#Negan imagines

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Previous part here

Words: 4,362 Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Warnings: language (duh, it's Negan), references to past violence, references to traumatic events, fear and anxiety, mentions of illness and mentions of character death (Lucille), sexual content Summary: Having healed up from Dante's attack, Y/N pays Negan a visit. A/N: This is the last part in this series. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's always bittersweet to conclude a series, but opens the door for more new writing. <3 Looking forward to more Negan in the future! <3 Thanks for reading!

Why were you so nervous? You were wringing your hands as you climbed the steps of the apartment building and let yourself inside the outer door. Your heart was fluttering in your chest like a moth around a lamp. You chewed on your bottom lip as you headed down the hallway and stopped in front of a door with a shiny brass “4.”

You pulled in a deep breath and knocked, shifting a bit nervously as you waited for a response. You didn’t have to wait long. Negan pulled the door open with a curious expression which quickly grew into a relaxed smile when he saw you standing there in front of him. The light in his hazel eyes took you aback.

“Hey, doll. Well, isn’t this a nice fucking surprise?”

“Hi,” you greeted him. “Is now a bad time?” you asked, laughing a little, nodding toward the paint splotches on his gray t-shirt.

“Not at all,” he smiled. “Anytime is a good time for you. Come on in,” he said.

Negan stepped back to invite you inside. “Thanks,” you replied, crossing the threshold. Your heart was still racing more than it should. Negan closed the door behind you and followed you up the hall. “Doing some redecorating?” you asked, stopping in the living room. You could see old sheets draped over some furniture in the next room and a few brushes sitting out on a paint can.

Negan swept a hand back through his hair. “I’m sure you’ll be surprised to hear this, but I’m not really a flowered wallpaper kind of guy,” he said. “I found some decent supplies so I thought I might as well make this place a little more mine.”

You paced over to the doorway and peeked into the next room. The walls were freshly painted with a deep, dark blue. “Mmm,” you hummed, nodding. “Bit different than your last digs. And the ones before that…”

“Different is a good word.” He sighed suddenly and you looked back at him. “Fuck me, it’s good to see you,” he said. “You’ve got no idea how good. I didn’t realize it but I really got used to seeing you at least at every meal,” he said. You watched his eyes drift up to the fresh scar on your forehead, to the still healing split in your bottom lip, and then down to the fading bruises on your neck. His smile faltered a little at the sight and you thought you saw a faint flicker of anger in his eyes.

“Are you going through withdrawal?” you teased him, trying to lighten the mood again.

“Are you implying that I’m an addict and you’re my drug?” he asked in a deep voice. He watched your eyes widen a little and then crinkle in a smile as you held in a laugh.

“Maybe. Is that… accurate?” you asked with a hesitant laugh.

Negan pulled in a deep breath and there was some ember burning in his hazel eyes as he let it out slowly, his attention a bit intense as it was fixed on you. “Maybe,” he said in a low voice, gravel on the edge of it. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at you again. You registered the lean but strong muscles of his forearms. They were peppered with tattoos, revealed by his gray t-shirt. You felt a burst of warmth in the middle of your chest.

You ducked his gaze (chicken…) and found yourself nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t come by sooner. Things have been busy with the council since Dante, um—‘opted out’,” you said. “And then I’ve still been having some symptoms, so… resting a lot.” You still felt a wave of fear and a cold chill every time you thought of the doctor who had nearly killed you. Sometimes you had nightmares about him bending over you, the look on his face, the feeling of being totally helpless as you struggled, of actively knowing your life was drifting away under his hands. Negan’s voice pulled you from that dark trail of thoughts.

“You don’t have apologize to me, darlin’. I’m just glad you’re here at all,” he said softly. “Did they figure out how he punched his ticket?”

“Not for certain. But Siddiq suspects a cyanide capsule or something similar from what they saw when they found him dead in the cell. Daryl had searched him right after—after I was in the clinic when he went to question him. He didn’t find anything, but something that small would be easy to hide.” Negan nodded, his brow knit and expression serious. “I just wish we knew why he—why he wanted Alexandria to fall so badly. Everyone here was nothing but kind to him. There were no clues about it at all.”

Negan nodded. “I don’t think that fuckwad was ever gonna talk,” he said seriously. “And I’m real glad he’s dead. I might have gotten into trouble again putting his limp-dick, coward ass down myself after what he did to you,” he growled. You could see his hazel eyes darken with rage again as he thought about Dante’s attack. And there was a deeper emotion bubbling beneath the anger, something he hadn’t yet even fully admitted to himself.

“Well—” you ripped your gaze from his, ducking your head once again (double chicken…), a soft pout on your lips, “better you don’t get in trouble again, Negan. You’ve only just gotten out.”

“I’m guessing I have you to thank for that,” Negan said. “At least, in part.”

“First of all, you have yourself to thank for that. People are seeing how you’ve changed. Secondly, I withdrew from the vote. Seemed like a… minor conflict of interest considering it was my life that you saved,” you explained.

Negan nodded. “How close was the vote?” he laughed.

You smiled at him. “Not as close as you’d think,” you said. Negan would have to accept that as an answer. You paced around his scantily furnished living room and looked into the kitchen. He hadn’t been in the new space long, only since you’d left the clinic which was perhaps a week and a half ago. Before that, he’d pretty much refused to leave your side and Michonne had given in and not asked him to return to the cell once Dante had… vacated it.

You were curious to see how he’d make the apartment his as he got settled. He did have some of the shelves stocked with books already, including the ones you’d given to him when he was still in the cell. You looked through them, running your fingers over the leatherbound spines, tilting a couple down to look at the covers. Negan watched you from his spot leaning up against the doorway. He liked the sight of you here, looking relaxed and (in his opinion) like you belonged. It was a sight he could get fucking used to. You suddenly glanced back at him and smiled, perhaps even blushing a little as you realized his eyes were on you. “Are you being nice to the neighbors?” you asked, pacing over to the couch and sitting down, sinking into it and making yourself at home.

“Neighbors?” he laughed. “I’m pretty fuckin’ sure Michonne purposely put me into an empty building. Not too many people want the big bad wolf living next door,” he said.

“Well, maybe that’s for the best,” you admitted. “For you and for them.”

“Oh, absolutely. I plan to be downright vile and filthy in here. It’s gonna be my hedonistic bachelor pad,” he joked. “Interested?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “At least you’re honest in your advertising,” you retorted.

His teasing smile faded and then he was staring at you again with that look on his face, the one that was so soft it raised goosebumps on your skin. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. You felt your face flushing again. “What?” you asked him, one of your eyebrows lifting.

He shook his head. “Nothing. I just like the sight of you on my couch.” He straightened up. “In fact, I’ve got just the fucking thing for the occasion…”

You watched curiously as he went into the kitchen and quickly came back with a wine bottle in hand and two glasses. “Where the hell did you get wine?” you asked as he sank down beside you on the couch.

“Doll, I’d think you would have realized by now how resourceful I am,” he smiled, popping the cork. He was just pouring the second glass when he stopped, knitting his brow. “Wait—should you be drinking this after what happened? How’s your noggin’ doin’?” he asked, looking suddenly deeply concerned.

“It’s been two weeks. One or two glasses won’t kill me,” you replied. “I won’t tell Siddiq if you won’t…”

“Oh, thank fuckin’ God. I’m clearly only plying you with alcohol to lower your inhibitions for some freaky deaky,” he joked, giving you another amused glance.

“Negan!” you scolded him, feeling your face grow hot yet again.

“Too much?” he laughed. “I’m kidding of course, doll. The truth is… I—I think I’ve got you up on too high of a pedestal to ever try something like that.” He handed you a glass and you were giving him a queer look. He only smiled. That damn charming, wolfish smile that made your stomach flip.

“What are we drinking to?” you asked him.

“How about—and I know this is fucking cheesy but—new beginnings?” he offered, still smiling at you, his hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“I’ll drink to that,” you said softly. You clinked your glass against his and took a sip, settling in deeply to the cushions. Negan watched your smile fade and his brow drew downwards, low over his eyes. The hazel seemed to darken toward brown flecked with gold.

“Something on your mind, doll?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Not really. Just—sometimes it still hits me how close I came to dying that day. And—and when I was fading… instead of seeing the faces of people I loved, I could only look up and see him. You know how people say their life flashes before their eyes when they think they’re about to die? Or they’ll see their loved ones smiling at them, remember good memories? That—that didn’t happen for me,” you mused. “I could only see him. And feel the complete overwhelming fear and powerlessness.”

There was a long silence where you stared down into the deep plum color of the wine in your glass and you twirled it in your hands. “Oh, well… It’s over now,” you sighed. When you were brave enough to look up at Negan again, you were shocked to find that his eyes were glassy, seemingly brimming with tears.

He wet his lips thoughtfully and then sighed, setting his glass aside on the small table in front of the couch. “My wife—the only real one—her name was Lucille,” he said. “I was a complete prick to her—useless as far as being a good fuckin’ husband. I cheated on her. Spent money we didn’t have. Lost my job. But she—she was the real thing. Beautiful and smart and fiery and kind. I didn’t deserve her.” His voice was deep and laced with feeling. “She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer…”

Your heart ached. His breath was shaky as he went on. It was staggering to hear this near mythical man’s deep voice laced with such tender feeling and regret.

“The world turned when she was in the middle of her treatment. I kept her going as long as I could, finding the medicines she needed and delivering her doses of chemo but—” he shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed. “In the end, I couldn’t help her anymore.” His voice broke as he went on, his eyes shining with tears. “I—I couldn’t do the one damn thing she asked of me at the end. She was ready to go and she wanted me to be... She—she asked me to stay and just be with her until the end and I couldn’t do the last of what she fucking asked me to do. I went running off after medicine which wouldn’t do a goddamn thing for her.” He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and drew in a long, steadying breath, blinking away the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. “I was helpless to stop it.” He looked right at you, meeting your vibrant eyes, empathetic and concerned, with his own. It felt as if he’d cracked himself open to the core at that moment and your heart started to race. He reached for your hand and you startled a little at his touch, pulling your eyes from his and looking down as he smoothed his thumb over the silkiness of the skin on the back of your hand and then over the lines of your palm, much as he had that day in the cell, when he’d saved you those raspberries… Your heart was pounding as he spoke again, your breath stolen. His voice pulled your eyes back to his.

“When you fell that day, right in front of me but basically unreachable on the other side of those bars… and then when he came in—” Negan gulped and shook his head. “I felt that same fucking helplessness all over again. I felt the same terror that I wasn’t going to be able to do a damn thing. I can’t even put into words how fucking scared I was that I was going to lose you right in front of me.”

You had to remind yourself to breathe as he went on.

“It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve actually wanted anything. Except maybe to die or get out of that fucking cell. Until you came along, darlin’.” Negan’s eyes flitted down to your lips and back up to your eyes.

You found yourself nearly frozen as he clasped your face in his and caressed your cheek, his eyes searching yours. You felt the soft pout of your lips part just a little on their own, without thought. It was driving Negan crazy. He tilted your head slightly down and your eyes fluttered shut as he placed a kiss on your forehead beside the new pink scar and still fading bruising. His thumb traced along your jaw as his fingertips wrapped delicately around the nape of your neck. His eyes drifted down to the faint yellow and brown bruises from the doctor’s hands. Negan’s head tilted and he leaned in to kiss the side of your neck and then the front of your throat and then the other side. You felt like an electric shock ran through you at the touch of his lips, soft and tender, but heating you through. You couldn’t stop the breathy exhale that left you as he pulled away and met your eyes again, his hand resting on the side of your neck and his eyes searching your face.

His eyes flitted down to your lips again, perhaps settling on the now healed split in your bottom one. There was something pleading in the way he was looking at you, but somehow still dominant or powerful. You couldn’t quite find the right word… Like it was possible that he could consume you like the flames of a wildfire, but you knew he wouldn’t, at least not entirely. You felt nearly lightheaded despite having had perhaps two sips of your wine.

“You missed a spot,” you whispered to him… and he smiled. And it crinkled the corners of his eyes and set them alight. And the last of your reservations and hesitancy fell away as he leaned in, more hurriedly this time, and kissed you, tipping your chin up so your lips met his.

He kissed you with an unmistakable fire and need and you found yourself melting under his touch, yielding to his hands as they combed through your hair, tangling into it, and slipped down to grip your shoulders and smooth over the bare skin on your arms.

You reached for him and arched into his waiting body, your arms looping around his neck. Your fingers found their way into his hair as you kissed him back more heatedly, giving in to the need you too felt. The need to be touched and kissed and held by him, the need and desire you’d been warring with inside yourself since you’d felt that first spark of attraction months and months ago. Negan wrapped an arm around you and pressed the small of your back toward his body, tugging you against him, and smiling as you returned the kiss with more and more heat. He let out a hum and then a low chesty growl as your teeth dragged over his bottom lip and you fought him for more dominance.

“Easy, doll,” he warned you, separating just enough to speak. “Have you got any idea what you’re toying with right now?” he laughed. The man had hardly been touched in years and with every passing second, he wanted more and more to completely collide with you.

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘doll’?” you asked, your voice breathy and low. You pulled back and met his eyes again and they were lust blown and starry, as you were sure yours were… but there was something else in them too. Some other something like tenderness. Heat was pooling in your chest and your heart was beating so hard and fast you were sure he could hear it.

Negan smiled. “I thought that had grown on you, but I guess we’ll have to find something more suitable,” he replied. He pulled back just a little and bit his bottom lip, considering you, that damn smile still on his face. “Hmm…” he hummed thoughtfully. “What do you want, baby?” His voice was deep and smooth as he said it, and you had a feeling the jerk knew exactly what that word would do to you.

A small smile started on your lips and then grew into a wide, jubilant one. Your arms were still around his neck “I want you to fucking kiss me again,” you said.

And he was more than happy to oblige, crashing his lips against yours in an almost bruising kiss. He could faintly taste red wine on your tongue and soon you were straddling over his hips on his lap, your hands clasping his face and running through his hair, drifting down to press a palm flat to his chest, his muscles rippling under your fingers. His hands drifted over the angles of your back and down to the curves of your hips and buttocks as he hummed into the kiss. Soon his hands hooked under your knees and he tipped you onto your back on the couch, suddenly leaning over you, caging you beneath him.

Both of you broke for a moment to catch your breath and Negan again kissed your forehead and your neck. His lips drifted across the scattered bruises there up to your jawline and then back to your lips. He pulled back again and caught your eyes, his expression intense but searching. “Is this too much too soon?” he asked you.

You smiled up at him again, still catching your breath. “Fuck no,” you breathed.

“Thank fuckin’ God,” he growled, before capturing you in a kiss again.

It didn’t take long before you were tugging his t-shirt over his head and he was freeing you of yours with an urgency of a man starved. He lifted you from the couch to press your skin to his as he peppered more kisses over your neck and down your collarbone, his fingers leaving hot trails on your skin.

Soon, the two of you were just flushed skin and crashed together completely, moving seamlessly with one another. Negan’s attention was intense and electric and it wasn’t long before he was pulling sinful and blissful sounds from you and you from him, your softness and curves driving him wild, every roll of your hips dragging him closer and closer to the edge. As you neared your peak and his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, his fingers laced between yours, and the only things you could hear were your own pounding heart and his ragged breathing as the two of you crashed over your highs together.

“Fuck me, baby girl,” he growled, burying his face against your neck and into your hair and breathing in your smell. He felt like his heart was about to burst.

You let out a light laugh. “I just did,” you purred into his ear.

He pulled back, chuckling, and smiled down at you beneath him. “You ain’t wrong,” he said, smoothing some sweaty strands of your hair away from your face. He leaned in and kissed you softly this time, gently. “Fuck,” he sighed, sweeping a hand back through his hair and separating his heated skin from yours. He reached for a blanket folded over the back of a chair beside the couch and spread it over you, hooking a hand under your legs and laying them over his lap.

You were chewing on your thumbnail, a little stunned and bashful suddenly as you looked up at him.

“You need anything?” he asked you, smiling at the blush in your cheeks. “Glass of water? Towel? Lobotomy?”

You laughed and cocked an eyebrow at him. “Lobotomy?!”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling. His hands drifted over your legs and drew circles on your hot skin absently. They smoothed down to give you a gentle foot rub as he looked over at you. “Because you must be out of your tits to fuck Alexandria’s Most Hated… I can’t believe you did that. Someone is going to have to give you a talking to.”

You shot him a half-amused look and rolled your eyes. “God, you’re right… What the fuck am I doing here?” you joked, starting to pull away from him and stand up.

“Nuh uh uh!” he laughed, catching you around the waist and tugging you back against him. “I am nowhere near done with you, baby,” he growled into your ear. Your top teeth dented into the pillow of your bottom lip. “How about we go get you cleaned up in a nice hot shower… and then get absolutely filthy again?” he asked, kissing your neck.

Goosebumps rose on your skin.

“And then you’re staying the night with me,” he murmured, brushing your hair to one side and kissing down your neck and shoulder.

“Oh, I am?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely, you are,” he said. “I want to hold you until the sun comes up. It’ll be the first good night of sleep I’ve had in six fucking years.”

You smiled to yourself. “Mmm… I guess that sounds okay,” you teased him, feigning indifference.

