely. “That’s all.”

Negan opened his hand, resting the piece in your palm— it was a locket; lovely and rusted floral engravings all over it.

You felt sad that you thought it was beautiful, and even worse for knowing the reasons why he was giving it to you. No wonder his voice had faltered.

You remember the soft shock and awe on your face, how you said thank you and how your face felt so hot when you said it, how he asked you to turn, and how you looked at him from behind you after he put the piece on. He was so close and it felt like he was coming closer. You don’t remember if that part was real, but you can see it so clearly that it must have been. Unfortunately, the only thing you remember for certain is that knock at the door that sent Negan away to handle whatever was going on downstairs.

Had you almost let him kiss you? Would you have liked it? Are you the most deplorable person for even thinking that while Daryl was somewhere else locked up at the time?

“I see they delivered my message.”

You return from your daze, your startle leaving as soon as it comes.

It was just him. There Negan finally was.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just come in. The door was unlocked.”

“I knew the meeting was gonna go longer than expected; thought you might as well make yourself comfortable.” He gestures to you, “which I see you did, and no—“ you were getting up from his bed, “it’s fine.” Negan sets Lucille near the door. He walks over to you, sitting down on the edge of his bed as well. There is a bit of distance between you two.

“You know, I came back the other day,” he informs, “I was actually going to talk to you last night, but then I heard you tried to leave. Again.” His eyebrows furrow, “We still on that?” He asks. “Thought we had a breakthrough the other night.”

“But after Carl—“

“—Carl,” he interjects, “came here all by his badass self, and for that, I did not lay even my pinky fuckin’ finger on him.” His hand goes to his chest, “I even took him home like a gentleman. And after I got here and found out they put you in a cell without supper, I had you back in your bed before midnight yesterday, so I’d say I’m doing pretty well.”

“Seriously?” Your incredulity is hidden under the softness of your voice as you say it, but it’s cracking.

“As a heart attack. It’s your ex-people who don’t listen. At least I was nice this time.”

You sigh heavily, docility officially fading. You shake your head with a slight chuckle, “That’s hard to believe. Especially if you were gone for most of the day. I know what that means. You had whatever the fuck your version of fun is.”

He grits his teeth, holding his words back. You’ve gotten a little too comfortable with the back talk, and you especially shouldn’t be saying anything after the night you had yesterday, but he allows it.

This time.

Of course, he didn’t like you leaving, but he rather that it was Daryl who escaped than you. And based on the bruises: one on the side of your head, one high on your shoulder— he imagines you might have gotten pushed against a wall— and the light ones that littered in a couple of spots on both your arms— he could tell his men must have been rough with you as they brought you back. He didn’t like that; therefore, he lets you quip. Someone would be getting their own bruises for it some time later anyway. He would take your smartass mouth out on them to cover for it.

“Maybe,” he finally says. “Nothing was undeserved though.”

You breathe in, the back and forth was no use. “What happened yesterday?” You asked, losing the sarcasm. Your eyes peered into his for honesty, hoping to skip the sly replies and get to the truth. “Just tell me what happened at home.”

Home. You knew better than to use that word. In fact, you have just stopped using that word. He let out an exasperated laugh, but skipped the lecture. “You want the truth? Or just the SparkNotes?”

You roll your eyes lightly. You probably don’t even notice you did it. Despite the situation being discussed, it makes Negan’s head turn endearingly— your tone of voice, the things you say, the way you react to him… you still don’t realize how fresh you’ve gotten with him, how comfortable. But he sees it.

“Alright. Well, Spencer’s gone.” He reveals offhandedly, replying to your silence.

Your eyes do not widen, you know what gone means. You simply nod and try to not think about how the now-cleaned bat most likely looked before.

“And don’t tell me that you care,” he says, pretending to interject to your continuing silence. “You gotta know he was a small dick nepo-prick, right?”

You bite the inside of your lip, shaking your head slightly. You won’t give in to a cheap joke even if it was pretty accurate, so he beckons you by name, “C’mon, that was funny.”

Still, you give him nothing.

He sighs; taking off his leather; and sits near you on the bed, his hands cupping the ledge. “Thought we were finally over this quiet thing.”

“A lot has happened this week.”

“Like…” he prodes. He would only talk about it if you brought it up.

Your eyes shut tightly before opening again. You didn’t want to say it, but you had to. “You know what. Daryl.”

He states the fact plainly, “Daryl left you.���

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice is fierce now. You can’t believe it. You won’t. “He’s not that kind of person and this isn’t an easy place to get out of— I obviously know that— he wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I know,” he jeers, “but he did and he didn’t bring you with him. Even though you were found trying to find his cell. That’s some real idiotic bullshit right there, isn’t it? From both of you.”

You glared at him hotly, you wouldn’t give it up, but unfortunately you had no rebuttal. Both of you would just continue on with the same argument, the conversation going nowhere. And not because either side knew they were completely right; in truth, neither of you actually knew what happened the other day. But in this regard, you felt there was no other choice: you believed in Daryl fully.

Because he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Right?

You continue shaking your head, trying to find something to say in retaliation as you feel your sureness withering. Separating you two was the smartest tactic. You now have nothing to hold onto. “He wouldn’t,” you repeat pathetically, “I don’t believe you.” Unfortunately it’s not quite enough, so he continues with a rant you know all too well.

“You don’t believe me?” He cups the ends of the bed more tightly, positioning himself closer to you. “When I’m the one who gave you the safest roof? Secure food, clean water, access to all these pretty dresses, which, I know you’ve become accustomed to—” and here it comes— “I saved you!”

Saviors and their “saving,” you sneered at it. What bullshit. “You didn’t save me.”

“But I gave you someone to talk to… Huh?” He taunts, waiting for your response but nothing comes. He uses it to his advantage, “You’re quiet cause you know it’s true.”

But you know something too. He says it before you can.

“Or fuck, maybe I just gave myself someone to talk to.”

You pretend you can’t hear the earnesty in it. “Stop,” you scoff. “Don’t treat me like I’m special. I was the second choice.”

“I think with my dick sometimes. You’re the only choice.”

You start to shake your head, your face is flushed; scared, hot, and a little bit of something else that you refuse to let out. Then the tears come— the room feels so big and you two are so close and there are so many feelings you’re trying to push down. “It doesn’t matter,” you say wearily, “You took me. And you took him. You hurt him, I saw his face.” Your voice begins to tremble, almost in unison with the tears that peak out on your eyelids. “And that outfit you put him in. He didn’t even look me in the eye.”

“Stop,” he warns.

“You didn’t even let me see him.”

“He doesn’t notice you.”

“You don’t know us.”

“I know you.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know you’re not happy… What about the other night?”

You ignore him, shaking your head: “You hurt my friends.”

“What about the other night?” He persists, his voice slowly growing louder. “What about every time I let you sit in on my meetings? What about how you have your own room? What about how I actually talk to you?”

“You let him get hurt—” the tears start to fall, there is a quiver in your voice but you still match his near shout, “And you almost killed Carl—”

“Shut up.”

“And you killed Abraham—”

He warns you by name.

“And Glenn! Maggie’s husband—”

“SHUT. UP.”

“The baby won’t have a father, Negan!”

His voice is low and grim as he demands you to “Stop. Now.” Negan grabs the sides of your neck as he says his next line, it comes out brisk and harsh and heavy like his touch as his hand wraps around your neck. “I knew you lied to me.”

Your voice is hushed, feeling his lightly pressed thumbs on the front of your throat as you speak shakily, “I’ve never lied to you.”

“Maybe not since you’ve been here, but did you hear yourself right now?” He pauses, allowing you a second to let it sink in. “You just fucking proved it.”

Your eyes widen at the realization. The baby, you had said. Fuck.

“See? Told you, you were smart.”

And he did. Brave Maggie. Clever you. That was his reason number one.

“You have to get why.”

His voice remains eerily calm. “I do.”

Another tear falls and his thumb presses its pad under your eye, spreading a tear on your face as the next one comes down.

“Negan…” you say. It’s a mix of a warning and a plea but you can’t tell for what, both fear and fire mix together because of his proximity. His touch and stare was dangerous, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was pleased he caught your slip up, thrilled to see you cry, but there was also something about it— his touch, his eyes— that was equally intoxicating. There was something more tender there as well, something you didn’t want to turn away from, he wasn’t as rough as you thought. Nonetheless, your answer to these conflicting feelings are ones of neglect, you stay your course. “You’re a bad person,” you tell him.

“Please,” he whispers back, “just stop.”

His eyes glaze over your features with an intent look you’ve only seen once before, it was that other night in fact. It’s almost gentle, but maybe it’s just pity, so you don’t let it stop you. “But you are.”

“Stop,” he pleads, then it’s hushed, “just stop…” he says, “just stop.” Then he starts coming closer. “Tell me to stop.”

And you know you should get up.

You should, you should, you should, you know it but— you don’t.

You breathe into it.

His lips latch onto yours; your heads tilt; you lock perfectly.

Everything after happens fast, the instantaneous mess of it all: he waited and waited, and of course he would. He was waiting for you to see it, to feel it. He thought the other night was the breakthrough, but no, it was tonight, it was how you didn’t back away just now.

His hand goes lower on your leg, nearing your knees so he can get under your dress, trailing up your thigh, reaching the inner side that’s pressed up to the other one.

His hand on your neck brings you in closer, traveling up to under your chin and jaw, holding you so tight, but so sweetly. All you felt was surprise. He slips his tongue in, it's deep and intense. He brings a velvet warmth that you’d never expect from him. It was paradoxical; a fiery heaven of a feeling.

He starts rubbing your clit over your panties, kissing his way up to your ear as he does so to ask, “When’s the last time someone’s fucked you?”

Your lips are parted, but you cannot speak, so he continues.

“Daryl never did, did he?” He asks in a muffle, continuing to kiss and kiss. “Who was before him?”

Again, no verbal response, but your breath does hitch at his touches. He continues to draw circles, your wetness now slowly dampening the material, making it easier for his finger to place itself between your folds, so he dips his hand under the band. That and his whispering makes you feel a kind of spark that shoots all the way down to where his fingers are touching. The first press of his thumb without any material in between forces a sudden heat to rise that instantly causes a flush of liquid to slip down your hole, it feels messier than it actually is until his fingers go lower spreading it everywhere. You were much wetter than you thought, and you can’t help how good it feels, how easily you’re responding to it.

Negan calls your name, holding in every cocky reply he wanted to give about how wet you are— he needed an answer to his question first. So he looks you in the face, making sure he has your full attention, “You’re fuckin’ with me, right?” His words are meant more genuinely than his tone implies. “Not at all during any of this?”

You shake your head small and slowly. No.

He laughs pitifully, he doesn’t mean it rudely, but he just can’t help it. A touch-starved baby at the mercy of his fingertips? “Well, god-damn.”

He felt like a rich man.

He begins to kiss your lips again, now pumping his fingers into you. Your walls tighten. It’s only two, but they’re his. It’s new and exciting. His kiss makes you lean into the bed, the force of his head and tongue going deeper into your mouth guiding you to lay flat as his fingers still play.

“I hope you know how fucking soaked you are,” he finally says. “You need it so bad that it feels this damn good with me only touching you like this?” You can’t help the way your body jerks up and he can’t help but be smug about it. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Your eyes grow vicious at his grin, you almost want to hit him, but you can’t. All you can do is suppress your moan into a quiet whine. He’s so magnetic— his touch feels forbidden but so right; his voice so alluring; and his midas touch pulls you deeper and deeper into a trance, you might as well be turning into gold. Other than the involuntary reactions your body makes as his fingers continue going into your hole, now slowly going in and out as his eye gloss over your body in your favorite dress that you wore the most, you’re left paralyzed; subjected to following his lead. Wherever he wanted to go next, you’d let him.

He takes his fingers from inside of you and you look up quickly. You made sure not to whine at the loss of contact but your eyes couldn’t hide your dismay. All he did was smile and quickly lick away the wetness.

“Just takin’ this off,” he tells you as his hands cross over to the ends of his white t-shirt, slipping it off and onto the ground, one of those small rope chains hitting his chin as he does so.

It was only his shirt but you’re struck by him: to see more of his ever present sun-kissed skin felt almost godly. He was pretty lean, not too lanky like his stature, but not too broad either. Light curves of muscles adorned his chest and shoulders and arms. His chest and abdomen were slightly hairy, a tattoo placed on the upper right side and you finally saw the other tattoos placed on his upper arms more clearly. They looked nice on him. He was so handsome. You felt more wetness peeking out from down below. He looked so big above you.

“Like what you see, beautiful?” That typical snark still laced his voice, but there was a genuinity to it as well. He wanted you to like what you saw; to like him.

His words make your face hot, eyes casting off to the side. It was easier to talk to him when you were mad at him, when it was about home, even just small talk about the Sanctuary; this felt… different. Just like the other night.

You had almost already forgotten that his charm worked this way too; in a kinder way— when his eyes are wide, when his smile is soft, when he calls you sweet names without the irreverent, quip-filled pretenses.

It made you have all the words on the tip your tongue: how handsome and sexy you could say he is, how much you liked his tattoos, even all the greys that littered his hair and beard l, or how, if you had to admit it, you liked that dumb shit-eating grin of his, but all you can do is lightly smile, a quiet laugh escaping your lips at your bashfulness. You finally nod. “Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes, “maybe.”

He starts undoing his belt with a laugh of his own, “Oh I know you’re a fuckin liar if you think I’m a maybe.”

As his pants drop to the floor he takes each hand and places them over your shoulders on the bed to ask, “May I take off the lady’s dress?”

Your eyes widened, your open mouth only letting out a sweet, surprised, and whispered, “Huh?”

“What? Didn’t expect me to be a gentleman?”

You try to compose yourself, calm the fire you feel all throughout your body, and pretend you haven’t already given in completely right when he kissed you. “I just didn’t expect it would be all this slow.”

He laughs inwardly, glad to see the personality he came to know come back after all that happened these past two days. “Just give me a moment,” he jokes back. “You think I’m gonna waste seeing the reaction of you watching my cock spring out just so I can shove it in fast? ” He comes closer, his voice lowers now, “Believe it or not, I don’t think you’re just some doll or a fuck-piece.” The groundedness of his voice is something you’ve never heard before. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already stated that I see you. And truly, I think you’re damn gorgeous.”

Your eyes are stars. How can you even react? He thinks you’re gorgeous and you’re taken aback. “Thank you,” is all you can quietly say.

“You’re welcome.” He responds with eyes that have never looked so honest, so soft. You get lost in them and he has to pull you back, returning to his question, “May I?”

You nod, quick and excitedly, “You can take it off, Negan.”

He grabs your hands and stands you up. You look up at his face and his fingers move to the ends of your dress, pulling it over your head.

The tips of his fingers trace your chest and stomach lightly, delicately touching your skin as if it’s porcelain. He grabs your waist and travels up to take off your bra, then pushes down your wet underwear.

Negan’s cock stirs at the sight, you’re so pretty and so ready for him. “And I didn’t even need to see it to know I was right.” Just like he said, you’re gorgeous.

Negan pushes down his boxers. Cock springing up. Big and veiny with a red tip. He was itching to get inside of you.

And there you were, eyes and mouth open wide, scared and excited all at once. You were intimidated but surprisingly not scared if it would fit or not. You would let him do anything to get himself inside of you, even if it hurt.

“There it is,” he says, pleased with your reaction. He comes closer to your ear now, pushing you down by the hips against the bed once more. “And trust me, if you like that, you won’t fucking believe how I’ll feel inside of you. Just wait.”

“I…” He wanted to make you feel good, you’re almost speechless. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” He says, and then he places himself above you, admiring your glistening folds as he spreads your legs. He already lines himself up, he could look at you forever but he is in no desire to wait any longer. He pushes in. It’s a bit fast, a tight fit, it must have hurt you, but he’s too excited, he can’t help it. He lets out a hum and then a groan at the feeling of your walls enclosing him, and he hears you gasp at his size. He starts to pump into you immediately.

His face hovers over yours. His eyes study your features and he realizes he’s never been this close. Of course he hasn’t, he’s never fucked you, made love to you. He’s just now noticing the way your eyelashes curl, what birthmarks adorn your upper body or not, and how many earrings you may have, but most importantly, he’s noticing the way you react to him: the way your eyebrows might scrunch, or what elicits more pants and squirmings, the way your lips tug tightly against each other or open into ovals and circles depending on what he does, how he thrusts, where he touches, how he moves.

It all makes him slowly speed up. He can’t take it anymore. He kisses your neck and jaw— some kisses sweet, then others that are rough and he begins to pump and pump. Faster and faster.

“Oh,” you choke out before moaning, “ah.”

He continues, loving every facial expression you make until he finally speaks. “Alright. I gave you a break— now tell me how it feels?”

All you can do is whine incoherently.

“Excuse me?” He says more sternly. You know what he wants.

“Negan,” you whine again.

He stops. “Yes?” He asks all too knowingly. “Gonna use your words and tell me how it feels?”

You sigh, taking the hand placed on your hip and moving up toward the ends of your stomach, all the way up to your left breast. You let his hand rest there, feeling the heat and your quickened heartbeat radiating from the area. “You… you feel so good.” Your eyes are watery, “Amazing.”

You got him there, and he almost can’t help but start hammering it in, but then he remembers… he doesn’t have to help it. He could do whatever he wanted, so he does. He squeezes your breast, grinning wildly as he gives you one hard thrust. “Damn right,” he tells you, hearing your yelp before pounding fast.

You had always been quiet but he never quite saw you at a loss for words as you are now. Your mouth is completely open, your eyes threatening to roll back further, making sounds he’s sure you’ve never heard from yourself before. Have you even had it this fast? This big? This great? He knows it couldn’t be. And he’s the one who gets to show you. His eyes gloss over you with pride at the thought.

He grabs your chin to get you to look at him, “Who’s fucking you this good?”

You moan. You weren’t used to this. Your eyes roll back completely as he pounds into you with eye contact.

It makes him groan loudly, his jerks into you, letting out his own moan from the sight. “Oh fuck, baby. Don’t play with me.”

You give in, force yourself to speak, you can’t let this end. “You, Negan!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes!” It’s so hard to speak, it comes out so pathetically.

“Who's making you feel like no one else?”

“You, Negan, it’s you!” Your moan turns into a pant, “It’s you, only you.”

He comes closer, his nose touches yours. His movements slow, but they don’t stop. He’s rocking into you now. “Only me?”

You don’t even think, “Who else? It's only you.”

His teeth sparkle, “Only me.”

“Only you, daddy.”

He laughs cockily, “So Daddy’s making you feel this good?”

“Yes, daddy. So good.”

You feel the groan he makes travel right to your clit, making it throb.

He kisses you, the corners of your lips to your cheek and neck and collarbones and back up again.

He restarts his pumping into you but his head remains close to yours. You decide to wrap one of your arms around his neck, pulling his hair, and the other hand travels down his back, holding him close.

Negan breathes you in, his head near the crux of your neck, hearing every little sweet sound you make that he’s never heard before. It all drives him wild, but then his eyes open. A question comes out that surprises you both: “Am I ruining your life right now?” He quietly asks.

“That doesn’t matter,” you say, breathing heavily from his touches, your eyes are still closed.

“I think it does.”

