#I did not expect actual attention nor interest so uhhh here we go

[you-get-the-gist]

Hello everyone it seems more people than I thought are expressing an interest in my hlvrai fanfic so!!!!!!!!! I have one problem

help

Little summary under the cut of what you can expect:

SO basically, Benrey has been basically monkey-wrenching himself a time loop. Every time he 'dies'/gets defeated, he wills himself a second try so hard time restarts. Well, roughly.

Really, it's more of a "everyone except Benrey forgets about the last run, and the world gets reset." So Benrey tries again and again to be good, to appeal to Gordon, to get SOME sort of love, and it just does NOT work. The harder he digs his heels into making things go his way, it doesn't work.

The story needs a villain, and that's what he is, oooobviously (sarcasm, he's the POV of the story mostly)

It's only once he accepts death that he learns that the only way things can change is to let them pass.

And oh baby, SOMEONE has to learn that too (Gordon).

Oh also, the whole world was constructed by G-Man as a way to give his comatose son a world of his own (Tommy). Basically, bunch of machines tap into your mind n you get your own little simulation!! Of course, if you don't want your son to be trapped in what is basically his own mind, the little experiment needed other test subjects. Buddies, if you will.

That's how the rest of the science team came to be! Only a liiiittle fucked up via consciousness upload or whatever.

This experiment has been affectionately dubbed 'the Torment Nexus' by me n my friends, because it's kinda based off the hypothetical that was like "if you could start your life over but it was a simulation/not real, would you?" And in my mind, the answer to that hypothetical is "actually not really." So, yeah, Torment Nexus!!

More details can be uncovered if you. yknow. read it.

[kegareki]

dameamaryllis replied to your post “every time i work a bit on my ‘verse based on chinese BL system...”

Oh, I really like what I've seen of this so far! Would you tell us more about your protagonist and his relationships with these characters? (And am I reading the hints right, that the "light" has some sentience and/or is influencing human thought?)

:D i am always up for talking about my stuff

answers under the cut!

to answer your second question first: yes to both!

in the setting of the story, the vast majority of humans follow the church of the ever-living light. there are some pockets of surviving, older religions, but the church of the ever-living light is pretty much omnipresent.

it’s been in existence for... less than a thousand years, i’d say? with it rising to prominence during a large-scale war. its main tenets haven’t changed much in the years since.

the ‘ever-living light’ is something of a god and something of a transcendence: it’s not exactly a person, but it’s personified. saints of the ever-living light are mortals that have been ‘chosen’ and ‘blessed’ by the ever-living light to carry out its will as listed by the church; they’re generally exceptional and used to increase the church’s influence and advance the church/ever-living light’s agendas.

the ever-living light ‘grants’ holy/light magic to its believers. saints and popes are the most powerful, magically. this magic is exhaustible, however: what the ever-living light gives, it can also take away.

(several saints have died throughout the years because their magic depleted fully at a crucial moment. their deaths, although tragic, were used to reenergise the population and reaffirm their course.)

inspiration about this comes from ‘western fantasy’ settings in system novels--it’s unrealistic to me that an entire species would fall under the umbrella of one religion (i mean... look at Real Humans, lmao). one of the specific ones is the light god arc in “quickly wear the face of the devil”. there’s another specific one, but i. unfortunately do not remember it. r.i.p

the truth of the ever-living light is that, rather than being innately divine like you’d expect a god to be, it lifted itself up to the position of a god and is using faith as fuel to keep itself ‘godly’ in the eyes of mortals. the holy/light magic ‘gifted’ to its followers are portions of its own power, loaned out for as long as the person in question will follow its will, and as a result there’s a sort of ‘link’ between the ever-living light and the mortal that allows for greater influence in the person’s thoughts.

it passes itself off as a kind, compassionate being, but it’s more true that it’s greedy and vicious. it’s enacting a centuries-long campaign to rid the world of demons because it harbors resentment for the species; it doesn’t directly yank back its power from its followers when it realises that they’re straying and instead waits for the most opportune moment.

it wants humanity in good shape basically just to be a robust population to throw at the demons. and, like, honestly? being followed because people love you feels a lot better than being followed because people fear you. love and faith can be turned into swords against your enemies, but if you use fear instead, those swords will be turned on you as soon as they can manage it.

the upper echelons of the church are more or less partners-in-crime with the ever-living light. they’re not a PR tactic/expendable tool like saints are; they’re PR and the hands that wield the tool.

... and, in the ‘original story’, sheng qinghe is absolutely oblivious to all of this!

two of his followers/group members--his childhood friend, sen sizhen, and the scholarly male friend that he makes later on, mo yunxing--are not. i think mo yunxing’s family tends to be church members, and sen sizhen has a unique perspective of “being close with the person cultivated to be a saint while not being valuable herself except as leverage,” so they both end up sort of intuitively grasping that there is danger in sheng qinghe’s position and that it’s imperative that he serve the church of the ever-living light well.

when sheng qinghe questions what they’re doing, they divert his attention so that he stops thinking about it. when he’s staring in silence at the bodies of the demons he’s just felled, they take his arm and lead him away. when sheng qinghe wonders if the violence they’re doing is justified, they’re quick to remind him of all of the atrocities that demons have done.

i had intended sen sizhen to act as sort of a love interest for sheng qinghe, since Girl Childhood Friend is popular for that, but she’s ended up in a sort of older sister role to him, wanting to protect him from things that he doesn’t yet understand--that, under her watch, hopefully he will never understand. she cares about him a lot, but there’s a slowly widening gap between them because she feels like she has to shield him from ‘the cruel reality of the world’. neither she nor mo yunxing think that he is capable of facing that reality.