“‘Okay’?” he growled. “Oh, darlin’, you shouldn’t have said that…”

You let out a surprised peal of laughter as he lifted you into his arms and headed for the bathroom.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You awoke gently to sun filtering in through sheer curtains, staining the whole room a shade of medium blue. Negan’s warmth and weight was tucked up behind you, his arm draped over your waist. He rolled onto his back beside you as you stirred and you turned over to look up at him. Your hand landed in the middle of his chest and he gave you a peculiar look, a cautious smile on his handsome face.

“Morning,” you said, tucking yourself in against him more tightly, soaking in his warmth.

“Good morning,” he replied. You could feel the deep reverberation of his voice beneath your palm. “You doin’ alright, darlin’?” he asked.

“Hmm? Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked, a soft frown tugging at your lips.

“Well, I think part of me still expected you to roll over this morning and freak out at who was playing the big spoon,” he said.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and fixed a concerned expression on your face, looking up at him. “We’re going to have to work on your self-image, Negan,” you said. It pulled a laugh from him.

“Oh, are we, babe?”

“Yes!” you said seriously. “You have so much to offer. You’re more than your past.”

He sighed and gave you a more sincere, somewhat dreamy smile. “If you keep saying it, I might just believe it someday. Come here,” he said, pulling you back against him. You settled down under his arm, his hand landing on the dip of your waist. You tucked in against the crook of his neck. “Hey—one thing though. You can’t tell Daryl what we did on the couch last night. Or against the wall of the shower. Or at the side of the bed. Or the foot of the bed. Or—”

“Negan,” you sighed.

He laughed. “I’m just saying—he’s got this whole protective brother thing going on with you and I would like to remain alive and intact.”

“I can’t believe we’re in bed together right now and you’re bringing up Daryl,” you retorted.

“Hmm. That’s a fair point. Should we add another to my list of offenses?” he said, his hand drifting down to your thigh beneath the covers.

You laughed, heat already flushing in your chest and face. “Several, I think…”

“Several? You’ve got it, baby doll…” The End

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - when the world was good, negan had always visited the strawberry shack after work and when the world ended, he didn't expect to find the place still up and running.

warning - smut, gloryhole, creampie, swearing, daddy kink, breeding kink.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Negan stared shocked at the building still standing as though it had never been touched by the apocalypse. The sign still flashing ‘The Strawberry Shack’, no sign of the dead around. He was brought back to when the world was fine when the dead didn’t walk. He remembered finding this place and heading inside, finding the perfect woman each time. That woman being you, you were the one he’d cheat on his wife with. You’d take away all his thoughts and feelings. He wondered if there was anyone inside, so with large strides, Negan heads toward the building and enters. Stopping short as he sees the same woman sitting at the front desk.

“Hiya hun, nice to see ya again. What would you like?” She taps her perfectly manicured nails against the counter, staring at him as she waits for his response. 

“Sex, sugar. But I got no cash.” Negan watches, waiting to wake up and for this to be a dream. 

The woman waves her hand, “Don’t worry, hun. It’s free of charge for our favourite customer.” She smirks, “You know where to go.” He nods, walking toward the door and he surveys the room. It seems that only one person is working, and he’d recognise that arse anywhere. 

“I see you’re still working, sugar. Even with the hell going on outside.” He walks closer, eyes focused on how you clench around nothing at his voice. “How I’ve missed you. Shit.” He groans, feeling his cock harden and throb. Negan grabs the flesh of your arse, giving it a good squeeze before he reaches down and plays with your clit. “Fuck, sugar. You’re already so wet for me.” He leans Lucille against the wall as he reaches down, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants before pulling out his cock. Giving it a few strokes, watching precum leak for his swollen tip. “So, fucking hard for you.”

Negan lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down as he collects your juices before he slowly pushes into you. His eyes practically rolling to the back of his head, leaning one hand against the wall while the other grips your hips. “Jesus, sugar. You’re so fucking tight!” He groans, sliding deep inside of you before pulling back out and thrusting in, repeating the movements over and over. “Shit!” His balls slap against your clit, causing you to dig your nails into the bench beneath you, your walls tighten around him, sucking him in deeper. 

Your moans fill the room alongside the slapping of skin, you wiggle your arse, pushing up against him, causing him to go deeper inside of you. “That’s it, baby girl. You gonna let Daddy breed you, huh? Pump you full of my cum like before? You miss being full of me, sugar?” Negan’s words cause you to clench around him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yes! Yes! Please breed me, Daddy! Pump me full!” You whine, your toes curl as you cum, coating Negan’s cock with your juices. He grips your hips harder, burying himself deeper inside of you as he cums, coating your walls with his white cream. You sag, sinking into the bench beneath you.

“Fuck me, sugar. That was the best fuck I’ve had in a long time. Might have to take you with me.” Negan groans as he gently pulls out of you, tucking his cock back into his jeans and pushing his cum that leaks from your cunt back in. You let out a huff, your lower half tingling. “I gotta go, sugar. I hope we meet again.” He pinches your cheek before grabbing Lucille, swinging his bat over his shoulder and walks off, giving the woman at the front desk a nod before leaving, heading back to his sanctuary.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[chelseypprimrose]

Cheerleading Practice / Negan x Reader / Pre-Apocalypse

Warnings: daddy kink, oral (female receiving), soft!dom Negan, stepdaughter/stepdad relationship, use of one degrading name (slut), shower sex, masturbation(female), facial.

think that’s all of them, let me know if I missed any.

I wrote something similar to this many moons ago but I just can’t get enough of shower sex with Negan lol 🤍

“And five, six, seven, eight!” You called out to the rest of the girls, them following your routine down to a T. With the big game right around the corner, you’d scheduled more practice sessions with everyone, wanting to make sure you nailed this performance as the final was always the most important and had the biggest attendance numbers of all the games during the season. Your squad was made up of 10 girls including yourself, being elected the cheer captain at the start of the year. You were lucky to have such a lovely group of friends that you had made through cheer squad and they always gave you 100%.

You watched as the girls ran through the routine for about the 50th time, giving pointers on some of the moves that were a little harder to master. You gave a demonstration of a harder move that required all the girls to execute, the pyramid. Your friends, Kate and Leigh, had a hold of your legs as your feet were situated on their hands as you raised your arms, beaming smile on your face.

The music rang in your ears as you were thrown in the air being caught by your girls when you gracefully came back down. “Yes! Brilliant girls, you were all amazing! I think we are ready, next session will be on Thursday, please remember to practice at home in the mean time, get home safe!” You told everyone as they all gave each other a round of applause and grabbed their bags to head home. You grabbed your own belongings and headed towards the girls bathroom in the corner of the school hall.

Opening your locker up, you placed your gym bag inside, grabbing your white towel and toiletries bag to head towards the showers, turning the dial on as the water started to heat up. Taking off your cheer uniform, a small red tank top with the schools logo on the front and short matching skirt, you chucked them to the side, now fully naked.

Stepping into the shower, you took your hair out of ponytail you’d put it in before practice, letting your fingers run through to get out any kinks and tangles out.

With the water spraying on you, your mind wandered to your activities with Negan a few short weeks ago. You knew it was wrong, lusting over a man who not only was around 10 years your senior, but also with your mother. You let out a deep sigh, you couldn’t help but want him even more. You couldn’t deny how handsome he was, how charming he was, how he lit your body on fire just being around him. You felt your body getting hot, just replaying the way he’d made you cum all over his fingers, the feeling of nirvana when he kissed your neck, hitting that sweet spot at the base. You closed your eyes, leaning on the back of the wall in the shower, your hands running down your body until you got to your slick heat between your legs, you needed release, your fingers coming down onto your clit, moving in slow circles. Your other hand squeezing your erect nipples as you pictured Negan above you as he had been those weeks ago.

You let out a soft moan, your fingers quickening, wanting to avoid being caught in such an embarrassing predicament.

“Shit doll, is this a post training ritual?” You gasped as you opened your eyes at lightening speed, the very man that had caused you to be doing this, the one you’d been thinking about, right in front of you with a massive grin covering his features. “Negan?! What the fuck, this is the girls bathroom? What if someone saw you come in?” You shouted, trying to push past him to grab your towel that was on the top of the cubical that surrounded the shower.

“Calm down, I made sure that I was extra fucking careful. I had to come find you after watching that performance.” Your eyebrows raised in a confused look. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice me watching you? Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you in that tight little outfit, got me hard as a rock that shit did, doll face.” He pushed back your wet hair, exposing your breasts to him in full view. “Want to give me a little one on one performance right now?” He asked, his hands going from your hair to your breasts, playing with your nipples, your heat getting slicker than it already was, his eyes meeting yours.

You went against every better judgement in your head as you pulled him closer, your hands grabbing the bottom of his tight fit black T-shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid movement. His hands placed on your neck, capturing your mouth with his as you helped him step out of his gym shorts, hitting the ground with a wet slap.

“God, this is all I’ve been thinking about for days, I need you Negan.” You mumbled against his lips, you couldn’t get enough of him. “I know doll, you haven’t made it easy on me. All I wanted to do at breakfast was pull down your little shorts and take you right there on the table. Shit doll, you are like a drug I just can’t quit.” He replied, picking you up by your thighs and slamming you against the shower wall, his cock now full erect, leaking with pre cum.

He slid down to his knees, you on your tippy toes focusing on not slipping over on the wet floor, the water raining down on you both. Negan’s face between your legs, he gave small kisses to the inside of your thighs, the anticipation building up right in the middle of your core. You whimpered, trying to grind your pussy into his tongue, him resisting by gripping your thighs. “Now, now sweetheart, good things come to good girls who wait.” He let out a small chuckle, turning his focus back to your clit, every stroke with his tongue feeling like heaven.

You pulled him up from his position on the floor, your mouth connecting to his, tasting yourself on his lips. “Fuck, daddy! I need you inside me now. Please.” You moaned out, as he turned you around, the front of your body smashed against the cold wall of the shower. He lined himself up at your hole, his swollen tip teasing you by running across your opening. “You always look so fucking sexy like this doll, begging me to fuck you raw.” He whispered in your ear, finally filling you up with his hard cock. You whimpered at the feeling, pleasure already taking over you before he’d even started moving.

His hips started to rotate, thrusts starting off slowly, stretching you out like no one else had been able to, like maybe no one ever would be able to do. Negan picked up the place, your hands coming out to steady yourself against the wall, his hands grabbing in your hair and yanking it back, so you were looking up to the ceiling. You tried to move one of your hands down to your clit, Negan grabbing your arm and holding it in place behind your back. “No touching yourself doll, I want your pleasure to come only from me.” He growled out, his breathing quickening, little groans and moans leaving his lips as he slammed into you. His other hand leaving your hair to come down hard on your ass, the slapping sound filling the room along with the beautiful sound of your skin slapping together as your bodies came together.

You clenched around his cock inside you, your vision becoming blurred as you let the pleasure build up inside your core. “Daddy I’m so fucking close, please!” You could feel your heart beating faster, a small sheen of sweat coating your forehead, washed away by the water still running down both your bodies. “That’s it my dirty girl, cum around daddy’s cock for me.”

That was the only permission you needed as you let your body go, the waves of pleasure hitting you like a ton of bricks. You let out moans that would make a porn star blush, just feeling euphoric as your orgasm faded just as quickly as it had come. You gave a small push of Negan, his dick leaving you, making you feel empty. You turned to face him, willingly getting on your knees as he started to jerk his cock at a quick pace, the white, hot spurts of cum coating your face with a dozy smile on your face as you licked off the remanence off your lips, the salty taste satisfying you.

“Goddamn, that’s the hottest sight I’ve ever seen. You dirty little slut.”

Negan throwing his head back, closing his eyes, letting his body shake and his hands resting on the sides of your cheeks. Both your breathing came to a slower rate, your hands gripped on the outers of his thighs, standing up back to your feet, Negan looked back at you with a deep smile on his face.

“Shit doll, you! You are going to be a fucking problem for me.” He laughed, pecking you on the side of your face.

[rottenimagines]

THE FAVORITE GIRL

Summary: You, Negan's favorite ''wife'', have been captured after trying to escape. Now you have to face the consequences of your actions.

(Little disclaimer: English is not my native language, but I try my best, I promise x.)    

.

.

It had been a week since Y/n had escaped; a too-long time for someone like her to survive alone in the woods. Although all her effort was useless in the end, since she was captured by a search party anyway.

She was Negan's favorite woman, after all. He wasn't going to let her go that easily. He knew very well that she would not get very far by herself. And he was right...

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.

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Two of his men drag her to Negan’s office, where he has been waiting for their reunion for a while.

‘‘Well, well, well... Look who's back!’’

He says, as he immediately sets down what he was doing and jumps up from his desk to greet her with a triumphant grin. When he's right in front of her, he motions for his men to leave, and so they do. Both are left alone.

He smirks, looking her up and down, and lets out a mocking whistle before speaking again.

‘‘Well, my dear, it's good to see you again, still in one piece. You look terrible, though. No offense.’’ 

He grabs her chin and tilts her head up. ‘‘Tell me, Y/n, where were you?’’

She glares at him, ‘‘away from you.’’ 

He grins and pulls her closer to whisper in her ear, ‘‘you know you can’t escape from me...’’

‘‘You’re an asshole...’’ 

Negan rubs his face against hers. She can feel his hot breath on her skin.

‘‘You should be grateful, y’know? I saved you from the life you were living,’’ he stares her down. ‘‘I’m the reason you had three meals a day. I’m the reason you slept in a warm bed. I’m the reason you’re breathing right now.’’

‘‘I don't want any of those things anymore. I don’t want anything from you.’’

He steps away a bit, surprised by her attitude. He remains serious for a few moments, analyzing the whole situation before his eyes.

‘‘You wanna be the dinner of one of those dead pricks, darling? Is that what you were looking for out there? ‘Cause, you know, all this little mischief of yours has been stupid as hell. You know that, right?’’

He stares at her as if she’s the stupidest person alive, and she stares at him back as if he's the worst.

‘‘I'd rather be one of those monsters' dinner than yours.’’

The playfulness disappears from his face; he looks at her with a dead stare this time.

‘‘You must be joking...’’ his cold, dead stare last another few seconds, then he laughs. 

‘‘You’re just like every other woman in this world, aren’t you? You say one thing and do another. You agree to be with me, and then you just run away like a scared puppy.’’

He tries to get a more passionate reaction from her; he wants to provoke her to put an end to this new cold attitude of hers that is starting to make him mad.

‘‘Think what you like...’’ is her only response.

‘‘Oh, I know you’ll come back to me’’, he kisses her cheek, ‘‘...because you have no choice, right?’’

‘‘We’ll see.’’ She is willing to face the risks. 

A look of disappointment slowly creeps across his face. 

‘‘If you wish to be treated like the rest, fine. I’ll remove you from your pedestal and treat you like everyone else. No benefits. No special status. Nothing at all. Is that what you really want, Y/n?’’ He pauses a moment, while uncomfortable thoughts arise through his mind. ‘‘Just because of a little... misunderstanding?’’

She nods, impassively. 

‘‘Very well, then’’. He nods and puts his hands on his hips staring at her sternly. ‘‘You are on bathrooms cleaning duty starting tomorrow.’’ 

 He is willing to make her life as difficult as possible from now on as punishment for running away and, of course, to get her back to him.

 ‘‘...Fine.’’ 

‘‘And one more thing, Y/n. If you ever try to run away again...’’ he puts a finger under her chin, lifting her head to look at him. He leans in, close to being nose to nose, ‘‘you’re dead. Got it?’’

She nods.

‘‘Good girl.’’ He leans in and speaks in her ear: ‘‘You’ll come back to me, honey. You'll see, you'll see’’. His words come out in a husky whisper. 

Negan kisses her cheek before letting her go.

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.

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[band--psycho]

Negan x Fem!Reader- Mr Protective

So I'm trying to get some of my dialogue prompt stories written - this one is with dialogue prompt 145!

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Warnings-Gun, gun violence, Negan being negan

“We’ll if it isn’t my favourite wife” 

Wife. 

The words cut through me like a knife.

I wasn’t his wife. And he certainly wasn’t my husband. The only reason we’re ‘married’ was because my father bargained me in trade for his own safety. 

My fathers now chained to the fence outside the front of the Sanctuary now, as a walker. 

Though that’s not why I wanted to kill Negan. 

No.

The community we were with were meant to remain safe; that was my only condition for marrying Negan, and he agreed, reluctantly so yes, but he agreed. 

Yesterday, whilst Negan was away, I overheard  a handful of Saviors discussing my old community, talking about how they’d killed the entire community on Negans order.  

Which is why, instead of greeting Negan with words; I simply raised my gun and aimed it at his head. 

“Y/n? What are you doing?” Negan asked, I could see the confusion flicker in his eyes before that signature cocky smile grew on his face. 

It was as though this was all some type of game to him. . 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I snapped back; watching as the Saviors surrounding us pointed their guns at me.

Dying.

It should have scared me; anytime before this it would have. 

But now as I stood here, there wasn’t a flicker of fear inside me. 

“It looks to me like you’re pointing a damn gun at these good people,” laughter laced his face as he pointed Lucille at me before motioning to the crowd of people around us. 

Was he threatening me?

Was this another thing that was meant to scare me? To intimidate me into going back to being a well behaved ‘wife’?

I shook my head, keeping my hand steady,  “The only person I’m pointing a gun at is you.”

“Sir?” Simon questioned; his eyes locked on me. 

