#negan fanfiction

[sweetestcowboy]

goddamn, i love this so much

Cherry 🍒

S7 Negan x Virgin Female Reader

Summary: You sneak into Negan’s bed in the middle of the night and seduce him into ‘popping your cherry.’

Warnings: 18+, smut, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is mid 40's), unprotected sex, Negan taking your virginity & being sweet with you, mentions of family death, bleeding during sex, oral (both receiving), sitting on Negan’s face, breeding

Note: this is pure filth. If you’re uncomfortable with extreme age-gaps, please don’t read.

You shivered as your bare feet quietly shuffled down the cold hallway, stopping right outside the leader's bedroom door. The sounds of Negan's light snoring filtered through the cracks as you softly pushed the door open, pleased to find it unlocked. You tiptoed your way over to the empty side of his bed before sliding underneath his soft white sheets and inhaling the unique scent of him - leather and fresh linen.

You've always felt comfortable with him. Negan welcomed you to the sanctuary with open arms about a year ago when you were seventeen, after your father passed away. His men found you walking along the road one day and brought you back to Negan, who immediately took you under his wing and made you feel safe for the first time since your father died.

You're not like his wives. More like the daughter he never had and he's made that boundary crystal clear on more than one occasion. You've made several subtle advances towards Negan in the past.. All of which he has politely rejected by changing the subject or blatantly ignoring you.

Still, this doesn't stop you from quietly moaning his name when you touch yourself at night.

"Negan.." You whispered cautiously as you snuggled into the sheets. This wasn't the first time you crawled into his bed at night, feeding him lies about nightmares you never even had. However, this time.. you were determined to get what you wanted.

During your recent previous attempts, you'd remain on your side of the bed and Negan wouldn't even know you were there usually until the next morning - lecturing you when you woke up about how sneaking into his bed is inappropriate. You hated when he used that word. Like a strict school teacher.

A few moments of silence passed until you boldly shuffled closer to him, wrapping your hand around his arm and snuggling your face into his bicep. You breathed in the intoxicating aroma of his soft skin as your legs delicately pressed into his underneath the blanket.

"The hell are you doin' y/n?" He asked, his sleepy voice deeper and raspier than usual and it made your heart flutter.

"Can't sleep."

"I think we both know you're lyin', doll. You know you can't stay in here. We've had this discussion. It's ina-"

"Yeah yeah I know. Inappropriate, geez." You interrupted him, rolling your eyes in the dark.

"Exactly, so why are you in my bed?"

"My.. dreams. They keep waking me up."

"Nightmares again?" He asked, using a softer tone this time.

"No.. no nightmares this time. Just.. dreams."

Negan shifted uncomfortably next to you, scooting up a little in the bed and wrapping his arm around you in the process. "What kinda dreams, doll?"

You snuggled into the nook of his armpit, getting practically drunk off his manly smell as your hand carelessly glided over his shirtless, hairy torso until settling on his lower abdomen.

Without missing a beat, Negan placed his hand over yours, moving it higher on his torso. "Y/n.." He said like a warning, sternness dripping from his tone.

You ignored him, refocusing your attention back to his previous question. "I dunno.. they're just.. like.. sexual dreams, and then I wake up and I'm all frustrated because I don't know what I'm doing-"

"Stop." He sighed with frustration, running a hand down his face. "Fucking christ, y/n. You cannot say shit like that in front of me."

"Why not? It's not like you're my daddy or anything." You teased him, sliding your hand to his lower stomach once again. You almost whimpered when your fingertips brushed over the soft curls peaking out of the waistband of his boxers and your stomach fluttered when he didn't stop you this time.

He let out a long sigh, glancing down to your hand that teased the sensitive skin under his waistband. "Baby...fuck. We can't." He said almost painfully.

"Okay.. I get it." You said defeatedly, removing your hand and shifting to turn over before he stopped you, pulling you back in.

He sighed, like he was about to regret asking you this. "What happens.. in your dreams?"

With the moonlight beaming through the window, you managed to catch a glimpse of the lust that flickered in his gaze before his hazel eyes dropped to your lips.

"You treat me different.. like.. one of your wives."

"Yeah? And how's that, baby?" He asked curiously as his lips hovered next to yours.

"You.. kiss them." You stated hesitantly, hoping it was dark enough in the room that he couldn't see your cheeks burning red.

"Oh? Are you jealous, doll?"

"...a little." You admitted, making him chuckle.

He tilted your chin up, lightly gripping your jawline as his eyes dropped to your lips. He stared at them as if he was contemplating if he should give you what you want.

"One kiss, y/n." He said, closing the gap between you and pressing his soft lips to yours. You whimpered into his mouth, earning a slight smirk from him as he pushed his talented tongue past your lips. You couldn't believe you were finally tasting him and you savored every second of it.

He kissed you until your lips were sore, tangling his fingers through your hair and groaning every now and then, making your panties soaked.

You slid your leg over his until his muscular thigh was pressed right up against your aching center and you couldn't help but grind against it, desperate for some friction.

"Y/n." He warned, knowing what you were doing beneath the covers.

"Please, Negan."

His solid erection pressed into your stomach each time you moved your body against his and you imagined the way it would feel inside of you.

“Please what?” He said in between kisses, allowing you to use his thigh to get yourself off.

“Please let me come."

"I'm not touching you, y/n. But I can't stop you from coming."

And that was all the permission you needed to grind against him harder and bring yourself to an orgasm just from humping his thigh.

You buried your face against his neck and rode out your high, whining and whimpering as you soaked through your panties. "Oh my god, oh my god, Negannnn."

"Satisfied now, doll?" He chuckled.

"No.. I need this." You said, pressing your palm against the hard bulge in his boxers. "Please."

"You don't know what you're asking for, sweetheart."

"I do, Negan. I know exactly what I want.. And I've wanted you for so long." You kissed his neck as you rubbed his cock through the material. "I see the way you look at me. I know you want me too."

He sighed, accepting that you were right. "Maybe. But we can't always get what we want, doll."

You grinned, taking that as a challenge as you slid lower beneath the blanket, kissing his chest. "Why not?"

"Baby.."

"If you tell me to stop, I'll stop." You said, wanting to earn his consent before climbing over his legs and settling in between them. He sighed again, turning all the way over on his back to allow you better access.

You licked a line from the bottom of the trail of hair that led up to his belly button, earning a moan from him as he slightly lifted his hips in response. "Baby, you don't have to-"

"You said you wouldn't touch me, but you didn't say I couldn't touch you." You explained, pulling his boxers down slowly. You watched closely as his cock sprung free, and your mouth practically watered at the sight of it. You wondered how you'd fit it in your mouth, much less your pussy.

"It's so.. big.." You said, wrapping your hand around it. Your mouth fell slightly open at the velvety feeling of it as you stroked it up and down in your palm.

Negan was propped up on his elbows as he watched you through heavy, lust-filled eyelids. For once, he was speechless, waiting for your next move.

You lowered your head, taking the tip of him into your mouth and wrapping your lips around it softly. You sucked on just the tip as you looked up at him through your brows and watched his head fall back while the prominent vein in his neck bulged against his skin. Lowering yourself deeper, he let out a long groan when he felt himself in the back of your throat.

"Fuuuuuck, baby. Feels so fuckin' good."

You bobbed your head up and down on him until your jaw ached, wanting to make him proud. Finally, he pulled your head off of his length, and you watched as the precum leaked from his red, swollen tip. His breaths were heavy as he looked down at you. "Fuck, that's enough. You're gonna make me come, sweetheart.

"I want to taste you, Negan.. please?" You begged, looking up at him innocently.

"Yeah? You want me to come in your mouth?"

You nodded as wrapped your lips around his thick length again, tasting the bead of salty precum. You moaned at the new taste, sucking firmly over and over until you felt more of his warm liquid spurt out, coating the back of your throat. You moaned around him again, not taking your mouth off of his cock until you swallowed every drop.

Sweat ran down the side of his face and his chest rose and fell heavily as he watched you. "Goddamn. What happened to my sweet, innocent girl, huh? When did you learn to suck cock like that?"

"Just now. That was my first time." You shrugged, shuffling up his body until your legs straddled his waist and you pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor and exposing your perky, bare breasts to him.

You pinched your own nipples teasingly as you bit you lip and stared down at him.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful.” He said, watching you play with your nipples.

"You don't wanna touch?" You pouted, sticking out your bottom lip.

"Of course I wanna fuckin' touch you, y/n. You have no idea. I wanna touch every inch of you." He sighed, leaning up on his elbows again until his face was inches away from your chest. "But, I can't."

"Then don't use your hands.. lick me instead." You insisted.

He looked up at you through his brows before his gaze returned to your breasts. You leaned forward, brushing your nipple against his beard until it hardened even more. When it brushed his lips, he instantly took it into his mouth and groaned, sucking it gently. After a few moments, he switched to the other one, flicking his tongue against it. Your head fell back while your fingers intertwined in his slick, black hair.

"Negannn." You breathed out, and he finally pulled away.

"Take those panties off and sit on my fucking face. Now." He demanded, laying flat on his back.

You eagerly obeyed him, quickly removing your panties and climbing over his face before lowering yourself down slowly. You hovered over him lightly, not wanting to press all the way down until his hands roughly pulled you closer.

"I said, sit." He said before burying his face in your cunt. The tip of his nose pressed against your clit as his tongue devoured your dripping hole and he moaned with approval.

You lifted slightly, being too sensitive too his touch, but he leaned forward, taking your clit between his lips and sucking. You cried out as your orgasm instantly rushed through you and you soaked his face. You came hard and fast, but he didn't mind as he moaned loudly, lapping up your juices. You tried to climb off of him, but he held you in place, still licking you like his life depended on it.

"Negan.." You blushed.

"Hm?"

"That's enough." You giggled.

"I'll never get enough of this sweet pussy, doll. You wanted me, now you've fuckin' got me."

His words made the butterflies somersault in your chest. You hoped he meant it. You hoped he loved you the way you loved him.

"Lay down for me." He said, finally letting you climb off of him.

You did as he said, getting comfortable on your back as he crawled over you and settled between your legs. Looking down, you noticed he was rock hard again and he rubbed the tip of his cock teasingly in between your wet folds.

"Negan.. I need to tell you something."

"Hm? What is it, doll?" He asked, leaning over you and holding himself up with his palms on either side of your head on the mattress.

"I-I've never done this before."

He smirked, looking into your eyes. "I know."

"What do you mean you know?"

"I hear everything in this place, y/n. I've heard you talking about me to your friends." He pressed his lips to yours before looking at you again. "I've heard you moaning my name at night in your bed while you touch that pretty pussy. I know everything about you, doll. I pay attention, even when you think I'm not."

You blushed at his words as you stared up at him speechless, making his smile widen. "So adorable when you're embarrassed."

He kissed you again, so hard that it took your breath away and in that moment, you knew you were head over heels in love with this man. You just wondered if he felt the same.

“What else happens in your dreams, baby? Do you let me fuck this little pussy?” He whispered in your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine.

“Y-yes.” You managed to choke out, making him chuckle.

He leaned back up, placing one of your legs over his shoulder as the other fell open for him.

“You ready for me to break you in, sweetheart? Pop that sweet little cherry?”

"Fuck, yes. Please." You whined, scooting closer to him until the tip of his cock brushed against your sex.

Negan chuckled lowly, pressing the head of his cock right against your hole. He watched you intensely as he pushed just the tip in, stopping before he went any further.

“You good, baby?” He asked, making sure you were good to continue. Once you nodded, he slid slightly deeper, feeling resistance before pushing through with a force.

You cried out at the sudden ripping sensation, making him stop again.

“No.. keep going.” You urged him, already aching from how he was stretching you, but you needed him to fill you completely. So he did, pushing himself all the way in with one swift thrust.

Your mouth fell open silently as he pressed against your cervix and let out a growl.

He fell over you again, kissing your lips as he thrusted into you at a steady pace. “You did it, baby.” He praised you softly. “I am so fuckin proud of you.”

He moved slowly, making you deliberately feel every inch of him. He repeated this motion until your face was on fire and your lower abdomen tingled.

"Fuck, y/n. You are so fucking tight." He said through gritted teeth, looking down between the two of you as he leaned back up on his knees.

"Oh fuuck, look. at. that, doll."

You leaned up on your elbows, looking down and widening your eyes when Negan pulled out of you, revealing his blood covered cock.

His thumb reached down to swipe a trail of your blood off his dick before bringing it to this mouth. You watched him enamored as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the taste of you and he moaned with satisfaction. You blushed hard at the sight of Negan tasting your blood.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Negan.” You answered without question, following it with a moan as he pushed back into you without warning.

“That’s right, doll. This pussy? Is mine now. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir.” You cried, as he pumped into you faster.

"Ow. Ow, fuck. It hurts."

“I know baby. I know. You want me to stop?”

“No.” You said quickly. “Please don’t stop. I want it harder.”

He smiled down at you proudly as his hips bucked into you harder and your eyes clenched shut as your fingers gripped the sheets.

Looking down between the two of you again, he groaned at the sight of your blood completely coating his cock and leaking out of you with each thrust.

You whined and whimpered, desperately wanting to come again. He grinned knowingly, pressing his thumb to your clit and making your body shutter. "You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart?"

You nodded as tears flooded your eyes and his finger started working over your clit more intensely.

"Yes, yes. Please make me come."

He fucked you fast and rubbed your clit in perfect circles, watching you come undone around him. Once your walls were done convulsing around him, he fell over you again, kissing your neck and groaning in your ear. "That's it. That's my good girl."

Wet noises filled the air as he fucked you unforgivably hard. "You gonna let me cum in this pussy, baby?" He asked, biting your earlobe.

You couldn't speak, so you nodded as your vision went cloudy and his thrusts became more erratic until he stopped suddenly, pushing himself balls deep inside of you as his dick pumped you full of cum and he growled in your ear.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby." His thrusts started again, soft and light this time as he pushed his seed deeper inside of you. He kissed your jawline, then your lips, before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

"Y/n... I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. And goddamn I love this pussy."

