#Negan smith Twd

[babyhoney01]

oh no what’s happening to me I- 🚶🏾‍♀️..🧎🏾‍♀️…🐕

[dixonsgirl93]

Why TWD men would hold your hand:

Warnings: bit of angst, mentions of being a prisoner

Daryl Dixon

- He’d hold your hand to comfort you if you really needed it, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

- He’d hold your hand to pull you to safety/help you jump across a ledge or something.

- He’d hold your hand if they were cold, as skin-skin is the quickest way to stay warm (👀)

- He’d hold your hand to his chest if you were dying in his arms.

Negan Smith

- He’d hold your hand while doing The Nasty with you. Partly to keep your hands tied down and partly for the intimacy it offers.

- He’d hold your hand if you were his prisoner and he was taking you somewhere.

- He’d hold your hand to kiss it when you first met, being completely smitten at your appearance.

- He’d hold your hand when pinning you down forcefully (not to assault you) but to put you in your place if you were fighting back/being loud/being bratty etc.

Rick Grimes

- He’s also the type to hold your hand during intimacy, loving having you pinned under him.

- He’d hold your hand as you walked together, enjoying the reassuring feeling of having you close.

- He’d hold your hand to press his lips against it, enjoying the feel of your skin.

- He’d hold your hand to offer help, same as Daryl. His touch would linger for just a moment too long.

Merle Dixon

- He’d hold your hand as he flirted with you, trying to seduce you in the only way he knew how.

- He’d hold your hand to pull you in close to his body.

- He’d hold your hand to pull you to safety (if he really had to or if he found you attractive)

- He’s not really a romantic guy at heart, is not used to the soft kind of love but he might hold your hand to comfort you if you were upset/panicked (right after teasing you of course)

- He might hold your hand for a moment while you were on the back of his motorbike on a ride (I’m so upset we never got to see him on it)

[branbrann]

GUYS IDK IF ITS THE MASK KINK IN ME BUT ID STILL FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF WHISPERER NEGAN. AND THE MASK STAYS ON.

[thewritersaddictions]

Bases: Negan Smith- Chapter 1 Her

Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader

Pov: Negan

Warnings: boundaries push, touching, cocky comments, the walking dead, zombies, trigger warnings, almost dying, special treatment, the wives, jealousy, being saved; Simon mentioned a little bit, maybe Dwight too, and Negans wives. masturbation,

Summary: Negan meets you when you come to the sanctuary doors. Wary of you at first he takes to watching you, and boy does he get interested quickly.

A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 3.2k

The Walking Dead Master List // The Wanderers Master List // Series Master List

Y/n tries to catch her breath, but she just can’t seem to. Everything around her is swaying with her every step. She feels the sun pour through the sky, and it just ends up beating her up as she walks in the middle of the road. Trees line each side, giving no shade for her overheating body. She walks until she hears the indicators of the walkers; the sound grows louder the more she wanders due North. She worries for a moment until she sees a tall building that probably used to be a factory before the world went to shit. Then the sound of cars, the sounds of people. 

People! She doesn’t care if she doesn’t have enough energy to get to the gates; she’ll push through the hoarse voice from no water for at least the past few nights and days. She’ll push until someone picks her up from the searing hot cement underneath her. She manages to make it to the gate; her face is flush, and she ends up waving down what looks like a post guard. “Do you know where you are, Miss?” It’s a guy no older or younger than she is before Y/n can answer though she’s collapsing to the ground. She’s worn herself out before just making it. 

There’s a knock at the door, which means some shit is happening that Simon or some other fucknut doesn’t know how to handle. The knock on the door is different, rushed, almost a worried knock. “Come in.” I don’t look up until the person starts to talk; like always, it’s Simon. “Boss, um, we’ve got a problem.” My brow arches as I stare at Simon with a deathly glare. “A problem?” It’s not really a question, and Simon knows it. He just nods, and we walk in steadfast with each other. Lucille sits over my left shoulder. People quickly advert their stare as we step outside in the blaring heat of the Georgia sun. 

There’s a small, growing crowd around something rather intriguing. “Move outta the way, dingbats,” Simon shouts rather loudly in my ear as I look into the center of the growing crowd. “What’s this?” I ask one of the guards. His gun is slung around his back, the nose of the sniper pointing towards the ground. “I’m not sure, Duke over there said this girl waved and then collapsed outside the gates.” More intrigue. “Let me see.” The crowd moves, giving me a perfect view of the ‘girl’ lying on the hot ground. “You,” I say, pointing with the bat's end cap. The guy, ‘Duke’ visible, swallows, “She um… she was running towards the gate, and tried to wave at me, but before she could answer any of my questions, she just knocked out, hit the ground pretty hard too, Sir.” The guy says. I move Lucille making room for me to bend to my knees and get a more impersonal look at the ‘girl’ layin’ on the ground. 

Her skin is red and peeling in some places on her face and shoulders. Her hair is out of her face. Her face looks almost hollow like she hadn’t had water in days, maybe weeks. But she’s wearing what looks like an excellent proper pair of boots and jeans, and the first thing I think of next is, “Did ja check for bites?” I ask the whole crowd, and the Duke guy answers again. “Already checked her out, nothing, no bites or anything, Sir.” He says; I motion for Simon to come over, “Why was this so fuckin’ important, huh Simon?” he glides a hand through his messy hair. “Cause I figured you want to say what happened to the girl.” Simon never really gave a shit, didn’t take orders to well, and somehow always managed to not fuck up but still fuck up my shit. 

“Yeah, dumbass take her to the damn doc. What the hell you waiting on me to say that for.” I mutter to myself as I watch the two post guards pick her body up stiffly. Causing the both of them to alost tumble over. I roll my eyes at the action. “Simon.” I shove the bats handle into his hand. “You tow lacklys, get back to work i’ve got her.” The inner monologue tells me that I know it will always be me who has to take care of the dark shit, the bad shit, and the good shit. Nobody else. Simon close behind me, as the women lay limp in my arms. 

She had yet to open her eyes as the cool air inside the sanctuary hit her cheeks, her arms, and any other exposed skin. She didn’t even rustle as I walked her limp body through the doorway. “Dr. Carson, you can stop whatever the fuck you’re doin’ now. Help this women here.” I set her down on the cot, her head falling back along with her hair into the shitty pillow provided in this makeshift ER. “What… What happened?” Dr. Carson wasn’t the village idiot by any means, but it would nice if for once I didn’t have to tell the damn idiot what happened and he could just go do his fucking job. “Carson, just do your fuckin’ job or I swear to the god that probably fucked off already I will make your postion available again.” He shook his head, and got to work. Simon handed Lucille back to me, as I took a seat in those uncomfortable waiting chairs. 

“Looks like she has some burns some serious” Carson said looking over at me. An arch brow, and he was on the way to solving the whole damn thing, “Nothing a little bit of antibotic cream can’t fix. She’s also very dehydrated, so I’ll need to get her pumped with some fuilds before she can… before she’s well enough to talk with you Sir.” Carson mumbled out, I nodded my head and started to turn out of the room. “You said she needs fluids.” Carson nods his head, as he goes to get bandages wraps for her burns. “Bring her to my room, we should show our new guest the best care, right Carson?” He nodded with angst. 

“Are you sure… Sir, do you think that’s the best course of action. We don’t even know where this fuckin’ lady is from” Simon as his ratty, trash talkin’ fucking mouth never shut the hell up sometimes. I turned quickly catching his normal leaned back attitude off guard. “I think you would know me by now Simon. It’s a game, it’s always a fuckin’ game.” Simon stood still for a moment, and then nodded. 

An hour later there was a knock on my bedroom door. “It’s Dr. Carson with the Jane Doe.” He said through the door. I rolled my eyes, the clink of the gin bottle hitting the glass table rang my ears as I got up opening the door. This time two much larger guard held the Jane Doe on a cot. Less prone for her fall and get even more hurt. “You said you wanted her here sir?” Carson asked as if the first time I said wasn’t good enough for him. I look over at the Jane Doe. Her shoulder all the way down to her arms are covered in the white bandages. Her face isn’t though which is nice. “Come on in then.” I open the door wide enough for the large men to walk her in and place her on the couch adjacent of the bed. “I’ll get some fluids going in her and then I can come back in a few…” I cut him off, “No need doc, I’ve got it from that point. Don’t need someone in and out of my fuckin’ room every couple of hours.” He nods his head vigorously. I know what I’m doing, and there’s more I wanna know about this mystery Jane Doe. 