OH i don’t know if it could be inferred or not, but: sheng qinghe, in his role of a saint, is being used to spearhead “a final war” against demons. that’s why he ends up fighting against the demon king--it’s the “final step” in defeating the demons.

in the ‘original story’, he succeeds. with their backing gone, the rest of the demons soon follow their king to the grave. sheng qinghe is touted as the hero of humanity.

in the fic i’m writing, the main character transmigrates to stop this.

so, for the relationships question:

the main character transmigrates into zhu yixian, a fox spirit who is more or less one of the demon king’s most prominent lackeys. in the original setting, xi youtian had rescued zhu yixian from fur traders when he was a kit and raised him up in the absence of his parents, and in return zhu yixian devoted his life to serving him.

that’s more or less true here, too, but. mc zhu yixian is an entirely different person, so of course things change.

see, the thing about the mc is: they love sheng qinghe, and they think of him as their idiot son, so of course they want to get personally involved in his upbringing so that they can stop him from... (gestures to sheng qinghe forcing down his conscience, again and again, and culminating in literal genocide) that

so here, we have a demon who has more or less been adopted into the demon king’s family ............ more or less adopting in turn a saint of the ever-living light

zhu yixian is, of course, not being upfront with their identity--revealing that they’re a demon would NOT end well at this stage--but they’re kind to sheng qinghe, and they help him out in some situations, and scold him and tell him to think, and sheng qinghe really does end up viewing them as something like an older brother/uncle who’s looking out for him

unlike sen sizhen and mo yunxing, who try to protect sheng qinghe by shielding him from the things that they think/know will hurt him, zhu yixian instead wants to make sheng qinghe think. they don’t want to give sheng qinghe the option of just. closing his eyes and ears to the world. they want him to be better than he would be otherwise

... but, of course, you can’t make anyone do anything. you can only give them the tools with which to make their choice and hope that they make the choice that’s right for them

uhhh, other relationship stuff that i don’t know how to sort:

it’s not uncommon for demons to mix in with humans--they do share the same planet, after all, and even the same continent--so it’s not really strange for zhu yixian to traipse around in human territory. it is a little strange for zhu yixian to cultivate a relationship with a human

xi youtian doesn’t probe about it, though. he doesn’t interfere in his followers’/friends’ personal lives much.

he thinks it’s funny that zhu yixian talks about sheng qinghe like they’re his long-suffering parent, though

xi youtian has three other prominent lackeys; they’re pretty much close as family. one of them is the Mom Friend, who’s warm and likes taking care of people; there’s the Enabler Friend, who is always so down with whatever idea someone has; and there’s the Snark Friend, who has a bad mouth but a good temper. although xi youtian is their king, they’re privileged enough to speak to him as equals

zhu yixian is younger than all of them. although they’re a young adult by the time they meet sheng qinghe, they’re still viewed as the baby of the family

zhu yixian gets indulged A Lot. they can get away with all sorts of things and even be looked at affectionately while they’re being a brat or acting spoiled. on one hand, they’re like “guys! you need to discipline children more!” and on the other hand, they’re like “this is great, actually”

zhu yixian’s original life may not have been the greatest, so like. second childhood with people who love them and will also give them all the hugs they want? talk about relationship security

fox spirits can transform into human form when they reach adolescence. i have a scene written about zhu yixian’s first transformation; they come careening out of the room in one of xi youtian’s childhood robes and happily babbles at xi youtian about how they have hands! and can finally see over the table when sitting!!! and xi youtian laughs a little like “those are what you’re most excited about?” and zhu yixian replies very seriously “i have things to say, and most people don’t listen to tiny foxes who have to stand to see over the table.”

later, Snark Friend is like “huh. i was expecting you to be taller.” and zhu yixian is like “I’M STILL GROWING”

the atmosphere at home is really warm, haha. they all care about each other a lot, and you can feel it

(which is another reason on the ever-increasing list for why things CANNOT go as they did in canon. it’s not just that sheng qinghe’s canon behaviour was wildly out of character as they understood him to be--it’s that they want to preserve the lives of these people.)

zhu yixian thinks sheng qinghe’s friends Are Not That Smart. sheng qinghe doesn’t have to worry about school entrance exams or anything like that, but they’re still a little concerned that stupidity is contagious

sheng qinghe is easily influenced, after all, if canon is anything to go by

sheng qinghe doesn’t really understand what zhu yixian is talking about until his jock friend realises zhu yixian’s identity as not only a demon but one of the hands of the demon king and yells it in the middle of a restaurant and all of sheng qinghe’s friends follow suit in immediately becoming hostile and assuming that he’s been tricking them and zhu yixian, aggrieved, is like “WHAT are you talking about? when did i lie? when did i try to hurt sheng qinghe???” and sheng qinghe is like ... (thinks back over years of interactions) (zhu yixian literally gave their real name) (zhu yixian has helped sheng qinghe and co on more than one occasion, at no benefit to themselves) (My Friends. Might Be Stupid After All.jpg)

that is... all for now, i think

thank you so much for being interested in my stuff <3 <3 <3

[eerythingisshaka]

Moronic Jealousy

(M’Baku x Reader)

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings:  Fluff and Smut, 

A/N:  HAPPY BIRTHDAY ATHENA!!! 🎉🎉🎂🎂🎁🎈💕💋 

I fully intended on posting this on the actual day, had the plot and everything but this week was, whew chile!  So after some selfcare, I finally got a story for you @muse-of-mbaku!  Happy Birthday and I hope New Orleans treats you well.  Continue to be great, break necks, and make moves!  This is inspired by a part of A Different World episode between Jaleesa and Walter.  Soon as I saw it on Prime Video, I been wanting to use it as fanfic fodder. It’s silly, so I hope you like it!

“So then I was like ‘Put the pussy on the chainwax!’”  Michelle cackles out loud as you and Adriene look at each other, telepathically wondering if your friend has gone insane.

“Honey, why would you say that in traffic court?  I enjoy the enthusiasm, but it’s misguided.”  Adriene states, leaning into her glass of moscato.

“You just don’t get it.  (Y/N), you get what I was trying to say, right?”  Michelle looks to you.

After several seconds of gulping air to find the words you respond.  “To me you just added a charge of animal cruelty on top of not having a working headlight, so I’d put you up for 3 years if it was my word, but Adriene is the jury here.”

Girls night is your favorite night of the week.  It’s a tradition that has been hard to keep up with given the busy weekdays you all shared, but in a way that made the final connect all the more sweeter.  And what comes with that is your favorite pastime: Drunk Courtroom.

“Man, you ALWAYS take Adri’s side in this.”  Michelle pouts, blowing a 3B curl out of her face.

“That’s what the judge does!  My jury tells me what to do- I think I need to cut you off of the Barefoot, cuz…”  You slide the bottle closer to you on the coffee table.

“No, that ain’t my problem!  You really bossy since your engagement to Timbuktu.”  Michelle cheeses into her glass.

Your jaw drops, scoffing.  “Oh my God, how many times I gotta tell you to stop calling him that!  Especially now that he is my future husband, chill with alldat.”

Michelle giggles, pushing you a little.  “Can I play a little??  You landed a gold mine, or should I say vibranium mine with him as your catch.  See what happens when you put the pussy on the chainwax?”

“Once again.  I. Don’t. Understand. That. Phrase.”  You clap between each word in frustration.  “Besides. He doesn’t work with the vibranium, he handles Jabari wood, which is just as sacred and important.”