“You make me feel like no one ever has…” The bliss you feel from his current soft strokes and touches making it hard to speak, your voice is so light. “At least I got to experience it.” You open your eyes now, fingers tracing the cross drawn into his arm, “At least I got to see the real you.”

Your eyes say more than your words do. There’s a yearning and a sadness, an answer to what feels right in this moment, but an insight that there are doubts that could creep up later the more that you think about it.

“Just keep going,” you tell him, “I want to see you.”

You want to see him, you do see him. His head connects with yours again, and you moan into each other's mouths as he keeps pumping. Your legs come up to his hips and you’re not afraid to be loud anymore, to tell him how good it feels, how much you like him.

He takes your hands and places them over your head, crossing his fingers with your. It’s so pure, so lovely even when he’s going so hard down below. You hear your breaths heavy and your bodies slapping and the bed shaking.

You think about his skin, and his scratchy beard against yours, and the way you hate how he can make you smile by making the most ridiculous and raunchy jokes, and the way you love his voice, the way you can’t help but to like the way he cares for you.

“Negan,” you say weakly.

“Yes,” he responds intently.

“I’m gonna come,” you tell him. “I think I can.”

“Come for me,” he encourages, moving one of his hands down to rub your clit. “C’mon.”

“I’m gonna come,” you repeat, edging yourself on. Bucking up at his thrusts and his fingers.

“You can do it. Be a good girl. Do it for me.”

You swear the fireplace blazes louder and bigger, lighting up the whole room as you yell out, moaning once more as you orgasm.

Negan finally breaths out after, holding in for so long, and comes after you. His hands place themselves flat on the bed and he pushes in fast, riding out the high.

He scoops you up immediately, holding you in his arms. He doesn’t want to let go.

You two stay there for a moment until you look up. His hand caresses your face, “What is it?”

“I…” you were embarrassed to admit that you weren’t ready for it to all be over yet. “Can I ride you?”

A wiley smile appears on his face. He has to admit, he’s a little shocked you’re ready to go again, but he’d never turn it down. “Well, of course you can, babygirl.”

He flips you over, completely ready, but instantly, you become hesitant, almost overwhelmed. He was the world, not you, yet you were now above him. All the allowance to touch him anywhere you want at your disposal.

He puts his hands under his head, arms flexing. An ever wide smile present as he waits for you to begin. “You asked for it. Don’t get shy on me now.”

Your eyes grow excited again, deciding not to hold back, and you start to rock against him. You place you hands on his chest, feeling him up, touching his biceps, hands going over his tattoos— you could stare at them, at him, for hours. You honestly think you’d lick his whole body if he’d let you. And of course he probably would. To feel big and proud and irresistible while you look like a little desperate freak? You wouldn’t even have to ask him twice. Thinking about it and about how full his cock is making you feel, stretching and reaching all the right places, makes you moan and whine. You bucked your hips wildly, humming and giving him “mmms” because of how yummy it feels. You could do this forever.

“Ah- uh- Negan,” you moan and your stomach caves as you whine again and you hurl forward, continuing to rock but your pace is faltering. It’s becoming too hard and Negan can tell so he takes you by the hips, helping you move. First continuing to let your grind and then pushing you up and down his shaft so you can bounce on him. You push yourself up again, hand on his chest, pushing against it and you bounce along with his help. This was fun. You try to go faster and faster. It felt like being a kid on a playground.

“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Look at who you’re fucking, sweetheart.”

So you do, and moan at the sight of him, “Ohmygod,” you say. “You’re so handsome, Negan.”

He's so proud of you. Enjoying your actions, enjoying your noises. He groans as he sees your breast bounce and it makes you squeeze against him.

“Good girl,” he coos, “finally listening when you’re spoken to, about to make yourself come on daddy’s cock again.”

He starts to rub your clit again and you continue to bounce. It almost hurts because of how overstimulated you’ve become but you don’t tell him to stop. Your hands come to reach the headboard, helping you bounce harder. He tells you again how much of a good girl you are, how he loves that you’re not stopping, then he tells you how dirty and desperate you are for wanting him again after he already made you come. But he’s obsessed. This is all he’s ever wanted since the day he brought you here. His hands trail up from your hips to your waist and breast and back down again. There is nothing more he wants than to fuck you or for you fuck him.

You look down. You both notice your necklace still wrapped around your neck, almost nearing between your breasts, bouncing along with all of you. It reminds you of why you're here, why he gave it to you. It makes you have the realization he had… Was he ruining your life? Were you ruining your own? But how could you be when it all feels this good? It was completely screwed up, but everything felt so magnificently brilliant. His touch is everything, his voice is everything, his body is everything. It makes your hips stutter, it makes you moan, and at last, it makes you come again. You ride your high, going and going and going until you fall into his chest. His hands come to hold you tight thereafter.

Unthinkable bliss is all that is felt for a long moment… then… your head turns to the window. You remember what is out there and what isn’t in here.

A tear falls down your cheek and he realizes what’s happening when it falls onto his shoulder.

It hurts him now. To see you cry. It’s not fun anymore. You feel it, yes. You see what he saw, it’s true. But you aren’t really his wife. You’re nothing that is his at all. You both know that as well.

It takes you a long time to speak, you have to force yourself, but you do. “You have to let me go now.” You say it sternly but there is a sadness to it; a small part of you wants to not mean it even though you completely do, even though you do wish to stay here, to be enveloped by his embrace— you simply cannot forget.

“Mm,” he shakes his head, remaining leveled, “you know too much.”

“I barely know anything,” you say. “And not that anything I do know matters. Knowing the way around the Sanctuary isn’t going to help anyone when I know there is no way we could actually get in…. And what’s more important anyway is that I’m not changing my mind and you’re not either.”

“I’m not.”

“And I can’t. I wouldn’t. And they’re not going to. Never…. And if some of them die…” A whimper almost leaves you but you manage to swallow it, “I have to be by their side, Negan. I can’t only hear about it. I… I can’t see it next to you.”

His lips are pressed firm, his jaw is fixed and tight, almost like he’s grinding down on his teeth. The breath he takes through his nose could be a heavy sigh if he opened his mouth, but he doesn’t. He keeps it all in.

You words and their weight hang in the air for a moment before he finally speaks: “One of my guys that watches the armory doors has a shift that ends at 6:00 am… but at 5:50 I’m going to come up to him and tell him he gets off 10 minutes early that day, that I’ll wait for the next person to come.” He lets his words hang in the air for a moment, your confusion spirals before he keeps going. “It’ll be fucking weird, but he’ll look dumb as shit if he questions me, so he won’t. Then when he’s out of sight, I’ll leave. The next person is coming right at 6. That’s all you get. 10 minutes. A little less really.”

Your eyes round slowly as the stun continues to sink in. He’s… letting you leave.

“You take one gun and one knife. Just one. Don’t make it noticeable. I’m going to check. Then you go out of the back door that’s inside.” He didn’t have to tell you the way. “It should be easy, I know you’ve tried it before.”

You look down, taking in all he says, but then he turns you face to meet his, “If anyone sees you, I’m gonna have to make a show of it when they bring you back. Not what I want. But if I get there before you get out, maybe 5:58, just cause I’m an asshole, just to see you one last time… And if I do, I’m gonna turn you around and you’re stayin’. Fair?”

You nod. It’s small and light. You don’t question any of it, you can’t. “8 minutes.” You respond.

“8 minutes.��� His voice is neutral, but underneath there was a tinge of solemnity to it. “8 minutes,” he says under his breath.

“What about now?”

“Now?” He asks. He didn’t think about it. He assumed you would want to go after this, after you got what you wanted. “Well,” he turns to his nightstand, “right now it’s nearing midnight.” He stares at you for a moment, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. This whole moment has felt so quiet, both eerie and gentle. You still weren’t used to the latter from him, even after what just happened. “You can go if you want. Sleep in your bed for one more night, or…” he stops, “You can stay with me, if you’d like.” His sigh is short and whispered but you both hear it, you feel its weight. “It’s your choice.”

You stare at each other for a moment. Your eyes trail all of his face and the arm that is still holding your own, adorned with all the tattoos and skin you had just fallen for. You wanted to study them and hold onto him forever. And his eyes: they said so much— there were so many little inflections, ones that you had finally read, and so many others you’ve yet to decipher. You desired to know him, but you had to go, so all you decided to do was to hold him. For now, you chose to stay, and hoped that your embrace would transfer the fact that the only reason it would be hard to leave is because of him and only him. You would remember this forever.

“8 hours till 8.”

“8 hours till 8, kid.”

You close your eyes tight and nuzzle into his chest, A peace you had never known in the Sanctuary finally subsumed you. You feel free to finally tell him, “Thank you. I miss home.”

Home. There it is again. There was no malice in the way you said it, but there was still a pang from your melancholy words that made his heart throb. You missed home. And as peaceful as you looked, and as safely as you held onto him, your words reaffirmed that home was not here and it was not with him, no matter how you looked, and no matter the fact that you were allowing him to hold you for the night, to call you his. In the end, you were not.

He had to finally accept it.

“8 hours till 8,” are your last words until you finally drift to sleep. This would be your last and most tranquil night here. To you, it felt right, almost harmonious, albeit sad. This is how it was how it was meant to be. You needed it.

But to him, it’s shattering. He doesn’t repeat the phrase back this time. For once he has nothing to say. The fire glow of the night has now withered into darkness.

You won. He lost.

But both your hearts broke.

[detachedminxsfics]

Motel

Masterlist

Characters: Negan (Dead City) x F!Reader

Summary: You've grown particularly close with the Motor Inn's personal walker killer and decide to pay his motel room a visit.

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: NSFW - Oral (m receiving), vaginal sex, hair pulling, shower sex, praise, dirty talk, negan's usual foul mouth, gentle dom negan

A/N: If you're from my tiktok (which spawned the chaos that motivated me to finish most of this bc you guys are crazy), hello! This is my first time managing to actually finish and upload a oneshot in months, so I apologise in advance. I was also extremely tired when I wrote most of this, but I hope it was worth the wait for the handful of you bombarding my comment sections for the past 24 hours. 😂 I knew what I had to do the moment I saw that shower scene...like damn.

You downed your third shot of the day before slamming it back down onto the counter and wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes idly following the neon lights on the sign hung proudly behind the bar. The Easy Stay Motor Inn. It was a shithole. It only served as a way of keeping four walls and a roof over your head, and walkers off your ass. Speaking of, there was only one guy you'd grown particularly fond of during the month you'd spent working for the lady who owns this place and lapping up the amenities of their accompanying motel, Negan. He wasn't from around here, that much you gathered just by taking one good look at him, but then neither were you. You were both drifters. Heading from one place to the next, never staying anywhere long enough to see it through and find out whether it'd go to shit or hold out long enough before eventually falling to pieces. You just kept moving. That mentality had served you well so far and had kept you alive long enough to say that you'd made it well over a decade into the apocalypse now, not that you had much to show for it.

"Want another?" The guy behind the bar asked, half expecting you to agree to it as you had with all the others and making his way over to the bottle of vodka you'd been chipping away at.

"No thanks", you shook your head with a small smile and slid off the bar stool, "I'm gonna go try to entertain myself someplace else, but don't be surprised if I come back and finish that off later." You gestured to the vodka with a tilt of your head, and the certainty in your tone had the bartender smiling.

You headed towards the backdoor that led to the motel out back, the harsh change of lighting making you squint and shield your eyes to adjust for a moment, the dim vivid hues of the neon-lit windowless bar you'd been sitting in for the past hour or two being snuffed out once you stepped into the natural sunlight. Visual disorientation aside, you made your way down the row of motel rooms lined at your side, your interest only lying with the idea of arriving at one motel room in particular, and you stopped in front of the door when you found it. The door was a stark black to match the wooden panels sitting on either side of the window not too far from the right of the door, vines having wrapped around some of the slats in the wood from the overgrowth of shrubbery on the floor beneath it. It was run down and uncared for like just about anywhere else in this world. You tested the handle to see if the door was unlocked and to your surprise, it was. Twisting it fully you pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind you as you began to observe the interior of the room. It was generically decorated like just about any other room in this place, and he didn't seem to have left anything behind for you to snoop through. The room was so empty that if you didn’t know any better you might have thought that he'd moved on already, packed up all his shit and hit the road. You figured that this was on purpose and probably explained why he didn't care too much when it came to keeping the door locked since he didn't have any shit to steal. Smart.

Negan hadn't been around for too long now, in fact, he'd only arrived about a week after you, but he left a lasting first impression. He was useful. He pulled his weight by taking care of any of the walkers that roamed or wandered into the perimeter of the motor inn, and was never bad company on the occasions that he'd sat on the bar stool next to you and made conversation. As time went on you'd gotten closer and more comfortable with one another, and you quickly found yourself noticing that Negan was the one person you'd opened up to the most in the duration of your entire stay here, better yet felt the most comfortable doing so with. Your vulnerability wasn't one-sided, either. He never went into an awful load of detail, but he had a bad past. He wasn't on the run per se, but there was a group of people that he was hoping to avoid the possibility of encountering for the rest of his days, a community that he had a difficult history with. He alluded to what seemed to mostly amount to horrible shit that most people had done by now just to stay alive, the kind of things you see at night when you close your eyes, haunting you from the backs of your eyelids. You paid it no mind, and you told him that too; he seemed to appreciate your lack of judgement. Gradually, the conversations grew more personal and not so casual, things got flirty. It was subtle, but Negan would make small coy comments on things that you say, or little compliments now and again that toed the line a tad too much for what could be considered harmless flattery or him shooting his shot. You were able to keep yourself humble up until the night when he had jokingly mentioned how good your ass looked in your jeans after more than a few drinks, not that he needed it to let you know just how much he was checking you out. Your thoughts were interrupted by the twist of the doorknob and the sight of it being pushed open afterwards, revealing a rather sluggish and slightly dishevelled-looking Negan. Negan had a silver beard that he seemed to keep well-maintained, the hair decorating his top lip thicker than the rest. His dark hair was always slicked, though it seemed to have transitioned to more of an ashy brown over time with grey tinging at the sides of his hair. He was ruggedly handsome, that was for sure. A grin crept onto his lips when he noticed you standing by one of the beds, closing the door behind him and running his hand through his hair, slicking some of the strands that had fallen out of place in the process.

"Just letting yourself into my place now, huh? We graduating from drinking buddies to whatever the hell this is?" He quipped but was amused by how bold you were to just waltz on into his motel room.

"It's not like you don't want me here." You remarked with a knowing smile as you sat on the end of one of the double beds, to which Negan chuckled and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, a seemingly small mannerism of his that always drove you wild.

"Touché."

He sauntered to the bed next to you until he stood at the foot of it and started to shrug off his leather jacket with a sigh.

"Well whatever it is honey, it's gonna have to wait. I have been out there cracking rotting skulls for who knows how long, and now I need a damn shower."

The checkered flannel shirt he'd been wearing open underneath it was next, him tossing it on the bed in front of him before his fingers brush over the hem of his black tank top. He glanced at you with the material still pinched between his fingertips, a cocky smile creeping onto his lips as he noticed the way you were shamelessly staring at him and didn't seem to plan on stopping anytime soon.

"You gonna watch me strip now too, darlin'?"

You playfully shrugged and let your eyes wander down his torso, an eye movement Negan most certainly followed judging by the way his smile grew, as did his ego.

"I can turn around if you're too shy, Negan."

The throaty chuckle he let loose was almost immediate, his eyebrows raised as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Me, shy? Fuck no. You can stare your little heart out, and you would most definitely be staring."

Well, you certainly hadn't expected him to take it with such pride, so you caved and turned so you were facing the wall next to the bed. You could hear the sounds of clothes falling against the sheets and the clinking of metal as he undid his belt, and then the zipper on his leather pants.

"You still thinking of sticking it out here for a bit longer? I know last time we spoke you weren't so sure." Negan muttered as he got his pants down to his ankles and started to try to shake his ankles out of them.

You thought for a moment, then sighed a little.

"I think so? I don't know, I'm just trying to go day by day. Why, would you miss me?" Your tone picked up towards the end as did the enthusiasm in your voice, the suggestion making Negan's sudden laughter start in the form of a snort.

"Miss you? Shit, course I would. I'd probably move on from here after that."

You opened your mouth to speak but found yourself unable to form the right words. He made it sound like you were the only reason he was still staying here, and that without you there'd just be no point. You didn't ask him to elaborate though, just silently rolled the thought around in your head.

"Well, time to take that shower. I'll be right back, and I don't know maybe we can grab a drink or some shit afterwards?"

"Sure." You mumbled in response.

After that all you heard was the soft tread of his footsteps as he made his way past you and into the bathroom, then the sound of the water being turned on and beginning to crash against the floor of the shower for a few moments before it became more muffled with Negan's body interrupting the stream, and you turned back to face something other than the blank yellow wall you'd be staring at whilst he was stripping. You did your best to focus on the small details of the room to occupy your head, the peculiar framed pictures decorating some of the walls, and the hideous design choices when it came to the taste of the room, but it was no use. All you could think about was what Negan had looked like underneath all those clothes when he was a mere few feet behind you, and what he looked like right now standing in the shower in the very next room, the image of water droplets trailing down his torso and body making it harder to stay seated with every passing second until you just couldn't take it anymore. You stood to your feet and made your way to the bathroom, standing in the doorway for a moment as you stopped in your tracks. The shower had a sliding door that Negan had slid shut, the distortion of the glass still allowing you to be able to make out the sight of him with his head tilted town and one of his palms pressed up against the wall, and the tattoo decorating his shoulder blade. There was no turning back now, you had made up your mind. You approached the glass and gave it a soft knock, the sound startling Negan a little as he turned and slid the glass just enough for him to lean into the gap he'd made.

"Everything okay?" He asked, concern tinging his voice as he used his other hand to sweep some of the hair that had fallen into his face back in place.

Your only response was the sight of your fingertips grasping the hem of your top before you pulled it over your head, holding the top in your hands for a moment as you gazed at him, trying to gauge Negan's reaction to your now exposed breasts. He seemed taken aback for a moment or two, and then his eyes darkened with lust.

"Can I join you?" You asked, fingers teasingly dancing along the waistband of your jeans as though you could tell by just the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to deny your offer.

He didn't.

"Fuck yeah you can." He rasped with a shit-eating grin, leaning back and pushing the sliding glass all the way open to make room for you to join him.

You stripped until there was nothing left, discarding all of your clothes into a pile on the tiled bathroom floor and stepping into the shower with him. The first thing you noticed was the heat. The steam from the hot water, the heat coming from Negan's body, all of it swarming your body with warmth. Then, him. All of him. From the water droplets falling from the scruff of his beard, the dark hair decorating his chest and trailing down the centre of his torso, and even the skull tattoo inked on the right side of his chest. The man was gorgeous. Your eyes dragged down his body, drinking in every inch of him until you got to the part you'd been anticipating most, but were interrupted. He cupped the underside of your jaw and urged your head back up, his thumb brushing along your chin as the tip of his thumb traced just along the edge of your bottom lip.

"You like what you're seeing, huh?" He seemed to be making more of a statement than genuinely asking, but you entertained him nonetheless.

"A lot." You replied simply, the intense and lustful look your eyes were lit with corrupting your stare as your eyes bore into his.

"Good."