“Well hello there sweetheart.” The women in front of me is opening her eyes. It took nearly two days to get to this point. For nearly two days I have extra patrol out making sure that nobody followed this young women here. No need to be gettin’ ambushed right now. Her eyes go wide and when she opens her mouth to talk nothing comes out. Her nails scrap at her throat. “You need something to drink?” I’m quick to get up and gather a glass of water for her. Her hands are clammy when they graze past mine to collect the cold cup of water. The needle in her arms ache I can tell just from the look on her face. “We’ll take that out later, but for now why don’t you not rush your recovery.” I said as soft as I can. She looks like someone just told her that the world was starting all over again. 

She clears her throat, and for the first time I hear her voice. It’s angelic is a soft, fairy sort of way. “Where am I?” She ask looking around the room. “A settlement, the Sanctuary.” She looks over at me, beautiful eyes shining back at me. For the first time it’s odd to around a women who isn’t appalled by me, or faking it all together. She pure, and innocent in so many moldable ways. “I promise that i’ll be out of your hair before you even know that I was here.” She promises me, I humm. Then look over at her fluid drip, and the bandages on her body. “I was thinkin’ that you could stay here for a while. At least get yourself settled before you go back out in that hot Georgia sun. 

“So Miss Jane Doe, do you got a name?” I ask her as my words sink into her head. She clears her throat again taking another large gulp of water to coat her throat. “My name is um…Y/n.” She says with a little smile. “And you wer travelin’ alone out there?” I ask her, “Yeah.” She says nodding, she looks far of into the distance staring up at one of the ceiling tiles. As if she’s remembering someone she’s lost. I clear my own throat bringing her attention back to me. “I’ve ask that the doc, keep you here in my room. I wouldn’t suggest that you go out right now. Dr. Carson and I agree that you’re a little too fragile for that eveiormnet right now.” I said coaxing her into a choice she had no say in. She nodded, “My pack?” She asks, “I almost forgot.” I reach behind the coch she’s laying on. “Thanks.” She says with a small smile, and once more our hands graze each others. 

Hours later after a rather a surface level introduction with Y/n about where she came from, why she didn’t have anything other then a knife, and what the Sanctuary was about. There’s a soft knock on the door. It causes Y/n to shiver with anxiety. “It’s alright sweetheart, don’t worry about anyone trying to get ya.” “Can I come in, Negan?” I know that damn voice, Frankie. I boil over with anger and before I can get to the damn door Frankie is opening it. A sliky black dress drapped over her frame. I catch Y/n out of the corner of my eye; staring and watching the interaction between the two us. “Negan, I haven’t seen you in a few days…” Frankie stops short in her sentence. Scwoling at Y/n, as if she understands what the hell is going on either of them. “Frankie, go. I have a guest.” I say strongly grabbing her bicep and pushing her out of the room. 

The slam of door makes Y/n shriek, and when i turn to look at her she’s got her head cocked. “Who was that?” She asks timidly. “A… um… it’s just Frankie.” I finally manage to mumble out. “When was the last time you had a good bed to lay down in?” I ask in deperate need to change the subject. I don’t know just yet how to explain the wives to her, but then again when have I ever felt the need to explain myself to anyone. I push the feeling away, bury it in my stomach. Deep down. She shifts swinging her legs to the edge of the couch. She’s got pretty long legs even from the thick jean material that hid them. “I’d say at least since the first or second month of this shit.” I huff a laugh out, “Well how about this sweetheart. I’m gonna take this IV out, and patch you all up so you can get a good nights rest.” “But what about…” I shake my head. “I’ll take the couch, it’s been a while since I’ve booted to the couch anyways.” I jokingly say. 

Carson had left a few supplies here for me whenever Y/n was going to wke up so I could remove the IV, and bandage her up. As I do her skin is soft as least not where she’s been wrapped up with bandages. “So what was wrong with me?” She asks as she stares at my working hands. “You got a hell of a sunburn all up and down your shoulder and arms. Some antibiotic cream should fix ya up real quick.” I tell her, “And plus you were super fuckin’ dehydrated, what the hell were you doing running a fuckin’ marathon?” She giggles at my question as I tape down the gauze to make sure the blood doesn’t leak into anything. 

“Do you have extra clothes in that pack of yours?” I ask Y/n, she looks down and dig around. A minutes passes, and another, “Look mary poppins I don’t think there’s anything else the damn bag.” I might be getting a little frastrated, “So I’d take that as a no.” She nods her head. I whip myself around. Shifting through draws and a small closet of my clothes. “For tonight you can borrow somethin’ of mine. Sweats, and a long t-shirt so your bandages don’t come off during the night, Sweethearts.” I say passing her the clothes. Y/n stares down at them, and she get a little shy, well a lot shy. Bitting and pulling on her bottom lip. “Bathroom is over here sweetheart.” I watch as she walks towards the bathroom, and then the door shuts. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask myself. Dragging my hands down my face. There’s a shuffle from behind the bathroom door. “All good in there?” I ask, willing my voice not to break. I feel like a high school kid all over again with a stupid high school crush. “Um…” her voice sounds so tiny behind the door. “I don’t think this is gonna work.” She says shyly through the door. I stand to open the door, but she does before I can manage it. My long sleeve is loose on her frame, and the sweats don’t even take on her hips, but I guess that’s alright since the long sleeve is so big on her it acts as a dress. “That’s all good doll, how about I help ya get to bed.” I say reaching out my hand for her to grab. 

Yet again her hands are baby soft, like she’s never been outside a day in her life. No broken calluass, or rough patches. With our hand interlocked I walk her to the side of the bed. Moving the sheets back so she can easily get under the covers. She isn’t graceful about the plop down the bed. “A water bed!?” She asks, I actually laugh, “I wish sweetheart!” As Y/n shifts her legs to get under the covers and onto my side of the bed. I get a flash of her pink worn panties. 

I have to swallow down the groan of sexual frautration, maybe I should have taken Frankies offer. Pushed her outside the door, and fucked her stupid mouth shut. I shake my head, and I watch as Y/n starts to get snuggled into the cool fabric. I don’t grab the other pillow fromthe bed, I just make my way towards the couch. Cleaning up the medial mess I made earlier. I lean back into the coch, closing my eyes and all I can see is the pink panites. The coarse hair that prickled to come through the fabtic.

My cock stirs to life in my tights blue jeans. I can’t see Y/n’s face due to the dim lights in the room, but her snores are a good alert that’s she fast asleep. I close my eyes again and the flash of her nipples through the old shirt of mine makes me swallow down a moan. A hard on from a girl I know nothing about, a fuckin high school kid. All I can think of is the pink pussy that lays behind the pink panties, the tits that would bounces as I fucked her raw. I unzip my jeans, and pop my hard cock from my boxers. 

The tip is leaking pre-cum that I end up just using as lube. Pumping myself slowly at first until my eyes fall shut and all I can imagine is the sounds that Y/n would make when I fucked her up agaisnt the headboard. Or how good her pussy probably tasted. My cock is coated with my pre-cum, and so is my hand. The sounds are delicious, the sound of the squelching as the soft pad of my thumb over over the head of my cock and I end up just a pile of fuck, shits, and graons as I come all over my chest. 

“Fuck.” My breath is ragged, I haven’t come that since I was much younger and a whole lot ballsier. I throw my shirt off my shoulder and wipe down my tummy, and chest. Discarding the ruined shirt to a pile of other thrown clothes.