“It sure the hell is.”  Adriene says out the side of her mouth.  “I bet his wood is handled very properly, hence the ring….”

“Stop.”

Michelle chimes in with a seductive tone.  “Does he wax his own wood, or do you do it for him?”

“Guys.”

“Is that what he names it?  Jabari?  ‘Jabari needs some attention…’ or whatever?”  Adriene inquires with an M’Baku impression that sounded more like Vincent Price.

“Fuck off y’all, damn!”  You get up in embarrassment to get some ice cream from the fridge as Adriene and Michelle balk in laughter.  Don’t nobody know how to cut you down from your high horse like your friends.

“Ok, ok.  My bad, we just playing with you!”  Michelle calls out.

Adriene cosigns.  “Can you blame us?  Mr. Perfect out here wining and dining you, leading a whole damn tribe and slaps a rock like that on your finger?  Don’t pay attention to us.”

Sitting back on the couch you lick your spoon instead of your wounds; the vanilla, brownie, caramel combo soothing you as you hold out your left hand.  

Two weeks ago, M’Baku took you on a gondola ride that set the mood for romance just right.  You weren’t expecting anything to come from it but some snuggles with your love but when the boat looped back to dock, rose petals covered the path a nearby fountain, fanciful luminarias shaped in a heart on the ground marked the spot where he led you.  One of his cousins was there to shoot the moment as M’Baku got down on one knee and spoke his sweet words to you.  You couldn’t pay attention to their context because you were sobbing so much but knowing him they were profound and loving.  When you said yes he couldn’t stop hooting in the dead of night, hugging you tightly, kisses unabating.  He hasn’t stopped holding your hand since because ‘the ring is so heavy.’  

“Yeah, well I still can’t stand y’all heffas.”  You grumble, rocking into them side to side.

“I wanna play a new game.  Adri, pick something, child.”  Michelle directs, pouring her glass to the brim again.

“I’m three years older than you, but go off I guess.”  Adriene mutters under her breath, pulling her braids back in thought.  “How about...Telephone!”

You scoff at her suggestion.  “You need at least 10 people for that game to be effective.  Pick something else.”

“What’re you talking about?  All you need is some phone numbers and gumption to cold call people.”  Adriene says with lip smack, pulling out her phone.

Michelle groans.  “Girl, you talkin bout crank calling people, not telephone.  Telephone is the whisper challenge for people with a lot of friends basically.”  

“Ohhh, you right!  Ok, so crank calls.  Let’s make em!”  Adriene picks up a handful of hot cheetos, munching excitedly.  “And Michelle should go first since she so smart or whatever!”

Michelle screws her face up.  “No!  If I apparently lost Courtroom, I’m sitting out first round.  (Y/N), start things off.”

“I don’t feel like it.”  You whine, not entirely joking.  The moscato and late hour of the night made for a deadly combo.

“Pleeeease.  One round!  Ooh, to make it interesting, how about calling Tim?”  Michelle asks sneakily.

“His name is M’Baku!”  You exclaim.

“That’s neither here nor there.  I wanna see this!  Wake his ass up!”  Adriene says, bouncing in her seat.

You lay the ice cream down, picking up your phone regretfully.  “What do I even say?”

That’s all Michelle had to here.  “Ok, so check it.  You call him and change your voice a little to make it seem like you’re someone else and just catch his reaction.”

“Pretend he got child support payments due!”  Adriene offers.

“You always gotta be extra, Adriene!  But he’ll know it’s me.  This ain’t the 90s no more and he has my number after all.”  

Michelle brushes your doubt away.  “Just *67 him!  It still works today, trust me…”  her voice trails off as she sips from her glass shaking her head in an apparent flashback.

“O....k.  I’ll try it, but soon as he knows its me, I’m cutting it.  I don’t wanna stress my baby.”  You say, lowkey getting excited by the approaching tease.  Adriene cuts the music they were playing as you dial in silence.  

The phone rings on speaker phones ominously as you wait for M’Baku to pick up, fully expecting him to say your name and catching you instantly.

“Hello?”  He says sleepily.

You pause, words leaving your brain as Adriene and Michelle mime things to say.

“Uh, bueno, I’m so sorry for the late call.”  You say, lowkey butchering a Spanish accent as you hang your head in shame, certain you are caught already.

You hear rustling on M’Baku’s end as he moves.  “Well, may I ask who is this?”

You hated this already but push your way through the conversation.  “This is...Daniella?  Um, lo siento.  Pero, a friend of mine gave me your number to call so I could introduce myself.”

“What friend?”   He asks curtly.

You look to your girls for help on this one as they mouth names.

“Uhhh, Terrance?  Michelle’s brother.”  You say hesitantly.  They had only met a couple times at group events, so they were hardly friends but it is the best you have to make a connection.

“Ohhh, Terrance, yes, we are wonderful friends.  Known him for years.”  M’Baku says perking up.  You make a face at the phone as he lies so effortlessly.  “So can I help you with something, Ms.  Daniella?”

“Well, you may not know me but I have seen you at the gym a few times,  y I was muy impressed by su cuerpo y musculos….sorry!  I meant your body and muscles, I’m always slipping that way.”  You say playfully to keep up your Spanish identity.

“No, it is alright.  I speak Spanish fluently so si quieres, podemos hacerlo-”

“No!  No, but thank you!”  You clutch your chest as your heart pounds nervously.  No way in hell your high school Spanish could keep up with his.  “But, maybe we could meet in person and study our native tongues together.”  You throw that in for good measure.  Michelle almost howls out at your brazenness.  

M’Baku chortles out loud, and you know you are caught.  Shaking your head as he laughs at you, you almost start to reveal the prank and ask him to knock it off.

“I have never been so enchanted by a woman I have yet to meet.  You have piqued my interest, Daniella, I cannot lie.”

“Really?  Oh, you are making me nervous now.  I thought for sure you would have someone already keeping your attention.  You are just so handsome.”  You waited on edge for his response.  This is when you will surprise him that the woman he is about to talk about in his life is the one pranking him.

“Nooo, I try to keep my personal life as stress free as possible.  And I am very relaxed right now, so I would love to meet you sometime.”  

You can hear the smile in his voice as his baritone shines through, and you are disgusted.  That voice that made you quiver is intentionally being used for another woman, imaginary or not.  You couldn’t look at your friends for fear of breaking down.

“Wonderful!  How about tomorrow night, 8pm?  Since you are free…”  You try your best to keep up the art of seduction but it is waning fast.

“Perfect.  We can meet at this nice restaurant by the Lake Kenoba.  It’s beautiful at that time of evening.”