He used the hold on your jaw to guide your lips to his, his lips claiming yours. The hand that had been cupping your chin moved to grasp the nape of your neck, his other hand gripping your hip and drawing your body against his. You could feel him hard against your thigh as he groaned into the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth so you could taste him and his hands keeping you pressed firmly against his body, your own hands beginning to wander from the top of his chest down to his abdomen. The water cascading down his shoulders caressed along your fingertips and down your breasts, the warm water trailing down your body whilst he continued to move his lips against yours until you couldn't breathe, and you were forced to pull back for air. The moment you did Negan dove his head into the crook of your neck and pressed his lips against your pulse point, gently sucking the skin there and occasionally teasing it between his teeth in a way that was sure to leave marks, his beard scratching along your jaw as he did. The attention he paid your neck had your hand rushing up the nape of his neck and into his hair, combing your fingers through the back before taking a fistful of his wet strands. The slight tension on his scalp and the way your breath was shaking right by his ear made him pause for a moment to smile against your skin, a hoarse chuckle following shortly thereafter. The warmth of his breath from the laugh felt hot on your skin, and you used the strands of hair you'd taken in your palm to urge his head back until his face was inches from yours again. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip when you found your voice.

"You've thought about this before haven't you, fucking me?"

His brows raised at your boldness, the corners of his mouth fighting a smile.

"Damn right I have. I'd have to be blind or crazy not to, you are easy on the eyes, darlin'."

"Oh?" You tilted your head as you feigned mock surprise, his eyes looking you over like you were good enough to eat, and you might just let him.

Slowly you leaned in and seductively ran your tongue over his lips, finishing with a small kittenish flick at his top lip before leaning back. You soaked up the wanton look in his gaze when you sank to your knees, your eyes locked with his all the while. Now kneeling on the floor of the shower you reached up and closed your hand around his shaft, the way his breath caught in his throat once he felt your touch giving you the encouragement you needed to lean in and run your tongue over the swollen tip, beads of precum gathering along your tongue as you did. As you licked at it you felt Negan's fingers stroke over your hair before he started to gather it in his hand, all of your hair soon clutched into his fist like a makeshift ponytail.

"Don't be a tease." He warned as he slid his free hand underneath your chin and cupped it, allowing him to use both the grip on your hair and your jaw to urge you forward.

Willingly your lips parted, his cock sliding past your lips and into your mouth.

"Fuuuck, there we go." Negan slurred as he slid further into your mouth, stopping just before he reached your throat.

He grunted once you flattened your tongue on the underside of his shaft and leant forward, bracing one of his hands against the tiled wall of the shower when he lowered his head to look at you.

"Shit, you look so good with a mouthful of cock." He rasped crudely with the dirtiest smile before pushing himself down your throat, and you fought the urge to gag as he did.

He started to move his hips, the motion prompting you to place your hands just above his knees for support whilst he slid in and out of your throat. Soon enough tears began to well in your eyes, the urge to choke too great as you finally gagged on him, the sensation making Negan momentarily screw his eyes shut before sliding out of your mouth. He let you breathe for a moment or two before he was already pushing down your throat again, his groans getting louder and deeper with every thrust.

"Ohh, good girl." He cooed, his sounds of pleasure gradually turning into a blatant string of curses as he repeatedly thrust down your throat, and you shamelessly took every single inch.

Eventually, the movement of his hips got slower, his moans getting louder until finally his hips stuttered and his abdomen began to tense. He tightened his grip on your hair, the harsh grasp burning your scalp, and then you felt the hot wet spurts of warm liquid coating your tongue. You waited until you knew he'd spilt every last drop and then carefully removed him and swallowed his release, your breath a little laboured whilst Negan hovered above you with totally ragged, uneven breath, his eyes half-lidded as he tried to come down from the high of his orgasm. A few tears had escaped your waterline and slid down your cheeks as he fucked your throat, but it had mixed with the occasional stream of water trickling down your face from the shower.

"You did so good, baby. So good." He praised as he finally released your hair from his hand and started gently running his fingers through it instead, his touch soothing some of the pain he'd inflicted upon your scalp.

You stayed like that for a moment just listening to the sound of the water until you felt his hand leave your hair and the sight of him extending it out in front of you for you to take, which you did. He helped you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist the second you straightened your back, his mouth crashing against yours and allowing him to taste himself on your lips, the urgency with which he kissed you making you moan into the kiss a little. Whilst he stole your air Negan guided you backwards until your back came to press against the steamy tiled wall, the condensation pooling on the tiles smearing against your skin, and the faint coolness to it making you gasp. You wrapped your arms around Negan's neck to draw him in closer, your hips subconsciously moving to bring your groin against his and allowing his still proudly hard cock to brush against your inner thigh. You broke the kiss to try to regulate your unsteady breathing, leaning back just enough so that your lips were practically still brushing, the hot heavy pants Negan breathed against your lips making you need him all the more.

"Negan?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you inside me."

He couldn't hold back the dangerous look his eyes filled with when you whispered exactly what you needed, an arrogant look in his eye as he leaned back and cockily smiled.

"Your wish is my command, sweetheart. C'mere."

He slid his hands all the way up the backs of your thighs, towards your outer thigh, and then took hold of your hips. The gesture prompted you to do a small jump that allowed Negan to hoist you up and trap you between the wall and his body, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands moved to cup your ass. In one calculated movement Negan lined himself up and sank inside you, the way you stretched around him eliciting a filthy moan from your lips almost immediately.

"That feel good, baby?" He purred, his voice full of arrogance.

He knew it did, he just wanted to hear you say it.

"Yes, god yes." Was all you could manage as he set a hard and intense pace, drawing all the way out before slamming back inside you, the feeling of fullness with every thrust making your mouth fall open.

One of your hands slid down his chest, his dark chest hair brushing up against your fingers as you did, whilst the other slid up his shoulder and moved to rest on the nape of his neck. His fingers were digging into your skin with the grip he had on you, strands of your hair clinging to the condensation of the tiled walls as you slightly threw your head back, uncontrollable sounds of pleasure spilling from your lips from the way he roughly fucked into you. The overwhelming sensation caused you to idly weave your fingertips in the hair at the top of his neck and run your hands through the back of his hair, occasionally tugging at it when he buried himself especially deep and you could do nothing but squirm in his grip. The water was still running just off to Negan's side, the hot water wasting onto the floor and creating a small pool at his feet. With the way you'd angled your body it allowed him to lean in and lick a stripe up the valley between your breasts, your skin feverishly hot against his tongue as he gathered some of the water droplets and left nothing but a trail of spit before beginning to kiss up your throat. He littered your neck with kisses, moving his affections to the side of your neck before planting a few kisses along your jaw, his stubble scratching along the side of your face all the while. It felt like heaven. You couldn't think about anything other than his touch, the way his mouth shamelessly marked your skin, the sounds of his heavy breath and the guttural groans spilling from his throat like music to your ears. By this point your sweet moans grew to resemble sobs, your legs slightly shaking in his hold as Negan thrust into you over and over, and a feeling started to burn in the pit of your stomach unlike anything you had ever felt before.

"Negan." was all you managed to choke out, practically in the form of a cry.

All you felt was his lips claiming yours, and the occasional parting of your lips just enough for him to whisper into the kisses.

"I got you, I got you, baby." He swore over and over, his gentle reassurance paired with his hard thrusts tipping you completely over the edge, and your whimpers getting lost in his heated kisses.

You feel the knotting in your abdomen just before everything comes crashing over you, waves of pleasure ripping through your body and making you clench around him as Negan continues to fuck you throughout your high, your mind hazed with overstimulation. Eventually his movements began to stutter, his abdomen clenching amidst the deep v-lines framing his hips, and a string of gravelly curses poured from his mouth. Carefully, Negan unwrapped one of your legs from his waist and urged you to set it down on the floor of the shower, the other still wrapped around his hips as he held it there. His free hand moved down to his shaft, wrapping his hand around it and giving it a few quick strokes until he finally came. His hold on your leg became more of a firm squeeze as he threw his head back a little and grunted, liquid splashing over the top of your inner thigh and beginning to gradually trickle down your leg. The bathroom was full of steam now, the air thick with humidity and both of your chests rising and falling rapidly as you both tried to catch your breath. After a few moments you felt Negan place your other leg down, his release still dribbling down your skin as you tried to come down from your incalculable high. His breath evened out a little, his eyes still half-lidded when his hazel eyes locked with yours, his gaze capturing you amidst the knowing grin playing on his lips. You were totally fucked out, and the sight made him chuckle.

"That good, huh?" He teased with raised brows, his tongue dragging over his bottom lip making you playfully roll your eyes and manage a small laugh.

"Shut up."

You'd give credit where credit is due, the man knew what he was doing, but you couldn't allow yourself to stroke his almost nauseating large ego any further. He shook his head with a smile, both of his hands smoothing over your waist and then taking hold of it, using it to lead you towards him. You let him coax you to the space closer to the shower head, the water now splashing directly against the back of his neck and trailing down his body, droplets of water simultaneously forming along Negan's jawline and repeatedly falling from his wet beard. He kept one hand on your waist whilst the other held one side of your face, his eyes boring into yours. His head tipped forward so he could rest his forehead against yours, water sliding down his neck when he started to speak in almost a whisper at first.

"If I hit the road, I want you to come with me."

You thought you may have not heard him right at first and leant back with slightly wide eyes, shock etched into your features.

"Really?" You muttered.

"Yeah."

A moment of silence passed, the stare you shared serving as more of an answer than any words you could utter, but you parted your lips to speak and did anyhow.

"You've got yourself a deal."

[loves4yukio]

Unspoken Desires

Negan x F!Reader

Summary : You consistently rejected Negan's romantic advances because you didn't wish to become another one of his conquests. You avoid him as much as you could, but things became more intricate when he revealed his sole interest in you and no one else.

Warnings (18+) : SMUT, age gap (you are in your 20's and Negan is in his mid-late 40's), swearing, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!Negan, secret relationship, no use of y/n, mentions of sex (?) — I'm not sure what to put, so if you have any advice, I'll take it.

Word count : 5k6

You endured what felt like the most draining day of your existence. Your time outdoors alongside Simon, engaging in a lengthy run, exceeded the usual duration, leads you to return later than anticipated to the Sanctuary — where you seek solace in the privacy of your bedroom. Shedding your work attire, you exchanged it for the comfort of shorts and a cozy sweater, an outfit suited for rest. Seated at your desk, you embarked upon the task of drafting the expedition report, as mandated by Negan.

You toil in silence, engrossed in the task, driven by your yearning to assimilate into the community and meet Negan's expectations. When you're at last content with the outcome, you glance up from your desk, eyeing the time displayed on the clock. 'It's getting late, I need a break,' you muse. The alluring temptation of watching a movie, an idea often suggested by Negan, tempted you irresistibly.

As a recent addition to the Saviors, you had caught Negan's profound interest, the reasons for which remained a mystery to you. On numerous occasions, you found his intense gaze fixed upon you, his signature smile accompanying his playful, suggestive banter. The effect it had on you was undeniable, stirring an internal storm you couldn't easily dismiss.

Occasionally, you yielded to his allure, but it always left you in self-reproach, retreating into seclusion and creating distance. Negan always persisted, unwilling to swiftly relinquish his grasp on you. He was resolute, refusing to let you go to another.

Negan was known for his ladies' man side. He already had six wives by his side. Negan being Negan, he had proposed you become one of them, but you persistently declined, knowing it wouldn’t bring you joy. Yet, here you found yourself, part of his inner circle and laboring under his directives. This didn't deter him from the amusement of seducing you, sending your senses spinning — a pleasure he relished, especially the moments when you'd bite your lip each time he whispered something dirty in your ear.

Satisfied with the task's completion, you left your chambers, strolling silently through the corridor of the floor designated for Negan and his wives. You had the liberty to wander there at will, given your residence on that floor — Negan had made it clear that the floor was as much your abode as his and his wives'.

As you lingered in the room's alcove, the soft hum of the television reached your ears. Despite the dimness, the silhouettes on the couch were distinguishable. For a fleeting moment, you observed Negan and a few of his wives holding each other tenderly, their forms intertwined in a embrace.

This simple yet profound sight stirred a tumult of emotions within you. While relieved not to be entangled in Negan's romantic affairs, you couldn't stifle the growing pangs of jealousy. Negan embodied the epitome of your ideal man : handsome, funny, sociable and seemingly damn good at sex. Some nights, the sounds of their cries of pleasures echoed through the corridors upstairs, teasing a tale of their intimate rendezvous.

With the utmost care, you glided across the floor, your steps hushed to avoid disrupting their tranquility. Neither of them caught a glimpse of your passing silhouette ; such was your stealth. Arriving in the kitchen, you prepared a light snack, allowing the gentle whir of the refrigerator to fill the space.

Within the serene hush of the living room, where the dimmed lights cast the room in a veil of darkness, an aged cowboy movie flickered on the screen. Negan slumped on the generous couch, a soft sigh escaping him as Frankie sought solace against his shoulder. A fleeting moment of quiet ensued until one of them decided to shatter the silence.

“Has she returned from work ?” Sherry inquired on your behalf, arching an eyebrow, her attention diverted from the movie flickering on the television.

Shifting his gaze toward her, Negan emitted a noncommittal sound, almost an 'I dunno,' just before ensnaring her in a kiss filled with such fervor that it deterred her from pursuing the topic. Using it as a diversion, he let his hand slide down her back, the touch lingering on the black fabric of her dress, seeking more intimate contact.

“I'll be back, I'll fetch us some snacks. I'm feeling a bit peckish,” Amber murmured, beginning to withdraw from the group. However, Negan's hand swiftly seized her thigh, wordlessly commanding her to remain where she was.

“You're not fucking going anywhere, darling. I've got this covered, ladies,” Negan declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With a final surreptitious kiss, seizing Frankie's jaw for a change, he rose to make his way towards the kitchen, where he finds you. Unnoticed by you, he seized the chance to gaze at you, slyly running his tongue over his lips.

Deep in thought, you positioned the containers on the kitchen counter. When you eventually faced him, you briefly glanced away, continuing your preparations ; as if focusing on the task could banish the persistent memories clouding your mind. Negan picked up on your deliberate actions, earning one of his trademark, smug smiles.

“How long have you been here, sweetheart ?” His question sliced through the air, his tone betraying no notice of the tension that crept into your body upon hearing his voice.

“Not too long. I just came down,” you responded, daring to meet his gaze once more.

Observing him move around the central cabinet, selecting a variety of nuts to fill a small dish, he paused in his desire to approach the refrigerator, positioning himself behind you. He pressed your form gently against the counter, allowing his weight to meld with yours. His warm breath danced across the curve of your neck as his lips drew close to your ear.

“Aren't you joining us ?” he inquired, planting tender kisses against your soft skin, echoing a familiarity from moments when you were alone.

Your gaze remained evasive, yet inwardly, you pondered the wisdom of joining them in the living room. The situation was already taut with tension, and you hesitated to further complicate matters. On one hand, the desire to spend time with them lingered, but on the other, an apprehension loomed — an uncertainty of what might unfold, beyond your control.

“I'm not sure that's wise, Negan,” you murmured softly, breathlessly.

“Smart enough to handle it, darlin',” Negan replied with a sly smirk, dismissing your concern.

He remained silent, his hazel eyes fixed upon you in quiet contemplation. Your body tingled under his fleeting touch, heightening the feverish sensation as he grazed against you. Carefully tearing open a bag of chips, you delicately poured a portion into a bowl, then turned to present it to him.

“Here. I wouldn't want you to miss the movie because of me,” you said, offering an innocent smile.

The warmth and tenderness of your presence felt soothing, as though it seamlessly melded with his, an indelible union. With each step, he sought to intoxicate himself within this fleeting moment, wishing it could linger a little longer. Ceasing the intimate connection by turning towards him brought a sense of discomfort to Negan, especially when he was reveling in the closeness.

His hands mirrored your actions as you turned to face him, his countenance etched with seriousness, his unwavering gaze fixed upon you. Lifting the bowl of chips you'd prepared, he wordlessly returned it to the counter, observing you as if something unusual was unfolding. His scrutiny delved deep, as though attempting to decipher the depths of your soul.

“Then go to your room,” his words sliced the air, unexpectedly severe, nearly cutting.

His stare posed a challenge, urging you to venture beyond the ordinary. It was no longer just about the movie, and you were acutely aware of this shift. He was testing you.

Your brow arched in response to his intense scrutiny, granting him permission to draw nearer. You felt defenseless, adrift, and utterly powerless. His husky voice only added to your sense of unease. It was absurd how effortlessly you seemed to be losing your self-possession, akin to a fragile leaf that could be easily crumpled in his grasp. The very notion made your heart race within your chest.

Enveloped by the weight of his penetrating gaze, you hesitated to even reach out to touch him. You found yourself silently studying him, attempting to decipher the cryptic undertone of his words. Tilting your head ever so slightly, you cast a swift, cautious glance around, ensuring no prying eyes were upon you, before returning your focus to him.

He stood before you, a commanding presence, his unwavering, intense gaze fixed upon you. Was it even your place to be standing alongside them ? You blinked, releasing a breath as you succumbed to the overwhelming closeness. It might have appeared peculiar, perhaps even self-centered, but you would have preferred if his wives were absent. It could have been the attraction you felt toward Negan… or for some undisclosed reason.

“Must I, really ?” you blurted in a voice barely louder than a whisper, surrendering to the game. “Seems to me like you're eager for my company. Don't you ?”

“Oh, you think so, huh ? You don't have a damn clue about the game you're playing, sweetheart.”

His lips, once momentarily dry, became moistened by a subtle lick, accentuating his wolfish grin. Your hips were gently pressed against the counter's edge, his eyes traversing your form, observing your casual attire. Despite the room's darkness, his gaze fixated upon you, brimming with unwavering attention.

Within moments, you leaned against the nearby furniture, settling there while maintaining an unbroken gaze with him. Negan briefly scanned the kitchen's entrance before redirecting his focus back to you. Ensnared under his intense scrutiny, you found yourself entranced, incapable of averting your eyes from the fervor of his. Each step he took toward you sent shivers down your spine, accelerating the rhythm of your heart. Your breaths grew shallower, the atmosphere thick with an electric charge.

“Don't start something that you can't finish,” he moved a step nearer.

“Who said I couldn't see it through ?” you retorted mischievously.

Negan moved with a predator's intent, every step bringing him closer to you until he stood mere inches away. In that suspended moment, it felt as though time had halted, the world vanishing to leave only the confined space that separated the two of you. The passing seconds dragged by, laden with anticipation, until he loomed over you, finally capturing your face in a firm yet gentle hold, drawing it close to his. His intense gaze traced every curve of your eyes and lips, as if they beckoned to him.

As his fingers secured your face, a soft moan escaped your lips, lost amidst the hollow of his kiss. The ensuing embrace was fervent, ablaze with passion, and you responded with the entirety of the longing you held for him. However, Negan aimed to tantalize you, so he permitted the kiss to endure for just a few moments, kindling a flame within you and intensifying your longing for more. Releasing a frustrated sigh, you felt an intense longing — an unquenched fire that left you parched.

“Now there's a spot on the couch waiting for your pretty ass,” he remarked, letting you go. With a bottle of liquor and the two snack bowls in hand, he strode away, leaving you behind.