Completed on: 08/10/23

Posted on: 08/12/23

Bases Tags- @clararangel @lanad3lrey-l0v3r @jdmsgorl @scarlett-widows-89 @idk1idk2idk @kaits-diary @whatsssss @daryldixonluvr @oceanablue @chelseypprimrose @freedomfighterlex @sageworld @ayeizzshayla @123avengersandmarvel @charlie19690 @sweetvixensstuff @lanceisrandom @redscreendarkwin @finalgirlmp3 @fullwattpadmusictree @harmonib @rainyzonkmakerlover @ge0rgzs @julimariett @amazingmaeve @kpoplover4life @definitelynotyagmur @rivernell @vanilla88 @alteredgalaxy @thatonefroggirl @kyleepsposts @max-505 @nhayoshii

[aliidarling]

THIS MAN IS SOOOO FINE OH MY GOD

[loganlostitall]

Negancore (with references this time)

[bluemerakis]

┃Welcome to TWD masterlist ☠︎︎ ┃

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⤷ bluemerakis ᡣ𐭩

Who I write for : Negan Smith, Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Maggie Greene, Rosita Espinosa

Requests: Open for all

「 NEGAN SMITH 」

FICS :

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ONE SHOTS :

☠︎ Nothing left to lose

DRABBLES :

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EDITS :

☠︎ 111

「 RICK GRIMES 」

FICS :

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ONE SHOTS :

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「 DARYL DIXON 」

FICS :

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「 ROSITA ESPINOSA 」

FICS :

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「 MAGGIE GREENE 」

FICS :

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⤷ All headers & dividers made by me!

「 BACK TO NAVIGATION 」

[twigg96]

Ashes

Negan x Reader

Song fic based on Ashes by The Longest Johns

POV: You/Negan

Pronouns: You, Wife

Warnings: Negan being Negan, Angst, Loss of Self, Death, Character Death, Major Character Death, TWD realness, gore, blood, emotional abuse, physical abuse, cheating, adulatory, misogyny, loss, grief, the use of Lucile, Glenn and Abraham scene, Spoilers for OG show, Major Canon Divergence

Summary: The story of the love you and Negan had and lost. The rise and fall of Negan and the Saviors to Rick as taken from your perspective as his first wife.

Watch that old fire as it flickers and dies

A strong arm wrapped around your waist guiding you to safety as heavy sobs ripped through your body. The flames burned your skin as you buried your face in the wet rag you husband provided you. The smell of burnt wood filled the air and your lungs making you both cough and gag as you ran as fast as you could. The feeling of your clothes singing and catching with the flames was a pain miniscule compared to the emotional pain.

That once blessed the household and lit up our lives

Looking to your once bountiful dining room table you tried to imagine when was the last you both felt happy. Before the illness rolled through the town and took the lives of your neighbors and you had to board up your doors. Before you had to ration what you had and the heating oil had run out. Before Negan started using the fireplace to heat the house in the winter with the wooden furniture you had in the house. Bursting through the threshold Negan and you turned to the house you both once called a home. Memories rose with the smoke. You tried your damnedest to hold back your wails but they slipped though.

It shone for the friends and the clinking of glasses

Singed photographs fluttered down in the wind as if taunting your despair. Your wedding photo, photographs of the two of you graduating together, your daughter's baby picture all turning to ash in front of you. The glass windows of your home burst out with the heat and you could hear the glass inside your house shattering as the wood holding it gave out. The roar of the flames was all encompassing and even from several feet away the heat was too much.

I'll tend to the flame, you can worship the ashes

From deep within the white flames that licked and ate the home you and Negan once built for yourself, emerged a small figure. It's skin badly burnt. It's eyes glazed over. You screamed trying to run over to it, to her. But Negan's strong arms held you firmly in place. His face was twisted in heart wrenching anguish as he pulled you to the ground with him. "It's not her." He chanted like a prayer to you despite the way his voice cracked and broke with pain. Pushing your head down so you were facing the damp ground he ran his hands through your hair. "Stay here... I-I'll be back."

Capture the wild things and bring them in line

Your husband was never the same after that night... but neither were you. Negan's heart for anyone besides you had hardened. The two of you searched the area for anything you could use. Negan found a bat that he lovingly named Lucille and wrapped in barbed wire. Together you made a name for yourselves. The Saviors. It started off innocently enough. You went around offering your services to take down walkers and... people that were causing problems to those that gave you both shelter for the night. Over time you realized... you were good at what you did.

And own what was never your right to confine

Negan... gathered the souls of people who were the most helpful to him and his cause. It started by recruiting. Offering jobs and expanding his little empire. Soon you were traveling with twenty to thirty people at a time. All of those that swore their loyalty to Negan, even going so far as to take his first name. It unnerved you some. But you would never say it out loud. Not when the fear of loosing so much was at stake. But the first time came that Negan wanted someone. Their family, or a group holding them back from coming between them following him and leaving. Negan became irate. He made his men hold the "recruit's" family down, guns at the ready. You felt sick watching.

The lives and the loves and the songs are what matters

When it was all over, the blood still warm and fresh and your adrenaline still high you pulled your husband aside. "This isn't right." You tried to reason. "We need to stay unified. focus on the good. Not tear apart other families." You begged. But your pleas fell on deaf ears. He just squinted his eyes at you. "Are you questioning me? After everything I did for you?" He asked, his voice dripping in a venom that you heard him use with his men but never you. Flinching away you tried to stand strong.

I'll tend to the flame, you can worship the ashes

"No I would never..." You whispered, turning your gaze to the ground as he stepped closer, the light of the camp fire eliminating his figure. Leaning closer you could feel his breath hot and heavy on your ear through your hair. "Prove it." He whispered. Your eyes widened as the men all around you both jeered and snickered. "W-What?" You asked blinking up at him confusedly. Negan sneered down at you. "You heard me. I want you my wife, to prove your loyalty to me..." He muttered confidently, pointing that nasty bat at you. But you stood tall glaring at Negan. "C'mon, darling. I had all my boys say it. Now. It's your turn. If you don't..." He took a practice swing that made you wince away, hot tears stinging your eyes. You felt your bottom lip quivering as you tore your eyes from Negan's. "I-I am your wife Negan." You whimpered. But that wasn't enough. Stepping closer Negan grasped your hair. "Say it." He growled, his eyes glimmered in the flames. "I am Negan." Your voice wavered in fear as he released you.

Do you feel heavy? Your eyes drop with grief

Staring in terror and grief down at the closest thing you made to a friend in this hell you tried your damnedest not to let your sobs escape your throat. You tried to ignore the way his blood soaked through the all too tight black dress Negan forced you to wear. His mangled corpse laid still bleeding as his widow was held back by her hair and body. Her wails and screams echo against the empty alley you all stand in. Negan pranced around his corpse for a moment. "Damn what a pretty picture." He said coyly, pointing Lucile at you. "Look at how hot my wife looks right now... that's right my. wife... Keep it in mind when anyone wants to try and touch her again." He growled turning to the widow. "Take her home. I think I want to make that hottie my wife too." He said a smirk blooming across his face as his eyes meet yours and your heart breaks ever the more.

Your spirit is wild and your suffering is brief

Changing into more comfortable clothing within the confines of your little room in the Sanctuary you sighed. You had never thought it when it when it first started but once Negan took on more wives, and more communities his attention had been split more ways than he had time for. There were often times you didn't see him for days now. Confined to your room in the Sanctuary, along with the other wives. In the beginning you would never had dreamt of this. You had thought you would have been crumpled to the ground, wailing or whimpering begging for him to come home if he ever left you. But now as you stood before your full length mirror, holstering your knife to your side you felt stronger and more sure of yourself than you have in a long time.

So never you buckle and bend to the masses

Slipping out of the door as silently as you could you crept to the side door hoping to avoid the front gates covered with walkers and guarded by Negan's recruits. A strong hand grasped your shoulder, halting you in front of the solid metal door. A small gasp escaped your lips as you turned to face the man with the fresh burns on his face. Dwight... the poor man. You pitied him just as much as he did you. His wife was captive by your husband. Pulling the key to your rook from your lanyard you handed it you him. "Give it to your wife when you leave. I don't know when he'll be back. Just don't be seen, and tell her I'll knock when I return." You order taking the side door key in return. With a silent nod he exchanged your room key for the door key letting you slip by seemingly unnoticed.