[naughtyneganjdm]

Threads of Desire: A Christmas to Remember - Chapter 3

Summary: Y/N goes to Maggie's apartment to pick up something for work, but is shocked when she discovers a secret that Maggie is keeping. After the day she had, Y/N goes to visit with her friend Daryl Dixon who does what he can to make her feel better.

Characters: Daryl Dixon, the reader (OC), Maggie Greene, Negan Smith (only heavily mentioned), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61111030/chapters/157163035

Warnings: Swearing, Cheating, Angst, Pretty heavy dirty talk, Implied Sex, Smut, etc.

Notes: This chapter doesn't have Negan in it, but he is mentioned. I quickly edited this. I wanted to have more of this up, but life got busy so everything may not be up by Christmas. But I'll do my best to get up the chapters as quickly as I can.

Moving through the streets of New York, Y/N cussed to herself when she worked to keep herself from falling. Of fucking course it had to be snowing right now. It fit her mood and everything that was happening. The sound of her phone going off made her frown when she reached for it to see that Negan was calling her. Rejecting the call, she was quick to put her head down and keep walking. But then immediately after he was calling her back again. Shoving her phone into her purse, she ignored the call not wanting to talk to Negan after everything.

Avoiding Negan now would be her only option with how big of a fool she made of herself tonight. After everything, there were two things she was feeling more than anything right now. Regret and anger. Regret that she let herself get to the point that she did tonight. She had worked so hard to keep her mouth shut about Maggie and how miserable she was. Putting on a façade for the last four years was something she had gotten good at, but she suddenly let go of all that in just a few hours. And anger that the person she thought was her best friend purposely went out of her way to break her heart. Hearing that Maggie was the one to pursue Negan after promising that she wouldn’t was devastating. The sad thing was though? It wasn’t hard to believe. It had become more than obvious that Maggie didn’t care for Y/N in the way that she cared about Maggie. For some reason, it always felt like a competition in life between the two of them. One that Y/N never played along with, but for some reason Maggie was. Maggie had to have the best of everything. And she had won. In her own little game, she won. Maggie had Y/N’s dream job. Maggie was dating the man that Y/N had fallen in love with.

Getting to Maggie’s apartment, Y/N dug inside of her purse to find the keys. Walking inside, the woman at the front desk already knew who she was. They didn’t know her as Maggie’s friend, but as the woman that worked for Maggie. By now? She had been back and forth in Maggie’s apartment so much that the whole staff that worked in that building knew who Y/N was.

Heading up on the elevator, she closed her eyes tightly and tipped her head back when she heard her phone buzzing again in her purse. Undoubtedly that had to be Negan. Who knows how many times he had called at this point. Jumping out of the car at a red light had to be a bit of a shocker for him, but she didn’t care. Everything had become awkward and it was more than enough for one night.

Once more today, she found herself soaked from the snow. This time though? It was much worse. Instead of being in comfortable clothes, she was in a nice dress with just her jacket that didn’t close in the front.

A ding filled the air to alert her that she was on Maggie’s floor. Moving through the hallway, she headed for Maggie’s apartment and sighed. Considering Maggie hadn’t been texting her off the hook about the event tonight, she assumed Maggie was still at the dinner meeting. Opening up the door, Y/N stepped into the apartment feeling her heart rate escalate. Loud breaths and smacking sounds were filling the air drawing Y/N’s attention toward the kitchen where Maggie was laid out across the kitchen table having someone pounding into her.

“Oh shit, I am so sorry,” Y/N immediately apologized hearing Maggie gasp out once she realized that it was Y/N that was there. Stumbling out of the apartment, Y/N was quick to close the door shut behind her. Embarrassment flooded her veins when she headed back toward the elevator. But as she stood in front of the elevator, that feeling soon changed to anger. A moment later the door to Maggie’s apartment pulled open and Maggie was wearing an oversize t-shirt that she had obviously pulled on. Glancing to Maggie, Y/N shook her head and bit back what she honestly wanted to say. “I had no idea you were in there. I was just coming to pick up the project folder for tomorrow because the meeting you had at the end of the week got pushed forward to tomorrow. I didn’t want you to forget it, so I was dropping by to pick it up to make sure you had it.”

“We need to talk,” Maggie stressed with the elevator doors opening. There was a redness flooding into her cheeks with a thin layer of sweat covering her body. There was worry in Maggie’s green eyes when Y/N shook her head. “No, you need to come with me.”

“I don’t need to do anything. Just remember to bring your project with you in the morning or the meeting isn’t going to go very well,” Y/N went to leave, but Maggie grabbed a tight hold of Y/N’s wrist dragging her back to the apartment. “Maggie, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Maggie pushed Y/N into her apartment, slamming the door shut behind her. Y/N’s heart was pounding inside of her chest while Maggie attempted to gather herself. “And���you…you can’t tell Negan.”

“Tell Negan what?” she blurt out, dramatically shrugging her shoulders and throwing her hands up in the air. “That you’re cheating on him and fucking someone else?”

“Yeah, I knew you would be like this,” Maggie rolled her eyes, folding her arms out in front of her chest. “You’re my best friend, so therefore you have to be on my side of things. You can’t tell Negan what you saw today. Because one, that would break his heart and two…you just…well, you just can’t tell him.”

“I don’t lie to Negan,” Y/N declared, venom in her tone with Maggie rolling her eyes at the response. “What the hell are you even doing anyways? Negan is perfect. What are you doing fucking around on him?”

“Your undying loyalty to Negan is a little fucking pathetic Y/N. I hope you realize that,” Maggie hissed, throwing her right hand about. Whoever Maggie was screwing was in the background getting into something which had the both of them distracted for a moment, but Maggie pulled Y/N back in to focus on her. “Listen, Negan is the man that I want to marry, but I’m still young. I want to be able to have some fun before I ever consider doing something like that.”

“If you want to have that kind of life, then why are you dragging Negan along?” Y/N blurt out, every muscle in her body tensing up when she reached for her jacket that was wet. Pulling it off, she tossed it aside onto the counter and Maggie gave her a once over. “What?!”

“You wore that tonight?” Maggie seemed to be stunned with how she looked, but soon realized that she was distracted and pulled herself back into the moment. “Y/N, I like Negan. A lot. Okay? Negan is not someone I want to give up. He’s very good at sex and you know he has a big dick. That’s not really something people want to lose.”

“Wow,” nothing more could escape Y/N’s lips. “Just…wow.”

“Give me a fucking break,” Maggie scoffed, throwing her hands up in the air. “I know you have your little crush on Negan, but I’m your best friend. Your loyalty should lie with me. Not him. Fuck, it’s because of me that you actually got to see Negan naked at all. You never would have if it wasn’t for me. So maybe you should be a little thankful toward me and show me some appreciation.”

“I’m sorry, but what?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how out of the field that comment was. “So now I shouldn’t tell Negan about you fucking someone else because I was able to see Negan’s dick with your help?”

“I’m not wrong,” Maggie stressed her feelings toward Y/N eliciting an eye roll from her longtime friend. “You had the hots for him for so fucking long and I’m sure that getting to see him naked around the apartment all the time helped fuel your little fantasies of him.”

“Wow, you can go fuck yourself Maggie,” Y/N snarled attempting to move around Maggie only to hear the sound of something being dropped behind them. Looking over her shoulder, Y/N let out a loud exhale when she saw Guy Vixen walking around Maggie’s kitchen completely naked. A breath caught in her throat realizing that it was their boss that she had walked in on fucking Maggie. “Holy shit.”

“I know you told me to wait in your bedroom, but…I didn’t want to,” Guy’s thick accent slurred from his lips, waving his hand about after he grabbed a glass for himself. “I was thirsty and I got sick of waiting for you and…”

Guy paused when his eyes connected with Y/N’s. Moving around the bar that was at the center of the kitchen, he stopped when he stood before her, “Oh hello. Look at you. You are ravishing. Maggie, who is this. Is she a gift? Something that we can both play with?”

“I uh…” Y/N dropped her head down to see that Guy was still very much up from the action that she had interrupted. An uncomfortable breath escaped her throat when Guy lifted his hand to drag his finger down over the center of her chest toward her breasts. “I work for you. Well, I work with Maggie.”

“Oh! You’re that cute little thing from this morning?” Guy questioned, closing the distance between the two of them. “Fuck honey, if I knew you looked like that under all those clothes I would have invited you a long time ago.”

“Guy!” Maggie snapped, but it didn’t draw the brown eyes of their boss to pull from Y/N. Tugging slightly at the material of Y/N’s dress had it pulling forward with Guy attempting to get a look at Y/N’s breasts. “She’s not here as a third!”

“She may have not come with the intentions of being a third, but now that she’s hear soaking wet…” Guy swept his fingers down over her arms, stepping forward causing Y/N to take one step back. “Don’t be shy. I have enough in me to share with the both of you. You can ask Maggie, she’s tried him many times. And he delivers every time.”

“And suddenly we are talking about your dick in third person,” Y/N felt her face grow hot with her boss like this before her. This was the man that she admired growing up. The person that inspired her to even get into the business. So to say this was uncomfortable? It was an understatement. Not that Guy wasn’t good looking. He was incredibly good looking. And he didn’t look bad naked. He had a very chiseled physique. Unlike Negan, you could tell that he worked out a lot. And his rippled abdomen, buff chest and veins that were prominent in his arms showed it.

Noticing that she was staring at his arm, Guy flexed his arm slightly to bulge his bicep, flashing her a bright smile. “You like the way that looks? Little offended that you are looking there and not at my penis, but the arms and chest are nice so I don’t blame you for getting a look in.”

“Maggie,” she spoke her friend’s name feeling cornered when Guy blocked her in, placing both of his hands on the wall beside her. “Mr. Vixen?”

“Just Guy,” he smiled, letting out a disappointed breath when Maggie worked her way between the two of them. Pressing into Guy’s chest had him rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air. “Come on Maggie. Have a little fun here. You two are hot. I’m hot. I think the three of us could really have fun. You two can make out a little. I’d love to come on her tits.”

Lowering her head, Y/N looked down at her breasts and wondered if she had really kept them hidden that much since people had been so drawn to them tonight.

“Guy, it’s not going to happen. We aren’t those kind of…friends,” Maggie suggested, not sure how to get the man to back off in the least. “Just go back to my room and I’ll be there in a few minutes. I promise.”

“You get me excited for something more only to turn me down and disappoint me,” Guy pouted, palming down over the center of his chest toward his mid abdomen. Locking eyes with Y/N, he threw his hand up in the air and smiled. “Since Maggie is a buzzkill, if you ever decide that you want to have sex, just come see me at work. I’m not kidding when I tell you that I’d love to come all over your tits. They are incredible.”

“Guy!” Maggie interrupted him after Y/N let out a nervous laugh at how forward he was being. “Anyone else and you’d be worrying about a massive sexual harassment charge right now.”

“I’m telling the woman that I’d like to fuck her. I don’t think that’s bad,” Guy stressed, stumbling back toward Maggie’s room with Maggie pushing into him. Waving his hand at Maggie, Guy got her to step away from him and he laughed. “Fine! Be that way. But I’m just letting her know that I mean it. The offer is on the table.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Y/N gave Guy an answer with him pointing at her, smiling over the top when he headed back into Maggie’s bedroom. Once he was in, Maggie slowly turned to look at Y/N. “Things make so much more sense now. Although, I did think he was gay so that’s surprising.”

“He’s pansexual,” Maggie alerted Y/N suddenly feeling awkward about the exchange between Guy and Y/N since she was just having sex with the guy. “I’m not sleeping with him because he’s the boss. We’ve been doing this off and on because…”

“I didn’t even suggest that, but now that you put it out there…” Y/N breathed out, folding her arms in front of her chest knowing that it did come off strange that Maggie was in fact fucking the boss.

“Don’t even start with me,” Maggie warned throwing her finger out at Y/N who leaned back against the wall. “You can tell that he’s very…forward. And it’s easy to fall for it with the way that he looks. So I don’t want to hear that I’m screwing my way to the top.”

“I never said that,” Y/N reminded Maggie feeling a sense of happiness in the moment that Maggie felt bad about the situation. “You did.”

“Regardless, you really have no right to judge me,” Maggie claimed, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. A sound of frustration fell deep from within her. “I know you’re just jumping at the idea to tell Negan I’m cheating on him so you can get your nails into him.”

“Get my nails into him?” Y/N repeated, a fire building up in her veins. “You know, Negan told me a few interesting stories tonight. Here you are begging me to be your best friend and be loyal to you, but Negan let me in on some things that made me realize just how much of my best friend that you aren’t.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Maggie wondered, her eyebrow arching when she braced her hands on the counter.

“You knew how much I liked him,” Y/N spoke quietly, trying to make sure that Guy didn’t hear their fight about another man. “I told you how in love with him I was and you still went after him. You swore to me that you wouldn’t. You even promised me that after he brought you those flowers that you wouldn’t let anything else happen, but then you did. And I thought it was on him, so that’s why I never really held you responsible. But tonight he told me that you kept coming back to his class to flirt with him. That you’re the one that kept coming. That you were the one that swore to him that I wouldn’t be coming home the night you fucked him on the couch. You knew I was coming home. You set it up so I could see what you had done…”

“I…” Maggie looked like she was going to rip into her, but stopped when she thought about what Y/N had said. “You know what? I’m not even going to fight about it. Yeah. I went after Negan. For four years, I had to listen to you whine about how in love you were with this guy. And then I walk in to see how fucking hot he is. And after four years? You didn’t try a fucking thing. So I didn’t see the big deal. Negan was hot. You weren’t making your move. That’s not my fault. Plus, it’s not like I had to work that hard to get him to come to me. You can be in love with someone all you want, but that doesn’t mean that he has the same feelings toward you. Which he obviously didn’t. It’s not you that Negan has feelings for Y/N, it’s me. You were never going to hook up with Negan in the first place. I needed you to realize that so you could fucking move on with your life. Instead, you’ve remained incredibly loyal to him and his daughter, but you’re never going to get what you want. Even if you do run off to him and tattle on me about what you saw here. It’s been eight years Y/N. If it hasn’t happened yet, it’s never going to. You’re not his type. And he doesn’t like you like that.”