Returning to the living room, the movie played on, and he seamlessly carried on watching it, feigning normalcy by exchanging a kiss with one of his wives. It was disquieting to witness the charade of his role as the perfect husband with them, all the while engaging in infidelity with you.

“Screw me…” you muttered under your breath before exiting the room, carrying your tray toward the living area.

Sherry arched a curious eyebrow upon witnessing you arrange the appetizers on the coffee table, casually taking a few pistachios as she passed by. Unaware of your true intent, she observed you taking a seat on the sofa — pretending to concentrate fully on the movie playing on the television. It was then that she realized you intended to join them in watching the film.

With a glass of whiskey in hand, Negan slipped off his shoes and stretched out along the couch, observing your approach without quite meeting your gaze. Amber perched at the edge of the sofa, indulging in the snacks from the bowls.

Leaning behind Amber — careful not to touch her, Negan reached out with his leather-clad hand toward you. His fingers delicately slipped under your sweater, making direct contact with your skin, absentmindedly caressing it without averting his eyes from the television. You attempted to divert your attention to the screen, as though nothing had transpired. Nevertheless, your body responded intensely to his tender caresses, the sensation mingling with the remnants of his previous kiss, drawing you closer, yearning for more contact.

With every delicate rise of his fingers, it was as if you were engulfed in an irresistible yet tormenting inferno. Despite the turmoil within, an appearance of composure had to be maintained, a guise of indifference. His actions appeared effortless, his focus fixed on the screen, while his touch crept higher and higher, only to smoothly readjust as Amber settled in between you on the couch. He cleared his throat, flashing his characteristic shit-eating grin.

The movie merely served as a facade, concealing the true currents swirling in the room. The tension became almost suffocating, an unspoken magnetism pulling at your souls, yet no one acknowledged the brewing tempest, recklessly dancing with fire. The intensity between you both had swelled to an almost tangible thickness, enough to be sliced through with the sharpest blade. You cast a feverish glance toward Frankie, prompting her to sit upright, sensing the charged atmosphere.

“I think I'm ready for bed,” Frankie whispered a little suddenly.

“Same, I'm getting really sleepy,” Amber added.

“Mhm, I'm heading off too. Try not to stay up too late, guys,” Sherry said as she followed the other two women.

“Sleep tight, ladies,” Negan's parting was sealed with a tender kiss to each of the women, yet his unwavering gaze remained locked with yours. He was aware of your watchful gaze and took the opportunity to playfully tease you.

They dispersed into the solace of their individual chambers, melting into the shadows. While maintaining a facade of attention towards the television, he covertly tracked their movements until he was certain of your seclusion. Then, he turned toward you, a silent entreaty woven into the language of his gaze, beckoning you closer as if the very essence of his being yearned for your nearness.

“Come here,” he murmurs, gesturing with his raised arm to offer you space beside him.

You edged closer to his inviting warmth, shifting on the couch to draw nearer. The instant you nestled against him, his embrace enveloped you. His fingertips ventured down your back, making tender contact with your skin, a delicate dance of caresses. Nestled comfortably against him, your head found a cozy perch upon his shoulder, basking in the tenderness of his touch. His actions lulled you, evoking a melting sensation within.

“What's runnin' through that head of yours, darlin' ?” he murmurs in your direction.

The gentle strokes ceased. His hand settled on the curve of your lower back, doing nothing more but imprinting an imperceptible memory of his tender touch upon your skin. Negan's actions seemed deliberate, as if he sought to ignite a response within you, desiring to witness your own initiative, rather than taking the lead himself. In his ideal scenario, your body would have already be over his, seeking warmth. He harbored vivid images of it, yearning for what he'd envisioned on countless evenings.

“I don't know,” you exhaled, your words barely audible, your gaze unwaveringly locked with his. “About everything, and nothing at all.”

“I'll be damned, sweetheart,” he breathed, his voice a velvety rasp, “Uncertainty can be a wicked thing, can't it ? Everything and yet nothin', all wrapped up in one pretty package.”

The TV volume remained low, affording him the chance to catch any stray sounds. He was vigilant, ever mindful of his wives who, despite retiring to their rooms, could unexpectedly intrude at any instant. Negan wasn't particularly concerned about being caught in a passionate liaison with a woman ; if it were solely up to him, he'd fuck you right there on the balcony in front of everyone, demonstrating to all that you belonged to him. But it was more for your sake that he wished to avoid it — he knew you probably wouldn't want to be seen sharing sex with him.

A hush settled in the room as you rose, resting your hand on his chest. Your heart stubbornly refused to slow down while the background movie appeared to have lost its significance. Your gaze fixated on Negan's figure, captivated by the intensity of his dark, engulfing eyes.

“You need to stop giving me that look, Negan,” you stated.

“I can't help it if you bring out that look in me, sweetheart,” he replied, his lips curved in a smirk.

Slowly, your eyes traced his features, observing every detail from his lashes to the salt and pepper shade of his beard. Perching up on your knees, you take a careful glance around the room to make sure there was no one there. Assured of the privacy, you descended slowly, draping a leg over his, finally settling atop him, your breaths growing unsteady.

“You look like you're about to devour me on the spot,” you exhaled, sensing his body tensing beneath you.

“Well, babydoll, can't blame you for feeling a little nervous with ol' Negan here.”

His gaze narrowed, intensifying as curiosity and amusement danced within his eyes. Eager to discover the path of your actions, he deliberately halted even the subtlest of gestures toward you. And his anticipation was met. You placed your hands on each side of his shoulders, the contact of your pelvis against his eliciting a gasp of your mouth.

“Negan, I— Oh, for fuck's sake…” you blurt out, leaning in, nearly pressing against him.

“Seems cat's got someone's tongue, huh,” Negan chuckles, softly grazing your chin with his gloved hand.

Flushed with heat, you gently traced your fingers along his pristine white t-shirt, tucking the edges to sense his warmth against your fingers. Surprisingly, your boldness seemed to gratify him. Without delay, his hands found their way to your thighs, embracing your skin before gliding down to your hips, drawing you nearer. He bent his legs, pulling you close as possible, as if ensnaring you within his desires.

“Mhmm, that's it, keep it up, sweetheart. Just. Like. That.” his raspy voice growled.

The tension between you amplified with the gentle touch of his fingers caressing your skin, accompanied by his satisfied, teasing smile. Swiftly, he seizes your face, drawing you in for a direct and passionate kiss. Your lips eagerly met his, an urgent yearning manifesting as if they had craved this union for an eternity.

Enthralled by the passion conveyed in that kiss, he reasserted his hold on your hips, drawing the weight of your pelvis closer to his in an almost covetous manner. Every inch of your body responded to the fervor. Suppressing his profound yearnings for so long, he yielded, allowing his hands to trail along your curves. A sigh slipped from your lips at the sensation. His touch ventured beneath the fabric of your shorts, grasping your ass firmly. His action was almost too abrupt, considering how controlled it had been until now.

You were no longer the master of your actions, a mere observer of your own surrender. Unable to resist any longer, you yielded to the urge, shedding your suffocating sweater in a desperate attempt to ease the fire consuming your body. It seemed unbelievable that such a scene was unfolding, you that fighting valiantly against the tide of temptation, determined not to succumb.

Your breath mirrored his, swift and erratic, as your hands slipped beneath his t-shirt. Your fingers, curious and explorative, roamed across his skin, entwining in the few hairs as if seeking to uncover every secret of this uncharted territory.

Your lips sought out his cheek, trailing a series of kisses along the contour of his jaw. A soft sigh escaped you at the tantalizing touch of his beard against your lips, and you closed your eyes, imagining the sensation of it grazing between your thighs. The journey of kisses halted upon reaching the hollow of his neck. Gazing up at him, your eyes deepened with a smoldering intensity, betraying the fervent desire coursing through you.

“Doll, staring at me like that makes me as hard as a rock,” Negan teases, a sly grin dancing on his face.

“Oh, hush.”

Your tongue lazely passed over your lips as your sweater cascaded to the wayside. An almost involuntary movement drew your pelvis toward a search for friction, yearning to stoke the burgeoning flame deep within. Negan's hand clasped your jaw, a means of asserting dominance. He seized your lips in an intense kiss as you sought another after removing your sweater — an interlude far too fleeting for his taste to let it end there.

Having severed the kiss, having imbued it with the bittersweet flavor of his longing, he gently drew you back, his hand anchored to your face. In the subdued room, his gaze nearly disclosed a hint of regret for not being able to explore the contour of your chest more intimately. He indulged in the delight of relishing a closer sensation by letting his fingers glide from your neck to the delicate curve of one of your breasts, tenderly caressing it.

"Damn, babydoll, look at you. So damn sexy," Negan rumbled in a husky tone, his words carrying a mix of admiration and appreciation for what he was seeing — what he was feeling.

In the pursuit of evoking a reaction from your body, he persisted in his caress, his index finger accompanied by his middle finger captivating the tip of your mound to make it harden further. Allowing his lips to envelop your flesh button, he began to gently suckle, his hand cupping and kneading your second breast while his other hand glided down your back, drawing you nearer to him, as if such closeness were even possible. Simultaneously, he urged you to continue the friction that your pelvis created against his, while beneath the thick fabric of his gray trousers, his growing member was already palpable.

You sensed your heart pounding against your chest, sending tremors through your entire being. The passion ignited such a fervor, inducing a wetness between your thighs that heightened with each subtle motion against his bulge. As he worked on the first reddened mound, he shifted his attention to the second, prolonging the intimacy without breaking away. His hand, departing from the comforting warmth of your skin, ventured further, becoming more invasive as it found its place between your thighs.

You let out a soft sigh as his hands grazed your fevered skin. In touch with the cloth of your shorts, he effortlessly detected your moisture with a gentle, deliberate press. His smile brushed against your skin, teasing your hardening bud as he intensified the caress of his fingers against your welcoming depths, eliciting you a moan that sent shivers down his spine.

“So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs huskily, his words brushing against your skin.

Each shift of your body against his made you acutely aware of his hardness pressing against your lower abdomen, igniting vivid, consuming thoughts. His words and the sensations from his hands evoked a swarm of butterflies in your chest.

Passionate, moist kisses lingered on your lips, easing your sighs into delicate moans. Struggling to keep your responses in check, aiming not to draw the attention of his wives — who, you prayed, were sound asleep in their chambers, only served to heighten your fevered state. As the kisses deepened, you glanced down to witness the unfolding intimacy between you. The sensation was wet and intoxicating, a feeling you adored, yet it failed to satiate your longing ; you craved more, like an ache that consumed you.

Once more, your hands ventured under his t-shirt, gradually raising it to uncover his tonic abdomen amidst the subdued light of the television. As your hands glided around him, ascending his back to help disrobe him, your hips resumed their movement, driven by the burgeoning passion stirring within you.

You let out a hiss as your thighs quivered around him, feeling the discomfort of your shorts. Using your fingertips, you eventually made it to the edge of his pants, playfully tugging them down intermittently while seeking his approval through eye contact.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Negan exhaled deeply, smirking against your jaw.

He snarled and moved aside your damp underwear. Your desires were explicit, needing no further communication for him to comprehend your needs. He grazed his finger along your sensitive areas, savoring the sounds escaping your lips. Sensing your hands clutching his shoulders, he starts tracing circular motions around your nerve bundle, causing you to writhe on top of him.

“W-Wait,” you managed to say, widening your eyes, a surge of pleasure building as he persisted.

“Shh, let me take care of you. Cum for me,” he responded, prompting your release against his hand. “You're doing so well, sweetheart,” he praised you.

He lapped at your juices greedily on his fingers, revealing in the taste of your arousal. Encircling his arm around your delicate form, he effortlessly maneuvered to switch your positions, laying you on your side. You yielded without protest, sinking into the cushioned comfort of the sofa.

Leaning against the cushions with one arm, he stood tall above you and leaned in for a passionate kiss, his other hand swiftly pulling away the last garment covering your body, exposing you to the open air. Without needing assistance, he tore away your panties and eager to remove his own pants and boxers, freeing himself.

As you shared a kiss, he momentarily paused to collect saliva on his hand, which he used to moisten himself, locking eyes with you intensely. There was no turning back for both of you.

“Negan,” you gasp, a fervent ache consuming you.

“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg me,” he demands.

“Negan, please… I want you so bad,” you murmur in a quivering, warm tone near his ear, your eyes growing heavier as your bodies press together.

Grasping his girth, he glides it along your folds, teasing before exerting pressure to breach your intimacy. A guttural sound escapes his throat as he leans back, relishing the feeling of penetrating you. Despite the discomfort, you tremble, releasing a stifled moan as he tantalizes your wetness with his thumb. Retracting, he positions himself on his knees, guiding his member with a few deliberate movements.

Clasping your thighs firmly, he drew you nearer by lifting your knees towards his chest, seeking better access to your intimacy. His thumb moistened your entrance with your own secretions before he tease you with the head of his cock. He shifted above you, covering your lips with his own to stifle your sounds as he smoothly entered you, his pelvis slamming against yours.

Your chest rose and fell in sync with your racing heartbeat as your fingers gently wandered through the tangle of his dark locks at the back of his head. The tension surrounding you was so consuming that you lost awareness of your surroundings and any potential consequences of your actions.

When you sensed his entrance, your body instinctively arched and stiffened. Your face tensed as you tried to adjust to this new sensation. Gradually, you acclimated to his presence, and in a suggestive move, you raised your hips, wrapping your legs around his waist, signaling your desire for him to continue.

Gripping the sofa, he lifted your face abruptly, stifling a deep groan that resonated in his throat. The way your body arched upon his possession, the tightening of your flesh around him, heightened the rush of blood in his veins. Slowly, he eased into a series of gentle pelvic movements.

It was a captivating sight, leaving you breathless as you finally sensed his motion inside you. A thin film of sweat adorned your skin, and the heat brought a flush to your face, framed by damp strands of hair. Negan couldn't help but marvel at how perfect you looked in that moment — like a goddess who had descended from the heavens just for him.

His movements were restrained, as he aimed to find more space, all the while displaying a sense of self-control. This tenderness was not typical of his character. However, when Negan lifted his gaze to study your expressions and the fervor they revealed, he permitted himself to quicken his pace. Beginning softly and then progressively intensifying, causing your body to shift beneath him. His hand turned to silence your mouth, and his grunts intensified in your ear.

“You feel so good,” he moaned between a few strokes.

The manner in which his pelvis met yours left no room for evasion. This subtle motion that swept you along drove you to the edge, even though it was merely the start. You ultimately found the delight, the one veiled within your unspoken desires, beneath your garments, in the recesses of your intimacy. Each of your cries was subdued, to avoid raising any doubts and the movie, its credits scrolling on the screen, was no longer a cover for you.

“Tell me. Tell me you fucking belong to me, dollface,” he murmured, planting kisses along your collarbone before biting your earlobe, leaning in as he demanded, “Say it.”

“Fuck—,” you muttered, turning your face to meet his gaze.

You found yourself laughing nervously at every motion, electrified by the exquisite sensations that regularly coursed through you. Your legs clung to him while your hands had sought solace on his back. Your body quivered and molded around his larger frame.

“Say it,” he insisted, picking up his speed, surpassing the intensity he'd shown before.

“Yours. Only yours !” you gasped as you sensed him accelerating, feeling your muscles tightening around him.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. All mine,” he snarled, his voice dripping like honey.

A hush enveloped the surroundings, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of flesh meeting and the partially muted expressions of pleasure that conveyed the intense experience shared between you — and the need to stifle the impending cries pulsating within you nearly propelled you over the edge. Consumed by the moment, you disregarded any concerns about potential listeners, focusing solely on the overwhelming sensation that enveloped you.

A knot formed within you as a distant door creaked open, signifying the departure of one of Negan's wives from her room. The mere idea prompted you to stiffen. But Negan firmly held your hips, intensifying his pace, propelling you closer to the brink of climax.

“Hold on, there's somebody,” you gasp, confused by Negan's apparent indifference.

“It ain't an issue if there's company,” he declares, forcefully driving his hips against you.

“Negan I'm—,” you cursed, your hips rising to enhance the skin-to-skin connection. Your head arched backward, immersing you in a profound trance.

“Cum for me, baby,” he groaned, his voice husky with desire. “Show me how much you want it.”

Intense pleasure courses through your veins, compelling you to grasp his hair and arch your hips to meet his movements. His hold on your hips tightens like that of a ravenous creature, and you knew you would be bruised the next day, but in that moment, it doesn't matter.

Negan glided a hand down, teasing and stimulating your most sensitive spot with his thumb, propelling you closer to your next climax. The noises coming out of your throat as you came were the sexiest sounds he had ever heard and damn, it driving him wild. It's with one last powerful push, he poured himself into you, your bodies entwined in a dance of passion and desire.

“Fuck fuck fuuuck,” he spat, shutting his eyes.

He fell onto you, utterly drained. You both remained intertwined, allowing your still-warm bodies to linger in a comfortable silence. As you slowly regained awareness, the sound of the door closing snapped you out of your daze, and you were suddenly struck by the reality of the situation. Sensing your movement beneath him, Negan slowly rose, propping himself up with one arm.

“Did you just— ?” you halted, sensing a chilling atmosphere enveloping your core when Negan withdrew from you, appearing as bewildered as you felt.

“I didn't mean to. You made it hard for me with all this damn mess,” he breath. He seemed to hold himself responsible, hoping this error hadn't disrupted the beginning of your relationship. Truth be told, sleeping with you was a significant move in his plan to have you entirely for himself.

You fall into a moment of silence, still slightly affected by the intensity of your lovemaking. As you both prepare to dress, Negan, clad only in his boxers, catches your attempt to glance around the room. Interrupting, he requests you an another, gentler kiss. You find yourself smiling in the midst of this tender moment, momentarily forgetting your worries. Eventually, you begin to reassess your choice about joining his group of wives…

Maybe you should think about it again.

A/N : Thanks for reading ! And sorry for any grammatical or other mistakes, English is not my first language. If you have any fanfic requests regarding Jeffrey's characters, please feel free to ask — I'd be happy to write them for you <3

[chelseypprimrose]

Home Movie / Negan x Reader / S7 / 18+

Warnings: daddy kink, oral, unprotected/rough sex, slight dom!negan, talk of masturbation, Negan references himself as “the big bad wolf” (cringe but I love it), creampie, forbidden attraction, talk of voyerism, use of derogatory language, glove/leather kink (slightly)

Summary: Negan finds a smut tape of you on the video camera at Alexandria and makes it his mission to seek you out.

A/N: I got this idea in my head while I was watching the episode of season 7 where the saviours first visit Alexandria with Negan and he finds Rick’s confessional video as he’s emptying the houses out. also inspired by another Negan series called Polaroids by @reevesdriver on here as it’s one of my faves ever! 🫶🏼 I just had to write a Negan imagine in the TWD universe again bc as much as I like pre apocalypse Negan, I needed to write apocalypse Negan because there isn’t anything sexier to me than a murderous man swinging a barbed wire bat and talking about his dick, hope u enjoy 🤍 x

“Goddamn it.” You huffed out, a long breath leaving your lips as you shoved the deer that was on your shoulders further up to prevent yourself from dropping it on the ground. You’d been gone since the crack of dawn, with Daryl gone at this point in time, you were one of the best hunters that Alexandria still had. While you felt some type of way about putting in so much effort for someone else to just take the shit you’d risked your life for, you knew Rick needed people on his side at the moment. It would be foolish to try and be defiant right now, too much blood had been spilt recently and you didn’t want to be the reason it continued. Yeah, you’d played your part in the attack on the outpost but you’d all been in acceptance that it was just that outpost. That once that was cleared, you were rid of the foreboding threat that was the Saviours. How wrong you’d been in that moment, it was only the beginning.