“Perfect!  See you then.”  

Hanging up the phone, you look to Michelle and Adriene who are staring back at you, mouths agape.  

“That didn’t go as planned.”  You say, tossing your phone aside on the couch cushions.  

“Why the hell did you pretend to be a date for him?  I can’t believe he’s playing us...I mean you!!” Adriene exclaims.

Michelle pats your back.  “Now now, don’t get so up in arms.  I bet you five he is pranking you back.  No way in hell he actually fell for that.  Your Russian accent was so far left field, I couldn’t-”

“It was Spanish!”  You say defensively.  Michelle just makes a face, looking to Adriene for help.

“Ok, well, honestly I agree with Michelle on this.  He is a smart man, and loves you to death up until now.  No way this is a sign of anything else.  Right?”

You sit back on the couch looking to the ceiling to search your thoughts for anything that may have lead to a sign of this coming.  “Guys, I don’t meant to kick y’all out but I need to be alone.”

They both try to convince you to not think too much into the whole conversation, but that was impossible.  Soon as they left, you were pacing the floor, channeling Angela Bassett circa Waiting to Exhale.  If the band on your ring wasn’t vibranium, you would burn it with his clothes.  Instead, you come to a moment of clarity.  Maybe they are right and he isn’t a low down, dirty dick ass cheater.  Maybe.

You pick your phone up and text him a ‘Hey babe!’ with a kissy face.  His response is quick, giving you an equally affectionate hello text.  

You text him asking for some time to see him tomorrow night at 8pm.  Same time as Maria, or Lisbeth, or whatever name you gave yourself.  You see the bubbles pop up and disappear several times on screen, driving you insane.  Now he takes his time to reply?!

He says he cannot make it, meeting with family that day.  You offer to come with, but he says it is private.  Too private for your future WIFE to be apart of??

You end the conversation, not bothering to respond.  Your phone dings again but you don’t bother checking it out.  As you make your way to bed, you look up on Amazon for gasoline cans and bleach with one day shipping guarantees.

The next day, you are in a hazy cloud of dread.  Your concentration at work is gone, you barely could eat lunch, and Michelle and Adriene keep blowing up your phone asking for updates, which there were none.  Your fears had already been confirmed so what more was there to talk about?  

That’s when your brain hatches up a plan.  You were gonna catch him in the act, no doubt about it.  When you got off work, you went to your place to gather an overnight bag and head over to his.  He won’t even feel like going out when you were through ‘being his peace’.

Pulling up, you knock on his door at 6:30pm.  M’Baku opens the door, shirtless in his joggers.  

“(Y/N), what are you-”

“I figured after you are through with your family, we could hang out!”  You say hurriedly, walking briskly past him as he stares at you in confusion while you toss your bag aside.

M’Baku walks over to you, arms crossed.  His pics substantiated by his stance and bold tattoos across them.  “Did you text me before getting here?”

You swiftly turn to him, taking off your jacket and shoes.  “No, not at all.  Should I have?  Am I interrupting something?”

M’Baku furrows his brow looking from your bag to you.  “Like I said, I made plans with family at 8, so I am in the process of getting ready.”

You blink a couple times, holding your chest.  “Oh, oh!  Don’t let me stop you, Timbuktu!  You do all you need and keep it moving, I’ll be upstairs chilling.”  You pick up your bag and head up.

“Tim- Have you seen Michelle today?  Why are you calling me that?  And what is in the bag love?”  M’Baku calls after you.

You don’t answer as you head to his bedroom and get undressed, grabbing a shirt of his out of the dresser to put on as a night gown.

“You got a lotta questions for me, but I ain’t asked you a damn thing.  SO don’t worry about me, just go on your little date...with your family.  I’ll do your laundry while you’re gone, how’s that?”  You give him a tight smile as you crawl up in bed, turning on the TV on almost full blast.  

M’Baku’s belly jiggles as he chuckles to himself with his hands on his hips before going to check your bag.

“Get outta my stuff!”  You exclaim, getting up to pull his hand away from inside.  

This is an obvious trap as M’Baku swiftly wraps you up in his arms, staring you down with a cold, calculative expression.  “Where’s the gas can you ordered?  Bleach?”

You shrank in his grasp as you wiggled to make him put you down.  Damn that shared Amazon account.

You stand up to him defiantly.  “Where’s Daniella, hm?  She meeting you at that restaurant, right?”  

M’Baku’s expressions cracked into a smirk.  You wanted to rip those full lips off of his face.  “It’s about time you brought it up.”

You exhale sharply.  “Why?  Because I should’ve always known?  I should’ve suspected it a long time ago that you been two timing me?”  You are shrill as you crawl into his bed in the fetal position.  

M’Baku groans as he sit on the edge of the bed in front of you.  “Come on, my adored one.  Is that what you think of me?”

You shake your head, long faced.  “Of course not, until she called you.”

“But it was you!  You called me!”

“You didn’t know that!”

M’Baku laughs out loud, slapping his knee.  You push on his broad back with your feet to try and get him off the bed to no avail.  “Aye, you think I believed that wasn’t you but a random woman who attends my gym, that I haven’t even noticed has any female participants at the early hour I go.  And is also friends with a sibling of your friend who I have only seen less than a handful of times?”

“Then why did you lie and say you knew him for years?”

“I was trying to break you out of character!   But you fell into it, so I kept going along to pull the wool over your eyes instead.  Plus, your Japanese accent was borderline offensive.”  M’Baku says softly, bringing his hand to your cheek, brushing it with his thumb.

“IT WAS SPANISH!  Why would I SPEAK Spanish while sounding Japanese.”

M’Baku’s body shakes a little as his face strains to hold back his childish laughter.

“You are diabolical.”  You mutter, attempting to nip at his fingertips.

M’Baku gave you a gap toothed smile big enough to make the earth quake.  “Don’t blame me, your friends have gotten you into trouble with me plenty of times before but we make up, always.”

You huff as you turn to the TV to remain bothered.  “I’m not ready to make up.”

M’Baku lays his head back on your belly, talking to the ceiling.  “What if I told you I made reservations at the aforementioned restaurant and I had planned to  come by and pick you up to expose your plan. Hm?”

Your heart falls at this revelation.  You would’ve loved to have seen that happen, and that restaurant had bread and butter you would kill to consume right now, and pack extras in your purse.  But jumping to conclusions ruined that as it is your Olympic sport, gold medal winner.  

“M’Baku, I’ll give it to you that I shouldn’t have thought that you would two time me, especially without talking to you first.  But I still don’t like that you tricked me.  You drug it out on me too long.”