Parting her lips, Y/N went to say something, but felt that lump returning to her throat again. Maggie was right. She witnessed that firsthand tonight. Negan didn’t like her like that. So what could she honestly say to combat that?

“It’s your fault for not trying first,” Maggie stuck to her guns about the situation with Negan, tipping her head from side to side. “Not that he would have said yes because…trust me. If he didn’t want you when you were taking care of his kid, he was never going to want you. You’re just a glorified nanny Y/N.”

“Fuck you Maggie,” she shook her head, trying to get Maggie to move but Maggie wasn’t budging. Frustrated, Y/N stepped back and shook her head. “You are the worst fucking friend in the world. You know that?”

“Why? Because I have the things that you want but never fought hard enough to have?” Maggie snapped back, closing the distance between the two of them. “What exactly makes me a bad friend, huh? As far as I’m concerned, I’m the best fucking thing that happened to you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be nowhere. I’m the one that brought you into Vixen. I make it possible for you to live in the city that you always dreamt of living in. I’m the one that makes sure you put food in your mouth. I allowed you to fill your dirty little fantasies to finally get to see Negan naked in the ways that you wanted. When I look at it? I’m the best friend you’ve got. All of those things I can take away from you in an instant. Your job. Your home. And with one conversation with Negan, I can take him and Jordyn away from you too. So why don’t you show me some gratitude instead of threatening me over a crush you were too much of a pussy to try anything with.”

Backing down, Y/N started to feel small again realizing that Maggie was right. This job was the only thing keeping her in New York City. Talking to Negan tonight confirmed with her that she couldn’t get a job to fall back on. If she lost her job, she would lose her apartment which meant she would have to leave the city. And after hearing all the people talking about Maggie at work tonight with Negan, she knew that with the proper persuasion, Maggie probably could have Negan kick her out of Jordyn’s life.

“That’s what I thought. Big and bad until reality smacks you upside the head,” Maggie grumbled under her breath with the color flooding into Y/N’s face. “For fuck’s sake. I have been dating Negan for four years and you still have that fucking crush controlling you. If you haven’t figured it out in eight years, it’s time for you to wake the fuck up. He doesn’t want you Y/N. So what is running to him and telling him that you found me sleeping with someone else going to do?”

“Is Guy the only one?” Y/N inquired getting a laugh from Maggie in return. “That’s a no.”

“Does it matter how many people I’m sleeping with on the side?” Maggie pushed, stealing a quick look to her bedroom to see that Guy was laid out across her bed skimming through things on his phone. “It wouldn’t change the conversation regardless. You should be loyal to me. Not him. Yes, I’m sleeping around with multiple people. No, I don’t want to stop it. It’s not cheating if it’s not an emotional relationship with someone. Then I would feel like I was cheating on Negan. Otherwise, it is what it is.”

“Negan deserves better than this Maggie,” Y/N alerted Maggie of how she felt about the situation, even knowing that Negan would never want to be with her.

“You don’t really know him Y/N. So don’t tell me what he does and does not deserve,” Maggie snapped at Y/N, rolling her eyes at the comment in general. “Negan isn’t the Mr. Wonderful that you think he is. I’m going to assume that you don’t know all of him because the way at which you are his loyal little dog shows it.”

“I know Negan isn’t perfect,” she countered, shaking her head at the idea that she didn’t know all the parts of Negan. She was around him for four years before Maggie ever came around. “I’m pretty sure I know him more than you do.”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t,” Maggie corrected her, tipping her head from side to side. “Come back to me when you’ve had him balls deep inside of you and then we’ll talk.”

“You think that having sex with someone means you know them more?” Y/N breathed out with Maggie licking her lips in an arrogant sweep. “That’s very ignorant.”

“Whatever Y/N. I don’t care to have this conversation anymore. I’m busy and I’d like to get back to my night,” Maggie hissed out, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. “I just need to know if I should expect you telling Negan about this or not. So what’s it going to be? You going to go running to him? Tell him everything? Because if you plan on running to him, you don’t have to show up to work tomorrow. You’ll be looking to find yourself a new job instead.”

Staying quiet, Y/N knew that she had to swallow her pride and keep this to herself. No matter how much she hated her job, she loved this city more and she loved Jordyn. Maggie had the power to make her lose both things. Moving around Maggie, Y/N reached for her jacket that she had thrown on the counter. Pulling it back on, she went to leave only for Maggie to call out to her.

Stopping, she waited for Maggie who moved into her office. Coming back out with the project that she had showed up for, Maggie held it out to her and bit down on her bottom lip, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah,” Y/N accepted the folder, her eyes narrowing when Maggie offered up a big smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And with that, she left.

----

There was no question that it would have been for the best if Y/N went directly home. It was late at night. She was drunk. Things were emotional. More than anything she should have been sleeping all of this off. Undoubtedly she would be having an early morning tomorrow. One where Maggie would likely give her endless amounts of shit after everything that happened tonight. Yet, she found herself headed somewhere else. Everything felt like it was spinning and she was almost afraid to go home to be alone. Right now she was experiencing everything so strongly that she knew she needed to talk to someone.

Tomorrow was going to be hard. It went against everything that she was to keep something like this from Negan. But Maggie was right about a lot of things. And she needed to talk to someone who could help her through this. Someone who understood what she was going through and knew most of the details. And there was only one person in the world that she had been completely open with about everything. That was her friend Daryl Dixon.

Y/N had also met Daryl during her freshman year of college. After getting an art degree there, Daryl worked at the college for years. A few of the professors ended up liking him so they hooked him up with a job on campus. Pretty quickly, they hit it off after meeting at a party. They were always running into each other after their first meet and it felt like the world was just telling both of them that they were meant to be in each other's lives. Even though he was older than her, they just clicked. Back when she was in college Daryl, Maggie and Negan were the three people she was the closest too. Daryl knew everything. And he was the only person that she could be completely honest with about things.

Unlike Negan and Maggie, she and Daryl had more in common. They were both very passionate about their work, but neither of them were making the kind of money that Negan and Maggie were. Daryl lived in a studio apartment in the Meat Packing District of New York City. After leaving Maggie’s apartment in the upper East side, she got a ride to his apartment. Yes, it was late at night, but she was pretty certain that he would be awake. Daryl didn’t usually sleep much. These were the hours when he thought his creativity spiked. Just like her, Daryl’s brain often never had time to silence itself.

Sluggishly moving through the hallways, Y/N stopped when she reached Daryl’s door. Pressing forward, she heard the faint sounds of music playing alerting her to the fact that he was very much awake. Knocking at the door loud enough for him to hear, she waited. Holding her shoes in one hand, she leaned against the wall across from his door. Movement inside let her know that Daryl heard her. It didn’t take long for him to unlock the door and slide it open with a heavy thud.  

Standing before her, Daryl was completely shirtless wearing only a pair of torn, weathered down blue jeans. The button in his jeans was undone and his hair was a mess. There some paint splattered over both his torso and his hands that made her smirk when she saw it. A cigarette was loosely hanging from between his lips, with his eyebrows bouncing up when their eyes finally locked.

“What in God’s name are you wearing?” Daryl snorted, his head tipping to the side as he lifted his arm to rest it against the doorframe. Gazing over her body, Daryl couldn’t but be amused seeing her dressed in what she was. Especially since he had never really seen her like that in his time being near her. “Did you come from some kinda party or somethin’?”

Instead of saying anything, a long exhale escaped her throat and when he finally noticed the expression in her eyes, Daryl knew that she needed him. Stepping aside, without question, Daryl waved her forward motioning her into his apartment.

“I take it you had a hard day?” Daryl commented, pulling his cigarette from between his lips after she lowered down just enough to walk under his arm and into his apartment. Grunting out, Daryl closed his door with a firm slam, locking things up behind him. Dragging his bare feet along the floor, Daryl headed back toward the painting that he was working on leaving her standing at the middle of his mostly empty apartment.

Daryl was a simple man. Truthfully? If Daryl would have decorated the place a little nicer, this could have been a beautiful apartment. It had huge windows that looked upon the city and it was a lot of space. On the left side of Daryl’s apartment was a very simple bed and a dresser for him to keep his clothes. At the opposite side was the kitchen area where Daryl had a bar set up where he could sit and eat. Near the middle was a single couch that had an older television sitting out before it. And toward the back of his apartment was where Daryl kept his studio for his art. This was the place that Daryl worked out of. So there were plenty of art supplies, canvases and things of that nature. Since it was Christmas time, Daryl had what she would have guessed to be a five-foot artificial Christmas tree at the opposite corner of where his bed was at the left side of the apartment. The star that was on top of it looked like it had seen better days. There were no ornaments on the tree. It just had the white lights that likely came with the tree when Daryl had bought it. Along with that, there was a line of string lights that Daryl had hung up around the bedroom area of his apartment.

“I like what you’ve done with the place for Christmas,” she pointed toward the lights provoking a grunt to fall from Daryl’s throat while he continued painting whatever it was he was working on. “It’s very much in the Christmas spirit.”

“At least I put something up,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, with his cigarette still hanging from his lips. “You mentioned the place being depressing the last time you were here, so I decided to brighten the place up a bit.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic. I was impressed,” she implied, stepping forward across his apartment. Curling her arms around her, she realized that she was freezing. “I’m sorry for coming here. I just didn’t know where else to go. And I didn’t want to go home.”

 “You never have to apologize to me. You’re always welcome in my home,” Daryl declared, tossing his cigarette into the ashtray that was in the distance. Rubbing his hands together, Daryl cleared his throat and shrugged. Really Daryl didn’t seem too bothered at the idea of having her there. “I enjoy the company.”

“You told me that you hate being around people. You’ve said that many times,” she reminded him, getting him to roll his eyes at her comment. “You’re a loner. You like to remind me of that all the time.”

“Yeah, I hate most people. Just not you. You’re different,” Daryl muttered under his breath, simply shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. Once his blue eyes looked upon her again, Daryl frowned and pushed his chair away from his canvas that he was working on. “Do you want some pajama pants and a t-shirt? You look wet.”

“Are they clean?” she teased getting the middle finger from him in response. It made her laugh as he stood up from the seat with a groan.

Heading toward the bedroom area, Daryl pulled open one of his drawers. Pushing through some of his things, he grabbed a t-shirt and then opened another drawer for the pajama pants. Holding them at his side, Daryl approached her and held it out to her.

“They are freshly washed, I promise you,” Daryl scoffed, his face scrunching up in irritation when he threw them out to her and she laughed when she caught them.

“Thank you,” she muttered, looking down at the clothes. They did in fact smell like they were freshly washed, but she couldn’t help giving him a hard time since most of his things were covered in paint. A lot of people would give Daryl a hard time about looking dirty so he always got annoyed at those kind of comments.

“I happen to think I smell great you know,” Daryl reasoned with her looking to his hands to gaze upon the paint that was covering them. “Let me go clean up and wash this paint off of me while you change. After you get that dress off of you, we can throw it up in the bathroom to dry. I have some coffee on if you want something to help you warm up.”

“That’d be great,” she appreciated how quick he was to help her. This was like Daryl though. He’d happily welcome her into his apartment, no questions asked.

Watching him closely, she started to take off her clothes while he walked off into the bathroom. In the distance she could see his reflection in the mirror while he worked to scrub at the paint over his hands. By the time she was dressed in what he had given her, Daryl was waiting for her by the bathroom to help her get her dress up to help it dry. Motioning her toward the kitchen area of his apartment, Daryl grabbed her a mug when she went for the coffee. Setting it down on the counter, Daryl headed back toward the painting that he was working on leaving her there to prepare her coffee the way she wanted it. What amused her about Daryl is that he had two mugs. One that was his and one that he kept for her when she came over.

Grabbing one of the stray chairs that was in Daryl’s apartment, she was careful to hold the mug in one hand while she dragged her chair over beside Daryl to get a look at the painting he was working on. Taking a seat, she got comfortable and took a minute to gaze upon his art. It was a stunning portrait of a woman. And it was big. What surprised her about Daryl was how he didn’t have more jobs than he did. When Daryl did portraits, they were incredible. He was a hell of an artist and she was always impressed with the things that he was working on.

“You are so talented,” she blurt out, eliciting a scoff from Daryl who never really thought much of himself to begin with. “She’s a pretty girl. Who is she?”

“It’s a commission piece,” he answered, his fingers curling around the seat that he was on. Bracing his weight, Daryl joined her in looking at the painting. “There is something about it that doesn’t feel right.”

“You say that about all of your pieces,” she reminded him, cupping her coffee mug in her hands hoping to warm up with it there. Even though the coffee might help her sober up, she just preferred the warmth of the mug there for now. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Or not hard enough,” he countered, his right eyebrow arching up when he turned to look at her. A stray piece of his dark hair fell into his eyes. Pushing it back behind his ear, Daryl looked upon her expectantly. “Okay, so spill your guts. What happened? I know Christmas is the worst time of the year for you with work.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with me venting to you?” she wondered, showing a sense of worry about coming to Daryl only to complain about her life. Standing up from the stool that he was on, Daryl grabbed one of his normal chairs and pulled it in front of her. Turning it around, Daryl straddled the chair and lowered down, crossing his arms over the top part of the back of the chair.

“When have I ever had a problem with you talking to me?” Daryl seemed frustrated that she would even ask him that. Shaking his head, Daryl sighed loudly and lowered his head to rest his chin on his arms. “After this long, I think you know I will listen to you anytime you want to talk.”

“I don’t know Daryl. I just feel bad that I always come to you when I’m upset. I just think you may be my only real friend at this point,” she confessed to him, hating to say it but it was how she felt. Daryl was the only person that she had a bond with where it didn’t feel fake with him. There was nothing about their relationship that was conditional. “I don’t want you thinking you’re my last resort. Because you’re not. I appreciate you and everything you do for me. You’re just the only person that makes me feel like I can really be me. The only person that I can be honest with.”