I'll tend to the flame, you can worship the ashes

When Negan was away the prisoners and recruits all turned to you for leadership. At first you turned them away. You hated what your husband had done to them and refused to be apart of it. But as time wore on... you felt obligated to give them guidance and hope when it seemed like there was none to be had. You tried to keep up a facade around Negan's most loyal followers. You threatened punishments equal or more extreme than your husband. But you were never pushed so far. You helped those around the prison do their chores so that they wouldn't be punished when Negan returned tired and ready to use his fists. You treated the sick and patched the wounded. You made a name for yourself in the prison. The Kind.

Get round the fire with a glass of strong ale

If there was one thing you admired about your husband it was his ability to provide for the people he had accumulated. It wasn't right the way he did it... but it wasn't right to let good food go to waist simply because it was stolen either. And so you tried your best to cook and provide for the people. Your people you came to realize. Those that looked up to you. When it was your turn you always had the least on your plate. You always wanted to make sure everyone's bellies were full before your own.

And tell us a story from beyond the pale

The children who ran around all day came to sit around at night. Those who had only known of the dead that rose asked you and others what it was like before. You tried to give them stories to dream to. To dream to and thrive to. You told them of Great Libraries with their knowledge of plenty. You told them of movie theatres where pictures larger than life that moved on the wall and showed of life in other far away places. Restaurants with all the food they could ever wish for. Some of the children refused to believe such a reality ever existed. Others stared in awe telling you that they would make the world better so that they could get back to that dream.

Bury some seeds and expect some strong branches

When Negan brought back seeds instructing you to use them up by the time he returned. You knew just what to do with them. You instructed the prisoners that worked inside the prison to follow you to the back of the Sanctuary. Digging down as deep as your fingers would let you into the cold earth you instructed them to plant the seeds in lines of like veggies. All day the prisoners worked, planting the seeds and sewing them into the earth. Rain fell from the sky, watering the hope you held for the future as you ushered the prisoners back inside.

I'll tend to the flame, you can worship the ashes

Watching the plats grow was one of the most fulfilling feelings you felt in a long time. The children ran and played in the gardens. The little vegetables while too early to pick were good to look at and good motivation for the others to do well at their chores and eat well in the evening. But when you awoke to the smell of smoke rolling through your window you knew that your hopes were shattered and the future was irrevocably changed. Walking out into yard you were met face to face with your pissed off husband. "Which one of you idiots planted these?!" He yelled pointing to the roaring flames that once was the garden. "I did." You muttered stepping forward. Negan glared at you eyeing you seriously. "And what, pray tell did you do that?" He hissed stepping toe to toe with you. But you didn't back down. You refused to. "You told us to do something with the seeds... so w- I did." You said trying to keep your expression as neutral. Negan's face contorted into one of anger and rage. It looked forced. His once bright eyes were dull and emotionless. "Don't do it again..." He muttered, pushing past you to let you watch your future burn in front of you alone.

Now show me a man that can meet all his needs

When you first heard of the man known only as Rick you had believed he would meet his end the same way so many others had before. That his head would be crushed. His community shattered. Or worse. He'd kneel with no issue and his people used as cattle to provide for Negan's ever growing greed. But as time went on and some of Negan's right hand men started to go missing. The outposts raided and destroyed. You had to admit that you felt a little hopeful that someone lived out in the world that could really and truly stand up to your husband. But as his group was stopped, people slaughtered and he was brought to his knees you turned away trying not to let your tears fall for people you didn't know.

For what we need most now is unity's seed

Rick's right hand man was brought back as some sick prize for Negan to parade around the Sanctuary. Daryl Dixon. He was strong willed and even more loyal to his brother. Even when Negan offered him a positions by his side by simply uttering the words you had so long ago, Daryl refused. And for it he was tortured and mutilated. You were relieved when you heard Dwight was his guard. You knew he wouldn't be as harsh as some of the others especially when you offered some time alone with his wife to take it easy on the newcomer. With Negan around more often it was more difficult for you to move around undetected. But you still managed to bring real food to Daryl whenever you had the chance. He didn't trust you and why would he? You didn't trust who you had become either.

A common old song for all creeds and all classes

Sherry had come to you long ago with her wants to escape. It was something she had been planning since the beginning of her capture but with Dwight's torture it was hard for her to break free without him. The day Negan left to face Rick alone, you set the plan in motion. Sherry would take Daryl and run. Just them. You would stay and be an alibi for Dwight. The man would be hunted and killed if all three of them left. Daryl ran into you on his way out. "Why?" He growled. "Because... I believe in you."

I'll tend to the flame, you can worship the ashes

When Negan returned, to say he was pissed was an understatement. But he hid it well. You explained your alibi to him for Dwight. And while it worked for the mean time, when D. went missing looking for Sherry, Negan didn't seem too pressed to find him. His eyes were trained on you. Keeping you close to him for the first time in years he told you at night when you both laid under the covers it was to keep you safe. That he was thinking about you the entire time. But you could see the caged look in his eye that an animal gets when trapped. But still, ever the good wife, you held your husband close and stroked his hair trying to sooth him even when the hatred burned inside of you like a raging forest fire.

I'll tend to the flame

When Rick came with all of his men and all of his people ready to attack the Sanctuary you met Daryl's eyes from where he stood hidden. You worked tirelessly to prepare the men in the Sanctuary to fight. To be ready. When the first shot broke the anxious silence you simply snapped your fingers and the guns on the side of the Saviors turned. Negan stood wide eyed in their sights. "W-What-" He stammered, trying to clammer his way out of it. But it was over. You were over. "It done." You muttered, pointing to Rick's people you raised your hands in surrender. "We're done fighting." In return for turning over those who were still loyal to Negan and the man himself, you were given your freedom. "A life for a life." Rick had said. A policy you yourself didn't believe in anymore. Silently you wished they had killed you and your husband. Only you knew the horrors that you both had committed. But they were firm on their decision of repentance. You were still a prisoner and had to prove your worth but for now... in a sense you were free.

What will we do when the world it is ending

Standing in front of the makeshift prison they had in Alexandria you glared down at your husband. Years had passed since you last seen him. You had no real urge to until now. The Whisperers were moving in fast. Crossing your arms in front of your chest defensively you refused to ask for help. But instead, sat in the icy cold rusted metal that sat across the basement from Negan. "You should be in here with me." He tried to blame you. But you knew this for a fact. "I know..." You whispered back, your breath catching in the cold and floating all around you. "I heard that there is someone bigger out there now... heard it through the bars." Negan muttered pointing to the window. "There is." You said pointedly. "Got a plan?" He asked a smirk blossoming on his face. "Don't think you could'a handled them, Ne..." you stated honestly shaking your head solomly, using your old nickname for him. It halted him. He stared up at you with wide eyes, realision crossing his face. "I never-" he started, but you cut him off. "Don't." You shook your head, standing up. "Listen... let me help." He urged, scrambling to his feet. But you shook your head walking over to the doorway to let Morgan back in. "I'm sorry this was a waist of both of... well my time."

And time it is halted for friend and for foe?

Years and years passed still. Negan never once saw you in his cell. Every time he asked for you he was denied. He believed that truly you hated him. And why wouldn't you... after all he did. He hated himself too. When he was released from prison by Carol and told to bring her the head of the one they called Alpha. He hated being told what to do... but he knew this bitch. The Saviors had a run in with them when they were a little piss ant of a community. They were tough even then and he was ready for payback. Doing as he was told he returned expecting to be thrown back in his cell. But when they give him the second chance he is taken aback. Days pass in his new life. He wasn't expecting you to just run into his arms but when you never showed up at all it worried him.

Try to hold on to the time as it passes

Walking up to Carol he cleared his throat announcing his presence. "Hey." he muttered to the grey haired woman. She didn't smile or greet him instead she nodded, eyeing him warily. "Was wondering if ya seen my wife around here somewhere..." Negan muttered, wincing away at the glare Carol sent him. "Which one? None of them want to see you." She bit back. Negan nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. He supposed he deserved that. "[Y/N]." He stated softly, watching as Carol's face softened some. "Oh..." She whispered so softly it was barely audible. "No one told you yet?" She asked. "Told me what?"