M’Baku rolls over, his head traveling up your arm to your neck, kissing behind your ear and humming.  The vibrations of his voice tickled you along with his breath but you ignore the dopamine flowing through you, lying perfectly still and unphased.

M’Baku picks his head up, tutting at you as he gets off the bed to head for the restroom.  Next sound you hear is the shower coming on.   You hope he doesn’t think you’re joking about not wanting to go out now because you were firmly in that frame of mind.

His 1000 count sheets caressed your skin nicely as you snuggled under his down comforter.  That coupled with the pitter patter of the shower left you fighting your eyelids to watch the TV screen and losing.

You were awakened by the shift of weight on the bed, M’Baku wrapping his arm around your midsection to pull up behind you, breathing in the coconut and shea scent of your hair before resting his hand fully encompassing one of your breasts.

Instinctively, you hold his arm tightly.  “I’m still mad at you.”

“Eh, I know.”  His lips graze your ear lobe, making you flinch.

“And I don’t wanna go to dinner with you.”

“The reservation time passed.  You slept through it.”  

“Did you go eat without me?”  You ask.

M’Baku’s hand moves to travel up your thigh.  “I’m not going anywhere when you’re laying in my bed.”

You start to feel warm all over, a familiar sensation begs you to give in.  “Whatever man.”

M’Baku’s groan rumbles through his body as he reaches under your nightgown/his shirt, grazing your fupa, playing in your tuft of hair between your legs.  “I don’t want to bed you while you’re angry…”

Your hand clutches his forearm desperately as your legs part slightly involuntarily.  “You think I’m that easy?”

M’Baku’s plush lips falls on your neck softly.  “No.  That’s why you are perfect for me.  I never worked so hard in my life to get what I want.”

His wide hand pushes your legs apart farther as they plunge between your thighs, palming your pussy.  His fingers finding your wetness with ease.

You gasp, hips bucking for friction against his hand.  “I think I need  a little more convincing…”

“At your service.”  M’Baku crawls under the covers.  You giggle as you lie on your back watching his frame under the blanket make mountains to get to your lower portion.  Feeling yourself spread underneath the covers without him in sight is exhilarating for you.  You feel his breath on you as he exhales with built up lust.  When his tongue spreads across your lips your back concaves in aching relief.  M’Baku’s tongue goes into a rhythm between your inner labia, flicking your clit every so often.  The pulsations of his pace threaten your sanity as you try to sit up, crawling backwards slightly, but M’Baku’s arms wrap around your hips to keep you in place.  

He seems to punish you for you resistance, focusing now solely on your clit, sending you into a tizzy.  Sounds like a Campbell’s chicken noodle soup commercial under the covers with all the slurping and lip smacking he shamelessly devotes to taste every drop of you.  You’re blubbering his name, peppering encouragements with begs for mercy as you feel your orgasm wash over your body.  All of the stimulation happening underneath the blanket elevated your pleasure sensors as you couldn’t see the source.  You had to see him or you would for sure lose your mind.  Pulling the blanket back, you see his cheeks hollowing out, maintaining pressure on your clit, eyes deviously trained on yours as he penetrated you with a couple of his fingers.  

This is much worse for you now, but at least you can take it out on him instead of the blanket.

“God, I’m cumming on your face right fucking now, Baku.”   You squeal, fingers gripping his hair as your hip flexors strain to hold back from crushing his skull .

He turns you lose of his mouth finally, crawling up to you to tongue your down, tasting yourself along with him.

“It seems our native tongues were pretty well together.”  M’Baku growls, pulling you down by your legs and he pulls his joggers off, dick unfurling full and ready.  “Have I convinced you yet?”

You claw above your head for something, anything to hold onto.  “You’re getting there.  It’s just, my gut is telling me something else.”

“I can fix that…” M’Baku licks his lips, reaching to take your shirt off over your head, squeezing you titties like fresh picked fruit.  You both groan from the touch, his eyes entranced by your nipples as they draw him in, working his neck to lap his tongue around your areola until its peak is reached.   

You lick your lips, biting them as reach down between the two of you for his dick, stroking it slowly.  You feel him expand in your hand as his moans concentrate on your nipple as he continues to suck, vibrating against your sensitivity.

He comes off of your breast with a pop, smiling devilishly.  “What are you doing?  I’m supposed to be pleasing you tonight, my love.”

“This pleases me, Baku.  This does.”  You whisper as you continue to ready him. 

M’Baku smiles into your mouth, kissing you as you wrap your arms around his neck, laying back as you wrap your legs around him, walls contracting excitedly awaiting his entry.

M’Baku maintains eye contact as you feel his tip pressing into you before the sensation of stretching you makes you break; closing your eyes and mouth falling wide as his girth slowly navigates your canal.

M’Baku mirrors you as your tightness affects him as well, wrapping his hand around your neck lightly before tonguing your tonsils out hungrily.  His hips activate against yours moving in shallow motions to prepare you before taking his strokes longer and longer until his entire length massages your insides beautifully.  

“Fuck, you feel good.”  M’Baku groans as he punches the headboard once for good measure, laying his body flush with your, kissing your neck and clavicle as his strokes picked up pace.  

You gasp as if you’re drowning, clutching onto his arm, kissing his tattoo band gratefully.  “Ohh, my gut is telling me something much different now.”

“What’s it telling you?”  M’Baku grunts in your ear.

“It’s telling me to marry the man attached to this dick.”  You say before your voice hitches from the wave of pleasure flooding over you, seizing your body up.  The sweet cacophony of his skin slapping against yours signals M’Baku’s enjoyment of you in this moment, trapped between your legs as stare into each other’s eyes threateningly.  He pulls out of you, rolling you over to give your ass a slap.

“You need to be on your knees then.”  M’Baku commands.  

You try your best to do as you are told, aftershocks between your legs threaten their stability as you get into position, rubbing yourself lightly as you lie in wait.  Your head is against the mattress as you watch him stroke himself as he plants his hand on your lower back, kissing your cheeks audibly, smacking them both after.

“I don’t think I have convinced you properly of my devotion, love.”  M’Baku says, rubbing the tip of his dick between your swollen labia.

You inhale sharply.  “I’m past that, don’t worry about that baby.  Just please-”

“Don’t interrupt me.  You talk a lot but not when it counts.  I want to hear you when I am inside you.”

You push yourself towards him, trying to geolocate the dick.  “Ok, I will, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”  M’Baku says, spreading your knees father apart before sliding back into you, causing you to illicit a guttural moan.  