“That’s because I am,” Daryl snorted, giving her a wrinkle of his nose. It had her smiling when he threw his hand up in the air. It was blunt, but he probably wasn’t wrong. “But that’s okay because you are the only person that I feel that way with too. So go for it. Tell me what’s up.”

“Before I go off and make myself look bad, do you have something that you want to talk about first?” she wanted to open the door to give Daryl the opportunity to talk about his life so she didn’t feel like such an asshole about things.

Chuckling at the idea, Daryl shook his head and nodded toward his painting, “What you see behind me is the only difference in my life right now. Same old, same old. Just painting. I’m a very boring person.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she refused, shaking her head in response.

“You’re delaying talking about why you are here,” Daryl pushed, tapping his hands against the back of the chair with his blue eyes narrowing. “So go ahead.”

“I’m just…not happy,” she whispered, having a hard time looking Daryl in the eye when she finally admitted things to him. “Every day, I find myself hating my life more and more. I used to be able to hold it in, but today, I just…I let a lot of it slip and that’s not like me.”

“Everyone has their breaking point. You just waited four years to have yours,” Daryl thought aloud, “I’m surprised it took you this long. I would have erupted in the first year from all of it. The first day really. Maggie really needs to be knocked on her ass.”

“Daryl,” she couldn’t help but be amused at how simply he said things. Shrugging dramatically, Daryl didn’t seem to care that his comment sounded harsh. “I can’t do that.”

“Oh, you can do that. And you should do that, you just won’t,” Daryl stressed, throwing his hands about while he spoke. “You just won’t. All because of a stupid promise you gave her father. I doubt her father knew that she was such a cunt. And I don’t think he’d want you being miserable to make sure his daughter had a good life.”

“Touché,” she exhaled loudly, knowing that Daryl hated Maggie. In her years of being close to both Daryl and Maggie, it was very obvious that the both of them heavily disliked each other. And they always did. Not once did they let up on it.

“I don’t know why you hold so tightly to that promise,” Daryl’s southern drawl had her sighing loudly. “Never did I understand it. I don’t think he expected you to make yourself miserable to lift his daughter up when she didn’t deserve it. He’d probably want you to put Maggie in her place.”

“Hershel was the closest thing to a father figure I had in my life for a long time,” she reminded Daryl, but that was a response that he never really went for. There was always an excuse she had as to why she continued to let things go with Maggie and he hated that. “You know I’m alone.”

“First of all, fuck you. You’re not alone. You have me,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, leaning back enough to place his hand in over the center of his bare chest. “Second, just because you’re alone doesn’t mean you have to suffer through this bullshit.”

“I don’t really think I can put up with much of her bullshit anymore,” she acknowledged, the lump in her throat growing along with the ache in her chest. After tonight she felt like her tolerance was completely starting to disappear. “I have finally realized that Maggie was never really my friend in the first place.”

“No shit,” Daryl scoffed, his nose wrinkling in disgust. That was something he tried to convince her for a very long time, but she never seemed to open her eyes to the truth. So to hear her talking like that made Daryl happy. “I’ve always told you that. Anyone with eyes can tell she uses you to make herself feel better. Common sense Y/N. She stole your work in order to get a job.”

“She said that was an accident,” she alerted Daryl who grumbled a slew of curse words under his breath.

“Right,” Daryl bit down on his bottom lip, his body tensing up because there was no way he believed that comment. And really? She didn’t either. It did feel purposeful at the time. “She took the job you always wanted. The job she didn’t even want. She just did it to do it. Now, she wants it cus’ she likes the attention it gets her and she still uses you all the time.”

Giving a single nod, she knew that Daryl wasn’t wrong.

“A friend don’t fuck the guy you’ve been in love with for years either,” Daryl slurred, his southern tone growing deeper with him lifting his hand to wave it about to make a point. “Maggie wants to hurt you because hurting you proves she’s better than you. And you let her hurt you. We both know she’s a fucking cunt.”

Sighing loudly, Y/N forced herself to look down at the ground. There was a warmth flooding into her face and she hated to admit Daryl was right, but she knew he was correct all along, “You’re not wrong.”

“I’m happy you’re finally agreeing with me, but what did she do to make you say fuck this?” Daryl inquired, his eyebrow arching up in curiosity. “Usually, you put up more of a fight than this for Maggie.”

“It’s a buildup of things. The abuse I take every day. The lack of acknowledgement or credit for the work that I do and the ideas I provide her with. It was no different today than the rest of the days, but today she was supposed to do an event for Negan. Be a key speaker at an event to try to get donations for the college we used to go to,” she educated Daryl on how her day began. “Apparently she had a sudden meeting that she couldn’t miss. So she told me to step in for her. Didn’t ask me. And like I always do, I saved Maggie’s ass. I went to this event and I started talking to Negan. I was very blunt with him tonight. I couldn’t hold it in about being miserable. And I couldn’t hold in my feelings about Maggie. I just let them rip. I asked him why he fell for Maggie and he told me that the day after she met him she kept going back every day to flirt with him. Saying she was very blunt about it. Persistent. And the day that I found them having sex together on our couch in our apartment, Maggie told Negan that I would be gone all night because I would be spending time with you. Maggie knew very well that I would be coming home. She staged it so I would see it.”

“See, this is what I’m saying,” Daryl scowled, his blue eyes narrowing. “The bitch deserves to get knocked on her ass. She’s not your friend. She never was. And Negan needs a swift kick to the balls for falling for it.”

“She promised me that she wouldn’t let things go any further. She knew how much I loved him and she still did that,” she felt her heart breaking considering this was the person that she took care of more than anyone, other than Jordyn. For so long she thought Maggie was her best friend, but no one had ever hurt her as much as Maggie had. “I asked Negan what he loved about her today, what it was that drew him to her. It’s obvious that he’s head over heels in love with her. Just the way other people talk about her says he can’t stop talking about her. And then I asked him what he thought about me.”

“You’re just asking to be hurt,” Daryl hissed at the idea of whatever it was that Negan said because now it was starting to make sense why she looked so upset. “I hate that piece of shit too.”

“He told me that he got with Maggie because she reminded him of Lucille and that she was the first person to show interest,” she recalled what it was that Negan had said while they were together. “I can’t imagine he didn’t know how I felt about him.”

“Unless he was fucking stupid,” Daryl declared getting her to laugh at how firmly he made that statement.

“He told me that he views me as his angel. The woman who saved him. And like I’m the mother to his daughter,” she informed Daryl what Negan had said, breaking it down in not so many words. “And then I asked him why he didn’t try to hook up with me. He uh…he laughed.”

“I told you I never liked that motherfucker,” Daryl put emphasis on his words, throwing his hand about when he spoke. “I know you think that he’s this special guy, but he always rubbed me the wrong way. Allowing you to take care of his daughter while he was off having a mental fucking breakdown and then fucking your best friend? Fuck that dude Y/N. I don’t understand why you are so head over heels for him in the first place. The one time I sat in his class, I felt like he was the most arrogant prick I’d ever listened to. The ego on him was fucking huge.”

“There are parts of him that I know that other people don’t,” she was quick to defend Negan, but then she even rolled her eyes at her own comment. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about things because he doesn’t feel the same way about me and I know that. Tonight confirmed it for me. But it doesn’t stop there.”

“Oh boy,” Daryl couldn’t believe that there was more. Especially after the whole Negan thing. Knowing that Negan confirmed that he didn’t like her like that should have been the main thing to devastate her. If there was something worse, Daryl knew it had to be bad.

“I went to pick up something for work,” Y/N nodded in the direction of the things she brought with her from Maggie’s house. “I walked in on Maggie having sex with our boss. And I mean, he was really giving it to her. Good. The first thing she jumped on was begging me to not tell Negan. But then her begging went to her down talking me putting me in a corner. She threatened to take away my job if I told Negan about her having an affair. I guess it’s pretty normal for her to fuck a lot of people. She told me that if I told Negan what I saw, she would get Jordyn taken away from me. She would take away my job. And I’d be forced to leave New York because I’d have no income.”

“That’s when you should have said fuck you Maggie, I’m calling his ass right now,” Daryl snorted, his throat tensing up along with the muscles in his chest. Tossing his hand up, he pointed at her when he saw the color flooding into her face. “But you didn’t.”

“She is capable of that Daryl. I can’t get another job. I’ve been a glorified slave over the last four years. And then I asked Negan today if he could get me a job in the film industry and he told me it was pretty much impossible,” she repeated what Negan had told her earlier getting Daryl to roll his eyes. Dropping his head down, Daryl grumbled under his breath and shook his head. “I need my paycheck. I can’t keep my apartment if I lose my job. And you know how much Jordyn means to me.”

“I’ve seen you with Jordyn. That little girl would not allow that to happen. Maggie could shit talk you to Negan, but Jordyn loves you. You are unfortunately like that little girl’s mother. You co-parent a child with Negan without having the man nut in you,” Daryl rambled on, getting a tiny laugh from her throat at how forward he was about things. “And your job? So what? Lose your job. I’ll move you in here with me until we can get you on your feet. You’re talented. Your talent will speak for itself eventually. And if you can’t get something, I can talk to Carol.”

“We’re not going to get the help of that woman that you had an affair with when you were younger,” she frowned at the suggestion of it making Daryl laugh. That was something Daryl always said to her when she was upset. “I know the two of you are like good friends now, but it would feel weird.”

“She works at the rival company of Vixen,” Daryl reminded Y/N of the hookup that he had who could help her. “I’m sure if we wanted to, we could give her some of your work and she’d easily get you a job there. You would be like their secret weapon against Guy Vixen and fucking Maggie Greene. There are options. Do not let that woman overrule your life.”

“It’s Jordyn I’m the most worried about,” she knew that the other things were bad, but it was Negan’s daughter that left the lasting impression on her. “I know how much Negan loves Maggie. If she wants me out of their lives, I’ll lose that little girl. And I’m not really her mother so it will be easy for Maggie to achieve.”

“God,” Daryl huffed out, lifting his hand to bury his head at the center of it. “Why did you have to fall for Negan? Falling for me would have been so much easier.”

“Yes, I know,” she sighed loudly, falling back against her chair with Daryl slowly lifting his head. Arching his eyebrow, Daryl’s blue eyes locked on hers and she shook her head. “You remind me of that all the time.”

“I was head over heels in love with you when we first met,” Daryl stated, biting down on his bottom lip recalling what it was like for him when he first met her. “If you would have just fallen for me instead of that prick, things would have been a whole lot easier for you.”

“But I don’t think we would have been this close,” she spoke honestly, her eyebrows furrowing with Daryl speaking up about them getting together again.

“You know the first time that you slept with me was when you found Maggie and Negan together, right?” Daryl pointed out, leaning back in the chair drawing attention to his chest and it made her suck in a sharp breath of air. “I took advantage that night and it was wrong.”

“I was throwing myself at you hard and I knew how you felt about me. So if someone is bad in the relationship, it was me,” she defended Daryl who tipped his head to the side, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “I thought that was the way to make myself feel better. Sex with you makes me feel better.”

“So is that why you’re here? You want to have sex?” Daryl offered causing her to smirk and have color flood into her face further. “I’m not joking. Us having sex has helped you feel better multiple times. I have a brand-new pack of condoms in the nightstand. We can get naked, turn off the lights. Open up the windows and let the light from the city flood in. Keep the tree and the string lights on. And we can have sex during the winter storm. It can be a whole new experience for you.”

Biting at her bottom lip, she gave Daryl a look that had him huffing out. Throwing his hands up in the air, he shook his head and tapped his hands against the chair again, “We have sex all the time Y/N. I don’t get why you’re second guessing it now.”

“We have sex when we’re horny Daryl. I don’t trust random strangers,” she admitted to him, an ache flooding her chest with the expression that he had over his features. “Plus, you’re my best friend. I feel like if we continue to have sex, the lines are going to blur.”  

“If that was the case, the lines blurred a long time ago because we’ve had sex a lot,” Daryl countered, sucking at his bottom lip, his blue eyes locking with hers and it made her heart skip a beat. “I think it’s so good because we are close.”

“It sounds like you’re the one that might want the sex,” she noted, licking her lips when she started to consider Daryl’s offer.

“So what if I do? It makes both of us feel good for a while. I’m telling you, if Negan knew how good you were at riding a cock, he would give up Maggie in an instant,” Daryl spouted off getting her to choke at how blunt he was being about the sex life that they had shared together. “I’m just saying, I’ve never nutted so hard in my life.”

“Thanks Daryl,” she snickered at the thought, shaking her head when she considered what Daryl was offering. “I guess, just with Negan…I’ve never felt so unwanted in my life.”

“Then come here,” Daryl wiggled his fingers about, getting up from the chair and moving over toward the bed. Dropping down on the bottom of it, Daryl started to push at his jeans working them down his legs. It had her staring out at him from where she was seated on the chair. “I’ll make you feel wanted. Show you the things you wish he would.”

“Sex doesn’t fix things Daryl. It feels good for a small amount of time, but that’s it,” she reasoned with Daryl, getting up from the chair that she was seated in to stare down at him as she approached the bed. “These are genuine things that I’m worried about. Things that…”

“Things that aren’t going to go away overnight. Nothing I say is going to fix these things cus’ you are going to do what you want to do at the end of the day,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, outstretching his fingers toward the nightstand. Pulling open the top drawer, he pulled out the pack of condoms and snagged one of the foil packages from it. “You want to feel special. I see it in the way that you are looking at me. Let me make you feel special.”

Sinking his fingers into his boxers that he was wearing, Daryl pushed the material down his body by lifting his hips up. Letting the material pool at his ankles, he kicked it aside and wiggled his finger at her again, “You know I’m drunk.”