You were now dealing with the aftermath of Negan, having to risk life and limb, bend over backwards to make him happy, the asshole. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d had to hold your tongue to stop yourself from verbally berating his people, knowing what the consequences of giving them a piece of your mind would be. You hadn’t been there when he had killed Abe and Glenn, only hearing the horrid, sordid details after the fact.

The blood from the deer that you’d managed to kill was seeping into your white tee, making your shoulders feel sticky and matting up in the tips of your hair. You signalled a high pitched whistle, waiting for the large dark beige gate to be opened, allowing you enter back into Alexandria. Your eyes found the large sign, “Alexandria Safe Zone: Mercy for the Lost. Vengeance for the Plunderers.” You scoffed, how fucking ironic. The gate began to be moved, revealing three large vans parked up just a couple feet away from the entrance, the Saviour vans. “For fuck sake.” You thought, what could that bastard want with you now, you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous.

“Negan, you’ll want to see this.” Negan turned to look at the saviour approaching him, holding out a small silver video recorder. “Well, what do we have here Grimes? Got my fingers crossed for a little freaky deaky!” He grinned, crossing his fingers in front of Rick’s face. He slid his hand into the leather handle of the camera, a video of Rick coming into view, looking a lot more threatening than he did now. He could barely make out it was Rick, with the massive beard grown on his face he wasn’t used to seeing. “Woah! Is that you? Underneath all that man bush? Holy shit, I would have not of messed with that guy… but you aren’t that guy anymore. Are you Rick?” He grinned, Rick stood with a stern look on his face, not moving. Negan continued to watch the interview, Rick speaking candidly about the amount of people that he’d killed. The video started to go static, indicating there was a tape that had been recorded on top of the original. Negan’s eyebrows furred in confusion, before his eyes widened at what the camera had blessed his eyes with. He watched as you were stood in-front of the camera, a light pink lace open cut babydoll set on, your breast sat in the cups, nipples on show for the camera. You started posing for the camera, running your hands through your hair, holding it up Pam Anderson style. A large sexy smile on your lips, turning to do a 180 spin, your smooth backside coming into view for the camera, Negan pulling the camera closer to his face, almost not believing what he was seeing. He didn’t recognise you, maybe it had been someone that used to be in Alexandria, wasn’t a member anymore. He growled lowly, that would be just his luck, the sexiest woman he’d seen in recent history just missed by a couple weeks. He moved his attention back to the camera, now watching you spread out on the bed, playing with your nipples while starting to rub your folds underneath your panties before the camera cut out, showing Rick’s interview once again.

“Fuck! Just when it was getting good!” He cursed, snapping the cameras screen back into place. A fire now in his stomach, his jeans now contracting around his hard bulge. He couldn’t get you out his mind, he knew he’d remember if he’d come across you before, so who the hell were you?

You’d managed to get the deer half way back to your house before being stopped by one of Negan’s minions, asking what you were doing. You ignored him, just wanting to get back, the saviour hadn’t liked that, grabbing you by the waist, dragging you towards the circle of people that were gathered around one of the vans. You could hear Rick talking about some guns that he’d found, apparently Negan thought you were trying to stash items, to prevent having to hand them over to his people.

“Negan. Got a rude bitch here for you, was about to run home, sneak this thing back with her.” You slightly rolled your eyes. “How am I meant to sneak a deer back, smartass?” You questioned, not believing someone could be so stupid. The man’s face contorted into a rage fuelled look, his hand raising up to you, before he had the chance, Negan whistled. “Hey! We don’t raise a hand to a woman, you know the fucking rules.” He stepped forward, now coming into full view of you, his eyes glancing over your body, looking like a kid on Christmas. You were still here, he couldn’t believe his luck. Lucille sat on his shoulder, his one gloved hand wrapped tightly around the bottom of the wood. “Now I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Negan.” He smirked, holding his free hand out for a handshake, his large frame towering slightly over you. You were met with a slight musk, you recognised it as an old spice fragrance, masculine and powerful. You looked at it, questionable look on your face before your hand met his, engulfing you from the size of it. His rough skin a stark contrast from the softness of yours, the movement felt foreign, you shouldn’t feel this way, especially when it’s him.

You saw Rick tensing up as he watched on from the sideline, wondering what Negan was up to, showing such civilness to you. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Y/N.” You stated, his smirk getting wider. “Sir? Oh, you my dear, are like the gift that keeps on damn giving!” He exclaimed, bewilderment sitting on the faces of those around you and yourself. What the hell did he mean by that? “Load em up, we’re leaving.” He commanded, the saviours starting to retreat back to their vans, Negan not moving from where he was stood.

A few of the Alexandrian’s moved away as well, not wanting to be in his presence for a moment longer than they were required to. “Now doll, take that damn thing off your shoulders, wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” You reluctantly agreed, placing the deer just behind you, before Negan nodded at two remaining men, them coming behind you to take your prized find. You scowled, fury raging inside your soul, you’d risked your life trying to get just one actual nice, fulfilling meal for everyone, just to have your hard work stolen off you. “I believe that’s mine.” You spat out, the fire showing from your eyes as you glared up at him. “What’s yours is now ours doll, or hasn’t Rick drilled that into you yet?” He asked, aware of the sexual innuendo of his words, his tongue rolling across his lower lip. You huffed, knowing if you talked back further, it wasn’t going to end well for you. You felt like you were tasting blood from how hard you bit down on your tongue, fists balled up.

Negan walked over slightly to the back of the last truck, the doors open, a load of stuff that you recognised from peoples homes in the compound. Picking something up, he walked back over to you, Lucille still sat on his shoulder. You saw the small video camera, not thinking much of it, not knowing there was a tape inside that you probably would have never wanted him to see. He placed it on your chest, it digging into your skin, sat just on top of your heaving breasts.

“You should be careful with such sensitive material, never know what kind of perverts going to come across it!” He joked, your eyes widening in embarrassment as you finally understood what he was talking about. You got a look of disgust rise on your face, you couldn’t believe he’d seen such an intimate piece of film. You went to grab the camera from him before he gripped tight on it, making it harder to move. “Now doll, it’s a good job I found this before any of my men did, you know that right? They would have taken this back with them and sat around in a circle jerk together, I however am returning this to you, soooo… How about a thank you, Negan?” He demanded playfully, leaning closer to your face, nose almost touching your cheek. You gulped shallowly, your hand moving over his that was holding the camera to your chest. “Thank you, Negan.” You managed to get out, the words tasting like poison to you.

He laughed, letting go of the camera, allowing you take it back with a yank. “You are more than welcome, baby. Also, in case you were wondering, you are most definitely my favourite Alexandrian now.” He winked, walking backwards before getting in the truck, holding his head out the window, giving a small wave to you as they drove out the front gates. You huffed, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you held in your throat.

It had now been a couple weeks since Negan’s last visit, he’d sent groups of his saviours in between but never actually visiting himself. You were thankful that this had been the case, you’d found yourself thinking about what could have been. You’d began to let your mind wonder to the scenario of meeting Negan in another situation, you couldn’t help but be attracted to him. He was one of the most attractive men you’d ever come across, it was just a shame he was also the most evil men you’d ever come across.

Unbeknown to you, he’d found himself thinking about you too, that fucking video. He’d managed to score some old age dvd porno films from supply runs over the years but he couldn’t even watch them to get off anymore, only thinking of your little smut tape. It wasn’t even like you’d done anything massively explicit on the tape, it shutting off before it managed to get that far but he had concluded that was probably worse. It allowed his mind to run at all the different possibilities, what did you sound like when you moaned, what would you sound like whimpering out his name as he was filling you up? What did you look like when you reached climax? All these unanswered questions racing through his mind as he got out his sexual frustration on his wives, not caring which one it was as all he pictured below him was you. Moaning out your name instead of theirs, the women not caring that much as they were only there to be used by him, no affectionate feelings connecting them to him.

You were currently in the garage, clipboard in hand, biting on the end of your pencil in anxiousness as you went over inventory. You were expecting another visit today, making you want to double check over everything to make sure there wasn’t any discrepancies in the numbers. That was the last thing you needed, especially since you were now actively trying to get plans in place to take the fight back to the Saviours. You were just finishing up when a loud knock startled you, the garage door vibrating at the motion. You put the clipboard down on the side, bending down to pull the door up.

“Well well well! If it isn’t my favourite Alexandrian. I’ve missed you, doll.” It was Negan, that signature grin on his face once again, eyes raking over your body. You felt sheepish under his wandering eyes, now knowing he’d practically seen you naked since he’d come across that video of yours. You sighed, hands resting on your hips. “What do you need, Negan?” You asked, him walking into the garage now, the door slamming back shut. The anxiety started to kick in as you were now alone with just him, as he looked over the shelves, picking up random items and studying them. “Nothing really, just wanted to see your pretty face. I just cannot stop thinking about you, doll! I wonder why that is, huh?” He laughed, you knowing what he was alluding to. He noticed how you crossed your hands over your chest, almost trying to shield yourself from him.

“Oh no no no! There’s no need for all that, I’ve seen those pretty babies already, you’ve nothing to be ashamed of, doll.” He sauntered over to you, towering over you again like last time, practically feeling the heat from his body on yours. You couldn’t take your eyes off his, the way he looked at you making you get slick. He wasn’t one to hide his true emotion, his jeans getting tighter as he imagined you as he saw in the video, putting on a little private show for him. “I’ve gotta know, what made you film something like that? You must of known someone could come across it, why take the risk?” He questioned you, hand coming to rub over his bearded chin. “In this world, there’s not much opportunity to feel sexy. I just wanted something to look back at when I felt down about myself.” You squeaked out, feeling very intimate. Here you were telling the leader of a rival camp your biggest insecurities, possibly giving him ammunition to further torment you and your people.

“Oh doll, you could be covered in damn walker guts, and I’d still think you were the sexiest thing on this damn shithole planet.” He purred, grabbing you slightly by the chin, making you smile slightly. You shook your head, pulling yourself out of his grasp. “What are you doing Negan? We can’t be thinking like this. I can’t be thinking like this. You… you are the enemy.” Your hands resting on the lapels of his leather jacket, the slight coldness of it sending shivers down your spine. You leaned dangerously close to Negan’s lips, his beard scratching the surface of your skin. “Rick would fucking kill me, he’d fucking kill me, if he knew I think about you the way I do. Think about you when I touch myself, wishing it was you.” You whispered, getting more confident in your tone, your eyes staring at his lips, then back up to his dark eyes, your lips partially open as you let out shallow breaths, anything you could to try and lower your heart rate that was pumping under your chest. The silence in the room was deafening, you started to get nervous again, like you were just waiting for him to recoil away from you and laugh at your confession, that this had all been a massive joke to humiliate you further. “Goddamn it doll, looks like great minds think alike because I’ve been doing the same damn thing since I saw that little treat on that fucking camera.” He chuckled, picking you up in one swift movement, placing you on top of the workplace bench.

“Did you think about me claiming your pussy, doll? Fucking you until you can barely remember your goddamn name? What would Ricky say if he saw you submitting yourself so easily to me, the big bad wolf?” The dark tenor of Negan’s voice caused you to whimper in half fear, half pleasure. You could tell his personality was darkening to the more intense side, the jolly joking and fucking about traits were completely absent. You didn’t feel terrified though, like you did when he committed some of the horrific atrocities in front of you, the feelings of excitement causing your hairs to stand on edge and your pussy getting wet with every word that spilled out of his mouth.

“I did, god I want you inside of me.” You confessed, as Negan’s hands ghosted over your cleavage that was exposed by your tank top, before he pulled it over your head, your breasts spilling out of your lace bra. He shoved his gloved hand into your mouth, commanding you to suck. You obliged, your hands holding his arm in place as you swirled your tongue around the two thick fingers, head bobbing up and down as you did. The leather of the glove rubbery on your tongue, causing you to moan onto his fingers.

He grinned at you, a deep grunt as he leaned over capturing your right nipple into his mouth, suckling it, swirling his tongue around and biting it with his teeth causing you to moan and pull his head against your chest as you kept sucking hard on his fingers. He did it again, giving you light bites and licks, alternating between your two erect nubs. Negan removed his fingers from your mouth with a pop, bring them down to give one final pinch to your nipples, the wetness of his one hand causing the cold air to make your nipple more sensitive.

“Get on your knees, I want to see your mouth full of my dick, doll.” Negan grinned with a wicked smile, his hands undoing his jeans, letting them fall to pool at his boots. You felt your mouth salivate, eager to take him as slid off the table onto your knees. You started to lick him, going from bottom to top slowly, teasing him like he did to you with his dirty sweet nothings in your ears, hearing his low groans. You sucked the precum from his tip and swirled your tongue under his head, and then looked up at him, making sure you held eye contact with him, opening your mouth and taking him in little by little, bobbing your head up and down. Your mouth was being stretched wide, you started to move a little faster, sucking him, licking him, taking him deeper and deeper until you felt him in your throat. He was big, causing you to gag a little as your eyes began to water, your throat starting to get a sore feeling within it as he fucked your throat at a quick pace. He gave a slight gasp and his hand took a firm hold of your head keeping you in place, as his hips bucked, making it his mission to get as far down your throat as possible.

“I need to fuck you now, doll. Get up here.” Negan pulled back to your feet, slamming you stomach down onto the table, almost ripping your jeans as he pulled them down your thighs, your moist panties now on show, one tug and the flimsy material broke in two halves, now fully exposing your slick entrance to Negan. He rubbed his dick up and down your slit eliciting a pleasurable moan from both of you, pushing his length inside and then pulling out and rubbing it down your slit again.

“Please... Negan! Please!” You whimpered out, pinching your nipples, trying to get some relief from his teasing. He smirked down at you, that dark gaze watching your every move. “Please what? I want to hear you saying you want daddy's dick. I want to hear you beg me. Come on little girl, say it.” he demanded as he rubbed his length along your wet slit. “Please daddy! I want you deep inside me, please fuck me!” He groaned and pushed himself hard inside your walls, with no hesitations. You screamed, even being sopping wet, you were too tight around his shaft. He leaned on top of you and started to kissing your neck, biting lightly. Negan felt you getting used to his girth, you started to move your hips against him, wanting friction. He started to thrust in slowly, checking for your reaction to his movements. “I'm fine, please, fuck me daddy!” You moaned out, Negan pulling almost all the way out of you and then thrusting in hard making you gasp.

“You're loving this doll, aren’t you? Yeah, you're loving having my dick inside of you. I’d love good old Rick to walk in right now, see you bent over for the big bad wolf.” he chuckled, turning you on even more. Thrusting again and again building up speed, going faster and harder, just like you had imagined he would in your dirty dreams, but so much better than your imagination. “I'm going to fuck you like the slut you are and you are going to thank me for it.” He whispered in your ear, pulling your hair with one hand and holding your hips firmly with the other as he snapped his groin into you, making your ass ripple with the powerful movements. “I want to hear you doll, thank me.” You almost rolled your eyes at the narcissistic request but your brain was too blank to comprehend it. “Thank you, thank you Negan!”

You focused on the obscene sounds of your bodies echoing around you, amplified by how small the garage was. Negan continued fucking you rough and hard, until you felt the orgasm surging inside of you, building fast and strong. When it finally hit you, you screamed with the intensity of it, your body shook with the pleasure waves, running through your core. Negan released your hair to hold your hips so he could keep fucking you. His thrusts shortened, you clenched around his length, a groan leaving his mouth, feeling him finally release just after you. Negan pulled himself out of you, watching as his cum spilled out of your hole, dripping slightly onto the concrete floor below you. He leaned on top of you, leaving small kisses on your spine, body covered in a light sheen of sweat.

“Y/N! We need you out here! Negan is on his way!” You turned to Negan, a confused look on your face, he’d snuck into the compound to fuck you and now you had to act like he wasn’t even here.

[bunnysbrainrot]

Easy Access

Relationship: Negan x fem!Reader

Content: free use kink, fingering, p in v, dom/sub dynamic, overall dirty talk, breeding kink

Summary: After becoming one of Negan’s wives, you soon come to find out exactly why he prefers you all in dresses. One day, when Negan instructs you to wear less than normal, you discover something that riles him up more than anything.

A/N: This is my first Negan story, and although it’s just a oneshot, I hope you all enjoy!

The last few months had become a blur. One day, you were captured by the Saviors from your small community, seemingly the next Negan was scouting you out to be his new wife. Originally opposed to the idea, worries of feeling like a prize than a person, Negan had shown you that he gives each of the wives individual attention. After surviving in the post-apocalypse world, wearing dresses again was foreign. Something about the outfit reminded you of your safety - that would wouldn’t have to run to live anymore, that you could finally focus on your looks again.

Your ‘job’, if you could call it that, was to be beautiful and obedient, though the obedience part was sometimes difficult. But, you had proven yourself to your leader and remained faithful to him. He delivered above and beyond any sexual experience you had before him, leaving you absolutely starstruck and hungry for more when you had time together.

Yesterday Negan had instructed you to ‘forget the panties’ today, so all that was left what your elegant black sundress, a bra, and your heels. The feeling of the occasional breeze up your bare legs was odd, but something tightened in your stomach when Negan saw you in the afternoon, when the wives met with him to relax together.

Though the room was full of other gorgeous women, Negan could tear his eyes away from you, slowly trailing down your bare legs crossed in front of you. Goosebumps rose on your skin, an anticipation of what could happen if his hands wandered over you. As the wives talked to one another, you sipped a glass of white wine as you made eye contact with Negan. He gave you a lazy grin, to which you met it with a polite smile. His gloved hand pointed to his lap, a silent command to join him which you would happily oblige to.

You slowly walked over, swaying your hips in your new dress that hugged every curve in a way that made Negan drool over you. He greeted you with open arms as you settled onto him, resting his broad hands on your hips. As he gave idle small talk to the other wives his fingers teasingly moved across the fabric of your dress.

“So,” his husky whisper reached your ears, “you have anything on under this?”

You turned your head to him and shook it, eliciting a devilish grin from your husband. One of Negan’s fingers hooked at the hem of your dress tauntingly. Red painted your cheeks in a way that made Negan roll his hips up into yours, his hardened erection pressing against your ass.

“Ladies, I appreciate you taking the time to come here today. But, I do have some business to discuss with this one here,” he patted your leg, “This evening, I’m planning on hosting a dinner for all of you lovely wives, but in the meantime I’m gonna have to ask you all to head to your rooms.”

A few of the wives glanced your way in confusion, but your expression showed them that you had no clue what was going on either. Dutifully they left the room, leaving you and your husband to yourselves.

Silence fell in the room until Negan spoke again, making sure anyone else was out of earshot.

“Do you know why I asked you to ditch those panties for me?”

Your breath hitched slightly at his question, to which you shook your head, “No, sir.”