“You fill me up so good, Baku.”  You inhale sharply as he works himself inside you roughly.  He bounces his hips against your cheeks with slow deliberate strokes.  Bam, bam, bam!  The force pulls you back on his dick with each thrust, eventually leading you to bounce against him on your own.

“Ah, that’s better.  Come to me like you came over here to tell me off.”  M’Baku says, rubbing your ass.

Biting your lip, you pick up your bounce, arching.  “I don’t play when it comes to this dick, Baku.  Don’t make me wreck you.”

M’Baku smacks one cheek enthusiastically, the sting somehow sweetens your pleasure.  “Show me.”

You give it your all, smacking your ass against his hips, tightening around him as you wind around his length expertly.  Although you had him right where you wanted him, moaning and cursing you, you get high off of your own supply.  The pressure building within you begins to release and you lose your form, holding your breath as you came.

M’Baku would not have that.  He leans over you, holding your head up by your hair.  “I want to hear you…”

He takes over, pounding into you while reaches between you to stimulate your bud.  You squeak, gripping the sheets as he commands you to breathe.  You swear this is impossible as he won’t stop digging you out and stressing your scalp with his grasp.  Then you aren’t sure if this orgasm was really long or another one came quickly but as you opened your throat, you let out an animalistic screech that scared the shit outta you but rocked M’Baku’s world.  He practically pounds you through the mattress to the floor as you both collapse, humping you into submission as he gets his last few strokes in you.  He warms your belly from inside with his release.

M’Baku gets off of you so you can breathe, kissing down your back and examining the mess you all made inside of you.  You jerk feeling him touch you, wiping the remnants down before slowly rolling off to the side of you.  He takes your hand kissing your ring again before looking at you lovingly.

You lay there, twitching every few seconds as you come down.

“Are you cold?”  M’Baku asks, getting up slowly to grab the previously discard blanket.

“No, of course not.  I’m just recuperating.”  You say between the natural jerks of your muscles, your heart still pounding between your legs.

“Any chance of Daniella coming back?  Her accent wasn’t so bad now that I think about it.”  He says, kissing your hand again.

You pick it up, laying it across his face for what was supposed to be a slap.  “Shut up, I’m still frickin embarrassed by that.  You owe me dinner though.”

M’Baku smiles, rolling on his side towards you.  “I do.  I shouldn’t be the only one eating tonight.  Plus, I can’t risk you incinerating my things.”

You lay there in silence, closing your eyes.

“Were you...really going to do that?”

You start to snore.

“(Y/N), honestly.”

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches.... Chapter 55 - A man at the door

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she's certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit…

Chapter 55 - A man at the door

[Blake, still on house arrest, gets an unexpected visitor (or two...)]

Blake gave a huff.

The past few days had seemed to drift by slowly, and at first, Blake had been as upbeat as she possibly could be, about being kept trapped inside her own home, for no good reason. For the idea that she would see Negan any day now, made her heart beat that much faster inside her chest, making al of this worth it.

But after six long days went by, Blake had come to the conclusion that perhaps the dark-haired Saviour was, in fact, not coming back.

Maybe he had found someone else to capture his interest….

Maybe he had been killed…

But Blake not wanting to dwell on either of these things, had finally realised that perhaps he just didn't have the time, or the energy to keep visiting her.

It was at least an hour's drive from the Sanctuary, and gas was like gold-dust in this world.

Perhaps Negan had finally realised that she just wasn't worth it.

And that, really, was no-ones fault but Blake's, after all.

She had been the one who had decided to leave…

To come here…

To leave him…

So why did she expect Negan, of all people, to keep his promise of a date to her.

He didn't owe her anything after all.

They weren't a couple. They weren't….well, anything.

He wasn't hers.

But these fact still didn't serve to make Blake feel any better.

She had been under house arrest for almost a week now. And being trapped under this roof with no one to talk to, was driving her crazy.

Blake was currently sat on her large couch, as the sun set through the window behind her, having read and re-read the same paragraph of her book four times now.

She was frustrated and bored, and longed for…just a walk….or a chat with someone. Someone who wasn't Rick at least…

The brown-haired man had called in to see her about three times in six days. With both of them getting more and more irritated with each other with each visit that passed.

What good was it doing keeping her here?

Stopping her socialising with people? How did that even make sense?

She had, of course, vented these frustrations with him. But he had just scowled at her and warned her that this was for her own good….that he needed to be able to trust her.

But Blake knew for a fact that in a community this small, it was likely that no-one would ever trust her again.

Rumour spread fast here, and she had seen, through shaded blinds, across the street, the residents of Alexandria stopping and pointing up at her house, gossiping….talking about her.

Not much had changed there of course, but it was having no visits from people she had considered her friends that had hurt the most over these long six days of confinement.

Apart from standing guard outside, neither Tara, nor Aaron, nor Eric had come inside to see her…to talk with her…

She knew they had likely been told everything by Rick and Michonne now, but that didn't mean they knew the full story. Blake still had her own side to tell and it made her infuriated that she had not been given the chance to say her piece.

The only person, bar Rick, to actually try and confront her about Negan's visit had been Rosita. Who had stood on the doorstep of Blake's house, with eyes full of seething fury.

But the caramel- blonde woman had not bothered to open the door…not wanting to hear Rosita's bullshit right now.

She knew Rosita had her own vendetta against Negan...for both Spencer and Abraham's' death…..but that was something that Blake was not prepared to get involved in anymore.

She wasn't going to sell Negan out to her, of all people.

For some reason Blake felt slightly threatened by her…having seen a questioning, doubtful sort-of look upon her features that first night of being back here at Alexandria. The brown haired woman obviously not believing that David could ever have been so harmful to Blake. And that doubt hurt Blake a lot.

But to everyone here of course, Blake needed to remembered, David had been charming, with his blonde hair and good-looks, always saying the right thing at the right time. A model citizen.

So why would people ever believe that Blake was indeed telling the truth, the problem being that she herself, had hid his abuse too well from everyone at the time.

The caramel-blonde woman turned the page in her book with another small huffy-sigh. But her green eyes were no longer moving, fixed to one spot on the paper….no longer reading….her mind too busy focusing on other things.

But she couldn't help but jump suddenly, as there came a loud knock upon her front door.

She gave a sudden tired moan, closing the book and tossing it down onto a couch cushion beside her and getting to her feet.

It was guaranteed to be Rick again….probably wanting nothing in particular but to sit there, sigh for a bit and throw stupid questions her way about exactly what she was doing at the Sanctuary all that time.

Blake today, was just wearing a white t-shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of tight-indigo jeans, with a large brown belt slung around her middle…but not having the luxury of going out, she was barefoot, not having bothered with shoes and socks.