“I’m never not drunk,” Daryl slurred with a grunt, his blue eyes watching her closely when she looked down at his naked body. By having the discussion that they were, Daryl was somewhat erect. “It’s not like either one of us would be taking advantage of the other. We’re two friends that enjoy having sex together. You’re looking for someone to make you feel good. I enjoy any time I get to spend with you. If this isn’t what you want, I’ll just as happily lay down in bed with you and we can talk the rest of the night.”

Biting down on his bottom lip, Daryl watched her movements as she stepped forward. Moving for the windows, she pulled apart the curtains to let the light in from the outside. Heading next for the lights, she turned them off only allowing the city lights to flood into his apartment along with the Christmas lights. Stepping in front of Daryl, she felt her heart rate quicken with the way that he was staring up at her in the shadows. Working out of his t-shirt, she tossed it onto the bed and then worked on the pajama pants. There was something in the way that he looked at her that made her feel seen. That made her feel special.

“Do you think I have nice breasts?” she wondered, standing before Daryl naked and it made him smirk. Since those were the main topic of tonight, it was something that had been on her mind a lot. “Because tonight, everyone kept talking about them. I didn’t realize how capable they were of drawing attention.”

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” Daryl braced himself when she moved carefully in over him. Pressing his hands in over her sides, Daryl gave her hips a firm squeeze with her right arm hooking loosely around his muscular shoulders. “They are nice breasts. So of course they could make anyone do anything. You should use them more often.”

Pulling her in over his lap, Daryl reached for the condom that he grabbed being careful to work open the foil packaging. Faintly, her hands dragged down over his shoulders toward his chest. Caressing up over the side of his neck had Daryl tipping his head to the side and she pampered his neck with tiny kisses. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, Daryl’s eyes came to a tight close before forcing himself to focus. Working his condom on, Daryl grunted and curled his arm around her waist to pull her firmly in over him. Clasping her chin between his thumb and index finger, Daryl got her to lock eyes with him and he dragged his thumb over her bottom lip.

“I wish you allowed yourself to see you the way I always saw you,” Daryl slurred, lifting up enough to capture her lips in a lingering kiss. Reaching between the two of them with his free hand, he helped to lead his body to hers. It had her eyes closing tightly, the warmth of her breath vibrating against his when she moaned at their bodies being joined together. Hovering his lips over hers, Daryl brushed his thumb at the side of her neck and tipped his head back. “You are so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Allowing her to make the first move, Daryl was silent when she took her time lifting her hips and then slowly lowered them over him. Staring up at her with awe, he was breathless with the way that her head tipped back. A rush of pleasure flooded into her face and it was something he knew that he was addicted to. Palming down over her back, Daryl stopped when his hands squeezed firmly at her bottom helping to aid her movement over his rigid length, “You’d be the most arrogant woman alive if you gave yourself that opportunity.”

“You wouldn’t like me arrogant,” she hushed him, pressing wet kisses over his bottom lip. Cupping his face in her hands, she allowed her right hand to caress in over the side of his neck. Sinking her fingers into his hair had him tipping his head back with her lips hovering in over his. “You like me the way I am.”

“But I’d rather you happy,” Daryl commented, his eyelids growing heavy with his sharp breathing filling the dark room with their bodies moving in unison. Winces fell from Daryl’s throat when her movements gradually grew harder and faster. Dropping his head down, Daryl rest it against the side of her neck with her clinging firmly to him. “Negan is a goddamn fool.”

“I think I’m the fool,” she alerted him, tugging firmly at his mid-length hair. Bouncing her hips over him harder had Daryl moaning against her flesh, the warmth of his breath causing chills down her spine. “I should have known that he’d never love me or want me.”

“Then that’s his loss,” Daryl grunted, forcefully rolling her over onto her back. Crawling carefully in over her, Daryl hooked his arm around her, bringing them closer together. With his free hand, he swept his thumb in over her jawline and let out a tremoring breath. “Anyone with half a brain would see how special you are. He had eight years to see it and he never made a move. So that’s his loss. Don’t forget how special you are. How beautiful you are.”

Daryl’s thrusts were slow, his breathing broken with every roll of his hips against hers. Meeting her in small kisses over and over, Daryl cradled her head tenderly. Lowering in closer to her, he braced his weight and started to move faster having her pants fill the air. Nibbling at her bottom lip, he groaned with her fingers digging into his flesh.

“Look at me,” he breathed, curling his fingers around the back of her neck, his lips hovering over hers. Just close enough for his lips to skim faintly at her bottom lip. “Never doubt how perfect you are.”

Lifting up, she stole a kiss from Daryl’s lips knowing that this was a bad way to do things. What should have been a onetime thing between them had grown to be pretty consistent. With how she knew Daryl felt about her, it made her feel like a bad person every time she let this happen. Daryl never hid his feelings from her. So for him to know that she was head over heels in love with Negan, yet she was still having sex with Daryl pretty frequently felt wrong. But there was something about the way that Daryl looked at her. Touched her. Spoke to her. It all made her feel special. Something she hadn’t felt in many years.

And that’s why she had trouble turning him down. Not only tonight but all the other nights before. Although, she needed this more than she even knew. Because Daryl was the only person that made her feel seen and tonight proved that.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976​ @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @pixelb4rbie @ibelongtonegan

@smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan

@redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted

@akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03

@sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf

@promiscuousbarnes @lanadelnegan @peachihellcat @dilfsandmartinis

[bring-forth-his-sac]

The Christmas Party - Chapter 3

Summary: Now that you have a party to plan, you decide to start with the decorations... but Negan has a more exciting idea in mind.

Word Count: 5.2k

Tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, Negan being an asshole, reader being an asshole too ?

previous chapter can be found here

After your vow to stay resolute in your (accidental) decision to help with the Christmas party, you vanished on Negan. He half-expected you to ambush him first thing the next morning but nothing came.  

In a perfect world, you would have gone home that day, realized your pettiness and followed Negan’s original advice. You would have humbled yourself and gone straight to Gregory, petitioning for this pain in the ass party to be called off.

“Carl! That funky eye of yours doesn’t mean your legs don’t work!” Negan shouts at one of the students in his afternoon class “Run for the ball, damn it! Quit standing on the sidelines!”.

The whistle around Negan’s neck swings as he struts along the side of the basketball court, muttering to himself. Despite the chill in the air, it’s sunny outside and so they’re not all stuck inside the sports hall, where Negan would’ve been trapped in the thick air of sweaty, hormonal teens. 

But that’s not the only reason he’s glad to be outside on the courts. After Negan’s plan backfired and filled you with spiteful devotion to the Christmas party, he can’t bear to be in the sports hall, knowing it’s only a matter of time before his colleagues wreck havoc on his little slice of heaven.

A polite cough behind him pulls him out of his thoughts. Negan is about to grumble to some kid to cover their mouth but when he glances behind, he sees you instead. 

“Fan- fucking -tastic,” Negan says drily “my day has just got ten times better”.

The sight of a notebook pressed against your chest makes him want to groan. Hoping for some kind of a miracle, he asks “You get the party cancelled yet?”.

You join him by the sidelines, smiling mischievously. “Nope,” you reply cheerfully “I think I’d rather torture you by making you help organize it instead”. 

Negan scoffs, looking back at the game. You take it as your que to continue. Looking down at your notebook you read the small list you’ve made of the different categories you’ll both have to tackle. 

Food. Drink. Music. Decorations.

You read your small list out loud before thinking “Is there anything else a party needs? I guess we could have some kinda entertainment, right?”.

With a long exhale, Negan rubs his forehead “You want a bunch of middle aged teachers to play party games?”. 

You shrug “Well, I don’t know how else to keep them entertained…”

“Booze. That’s all you need, not charades or pin the tail on the donkey”.

You write that down, encircling the drinks category before continuing “Well, I’m free for the rest of the day so whenever you want to—“.

“Christ, Patrick! Follow through on your shot!” Negan interrupts, yelling at another poor kid “better fix that limp wrist for your sake!”.

You blink at the… uh… advice, if you could call it that. 

Negan begins making his way down the side of the court, following the action surrounding the basketball as he shouts more words of wisdom. You watch with a mix of curiosity and disbelief, suddenly feeling more confident in your own, calmer teaching style.  

When Negan finally turns his attention back to you, he raises an eyebrow, his tone turning sarcastic again.

"Class ends in about ten minutes. How about we talk afterwards, so you're not following me around like a damn shadow?" he sighs, checking his watch.

Before you can retort your own thinly veiled insult, he’s off shouting at the kids again, this time clapping his arms to really amp them up.

You shake your head, grip tightening on your notebook as you turn on your heels to leave. Your plan was to just wait in his office but once you get to the door, your eyes are drawn to the adjacent double doors of the sports hall. 

If this is where you’ll be having the party, you may as well get a lay of the land now. 

Creeping inside the barren hall, it’s the quietest you’ve ever seen it. The large room is almost eerie without the clatter of basketballs or the sounds of kids shouting. You pause in the doorway, taking in the empty space. Soon, it’ll be filled with noise— this time, for the Christmas party you’ve roped yourself into.

Walking deeper into the room, you wonder how much convincing it’ll take to get Negan up on a ladder to hang tinsel and string lights across the high ceiling. The hall is desperate for some holiday ambience and your brain aches as you try to figure out just how much tinsel will be needed.

Thankfully, your phone buzzes with a welcome distraction. 

Carol: You want to be a good samaritan and help me bake some cookies after school? Need them for the bake sale 

You: Have my hands full planning party 

You: but I could be tempted if I get to taste test some :D

After you informed everyone that you will be planning the party (and to hold off on the barrage of questions), Carol was the only one who didn’t give you a pitiful look when you mentioned it being you and Negan organizing it.

“Negan’s��� complicated,” she told you this morning. Surprisingly, that was the most polite description of him you’ve heard.

“Just keep your distance, keep your head down and do the work” Carol listed “he’ll complain a lot but he will get the job done. Eventually”.

Given how much people seem to dislike him, hearing a neutral take felt like a welcome shift.

Carol: you’re starting to sound like my students

You let out a soft laugh before quickly typing a reply, letting her know you’re not sure if you’ll be finished with Negan by then. As much as you hate to admit it, you know how easily you two can fall into a back-and-forth, letting the time slip away without even realizing it.

Carol replies with a thumbs up, and to kill some time, you check the group chat. It’s been a while since you’ve looked at the new messages.

You don’t blame yourself though, not when it’s where you got yourself into this mess. It’s like returning to the scene of a crime but this time you know better than to hurriedly send in a text.

Gregory: WHO GOT THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS INSTALLATION VAN CLAMPED

Gregory: HOW? WHY?????

Sasha: I told you they shouldn’t park in designated spaces 

Rosita: they had their warning

Gregory: they want to school to pay the fee

Sasha: better than slashed tires

Gregory: go to principal Grime’s office , this needs to be sorted now

Rosita: I’m in the middle of teaching a class ??

Gregory: and you’re busy texting?!?!?!?

Gregory: both of you. Principal Grime’s office. NOW

A chuckle from behind makes you shiver and jerk away, hot breath fanning against the side of your neck. Negan peers over at your phone, having read the messages.

“I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation” he snorts, offering you a smirk as you tuck your phone away “can’t say I blame Rosita though, Gregory’s definitely the type of asshat that let them park there”.

“Yeah and you wanted me to talk to that asshat about getting this party cancelled” you grumble, irritation creeping into your tone

“In the past, sweetness,” Negan smiles just to annoy you “now we’re a team, ain’t we?”.

“In the past?! Negan, that was yesterday!” you point out exasperatedly, wandering around the hall to burn off some of your already pent up energy.

“And yesterday is in the past”.

You shoot him a glare but all that achieves is a wider grin looking back at you. Damn him. You run a hand down your face, forcing yourself to stop— both physically and mentally.

Negan’s trying to get you to bite, to start bickering with him so you’ll lose focus on the party and storm off. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to gather yourself. Unfortunately, when you open them again he still has that cocky smile on his face that makes you want to throttle him.

“Do you have any decorations from the previous years?” Your tone is sharper than necessary but that’s what he gets when he’s being a jerk.

“Usually, they’d host this shit at a fancy little place called the Kingdom, so we don’t have much” he replies, his demeanor easing now that you haven’t taken the bait.

“Really?” you question, expecting at least a worn down Christmas tree “What about things for a nativity or Christmas carols?”.

“Yeah cause nothing screams party like having the fuckin’ nativity scene laid out in the middle of the room” Negan teases, fishing keys out of the back pocket of his sweatpants.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you match his sarcasm with a dose of your own “Well, no, I’m not suggesting we all get drunk in front of baby Jesus”.

Negan lets out a small chuckle, but it sounds unfamiliar. This isn’t the mischievous laugh you heard when he tried to set you up, nor is it the smirk he gave you when you were badmouthing him.

No, this is something else. It’s a rare, genuine sound– a laugh that seems to catch even him off guard. And strangely enough, it’s aimed at you. You try not to linger on it, not wanting to make things awkward.

“If you wanna have a look yourself, knock yourself out” Negan strides over to the small storage room door and you follow behind as he unlocks it.

You stand there, waiting for him to open it but he doesn’t. Instead, Negan pauses for a moment, then he turns to face you with that familiar, smug grin.

“Enjoying the view?” he teases, letting the question hang in the air.

“I— ugh! Negan!” you scold, stepping forward and pushing the door open yourself. Negan doesn’t stop you, even flicking the light on as you go first. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” Negan says, grabbing one of the boxes to prop the door open. “This shit’s old... probably as old as me, so the door’s heavy and a real bastard to yank open from the inside”.

Inside, you’re met with a chaotic mess; boxes piled on top of boxes, cones and rackets scattered across the floor, and a jumble of balls stacked on a rack against the wall.

Technically, the room is large but with all the clutter, there’s barely enough space to move around. Inching your way across a small clearing, you almost wedge yourself between two tall stacks of boxes. “Any idea which ones might have the festive goods?” you ask. 

“Pretty sure it’s the two at the back,” Negan trails after you, clearly uninterested “y’can usually see a bit of tinsel shimmering through the box”.

“This is a good start… I guess,” you try to take an optimistic approach “at least there’s something here”.