I'll tend to the flame, you can worship the ashes

Walking side by side through Alexandria Carol escorted Negan to a large but beautiful expanse of land. The grass and flowers grew vibrantly but it was all dulled by the makeshift crosses scattered across the field.

I'll tend to the flame, you can worship the ashes

Leading Negan by the wrist past various graves marked with crosses and carved names Carol stopped by a large but old evergreen tree. It cast it's shade over the graves cooling the heat of the day making it barrable to stand.

I'll tend to the flame, you can worship the ashes

Pointing to a little grave directly under the tree Carol frowned. "She died protecting everyone. She went a hero." Carol tried to console him. But the burning in his chest was overwhelming and the cry that escaped his throat was inevitable as he crumbled to his knees. Gripping the grass around the grave he begged and pleaded for you to come back. For it to be a joke. But when only the whistling of the pines responded he knew... He only had himself to blame.

[goldenispunk]

[babyhoney01]

this is giving you find a random polaroid camera and start taking pictures of Daryl

[dixonsgirl93]

You’re getting intimate with TWD men, would they care if you hadn’t shaved (anywhere)?

(Because duh, your main priority is staying alive, not being well groomed)

Daryl Dixon

He doesn’t care. He doesn’t even notice tbh. All he sees is your body in front of him, clothes peeling away, revealing all of your precious curves.

He’ll kiss the hair on your thighs before going down on you, not caring about the hair between your legs.

He’ll pin your arms above your head and not care about your hairy pits.

He understands it’s about survival and as long as you’re clean enough, he’s happy to be naked with you.

Rick Grimes

He doesn’t care. He also understands it’s primarily about survival. Even in a safe place with water like Alexandria or Commonwealth, he respects if you don’t want to shave. For whatever reason you have.

Before the apocalypse, he loved his women smooth as butter. He wouldn’t judge or be grossed out if you didn’t shave though. But since the outbreak, his tastes have changed, he has changed.

He would put your hairy legs over his shoulders while he fucked you good, even pressing his lips against your leg.

He might prefer if you were trimmed between your legs, but again he’ll deep dive regardless, savouring your taste.

Negan Smith

Pre-defeat/Sanctuary Negan would have teased you about it. He wouldn’t be mean about it, more like, “we have the resources, so why haven’t you?”

Post-defeat Negan wouldn’t care. He’d soak up your attention and give just as much, if not more, back.

He’d kiss you all over, murmuring how beautiful and sexy you are.

He’d put you in all sorts of positions, not caring about your hair at all.

Merle Dixon

He’d definitely make some comments about it, teasing you about becoming a wolf or something. When you’d tease back about not only being hairy like an animal, he’d smirk and get right back to kissing you.

He wouldn’t care that much, maybe preferring you to be a little trimmed at least. (Which is cheeky of him to say but unsurprising)

He’d put you in whatever position he wanted and fuck you senseless anyway.

He wouldn’t bring any attention to your hair afterwards but would definitely be surprised if next time you’d put some effort in, teasing you about looking good for him.

[branbrann]

I WANT THEM BOTH AT THE SAME TIME RAWDOGGING ME BUTT BOOTY NAKED I NEED IT I CRAVE IT

[thewritersaddictions]

Bases: Negan Smith- Chapter 2 Skin

Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader

Pov: Negan Smith

Warnings: Drinking, kisses, making out, more physical touches, undressing, baby steps, groping, shirts only off, fighting, angst, fluff, smut, tit for tat, supply run, zombies, the walking dead, Virgin!Reader, consenting adults.

Summary: After a night of drinking between you and Negan. It ends with the both of your shirtless, and Negans hands all over your bare skin.

A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 3.6k

The Walking Dead Master List // The Wanderers Master List // Series Master List

The hot sun has not taken a rest yet. Y/n has gotten used to the time living and being around the sanctuary, but she’s aching to go back out. Her freedom out there differed from the freedom inside the gates and walls surrounding her. Keeping her protected. Y/n isn’t used to the protective feeling she gets from the older man that has taken her under his wing. He’s made it his mission to be there for her, and when Y/n arrived with nothing but the pack on her back. Negan did it all for her. Clothes, food, and safety. It was all for her, and Y/n wasn’t sure she understood why this man had taken such an interest in her. 

“Y/n, let's go.” Negans voice pulled her from her thoughts. She shook her head and followed behind the man like a lost puppy following the most excellent person it had met. She enjoyed how Negan spoke to her compared to all of the others. He was gentle with her, kinder with his words. Negan made her melt, but she wasn’t sure what that meant. Y/n had noticed a few things about the man who had her attention. He always carried around his bat named ‘Lucille’ and always had his hand on her waist. Keeping her impossibly close to his side at all times. It made flips happen in her tummy; her cheeks were warm every time Negan touched her. 

Y/n looked dazed as she follows behind me. I don’t like the idea of her being to far off from my grasps, and she doesn’t seem to bother it either. It will continue like this until she says otherwise. I chuckle at my own thoughts, I hadn’t really given a shit about what any other person for a long time. It was important that I was unforgiving, and gave no shits. I don’t know why all the sudden I cared, I cared like she mattered to me. Her squeaky voice pulled me my thoughts as we continued to walk outside. “Where are we going, Negan?” A few heads perked up, ignoring them I looked over at her. Her lips were plush, and thick lashes bounced on her cheeks. 

“We are going on a supply run, sweetheart.” I opened the truck door. She stood waiting, “Come on we haven’t got all day long.” I said ushering her into the cab of the truck. She moved quickly, and when I got in after her on the other side. She was silent. “You aren’t just dropping me off somewhere right? Cause I didn’t grab my pack or anyt…” Y/n mumbles out while twisting her fingers. My hand sat on the key, I couldn’t… “why would I just drop you off in the middle of nowhere?” I asked her, utterly confused by her worry. When I looked over at her, her eyes were red, and watery. Her fidgeting hands were getting worse. I took a deep breath. “Well I just… I said that I would… I just don’t want to be a burden on y’all.” She mumbles once more. I take another deep beath, sighing out my frustration, taking my hand off the key that sits in the ignition. It lands on her jean clad thigh, her eyes widden has ash elooks up at me. “I’m not droppin’ you anywhere angel. Just wanted some company for today’s trip.” I say trying my best to convince her. She still doesn’t look like she believes me, I squeeze her thigh once then twice before returning my attention to key. 

With that the truck roars to life, and a knock on the widow makes me grow frustrated. “Sir, we’re ready to go.” It’s Simon, I roll my eyes before looking through the side mirror. ‘Alright then stop talkin’ and get in the damn truck.” I muttered before rolling up the window, and waiting for the gate to open. “Do you… have like a map of the area?” She asks as we start to drive down the roads. “Yeah had one, why do you remember seeing something on your way here?” The conversation is nice to have.

It’s smooth, and has a meaning. It’s not like I’m talking to Simon, or Dwight. Don’t get me started on my ‘wives’. Nobody can manage to hold my attention, but her. Y/n holds it in a way that makes me scared for a moment. She’s not boring, and maybe that’s just because she’s new here, but I don’t want that to be the truth. Y/n opens her window, the air rushes in, popping her head out of the window her hair sorta flows with the window. She’s beautiful, I have to bit my tongue before i say those words out loud. I have no intention of scaring her just yet, from our earlier conversation she is still rather freaked out. 

“There was like a strip mall… it was far though I think, I can’t really remember. I’m sorry.” She says when she comes into the cab of the truck. “A strip mall is good.” I radio over to the others. ‘Keep an eye out for a strip mall.’ “Do you know what side of the road it was on?” I ask her, she shakes her head, “That’s alright sweetheart.” I put my hand back on her thigh. She doesn’t knock it off, instead she looks shocked that I’m even touching her. She squirms ever so slightly has I guide my hand higher. I don’t tease her much longer, leaving it to rest there. Touching is enough for me right now, the ragging hard on in my jeans isn’t really helped by my teasing either. 