“Don’t,” Negan answered back; turning to look at Simon before meeting my eyes again. The harshness in his voice caught me off guard. 

I was one of his wives, he had five others, I wasn’t important, I was replaceable and yet here he was preventing his men from shooting me, knowing full well I could pull the trigger before anyone could have shot me.

The lightheartedness soon returned to Negans voice as he stepped closer to me,“It’s fine, Y/n here just has her big girl panties in a twist.”

His words made a chorus of low chuckle escape from the lips of people around us.   

“Gimme the gun, sweetheart,” 

It was an order. He was ordering me to give him the gun. And when I didn’t I swear I saw a hint of pride in his eyes as he pressed his forehead against the barrel of my gun. 

“You really gonna shoot me, baby girl?” His voice was quieter now; but still loud enough still so that everyone could hear him; his eyes once again met mine as if he was trying to read my mind, trying to guess my next move. 

“Yes,” I answered coldly with my finger on the trigger. 

I could shoot him now and it would be over, all of it would be over.

So why hadn’t I shot him yet?

Why was he still standing in front of me? 

“Y/n-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before a gun shot was fired. 

For a brief second, I thought it was my gun, I thought I’d finally pulled the trigger. But Negans face remained intact.Though his eyes filled with some foreign emotion I’d never seen before but I knew that look from other people's eyes.

He was worried. 

I couldn't understand why.

That was until I felt a burning sensation in my side; a sensation that only grew. 

There was so much blood, it didn’t take long before it covered my entire hand.

I never believed it when people said that in the last moments of their life, they saw their life flash before their eyes. I still didn’t. Because when the pain from the shot became unbearable and I fell to my knees, I didn’t see my life flash before my eyes. 

I saw Negan, taking the gun from my hand. 

I thought he was going to shoot me….I think part of me hoped that he would. 

But he didn’t. 

He was aiming behind me. 

He was angry; I could tell that much by the redness of his face and rage in his eyes. He was saying something, I couldn’t make out what, everything I was hearing sounded distant. 

Everything except another gunshot which seemed to echo around me. 

Darkness was slowly encapsulating my vision; I could no longer see the Saviors around me.

That was until Negan knelt down in front of me; and wrapped his arms around me,  his mouth was moving but I had no idea what he was saying. 

His face was the last face I saw before the darkness finally consumed my vision.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @impala1967dwinchester @thaliastregona @little-diable @book-dragon03 @munsinner @mrsnegan @jdmsgal @howlingmadlady @https-lorna @wheelerdixon @dilfsandtherapy @bestbitchsstuff @cherryheartssblog @darkdevasofdestruction @fangirlsfandomsss

[negandarylsatisfaction]

[SUMMARY: Everleigh is one of Negans wives who becomes pregnant. Negan becomes overly protective of her.]

“What the hell are you doing out here?!” He pulled you up his eyes looking all over you to make sure you were alright.

“I was just- I was trying to get something to eat. No one was there and-“ before you could finish his eyes changed.

“What do you mean no one was there?” Obvious anger in his voice.

Negan and Everleigh

It was time for your monthly check up when the doctor would give each of you a pregnancy test. The amount of sex Negan was having with all his wives, it was a surprise that none of you had come out pregnant yet. He always pulled out, yet each month you were always nervous to get a positive. The doctor gave each of you a stick with your name written on it, once you finished you all left the stick on the table beside him. Standing in a straight line waiting for the results, the doctor had a timer sitting beside him. Each minute feeling like it dragged, you had your hands behind your back when finally the alarm ticked. Quietly he looked over the tests before turning to face you and told everyone they could leave. Just as you were walking out, being the last one in the back you were stopped by the doctor with a slight tug.

“You can stay” you looked up at him confused as your heart began racing in your chest. Did this mean you were pregnant? The doctor smiled as he closed the door.

“Congratulations, Everleigh…you are indeed with child.” Your heart dropped as the words you always dreaded to hear were spoken before you.

“We will arrange for you to wait in Negans office until he arrives so that he can speak to you” not saying a word you followed as one of his men led you to the office. The door closed behind you but you couldn’t find it in you to sit and relax, pacing around the room you waited for Negan to show.

A little while later Negan returned to the sanctuary, Simon with a big grin on his face welcomed him.

“Boy do we have some news for you!” Negan looked over at him curiously as he placed his bat over his shoulder walking alongside him.

“One of your wives are pregnant”

“Shit” Negan stopped in his tracks facing Simon.

“Who?”

“Everleigh” he raised his brows pleased with what he was being told.

“Where is she?”

“Waiting for you in your office” Simon flashed him his teeth through a smile before pointing in the direction you were in.

Continuing to pace back and fourth you couldn’t believe what was happening. You froze at the sound of the door knob turning and quickly sat down waiting for him to enter. Once he did you swallowed anxiously as you heard his boots click loudly against the ground as he made his way to you. Sitting up straight you watched as he walked to the couch across from you, he stood silently staring right at you before he sat down.

“Hello, doll” excitement in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Hello” you spoke softly as he licked his bottom lip. Rubbing his chin with his gloved hand he didn’t take his eyes off you. He could tell you were nervous, of course you were. The thought of being pregnant made you sick, you had no idea what Negans reaction would be…what any of this would mean for you.

“So…looks like ol’ Negan had a slip up huh?”Negan leaned forward, carefully studying your expression, his words spoken slowly. He waited to see your reaction but you didn’t say a word.

“You’re allowed to speak, doll.” What was there to say? You looked to the side fiddling with your hands as he took a deep breath.

“How are you feeling?” He asked trying to break the ice.

“Fine” you finally responded. He raised his brows, crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

“So no sickness so far? Hm. Youre hungry?”

Silently you shook your head. He didn’t say anything for a moment, the silence killing you as he stared at you.

“I gotta say, out of all my wives….I was excited to hear it was you” he grinned. His reaction some how calming you just a little.

“Now..I’m gonna need you to follow a few extra rules ” he stood up as you looked at him.

“You’re no longer sleeping in the room with the other women, I won’t have that. You can sleep here…with me starting tonight-“

“Here?” You blurt out catching yourself by surprise.

“Is there a problem?” He asked raising a brow.

“No-“ you quickly responded shaking your head.

“Good. You’ll also be allowed access to extra food and doctor visits.

Negan and you never really spoke, every encounter was always based on sex. So to say you didn’t really know each other was an understatement, all you did know was that he was feared. Hell, when you first arrived at the sanctuary you never planned to sleep with him, but being convinced by the other women you gave in and once you did, you didn’t regret it. There was many perks that came with being Negans wife and you enjoyed each of them. You were never treated wrong by him but you would see how he’d react when others upset him and it was terrifying.

“What about the other women?” You asked softly.

“What about them?”

“Will they know? Will anyone else know?”

Negan looked as if he thought about it for a moment before crouching down to your level.

“I think we should keep it between us, doll. A few of my men will know so they can help you with anything you might need if I’m not around.” He assured you.

You took a deep breath and looked down, Negan could tell you seemed worried. Tilting his head looking at you he wondered how you felt.

“You scared?” His question making you look up.

“A little” you admitted in a whisper. For the first time you saw a glimpse of concern in his eyes as he placed his hand on yours.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be well taken care of.” He unexpectedly pulled you in and kissed your forehead before leaving the room.

A few weeks had gone by and of course symptoms began to show. Nausea and cravings all at once, you didn’t know what to expect. Some days were worse than others and this is when you saw a side of Negan you never knew he had. One day just outside the doors you could hear him roaring at the top of his lungs, disciplining one of his men. You had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was, Negan was furious. You sat down on the couch as nausea crept up on you, Negan slamming things just outside the doors as you leaned on the coffee table in front of you until you heard the door open behind you. Quickly you sat up but didn’t turn back, attempting to hide the discomfort you felt you took a deep breath and placed your hand on your stomach. Thankfully the nausea beginning to subside. Negan walked in instantly stopping in his tracks at the sight of you on the couch. For just a moment he forgot that you were in there, pregnant hearing every thing that had just taken place. He walked towards you pressing his lips together.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that” he spoke surprising you by the change in his tone of voice. A sudden calmness compared to the monster he had just sounded like. Hesitantly you looked up at him, he looked disheveled and out of breath, whatever it was that angered him surely got to him. He almost had a look of embarrassment that you had heard any of that. He stepped closer and bent down as you looked down at your hands. Placing his hand over yours you looked up at him.

“I promise you wont hear anything like that again” he assured you. He could see the fear in your eyes.

“Ok” you whispered as he stood up and silently took off his jacket. It was strange seeing how protective Negan became of you, yet you still were afraid to trust him and he knew that.

“Did you eat?” He looked back at you as he took off his glove.

“No-“

“What do you mean no? Didn’t someone come and leave you food?” He almost charged to the door ready to walk out and look for whoever was responsible for not doing their job.

“Negan wait-“ you stood up quickly as he stopped and looked back at you.

“I was given food, I…I just haven’t felt good today” he slowly turned back to you rubbing the side of his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You weren’t here” he slowly walked towards you, you stood silent wondering what he would do or say.

“Then you have one of my men send for me, there is always someone outside this door. You let him know and someone will get me and-“ he snapped his fingers “-here I am. Understood?”

You nodded, he looked down at your stomach and turned back to his bed.

One symptom Negan couldn’t help but notice was how much more you wanted to have sex. You were too shy to initiate it being that Negan always came to you when he wanted sex but he could easily tell by the look in your eyes. The way you squirmed in bed moving your hips around the second he was beside you, he loved it. His favorite part was not having to pull out and you honestly loved it too.

As time went on Negan did just as he said he would. Each week you felt a new symptom until one day you felt movement. You stopped what you were doing and looked down at your stomach waiting to feel it again. Negan was behind you at his desk writing things down when you felt another movement and gasped making him look up.

“What is it?” He stood up quickly and walked over to you as you continued looking at your stomach weirdly.

“I think I felt the baby move…it just feels funny” he stood closer, you could tell he was curious.

“May I?” He raised a brow, you nodded and watched as he carefully placed his hand on your stomach. The two of you waiting patiently right before another sudden movement.

“Holy-“ Negan whispered making you laugh just as he felt another movement again.

“Shit” he looked down at where his hand was then back up at you.

“That doesn’t hurt you?”

“No” you shook your head in laughter. This moment the two of you shared seem to break down another barrier you held against him.

Slowly you felt more comfortable around Negan as time went on.

Before you knew it, your belly was no longer fitting in your top. Negan began letting you use his shirts and so you did. One evening he was about to enter the room and stood at the door way silently watching you look at your belly in the mirror. You stood on one angle and the next watching how much your belly had grown.

“My my my…” Negans voice made you jump turning to him, quickly pulling your shirt down.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart….” He spoke with such charm yet a part of you couldnt help feeling intimidated.

“That was a beautiful sight” He smiled as he walked in the room before you noticed there was blood on his hands. He walked past you as you silently looked him up and down before he turned to you and noticed the way you were staring at him.

“What?”

You didn’t respond and instead kept looking at the blood on his hands all over his knuckles. He followed your eyes and cursed at himself in a whisper.

“Listen, sweetheart, it’s not what you’re thinking” but he could see you didn’t believe him.

He sighed and looked down before making his way back to you, his hands behind his back.

“What’s on your mind, doll?”

“Nothing..” you shook your head as a sarcastic grin appeared on him.

“Ah Ah, don’t lie to me. You know I don’t like that. Tell me the truth, it’s just you and me here” he sounded sincere yet you were still afraid to tell him what you were thinking. No one ever told Negan their opinion.

“Everleigh…” he was serious, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I don’t think I should” you whispered.

“Everleigh…you’re going to be the mother of my child for fuck sake, tell me”

“I…I don’t like how you do things” you took a deep breath as he quietly listened.

“The violence…your punishments…is that suppose to continue with a baby around? What if we have a son, and he grows up seeing his father do what you do…would you want that for him?” He stood silent, he didn’t seem angry, he crossed his arms and gave you a nod.

“You’re right” shocked by his response you didn’t say a word.

“It will change…I promise you.” Never had you seen Negan ever give anyone a chance to speak let alone agree.

Spending a few days alone after Negan went to get a few supplies with his men, you overheard a couple of his men talking next door. You could hear them laughing together before leaving the house completely. It was your first time without someone outside your door as Negan had assigned them to do. Since staying with Negan you never had to get anything yourself, all you had to do was ask whoever was outside and quickly you received whatever you wanted. For some reason, no other man took their place today. Rubbing your stomach you could feel the hunger you had and wasn’t patient enough for another man to come to your door. Deciding to go out yourself and get food you didn’t think twice of it, you knew exactly where to go and would be right back.

It was strange walking out on your own, there was many people around, you could hear chatter from afar. You could feel eyes on you as you walked, some shocked to see your growing belly as you walked silently. You looked up and noticed the gates opening with trucks coming in, you figured Negan had returned. Blocking the sun with your hand trying to see the entrance clearer, you noticed the men were yelling as they entered. Something seemed wrong and before you knew it gun shots went off. People around you panicked as you turned to run back to the room accidentally getting knocked down on your hands.

Negan hiding behind his truck shot as many people as he could, thankfully there weren’t too many. Having been followed back by another group Negan was ready and well equipped with his crew to stop all of them. All of the men were dead as Negan stood on his side with the Saviors, silently staring straight ahead to make sure no other man appeared. Giving a signal to the men to close the gates he turned walking back when he noticed you on the floor hiding behind a table.

“Everleigh..” he whispered rushing towards you, you looked up with fear in your eyes.

“What the hell are you doing out here?!” He pulled you up his eyes looking all over you to make sure you were alright.

“I was just- I was trying to get something to eat. No one was there and-“ before you could finish his eyes changed.

“What do you mean no one was there?” Obvious anger in his tone.

“I..I don’t know where the guys went. They had just left…I was too hungry to wait” you explained as he looked behind him as the men sealed the entrance off. He didn’t say a word as he took you by your hand and bought you back to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him he charged towards the bed.

“Negan?”

He didn’t speak as he pulled a box out from under the bed, you silently moved closer as you noticed what he was taking out of the box. A steel iron that looked as if it had already gone through hell. You knew what he used that iron for, you had heard the stories about it.

“Negan what are you gonna do?”

He didn’t respond only making you anxious.

“Negan?” He grabbed the iron and headed for the door before you quickly blocked it.

“Move out of my way” he spoke in a deep whisper.

“No” you responded shocked with yourself.

“Everleigh god dammit!” He slammed his fist on the wall beside him making you jump.

“Put that thing away” you spoke softly still slightly hesitant to say what you truly felt.

“Oh honey, you think you’re gonna stop me?” He stepped closer to you staring straight down at you.

“I said…put it away” you spoke a little louder.

“Do you understand what could’ve happened right now, sweetheart?” He furrowed his brows, the anger in his eyes still very present.

“You could’ve been killed all because the fuckers who were suppose to be outside of your room at all times to get you whatever you needed weren’t there. There’s a reason I had them there, I never know what shit can happen here and I don’t want you in the middle, kind of like you just were right now” he raised his brows.

“So you’re gonna burn their faces off?”

“Would you rather me use my precious Lucille? Get out of my way.”

“No”

“Everleigh!” He roared loudly.

“I said put it away!” You suddenly screamed taking him by surprise. He was so surprised he stood silent.

“Put it away” you repeated in a calm but stern manner.

“You promised me this would change…how is this changing?”

“You could’ve been hurt-“

“But I wasn’t, Negan. Please…if you care about this baby at all you would stop” you could tell what you said got to him. He pressed his lips together and silently walked back putting the iron back in the box.

“Happy?”

“Thank you” you walked up to him unexpectedly planting a kiss on his cheek. He looked down at you amused placing his arm around your waist.

“This baby is giving you some balls” you both laughed before he leaned in and kissed you softly. He caressed your face gently, he was happy that you were speaking up more, Negan wanted you to be as comfortable as you could be and that included speaking your mind.

[justanoasisimagines]

My girl

Summary; Negan's in search for you. However, he find's a group of men staring and making comments about you instead. Pairing; Negan x Female Reader WordCount; 529 A/N; Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Negan marched through the sanctuary, head raised hair as crowds parted, some bowed their heads in respect. Negan smirked as he remained focused on his journey.

Negan pulled open the door to see you away from the others, sitting with a piece of canvas in front of you. He knew he'd find you here, Whenever Negan couldn't locate you, you were usually off painting something. Negan purposely sent people on runs to find your materials.

Negan stopped on his journey to observe you from afar. You were something special. Your body, your mind and your heart all complimented each other perfectly.

He loved the way you reacted to him. He'd never been with a woman who was tuned into him the way you were. You knew when to discourage and encourage. You spoke your mind. Negan appreciated every minuscule detail about you.

There was always something to learn about you. Negan turned his head at the sound of men talking loudly. Men liked to bust each other's balls. He did it constantly with Simon, Dwight and a few others. However, his face falters.

They all appeared to be gawping at you. Negan wasn't blind. He knew you were attractive. Beautiful wasn't a strong enough word. A Goddess to walk on the earth. He understood why they were staring at you.

Negan stared at you often. However, they were not allowed such rights. You were his. That meant no one could look at you. No one could touch you. No one could make any lewd remarks. Only he had the power to partake in any of those activities.

Negan turned in the direction as he sauntered towards the group of men. Now it was his turn to have some fun. Negan was about to teach them a lesson. One they would never forget.