You carefully navigate through the maze of clutter, sidestepping loose javelins and dodging stray tennis balls. The mess makes every step feel like a mini obstacle course.

As you finally reach the last stack, you tug the lid off the nearest box, the dust tickling your nose. Peering inside, you slowly begin to sift through its contents—a jumble of tinsel, some baubles that have no string and a few random holiday knickknacks.

Negan leans against the next stack of boxes, arms crossed, watching you with mild amusement.

“Oh wow, you’re just going straight for it, huh?” he commentates, unbothered to help “it’s like you’re on a treasure hunt… y’know if you want to find the real treasure, you’re in luck”.

You don’t bite, not believing his bullshit. Even with no response, Negan continues “I know exactly where to find the crown jewels”. He gives you a wink but you miss it, keeping your head down as you rummage.

”… hellllllloooooo?” he pokes your side.

You pull out a handful of mismatched ornaments and toss them at him. “Maybe you should stop doing nothing and actually help?” you suggest as he barely manages to catch them.

With an exaggerated sigh, Negan starts to search the second box. “I was doing something,” he protests, carelessly looking through the box “flirting, if you didn’t notice”.

“Yeah, well if that’s your idea of flirting, I pray I’m not your type” you jeer.

This time, Negan doesn’t reply. You wonder if he’s taking a page out of your book and ignoring you but then you feel his eyes land on you. 

Readying your disapproving look, you turn to meet Negan’s gaze. “What?” you ask, already annoyed by whatever shenanigan he’s about to pull. 

With the ghost of a smirk, Negan simply stares at you for a moment. He doesn’t let his eyes wander like how you expected, the action something you thought he’d do just to get a rise out of you. Wetting his lips, Negan teasingly pulls his hand out of the box, bringing with it a tattered piece of mistletoe. 

“Guess there’s only one way to find out if you’re my type” he shakes the mistletoe, accidentally making one of the plastic leaves fall off.

“Oh fuck off” you don’t stop the words coming out of your mouth, turning on your heels to leave.

Flinging the mistletoe back into the box, Negan follows. You’re half tempted to kick the box that’s keeping the door open just to lock him in, but his long strides allow him to catch up with you in no time. 

“Awh, c’mon,” he teases “are you always in ‘teacher mode’ ?”.

“Only when I’m around immature people”.

“Very funny,” Negan comments as you storm back out to the empty hall. He can tell he’s almost got you; you’re so close to walking out, yet you won’t give him the satisfaction.

Negan knows how to push people’s buttons— it's one of his favorite hobbies. He enjoys testing how much people will tolerate, seeing what it takes to crack them. For some, a single remark is enough to make them fold, while others can take a whole barrage, letting it build up bit by bit. 

The most frustrating thing about you is that you can take a lot, all while throwing your own taunts right back at him. You rub your forehead, trying to will yourself into not punching him.

“You got any classes left today?” he breaks the silence, his tone surprisingly conversational considering the amount of teasing he’s been doing. 

Every question feels like a set up for some next lewd joke or suggestion and so you simply nod your head. 

“Perfect,” he says, locking up the storage room and tossing the keys up into the air before catching them “let’s go grab some new decorations”.

You raise an eyebrow, curious, but Negan doesn’t wait around. As he strolls out of the hall, you have to quicken your pace to keep up with him.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He glances over his shoulder, speaking to you as if you’re a three year old. “we go shop, buy new decorations, you happy, party less shit looking”.

“But don’t you have classes?” you badger him, watching as Negan makes a quick stop by his office. He drops the keys onto his desk, grabs his coat, and snatches up his car keys.

“Yeah, but Mark can cover for me,” he replies casually, clearly unfazed “it’s the bastard’s last day before his vacation, he can do some extra work”.

The last thing you expected was for Negan to suggest going on a quick trip together, especially with how little you two can tolerate each other. Negan lets out a short laugh when he sees your wary expression, clearly unconcerned. 

“He’ll figure it out,” he says nonchalantly, pulling out his phone to shoot a quick text to the other coach “it’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t give Fat Joey my class, don’t trust that fucker to teach gym”.

“Negan!” you slap his arm “Rude”.

He shrugs. 

The two of you walk out of the school and head toward the teacher’s parking lot. As you look around, a wave of hesitation hits you.

Even though you don’t have any more classes to teach today, you can’t shake the feeling that leaving early feels like you’re playing hooky.

Negan notices in an instant. With a small chuckle, he places both hands on your shoulders and gives you a gentle nudge forward.

“C’mon, Ms. Goody Two Shoes,” he teases, steering you toward his pick up truck “we won’t be gone long”.

You hesitate for a moment, still unsure. “Are you sure?” you try to look up at him as he directs you toward the passenger side “I don’t mind driving myself and meeting you there”.

“No need. I’ve got it covered,” he replies, taking his hands off you to open the door. With the automatic roll of your eyes, you get in.

The car ride to the store is a mix of awkward tension and playful banter. As Negan drives, he leans back in his seat with an easy confidence. Every now and then, he throws in a flirtatious comment but for the most part, he keeps it PG.

Surprisingly, Negan actually asked about you and why you’d move to “such a backend fuckin’ town”. You grabbed the opportunity to not argue or get flirted with and instead babbled on about why you needed a break away from your hometown (making sure to skip all the family rifts and drama). 

Pulling into the Target parking lot, the familiar smirk of the Negan you know resurfaces.

"I can always make time to give ya a real tour of the town," he says, and for a brief moment, you almost believe he's being sincere—until he adds, "With or without the extra stop at mine afterwards."

You let out an exaggerated sigh as he parks, shaking your head. "You're like a comedian that only knows one joke and no matter how many times it falls flat, you just keep saying it anyways".

Negan’s eyebrows bounce up as his truck comes to a stop, his tone dripping with cockiness “Oh it works real well, 99.9% success rate”.

“Wow, you’re just like bleach” you shoot back as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

Getting out of the truck and heading into the store, he proudly replies “All I have to say is I have been told I’m killer in the bedroom, so maybe I am like bleach”.

Shaking your head, you opt for a small basket instead of dragging around a massive cart. The last thing you need is Negan laughing as you struggle to control one of those things. 

“Do you have an off switch?” You taunt. 

Taking the basket off you, Negan’s fingers brush yours. He takes full advantage, tilting to the side so his tall frame is closer to your eye level.

Lowering his voice to what you can only assume is what he uses in the bedroom, he seductively growls “Wanna try to find it?”.

The look you give him says everything, and with a sharp ‘hmph ,’ you head toward the holiday section, letting him trail behind.

As you pass the Christmas trees, you glance at them, already knowing you’ll need to check your budget before committing to one for the party. This trip feels more like a reconnaissance mission—just picking up a few affordable things if you find them while scouting what else they have to offer.

Meanwhile, Negan simply drifts by, clearly bored now that the playful banter has faded. He’s like a kid that’s been dragged into grocery shopping with his mom—picking up random items and staring at the ceiling, hoping for some kind of entertainment. 

Negan would’ve spent his time staring at your ass but he knows better than to risk it. You’d throw a nutcracker at him if you caught him perving on you.

“ Neeeeeeegan ?” You drag out his name, watching the man completely zone out.

As much as you want to give him a piece of your mind, you can’t say you’re surprised. You both knew this was going to be a pain.

The only reason you’re party planning is out of spite, while Negan’s just here because he doesn’t want his sports hall to be trashed by either terrible decorations or the teachers on the night.  

Shaking the wreath in your hands, the bells jingle and you call out again “Negan? Hello?”.

Looking back to you, his expression softens just enough to pass as a real smile rather than a smirk. “I heard you the first time, I just like hearing you say my name,” he says, his tone playful.

You scoff, fighting the urge to smile. Unfortunately, you’re human so when a handsome man throws you a compliment, it’s impossible not to react, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he can be.

… handsome ?

You quickly shove that thought aside, irritated that your brain so easily confessed that. He is handsome, but… he’s Negan. An asshole, in other words.  

Alright, time to stop thinking about that.

“I, uh…” you swallow, trying to get your thoughts in order “The wreath! If we drape a tablecloth over the desks and put one of these in front of each, that’ll look nice, right?”

Negan gives a casual nod, eyes shifting between the wreath and the rows of holiday decorations.

“I mean, the desks are just for finger food and drinks anyways but… it’ll be festive!” you find yourself rambling, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. 

He scoffs at how you try to justify spending some money a on wreath, taking a few steps toward the sales section.

“How about…” Negan starts, picking up a small pumpkin statue priced at just a dollar, “…we buy a bunch of these and throw a Christmas hat on ‘em?”

You pause, unsure whether you should dignify that with a response.

“You want to use Halloween decorations?” you drop the wreath into the basket, rubbing a hand over your face in disbelief.

“I’m getting it” he puts the pumpkin next to your wreath.

You look down at the pumpkin and purse your lips. As if this party hasn’t been doomed from the get go, you don’t think having pumpkins there will help. You don’t have to voice your concerns, Negan can read your face. 

“Hey, I’m just offering a little direction,” he says, wandering down the aisle “someone’s gotta take charge when you’re doubting whether you should buy wreaths for a Christmas party”.

A flutter of defensiveness stirs within you, a shift in your chest that spreads like a warm yet  uncomfortable pressure.

Picking up a box of lights, you drop them in the basket “I’m not doubting, I just don’t want to buy junk that we won’t use”.

Negan stops, ignoring what you just said as he picks up some balloons. “We should get these… just gotta make sure this side is at the back” he lifts up the packet, showing you the gigantic ‘Happy 60th Birthday’ printing on the front of each balloon. 

“You’re kidding,” plucking the pack out of his hands, you put it back on the shelf “and I don’t need you to take charge of this, especially when you’re doing such a half assed job”. 

Negan scoffs “Am not”.

The more you try to ignore the building in your chest, the more it festers, growing into a quiet but insistent urge to clarify, to defend and correct the narrative.

“That’s all you do! You want to be in charge but you’re not thorough enough whenever you are” you explain as calmly as you can. 

There was a small bit of you that hoped Negan would listen to what you’re saying but he’s not interested in the feedback, waving his free hand dismissively as he walks back up the aisle.

“It’s easier when I’m in charge because I get shit done, I don’t try to reason with myself why I need to buy something– I just do it,” as if to prove the point, he puts another pumpkin into the basket.

It's like he’s not even trying to understand your point, and that’s a realization that makes your patience unravel.

The calm concern starts to fade and is replaced by a barely contained annoyance. 

“But you don’t try to make things easier for others, you literally just left Mark to deal with the rest of your classes for the day and complained at the idea of Mark letting Joey help! You’re always pushing your own agenda and railroading people into going along with it” taking a firm stance against him, you do the unthinkable. 

You reach your hand into the basket.

And remove a pumpkin.

Negan gives you a pointed look, boring into your skull and not even watching your hand place the pumpkin back on the shelf.

“Sweetheart, calm down, this isn’t a military operation,” he asserts “we’re just planning a damn party so lighten up. Get festive!”.

It’s maddening. Now you’re making a mountain out of a molehill? You should just lighten up because it’s a Christmas party and nothing more?

His dismissive tone is like a constant poke to your patience, stretching it thinner with every passing moment.  To make matters worse, Negan carries on like usual, wandering over to the next aisle.

Begrudgingly, you totter after him.

“You can’t just do that!” you snap, absentmindedly perusing the scented candles “you can’t act like this is something silly when I’m giving you valid criticism! I’m trying to put in effort here and actually make this party bearable”. 

It hits all at once, a rush of raw emotion that floods your mind and spills out before you can stop it.

Your voice shakes, not from fear, but from the overwhelming need to be heard. You don’t even have time to think, to carefully choose your words; it all comes out, unfiltered.

Every bit of irritation, confusion, and disbelief tumbling out in one breathless rant.  

“All you want to do is skip school, wander around here, flirt with me– even though I keep rejecting you! And just buy stupid shit that we don’t need for this party!” you rant, gesturing to the lonely pumpkin still in the basket.

“You have to respect other people’s time and their effort too. Not everyone wants to half-ass this! You get your own way all the time and no one will say no to you or make you do it their way. It’s Negan’s way or no way. And people are so used to letting you get away with shit again and again just because—“.

You stop yourself.

Your mouth clamps shut, stopping your cathartic rant before it can say anymore but it’s too late. Negan stands next to you, waiting.

Shit.

“… I like the cinnamon one,” you say quietly, trying to change the subject as you sniff the candles  “sometimes, I think they make the gingerbread ones too strong and the ones that are supposed to smell like vanilla never do”.

Negan doesn’t budge. A small smirk creeps up on his face. Negan already knows what you were going to say, he doesn’t need anyone to tell him.

He’s attractive, good in the sac, can charm the legs off anyone within a ten mile radius and happens to have one swoon worthy smile.

He gets away with this because he’s sexy. Nothing he can do about that, it’s natural!

“Go on,” he implores, tongue peeking out as he wets his bottom lip “say it with your chest, doll”.

You want to stay quiet. You know for the interest of everyone, you should. 

“People let you be an asshole because your wife died”.

You’ve never seen a change in someone so quick. His face darkens, veins pulsing at his temples as his jaw clenches so tight that his teeth almost grind together.

Negan’s eyes narrow into a hard, unforgiving stare. Every muscle in his body seems to coil, as if ready to snap. 

“Are you fucking shitting me?” he grunts. 

You’ve never seen him like this— not even when you’ve bickered with him. This is something different, something deeper.

His entire demeanor has shifted, like a switch was flipped, and all the previous irritation and taunting have been replaced by a quiet, seething fury that radiates from him in waves.

Your fingers curl around the candle but you barely register the sensation. Your eyes lock on him, wide and unblinking. He told you to say it, to be honest with him. 

Every muscle in your body feels frozen, as if something inside you has short-circuited. You’ve always thought you’d know what you’d do in a moment like this, whether you’d be a flight or fight type of person. But now, facing a full wave of intimidation, you realize the truth: you’re not the fight type. You’re not the flight type. 