“Well, you see, my dear wife, I will let you know that it does happen to be a quite selfish reason,” he drawled on as a hand tugged at your dress. Negan hooked his fingers underneath and lifted the fabric until it rested at your hips.

With your thighs completely bare you shivered against the chill of the room.

“You’re shaking. You cold, sweetness?” You nodded to his question.

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, I’m gonna find a way to warm you up pretty soon,” he muttered against your ear. The warmth of his breath across your skin left you with your head rolling back to his shoulder as your legs spread for his touch.

Negan let out a low chuckle while his hands wandered upward toward the apex of your thighs. What your husband didn’t know was that ever since he eyed you in the meeting, the heat in your abdomen had left you soaked for him. Your slick covered your inner thighs, inviting him in to let his greedy fingers to take over your senses. Dipping a single finger between your folds, Negan let out a low growl of approval.

“And look at that,” he cooed, “you’re just dripping for me, ain’t you, sweet girl?”

Your hips bucked at his touch, a silent plead for more of his skilled fingers. Negan ran slow circles over your swollen clit, helping you ride through the pleasure as your breaths came out in shaky spurts.

“I thought having your pussy bare to the world could give me some excitement, but I think it may have done that to you, too, angel,” he breathed against your neck, “But you see, my dear wife, the reason I asked you to do that was so we wouldn’t have so many damn clothes in the way.”

You gripped his hand with your own, tugging at it lower to slide his digits to your entrance. Unfortunately this isn’t what Negan had in mind. He urged your hands away that brought a whine from your throat.

“Can’t having you getting handsy, darlin’,” breathed Negan, “‘cause right now, this pussy doesn’t belong to you. And I want you to take a wild guess as to who owns it.”

You hated when he made you use your words, but it gave Negan a thrill when you spoke up in a pleading voice, “You do.”

“I’m sorry, what was that, sugar?”

“It’s… yours.”

“And what is ‘it’, my love?” He demanded softly, tugging your arms back. Negan shifted to create space between you and pinned your arms against his torso, keeping you from breaking free and exposing your aching cunt to him.

“My… my pussy. It’s yours, sir,” that had satisfied him, erupting a groan against your beck. Negan left warm, sloppy kisses along your skin until he reached your ear.

“Now,” he softly spoke, “I’m gonna use this pretty little pussy until I’m drained. That cunt of yours is gonna take my cock and milk it dry. You understand?”

You desperately nodded, arching your back in reply. Negan brought one hand to your chest while the other remained trained on your pussy. The hand on your chest pulled at the straps of your sundress over your shoulders to expose your chest, covered by your bra. Negan’s fingers idly played with your clit as he unhooked your bra. The two of you wiggled you out of it, and now fully bare under your dress, Negan let the straps fall, your breasts laid out for his pleasure.

Two fingers took a nipple and gently twisted, drawing out a sharp moan from you. Negan’s fingers teased the entrance of your drenched cunt, inviting him inside.

“You see how much easier this is, sweetheart? We don’t have all of those pesky underthings in the way of me using you,” he explained in a husky voice. He pulled his hands away without warning. You let out a soft gasp in protest, but he was already freeing your arms from behind your back.

“Stand up for me, baby girl,” commanded Negan, to which you obliged. You stood with shaking knees between his legs, his large erection rock hard in his jeans. Your husband eyed you carefully, “Let’s see you take that dress off. I need to see my beautiful wife in all of that glory.”

You heeded his instruction and lifted the dress over your head, falling to the floor beneath you. Negan beckoned you over with a finger before removing his pants and boxers, springing his cock free to rest against his stomach. At the sight, you could’ve sworn your mouth began to water, eager for him in any way he pleasured you.

“I’m not using that beautiful mouth today. Right now, I need that tight pussy swallowing my cock into you.”

He coaxed you into his lap, his hard length pressing against your soaked folds. Negan took your hips in his hands, dragging you back and forth along his member. Your knees had become weak, slumping against Negan as the pleasure came over you. His hands cupped your ass and lifted you above his length, lining the thick head with your entrance.

“Go on, baby, I wanna see you take me in,” muttered Negan. Your hips lowered onto him, filling your aching heat with his thick girth. As you settled down, and your moans evened out, Negan took your arms into his hands, placing them behind your back with his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he whispered as you rode him gently.

“Get nice and settled for me, babydoll. I’m gonna take care of you, ‘kay?” His voice filled your senses completely, your mouth agape in ecstasy. Negan braced his feet on the floor to buck his hips upward, sending his cock deeper into your pussy. He groaned at the sensation, the mix of your noises creating a harmony of lust.

The strokes started out at an excruciatingly slow pace; eventually Negan began to pick up speed, the head of his cock crashing against your cervix. You weren’t sure how much of this you could take, though your moans fully took you over, carrying out throughout the room.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said sweetly, “I know it feels good, being stuffed with cock all nice and full. How about you cum for me, can you do that, darlin’?”

Almost at the very command, you tightened around his length, drawing out a groan from you husband while his cock bruised your cunt. The thrusts became harsher, striking in deep spots you couldn’t have imagined. Small cries fell past your lips: his name, pleads for more, pleads for him to use you as he saw fit.

“Damn, you’re just about fucked dumb, aren’t ya, sweetheart? Ain’t much else in there except wanting to be a cock sleeve,” Negan growled into your ear. “And might I say, you might just milk my cock for all its worth, the way you’re getting tight for me.”

Something taught in your abdomen snapped at his words, your pleasure erupting wildly around his cock. His thrusts remained as powerful as before, fucking you senselessly through your orgasm. You shook around him, arching your back as you fell quickly into another. The way his cock hit every inch of you sent shockwaves through your nerves, the climaxes hitting you in quick succession. Each time you fell apart for him, Negan seemed to unravel just as much, the only sounds in the room being the occasional growl from him, and the slapping of his skin against your drenched thighs.

Negan brought his mouth to your neck, mumuring sweet nothings until he reached your ear, whispering something that tightened your pussy around him yet again.

“I’ve got one rule, sweet thing,” he began, “I’m about to fill you up into next week, and I don’t want you to waste a single drop of it.”

You hoped that your body could do that. Not out of concern of a punishment, but in hopes to follow his every command perfectly. Negan’s thrusts became more erratic before he let out a rough grunt, his cock throbbing inside of your cunt as he spilled his warm load into you. You clenched around his length to keep his cum inside as he commanded.

“Attagirl,” he breathed heavily, “now, I’m gonna lift you up, and we’ll both watch all of the cum drip right outta you.” Your breath hitched at this, lifting your shaking hips up until his length left you feeling hollow. Warmth dripped past from pussy, to which Negan roughly opened up your legs further to give you both a good show. White ropes of cum dripped from you and onto his length, twitching against his abdomen.

“Now that’s a pretty sight. Look at how much you took, babydoll,” he praised, bringing a finger to your slick, bringing a shudder from you on your sensitive clit.

“You’re far prettier with my cum spilling outta you. All nice and filled up.”

Your breaths remained heavy as you watched the amount that leaked from your folds, over his fingers and onto his palm.

“Say, we should make a day of this,” he proposed. You looked at him in slight confusion while he slipped a finger into your soaked pussy, curling inside of you to strike your g-spot.

“I want… to set aside a day, just the two of us, for somethin’ special.” Negan pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, “I want to see how much of me you can take in a day. We’ll see just how much cum this pussy can hold.”

The idea shattered you around him, clenching around his fingers as your orgasm soaked his hands.

“Oh, you like the idea of that.” He questioned, “What do you say, wanna be a cock sleeve for a day?”

You dumbly nodded, to which Negan smiled.

“Don’t you worry. This was just a practice round.”

Thank you all for reading! I definitely have plans to expand upon this, so be prepared.

[celest1all]

busy thinking about dom!daryl hnggghhhh

+18 smutty and don't read if ur a minor pls god leave now

i can just imagine daryl being eerily silent whilst you pushed his buttons, making you worry. everytime you did something bratty (like jokingly flirt with negan, or anyone who happened to be in your path) he would send you one of those looks; and you knew you would be in shit.

when you get home, though, you knew shit was gonna go south reallll bad. he would pull you into the bedroom in alexandria or god forbid, an empty alley way and have his way with your body. fingers in your mouth so you gag and choke on them to shut you up, the other hand pinning both your wrists on whatever surface is close to the two of you and his cock thrusting mercilessly in and out of you.

fuck, if you were especially bad by arguing back all the time, disagreeing with whatever plan he made infront of his family??? well, a couple slaps to the face wouldn't hurt, and he would not let you come no matter how much you begged.

dom daryl makes me feral and i need this man inside me i fear 😔.

[juuuulez]

plsssssss do the oneshot with Carl and one of Negan’s wives i am on my hands and knees begging

info: Carl Grimes x Reader, minor Negan x Reader, you’re Negan’s wife, Carl is 18 and you are 19, canon episode: ‘Sing Me A Song’, NSFW, blowjob, cum eating, dom reader/sub Carl.

summary: Negan gives Carl a tour of the Sanctuary, where his youngest wife grows quite the interest for the boy.

WOOOWWWW you guys really wanted this so i delivered! beginning to think i have a real fascination with the idea of ownership/belonging to someone.. not even necessarily in a sexual way (however yes!) considering there are themes of this in a few of my fics now LOL

“You’re gonna want to look at their titties. It’s cool. I won’t mind. They won’t mind. Knock yourself out.”

You watch as the boy looks down, averting both the eyes of Negan and everyone else in the room. It can be intimidating, you suppose, considering the parlour appears to be a scene ripped straight out of Playboy magazine.

6 women, all clad in the barest-minimum of fabric that can be classed as a dress. Skimpy black numbers, designed to cling to every curve and divot. Negan saunters away, leaving the boy to his own devices, discussing something private with Sherry.

You’re posed over one of the long leather couches, resting your head over the arm. It’s not uncommon for Negan to bring others into the parlour, usually as some sort of twisted power-play, though this is different. It seems almost torturous, to place a boy in this situation, and you fear he’ll combust on the spot out of embarrassment.

Negan passes once more, manoeuvring the boy’s hand upwards to clutch his beer. This is it. As your husband turns his back, you can strike.

“Psst.”

After catching his attention, you wave the boy over, who appears to grow increasingly nervous at the proposal. His gaze flickers back over to Negan, then to the other girls in the room. You know that Sherry must be watching you with a look of disapproval.

Nonetheless, he obeys, filling your chest with a sick sense of excitement. You lean forward over the edge of the couch, and when he’s within arms-reach, you snatch the cold beer from his grip.

Taking a generous swig, you size him up in a less than subtle manner. He isn’t exactly very tall, and his clothes are all dusty. But there’s something enticing about that stoic look on his face, trying to seem confident, assured.

“What’s your name?” You ask, though it comes out more like a demand. You’ve always been rather blunt, not willing to beat around the bush, especially when you want something.

He looks back over to Negan, then to the floor, as if he’s reluctant to meet your gaze. “Carl.” The boy answers.

You nod, taking another deep sip from the beer before quirking your head. “Grimes?”

Carl doesn’t answer right away, his jaw clenching and eyes narrowing into something close to a glare. It provides all the answer you need, a wide grin on your face.

“We learn a lot during pillowtalk.” You justify, a statement that only serves to make Carl more uncomfortable. How proudly you boast we only implies you’re more than comfortable living amongst 6 other women, which makes his gut twist in confusion.

Like a cat with a mouse, you continue to toy with him. “Drink much?” You ask him, offering the bottle forward.

Carl can’t help but feel this is all some sort of trick. That he’ll slip up, do or say the wrong thing, and be scolded for it. After all, you’re only an extension of Negan, so he tries to be wary.

Despite shaking his head, he accepts the bottle anyway, holding it awkwardly in his palm. Your gaze is expectant, unwavering, almost to the point of being unsettling. Yet, Carl doesn’t falter, and he doesn’t dare drink the beer.

“Good boy.” You quip, shuffling to kneel up on the couch. Even in this position, he’s a good head taller than you.

You take the bottle back, to which Carl feels a minor bout of relief. Taking another sip, you continue to shamelessly inspect him. “You shoot that gun?”

Carl manages to nod, attempting to look anywhere but directly at your chest, which is temptingly presented to him. “Maybe.” He confirms.

“Sounded like a machine gun.” You point out instantly, not allowing a single lull in the conversation.

Biting down on his lip, Carl nods again. “You’d be correct.”

With his cooperation, you smile widely, wanting to see how much further you could string this along. “Do I make you nervous?” You ask in an innocent tone, though Carl knows it’s anything but.

When he answers, he isn’t looking at you. His gaze is up, a little to the right. “No.” Carl says rather quickly.

You take another swig from the bottle, before it’s lifted up and out of your hands. A noise of protest builds in the back of your throat, before Negan’s large hand cups over your neck, guiding your head to look at him.

“Stealing from me?” He accuses, a wicked grin on his lips as he keeps the beer just out of reach. You lick the remaining residue from your bottom lip, sinking back down to sit on the couch rather than kneel.

“No, sir,” You reply in that equally sweet tone. “Just getting acquainted with my new friend.”

Carl steels his gaze at Negan, refusing to look down at your obedient form. He catches another woman watching them, seemingly disapproving of your attitude.

“Of course you are, sweetheart.” Negan drawls, sweeping his thumb over your cheek.

There’s an anxious feeling settled into Carl’s nerves, unsure whether or not he’s even allowed to be speaking with this girl. But you’d called him over, after all. In a way, he was just following orders.

Whatever mental debate was stirring didn’t matter, for the door to the parlour opened once more, with Dwight leading a beat-up looking Daryl. It stole Carl’s attention away, focused on the growing tension in the room.

Knowing your little game was over, you retreat further into the room, fishing out a cold wine bottle to replace the confiscated beer. You don’t bother listening to their conversation, though as Negan leads Carl away, your gaze remains trained on his retreating figure.

The sparkling liquid sloshes into the glass, foaming up against the sides. You raise it, taking a swift sip, savouring the pungent taste. As you do, Carl takes one more glance into the room, a grin growing on your features as you lock eyes.

Now, you knew very well that cheating was forbidden. It’s what had Amber in such a tizzy, still crying softly over on one of the couches. This was going to be a hard play, but you were always one for a challenge.

You also always got what you wanted.

So, you begged Negan to take you to Alexandria. He immediately said no, of course, yet thankfully you’d been strategic about it. You wore a tiny black nightgown, and with the absence of heels, you leant on your tippy toes in order to press a kiss to his cheek with a long-winded pleeaassseee.

It worked.

What better way to consolidate power than with some arm-candy, Negan would later justify.

You were amazed to discover just how big Alexandria really was. The Sanctuary was sort of a massive factory, after all, but this place looked like a regular neighbourhood. Negan claimed he needed to settle business elsewhere, so he left you with a kiss, and you were permitted to explore.

Of course, you had a specific task to attend to. A need that required fulfilling. Maybe you just liked the challenge, wanting to push that boundary, see if you could really do it.

Though you greatly enjoyed being taken care of, not having to lift a finger at the Sanctuary, you missed that control you’d relented in favour of protection. Before meeting Negan, you’d been fairly well-off, and knew how to manipulate a situation in your favour.

Or, a person. Need be.

“We meet again, cowboy.”

Your pleasant chirp and upturned smile catches Carl off guard, who’d been carrying out a menial maintenance task towards the back of Alexandria. It was a secluded area, private, which immediately put him on edge.

“You’re here with Negan?” He asks, obviously sceptical. There’s a small box of nails in his hands, as it appears he’d been repairing a hole in the fence. Or, trying to, at least, given he’d made little to no progress so far.

You aren’t offended by his hesitance, knowing your presence can be intimidating. As usual, you wore a lacy black dress that left little to the imagination, dipping low in the front and ending around mid-thigh. “Of course.” You confirmed shamelessly.

Only to be met with silence, you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, I’m not his dog. He isn’t around.” You assured Carl, trying to get the boy to loosen up a little.

It seemed to have the intended effect, as he put down the supplies he was working with, offering his full attention. There was a critical look on his face, something near judgemental, which lit a fire in your belly.

“Why are you with him?” Carl asked, finally inquiring into what’s been playing on his mind.

You raise a brow, biting at the bait. “Why not?”

His expression twists once more, a molten well of determination in his veins. “Are you serious?” Carl urged, not understanding how you’d be so.. complacent. “I mean, you’re, what? 20?”

“19.” You corrected with a sly smile, the word uttered with an inkling of pride, as if it was something to brag about. Only 19, and you’d acquired a husband who’d give you anything.

But you, somehow, still wanted more.

Shaking his head, Carl echoed your sentiment. “19.” He sounded disapproving, critical of your position. Maybe it was a tone intended to make you back off, but it had the opposite effect, as you found that you wanted him more.

It looked like he was about to say something else, further comment on the situation. So you stepped forward, intruding on his personal space. His brows furrowed, confused, as he backed a little further into the fence.

“What-..” He begun talking, though was quickly quelled by your finger, tapping gently over his lips. Each nail was perfectly manicured, painted a soft pink colour, drawing his eyes downwards to the appendage.

You looked up slightly to meet his gaze, though thankfully the heels gave you some leverage. “Are you not into me, or something?” You asked, the words tainted with feigned sadness.

It elicited the intended reaction, for Carl shook his head almost immediately, words coming out hurried and confused. “What? No. You’re… beautiful, obviously.”

The smile returned within an instant, a sly grin that manifested much too quick for the previous emotion to be genuine. Carl was beginning to catch on, starting to understand that you had a better hold on his feelings than he did.

It was like playing with a Venus flytrap. You were a minx, a siren. Each word was sticky, coated in a honey-like sweetness that caused him to fold, bending to your every desire.

Instead of answering verbally, you slid to your knees, finding purchase in the gravelly earth. Soft skin became slightly dirtied, though you paid no mind to it, gaze still firmly locked on Carl.

He swallowed, hard, appearing in slight disbelief. Those manicured fingernails gently scraped the fabric of his flannel, trailing down, down, to the denim of his jeans.

“This is.. we shouldn’t do this,” Carl whispered, sounding both breathless and slightly panicked. “You shouldn’t do this.”

“But you want it.” You interjected, and as if to make a point, traced a pointed fingernail over the crotch of his jeans. They were slightly tented, causing Carl’s face to flush with embarrassment, looking towards the sky to avoid gazing directly down the exposed portion of your chest.

Fostering his attention back, you gave a chaste pinch to his side, causing Carl to yelp and look back down at you. His silence caused you to grow stern, that soft allure gone, replaced by an air of dominance. “Say it. Say you want it.” You commanded.

As if on command, Carl was nodding, forcing the words from his throat. “I do.”

“Really?” You inquired, stretching out the tension, which only ebbed on the throbbing feeling in Carl’s pants. It had been hard enough to remain composed in front of Negan, but without the looming threat, his mind found that it wanted you more than he’d like to admit.

“Yes. Please, I want you.” He finally uttered, those few words delivered in a tone of desperation, laced with a hint of shame. This was wrong. So wrong.

The smile returned once more, conforming back to that sweet, soft look. You appeared proud, content, happy to have gotten your way. “Good boy.” You cooed, and in that instance, Carl believed it was all worth it.

You finally worked at his jeans, unbuttoning the fly and slowly pulling the zipper down. Despite being near the back fence of Alexandria, anyone could walk past, which added to your excitement and Carl’s anxiety.