What feels like hours pass until I feel Y/n jotling next to me. Her eyes are filled with excitement. I follow her finger. A delicate hand points towards a shitty strip mall. “Will you radio it in for me?” I ask her, handing her the radio. She nods her headle, clearing her throat. I almost laugh. Her squeaky voice is loud and clear which surprise me as she doesn’t ever talk to loud, or even from what I can see have a single mean bone in her body. “Strip mall on your right.” It a few moments before someone calls back into the channel. “Who the hell is whining in through this channel.” The radio sits back on the center console. Her brows furrow at the way the guy talk through the radio. 

I grab it, shouting loudly into the mic. “You all shut the fuck up, and get to the damn strip mall.” It’s all i say before turning off the channel, and paying attention to the road that leads to the strip mall. It doesn’t look to abadoned or worse for wear. It’s signs still standing up, and I think because it was so far from so many of the ground zeros outbreaks that it has yet to be discovered. The parking lot is filled with old cars, but there’s a good spot to park the large truck. Y/n is staring at the strip mall through the front window. “I’ve never been to a place like this before.” She comments, looking around at our surrounding it seems that it use to be a large strip mall. A gas station not far from the parking lot, and then the other trucks start pulling up next to us. “Let’s get out.” I turn to Y/n she nods her head, I grab her wrist before she can get out, “Wait a minute,” I shuffle through the bag on the floor in front of the console. “Here’s a gun, just incase.” She nods her head, and when I give her the gun our fingers brush past, sending an electrifying zing through my body, and down my spine.

Simon is already at my side by the second igeto ut of the truck. “I thought we were going to the other palace that was on the map.” I stare at him for a moment. Rolling my eyes, “Well we’re here now, so shut the fuck up and deal with it.” My hands feel empty, and for a sudden second I remember that I don’t have my Lucille on me. She isn’t anywhere in my grasps, so I climb back into the trucks cab. “Negan.” “What god damn it…” My anger blinds me for longer then it probably should have. “Oh Y/n..” her face is riddled with sadness, and when I get my feet back down on the ground she twists her nose, “I grabbed your um… the bat you carry around with ya.” She hands me the bat, and then she’s back to looking at the ground. “Thank you darlin” 

I pair off the people in groups. Y/n, and I stay together, I want to know about her and the only way of doing that is putting Simon and practically everyone else off and out of my path. We walk side by side as I watch the other pairs go into stores with careful steps. The doors aren’t chained or even locked. Everything is open, and clear for us to use. Y/n looks around with a sort of ease in her step, almost as if she’s skipping. If it weren’t for the bat in my hand, and the gun in hers it would almost feel normal. Like a date, a shopping date. Fuck I’d get her anything she wanted. Hell I can get her anything she wants now, money has no status here and now it’ all about the power you have. 

My eyes light up at the sight of an ABC store. The windows are still together, I hit the doorframe with the end of my bat. Y/n had found a few stores, filled with clothes she grabbed with the copious plastic bags behind the check out booth. Y/n carries them out with her, I knock once, then twice no grumbles of zombie came echoing through the building. I push the door open, and when it look around the windows bring light to the store. The walls are lined with all types of different alcohol. Beer, and wine lines the fridged wall. I gravitate towards the harder ligours that are lined in the middle aisle. Brandy, gin, whiskey and rum. I hadn’t had a good glass of my favorite gin in a long time, Y/n had dropped her bags of clothes at the front door. The gun I handed her when we first got here is in the back of her jeans. 

“Grab whatever you want sweetheart.” I yell over to her, she’s grazing the aisle like the out break never happened. For a moment I day dream about how it would have been to meet her in the store her ass in a nice pair of jeans and her hairs exposed to the summer sun. I day dream that Y/n would have a sweet, confident women that bumped into me with her questions about what kind of brands to buy for a new years party. A dream that I was sadly taken out of when a crash of glass echoed through the store. A mumble of screams “Y/n!” I shouted from the other aisle, but no response. I’m not sure why the panic rampted up in my bones when I heard nothing from Y/n. 

The zombie had her pinned, her back is pressed hard into the ground. Her hands are frantically trying to push the fleshy monster off her frame. “NEGAN!” She screamds as she see me from the corner of her eye. Her gun is pressed into the rback, so there’s no way she can save herself. The aderaline that pumps through my body has me swinging my bat over my head hitting the zombie square in his head. Blood splatters across her face, as she pushes the zombie off her frame. My bat, and arms keep swinging regardless that the zombies face is fucked to obvilion. “Negan…” Her words aren’t hitting me, its like I can’t hear anything. “Negan, you can stop now.” her hand touches my shoulder gently, and it brings me right back tot he present. My bat is stuck in the face of the dead zombie on the ground. “We should check, and make sure there aren’t anymore around.” She’s right, I take a deep, ragged breath before dragged the bat out of the smelly flesh. 

With nobody hurt, and a few bags with of alcohol and clothes, we both settle that it might be a bette idea to head back to the truck, “Negan are you alright?” She asks with concerned etched into her face, and voice. I only nod my head, I gave her a quick check over after we killed the zombie, and then another once we left the store. She stood there and let my graze down her frame her cheeks growing red with blush and the tips of her ears pink. “Negan, look at everything we found.” Simon is talking again, and for a moment I wish it had just been Y/n and I. The stronger men are carrying bed, and anything heavy. “A hardware store was on the other end.” Simon recalls. “Good.” I say with a simple node before opening the door for Y/n, she hops in before dropping the bags between the console and the seats. 

The drive back home is quiet, the sun is setting in the most beautiful way. It gives shades of purple and orange to the sky as they reflect in and onto Y/n’s tried face. In the silence of the drive, her steady breaths are all I can think about, even when I feel her gaze on me. “I saw you grabbed a few bags worth of clothes, did you grab anything for me?” I tease her, she looks over at me, a red tinge of her cheeks. “I did, but I don’t know if you’ll like anything I grabbed you.” She says softly. I grin at her, and when I get to the gate of the sanctuary I start to eye the bag between the two of us. 

Why is Simon so content in annyoting me leave me be with Y/n, and do what you want. Or whatever. Simons louds voice takes me out of the lovely space that I’ve created with Y/n, “What do you want us to do with the stuff we got today sir?” Simon asks, I bring a hand to my face dragging it down my emotionless face. “Why don’t you just categorize everything and then decided later on.” Y/n offers from behind me. I turn, smiling sweetly at her, when I turn back to look at Simon he’s looking at me like I’ve got no head at all, “You heard the lady, now do as your told.” Simon stand there for a minutes dumbfounded, but turns yelling at the group of men. I turn my attention back to Y/n, but she’s not there. Instead I can see her hips swaying as she’s waking into the building. I chase after her like a teenaged boy. My legs carry me as far as my heart and lungs can pump before I have to stop. Thankfully she doesn’t go to far, stopping at my rooms door. The bags in her hand, I follow her into the room, “Leave me out there all by myself with all those dicks.” I tease her. 

She rolls her eyes, theres a glimpse of attitude that shine through, and it makes me chuckle in the best of ways. The bags are laid out on beds comforter. It remind me of before, when Lucile used to go shopping, and bring home all her findings then do a cute little show of what she brought. I can’t help the words that fall out of my mouth, “You do a fashion show for me Y/n?” I ask, her head turns quickly, and then back at the bags. Bitting her bottom lip she digs through the bag of liquor. “How about a few glasses of wine, or whatever you want?” She offers, a little too shy still, but we are getting there. There a simply sort of flirting that’s happening between the two of us. That’s been happening between the two of us for weeks now, since she woke up and stayed in my room. 

Y/n pulls the bottles from the bag. “What sorta drinker are you Negan?” She asks, “What’d mean?” I ask eyeing the bottle of gin in her hand. “I just mean… are you a um light weight?” I chuckle at her question, “I don’t mean to offend ya sweetheart, but I’m not anywhere close to a light weight.” I haven’t chuckled like this in a long time, haven’t felt my cheeks burn like this in a long time. I get up grabbing two crystal glasses. “Pick.” Y/n just so happens to grab the gin from within her hands. I smile at her choice. I grab the bottle from her hand, pulling the plastic wrap off from around the top, and twisting the top off. 