You’re the freeze type.

It’s as if the air around you has thickened, the space between you and him narrowing to a suffocating stillness. You want to stutter out an apology but it’s all happened so suddenly that you forget how to. 

It feels like all you can do is stand there, rooted to the spot. In an instant, he snaps out of his silent rage and rushes into action. 

Without warning, Negan lets go of the shopping basket, letting it drop to the ground with a violent clatter. The sound cuts through the air like a gunshot and you jump.

His hands are still clenched into fists as he takes a step back and his eyes flash one last time at you with an unreadable mix of frustration and something deeper.  And then, he spins on his heel and storms off.

“Fuck this,” you hear muttered under his breath as he goes. 

You’re left standing there, the abruptness of it all taking the air from your lungs. Your legs take jittery steps forward before you meekly grab the basket and try to follow. 

With only a pumpkin, some lights and a wreath inside, the basket somehow pulls at your arms, as if you’re carrying a thousand things. Trying to follow, the basket swings awkwardly in your grasp, banging against your shins with each uncoordinated step.

“Negan?” You call out, your voice sounding smaller than you mean it to. Your gaze darts nervously from aisle to aisle and across the registers until you spot a tall and imposing shadow going out the main doors.

“No, no, no, no, no,” your heart thuds painfully against your chest, each beat louder than the last.

You set the basket down gently, almost afraid it might shatter if you move too quickly, before rushing out of the store. The cool air hits your skin, but it’s no relief. This can’t be happening. He can’t just leave you here. Not like this.

You move fast, almost stumbling, your eyes scanning the parking lot frantically. Cars of every make and model line the pavement, but there’s no sign of his truck.

A pang of panic rises in your throat as you take a few more steps, searching the sea of vehicles, your stomach tightening with every second that passes. His truck should be here. It should’ve been parked right where you left it.

The realization hits you like a wave. It’s not here.

A soft whine escapes your lips, barely a sound and yet it carries the weight of everything that’s suffocating you in that moment. Confusion. Anxiety. Guilt. And an overwhelming sense of abandonment. You stand frozen, the noise of the parking lot fading as the panic surges again. 

He’s gone.

-------

gif made from scenepack provided by harleys.scenes on insta <3

[pretty-circa006]

Sex Ed

Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader summary You have some follow up questions after Coach Negan's sex ed class tags student teacher relationship, age gap (reader is 18 negan is like pushing 40?), blowjob, pet names

wc: 1.9k

note i tried a little something new when writing this, can you tell what it is?

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

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Negan glowers at the students of his gym class sitting in the bleachers before him. They're all laughing like fools and making crude jokes that only displayed their immaturity. Seniors, they were supposed to be, but a majority of them acted like foolish middle schoolers.

"Listen up you dumb little sacks of shit!" he shouts. The students all quiet down, some getting startled by the loudness of his voice before doing so.

"I know a majority of you kids, well, technically young adults, are too immature to handle this shit, but the displeasure of teaching it to you has unfortunately been bestowed upon me." He slams his large hand on the whiteboard on wheels, bringing his students' focus to the topic of today's lesson; sex ed. His hazel-green eyes scan his audience with distain, daring them to say anything stupid- nobody did, which is a relief. But that relief instantaneously turned into dread when his eyes landed on her. From her seat in the center of the bleachers, she stares at Negan while seductively biting her finger and giving him sultry bedroom eyes.

He sighs to himself, quickly averting his gaze. She was always, always looking at him like that. Like she's an apex predator and he's the prey she'd been stalking, waiting to pounce and feast on his flesh. At first, it freaked him out, constantly feeling her eyes boring into his skin. But it quickly became flattering to know he had a little admirer. She's always the first to his class, the first to pay attention to him, the last to leave, and the only student to frequent his office. If that's all she did, she would have been just been a girl with an innocent little crush. But her crush was anything but little or innocent. He should have been able to realize that when she'd show up to every gym class in the world's tiniest shorts. If not then, he should at least have noticed when she'd spend excessive amounts of time in his office. He brushed all that off, though, assuming the shorts weren't for him and that she just liked his office for the air conditioning and bowl of candy on his desk.

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The lesson went by fairly smooth. Not many stupid joked were cracked, which was a win for Negan.

"Grab a complementary condom on your way out," he says as students get up from the bleachers, "and if you have any extra questions, you can come see me." He internally cringes at that last part. The internet was a thing and if students wanted to know something, they should look it up themselves instead of prolonging this awkward moment for him. But he had to do at least the bare minimum of what his job required him to do.

Thankfully, the students were just filing past him, some stopping to grab handfuls of condoms, and none of them stop to talk to him. The gymnasium is finally empty without a student in sight. Negan's honestly surprised she didn't stick around after class like she usually did, but he couldn't complain. He pushes his whiteboard back into his office and shuts the door behind him, ready to wind down and catch up on some work.

"Hey Coach."

"Jesus H. fuckin' Christ, kid!" A startled Negan shouts, hand clutching his heart. He finally notices the girl sitting at his desk in his chair with her feet propped up comfortably on the desk. He can't keep his eyes from scanning her legs, the smooth skin fully exposed from upper thigh to ankle.

She lets out a little giggle before her face returns to that usual seductive look.

"I had a question 'bout today's lesson," she tells him. Negan sighs and rubs a hand down his face, anticipating something wildly inappropriate to come from her mouth.

"Goddammit, kid, what is it?" he asks hesitantly.

"First off, stop calling me kid. I am eighteen," she explains, holding up a finger. "Second," she puts up another finger, "I want you to teach me something."

"That's not a question." She rolls her eyes at him and takes her feet off the desk.

"Will you teach me to give a blowjob?" Negan's eyebrows shoot up at the same time his eyes widen. She's dead serious too, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. Those same eyes drift from his down to the growing bulge in his gym shorts. She squeezes her thighs together and bites her lip.

"Darlin', you do know that what you're askin of me is wildly fuckin' inappropriate, right?" He's supposed to be serious, but the dimpled smirk on his face sends another message.

"You're supposed to be teaching sex ed, ain't ya?" she argues. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, only riling up the oversexed girl even more.

"Inappropriateness aside, you couldn't handle all this," he says, motioning to his growing boner.

A smug smile makes its way across her face. She gets out of his chair, kneels in front of it, and pats the cushion, silently demanding him to take a seat. He takes a peak at her cute little ass that her tiny gym shorts were barely doing anything to cover. He figures that if he gives in to her demands, she'll realize that she, in fact, cannot handle what he's packing and will back off. He didn't particularly want her to shy away from him, but her forward behavior would pose a threat to his job sooner or later and he's not eager to get fired.

Fuck it. He locks the door to his office and sits in his chair. She's looking up at him through her long lashes, excitement radiating off of her.

"Well, ya can't suck my fuckin' dick through my fuckin' shorts."

"Oh. Right!" Her shaky hands reach toward the waistband of his gym shorts and he lifts his hips so she can pull them down just enough to free his cock. She lets out a little gasp when the large member springs up and slaps his abdomen. For the first time, her seductive, siren-like facade starts to slip, revealing a nervous, inexperienced girl. With a smug smirk on his face, he looks down at her. She talked so much game, but when it came time to play, she didn't even know how.

"I...I asked you to teach me, didn't I?!" she squeaks. She's embarrassed at how dumb she's sure she looks and even more so at the fact Negan's getting a kick out of this.

"Spit in your hand, doll. Then stroke it a few times," he instructs. She apprehensively spits a glob of saliva into her palm before gently wrapping her hand around him. She's mesmerized by his size, so thick her fingers couldn't touch. As she shyly moves her hand up and down his shaft, she occasionally glances up at him in search for his approval. There is none. He's unamused as he watches her. His wraps his larger hand around her smaller one and squeezes it tighter around his dick.

"Gotta put more presser than that, sweetheart, 'cause I can't feel a damn thing."

She nods her head and he removes his hand, letting her try again on her own. With her hand wrapped more tightly around his cock, she can feel every ridge of his veins rubbing against her fingers. Negan lets out a seemingly satisfied sigh which encouraged her to go faster. Her mouth makes an 'o' shape when she sees precum leaking from his reddening tip. She impulsively brings her head down to him and experimentally kitten licks the precum, before taking the entire tip into her mouth. She looks up at him again, but he's already looking down at her with lust darkened eyes.

"Go on, baby, you can fit more of me in that sweet little mouth of yours," he taunts. She lowers her head until his tip makes contact with the back of her throat, but even then he's not all the way in. His thick, throbbing member fills her mouth, resting heavily on her tongue. With more confidence, she begins bobbing her head up and down. Negan's hand grips a handful of her hair and stops her.

"Don't use your teeth," he corrects her. She chokes a 'sorry,' out from around his cock, the vibration from it feeling good. In her effort to not use any teeth, she hollows her cheeks, the spongy flesh of their insides caressing Negan as she bobs her head. With the hand that's still gripping her hair, Negan forces her to go a little faster, but doesn't push her all the way down on his cock. She picks up the pace on her own, causing Negan's grip to relax.

"That's it, darlin', you're takin' my cock so fuckin' good right now." Her nails dig into his thighs as she continues despite the pain in her tired jaw. His praise sends a wave of heat directly to her core causing her neglected cunt to clench over nothing. But his praise wasn't enough. She wants to hear his pleasure, to hear him moan and come undone in her mouth. She forces the remaining inches of him down her throat, but she immediately regrets it when she gags around him. But she's already in too deep and wouldn't dare dream of quitting now.

"Holy fuckin' shit, doll!" he pleasurably groans, "you are a goddamn dick suckin' natural!" She can feel him twitch inside her mouth, a telltale sign that he's close. Her own cunt throbs, despite receiving no attention. Both of his hands grip her hair as his restraints come undone and begins fucking her face. Exasperated profanities and moans fall from his mouth as she takes him so well.

"Want me to cum inside your throat, doll?" He gets out between pants. She hums an 'mmm hmm' as she tries to move in time with his thrusts. His head falls back against the chair and eyes slightly roll back as his hips rut into her mouth, burying her nose in his dark curls. As he shoots his hot load into her mouth, a guttural moan claws its way out of his throat.

He pulls his softening dick from her mouth and tucks it back into his shorts. He leans down and grabs her jaw so he can admire her pretty, cock drunk face. The trails of dark mascara tears dried on her cheeks and her lips are slightly swollen and her hair is a mess. She looks perfect.

"Open," Negan commands. She opens her mouth, showcasing to Negan his cum resting on her tongue.

"Now swallow." She does and maintains eye contact with him the whole time.

"That's my good fuckin' girl," he praises, causing heat to spread on her cheeks and down to her pussy. She stands up, using the desk behind her as support. Her knees are slightly bruised, a delicious sight to Negan.

"Thanks for teaching me, Coach," she says, her tone slightly teasing.

"Yeah, alright. I gave you want you fuckin' wanted, so get outta my goddamn office." He means what he said, despite how playful he sounded.

"But wait," she says stepping closer to him. He raises an eyebrow in response as she grabs his hand and brings it close. She puts his large hand in between her legs, forcing him to feel how wet he made her. He looks up at her , his face morphing into a dark smirk.

"Don't you wanna return the favor, Coach?"

note and the answer is....present tense! i wrote this in present tense instead of my usual preferred past tense. thoughts?

[lunajay33]

Save a Horse🍂

Summary: Wandering around in the apocalypse was hell until you came across a a ranch, finding a injured horse you helped it finding the owner and things getting a little heated with an older cowboy

Pairing: Cowboy Negan Smith x f!reader

Warning: Age gap, reader is in 20s Negan is mid 40s, p in v, praise, virginity lose

Inspired by @lanadelnegan stories🤎

•Masterlist•

The apocalypse hit and everything happened so fast, I was with my family at our farm for some time watching the news, listening to the horror stories on the radio, we thought that we could go unscathed since we hadn’t been affected and that all the food and water we needed was on our land but all that changed one night when a hoard of walkers ran down our farm, my parents were first trying to fight of the walkers, quickly being ripped apart their screams still lingered in my head whenever I thought about them, then it was my two sisters trying to flee but got surrounded taking them down as well, I was lucky enough to get to my truck finding an opening in the walkers and driving away from my home, leaving me all alone on the road

Now it’s been 2 years going from place to place just trying to survive, to find a reason to keep living in this cruel world, I’ve been able to dodge as many walkers as I can, that wasn’t the main problem anymore, the food shortage was what dwindled my hope

My truck had broke down a while back so now I’ve just been wandering on foot, walking through the trees trying to get some shade from Georgia summer heat when I hear a groan and thud, I follow the direction of the whines on a left of what have might caused it, walkers, people, god knows what now a days

Rounding a tree I see a horse laying down on the ground, I approached slowly not wanting to spook it having experience with horses back on the farm, kneeling in front of it petting its soft black mane

“Hey girl, what are you doing out here all alone?” She didn’t look injured she was laying down fine, maybe she just got hot it was one of the hottest days I’ve ever lived in even in Georgia

I took out one of the bottles of water I found poring some of it over her face to help cool her down then poring the rest in a bowl I had in my bag and she was quick to drink it

After some time I stood up taking her lead rope trying to get her to stand up, I couldn’t leave her here all alone for some walkers to eat her alive maybe she came from somewhere near by

Walking through the trees she would occasionally change our course more like she was leading me than I was her until we got to a break in the trees, a ranch in perfect condition, a few horses grazing the field, little sheep’s hoping around, a chicken coop and a cozy little cabin like house right in the middle of the land, a brown bronco truck parked out front

Opening the gate, closing it behind me and the horse so the other animals wouldn’t get out like she did somehow, when a deep voice stopped me in my tracks

“See ya brought Missy back, been wondering where she went off to” coming down the porch steps was a older man, cowboy hat, white shirt, blue jeans and boots, maybe it was the lack of human contact or even interactions but damn was he fine, I didn’t realize he was right infront of me till he cleared his throat breaking me out of my oogling

“Oh yeah, I found her out in the woods she must had heat exhaustion so I gave her some water” my stomach feels like it’s in knots, I haven’t felt like this in so long, he’s said a few words and I’m entranced by him

“A nice and pretty girl might just have to keep ya around darling” he smirked making my knees weak, but I still have my values I’m not just going to jump his bones even though the urge is so strong

“Oh I mean if you’re able to take me in I’ll earn my keep, help around the farm, anything I just…..I can’t stay out there alone any longer” I said praying he’d give me a chance, some hope

“Ya sure you know what you’re doing around a farm?” He asked as he looked me up and down, lingering on my chest

“I grew up on a farm, I know what I’m doing”

“Hmmm well come on in, see where you can stay” I let Missy go so she could run off with the others, following him inside, it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, cute kitchen, wooden accents around the house, he kept walking down a hallways till he stopped at a room waiting for me to go in first, it was cozy, I don’t care if this place was trashy as long as I can be stress free and have someone to keep me company

“You like it?” He asked from the doorway

“I love it, thank you” I said as I sit on the bed letting out a long awaited sigh

“How long were you out there?”