"What's everyone starin' at?" Negan called out as he was met with sheepish grins. A response of 'nothing' as the men suddenly glanced down at their meet.

"Well, it sure as shit doesn't look like it. It looks like you are staring at my girl."

"We weren't" Negan smirked. It was one thing to stare at and make comments about his girl. It was another to lie to him to his face. Negan's hand clenched. Someone was going to pay.

"Now I know you're fuckin' lying. I watched you standing over here, makin' remarks. So how about you all grow a pair and start telling the truth."

No one answered, however, Negan needed to set an example so he threw a punch at the closest man. He landed on the ground with a thump.

"I'm gonna say this once. From now on, I want no one lookin' at her. No one making comments about her. In fact when she walks by I want you to bow your heads. Also as of right now, you're currently in debt to me, when I say jump, you do whatever I say no matter what. You're also gonna keep an eye out for art supplies so I can supply my girl with an art room."

The men solely agreed, and Negan turned around with a smug expression on his face. He still had it.

[ghostboneswrites2]

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[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 7,252 (oof, this one got long!)

Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader

Reader pronouns: largely unspecified (but Negan does refer to reader as doll and darling which could be considered more feminine terms of endearment)

Warnings: language haha, frightening scenarios, references to past violence

Summary: Months have now passed since Y/N began taking on Negan as a "project" and the reader suggests an even longer run outside the walls.

A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the parts on the Negan Master List.

Previous Part here!

“It’s been months,” you said. “There hasn’t been a single time that I’ve felt unsafe, and both of you know I never let my guard down.”

Daryl was leaning up against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was serious but largely unreadable. Michonne leaned forward on the table, considering your words.

“We need to think long-term here. Are we just going to keep him locked up forever? Or is there some version of this where he gets out and either integrates as much as possible or—or goes on his way?”

Michonne sighed and shook her head. “I’m not sure any of us have the answer to that yet,” she said.

“I know. I still don’t,” you said. “I’m not sure what the future looks like for him, but I know we have to do more than just letting him out to pick tomatoes every once in a while. So, that’s what I’m doing. And with you two stuck here dealing with the wall and the kids—and the pantry and medical supplies starting to run low, well… let’s kill two birds with one stone.”

Daryl sighed and straightened up. “I ain’t gonna say I like it, but I trust ya and I’ve seen your judgment play out too many times to doubt it. If ya think it’ll be alrigh’, then—well, ‘m good with it. But ya gotta show us exactly where you’ll be and when to expect ya back in case we need to come lookin’.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll mark it all on the map. We should be able to make it out and back in a single long day. Leave early. Get back late.”

“And no weapons for him unless it’s an absolute emergency,” Michonne emphasized.

“Of course,” you agreed.

“Alright,” Michonne nodded. “When will you go?”

“Tomorrow,” you said. “I’ll get everything ready today.”

“I’ll walk ya out,” Daryl drawled, watching as you grabbed your bag and shouldered it. “Listen—” he started.

You looked over at him and smiled, already knowing you were about to get a worried Daryl Dixon lecture. “Mhm?” you prompted him.

“The hell are ya smirkin’ about?” he growled, his brow furrowing.

“Nothing,” you laughed. “Go ahead.”

“Well—if somethin’ happens out there… if it comes down to you or him…” he trailed off.

Your brow furrowed deeply now to match his. “It won’t,” you said seriously.

He shifted anxiously. “But if it does…”

“Daryl. It’s not going to,” you insisted.

He nodded, pulling back. “Wish I could go with ya… I’d feel better about it.”

He relented and nodded, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Okay. C’mere.” He pulled you into a hug and you smiled as he folded you up against him. “I just want ya to be safe, is all.”

“I know. I will,” you agreed.

“I know. But it’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“You’re shitting me, right?” Negan said, his breakfast still in his hand, not a single bite taken.

You stared at him and then let out a dry laugh. “That’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting,” you said.

“Well, shit. I mean… a real scavenging trip? That’s what you’re saying?” Negan said. He ran a hand back through his hair and stood, pacing a tight circle in his cell. “Who else is going?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why? Someone specific you want me to invite? Want me to ask your old pal Gabriel? Or wait—Eugene?”

He laughed but looked vaguely shocked. “Well, I’m sorry but I’m just—a little fuckin’ surprised, doll.” You’d eased some on scolding Negan for the pet names over the last few weeks and generally just ignored them now unless it was something really egregious. (You’d nearly hit him for calling you ‘princess’ one day, so he had at least not tried that again.) He seemed to enjoy taking full advantage of you turning a deaf ear to them now. “Just you and me? Out there?” he clarified.

“You and I have already been out there alone how many times, hmm? I don’t see why this should be any different,” you said, digging around in your pack.

“Well, it’s farther. I mean, farther for you to get help if—”

You straightened up and fixed a skeptical gaze on him. “If what? If you suddenly decide to attempt to murder me? Attack me? Steal the car and leave me out there? I’ll still be armed and you won’t. Besides, I’ve been through more shit out there than—”

He laughed again. “I was just gonna say in case any number of bad fuckin’ things happens out there. And we both know that they do.”

“Yeah. You used to be one of those bad things, remember?” you shot back quickly. He sighed at your deflection and you couldn’t help but laughing. “I am having to sell this harder to you than I did to Michonne and Daryl. What is going on? What are you worried about?”

“I’m not worried! Although, it would be fuckin’ nice to have something to defend myself with in case of the dead or unexpected assholes…”

“ ‘Unexpected Assholes’?” you repeated. “What is that, your one man play?” you quipped. “Let me guess—you’ll be playing yourself.”

Negan couldn’t resist a hearty laugh at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s good. You’re fuckin’ hilarious as usual, doll.” But he looked serious again the next moment. “Anyway, about me having some way to defend myself…”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” you said lazily. “I’ll let you have, like, a stick if you want,” you smirked. He only stared back at you. “I told you that I’ll protect you! You think I’m just gonna let a walker wander up and bite you?” There was a thick silence for a moment where he just stared back at you.

“I’m not worried about one walker. I’m worried about all the random, rogue shit that can happen out there.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to trust me! Do you not want to go or what?” you pressed him, perplexed at his reaction.

He paused, drew in a deep breath, and let it out. Then that damn smirk showed back up on his face, sending his hazel eyes sparkling. “Are you asking if I want to go spend some quality time alone with you? Just the two of us? No one to interrupt… Completely at your mercy for whatever you may decide to do with me… or to me…”

You rolled your eyes, catching onto his tone immediately. “That could include killing you,” you cautioned him, eliciting a low laugh from him. You hated that the deep gravel of it gave you goosebumps. You did your best to ignore it.

“I don’t know… I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get away with me where nobody can easily interrupt us,” Negan said. “I mean, shit. No need hide your true intentions from me,” he grinned. “I am absolutely 110% on board with that. Use me all you want, doll,” he grinned, now gripping the bars of his cell door. “God, I’d love to be fuckin’ used by you.”

You crossed your arms and fixed a stern look on him, hoping that your face wasn’t flushing bright red. You cleared your throat. “Sounds more like wishful thinking on your part. It’s a scavenging run, Negan, not a fucking romantic getaway,” you said.

“Are you sure you said that right? I think you meant romantic fucking getaway. Emphasis on the—”

“Negan! Stop! I will cancel this whole thing! Jesus Christ!”

That shit-eating grin was still on his face and he laughed again, thoroughly pleased with himself. “Alright, alright. I’m done. I think…”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Scavenging. Run.” you repeated.

“Yeah, we’ll see, doll. We’ll see. So, where are we going exactly?”

You forged ahead, ignoring his last comments in favor of moving on. “There are some old houses and other structures we’ve only ever done a cursory search of. Probably not going to make a huge score but there’s always something left behind, something hidden. But who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky,” you said.

“Fuck me, I’d love to get lucky…” he laughed again.

“Negan!” you exclaimed again.

“Alright! I’m sorry,” he chuckled.

“So, are you in?” you asked, slightly exasperated.

The two of you were separated by only the iron bars and a small buffer of space, hardly a foot. He was still smiling at you and you hated that the thought that he was handsome flickered through your mind. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought it—but the thought always surprised you, like it came from somewhere outside of yourself, not by your conjuration alone. “Fuck yes, I’m in,” he answered, interrupting your thoughts.

“You promise to listen to everything I say? If I tell you to run, if I tell you to hide—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I promise,” he said, smiling. “If I don’t, you’ll shoot me in the fuckin’ knee or some shit. Can we skip the pep talk?”

You gave him a stern look but unlocked his cell and tossed him the spare pack you’d brought. You dug into your own bag and handed him some supplies, including some outerwear. He tucked them into his bag and looked up at you expectantly. “Where to, warden?”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help the tiniest smirk. “Car is right outside. Let’s get going. The sun is starting to come up and it could be a long day.”

“Great. Can I drive?” he quipped, shouldering his bag. You only shot him a look that made him laugh again, but he saw the slight curve at the corners of your mouth.

The drive to the crumbling ruins of the neighborhood was slow, but uneventful. The sun was up and filtering through the trees overhead as you and Negan climbed out and started toward the buildings. You were quiet, focused, and Negan couldn’t help admiring your efficiency and care as you went about your mission.

The two of you stopped at the edge of the crumbling street, concealed in some taller brush. The street was overgrown with weeds and lined with dilapidated houses. It was almost eerily quiet.

“Alright,” you breathed quietly. “We’ll go building by building, down one side and back up the other. Pay attention to signs of walkers or people,” you said softly, gripping the straps of your pack. “Follow my lead and stay close.”

“You got it,” Negan replied, slipping his hands into his pockets as he followed alongside you toward the first house. “I gotta say, it is really uncomfortable being out here without a damn weapon. More so here than in the woods,” he commented, his eyes shifting around to study the other buildings, scrutinizing for a sign of movement. “I feel like I’m naked,” he said.

“I guarantee—” You paused to tap on the wall of the house the two of you were standing beside, listening for anything inside. “You’re not. If you were naked, I would not be this fuckin’ calm, Negan,” you said, half-distracted.

He chuckled and licked his bottom lip, smirking.

“What?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t think that sounded how you meant it to sound,” he laughed.

Your cheeks flushed. “Oh, shut up. You know what I meant!”

“Your brain is saying one thing but your lips are sayin’ another, darlin’,” he teased you.

You rolled your eyes and pulled the front door open, stepping cautiously inside. The smell was of mildew and stagnant air as you stepped inside. A heavy layer of dust and dirt coated everything; overturned furniture, books standing or tipped over on shelves, a stately chair still positioned in front of the fireplace. Somewhere deeper in the house, water was dripping. You had your gun out and started clearing the lower floors. Negan ghosted behind you.

You made for the staircase to check the upstairs when there was a soft thump overhead. Your eyes and Negan’s went to the ceiling.

“Alright… maybe someone is home after all,” he commented, giving you a concerned look.

“It’s gotta be a walker,” you said. “Maybe an animal.” You proceeded cautiously toward the staircase.

“Hey,” Negan said softly. “Be careful.”

You turned and looked at him for a long moment before you started up the stairs. He seemed genuinely on edge, worried. He stayed right on your heels as you climbed the steps, the muscle in his jaw tensed as his teeth clenched together.

You cleared two bedrooms and finally came to a closed door at the end of the hall. As the floor creaked under your boots, there was the sound of more movement behind the door. You reached for the door knob, gun ready in your other hand. You took a deep breath and quickly turned it shoving the door open and aiming the muzzle of your pistol inside.

An opossum let out an angry hiss and then scrambled up and out of a broken window. It had been rooting around in some debris on the floor. A huge sigh of relief escaped you and Negan watched your shoulders sag. You laughed a little as you turned to look back at Negan. He gave you a relieved look.

“I gotta be honest,” he said. “I fuckin’ hate this shit. I feel completely helpless without something to use if something bad happens. What am I supposed to do if you need help?”

You gave him a somewhat sympathetic look, thinking about how it would feel to be in his place—the unknown behind every locked door with no knife, no gun… completely vulnerable and reliant on someone who was essentially his jailor. “Well,” you said. “I have a feeling if something really did go wrong, you’d figure something out.”

He considered your words for a moment. “Yeah. I hope so.” He thought about what he would do. What if they ran into some bad men? Bad people? What would he really do if you were in danger? He didn’t have to think hard to know the answer. Anything. He’d do anything he needed to. The thought seemed to dig deep into the center of his chest and sit there, heavy. It was almost a surprise. “So, now what? House is clear.”

You holstered your gun again. “Now, we search. See if there’s anything left. A lot of people hid things, right after. There’s always something left behind. You take the upstairs. I’ll go through the downstairs.”

Negan nodded his agreement and turned back to the trashed bathroom, the sound of your steps fading away down the staircase. He searched every room, every cabinet, every closet, under beds, under loose floorboards, but came away with nothing of interest except for half a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. He headed downstairs where he could hear you rummaging around in the living room. “Hey,” he greeted you, stepping over the threshold. You were standing completely frozen now at the shelves, looking down at something. “Y/N?” he said again. You still didn’t seem to have heard him. He wandered closer. “Find something?”

You startled a little and turned to look at him, a picture frame in your hand. “Oh. No, not really. You?”

“Half a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I stuck it in my pack.” He nodded toward the frame. “What’s that?”

You looked down at it again. “It’s nothing. It’s just this—this family portrait. I wonder if they lived here—” you said thoughtfully. Your voice seemed to drift away a little. “Or what happened to them, you know? Did they make it? Were they ever safe again after the outbreak?”

Negan looked on with a thoughtful expression, his dark brows furrowed over his eyes. He nodded and moved closer to get a better view of the photo behind the cracked glass. He smiled at it, chuckling a little. “Hmm. Mom, Dad, and three kids. A perfect nuclear family,” he said.

“Looks like the 90s,” you laughed. “Check out the clothes.”

“Yeah, they probably went down to JCPenney to take advantage of the fancy photography studio,” Negan remarked. “Dad looks like an accountant, doesn’t he?”

“Mmm, I’m getting more of a bank manager vibe. Mom probably stayed at home when the kids were little and then goes back to work as a teacher once the youngest is in kindergarten,” you replied, now smiling a little too.

Negan ran a hand back through his hair thoughtfully and cocked his head. “You know—I was a teacher,” he said suddenly. “I’ve never really told anyone that since things went to shit. Kind of lessens the mystique,” he laughed dryly.

Your eyes snapped over to his face, one of your eyebrows arching gracefully with the question on your face. He laughed again. “Yeah, I know… hard to believe, right? How could such an asshole be a teacher?” he said.

A slight wince flickered across your face for a brief second at his words, as if you didn’t like the way he’d talked about himself. But that couldn’t be right… “What did you teach?”

“I was a high school P.E. teacher,” he said. “Coached some of the school teams too. Basketball. Football.”

“P.E.?” you repeated. “And you’re not even going to make a ‘physical education’ joke?” you teased him. “Wow. Are you feeling okay?”

He laughed lightly. “You beat me to it,” he said. He glanced back at the picture and sighed. “Should we get going? Lots of buildings to search,” he said.

You nodded and stared down at the picture for another moment.

“What’re you doing?” Negan asked, watching you take the back off the picture frame. You fumbled with the backing and then removed the family photo from the damaged frame.

“I just—feel like someone should remember them, you know?”

Negan’s gaze was fixed on you, flickering over your face. There was something so soft in it at that moment that you felt slightly unbalanced. You distracted yourself by bending to slip the photo into your pack. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said gently.

You deflected, laughing as you shouldered your pack again. “Oh, you’ve got no idea,” you said sarcastically, again ignoring the heat in your face. “Come on.”

The two of you went on, searching each home and several stores, working your way down the block and partway up the next. You’d managed some good finds, including a hidden cellar that clearly had belonged to a survivalist type (who had apparently “opted out” and his corpse still watched over the hidden entrance). You’d have to make a few trips to the car in order to get all the supplies and gear back, or otherwise figure out a way to get the car in through the overgrown side road. The two of you piled the finds in a safe place in one of the rooms on the main floor, stacking Rubbermaid tubs full of helpful items in neat piles.

“Fuck me,” Negan sighed, setting the last one on top. “Well, when you’re right, you’re fuckin’ right, doll. There’s always somethin’ left behind.”

You wiped at the sweat near your hairline. “Yeah,” you sighed. “Not bad.” You had a satisfied smile on your face. It felt good to do something concrete that would help people back home. You glanced out the window, assessing the light outside. It’d taken quite some time to get things moved up from the cellar and you wondered if you should keep searching the rest of the houses or call it a day. “I think it’s starting to get late,” you said, remarking mainly on the way the light already seemed like it was fading.

“Mmm,” Negan hummed, going to the front bay window and looking out. His eyes had been searching the street all day, vigilant, as if waiting for some psychos to suddenly burst out of one of the houses. But the only signs of inhabitation or squatting you’d found were clearly from long before, now covered in dust and debris or otherwise moldering in damp corners or on top of filthy mattresses. Now, as you were busy drinking from your canteen, Negan’s shifting suddenly stopped. “Hey, doll—I’m no meteorologist, but those clouds look like bad fuckin’ news.” It had been overcast all day, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that this was something else.