Fisting him in your hand, you licked your lips, savouring the way his breath would hitch. His cock was hard in your palm, the tip red and strained from all the teasing. It was slender, curved slightly, and you wondered how it would feel in your throat.

“Did you like the dress?” You asked him, hot breath hitting his exposed cock as you spoke, “I wore it for you.”

Carl’s gaze was drawn down, back to the exposed cleavage in the silky black dress. He found himself nodding, having to force the words out, still in somewhat of a state of disbelief.

“Yes, I did,” He replied, voice cracking as your palm tightened its hold. “I do.”

Finally, finally, you poked your tongue out, flattening it to lick a generous strip from base to tip. You swirled it around the top, collecting the salty precum, before suctioning your lips onto his heated member.

Trying not to make too much noise, Carl’s hands fumbled, holding onto the fence behind him. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, barely holding in a ragged moan as you slide down his clock, wet mouth enveloping him to the hilt. It was no surprise you were this good.

You looked up at him, lashes slightly wet with the stretch, as you held your place. One hand rested over his hip, whilst the other reached out to take Carl’s hand in your own, leading it to the back of your head.

He was nervous, clearly, trying not to hurt you. But then you swallowed around him, tight throat restricting, allowing him to feel every ridge, and Carl couldn’t help himself. His hips nudged forward, shallowly thrusting deeper into your channel, with a stuttered gasp.

Encouraging the movement, you dipped your head back for air, before swallowing him whole once again. Carl seemed to get the message, his hand gently fisting your hair, as he worked up a steady motion that allowed him to fuck into your throat.

The pressure of a tight, wet heat was unlike anything he’d had before, and Carl found himself unable to be silent. His moans were quiet and breathy, moving up a pitch whenever you swirled your tongue around the tip on the up-stroke.

You reached up, forcing your palm over his mouth, trying to keep him from making too much noise. It serves to muffle the sound, along with enhancing that arousing feeling of control, revelling in the fact that he’s at your mercy.

Feeling him twitch in your throat, you pull away. It elicits a whine from Carl, strung out and desperate to have you in any way possible. Keeping him at that edge, you build up firm strokes over his cock, now slick with your saliva, as you hurriedly pull down the bust of your dress.

It exposes your breasts to the cool air, giving a firm yank on your bra to free them. The sight causes Carl to gasp, squirming in your hold as you tighten your fist, finally milking sticky strings of cum that land right on your skin, spilling all over your tits.

With practised motions, you slow down, not wanting to overstimulate the boy. His head falls back, leaning against the fence, trying to catch his breath. You shake your hand out, relieving it of the slight cramp from how dedicated you’d jerked him off.

As planned, your breasts were coated in his release, though luckily it hadn’t soiled your dress nor bra.

You brush the dirt from your knees as you stand, finding them to be slightly scraped due to the gravel. Carl’s attention falls on you once more, after he’s readjusted his jeans, rendered speechless by your appearance.

The silence fills the space between you, though you have an expectant look on your face, once Carl doesn’t quite understand. A raised brow, you glance down to your chest, before back up at him.

“Gonna clean up your mess?” You ask him.

He blinks once, twice, before catching on. “You mean… with a towel?”

You purse your lips, a manicured finger swiping across the swell of your breast. It picks up a glob of cum, pearly white on the tip, which you deposited into your mouth.

Carl seems to get the hint, a nervous look on his face. He’s never… eaten his own cum before, the idea making his face scrunch up in mild disgust, though you seem to do it effortlessly. His hands settle on your hips, hesitantly, still standing there in consideration.

“Unless you want Negan to see?” You prompt once more, the vague threat working to kick him into gear, understanding the severity of the situation.

It was his mess, after all.

His head dips down, licking a tentative stripe over your exposed breast. The taste is unique, salty and distinct, though not exactly unpleasant. Carl tightens his grip on your waist, as you gently thread a hand through his hair, guiding his face as he cleans you up.

The action has your nipples hardening, a tingly sensation growing between your thighs, though you’d wait until later to satisfy yourself. When he pulls up, there’s a smug look on your face, gleaming with pride.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You whisper, leaning close to deposit a grateful kiss over Carl’s lips, tasting him on his tongue once more.

His face is red, flustered and slightly embarrassed over what you’d made him do. You tug your bra back into place, along with adjusting the hem of your dress, smoothing it down to reestablish that perfect appearance.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” You announce, giving the boy a small wink before prancing back into Alexandria’s centre. There’s a breathless stammer behind you, though you pay it no mind, willing to let Carl simmer in his feelings before your eventual return.

Of course, you managed to clean up a little more before reuniting with Negan, who was speaking to a Saviour at the front gate. He greeted you with a chaste kiss to the cheek, arm wrapping around your waist.

“What happened to your knees, baby?” He rumbled, concern furrowing in over his brow.

You looked down, noticing how they were slightly scraped. “Heels on gravel.” You shrug, offering it as a minute explanation, though of course, it’s far from the truth.

For now, Carl would remain your little secret.

[cherryheartssblog]

SHE CALLS ME DADDY

Summary: Y/N is just a woman working as waitress at a night club and is a full time student in college. Trying to better her life from her past she never thought she find a man to treat her like she deserved.

Warnings: 18+!, smut!, rich! negan smith, daddy kink!, mentions of drinking, daddy issues!, oral sex (f receiving), major sugar daddy vibes!, girlyreader!, praise kink!, cursing!, rough sex!, gift giving!, mentions of divorce, mentions of trauma!, dom! Negan, choking!, pet names!, dirty talk!, sub reader!, fluff!, major family issues!, jealous tendencies!, obsessive negan!,age gap!, cursing, and not fully edited.

A/N: been obsessed writing old rich vibes and sugar daddy vibes! This was just something quick I wrote up, I hope you enjoy! ❤️

SEVEN MONTHS AGO..

Y/N strutted up to the bar, her tray held high above her head. "Two martinis with two tequila shots!" she shouted over the beat of the music. As she set down the tray, she smoothed out her tight black skirt and adjusted her matching top, which hugged her curves in all the right places. Working at this upscale nightclub had perks, and Y/N always looked her best. She had landed the job a year ago, shortly after moving in with her roommate Emma. The night was young, and anything could happen.

As Emma and Y/N worked their shift together, Emma asked a question in a low tone, "They tipping you well tonight, babe?" Emma was the main bartender for the night. They both had been fortunate enough to land the same job, and were even luckier to occasionally get the same shifts. Sharing the same classes and work schedules had helped them a lot, especially when they had to work night shifts. Emma started making the drinks while Y/N smiled and shrugged, glancing over her shoulder. The colored lights in the bar illuminated Y/N's reddened face, which Emma couldn't help but notice. Y/N's eyes followed something, and Emma tried to see what who it was, but Y/N swatted her hand away, and they both shared a hearty laugh.

“Who do you have your eyes on girl?” Emma was interested raising an eyebrow, laying the drinks down on the empty tray. “Just this guy, no big deal.” Y/N shrugged it off, grabbing the tray, “He is older and on a date already.” Emma scoffed rolling her eyes playfully, she snorted a little starting to make more drinks to serve. Y/N held the tray high pursing her lips, leaning on alitle for only Emma to hear. “Seems rich, saw his watch. Probably a sugar daddy.” Y/N joked walking away with the tray serving the table across from the man she couldn't stop looking over at.

He was in a booth, the lady beside him was talking which seemed she had been doing that a lot . The older male kept his eyes around the bar mainly, once making eye contact with Y/N sending her a wink. Y/N’s face was reddened with embarrassment, clearing her throat laying down the two shot glasses quickly receiving a tip. Y/N breathed fighting a smile on her face going up to his booth to clear the empty glasses they've had. “Is there anything else I got can you guys?” Y/N asked a smile, she had the empty glasses on her tray.

Y/N felt uneasy as the woman sitting across from her gave her a scrutinizing look. On the other hand, the man beside the woman seemed to be intrigued by Y/N's presence and his face lit up upon seeing her. "I think we're good, sweetheart," Negan said, his eyes wandering over her. "We'll just take the check." The woman sitting beside him scoffed and let out a small hiccup.

“I'd like another drink, I'll head to the bar myself.”

Negan’s scratched the top of his nose straining a smile. Y/N couldn't help but notice the insincerity in the woman's expression as she stumbled towards the bar. Feeling a surge of annoyance, she decided to go to the bar herself once Negan did not offer another glass.. As she walked past the woman, she held her gaze for a moment before shrugging it off and forcing a smile, trying to suppress her anger.

“I'll go grab check, sir.” Y/N maintained a sweet and polite tone. She assured him that she would retrieve his check and raised her voice slightly to ensure he could hear her over the music. She made her way towards the printing station, keeping in mind the woman who had been eyeing her. Y/N had noticed that the older man had also been ogling her, which made her feel a bit disconcerted. She quickly retrieved the glasses from behind the bar before proceeding to print the customer's check. However, before she could do so, she felt a jolt from behind. When she turned around, she saw the older man smirking at her with a sly expression on his face. Y/N rolled her eyes, fully aware of his intentions.

“What? You tryin’ to ask for my number while on a date?” Y/N questioned, she crossed her arms keeping a smile resting on her face. “Was just our first date, doll.” The man admitted, “Don’t worry I’ll be a gentleman and take her home.” He didn’t admit he was not wanting to ask for her number. Y/N just laughed trying to walk away as he then stood in front of her to stop her.

Y/N laughed stopping in her tracks looking up at him. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ve been seeing you for weeks here.” Y/N couldn’t believe he had kept his eyes on her so long. Her lips piercing burst of confidence, the man was very attractive. She knew he was older, he seemed to have money by the way he dressed and class. He had tattoos that peaked out on his arms and chest. He had a few gray hair on his beard and through the curls in his hair but it made him look even better.

The two of them had wandered off to a secluded area, away from the hustle of the club. Y/N stood there, crossing her arms, lost in thought. She wondered if this was a good idea, and if she should proceed. Suddenly, she asked, "Do I even get to know your name first?" The older male flashed a smile, causing her heart to skip a beat. But it was a smirk, one that sent shivers down her spine. It was a smirk that seemed almost sinful as if he had a dark secret hidden beneath the surface.

“That names is Negan.” He licked his lips, Y/N nodded being close to the register and starting to ring up his check. Negan watched her, starting from her bare legs to her exposed chest. She was a beautiful woman, a smile that made his night. She seemed just like his type, he wanted to more know about her from the first time her saw her. She quickly ripped his recipet writing something on it quickly giving it to Negan.

As Negan glanced down at the receipt, his eyes lit up when he saw her number scribbled at the bottom. A wide grin stretched across his face as he looked up at the young woman with a playful smirk. He smoothly pulled out his wallet and took out a two crisp hundred-dollar bill, placing it gently in her hand. "Keep the change, doll," he said, his voice low and smooth. The woman felt her face flush at his flirtatious wink, her heart racing in her chest as a mix of excitement and nervousness coursed through her.

“Get your date home.” Y/N still gave him a warm smile, “Thanks for the tip.” Sending a wink his way.

Y/N knew she shouldn't do this but why the hell not?

PRESENT TIME…

That was seven months ago. Seven months ago when she met Negan Smith.

Y/N couldn't help but feel drawn to him. He had a certain charm that was hard to resist. After that unforgettable night, it took her a couple of days to muster the courage to text him. To her pleasant surprise, he responded promptly, expressing his interest in taking her out on a date. He suggested a nice restaurant, and upon their arrival, he opened the door for her, being a true gentleman. His chivalry did not go unnoticed, and Y/N felt grateful to be in his company.

After going out on a few dates, it was clear that Negan and Y/N had chemistry. They couldn't keep their hands off each other. It was then that Negan made an enticing proposition to Y/N - he wanted her to be his, and he promised to treat her like a queen. He vowed to give her everything she could ever want or need, and Y/N found herself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Growing up, she had never received that kind of attention or affection from a male figure, and perhaps that's why Negan's offer was so appealing to her.

Now, Y/N was working lesser shifts at the club spending her weekends with Negan at his place. Just as much as Negan was a gentleman he fought to keep his hands off her before discussing details. She was different than most women to him. He wanted her more than anything.After his messy divorce, he took a break on dating for while. It took him a couple years but when meeting Y/N it made him want to try again.

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, admiring herself as she wrapped a beautiful necklace around her slender neck. The black dress she was wearing hugged her curves in all the right places, making her look stunning. She had been staying over at Negan's place for the weekend, and as she turned around, she saw him leaning against the wall behind her, holding something behind his back.

Negan's eyes sparkled as he looked at her, and he couldn't resist complimenting her. "Well, don't you look sexy," he said, his hands instantly on her hips.

Behind his back, he revealed a bouquet of flowers, and Y/N's face lit up with joy. She couldn't help but gush and squeal, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I know it's not a big anniversary, but I thought I'd still give you something special, sweetheart," Negan said as Y/N received the flowers.

"You spoil me way too much," the younger woman playfully scolded him, feeling his hands resting on her hips, squeezing the ends of her dress.

“That's my job, doll.” The older man gave her multiple kisses on the neck that tickled her a bit. She giggled, trying to keep the flowers squished, playfully pushing him back. “Quit it!!” Y/N whined with a laugh, “You are gonna mess the flowers up.” Negan chuckled at her reaction, and he shook his head, still finding her cute. “How bout I put them in a vase, yea?” Negan suggested taking them from her.

Y/N trailed behind Negan as he descended down to the kitchen. As she entered the room, he got her a vase, filling it with water. Negan wore a suit, but he had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his toned arms. Despite herself, Y/N couldn't help but find his arms alluring.

“You just eatin’ me up, ain't ya?” Negan looked up, wiping his hands off from the kitchen sink. Y/N realized how long she'd been staring, looking down quickly, getting another chuckle from Negan. “I should say the same thing about you.” Y/N knew he could have her around him instantly. He sprawled out on the kitchen counter, taking his cock deep.

Y/N and Negans sex life got better and better each time she felt like it. After their first couple of dates, they fucked for the first time in his vacation home after he took her for a trip. Then, after that, it could be anywhere from the back seat of his car to the bathroom of the restraunts he took her. He had her wrapped around his finger, shed been on her knees instantly for him. It

“What's on that pretty lil’ mind of yours?” Negan could read her energy, learning about her each day. Y/N blushed, dhe was Already shifting from the sinful thoughts of him. He legs squeezing together feeling a pressure in her pussy that he made her feel many times before. “When's the reservation?” Y/N was quiet when she asked, her heels clicked walking closer to him. Being right in front of him, he'd hands trailed up his button shirt getting a smirk from him.

“Oh trust me, doll. We got time for this.”

His lips pressed against hers as his hand caressed her neck. Y/N moaned into his mouth and deepened the kiss by parting your lips and letting him in. The feeling of his tongue against her made her insides tingle as he kisses her harder.

Chills spread through down her body and down her legs; she gripped the top of his jacket. Y/N pulled him closer to her. His hand drops to her bare thigh, rubbing the goosebumps that crept on her skin. He chuckles darkly, sliding his hand upwards on her leg and stopping at the edge of her tighter dress. He picked her up quickly, placing her on the counter behind them.

“Makin’ them thoughts come true, sweetheart?” Negan groaned into her ear, leaving kisses down her neck. Y/N only whimpered, feeling his hand go to her throat, tightening around it slightly. “Use your words, baby girl.” His words had her melting to the floor; it was so hard to answer him.

“Yes..” Y/N stuttered out, feeling the heat already coming from her face. Negan chucked at her, on how helpless she was. “Yes, what?” Negans fingers brushed her lip; she kept her eyes looking up at him.

“Yes, daddy.”

"Spread for me, sweetheart." The sound of his deep voice radiates to her core as she gives in immediately, spreading her legs open slightly allowing him access. His hand cupped her pussy as he groaned softly in her ear, feeling how wet her underwear was. Her dress rode up, allowing him to see most of her body on display. He began throwing his shirt away, still hanging his pants snug around his waist with a belt.

"Negan, please touch me," Y/N pleaded, placing her hand on his and urging it to her center. “You are such a slut" He laughed seductively, pulling her underwear down slowly. "But you're my little slut, right?" The younger woman couldn't help but whimper at his filthy words, throwing her head back and feeling his finger run through her wet folds.

“Yes, daddy.” Y/N cried out, and she was a hot mess. She knew it, too. Y/N needed him so bad she could feel it in her stomach. It was a craving that would not go away even after having it so many times, “I'm yours, Daddy.”

“Damn right, you are.” Negan then got down on his knees in front of her. Before Y/N could stop him, he lifted her legs over his shoulders and then pulled her closer to the edge of the counter until his mouth was hovering right above her exposed, dripping cunt. She bit her lower lip as she looked down at him, bucking her hips a little as she tried to get him closer. He chuckled at how desperate her movements were.

“Please.” Y/N felt like the craving was hurting, like a pain building up from their tension and not saying any words. Negan had his tongue flick inside of her over and over. Then gliding his tongue up on her wet slit until reaching her clit and sucking gently. Y/N’s legs instinctively wrap around his head, pulling him closer by his hair as her head falls back with pleasure.

Her dress was now slipping off her shoulders; she was a moaning mess, her fingers running through her hair and his. "Feel good, baby? You like that?" He says after coming up for air; watching her expression, she cries from the loss of contact with his tongue. She could feel her orgasm build inside her stomach, butterflies filling up in her chest. Y/N could barely describe the feeling; pulling on his curls, she moaned loudly.

"Negan, I'm gonna..” Y/N screamed out, feeling overwhelmed; tears filled the corners of her eyes. Her back lifts off the counter, squirming around coming around his mouth as his tongue makes contact with her clit. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he praised her, climbing to meet her eyes. She was out of breath, keeping her eyes on him.

His lips sent to hers again, tasting her juices around his lips. “As he leaned in closer to her, Negan whispered, "I'll give you everything, my love. The world is yours for the taking. The stars, the moon, and every little thing in between. You are mine, and no one else can have you. I'll protect you with everything I have." Negan's infatuation with the younger woman had grown into an obsession, and he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side. Y/N giggled, wrapping her arms around him, his hands moving to his belt to undo his pants.

“Right now, I want you to go fuck me.”

“You're wish is my command, darlin’.”

"You sure you're ready for me, baby?" He playfully asked, smirking at Y/N. Pulling out his bare cock, giving it a jerk or two, teasing it at her entrance. “You know I always am, Daddy.” His hands cupped her neck, pushing into her slowly. Y/N moaned out, feeling herself stretch out. He groans as he slips inside of her, and the way she is practically begging for him drives him crazy. Negan loved it when she begged how submissive she could be.

"So fucking tight, holy shit," Negan muttered into her ear, his head dropping down to bite and suck on her neck. "Oh, baby, fuck." Y/N had her legs wrapped around Negan, feeling his thrust pick up. His hand tightened on her throat; Y/N was a moaning mess, having Negan moaning into her ear.

“You're always more than just sex, know that.” Negan had his hand around her where his nails dug into her cheeks, “You're mine.” Y/N whimpered out, her mouth hanging open as she couldn't stop letting moans out. Y/N and Negan did have a sort of sugar daddy deal going on for awhile, and maybe, in a way, they still did.

She knew feelings had developed though between the two.