She had tried, of course, to leave, it had taken her less than a day to attempt it. But Father Gabriel and Sasha who had been standing guard at the time, had firmly told her to turn around and go back inside, both of their hands moving to knives positioned at the waists.

Blake, at this, had just rolled her eyes.

Had they really seen her as that much of a threat? But she had reluctantly scoffed and gone back inside, slamming the door furiously behind her, not wanting to try and find out what lengths either of them would go to, to keep her inside.

But Blake, now, striding through her hallway once again, tugged open the door with a loud, irritated huff.

"Look, Rick," she said in a tired voice. "I've told you-"

But Blake stopped short as she saw who was stood on the other side, silhouetted in the hazy evening light.

"Tara?" Blake murmured, parting her lips.

Tara was stood there, in a navy t-shirt and jeans, hands dug sheepishly into her front pockets, chewing on her lip…her eyes full of something sad and imploring.

She was silent for a long moment, staring up at Blake, before finally opening her mouth….

"I thought we were friends," said the dark-haired woman in a sudden dejected voice.

Blake immediately gulped.

"W-We are," she said reassuringly, cocking her head to the side.

It was strange to see Tara like this…..after six days of only seeing her through a window.

But the dark-haired girl just shook her head.

"You lied to me, Blake," she said, a sadness in her voice now. "You told me you had nothing to with him… with Negan….and then he comes to visit you here?!"

Blake chewed on her own lip now…a strong sense of guilt passing over her….making her stomach churn violently.

"It wasn't important…" she tried to argue.

But Tara cut across her.

"Bullshit," she cried suddenly, her voice becoming higher in pitch and louder now. "Of course it's important. They killed Denise, and Glenn, and Abraham and Spencer….and you're just standing there acting like it's the most normal thing in the world to be shacked up with that asshole Negan. He bludgeoned people to death, Blake!"

Tara was breathing hard now, her chest rising and falling rapidly from her outburst. But Blake wasn't far off mirroring her stance, standing there with wide eyes, rubbing at her own arms, feeling defensive….her heart hurting now.

"I know…" she said in a quiet tone, her voice wavering as she spoke.

"No, you don't," said Tara shaking her head and staring at Blake sadly. "Because if you knew what was truly capable of, you'd have never invited him in , Blake. You'd never be involved with him at all. Because he's a monster."

But Blake gave a tiny frown, gulping again now, and shaking her head.

So many conflicting feeling rising within her, as Tara made to turn on her heel having said her piece, making to turn away.

But Blake spoke suddenly.

"But he's not," she said with a whisper, as she gazed back at her dark-haired friend. "He's not…"

Tara looked wide-eyed back at Blake over her shoulder, but it was a long, drawn-out moment, before she finally spoke again.

"I trusted you," she said despondently, Blake watching, as angry tears spilled from her friend's eyes.

But that was all Tara could manage to mutter, and she rubbed at her face, turned back around, and disappeared off down Blake's porch steps, without another word.

Blake gazed skywards suddenly, trying as hard as she could to stop the tears from spilling from her own eyes.

Shit.

What had she done?

She had pushed away one of her only friends in this world, for a man who she wasn't even sure was ever coming back anyway….

She let out a shaky breath now, making to turn around and head back inside. But before she could do so-

"Blake!" came a sudden voice from behind her drawing her attention back around.

She steadied herself slightly, to see the tall and handsome figure of Steve, coming bounding up the porch steps towards her, two at a time, looking like an excitable puppy.

He was tonight, wearing a light blue t-shirt, black pants, and was carrying a bottle of something in his tanned, muscle-bound arms.

Blake let out a small breath of air, still feeling like she wanted to cry right now, as she blinked at him.

"Oh..uhhh…hi, Steve…." she began, rubbing at her arms once more. "..I'm sorry, but now's not really a good-"

But Steve gave her a lop-sided sort-of smile, holding the large dusty bottle of wine out towards her.

"I just thought you might want some company, seeing as you're not allowed out," he asked tilting his head and offering her an encouraging look. "Thought you might do with some cheering up. And hey, what situation isn't improved by copious amounts of alcohol, huh?"

At this, Blake looked down her feet letting out a small laugh, as Steve's words lightened the mood slightly.

Well maybe a drink would help take her mind off of everything….and ease the pain of her conversation with Tara.

Because Balke now found herself hurting more than ever. Feeling oh-so alone.

Like she had no-one.

And so, Blake gave a small nod, before she could stop herself, taking the bottle gently within her grasp, and biting on her lip.

"Sounds good," she said taking in a deep breath, and gesturing for Steve to follow her inside.

It hadn't taken long before the pair of them had found themselves sat on two high barstools beside the island counter in her open-plan kitchen, already on their second glass of the vinegary-tasting, red wine.

Their conversation had drifted from one subject to another for the past thirty minutes, Blake relaxing a little and opening up in his presence.

They had so far lightly touched upon the subject of David…or Steve's own deceased girlfriend, pets that they used to own, and cities they had visited in their youth, as well as brief catch up on what had happened at Maud's drinks party last week, slightly ruined by the Saviours showing up just before it kicked off.

"So what did you do before?" Steve asked now, in a gentle voice, taking another small sip of his wine. "Y'know, in the real-world?"

Blake could have skipped all the chit-chat if she was honest and just stuck to the alchohol, but she knew she needed to be polite.

"I worked in an office," she said waving a hand dismissively. "It's wasn't anything special. You?"

But Steve smiled, scratching back of his neck with his hand. "I was training to be a PT- Personal trainer."

Blake gave a nod. Of course he was.

Steve was lovely, of course. But she had been there done that, with someone like him….with David….a handsome , carefree guy…..who had in fact proved to be the exact opposite of that.

Blake nodded….trying to think of something to say, but before she could do so, Steve had suddenly licked at his lips, staring over at her.

"I've missed not seeing you around lately," he commented, a little shyly. "I know Rick's trying to keep under wraps exactly why he's keeping you shut in here, but I just want you to know, that if you want me to try and talk to him, I can."

Blake gave a small smile.

"You're sweet," she began gently, shaking her head. "But-"

But before Blake could utter another word, Steve had, all of a sudden, scraped back his chair and got to his feet, moving around the island towards her.

"Listen," he said in an earnest tone, suddenly changing the mood in the room completely, and coming to stop at the still-sitting Blake's side, staring down at her. "I know I haven't been here that long...and we haven't known each other for even a month yet….but…hey, life's kinda short and, well…..."

Steve paused momentarily, licking his lips slowly once again, before sighing and giving a brief shake of his head.