You capped your canteen and went to the front door, your brow now furrowed heavily to match his. You pulled the door open and peered at the sky. Ominous didn’t even begin to cover it. There was not a sniff of wind at the moment and the air seemed to hum with electricity. Negan appeared next to you in the doorway, squinting at the low and heavy sky.

“I’m pretty sure when the sky turns fuckin’ green, there’s some bad shit coming,” he said. He glanced over at you.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. “Yeah. Yeah, green sky is… tornado weather. Fuck,” you muttered, glancing back at the pile of supplies.

“What do you want to do?” Negan asked.

You sighed, pushing a hand back through your hair. “Even if we head back to the car now, we probably can’t outrun that… the old highway is FUBAR in some places. It’s not like we can drive 60 mph all the way back to Alexandria. And that would mean leaving all these supplies here.” As if on cue, the complete stillness in the air broke as a rushing wind approached like a tidal wave, creaking and cracking in the trees and swirling dust and dried leaves across the open ground until it reached the two of you standing on the porch. Your hair lifted and blew back from your face.

“I’ll ask you again,” Negan said, speaking louder now over the roar of the wind, “what do you want to do?”

You hesitated, glancing from him back to the quickly approaching menacing clouds. The little light left was fading fast. “Fuck,” you muttered again. “I—I think we’re better off weathering it here than in a car out there,” you said.

“I definitely agree with that,” Negan said.

“Once the storm clears, maybe then we can try to get the car in here and load up the supplies and get home. We’ll be delayed a bit longer than expected but—I think it’s the best move. Hopefully, we’re just stuck a couple more hours.”

Negan nodded. “Alright. Where are we holing up? Because this shit is about to kick the fuck off,” he said, surveying the street again.

“Here is as good a place as any,” you said. “There’s a basement and almost all the windows are intact or boarded up. Come on. Let’s get inside.”

Negan followed you in and shut the door on the wind. Your eyes were already on him when he turned around again. He was trying to decode your expression but it was largely unreadable. He unshouldered his pack and set it on the floor, taking a seat on the stairs across from where you were now leaning up against the wall. The ambient light from outside was quickly waning and before long you could hear raindrops start to pound the roof. They increased in size and then seemed to be blowing across the roof in waves of water.

You could hear the huge cottonwood trees creaking and cracking in the wind. You tried to peer out through the boarded slats over the window to see if they were dropping branches but it was too dark. Behind you, Negan pulled out a flashlight from his pack and clicked it on. It had grown extremely dark with the heavy storm clouds gathering and unleashing the torrents of rain. You were still standing right by the window, looking out, when he spoke again.

“Hey, maybe we should move away from the windows, doll,” Negan said, worried. He didn’t like how close you were standing to all that glass, even if it was mostly boarded over. His voice was deep and resonant in the space between you with just the raging background noise outside.

“Yeah. Maybe,” you said. You bent to grab your pack when you suddenly heard a loud thud against the side of the house. You straightened up, your eyes widening. Negan had heard it too, his eyes were narrowed, ears strained, listening. It was difficult to hear anything over the storm.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice breathy. “Some debris blowing against the house?” you asked.

Negan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, standing from his place on the steps and going to the doorway of the room the sound had seemed to come from. The roaring storm seemed to reach new extremes. The wind sounded like a train bearing down on the little dilapidated structure the two of you were sheltering in. Rain and hail lashed the siding and the roof. There was another thud from outside, this time on the window.

“There. Again,” you said, anxiously pacing toward Negan to stare into the room. His flashlight was still on. Another thud, and then another. You squinted, trying to distinguish anything through the boarded windows but it was too dark. Then, a flash of lightning shot the sky outside with blinding white and you couldn’t help the soft gasp that left you at what it illuminated.

“What?” Negan asked urgently.

You couldn’t speak. You just reached for the flashlight. Negan looked down as your hand landed on top of his. He could feel you trembling slightly and for a moment he was so shocked by your touch that he didn’t understand what you were doing. With your gentle grip, you directed the yellow beam of the light slowly to the window. As it came to rest between two of the boards and shone through the glass, Negan registered that there were walkers clawing to get in, rotting faces pressed to the glass, bloody fingertips, snapping teeth. Dozens. “Ho-ly fuck!” he exclaimed, jerking the flashlight off the window and quickly shutting it off. You and Negan stood in the dark for a moment, neither of you moving, now keenly aware of the pounding noise and dull thuds on the exterior of the house, cutting through the wind and rain. Were you imagining it or was the pounding increasing, getting louder? More frequent? Negan could hear your breath beside him in the dark. “Well, that shit was straight out of a fuckin’ horror movie,” he remarked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “Where the fuck did they come from? It sounds like we’re surrounded.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. Seems like they rolled in with the storm.”

“Maybe they can feel the barometric pressure changes or something. Almost like a migration,” you commented, feeling your heart rate and breathing finally start to slow down after the shock of discovering the herd.

Negan chuckled beside you and you heard him shift. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Eugene?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Okay… so, now we just have the storm of the century and a fucking herd to deal with. Great. Okay… let’s think…”

Negan finally clicked his flashlight on again but kept it pointed at the floor. “This place seems sturdy but maybe we should barricade ourselves better.”

You glanced toward the basement where you’d discovered the hidden cellar. Your eyes next drifted toward the stack of supplies. “Basement is pretty much ready to barricade thanks to that dead survivalist guy, but if they do break in we could be trapped down there for fuck-knows how long.”

“Not sure we have any better options. We don’t want to be upstairs either. We’re sure as shit not going out on the roof in this if they get in and if there is a fucking tornado and we're on the top floor—” Negan broke off.

“Yeah,” you agreed, nodding. You dug into your own pack and pulled out a headlamp, quickly turning it on dimly. “Grab some of these. They have food and medical supplies, and some other gear,” you said, grabbing one of the many Rubbermaid containers and heading toward the stairs down to the basement.

“Man, I’m so glad we carried all this shit up here,” Negan joked, picking up a stack of two big containers.

“Sorry. Next time I’ll consult my crystal ball,” you quipped, but right then there was the sound of shattering glass and the storm and the growling got slightly louder. One of the windows in the next room had broken. Negan could see hands and fingers reaching in around the boards.

“Let’s go. Downstairs,” he urged you, his voice intense and thick with concern.

You started down, but shot back at him over your shoulder. “Aren’t I the one in charge here?”

“I don’t see you disagreeing with that idea,” Negan said, setting his containers down beside yours. “Stay here. I’ll go grab a couple more boxes,” he said.

“Whoa. Me stay here? What is this? You don’t even have a weapon!” you argued.

He gave you an exasperated look. “Fine. Then by all means, come with me, darlin’!” He turned and rushed back up the stairs and you had to hurry after him, one hand on your knife in its sheath.

“Negan,” you snapped at him in a low voice as you rounded the doorway back onto the main floor. But he wasn’t by the supplies. You glanced around and could see the dim glow of his light in the next room, the one where the walkers had broken a window. Rain and the occasional hailstone were puddling under the window among the shards of glass. “What the fuck?” You nearly collided with each other when he turned around and started back toward the door. “What are you doing?! Put that down!” you growled.

He had an iron fireplace poker in his hand. That’s what he’d been doing in this room, grabbing it from the set of fireplace tools. “Don’t you think this qualifies as kind of a capital “E” emergency?” he argued.

You stared at him, intense, your chest heaving, and to your annoyance, he smiled at you.

“Goddamn. You look fuckin’ hot as shit when you’re pissed off! I mean, you’re always hot but ho-ly shit! I'm scared and suddenly all tingly downtown!”

Your hand went purposefully to your knife again and you stared him down. “I said. Put it. The fuck. Down.”

“Doll, just hear me out—”

“Negan.”

Another crack and the sound of shattering glass behind him and you saw more arms reaching through between the boards of another window. “Okay, we don’t have time for this right now. You can stab me or whatever downstairs,” he said. He breezed past you and grabbed a couple more boxes of supplies. You had no choice but to begrudgingly follow after him.

He turned, straightening up as he heard your boots hitting the bottom steps, and he opened his mouth to say something, but you were already on him before he could get even a syllable out.

You kicked him hard on the inside of one of his thighs and he dropped sideways onto his knee. The poker dropped from his hand and rang out on the cement floor. You kicked it away and it slid into the far wall with a harsh scraping sound. Your knife was unsheathed and pointed at the base of his throat before he knew what was happening. To your amazement, once he recovered from his pained grimaces, he fucking smiled again.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?” he asked in a low, gruff voice.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. When I brought you out here, you said you would listen to every fucking thing I told you to do. This is your one single second chance. Next time you fuck up, it’ll be my knife going into your thigh instead of my boot. Got it?”

He gulped, still on one knee at the point of your knife and still, to your annoyance, vaguely smiling. “Oh, I got it,” he responded, his eyebrows lifting.

“Good,” you said, backing off and letting him stand up. “Now, go pick up the fucking poker. I’m gonna lock up the door…”

“Wait‚ what?” Negan laughed, still rubbing at his leg where you’d kicked him. “After all that, you’re letting me have it?”

“Yes,” you said. “This does roughly qualify as an emergency. Or at least, the border of one. But those kinds of decisions? They’re not yours to make, Negan. You’re not the one in charge here.”

He looked both stunned and amused. “That is becoming more and more clear every fuckin’ day,” he said softly, looking at you with some expression you couldn’t completely discern.

You gave him a perplexed look and then headed up the stairs to seal up the door. There were heavy brackets on the back of the reinforced door (thank you, dead survivalist man) and you spotted a thick board leaning up against the railing. Once you’d closed and locked it, you heaved up the heavy wooden slat and dropped it into place in the brackets, adding extra security in case the walkers did get inside and try to push through. As you removed your hand hastily to head back downstairs, a jagged corner on one of the metal brackets sliced into your palm. You jerked it back and stared as a long crimson gash began to leak fat drops of blood onto the steps below you. You pulled in a hiss of breath through your teeth. “Great,” you sighed, cradling it in the other hand and trotting back down. Overhead, you could hear the storm still raging, but as a low hum now.

Negan stood up from his seat on one of the containers of supplies as soon as he saw you. A concerning amount of shockingly red blood was dripping off your hand and onto the floor. “What happened?” he asked, moving closer as you attempted to dig into your pack with your other hand, blood now running down your forearm. “Jesus, let me help you!” He grabbed your pack away and dug around inside until he found a small kit with spare bits of cloth for bandaging, some gauze pads, and a few other assorted odds and ends for first aid. “Wait, I’ve got that alcohol in my pack. We should clean it first.”

“It’ll be fine,” you argued, pulling off your headlamp and watching as Negan clicked on a lantern he’d found in one of the boxes.

“Would you let me help you with this at least? Can I? Please? I’m asking permission now,” he joked, shooting you a goading expression.

You cocked your head at him and tried to look annoyed, but you conceded, taking a seat on a plastic container across from him.

Negan dug out the alcohol and poured a generous amount out onto your palm. You gritted your teeth together at the burn and winced. “Sorry,” he said, pressing a gauze pad down over it, holding it gently on his own hand now. “But better than an infection, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, feeling strangely on edge with your hand in his.

Negan used some of the long, clean strips of cloth to bandage it up and hold the gauze in place, tying it securely but gently before relinquishing his hold on you. “Should have the doc take a look at that when we get back,” he said. “Pretty deep. Might need some stitches on that one.”

“Yeah. Maybe. It'll probably be too late by the time we get out of here,” you said, finally sighing as you suddenly realized how tired you were. Now that you felt more secure and safe, a strange thing with Negan sitting a mere foot away from you with no dividing bars between, the adrenaline had run out. Exhaustion was starting to set in. You took stock of the space. Your eyes wandered from the door into the hidden cellar where you’d found most of the supplies, back to the corpse of the survivalist in the far corner, over to the boxes next to Negan.

He was putting the first aid stuff back into your pack when his fingers nudged something and he paused; a thick stack of glossy photos. He pulled them out, curious. On top was the first one, the one in the very first house that the two of you had talked about, but there were more along with it now—many more. He flipped through a couple until you noticed and shifted where you were sitting. His hazel eyes lifted up to your face. “These are all from today?” he asked.

You nodded and tried to clear the sudden lump in your throat.

“You kept them? All of them?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He sighed, shaking his head vaguely, and thumbed through more; families on vacations, some guy holding a big fish, a young couple smiling in front of the Statue of Liberty, babies and kids and dogs and cats, an elderly couple posing in front of a studio background.

Your voice suddenly cut into him. “Did you ever stop to think that every person you put under your bat, they probably had photos like this? Were in photos like this?” you said suddenly. A particularly loud rumble of thunder boomed and rolled, as if on cue. Your eyes, clear and steady and striking even in the low glow of the lantern, felt like they were seeing straight into his core.

He frowned. The lines on his face seemed to become more pronounced, and he almost cringed. “No,” he answered honestly, the gravel in his voice heavy and gritty. “I didn’t think about it at all, most of the time. I think that was a lot of what I was doing. Not thinking. I know that's a shit fuckin' excuse. It's not an excuse... but I didn’t—want to think about the hard stuff.”

You were curious, interested, and felt that same vulnerability he seemed to be giving you more and more rolling off him in waves. “Like what?”

He gave you a sad smile. You could hear the wind whistling above you and the pounding of the rain. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

But now you were the one to back away, ducking your head, avoiding his eyes. Negan saw that there was hurt there, deep hurt. “I don’t think we’re quite there yet,” you murmured, fiddling with the bandage on your palm. “I mean, I’m not…”

“Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Negan replied, “you don’t owe me a damn thing. But can I tell you somethin’, doll?” He hesitated for a moment. “I—I like you. You kicked the shit out of me and held a knife to my throat about ten minutes ago and I still really like you. Genuinely. As a person, as a badass, as a—”

“Negan—” you interrupted him.

“If I had to be trapped in a basement with a corpse, a tornado and a herd outside, I can’t think of another person I’d rather be stuck with,” he said.

“Negan—” you tried again.

“No, listen to me. I’m trying to tell you—”

“You don’t like me, okay? You just feel that way because I’m the only person who really talks to you, who spends time with you, who brings you your meals, and looks after some fraction of your well-being. It’s like—it’s like trauma bonding, okay? That’s all it is.”

“No. It’s not just that. See Gabe was doin’ all that same shit and I still didn’t fuckin’ like him… I mean, not as much as I like you.”

As usual, when what you were feeling was becoming overwhelming, too many thoughts, too many emotions, you deflected with humor. “I’m cuter than Gabriel.”

Negan laughed and this time the sound was warm and almost comforting. “Yeah. No argument there…”

You allowed yourself a half-smile and then sighed, rubbing your hands over your face. “Fuck, I’m tired. What a long fucking day…”

“There are those sleeping bags in one of these boxes I think,” Negan said, starting to pull at the lids.

You laughed. “I can’t sleep,” you said.

“Why not?”

“Besides the insane storm outside and the horde? Uhh… I don’t know, you?” you offered, your tone a little sardonic.

But Negan’s face was perfectly serious. “The storm and the horde—can’t do shit about those companions and I agree that they are crappy house guests, but they’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere soon from what I can hear. That’s not changing whether you’re asleep or awake. As for me—” he tilted his head and gave you an appraising look, “I do not want to hurt you. And I won’t. And I’m not running away with the dickhole party outside so, you may as well catch some shut-eye. I’ll keep watch.”

You considered him for a long moment but finally shook your head. “No. No, I can’t sleep now…”

Negan sighed and rested the fireplace poker across his knees. “Well, then I’d say it’s going to be a long night… Got any ideas about how to pass the time?”

The mischievous sparkle came back into his eyes and you shot him a stern look that was apparently not enough of a deterrent. “Don’t—”

“We still do have those sleeping bags. I can think of some activities for a makeshift bed that don’t involve actual sleep.”

“Negan, there’s literally a corpse in the corner and a horde outside and that’s where your mind goes?”

He laughed. “Can you blame me? I’ve been in jail for, how long now? Five, six years? And trust me, Gabey Baby wasn’t giving me any action.” He paused at the look on your face, laughing again. “Come on, doll. I’m just kidding. Though it would help pass the time, you deserve far better than a sleeping bag on a dirty basement floor.”

“With a dead guy watching,” you added.

“With a dead guy watching,” he repeated, scratching absently at the stubble on his face. “That is pretty fuckin’ metal though,” he smirked.

“Negan, saying that I deserve better than that is really saying nothing. Anyone deserves better than that,” you sighed, standing up and pacing. “So yeah. I’d say it’s going to be a long night.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

Could I request a Negan fic where he reassures a plus-size reader that she's sexy and desirable? Preferably with smut if possible! If not, that's understandable as well! Thank you either way for your time!!

of course you can💗

summary - with all these women wanting negan’s attention, you begin to feel like he could do better.

warning - self hate, self doubt, slight jealousy, swearing, smut, zombies, daddy kink, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips.

Another day went on and you watched another survivor flaunt themselves in front of Negan, hoping to gain his attention. You pushed your seat back and left the room in a hurry, not wanting to watch anymore.

You decide to take a shower, feeling dirty and in need of some thinking time. You don’t hear Negan enter the room, leaning against the doorway, neither do you notice him when you step out and look at yourself in the mirror, slowly tracing your fingers over the places you hate.

“Why’re you looking at my body like that?” You jump, letting out a squeak, whipping your head around to look at him. Negan’s brow raises, “I’m waiting, Sugar.”

“Is not your body…” You grumble, mumbling under your breath.