His movements get harsher gradually, getting her closer and closer every second. "I'm so close, Negan," She admitted, her nails drug down his back she knew leave marks. "Taking me so fucking well, darling," Negan praised, reaching one hand down to lazily play with her clit. Which had her coming as he began. He takes her lips in a sensual kiss as she climaxed trying to muffle her moanscontinuing to fuck her through her orgasm. His entire body weight fell intoher giving into his own orgasm.

Gradually, his movements slowed down, and then pulls out as Y/N let out a tiring giggle. "Holy shit," she giggled, the whole situation setting in. Negan helped her up taking her hand, pulling her into another long kiss.

As they broke their kiss, he helped her straighten out her dress and whispered, "That was amazing, sweetheart." Y/N smiled and took his hands into hers, feeling a loose strap on her shoulder as she did so. She pulled it up and adjusted her dress, taking a moment to appreciate the sensation of his touch. He looked at her with a soft gaze and said, "I know we had plans, but could we just stay in for the night?" Y/N couldn't help but feel a warm, content feeling spread through her as she nodded in agreement.

“I was thinkin’ same thing.” Y/N smiled, “Could go for another round.”

[winterrsun]

I’m in charge

Negan x reader SMUT

18+ only, mdni

Warnings: degradation, mentions of torture, dom! Negan, mild exhibitionism, mild knife play, squirting, scary/ mean Negan (basically just his true personality, but no actual violence occurs in story)

Authors note: this is not only my first the walking dead fic but it is hands down the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, it and me are depraved. Hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want a part 2 because it’s low key already half written in my head….

Summary: Negan coerced reader to be his wife at The Sanctuary in exchange for leaving her people at Alexandria alone - but reader founds out they’ve also been holding Daryl prisoner and abusing him . When she goes to confront Negan it doesn’t quite go as planned and he quickly reminds her who’s in charge.

You stormed through The Sanctuary, up the stairs towards Negan’s office. A few people eyed you wearily as you basically pushed past them in the corridor, not even noticing as the conversation you’d had a few hours earlier rang fresh in your mind.

It was only recently that Negan had let you start making visits to Alexandria, even more recently that he’d permitted you to go alone. You’d been living at The Sanctuary as his ‘wife’ for nearly a year now, and you’d built up a surprising level of mutual trust in that time. Especially given you weren’t exactly there willingly. But he’d always taken a liking to you, ever since he first met your group that night outside the camper van.

You were disgusted and terrified of him, but at the same time even then you couldn’t deny a level of chemistry and physical attraction that streamed between you when you first locked eyes. It was what had allowed you to convince him to spare Glenn, you were sure of it.

Then whenever he and his saviours would visit Alexandria to collect their haul, he’d always make a point of seeking you out and starting conversation. Until one day he made his offer; that you go with them back to The Sanctuary and the community at Alexandria will be left alone, never having to split their supplies with The Saviours again. Holding an alliance with them that near ensured no other group would dare try to attack the community. It was an offer far too good to refuse, though Carol and Rick and Daryl had tried to convince you to.

It was hard at first, almost unbearable, missing your family and settling into a cold, strange new home that felt like a twisted cross between a shitty summer camp and a military academy. But you managed, like you always did. Negan’s likeness towards you only grew and it didn’t take long for you to become his wife. In fact, you’d be lying if you didn’t admit it had made life more bearable. Both for the luxurious living quarters and the somewhat weird sisterhood type friendship you’d struck with the other wives. And yeah, the sex was pretty damn good too.

Yes, things were really not as bad as you’d expected they would turn out for you here, especially since you started visiting Alexandria and your family. You’d made the trip this morning, taking the drive filled with the usual joyful high of anticipation you got at the prospect of seeing everyone. Except not everyone was there when you arrived.

You didn’t notice at first; why would the absence of one individual jump out at you immediately? But you did notice the way everyone behaved, it was different. They seemed…sad, and nervous. It didn’t take long for Carol to ask the question that shattered the glass for you.

“Have you seen him? How is he?”

“Who?” You asked, heart beat fast increasing at the unease of the situation. You glanced around and clocked Rick and Carl, Glenn was with Maggie hushing Hershel. You didn’t see Daryl anywhere and knew before Carol’s answer left her lips.

“Daryl, they’ve had him for weeks. He’s being held at The Sanctuary. Nobody even knows if he’s still alive, we haven’t heard anything for at least a week.”

After gathering what more information you could you fast turned on your heels and commenced your mission you were closing in on now; confronting Negan immediately. You’d all but left in a cloud of dust to the cries of “be careful” from your friends and family.

But what did you care about being careful? The Saviours weren’t some terrifying, unknown threat anymore. They were your home now. Negan was technically your ‘husband’ for Christ’s sake. And he had been imprisoning and possibly torturing one of your best friends right under your nose for weeks without telling you a thing. Needless to say, you were beyond pissed.

That feeling of outrage was what fuelled your actions as you flung open the door to Negan’s office, hardly registering the dozen or so saviours sat around the conference style table. Negan was standing when you entered, at the far side of the table from where you stood, and he and every other person in the room immediately turned their heads to look in your direction at your loud entrance.

You didn’t hesitate to march across the room, around the table, up to Negan. “You want to explain to me what the FUCK is going on with Daryl and WHY you didn’t tell me he’s here?” You demanded. You were panting slightly both from the rushed journey you’d made up to the office and from the angry adrenaline currently pumping through your body.

Negan remained silent for a few moments before he answered you in a dangerously low tone. “Sorry doll, did you not notice I’m in the middle of a meeting?”

You stupidly continued “I don’t give a fuck about a fucking meeting, Negan. I want answers now. I get to Alexandria to find my friends and family distraught and they tell me you’re holding Daryl here prisoner. Starving him and beating him, how could you fucking do this? You better start explaining!”

You realised you’d gone too far before you’d actually finished the last word. You felt, more so than heard, Simon scoff somewhere to your left. For the first time since you’d walked in you began to feel self conscious of all the eyes in the room that were now darting between Negan and yourself. He smirked a little, and slowly turned to look at his followers, as if daring them to react to your boldness. His eyes met yours again, as he started to speak in a tone that was downright scary this time.

“You don’t get to fucking demand answers of me. You don’t get to demand anything. Don’t you dare forget your real place here”.

You looked down, at a loss for words finally, and softly bit your lower lip. You’d fucking done it now. Maybe he’d let you leave quietly if you acted apologetic and submissive now. Yeah, right.

He forcefully grabbed your jaw and yanked your head upwards so you’d look up at him again, his finger tips pressing in harder than necessary. “You look at me when I talk to you. You think you can barge in here, act all tough and bratty in front of my soldiers. Fucking think again.” Your eyes glanced sideways and briefly met Dwight’s, and Negan’s gripped on you tightened even further. “Don’t look over there, look at me. Don’t take your fucking eyes off me. You made this choice and now you will have to be on the receiving end of one loud wake up call. Don’t for a second think that my fondness for you means you have ANY authority here, you do NOT!”

You jumped as he yelled the last words, and your legs began to tremble as you looked up at him, neck and jaw beginning to ache.

“Now my men are gonna think that you think you can run circles around me. I can’t fucking have that. So we’re going to have to show them, and remind you, who exactly is in charge here. Get on your fucking knees, now.”

You slowly lowered yourself one leg at a time onto your knees, while he maintained his unrelenting grip on your lower jaw. It hurt your neck even more to look up at him from this angle, but you didn’t dare break eye contact.

“Open your mouth” he commanded. You did so immediately, and he did something he’d never done before. He spat right into your mouth.

You felt shameful and disgusted as the wet deposit landed on your tongue, but also the tell tale sign of heat and excitement began to prickle your body at this lewd act. You didn’t move, knowing better than to act without instruction.

A few second later, he uttered one more word; “swallow”. And you did, feeling the cold liquid run down your throat before blinking up at him.

His eyes softened, just a tiny bit, before they resumed their darkness. “Unzip my fly” he instructed next.

Fighting the urge to glance at your audience, you began to reach your hands towards him. Your heart pounding against your chest and in your eye drums. Your fingers softly brushed the fabric of his pants before he broke, and swatted them away motioning for you to get up.

“We don’t have time for any more of this now, we’ve got real shit to deal with” he said. You felt relief wash through you at the prospect of this almost being over. “Wait for me in your room, go straight there now” he instructed. Maybe not so over just yet.

“Yes, sir” you replied timidly. The first time you’d spoken since the dynamic shift has happened between you, and your tone of voice couldn’t have changed more.

You quickly exited the room with your head down and your cheeks burning red, tears stinging your eyes that you refused to let fall out until you made it back to your room.

It had been over an hour, but you hadn’t done much other than alternate between nervously pace around your room and sit on your bed staring at the door. You hadn’t really seen him like that before with you. It reminded you, shudderingly, of how he first treated your group when you met him. You cast your mind back to Abraham and were overwhelmed with dread. You had forgotten just how dangerous the man you lived with was. You supposed it was a self preservation effort; you knew you had to play the role of his wife regardless, so it was easier to live in denial and try to make the most of it. You felt shameful about that now, it was selfish and dumb.

You wondered if he’d actually hurt you. Maybe he’d throw you in the cell with Daryl. At least then you’d get to see Daryl. God you couldn’t stop thinking about him. On the way back to The Sanctuary your mind had more been preoccupied with being pissed off at Negan concealing this from you than actually worrying about Daryl’s safety. Yeah, Carol said they’d beaten him but you knew Daryl could take a bit of roughing up, and figured no real harm would have been done to him. But now you weren’t sure at all.

You’d become a nervous wreck by the time two sharp knocks were heard on the other side of your door. You hurried over and opened it, to find Negan standing on the other side. Eyebrows raised at you.

“I take it you’ve had some time to mull things over, anything you’d like to fucking to say to me?” He said.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your meeting Negan” you mumbled, eyes on the floor.

He smirked slightly, before saying “yeah, you better be. I’m real fucking disappointed in you, doll. We have something special, I’ll admit, but that doesn’t mean you forget who I am. I’m the boss, you respect and obey me, no questions asked.” You stared at him, frozen, while he went on. “The fact you think you can demand answers of me at all is a problem, but the fact you felt it acceptable to do it in front of my Saviours tells me you need a serious lesson to remind you of your place.”

You gulped, and started to try and plea your case. “I’m sorry Negan, I really am. I know my place here, I was blinded by concern for Daryl; he’s my family!”. You can tell it’s falling on deaf ears as his expression remains unchanged; his mind set. You wondered with terror what you’d been trying to keep out of your mind for the last hour; would he use the iron on you? Surely not on your face, he wouldn’t want to ruin his own viewing pleasure, but what’s to stop him maiming something like your arm?

Tears started to fall down your face, and he finally moved towards you further. “Oh baby doll” you gained an ounce of hope that he’s softening, “don’t start crying already, we haven’t even gotten started”.

The hope vanishes and your insides clenched in fear. “Are you going to hurt me?” You whispered.

“Not badly,” he said, “not in any way I know you can’t take baby girl”.

His tone edged into a territory you were more familiar with, and you raised an eyebrow tentatively. He was teasing you for sure, and now you were less terrified about the possibility of a truly terrible punishment. Well, one that would cause real lasting physical harm anyway. He slowly raised his arm and cupped your face, tilting it up towards his.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say, and show me what a good girl you can be,” he said steadily, and you gave him a small nod. “You gotta earn back my trust, and it isn’t going to be fucking easy.”

His hand slid down your décolletage, around your shoulder and landed on your waist. You couldn’t help but lean into it the tiniest bit, and noticed a small bubble of anticipation forming in your stomach.

That was followed by a twinge of guilt and sadness as you once again remembered Daryl. But you knew you had to face reality, the only way for you to have any hope of helping Daryl is to win back favour with Negan. You had to perform for him now, exactly how he wants. And if there was a small part of you that might enjoy some parts of what’s about to happen, well, that seemed like a small bonus you earned to slightly counter balance from the trauma of your life for the last however many years.

Negan gave your waist a squeeze and stepped back, drinking in your appearance. You were still dressed for this morning’s Alexandria visit; tight black jeans, a grey tank top and black laced up boots. You never left the compound in any shoes other than heavy boots that could kick in a walker skull if needed.

“Strip down to your underwear” he commanded softly, and you tried to make hasty work of your shoelaces, and not look too awkward hoisting them off. Next your hands shot to your pants button.

“No need to rush this part so much” he directed, and you immediately slowed down your efforts as you pulled your jeans down your legs, trying to bend over in attractive an angle as possible.

You made eye contact with him as you lifted your top over your head, and he licked his bottom lip slightly as his eyes glint. You then stand still, feeling a little awkward with him fully clothed and you in your worn out bra and cotton panties, staring at you like a lion sizing up its prey.

You know he likes to be the one to remove your next items of apparel, and sure enough he moved towards you and reached around to the back of your waist. He flicked open your bra with one hand and lets it drop to the floor.

Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small silver knife with a smirk. Your heart pounded against your now exposed chest. He ran the cool metal blade along your side and you shivered at its touch on your hot skin.

He moved swiftly and the sound of fabric cutting cleanly was heard before your panties drop to the floor.

“Mmmmmmm” he groaned in appreciation at your now fully naked form. “Well go on, do a little twirl for me” he instructed. You spun around, feeling like a doll in a music box on display. As you returned to face him, he raised his eyebrows indicating you to continue, and as you rotated back around again he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, back now to him.

You should have known he’d want to check out your ass, he loved worshipping it. But this wasn’t about being worshipped. He gently pushed you in the back so you began to move over to the bed with small footsteps, stopping just in front of it.

“Bend over, hands on the mattress” he instructed, and you leaned forward precariously while he added “feet further apart doll”.

You felt a burn of humiliation at the vulnerable position you were in, legs and cheeks spread open, presented in front of him. You flinched slightly at the touch of his fingers on your bum cheeks. He caressed them lightly, before delivering a sharp slap to your right cheek.

“Alright, let’s get this part over with” Negan said with a slight sigh, and you heard movement behind you, the sounds of what you were sure was him unbuckling his belt. You knew better than to look around and confirm your theory, so instead looked down at your hands and tried to steady your increasingly rapid breathing.

Further confirmation was given to you at the sound of leather on skin, as he warmed up a practise tap in his palm. Then came a burning flash of pain across your backside, and you couldn’t help but yelp.

“We’ll do ten, count me down doll” he murmured to you, and you whimpered in protest before you could stop yourself.

He tutted sympathetically, “I know baby girl, but you can take it. It’ll push your limits, but I have to teach you a real lesson here.” You nod reluctantly. “I told you to count, didn’t I?” He added in a more menacing tone.

Immediately you stuttered out the word “ten!”

You counted down each painful lash, picturing the sight of your ass covered in red marks, hoping that none of them had broken skin. Shamefully, you noticed each strike delivered an underlying trace of pleasure mingled with the pain. You were sure Negan knew it too.

As you rounded out on “T-two!” With a tear rolling down your face onto the sheets below, Negan paused. You dare a glance behind you and noticed he’s bent down, examining his work. You felt his breath fan over your most private spot, and realised he wasn’t looking at your bruised up ass; he’s staring at your pussy.

You felt the smooth leather of his belt suddenly invade your slit, and retreat just as suddenly. Then it appeared in front of your face as Negan narrated “fucking glistening, you filthy girl” with a chuckle.

Negan then delivered the final blow, directly to your pussy this time, landing square on your clit, and you let out a scream. You weren’t even sure whether it was more a scream of pleasure or pain at this point.

Negan cleared his throat pointedly and you realised you missed the final count. “One” you sighed out, before your trembling arms finally gave way and you slumped your upper body onto the mattress. Your legs started to follow and you bent your knees towards the ground, but Negan’s arm scooped under your waist and held your hips up, letting out a “not so fast doll” as he did.

You were now face down on the bed, with your feet still on the ground spread apart, and your backside more on display in the air than ever. When he was sure your legs are steady again, Negan released your hips and you felt more than heard him sink to his knees behind you.

“You took your punishment well baby girl,” he murmured, “now I’ll help make you feel better” he finished before plunging his face in between your legs.

He motorboated your cheeks before taking his hands and spreading them apart, and you felt his wet tongue land where you needed it the most. You moaned and leant back into him as he lapped at your pussy, eating you like a depraved man. His tongue flicked downwards at your clit, which stung just slightly after the belt slap he’d administered just minutes ago. He suckled at your sensitive nub and you let out a loud moan. You could already feel pleasure building towards climax after the state he’d riled you up into. His tongue lazily dragged back up away from your clit, and didn’t stop until it traveled all the way up past your pussy. He quickly replaced it with his finger sliding in past your slit and you immediately pushed back agreeably against the welcome entrance inside you.

You let out a gasp of surprise as his tongue found its new destination, one that he’d never been before - nor had anyone for that matter. He delicately licked your puckered asshole and you marveled at the new sensation, while two fingers now formed a steady rhythm pumping in and out of your pussy. You’d never felt anything like it, and as his tongue got braver, starting to push itself inside your tight hole, you fell into a continuous flow of moans and pleas while softly rocking into his rhythm.

You thought you were already in an unbeatable state of pleasure when his thumb began to rub circles around your clit, and you grasped helplessly at the sheets beneath you. While you knew your orgasm was still building and approaching, you felt so good it was like you were already coming. Yet you felt the feeling continue to build, and you knew that no matter what you didn’t want it to stop.

“Fuck! Yes, Negan, oh please” you sang out.

His tongue danced around and inside your asshole while his fingers mercilessly fucked you, and his thumb circled your clit faster and faster. Your gut clenched and you cried out, reaching a peak like no other you’d ever experienced. Suddenly, too late to react, you felt a secondary feeling like you were about to pee. And then it all happened, you screamed in overwhelming pleasure while fluid broke out of your body and gushed down Negan’s hand. You swore you actually saw stars for a moment and not once did Negan’s actions pause.

You heard him let out an animalistic growl from behind you as you soaked his fingers and he finally withdrew his face from your ass cheeks. As your high came down he continued to pound into your pussy and your legs started to buckle, your energy fast fading.

“Negan, I can’t, no more” you let out softly, desperation in your voice.

He chuckled, delivering two final harsh thrusts of his fingers before pulling them out.

You bathed in the warm, hazy feeling that tingled throughout your body post orgasm, letting yourself lean into the drunk sensation it gave you for a moment.

“Turn around doll,” he instructed. Shakily you pushed yourself up on your elbows and turned so you were sat up watching him, while he stood up straight before you. He looked you in the eyes and licked every one of his fingers clean, slurping up your juice that had coated his entire hand and soaked his sleeve.

Any embarrassment you were at risk of feeling from having squirted for the first time in your life vanished when you realised how much he evidently loved it. He stopped before he got to his pinky and now brought his hand to your mouth. He pressed his finger to your lips and you opened up to let him in, sucking your own juices off him and noting the tangy taste on your tongue.

“Fuck, you did so good baby girl” he praised, stroking your hair with his other hand.

You were too exhausted to reply at this point, and he seemed to pick up on that. Finally feeling satisfied with his punishment, he smiled at you sympathetically. “Time for you to get some rest I think” he murmured, guiding you into the bed as your eyelids felt heavy already.

You slowly laid your head down onto the pillow as he guided you encouragingly, and let your eyes flutter closed. In that moment, you couldn’t remember anything at all that had happened that day. But it would all come back to you in the morning.