"…oh….screw it-"

And with that, Blake felt her eyes widening into huge orbs, as Steve brushed back a strand of her caramel blonde hair from her face, leaning in suddenly towards her, his lips moving slowly to meet with hers.

Oh, fuck...

But before Blake could make a move to stop him, or even pull away…her heart hammering a drumbeat of fright inside her ribcage….

...a sudden loud and angry voice filled the room-

"Oh, you better be fuckin' jokin'!"

Steve suddenly pulled back from her, swinging suddenly around on this the spot, as Blake peered around his tall and broad form...

...only to see a person she recognised very, very well, stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

Negan.

He was stood, in his usual black leather jacket, white t-shirt, and black biker boots, with Lucille now grasped tightly within his gloved hand.

But it was his face, that made Blake's breath hitch slightly as she looked at him.

She could tell immediately that he was seething, his jaw tightly clenched and twitching with pure fury. His eyes were black and his chin lowered, looking more intimidating than Blake had ever seen him.

But Steve gave a frown at the dark-haired Saviour, eyeing him, looking a little confused. "Errr, can I help you?" he asked in a slow voice.

Blake knew that Steve, unlikely to have ever clapped eyes on Negan before, of course would not recognise him….but she prayed for his sake he would figure it out quicker that Negan would give him cause to.

But Negan ignored him, instead, his chocolate eyes were fixed on Blake.

"This fucking guy?!" asked the bearded Saviour with incredulous raised eyebrows, cocking his head to the side and arching his back with every syllable he spoke.

He pointed at Steve with the end of his barbed-wire covered baseball-bat, which unfortunately only served to make Steve's frown deepen slightly.

"Look I don't know who you are, but-" the younger man began in a sincere tone, but Negan suddenly turned to face him, narrowing his dark eyes.

"Well, holy fuckin' shit," said Negan in a loud, obnoxious tone. "Either we've not been introduced, or else I failed to make a strong fuckin' impression on you're the first time. Either fuckin' way I think I'd better refresh your goddamn memory."

Negan took a step forwards, gripping Lucille threateningly, and coming nose-to-nose with Steve.

Both men were tall, but perhaps Negan had an inch on the younger man….or maybe it just seemed that way…the way Negan loomed over him frighteningly.

"Uh..can we not…." said Blake with a tired sigh, pushing herself suddenly from the chair.

But both men ignored her, their eyes fixed on one another.

"I'm Negan," said the dark-haired man in a sudden low growling voice, as Blake saw Steve almost instantly give a gulp.

There it was…

That dawning realisation….that look of utter horror appearing in his eyes as he realised just who he was dealing with.

"..and this, is Lucille," continued Negan, raising the end of the baseball-bat so that it was level with Steve's face. "And…well….she is lookin' kinda thirsty tonight, don' you think?"

But Blake pursed her lips together a little angrily now, marching straight up to Negan.

"Nope…nuh-uh…" she said in a scolding tone, suddenly rounding on Negan and coming to stand in between him and Steve. "Not in my fucking kitchen, Negan."

And almost at once, the dark-haired Saviour turned to her, a hint of a grin twitching its way onto his lips.

He gave a small sigh.

"You really doin' this to save your fuckin' tiles, Darlin'?" he began, leaning his face into hers. "Or are you actually doing it to save pretty-boy's fuckin' face?"

Blake shot him a sudden unimpressed look, gazing up into Negan's dark chocolate eyes, as he leered over her, his free hand suddenly snaking around her waist possessively.

She tutted, as Negan spoke again.

"I mean, hell, I know I'm a bit late for our date, Peaches," he said flashing her his pearly white line of teeth, as her tugged her body firmly into his. "But did you really move on that fuckin' fast? With this fuckin' guy too?! I mean, jeez, he looks like the goddamn missin' link."

Steve at their side, merely looked on meekly, trembling in his shoes, as Blake lifted her hand to Negan's chest and gave him a gentle shove away from her playfully.

"Stop it," she reprimanded, flashing him reproachful look, before turning swiftly to Steve.

The man, around Blake's own age, now looked about six-years old, standing there, wide-eyes and apprehensive.

"You should probably go, Steve," she uttered, offering him a sort-of apologetic look.

And almost at once Steve nodded reverently, and eased past the pair.

But Negan, as cocky as he was, stuck out Lucille suddenly stopping Steve in his tracks before he could go anywhere.

"Oh Steve-y–boy," he said in a low growl of a voice, staring back at the young guy, with an arrogant grin, now plastered across his bearded features. And with that, Negan leaned up close to Steve's face intimidatingly. "If I ever fuckin' catch you tryin' to kiss her, or in fact, even fucking looking her way again, I'll be painting these fuckin' floor tiles a nice red colour with the shit that comes out of your skull. We clear?"

And Steve certainly looked clear, as he gave a dry sounding audible gulp, before walking swiftly away as fast as his legs could carry him. And it wasn't a moment later than Blake heard the door slam loudly behind him.

Almost at once she turned to Negan, and offered him a reproving look, tilting her head to the side, letting her long, caramel hair drift easily over her shoulders.

"You are such an asshole sometimes," she said shaking her head and pouting.

But Negan merely smiled, strutting over to her and leaning in towards her closely, his lips almost brushing hers, before he brought his mouth slowly up to her ear.

"Don't pout, Darlin'," he said in a low and husky voice, pressing a grin into her hair. "It makes Daddy wanna do very, very bad fuckin' things to you."

And with that, Blake couldn't help but let a moan of want slip quietly from her lips….as her fingers suddenly curled around the fabric of his leather sleeve….

...before Negan pulled back, letting his mouth finally find hers...

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in future chapters.

@collette04 | @attorneyl | @charoly | @princessmoonspunky | @mssharingisfun | @shimmerybutt | @yellatthetopofyourlungs | @daydreamsandchai | @onemorebeautifulnightmare | @arwa-alii | @letsdosciencekids | @maggiesourie | @blumenkind72 | @toloaughistolove | @alonna-oxoxox | @brebre149 | @hibernatingallyearround | @baked-potatoes  @elinyaes | @jmackie1983 | @starbabysparkle | @christynjay | @mwesterfeld1985 | @letseatandsleep | @xxqueenofisolationxx | @jml509 | @uselessdarylblog | @soursuckers | @padmeisgay | @waddiwasi44 | @karlbourbonismyhero | @lfsbitencourt | @toxic-ink | @laaadygisbooornex3 | @cutiedaij | @warriorqueen1991 | @ask-kakashihatake | @hayjeff54 |