He smirks, pushing off the doorway and stalking towards you, cornering you into the bathroom counter. “The fuck you say to me, Sugar? You are mine, meaning this body is mine and I don’t appreciate how you are looking at it.” Your thighs clench together as he practically growls. “Now tell me.”

“…I don’t know why you want me, I’ll understand if you want the others.” You felt so exposed and aroused with Negan pressed against you.

“Where the shit did this come from, Sweetheart?” He grips your chin in his hand making you look at him. “You think I want them? Do you know how long it took me to get you, Sweetness? So fucking long and I ain’t giving that up for some easy lay.”

“I’m yours.” He spins you around, pressing harder into you, still holding your chin as he makes you look at yourself in the mirror. “Ya see what I see? A fucking goddess, look at these fucking tits.” You whimper when he grabs them, squeezing and jiggling them. “My god, these tits are in my fucking dreams. All I can think bout is suffocating myself in them or shoving my dick between them, making you watch as I fuck them.”

“Negan…”

“Shut up. You’re gonna listen to me and then I’m gonna fuck you.” He groans, reaching back and grabbing your arse. “This fucking arse. You should know, half the men I’ve killed weren’t cause of the crimes I said. No, I killed them for looking at what’s mine, talking bout you in ways only I can talk about you.” You moan as he continues squeezing and spanking your arse before his hands move again.

“And these thighs, fuck. Love when you suffocate me with them or wrap them around me as I fuck you. Get so fucking hard when you walk, talk, breathe. Fucking everything you do gets me hard.”

His hands skim your stomach. “Love me a full woman. There’s just something so comforting and homey about one. Ya feel like home, Sugar.” Negan nuzzles his face into your neck, causing tingles to spread as his beard rubs against you.

You moan when he slides into you, you didn’t even know he had taken his cock out. “Now, this cunt. My favourite fucking thing, it’s like Christmas morning every time I slide inside or taste it. You’re my fucking present, baby. Fuck, always feel so fucking tight.” He grips your chin, turning your head and placing a kiss on your lips. “You want me to fuck you in front of everyone, baby? Might have to leave a mark on you so they know you’re mine. Better yet, you leave one on me.”

You clench around him, gripping the bathroom counter as he fucks into you harder and faster, gripping your hips with a bruising grip. Your eyes connect with his in the reflection causing you to squeeze him even tighter. “N—Neg—!”

His hand comes down on your arse hard. “That’s not my name, Sugar. C’mon, what’s my name?” He growls, pounding deeper.

“Daddy!” You scream, cumming so hard your eyes roll back and vision becomes white.

“That’s my girl.” He buries deep into you, filling you up. Negan spins you without pulling out, causing you to face him. “C’mon, mark me, Sugar.”

Your brows furrow.

Negan raises his. “I’m serious, Sweets.” He leans down and moans as you latch onto his neck, sucking, nipping and licking. Pulling back to reveal a large hickey. “Good girl.”

After that, everyone knew he was yours.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[chelseypprimrose]

Jilted Ex-Lover / Negan x Reader / fiancésdad!Negan

Warnings ⚠️: unprotected sex, elements of rough sex, use of petnames, oral (fem receiving) not proof read yet.

Summary: After your fiancé leaves you high and dry on your wedding day, his dad comforts you in a way you didn’t ever expect.

A/N: I got burnt out to fuck writing this lol, writers block was strong on this one, hope you enjoy it all the same though, thank u for all the love on my other stories 🤍🫶🏼

“How the fuck could he do this to me?” You exclaimed, stomping down the hallway of the old manor house, the rooms still decorated in the victorian inspired decor you’d picked out months ago. Making it back to your bridal suite, you threw the doors open, reaching under your dress to get your uncomfortable heels off your feet, throwing them into the corner without a care. Your bridesmaids followed behind you, a couple on their phones trying to get in contact with your fiancé, or should you say ex-fiancé. You’d noticed he’d been getting jittery the closer the date got, not caring when you’d come to him for his opinions on the food menu or the DJ set list, him just humming along, his eyes still glued to his phone. You’d tried to push it to the back of your mind, chalking it up to just be cold feet, something that was common but when the day eventually arrived, it would all be fine. How foolish that was, on what was meant to be the happiest day of your life, the day you are meant to promise yourselves to one another, you’d been embarrassed in front of not only your friends and family, his as well. You kept replaying the moment over and over again in your head, the gasps of the wedding audience, hands going over their mouths in shock, the tears that entered your eyes and started to fall down your cheeks. He’d left you there at the alter, stuttering when it came to the all important question, running down the stairs, head held down as he rushed out of the door.

“So, what do you want to do Y/N? Everyone’s traveled here, everything is set downstairs.” One of the bridesmaids asked you, looking around at the others with a nervous look on her face, almost not wanting to ask you the question. You sighed, taking a hold of the crystal decanter that was on the dressing room table, using the ice tongs to place two cubes of ice in a matching whiskey glass, pouring a stiff drink. “You know what?” You laughed, taking the drink in one go. “Fuck him, there’s no chance I spent all this fucking money for everything to be cancelled. Tell everyone to head to the reception. We are continuing like this never happened.” Your bridesmaids started to text away on their phones, one looking up for a brief moment. “What about his family? Are they invited?” You looked towards her, a small smile on your face. “Of cause, I’m going to get some questions answered.”

You’d still changed into your reception dress, a long flowing silk white strapless number, you’d still had your first dance, just with your own father instead of your husband, a few fallen tears as you did, quickly wiped away. You’d had people coming up to you from both sides, what should have been congratulations became apologies and sympathies. You hadn’t heard from him since he ran away, the thought of somehow this being a dream now fully out of the picture. The beat of the cheesy classic wedding songs in the background, as you asked the bartender for another drink, passing your empty glass to them. Your nails tapped against the bar, looking around at everyone still enjoying themselves and dancing near the stage where the DJ was positioned. The bartender returned with your glass now full, a nod of appreciation as you took it.

“Drowning your sorrows, sweetheart? Can’t say I blame you.” You turned to look at where the voice came from, a small look of disapproval sat on your features. “Well, you have your own demon spawn to blame for that one, Mr Smith.” He let out a hearty chuckle, leaning on the bar top. You knew you shouldn’t be directing your anger at Negan, your fiancés father but you couldn’t help your feelings. You’d been racking your brain all day of how someone could think it was okay to completely abandon what was meant to be their life partner on the day of their wedding, knowing how embarrassing and disrespectful it was. “You really did a brilliant job of raising him, the fact he thinks that it’s morally better to absolutely embarrass me in front of everyone, he could have cancelled this before now, saved me the heartbreak.” You concluded, taking a sip of the wine from the glass. Negan looked at you with a guilty look on his face, his hand rubbing his face. “I’m so sorry doll, he never came to me with any of this, if I’d known he was going to do this, I would have shut that shit down, made sure he went about the right way to do it. That’s not the way I fucking raised him. It was a cowardly move.” You let out a sigh, you could tell from the way Negan was looking at you he was being completely truthful, you’d always got along, there would be no reason he wouldn’t have come to you with this, even if it meant going behind his sons back. “I know. Sorry, I just have a bit of resentment towards anyone associated to him at the moment, it isn’t your fault. Maybe just hit him in the face a couple times when you eventually find him.” You smiled, trying to lighten the mood for the moment before you cried again. He laughed at this, his arm leaving the bar to wrap around your waist in a gentle embrace. “Don’t worry doll, he’ll be getting an earful from me when I see him. I don’t like seeing your pretty face upset, especially not over some boy.” He pulled you close, his hand resting in place, you felt safe in Negan’s arms, a weird sensation coming over you, arousal? It was no secret that Negan was a good looking guy, anyone with a set of eyes could see how handsome he was, he had all the charm in the world to match as well. So suave, he held himself really well, almost a people person but wouldn’t take any shit from anyone. To be honest, there had always been some kind of silent attraction between the two of you, you’d noticed when his eyes had lingered on you for a little longer than was deemed socially appropriate, how he always seemed more relaxed in your company, when he’d bring you breakfast some mornings when he knew his son was away on business trips. He’d taken good care of you and welcomed you with open arms into the family, which caused the betrayal to sting more, you weren’t just losing a potential husband, you were losing a extended family relationship as well.

“Well if you would excuse me, I have to get back to people coming up to me and expressing their condolences, you’d think it was a funeral, not a wedding.” You slightly laughed, taking one last look in his eyes as you bid him farewell.

A couple hours later, after everyone had left, you found yourself in your suite, having taken your hair down from the intricate up do, having to weave out the small flowers that had been placed in the style and what felt like ten thousand bobby pins. Grabbing a quick shower, you’d put on a silk set with a short robe, what was meant to be your wedding night lingerie, another thing you’d spent a ton of money on that you didn’t want going to waste. You’d barely checked your phone through the night, looking at it now you hadn’t had any calls or texts from your estranged ex, concluding that was probably a good thing, not wanting to get upset thinking about it again. A loud knock at your door made you jump, throwing the soft duvet off your body as you made moves towards the door, a look of surprise at the person. “Hey doll, I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight, so…” Negan trailed off, raising the bottle of champagne and two flutes in his large hand. “Champagne? Aren’t you meant to drink that when you’re celebrating?” You questioned, cocking one hip to the side sarcastically with your eyebrow raised. “Well, depending on how you look at the situation, you could be celebrating the fact you don’t have to deal with a silly little boy anymore who can’t appreciate a good women in front of him?” You laughed, taking the bottle out of his hand, moving away from the door so he could enter the room. “Well, when you put it like that.” Negan shut the door behind you, taking a seat on the bed as he watched you pop open the bottle, pouring two glasses and handing him one. “To new beginnings?” You cheers with him, the glasses clinking together. “To new beginnings, doll. So what the plan from here? Weren’t you meant to be going on a honeymoon?” You huffed, you’d completely forgotten about your impending honeymoon, two weeks on your own sounded morbid. “I haven’t even thought about it, I forgot. Do you think it would be pathetic to go by myself? Maybe I can explain the situation and get refunded, I’ll just have to take the hit if not.” Negan smiled as he shook his head. “Nah, it’s not pathetic. Hell, you paid for the trip, you deserve the time away.” You nodded, taking a small sip of the champagne. “Yeah I guess, just don’t know how I feel about a solo trip, it will cause me to overthink everything and get upset.” You looked down at the ground, taking small steps until you were sat across from Negan on the bed.

“Did I do something wrong? I mean, am I really that insufferable that someone felt the need to run away from me? Is the idea of marrying me that bad?” You asked, the thoughts you’d tried to push down all day coming back to the surface, causing you to get emotional the more you fixated on it. “No doll, don’t think that shit. He royally screwed up on this one, there is absolutely no excuse to do what he did to someone, especially someone like you.” He moved to wrap his arms around you again, you leaning your head into his shoulder, your hand placed on his chest, you could feel his faint heartbeat on the surface. You sat for a short time, neither of you moving from the position you were in, savouring the moment. You looked up at Negan, those deep brown eyes of his almost staring into your soul. He glanced down at you as well, this unspeakable tension surrounding you both, he leant forward and began to kiss you, your eyes wide with shock. “Wha-what are you doing? Please don’t tell me this is some sort of pity kiss.” You asked, pulling slightly away from Negan as his hand began to the side of your face, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Of cause not, let me help you forget about that fucker. Doesn’t know a good women even though it’s staring him in the face. Let me make you feel good, doll.” You pulled him towards you, now capturing him in a feverish kiss, your hands exploring his neck, holding him tightly. “God please, help me forget.”

You moved to straddle Negan feeling him through the thin lingerie you had on as he met your kisses with just as much confidence as you. His tongue making quick work of turning your insides to jelly, moving to whip your robe off your body, making quick work of unclipping your bra as well. You took no notice of where the items of clothing landed, though you had a feeling you would regret that later. Your breasts now free, Negan took the liberty of exploring you, delighting in the arch of your back as he worked a nipple between his teeth. One hand was on your back, the other trying to work on getting your panties down. You stood for a moment, shedding the flimsy material off your body, Negan taking a moment to admire your curves, as you straddled him again; hot skin against hot skin. The sensation overwhelmed you, aching to have him inside you. “Fuck, you are perfect doll. So beautiful.” He mumbled against your lips, his hands now roaming your body.

He laid you down on the bed, your legs spreading to make room for him. He kissed your neck, gently nipping it as he worked his way down, more attention on your breasts. You knew what was coming but that still didn't prepare you for the sensation that came once his mouth made contact with your pussy. Your hips bucked, Negan using one hand to steady you. You still couldn’t believe you were actually going to have sex with your fiancés father, the ultimate fuck you. “Uh, Negan! Fuck, your mouth feels so good!”

He slowly slid two fingers inside of you, delighting in how slick and tight you were. He worked his fingers in and out, building a rhythm while still licking at your clit, causing you to moan out, your hands gripping the sheet below you. Before you knew it, you could feel the orgasm building inside of you, this is what you had been craving. Your fiancé could never give you pleasure like you were currently experiencing, never even going down on you really, always just chasing his own high. You’d missed the attention of a man who knew what he was doing and Negan definitely knew what he was doing. You thrust your hips forward, wanting to get as close to Negan as possible. He sped up his rhythm, his tongue continually flicking against you. You was close, so close. Your other hand was grabbing at his shoulder, leaving red marks underneath his shirt, where your nails dug in slightly.

“Fuck doll, you taste divine, so wet for me.” He whispered out, attaching his mouth back to you after. "I'm so close," you choked out, surprised at the fact that you could talk at all. "I'm going to come, Negan! Fuck! Don’t stop!” You moaned, gripping the sheet even tighter as your orgasm washed over your body. The muscles in your body contracted as you thrust toward him again. Negan continued to work your clit through your orgasm, sporadic moans leaving your lips as the wave of pleasure that rolled over you was unbelievable. You couldn't control anything, the waves subsided as you tried to relax your body. You loosened the grip that you had on his shoulder as he looked up at you, a confident grin on his face.

“You okay baby?” He asked softly, already knowing your answer. “Never better, I need you.” His hand caressed your breast again and down your body. He slid a finger into you, finding you to be wet and ready for him. Your hands explored his body again, practically ripping his suit down, exposing his shaft to you, it standing erect at attention. You ran your hand around the length of it, pleased to hear him moan as you did so. You pumped Negan’s cock a few more times, the pre cum oozing out of the top, causing your hand to become slick. You were nervous about Negan’s size, you’d never seen a more impressive cock. The way he stood over you as well, so manly and dominating. “You ready doll? You look so beautiful, so needy for me.” You could only nod, as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You moved to the top of the bed, propping yourself up on the soft pillows positioned there. You spread your legs a little wider as Negan slowly eased himself into you. “Oh fuck, you feel good.” You moaned as his entire length entered you.

He grabbed your legs, putting them up over his shoulders, allowing his cock to go even deeper. His hands gripped your thighs as he thrust himself into you at a faster, harder pace, almost taking your breath away. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, doll. Fits me perfectly.” he growled, reaching up and began tweaking one of your nipples. The sensation of Negan playing with your nipples, and fucking you relentlessly was almost more than you could take. You’d never been pleasured like this before, your other sexcapades being boring and too slow paced for you. You ran your nails down his still covered chest, the black blazer now disregarded by Negan, the crisp white shirt still on his frame, he looked so sexy in it. The thought that he just had to have you, he wasn’t even concerned about undressing made you feel so desirable. He leaned down and kissed you again, biting your lower lip in the process.

"Fuck me harder, please!” You moaned out, his lips now going to work on your neck, quickly finding your sensitive spots. Negan groaned appreciatively, speeding his rhythm up to meet your sordid demands. “Hang on, doll. I need to see that pretty ass of yours.” He slid himself out of your pussy and you whimpered at the loss of fullness you were feeling. He rolled you over, pulling your torso up so that your ass was in the air. He ran his hands over your ass, giving a slap to the supple skin, sliding himself back into your pussy. “Oh fuck yes, Negan!” You said happily, delighting in the new sensation, his cock hitting all the right spots deep inside you.

He rested his hands on your hips, thrusting hard into your pussy. He ran a hand over your ass again, raised it, and gave another hard slap. “Fuck! Do it again.” You begged, the dirty movements only increasing your pleasure. He raised his hand and smacked you again, his hand then running through your hair and pulling tightly on it, angling your head back. “Does that feel good, doll?” he asked. "Do you like that? Being such a good girl for me.” He praised you, his deep tone causing your body to light on fire. “Oh yeah, fuck yeah.” You managed to whimper out, the sound of your skin slapping against him as you met his thrusts. “You want me to do it again? Your ass is going to be red raw when I’m finished with you doll.” Negan whispered in your ear, continuing to thrust hard into your pussy. “Yes, please. Oh please!” You felt desperate, the pain mixed with pleasure was just too much for you to handle. “Beg for it, doll. Beg me.” he said, pulling your hair harder. “Oh fuck, please smack me again! Negan, you feel so fucking good inside me!” Negan kept slamming himself into you as he smacked your ass again.

"Fuck doll, I’m getting close, this pussy is heavenly.” he said a few minutes later, pumping your pussy hard. "Where’d you want me?”

"On my chest, all over me, please?” You requested, Negan thrusting faster as he chased his release. “You are a dirty fucking girl, you know that doll?” He pulled out of you, positioning yourself to the ground quickly as he leant just above you on his knees.