The clear liqoured falls from the bottle, and into the glass. Y/n doesn’t say when she just lets me fill up her glass. “That’s good enough.” She nods, Y/n takes the glass from my hand. “Let’s go sit over here.” I motion her over to the couch. In between taking sips from her glass, and the long conversations we have about the things that Y/n, and I did before the world came to an abrupt end. “I was a schools gym teacher.” Y/n giggles, laughing with her stomach. Her hand is placed on her stomach as she heaves over the edge of her couch. I had refilled the cups a few times, like I had told her I wasn’t a light weight. “You might have been drinkin’ to much of this sweetheart.” I say as I get up grabbing the glass from the table. Placing it far away from her at least for now, but before I can manage to sit back down on the chair across from her. 

Y/n is grabbing my hand, pulling me down parctly ontop of her. On instinct I want to pull away but i can’t seem to get myself to and even if I wanted to I can’t. Her legs wrap around my hip and drag me in. “You smell so good Negan.” She whispers now that we are so close. Her breath fans over my face, and her eyes flutter in a way I’ve never seen before. All the shyness is gone, all of the fear has been turned into something else. There’s lust behind her eyes, passion behind them as well. Her hands cup my cheeks pulling me further down. If I were any better of a man, “So handsome too.” Y/n adds on. “God Y/n, if I were a better man I’d say no to your drunken state, but I’m not.” I don’t think as I lean in the rest of the way. Our lips molding in the best of way together. 

Her lips are warm and plush. Tasting of gin and chocolate. I don’t even have to ask for permission; she just lets her mouth fall open. I slip my tongue in, her own tongue melds with mine. Her moans fill the air between us, and her legs around my waist squeeze me harder pulling me in even more. I have to pull away from her for breath. She’s intoxicating in every single way. “Come here, sweetheart,” I say shifting us so Y/n is now sitting on my lap. She grinds up on me, trying to some sort of friction out of our new position. My hands land on her hips as I watch her. I’m not so forward with most of the more intimate parts of my life. “Come on, sweetheart, let's get this t-shirt off of you,” I mumble as I try to get her out of the shirt. She isn’t really helping, but that’s just fine. I manage to get the shirt off of her shoulder and over her head. “Look at you, such a pretty little thing,” I mutter as I throw the shirt off into the distance. Her skin prickles up with goosebumps as I graze my hands up her sides slowly.

“Negan…” her voice is soft and kind. “What baby?” Her face suddenly turns sober and authentic. “I think you should know something…” My brows arch with concern. “I’m a… I’ve never done anything like this before.” It takes a moment for it takes entirely to make sense in my head, “You’re a virgin? Is that what you’re saying?” I ask her, and she nods slowly. I have to bite my bottom lip to hide the excitement and stop myself from grinding up into her. “That’s alright, dear; I’ll take real good care of you if you want me to, of course.” This conversation is sobering me up by the minute. She only thinks, “Yes, I want you to help me, Negan.” She says timidly. I can’t help the smirk that grows on my face. I unclip her bra, and her tits bounce at the release of the pressure. “You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” I mutter before taking her nipple in my mouth, sucking on it, teasing her as her hands wrap around the back of my neck, pulling me in even closer. 

“Fuck Negan so good.” She moans out; it’s not much later that Y/n is wrapped around me, her head on my chest with both of my shirts ripped off and lying on the floor. She had moaned and cried out in pleasure as I sucked on her nipples and squeezed her other tit in my giant hand.

Completed on: 08/13/23

Posted on: 08/15/23

Bases Tags- @claraangel @lanad3lrey-l0v3r @jdmsgorl @scarlett-widows-89 @idk1idk2idk @kaits-diary @whatsssss @daryldixonluvr @oceanablue @chelseypprimrose @freedomfighterlex @sageworld @ayeitzzshayla @123avengersandmarvel @charlie19690 @sweetvixensstuff @lanceisrandom @redscreendarkwin @ge0rgzs @rainyzonkmakerlover @amazingmaeve @harmonib @fullwattpadmusictree @finalgirlmp3 @rayneemccann @julimariett @kpoplover4life @definitelynotyagmur @rivernell @vanilla88 @alteredgalaxy @thatonefroggirl @kyleepsposts @max-505 @nhayoshii

[mightymetalmax]

You say it's wrapped in barbed wire, I say it's ribbed for my pleasure

[daryldixonnn]

slut for them

[writella]

Fuckin’ Favorite

Synopsis: Whose the fairest of them all? It’s you. It’s always been you. Negan’s prepared to let each one of his wives know just that tonight.

— or: Oh Lord, does Negan love his fuckin’ favorite wife!

Details: Negan Smith x fem!reader, smut— fingering, thigh riding, and penetration without protection; reader at the Sanctuary, “wife”!reader, guilty!reader because when am I not feeling guilty for wanting Negan, Negan being rude in one small part, I’m pretty sure I changed the layout of the wives quarters from the show, and a fuck load of ‘fucks’ from Negan. Mostly proofread. wc: 2.2k.

A/N: I mostly get right to it, so buckle up! And if you like this one, check out this daydream I wrote because I think it’s really cute.

—with love from writella ♡

He comes in without a knock.

The door, though brittle as it is, slams shut. The metal and leather of his jacket clink and slap as his back pounds against it. He has no care that he could break the door, or for the noise and late hour of his arrival.

This was his house. His rules.

“Good evenin’, sweetheart.”

If it wasn’t for that slight twang in his accent, or that wiley look that punctuates the end of his sentences, making everything he says just as comical as unsettling, it would have sounded more like a, Hello, Clarice— nonetheless, you still hold your breath.

“It’s half past ten,” you decide to say, looking down, making sure you don’t sound too sarcastic or displeased with his appearance. It’s just that you hated it when he came to your room, especially when all the other girls were right outside in the common room or in their bedrooms that neighbored yours. You much rather go to his room if you have to. It’s quiet and separate from the rest of the habitants of the Sanctuary. He could be as loud as he wanted— even though he always was anyway— but that would mostly be for you— so you didn’t have to feel so ashamed.

“Well would you prefer a Hey, sexy. Strip down. Ass up. then? Just get right to it?” You say nothing. “Cause I could.” Negan tilts his head sideways with a slight grin, his forehead protruding forward as he tries to find your eyes. All he sees is cheeks starting to flush, an embarrassed shake of your head, and eyes that stay stuck on your black ballerina flats.

You were sitting on the rear of your bed, only looking up sometimes. Recently, you were trying to get better with eye contact. You wanted to show that you’re not afraid of him anymore. It was supposed to be a silent statement that he wasn’t fooling you and that you weren’t softening up to him. That you know what this is, who he is; you’re cognizant of what he does to you, to the others girls, to people outside these walls. But, this didn’t work. No matter if you were looking down or up, you could never seem to get rid of that deer in the headlights look— The Roadkill Stare or The Corpse’s Bride as Negan called it— wide and bewildered, like he was going to run you over. Sometimes it made him feel sad. That there were moments where he could see you trying to resist your natural instinct to flinch when he comes near. But other times, it made him feel powerful. Not the fact that he scared you, but that he could see what was underneath it— that you were scared of yourself. He knows you like him. He knows from the way your face slightly twists as you suppress your snickers and smiles at his jokes when you two are alone, or when he makes fun of Simon for yet another one of his bad attempts at acting like him; when you think you’re doing well at maintaining that timid Tim Burton eyed version of a poker face. He knows you’re not completely scared of him, at least not anymore. Little by little, he’s learning to clock the nuances of your expressions: he sees how your eyes trail his body when he undresses in front of you, or the way you follow him as he walks to talk to this person or that, how you’re acutely aware of when and how he moves, your eyes flickering towards his hands before he gestures with them. It’s like you know too. As if you see his underneath the way he can for you. You’re becoming as familiar as he is.

He’s aware.

You can’t fool him any longer.

“Get up for me.” It’s a soft command said in his darkened voice. On instinct, you oblige. This is how it is. He walks closer, his fingertips lightly brushing slowly down your shoulder until he reaches your waist. He grabs you quick and close on both sides, pulling you straight against him. You gasp, arms swinging back slightly, back arching against him as he presses you on his lower abdomen and groin. You can feel his breath, and the heat of his intense gaze. “Kiss me.”

Your mouth is agape. Your breath shudders. You’re frozen.