"Come on me baby, please! I need it.” you said, pushing your breasts up towards him with your inner arms, your hands grabbing his shaft, finishing him off. “Fuck yes, doll! You look amazing like that, so needy for my cum.” he choked out just before his climax hit him. Negan’s load came pulsating out, all over your chest, heavy breaths escaping both of you. You began to swipe his release on off your chest, sucking the salty taste off your fingers, his eyes locked on to the dirty sight in front of him, his face lighting up. He helped you up, back onto the bed, giving you another kiss as he did. “You want me to stay doll?” he asked.

You debated internally for a few moments. You knew that he should probably go, the thought of someone catching you in bed with your ex fiancés father, would cause many questions that you wanted to avoid, but when he looked at you with those eyes of his, you caved. How could you kick out the man who had just shattered your world in the space of a hour? “You can stay, I want a repeat performance in the morning.” You chuckled, wrapping yourselves within the sheets of the bed. “Really doll, he’s a fucking fool. His loss, my fucking gain.” He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, leaving small kisses on your forehead.

[carlsdarling]

Maybe Baby headcanons Part II

How do different TWD characters react when they find out that Y/N is expecting a baby from them?

WARNINGS: none

Rick

He's speechless at first when you tell him. Then delighted and horrified at the same time.

"This can't be true..."

He gets kind of depressed because your pregnancy triggers the memory of Lori's death.

Rick becomes very protective, bossy, and controlling. (Did I mention he has a control kink?).

He insists that you are never alone. He is either with you himself, or one of his closest confidants.

He never stops worrying.

He is excited like a little boy when he tells Carl that he is getting another brother or sister.

He keeps calling Siddiq to come and check you out, even though there's no reason for it.

When the birth starts, Rick nervously paces up and down the room and gets in the way, so they have to send him away.

Daryl

He stares at you baffled and just can't find the right words.

"I'm not ready for this"

It takes Daryl a few days to come to terms with the news and get used to the idea of becoming a dad. Temporarily he even distances himself from you and acts dismissive and unfriendly.

He eventually apologizes for this. He has some difficulties getting involved with a child because his own childhood was traumatic.

He is unsure how to handle the situation, but he hides this with his often rude behavior.

He scavenges masses of stuff for you and the baby - because he doesn't know anything about it, much of it is ultimately useless.

He is proud that he will soon be a father, but can't admit it.

When you go into labor, he feels awkward because there is nothing he can do to help you.

Negan

When you tell him, he laughs out loud and looks at you in disbelief.

"Are you bullshitting me?"

Then he flatly forbids you to leave the house, fearing someone might kidnap you and the unborn or "sell" you to Rick.

Very dominant, controls that you eat enough and what you eat.

Makes plans on how he will raise his son (he is convinced it will be a boy) to be his successor and future leader.

Jokingly teases you about gradually getting fat and slow.

Is secretly happy to have a child soon, too, since Rick already has two kids and Negan silently envies him for Carl, even if he would never admit it.

Threatens the Sanctuary doctor to throw him into the fire alive if the delivery doesn't go smoothly.

Glenn

He's happy as a little kid, grinning and bouncing around.

"This is great!"

He blanks out any difficulties and tries to see everything in a positive light. He wants to avoid you developing fears.

First of all, he goes on a trip to get you pregnancy vitamins.

He's already planning what all he's going to teach his son or daughter. You have to slow him down.

He gets all excited when the birth starts, but stays sitting next to your bed and does exactly what Siddiq tells him to do.

[band--psycho]

Negan x Reader - The Princess And The Bodyguard

For my amazing friend @little-diable 15k celebration! Congratulations again love!

Prompt in bold - Since her marriage the tales of her beauty had grown still greater. 

I hope you all enjoy this!

Warnings - Smut (under the cut), arranged marriage, death threats (18+)

“You’re an ass, you know that,” Y/n hissed as Negans thumb drew circles on top of her overly sensitive clit. 

He’d been teasing her for hours, bringing her to the edge of her release and then denying her at the very last second, just to do it all over again. 

But, despite her words, Y/n couldn’t deny that she loved every single torturous second of it. 

A dark chuckle fell from Negans lips as he pushed two of his fingers deep inside her dripping wet pussy, flicking her g-spot slowly as he leaned in closer to her.

“Still think I’m an ass, princess?” He asked, his lips ghosting over hers. 

Y/n opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, instead the only sound that left her slightly swollen lips was a loud moan, as Negans fingers quickly pumped in and out of her. 

“You’re gonna get us caught, if you’re not careful,” he stated quietly, a triumphant smirk tugging at his lips as he placed his other hand over her mouth, quieting the shameless noises she was making. 

Y/n didn’t care. 

She knew this was the last time they were going to be able to be together like this; so she was going to make as much noise as she wanted. 

Negan knew this. 

And he loved it. 

He reveled in watching as her eyes rolled back in sheer pleasure; he loved watching her squirm and writhe underneath him as she desperately chased the release she’d been craving and he’d been denying. 

“You wanna cum?” He teased, feeling her clenching around his fingers at his words; knowing the answer before the words could even leave her mouth. 

“Please,” she begged, once his hand was no longer covering her mouth.

The sound of Princess Y/n begging, that was a sound he would never get tired of hearing. 

“Cum for me,” he whispered as his fingers took up the fast paced rhythm once again. 

And just like that, Y/n fell over the edge she’d been made to teeter on for so long; a symphony of moans and half spoken curse words falling from her lips before Negans hand once again muffled the sinful noises coming from the princess.   

~~~~~

“This is the last time we can do this, princess,” Negan mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on Y/n's forehead, before pulling away from her completely and getting out of the bed to gather up the clothes he’d quickly discarded earlier. 

She knew it was the last time they could do this, she did. 

But she just wanted to be with Negan for a little while longer

“Stay,” Y/n's plea was barely above a whisper, but it was loud enough for Negan to hear; and drew his attention back to her. 

When his eyes met hers, he felt his heart begin to break; even more so when he noticed how her bottom lip was trembling as she tried not to cry. 

He didn’t want to go. 

His brain was screaming at him to just throw his clothes back on the floor, wrap his arms around her and never let go. 

He wanted to stay with her; but he knew he couldn’t. 

“We both know I can’t,” he answered back, sadness filling his eyes as he continued to get dressed, making sure he avoided any further eye contact with Y/n. 

He knew if he saw that sadness in her again, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from staying. 

He hated seeing her sad. 

And he certainly hated being the cause of it. 

But she was leaving. No matter how much he hated the idea of it, it was out of both of their control. 

“You could come with me,” she offered softly, moving off of the bed, the bed sheet wrapped around her body until she stood in front of him,  her gorgeous y/e/c eyes looking up at him.  

“You could be my personal bodyguard,” she continued, lifting her free hand to Negans face, gently caressing his cheek. 

He knew he could go with her. 

Her father had already asked Negan if he would go with her, to keep an eye on her and make sure that she was safe.

And he’d said no. Not because he didn’t want to; he did. 

But because he knew that if he had to watch the man that Y/n was arranged to be marrying, he’d kill him, the second he laid a hand on her, he’d be a dead man. 

Which wouldn’t have been good for anybody. 

Negan knew that this arranged marriage between Y/n and King Rick had to work for the sake of the kingdom. 

Y/n's father was an old man, he wouldn’t be able to rule forever; so Y/n, being his only heir, would have the throne. 

Naturally, her father just wanted her to be safe and looked after when he was gone; that’s why he arranged her marriage to King Rick. Her father knew he was an honorable man who would look after his daughter and his kingdom. 

On paper it was a perfect match. 

Except for the fact that Y/n loved Negan and Negan loved Y/n back.

“I can’t,” he whispered, lifting his hand to hers, wrapping his fingers around her wrist, wishing that he could just stay in this moment with her forever. 

“We both know I wouldn’t be able to look at you with him everyday, without wanting to-” he stopped the final words from falling from his lips, instead it was a sigh that came from his lips instead as leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. 

He was fighting every urge he had to kiss her again knowing that if he did, he’d never be able to let her go. 

“In another life, we're together right?” She sniffled, trying to stop the tears that were forming in her eyes from falling. 

That question….it was enough to break his heart completely. 

“Oh I fucking hope so, princess,” he replied, noticing how his own voice shook a little.

He pulled away slightly, pressing a quick kiss on her forehead before grabbing his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder and making his way to the door. 

His hand hovered over the door knob for a few seconds longer than it should’ve; his heart still fighting with his head; but deep down, he knew this was the right thing to do. 

And with that he left the room, quickly wiping away the stray tears that had fallen from his eyes, before walking through the halls of the castle as though he hadn’t just broken his own heart. 

~~~~~

It had been two years since Y/n's marriage to King Rick, and since her marriage the tales of her beauty had grown still greater. 

Everyone in Alexandria, King Rick's kingdom seemed to love her; especially the king of the kingdom himself, whose love and devotion was clear enough for everyone and anyone to see. 

Including Negan. 

Even though it made the blood coursing through his veins burn with jealousy, he couldn’t deny how much King Rick loved Y/n; and that’s what had made her the perfect target. 

Four days ago, Y/n's father had received word that his only daughter had nearly been assassinated whilst out on a horse ride at the borders of Alexandria.

Y/n's father was too ill to travel the three days it would take to get to Alexandria, which is why Negan was here. 

Not that there was ever really a question about it, regardless of whether he was sent by the King or not, he’d be here. 

Y/n's life was at risk, and there was no way in hell he was going to let anyone harm her.

[perkqularkreashions]

Dogs Days Are Not Over

Requested | YES. Request | OPEN.

~M~ TWD Imagine: YN finds herself in an impossible situation when she is met with her former lover.

Word Count: 4,667

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Miscarriage, Mentions of Death.

Pairings: Negan X Reader, Dwight X Reader, Rick X Reader [Previous]

Author's note, this is the fourth request I've seen where the reader is pregnant lol; I have two more with Spencer Reid.

Happy Readings :)

NEGAN stirred gently, his back facing me as he groaned. The voices erupted in the halls, signaling that it was morning, another day of being completely absorbed by the idiocy Negan decided to keep in his company. Moments passed before he rose from the bed, dragging his limp body through the room, finding anything to toss on. He spoke softly to me last night, for the first time in a long time. His hand rubbed against me while his lips kissed my neck, gently lulling me to sleep, but I knew in the morning he would be back to sulking and carrying this attitude. We had been arguing for the last few days, and small things turned into big things that snowballed into us not talking for some days. “I want to go get Michael to check out,” he finally pronounces, his back still facing me as he pulls on some clothes. 

“Negan,” I whispered, sitting in our bed, shifting slightly as he dismissed me. The door slammed behind him, and I was left alone. This time, it wasn’t a tiny fight over Dwight flirting with me or me getting jealous of his other wives; I overheard one of his dick-riding minions talking about the current raid that they partook in. They recounted the names in glee, the names of the victims that Negan bludgeoned, Abraham and Glenn. I froze, and my face grew warm as I listened closer to the words tumbling out of their mouths—the gargling of his words and the look of desperation on the woman’s face. I moved to the man, but I grabbed my gun and slammed it against his temple before I could process anything that had happened. Over and over again, I drew the butt of my gun to his face. My eyes burned with tears and blood. My feet slid against the ground as I felt arms wrap around me. It was one hit, a solid punch against my jaw, and another to my temple; I heard a loud crack. 

I fell limp to the floor, a cold hand pressing against my face. His thumb rubbed gently against my skin. I could smell the stale cigarettes and beer on him. His voice was barely above a whisper. I could scarcely see his face, but I knew it was Dwight. I flinched away from him, slowly pushing him away. “Negan will kill you if he sees you,” was all I could mutter before, succumbing to darkness.  

Now, roughly two days later, I have a bruised and darkened eye. I could barely see from my left eye; bright lights irritated me, and I suffered frequent migraines – Negan would call it a suitable punishment for a disrespectful woman. I wore a patch that Dwight had found on one of his excursions. Negan didn’t take too kindly to it, and me jumping to his defense wasn’t helping the situation either. Negan commanded one of the wives to nurse me back to health; with disdain and twisted face, she did so. She changed my bandages from my worsening eye and cleaned the wounds. This morning was no different; she came with a slight frown upon seeing me. She sighed, setting down her materials. “When are you going to tell him?” she finally spoke as she damped a discolored clothe to my eye. 

After moments of silence, I finally responded, “What.” She laughed before snatching her hand away from my face. 

“You’re pregnant, getting into stupid fights with David? He punched you in the stomach, YN, and the only reason you blacked out like that was because that was your old crew.” I rolled my eyes, shaking my head softly. 

“There’s no need; he’s not talking to me. I feel fine.” I confided in Rachel often, and on one of my drunken nights, I told her that Michael was the group leader's son to whom I used to belong. It was easier to think he was dead than to believe that Rick was dead. I mourned for Rick, Carl, Glen, Maggie, Abraham, Tara, Sasha, Daryl, and Michonne. I told her about my sisters and Beth’s death, and I told her about first meeting Rick and his family. She listened, soaked in every word as I cried in her lap. 

“Your eye isn’t healing; you might want to get checked out when you go to Alexandria,” she sighs as she leaves me alone. 

It didn’t take me long to get ready: light green cargo shorts, a stained tan t-shirt, and some army boots I stole from a decaying corpse. My head shifted to the door as I heard his babbles break the silence. His head rested on Negan’s chest as he moved closer to the room, avoiding eye contact with me. I ran my hand down his curly hair, taking him in for a moment. “How’s he feeling?”

“Not getting any better from last night, still a high fever, and he sounds hoarse,” He whispers; I could feel his eyes on me. Heavy and daunting. Finally, I look up, praying he doesn’t shift his gaze away. “I worry about you, YN” 

Slowly, I let my hand travel to his face, cuffing it gently. My thumb brushed against his facial hair, prickling my skin uncomfortably, then moving to his lips. “I know… I’m sorry” was all I could manage. 

“He could’ve killed you; I would have to kill him. I would do anything for you — for Michael.” I nodded; I pressed my lips against his, tasting alcohol and some sort of meat. His other hand gently grabbed at my waist, yanking me closer. “Come on,” he whispered against my lips. As we left the room, we were greeted by his dick-riding minions, ready to raid another town. My eyes scanned David, his face distorted from the butt of my gun. He smirked momentarily, before trotting off with the rest of the group. My eyes flickered to Dwight, his movements slow and calculated. He dodged through the crowd and soon walked shoulder-to-shoulder with me. Nothing was, but nothing needed to be said. His fingers brushed against mine, and my eyes shifted to Negan and then to him. 

“How are you feeling?” I heard him grunt, his arms folded against his chest as he moved slightly before me. 

“Better; Rachel says I need to get checked out when I go to the town,” I answered shortly, looking around and disinterested in the conversation. 

“I miss you” 

“Don’t,” I interrupted, speeding past him as I slammed my shoulder against his. I gasped as I felt his arm latch onto mine. I didn’t turn around, but I knew he was upset and needed me to show him I was alright. He let me go, and I continued to move with the group as we boarded our rides. 

It didn’t take us long to reach Alexandria, the scene unfolding in front of me as every memory began to flood back. I began to feel queasy and full of anxiety as I stepped out of the car with Michael in hand. I hissed gently as sharp pain ran through my eye, I brushed it off as I lingered behind most of the group.

“Little pig…Little pig, let me in,” he foolishly commands, Lucille tossed over his shoulder. I squinted at the man; he was pale and had sustained some injuries. He was hunched forward slightly, his shoulders moving at an alarming rate. I caught his eyes, his hair covering most of his case; I took another step in his direction, my chest burning as I watched him intently. Realization struck on his face, and his eyes widened. “Daryl?” I whispered. My head snapped back to the gate as it began to open, and slowly, the figure emerged. He steps in, slowly thrusting Lucille into the man’s hand. 

His face changed, and he gained some weight. His hair wasn’t as curly the last time I saw him more clean cut. His face drained of color and life that used to decorate him – he had hope. I couldn’t move or process the man I was seeing before me. He froze, his eyes moving from Michael to me. My throat tightened as I tried to utter something to him; I dreamt of this day, standing in front of Rick, letting him meet his son, explaining the hell that I went through, seeking comfort in his arms. “Rick?” I hiccuped out, shaking my head. I took a step closer to him, tightening my grip on Michael. 

“YN?” he whispered, his voice kissing against my eyes. His eyes traveled back to Michael, “Is this–” hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers running against his arm before laying his hand against his back. 

“Hold the fuck up,” I heard Negan shout, his laughter filtering into the arm as he stepped closer. His face was full of devious mischievous, but his eyes were full of sorrow and confusion. They watered slightly as he stepped closer to me. “Rick? Ole Rick, here is the father of Michael?” 

“I was traveling with Daryl doing some runs in this town when we got separated. A herd of walkers took us by surprise, and I stumbled in the woods somewhere; I was holding up in some shanty town centers, bars, and a mall to give birth to Michael.” I stared at Negan for a moment as realization crossed his eyes. “Where’s Maggie?” I whispered. Rick looked for a moment, his eyes shifting down as he swallowed. 

“She didn’t make the trip back here after—” I sucked deeply. I needed to hold myself together, and I nodded to his statement. I pressed my lips together. “Let me see her.” 

With that, we moved to her grave sight, next to Glenn. I stared at the dirt graves, my foot mindlessly kicking at the dirt as it tumbled down the pile. My eyes stung with tears as I tugged on my bottom lip. “She was sister,” I spoke to Negan, my eyes fixating on the makeshift wooden cross. “She was always the rock between Beth and I. Beth was a crybaby, and Maggie was always Miss Straight and Narrow while I wanted to drink and stay out late with my hick boyfriend,” I laughed. It was long and rested in the stillness of the air. “When I saw Rick and Shane running down that field with Otis with Carl in his arms, I knew then that we stuck with the crew that came riding in their beat-up van and motorcycle. I nursed Carl back to health and taught him how to be a farmer."

My eyes flashed to Rick; a sunken look rested on his face as he gave me a soft smile. “She was my everything, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you—” I was interrupted by Michael’s whooping cough, his hand gripping against my chest. Negan rushed to my side, his eyes scanning Michael’s face, brushing his hair out of his face. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes pleading to hold him. Absentmindedly, I nodded. He soon began checking his reddening face, the back of his hand pressing against his forehead as he shifted slightly. My eyes flickered to Rick, who tensed; a look of concentration and bewilderment ran across his features. I flinched at the abrupt ring pierced through the air; we froze for a moment; it was a gunshot. I followed behind Rick, my hand removing the gun from my side, upon entering a building far from the gravesite. My gun was aimed at a teenage boy, a bandage covering his eye as he held it at David, who had multiple medical supplies in his arms while tossing them in a crate. My face furrowed in disgust as my eyes shifted to him. 

“Put some back, or the next one goes in you,” he commands; I observed, smirking slightly at this kid's courage. 

“Kid…what do think is gonna happen next?” the boy looked at Negan, his eyes flickering to the child in his hand. 

“He’s taking all of our medicine! You said Half,” he hissed; he squinted in hatred, his lips parted as a low snarl escaped. His finger danced against the trigger. 

“Carl… Carl put the gun down.” I straightened my posture, my eyes taking him in. He was taller; he didn’t have a sweet innocence about him. When I first found out I was pregnant, he stayed by my side — he was overprotective, to say the least. I remember sharing a cell in the prison for a month, his body leaning against the base of the bed, his head resting against the rusted metal pole. His mouth parted, and his chest slowly moved with each huff that pushed past his lips. I watched him for a moment, brushing my hands through his hair. He’d stir in his sleep, uncomfortably adjusting himself, letting his hands run over his neck. He hated sleeping alone since his mother had passed, and I hated being alone since I suffered from the miscarriage. 

Lowering my gun, I watched him. “You should go before you find out how dangerous we are.” I smiled softly at his words.

“David, put the medicine back,” I whispered, holstering my gun. Carl turned to me, his face still tight with anger. I grabbed his arm, and he flinched, his hand locking on the gun. 

“You don’t tell me what to do.” David spits, the crate still locked in his arms. A smirk rode on his face as he cowarded behind Negan. I looked at Carl, pressing a gentle smile on my face. Confusion ran across his eyes; he shifted to face me slightly. 

“You know, cowboy, you grew some damn balls the last time I saw you.” I laughed, tipping his hat back. His face softened, and a smile crept along his face. “Come on, Carl, I promise you, no one will touch the medicine. Half is what he said, and half is what he means,” I whispered, unraveling the gun from his hand. 

I turned to David, taking a long step forward; his eyes widened as he realized that Negan would let me do it, taking the safety of the gun and putting it to his temple. “Put the shit down” his eyes flickered to Negan, who didn’t seem pleased with my sudden demonstration of leadership. “You know I’m good for it.” David curses for a moment, dropping the crate on the ground, his eyes fixed on me as he slowly exited the room. The door slammed behind him as we all listened to his retreating footsteps. 

“YN,” Carl finally lets out, and I turn to him with a wide smile. “YNN,” he finally whispers; I gasped softly as he slammed his body against me. His arms wrapped around me. I chuckled. 

“You’re still a troublemaker, I see” I whispered. 

“I can say the same about you!” he chuckles through his slight frenzy of emotions. 

“I hate to interrupt a touching moment, but this reminds me that, you all have way too many guns,” Negan states. Carl removes himself from me, his eyes shifting to Negan. 

“First, Michael is sick, I know it’s probably too much to ask-”

“No,” Rick interrupted me. “Let’s get him looked at,” he hummed; I nodded, whispering a thank you. A woman with glasses came in, shakingly looking at Negan and me. 

“Hi! I’m YN. That is Michael.” he shyly lifted his head off at the sound of his name, and I motioned her to come closer. She was hesitant for a moment, her eyes scanning the room. She was observing Negan; her hand trembled as she moved to adjust her glasses. “He’s been a little sick, with a bad cough. Negan over here thinks it is serious; he just gets sick easily. He hasn’t had any motivation to do anything but sleep and sometimes eat.” She nods, her hand gently brushing against his back as she tries to take him from Negan. He stiffens, locking his grip on Michael. Resting my hand against his shoulder, I squeeze. Negan’s eyes flickered over to mine, and he sighed content before letting the woman take Michael. 

“What about you, ma’am?” she whispered, setting Michael on a bed. She lay him on his back, her hand moving to his stomach, the left side of his chest, and the right. She turned to me, waiting for an answer. “You should let me check you before you go; the bruising around your eye doesn’t look too good,” she nods for a moment. 

Simply, I responded, “I’m fine.”

“How old is he?” Carl questions

“9 months, he’s so busy and wants to be around everything and see everything.” I laughed, my hands nervously playing with the hem of my shirt; I watched her examine him; the woman made faces at Michael as she poked and prodded him. He whined softly before settling into a soft laugh as she made a goofy face again. 

Carl grabbed my hand, “Hey! It’s going to be okay. If he’s anything like us, Grimes, he’s a survivor,” he hummed; I nodded – tightening my grip on his hand. The memories came flooding in Carl’s kindness towards me, Rick’s loyalty and love, Daryl’s abrasiveness and wit, Abraham’s might and crudeness, and Rosita’s sass and smile. I sucked in a sob as I watched continued to watch Michael. I missed the feeling of Glenn wrapping his arms around in a tight hug after a sleepless night, or Maggie always bringing me a cup of tea in the mornings and before bed. I wanted to kill Negan for taking them away, I wanted to bring him to his knees and make him beg forgiveness as I rammed his stupid ass bat against his head. I wanted him to watch the woman he loved the most murder him. His last memory on this earth, is me wielding Lucille against his skull. But I was weak; I couldn’t imagine my life without him. 

“Well! He’s alright, just a little hay fever; it’s growing increasingly hot outside the pollen and allergens are making him sick. We have some children’s Advil that might help his temperature; some tea and honey would be great. Might wanna keep him in fresh clothes.” I sighed in relief; I nodded rapidly, as she lifted him. ��We had some allergy medicine, non-drowsy, of course. I’ll make something to drink for him and get him a change of clothes, and he will be as good as new. But I wanna have a check-up in a week or so. Just to make sure," I moved to grab him, his smile overtaking his face, his hands slamming against my face with excitement as he squeals with glee. 

My eyes shifted to Negan; he stood against the back door. His eyes intensely staring at mine, he nodded briefly before looking away. “Come on, Rick, let’s go get my guns!” he promptly shouts, kicking himself off the door. 

I stared at Carl, we were left alone, and I had so much to say, but nothing came out. I wanted to beg for his forgiveness – I knew it wouldn’t amount to much. He smiled softly, nodding slowly as if he could read my thoughts. Somehow, he always could; he always felt like my first son, the way he clung to me after his mother passed. He would find his way into my room, whispering that he had a nightmare about his mother and Judith. “Don’t,” Carl whispered, tears streaming down his cheek as he nodded. “You don’t have to say it. I know.”

It was silence between us. “I was going into labor; I found my way into a mall. Negan and some of the guys, helped me give birth to him. They took me back to the Sanctuary, and I became Negan’s wife. I wanted to come back; I did — I just… I don’t know.” I whispered.

“It’s okay, YNN. Dad always knew you were out there. He said he was too hard to get rid of.” he laughed softly. 

“Show me around, cowboy.” We walked through the streets, talking about different things, his new life, and the small hobbies he had picked up before things went to hell: the relationships and the heartbreaks. 

I stopped him, grabbing his arm. “These people are dicks; they do this shit for dominance to make you feel weak. You aren’t weak. They want to leave with this feeling of hopelessness. He will come back, and when he does, don’t show fear. He feeds off of it. There’s a shanty ranch home, 15 miles north of here, Hutington. Have your father meet me there in 3 days.” He nods quickly; I unholstered my gun, passing it to him. “Please, be safe cowboy.” 

“I will,” he hums, pulling me into a tight hug. I heard a long, high-pitched whistle, my eyes shifting to Dwight as he motioned for me to follow him. Carl looks at me before, whispering goodbye. Slowly, I made my way to Dwight, his eyes seething with jealousy, a look he often carried with him. Daryl was standing in a position directly behind him as he watched me. I passed a sympathetic smile to him. 

“What were you doing with him?” he questioned. I scoffed momentarily, looking around before returning my gaze to him. 

“He’s my son,” I answered without another thought. Carl always felt like my son; when he first arrived on the farm, I helped nurse him back to health—telling him fables that my grandfather used to say to me. I brought him late-night snacks despite my father telling me to not get so attached to them. I remember the look Rick gave me when I pleaded his case for them to stay– I remember the slight touch that sent shivers down my spine and our first kiss after he killed Shane. “Your leader killed my friends and took their guns, beds, and everything else they wanted. He’s a tyrant, and you know this.”

“I’m not one shacking up with him.” he hisses, stepping in my face, his breath fanned against my nose as he towered over me. “You’re fucking him, for fucksakes, you’re pregnant with his child. Don’t think I notice, how you don’t drink or stand around me when I smoke. The oversized shirts you wear? I notice everything about you.” I could find his hand and tried to find a way in mine. “Or Is it mine?” 

I honestly didn’t know; it was one drunken night. Negan and I had gotten into a nasty fight over Michael. I pushed him, and he choked me; I remember him tossing me to the ground and storming out of the room. Dwight had visited me and asked me if I wanted to go on a run. It just happened. I don't regret it.

I sighed, looking away and noticing everyone gathering at the gate. Their chatter and humming, the teasing and provocation. Finally turning to him, he shifts, his head focused on me, “I love them, and I love him. No matter where I go, I will always be a part of this family,” I whispered to him before moving to Negan. I stood at Negan's side, staring at Rick for a moment. He looked at me, and nodded gently, mouthing a slight OK. 

“Oh-ho,” Negan calls out, “What the fuck is that?” he grabs me by the waist, yanking me closer to him. “Are you trying to get at my wife?” He laughs momentarily and harshly grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were delicate, full of curiosity and jealousy. He loosened his hold on my face, his thumb gently rubbing against my bruised cheek. Stunned, I stumbled back as he slammed his lips against mine. I didn’t kiss back; I stood their wide eyes and throbbing upper lip. He continued to kiss me, and soon, we fell into a rhythm, something that came so naturally to us. He pulled back and let out a slight howl. “You see that! She’s mine; I don’t know what you think… is going to happen, but she’s my wife.” 

I looked away from him, my head throbbing, my eyes burning for a moment as he continued with his speech. I closed my eyes briefly, sucking a deep breath before letting it fall against the air. I grew increasingly dizzy as the moments passed, and the longer I stood there, the more irritated I became. I drifted off in the background as Rick and Negan discussed formalities. I brushed past the Saviours as I moved to the truck. 

Night fell as quickly as I was back in my room, breastfeeding Michael, shutting my eyes as I rocked against the rocking chair. The soft sound of the chatter outside of the window calmed me slightly. The door slammed shut; I could hear his footsteps thudding against the ground. His boots slid off and tumbled against the floor. “I love you; I will never let Rick, Dwight, or any man have you. You mean everything to me; you’re mine, and I intend on keeping it that way.” I pried open my eyes, watching him through blurred vision. He stood there, leaning against the wall. 

I got up, placing Michael in a wooden crib covered with soft, thin blankets to prevent him from getting splinters as he would chew on the surroundings if he were up early enough. I tasked Dwight with finding me a different crib for him; after each run, whatever team partakes in, I always receive a report back with an update on any cribs. I brushed his hair out of his face; I tensed as I felt Negan’s body press against mine. I could feel the warmth radiating over me and his head nuzzled in my neck. His lips gently pecked at my skin, slowly as he moaned softly. His hands danced against my waist momentarily, pulling me back into the bedroom. I spun around to face him, noticing a look on his face. I could smell it on him. I chuckled for a moment, tossing my hand in his face. I moved our shared bed. 

Before I could make it to bed, his hand gripped my upper arm. I stumbled back into him. “Don’t walk away from me,” his voice was stern. “Stop walking away for me.” his voice now pleading. His grip loosened as his thumb gently caressed my skin. His hand swiftly moved to my neck –gasping, my hand immediately covered his. He forced my head to the left, our noses meeting slowly he brushed his against mine. “Stop walking away from me,” he repeats, his handcuffing my cheek. 

Our lips collided, my hands moving to his neck as I yanked him closer, letting our bodies tumble onto the bed. I crawled back, trying to keep our lips connected. He pulls back; I fall against the bed and watch him yank my pants down. He doesn’t speak; he usually never does. His fingers, moved on my thighs as he dragged me closer to him. I gasped softly, at the feel of his lips against my clit, his warm tongue tracing patterns as I grabbed his head. “Oh my-” I moaned softly, bucking my hips against my face. 

He kissed the inside of my thighs, moving to my stomach before, kissing my clit again, his finger slid inside me. Slowly he pumped, his knuckles pounding against my lips as he continued eating me out. Holding my breath, I let out disgruntled moans. My hands gripped the sides of his head before moving to my face, and my knuckles moved to my mouth as I bit down. I called out his name softly, he pushed my hand away shoving his finger into my mouth. He shoved it deeper into my mouth as he watched me choke on his finger, my eyes watered as my tongue moved to push his fingers out of my mouth, and yanking them out, I cursed at him. Shutting my legs slowly.

He moved back on top of me, his body weight resting on his hand. “Put it in,” he commanded; I sat there for a moment. My hand hesitantly moving to his dick, I grabbed at it, not bothering to jerk him off. I lined him up at my entrance; I tugged on my bottom, expecting him to shove it in as he usually does. His tip slowly slides in; his face contorts for a moment. 

He moves slowly; I gasp softly, taking sparse and sporadic breaths as he fills me. Finally, he puts all his weight on his forearm, his face closer to mine as he grabs my leg, tossing it around his waist. “I love you” he whispers, into my ear. His thrusts were slow and passionate; he moaned gently in my ear as he nibbled at my ears. “Do you love me?”, I opened my mouth but was interrupted by him thrusting into me. I struggled to push out a yes, my hands clawing at his back as I tightened my legs around his waist. 

“Say it” 

“I love you, D,” I paused, my heart thudding against my chest. I began to notice how heavier he was, how his stomach pressed against mine, and how he just stopped breathing. Fuck. He stopped thrusting; I could feel the anger seething from his skin. I didn’t know what to say. Should I just continue moaning? Should I be aloof?

He lifts himself, and I swiftly close my eyes, not wanting to meet his gaze. “I-I wasn’t thinking about him.” was all I mustered out. 

“No?” he chuckles, the cool air brushing against my body. He was leaving. “You’re fucking moaning his name when I’m fucking you,” he shouts; I look away. 

“You’re going to wake Michael,” I whispered, his footsteps thudding against the room. His hand gripped my arm as he pulled me up. I opened my eyes, watching him. 

“Do you love him?” His voice was eerily calm. 

“No,” I lied; of course, I did. I loved how he made me feel, how wanted he made me feel, and how precious I was to him. How he was so gentle with me, no matter what I did. But I would never love him the way I love Negan…No matter what this sadistic maniac does, I would never love anyone as I loved him.

He chuckles, tossing me back on the bed. “Fuck you YN.”

[justanoasisimagines]

Possessive Headcanon

Hey my lovelies back with another headcanon for heroes versus villians event. Credit to cafekitsune for the divider and banner

🎃Negan’s possessive of you. He wants people to know your his. No touching. No crude comments. He refuses to stand for it.

🎃Negan being possessive means anytime he can he’s going to reaffirm you belong to him. He does this is a couple of different ways.

🎃Whenever he enters a room the first thing he does is kiss you. He drags you by the hips, kissing you passionately. He doesn’t care who sees in-fact he wants people to watch the interaction.

🎃Whenever he’s seated in a room, Negan will pull you onto his lap.

🎃Negan using ‘my’ when talking about you. Reminding everyone you’re his.

🎃When people are out of line. He’s quick to remind them. He has a reputation to uphold and he doesn’t want people to think they can take from him.

🎃Negan keeps an eye out on who’s close to you. He watches out to make sure their intentions are good.

🎃Negan likes to leave his mark on you. So he’ll leave hickeys on your neck or any viewable skin.

🎃Negan likes you wearing his clothing.

🎃If someone does anything to disrespect you, he’ll make their life hell. He’ll give them the worst jobs to do. He’ll throw them in a cell. Negan will make sure they get the message to never mess with you again.

[ghostboneswrites2]

Would you guys be interested if I wrote a Negan fic?

I’m a Daryl girlie til I die & im not even into Negan like that but I have this idea for a Negan fic that I can’t get out of my head ssooooooooo