You do nothing.

There you go again, his little fawn bride. If eyes could be any more rounder, symmetrical spheres, they’re yours. He could laugh but he doesn’t. He only repeats himself. Quietly, sternly, “You kiss me first this time.”

You had never done that before.

“Do I gotta say it a third?”

You shake your head. No.

Hesitantly, you reach up, touching his face with ghostlike fingertips, feeling the bristles of his beard as you bring yourself closer. Your lips are light and tentative as you finally press yours on his. For him, it was like being kissed by an angel. It makes him soften up for a moment, tilt your head up higher for you to give you more leverage. He kisses you just as sweetly. His thumb strokes your jaw.

After a few more kisses, you pull back to look at him. You hold his shoulders and he holds you by your waist. Your faces are so close, his eyes could almost be as wide as yours, and for a moment, it all feels so soft and dream-like. But quickly, the iridescence fades: before you realize it, he puts his tongue in your mouth forcefully, making your head roll back. The unexpected shift makes you gasp into his mouth.

He turns you around, slams you again your door. Your tall bureau near it bangs against the wall with you. Some of your folded clothes you had yet to put away and jewelry falls off the top as your head bounces.

Negan’s left hand runs down your body, sliding two fingers down under your dress and over your panties, pressing in at your slit. He finds wetness forming. His fingers make it more pronounced as he creates a wet spot.

“Tell me you want me,” he says as he starts to rub your clit.

You take a shaky breath inwards, covering a small moan.

Negan’s fingers slide inside your underwear and down right into your hole. He pumps slowly three times, never losing eye contact with you and then he takes them out. “Cause I want you,” and he proves it by putting the two fingers in his mouth and licking them clean, wiping his lips afterwards with his tongue. “Tell me you do too.”

Your breath remains heavy. Finally, you whisper, “I want you.”

He spins you around again. His back against the door once more, producing another slam you know all the girls will hear. He raises one of his legs and slots his thigh in between yours. His hands rest on your hips, rocking you against him. It feels good. Your thin cotton panties and bare thighs brushing and rocking against his that are rough and denim clad. You try to resist the urge to make any sounds because of how much you like it. “Tell me you need me.”

This makes you whine. “Can we—” you start to ask— and you can’t believe you’re even going to say it— “Can we just go to your room? Please?” Oh God, what would everyone at Alexandria think? They’d be so disappointed. They’d hate you. The wives have never been mean, they accepted you, understood your condition more than anyone else, but where you only had very educated guesses of what everyone at home would think of you, you had a stone hard fact of how the other girls were starting to see you. Their eyes could not lie as much as yours: you felt women’s growing glares of silent resentment whenever you were seen with Negan. He was more forgiving with you; never got too nasty about your habit of not speaking when you’re spoke to; he was gentle with his touch when others were watching; never made you hang out with any of the other men if you didn’t want to; and he talked to you, communicated more. They saw it. They knew it. They figured you were more in the know about things outside the Sancutary than they were. You tried to use it to keep them informed as well, as a way to preserve what little favor you had left, but now look at you, ruining it all as they’re forced to listen. Not only submitting to whatever he may do to you, but asking to change the location before it begins.

“No. You get me here or not at all.” You knew he wasn’t lying. His voice was stern. He looked you in the eye even if you weren’t looking back, you felt it. It told you that he wouldn’t budge, not even a little. “And you can sleep in those panties if that’s the case.”

You stay silent for a moment. Eyes peering into his wishing just your look could say it all. “Negan…” you whisper.

“Yes, baby?”

“I- I need you.”

In an instant, Negan pushes you off of him. His hands go to the ends of your dress and pull it off of you with your arms and hair flying.

“Take it off,” he demands after he throws you down on your bed.

You feet kick off your flats and you raise your hips to discard your panties, never losing sight of him as he rips off his jacket, unbuckles his belt, and crosses his arms to get rid of his shirt. You loved the look of his years-faded tattoos against his tan skin and the curves of his light muscles when he raises his arms.

You’re in a trance, not seeing that he sees that you’re doing it again. Bambi eyes trailing him down. It’s every time you guys do this. And fuck, you must think he’s sexy. He loves it. Because he knows he’s fucking sexy. He knows that pretty girls like you will always come around. You just can’t help it. His grin is as wide as your eyes because of it.

Negan is hard and he wastes no time. He’s been thinking about claiming you all day. He hooks his hands under your knees as you lay with your back flat on the bed.

Negan lines himself against you and immediately starts to piston himself inside of you, never completely pulling out. Your breast shake as his thrusts keep pushing you back. You felt like you were vibrating.

He is obsessed with this angle. Getting to see your face scrunch and twist and contort. Getting to hear your heavy pants and sighs. Getting to feel the squeeze of your pussy and he continues to push inside you fast, fast, fast.

And he’s mesmerized by your breast. The continuous bounce of your perky tits that were now his. He wants his mouth on them, he wants his dick between them, but for now he’ll just watch them jump and spring— it’s just as sexy to him. He might even have to cancel all of tomorrow's plans just to watch them fly all day like this.

Your head turns to your left side and you catch yourself in your full length mirror— the view is from head to the top of your waist. You see your left tit bouncing along with your head and stomach as Negan keeps pushing into it with no relent. Instantly you moan at the sight. Your hand swings to your face right after, your eyes closing shut.

Negan rips your fingers from off your mouth. “No,” he warns. “I know you like it—” you whine when he says that— “Stop hiding it. Look at yourself or I’ll stop.”

You don’t open them.

He stops.

“You gonna fuckin’ listen?”

Slowly, you ynclose your scrunched eyes, seeing yourself and your parted lips again.

“Good girl.” And then, Negan starts splitting you open again, making you shake. The sudden movement makes you moan, “oh- uh.”

“Tell me you want it.”

You don’t resist anymore. You continue to look at yourself in the mirror as you say, “I want it.”

“Tell me you need it.”

Your head turns to watch where your body connects with his. “Ohmygod, I need it.”

He growls as he follows your gaze, voice strained and rough like he’s going to punch something as he repeats, thrusting faster, “Tell me you fucking need it.”

“I need it.” Then you moan, “Negan, please!” You chant, “Please. Please, Negan, I need it!”

“You need it, baby?” He jeers. “You want me to give it to ya?”

You nod as you whine, tears almost coming out. Your breasts still bounce for him and you love it as much as you hate it. “Yes, Negan.”

“You know what I came in here to do, baby?”

You’re still whining, you're practically incoherent. His little fuck doll. All you can say is his name.

“Look at me when I tell you.”

Your eyes go up to his. Watching him as he continues to pump into you. You see how his body vigorously shakes in unison with yours. His skin and his pushing up and down, in and out, as he makes your body jump.

“I came in here,” he starts, losing his breath and trying not to falter from his thrusts as his face places itself above yours, “To show every single bitch in the goddamn house that you’re mine. And that you’re the only fuckin’ one.” You respond with only sex-filled sounds. You’re close to exploding. Your body still jumps along with his. Your bouncing breasts rubbing against his pex as he commands, “Tell me you want me to do it. You want me to make you come.”

As always, though this time it was because you were on the verge of losing all control, you give no answer.

His words bite at your parted lips as he repeats, “Tell me!” And he slaps the side of your ass.

The pang forces you to speak: “I want you to do it Negan please!”

Negan rises. His mouth circles as he moans. He holds your hips now, raising them off the bed as he pumps into your harder. “Say it again.”

“Do it, Negan, please. Please make me come.” With each word ending in moaning pants as you repeats, “Please- Please- Please- Please- Please-”

“Oh fuck,” his gutteral voice rasps and roars for all to hear. Your absolute submission brings him closer to the edge. He smiles widely knowing he’s about to come so hard in that tiny pussy of yours. “OH FUCKIN BOY,” he laughs, knowing he has the whole floor’s attention, not caring a single bit how any of it sounds. “GOD DAMN. THAT’S FUCKIN RIGHT. IM GONNA MAKE MY PRETTY LITTLE FUCKIN WIFE FUCKIN COME BECAUSE SHE’S- MY FUCKIN’- FAVORITE.”