“I don’t know time is hard to keep track of out there, maybe 2 years”

“Damn girl, 2 years did you atleast have someone out there?”

“My farm fell early taking my family with it when the walkers came, so it’s just been me until now”

He gave me a pitiful look it made the blood rush to my cheeks

“Come on darlin, supper should be done, should get some food in you” he said waving me out of the room and Im quick to follow him to the kitchen where I sit at the table as he dishes up some food, fresh food something I haven’t had in well forever it feels like

He sits across from me at the table taking his hat of showing his dark brown hair streaked with some grey, biting my lip to stop myself from fantasizing about running my hands through his hair, pulling on it as I feel his beard scratch against my legs

“So what’s your name darlin, like to call you something other than sweet names” he smirks obviously realizing my constant leering but he didn’t make it easy

“I’m fine with your little names but it’s y/n”

“You got a spark still considering how long you’ve been out there, how old are you even?”

“20 you?”

“Let’s just say I’m old enough to be your father”

“Not a problem for me” I said under my breath

A few weeks went by and I did what I said, working hard around the farm, waking up early to collect eggs from the chicken coop, feeding the horses and sheep, picking any ripe berries from the garden all before he was even up, no different from today, I laid berries on our plates and scrambled some eggs finishing right when he comes out of his room, scruffy hair, boxers and a black tank top showing off his tattoos, yes I earned my keep but the tension between us was growing stronger and stronger everyday, every touch, every long night of staying up talking I have to do something about it

“Morning Negan sleep well?” I asked as he sat across from me, our usual spots since that first day

“Great darlin, would’ve been better if you were next to me all night” he smirked, he’d do this tease me and act like it was nothing but it was something to me especially when I’d stay up late at night touching myself thinking of the things he’d say

“Negan you’re driving me crazy you know that” I said chomping on a strawberry

“You think I don’t hear you?”

“What?” My face flushed, please god don’t let it be what I think it is

“At night, when you think I’m fast asleep, I hear you moaning my name, whimpering when you can’t make yourself finish” he said his voice getting deeper as he leaned further across the table

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I gotta go……..go clean up the hay” I said flustered and completely embarrassed standing up and leaving the house to the barn

OH MY GOD this is so embarrassing, he’s heard me touch my self to him what is wrong with me, it’s only been a week and I can’t control myself, maybe because he’s everything I want, strong sexy makes my knees weak and panties wet, plus I have so much pent up sexual frustration, growing up on a farm and not being allowed to date led to me now, a horny 20 year old fantasizing about a man who generously gave me shelter and food, I’m a mess, a horny mess that wants to ride this man all day long

I get to the barn pitchforking any loose straw back into the pile trying to figure out what I’m suppose to do now, how do I face him again after he’s heard me moan his name

“I can hear your crazy thoughts from here darling” I look to the barn door seeing him dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots, his cowboy hat and a brown plaid

“I can’t take it anymore Negan, obviously you know that now, please just……..”

“Just what baby?” He asks his voice deeper again as he gets closer gripping my waist, his hands alone engulfing me

“Just touch me”

He leans down grabbing the back of my thighs lifting me to straddle his hips, my arms wrapped around his shoulders now face to face

“You sure you can handle this sweetheart?”

“I need it, I need you to fuck me please I’ve been so good” I say as he litters my neck with sloppy kisses

“You have, such a good girl for me, guess you deserve a big reward for that” he smirks as he squeezes my ass, laying my down in the hay pile

“Fuck you got me so hard, you know how hard it was to not bust into your room hearing your sweet moans just begging for me to plow this pussy?” He grips the bottom of my sundress hauling it off over my head leaving me in just my panties, my tits completely exposed

Hearing him groan as his hands roam my body, from my hips up my stomach to caress my tits rubbing his thumbs over them making my panties even more soaked

“That feels so good, doesn’t feel like this *fuck* when I try” I whimper my body feeling like it’s on fire

“No one ever make you feel good darling?” He says as he leaves kitten licks against my nipples feeling like lighting shooting from them to my clit, trying to grind against his thigh between my legs

“No, no one’s ever…..”

“No ones ever touched you, you’re a virgin?” He continues to suck hickeys down my stomach stopping at the hem of my panties

“Only you” I moan needing more

“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel good baby” he removed everything he’d wearing going to throw his hat in the pile of clothes but is top him

“Stop!……keep it on”

“You like cowboys? Wanna take a ride?” He smirks as he pulls down my panties leaving us both naked

“I mean I did save your horse, it’s only right to ride the cowboy” I say as I flip him over to straddle his hips, his dick standing big thick and prominent, he’s really gonna stretch me out good

“Oh ya it’s only right” he laughs squeezing my hips hard as he helps me move them back and forth grinding on his dick getting it wet

“I need it please”

“Take your time darling” he says as he lifts me up so I’m hovering right above him feeling his tip gently pushing against me

I slowly push down feeling the pressure and stretch, it hurt god it was way bigger than my two fingers

“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he grunts

“Is it…….is it all in, you’re so big I don’t know if I can take much more” I moan uncontrollably, all this sexual frustration finally breaking free

“Just a little more, come on be a good girl and take it” he helps push me down the rest of the way till I feel his skin flush against my clit

I sigh I relief that I got it all in but the sting isn’t pleasant

“Take your time cowgirl, wanna get you nice and stretched before you try and ride your cowboy” he laughs as he sits up kissing my neck again and rubbing my clit to help distract the pain

“God I can’t wait” I say gripping his shoulders as I start moving up and down, slowly at first feeling him deeper and deeper each time

“Fuck baby this pussy is gonna be the death of me” I take his hat putting it on holding it with one hand just like I would when riding a mechanical bull, bouncing and gyrating fast and harder and deeper feeling him hit that spot where it makes me see stars and screaming his name over and over as I feel that tension build up in my lower stomach

“Come on cowgirl, cum on my dick, make yourself cum, let it out” he says meeting my thrusts over and over driving even deeper

My hearing goes fuzzy feeling like my whole body is lit up with pleasure, it’s never felt this good before doing it by myself, soon feeling a warm liquid shoot up inside me, dripping down in between us making a sticky hot mess

Coming back down to earth from that mind blowing orgasm I feel his hands roaming up and down my back, his chest pressed against mine

“Did I do it right” I moan biting my lip slowly grinding on him

“Damn darling, that was the best fuck of my life, yeah you did it right, look great doing it to, could get us to this” he says laying back in the hay hands behind his head

I sat up feeling him slide out whining when he popped out his cum dripping onto the hay as I lean down against his chest

“I want more”

“Damn baby girl, they were right good girls really are the most frustrated”

We spent the rest of the day in the barn, him taking me in every position imaginable, everyone better than the last until we were exhausted and my pussy ached so good

“Glad you found my horse that day”

“Me too Negan”

I want this man desperately damn, I’m newish to writing this kind of story so if you got any tips lmk

[twdxtrevor]

I'm usually not the type to say this . . but I'd absolutely call him daddy -

[writella]

Screwed Up and Brilliant

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

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

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

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

—— LDR, Million Dollar Man

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

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

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

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

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

You still remember it well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Obviously, you did not.

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

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

And he did.

You made an impression.

Now you’ll pay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only Dwight hears this and sends him a warning glare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You almost felt embarrassed to answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I see they delivered my message.”

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

It was just him. There Negan finally was.

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

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

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

“But after Carl—“

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

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

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

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

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

This time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, you give him nothing.

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

“A lot has happened this week.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop,” he warns.

“You didn’t even let me see him.”

“He doesn’t notice you.”

“You don’t know us.”

“I know you.”

“You don’t know him.”

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

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

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

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

“Shut up.”

“And you killed Abraham—”

He warns you by name.

“And Glenn! Maggie’s husband—”

“SHUT. UP.”

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

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

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

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

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

“See? Told you, you were smart.”

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

“You have to get why.”

His voice remains eerily calm. “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

And you know you should get up.

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

You breathe into it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head small and slowly. No.

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

He felt like a rich man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All you can do is whine incoherently.

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

“Negan,” you whine again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

His teeth sparkle, “Only me.”

“Only you, daddy.”

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

“Yes, daddy. So good.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think it does.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Negan,” you say weakly.

“Yes,” he responds intently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about now?”

“Now?” He asks. He didn’t think about it. He assumed you would want to go after this, after you got what you wanted. “Well,” he turns to his nightstand, “right now it’s half past 10.” He stares at you for a moment, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. This whole moment has felt so quiet, both eerie and gentle. You still weren’t used to the latter from him, even after what just happened. “You can go if you want. Sleep in your bed for one more night, or…” he stops, “You can stay with me, if you’d like.” His sigh is short and whispered but you both hear it, you feel its weight. “It’s your choice.”

You stare at each other for a moment. Your eyes trail all of his face and the arm that is still holding your own, adorned with all the tattoos and skin you had just fallen for. You wanted to study them and hold onto him forever. And his eyes: they said so much— there were so many little inflections, ones that you had finally read, and so many others you’ve yet to decipher. You desired to know him, but you had to go, so all you decided to do was to hold him. For now, you chose to stay, and hoped that your embrace would transfer the fact that the only reason it would be hard to leave is because of him and only him. You would remember this forever. “8 hours till 8.”

“8 hours till 8, kid.”

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

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

He had to finally accept it.

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

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

You won.

He lost.

But both your hearts broke.

[janiehellion]

The Fine Line

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: He's everything you should fear, yet somehow everything you crave. One night. One decision. And no turning back.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: NEGAN SMITH X VIRGIN!FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: AGE GAP / LOSS OF VIRGINITY / SMUT / LANGUAGE / ANGST / CUNNILINGUS / UNPROTECTED P-IN-V SEX / POSSIBLE GRAMMATICAL ERROS

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.975

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @severesandwichparadise

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: It's been way too long since I’ve written anything about Negan—who makes a heart race and the thoughts dirty. This one’s been a long time coming, and I really hope you like it.

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You hadn’t seen him before, not like this. The way he walked into Alexandria, like he owned the place with that grin that made you gulp in a way you hated to admit. Negan. The man who’d haunted your nightmares, the man who had killed Glenn, Abraham—friends who mattered. You had heard of it, of course. Everyone had—the infamous Negan—the man who controlled the Saviors.

And he didn’t come alone. Of course, he didn’t. His Saviors stood right behind him, all armed and ready to kill whenever he told them to.

Rick was already waiting near the gate of Alexandria, looking more than just nervous while trying to act like he wasn’t following Negan’s orders. But you could see it in his eyes—the way his body was tense like he was trying to remember how to breathe around this man who had broken him several times by now.

And that was it. The first time you laid eyes on Negan.

He went over to Rick immediately while the rest of the group watched silently, and you couldn’t help but watch too, unable to look away.

"Negan," Rick greeted, in a way like he was trying to hold on to some dignity. "What do you want this time?"

"Oh, Rick, Rick, Rick," Negan said, clicking his tongue. "Always so goddamn polite." He let out a laugh, stepping toward him. "I’m here for my shit, as usual. You know how it goes. Supplies, gas, and food. Everything you can manage. And you sure as shit can manage that, right?"

Negan looked around then, his eyes looking over the rest of the group. He seemed amused as he watched the faces, and when he caught your eye, you felt it. That feeling. That weird moment where it felt like the entire community was watching. It was short, but it was enough to make your heart race.

And then he was back to Rick, giving him a pat on the shoulder that made him visibly flinch.

"You’ve done well, Rick," Negan said as if Rick were some dog that had finally learned to roll over. "Now, if you’ve got any more of my stuff, we can end this real quick, and I’ll be on my way. You sure as shit don’t mind a little bonus, do you?"

You hated the way Rick flinched and how he didn’t say anything. He just nodded.

Then Negan’s eyes were back on you, and this time he didn’t look away, while that grin of his turned into something a little less mocking and a little more… calculating. There was something about the way he looked at you—like he was trying to figure you out, or maybe just taking his time with the show.

He straightened up fast, pushing Rick aside as he moved closer to you. "What’s your name, sweetheart?"

"None of your damn business," you shot back, unable to stop the hate in your voice.

Negan raised an eyebrow, amused. "So aggressive… I like that. But you’re still not going to tell me, young lady?"

You didn’t answer.

With a final smirk, Negan turned his attention back to Rick, shaking his head as he moved on to collect his supplies.

"Now, Rick, I’m going to need some more supplies, or we’re going to have a problem. And you don’t want that."

You stood there, watching. And it wasn’t just Negan’s words that stuck with you—it was the way he had looked at you. That quick second where you felt something. Something dangerous.

Negan Smith sure as hell was trouble—the kind you didn’t need, but the kind of trouble you wanted to know more about.

Over the next few weeks, you couldn’t avoid him. No matter how hard you tried to stick to your routine or slip away from Alexandria, Negan always seemed to cross your path.

It started small—little things, like looking into his eyes again. It wasn’t just the way he looked back at you; it was the way he began to size you up—like he knew you inside out. He wasn’t just playing with you—at least not in the way you thought. He seemed interested.

You’d be working with the others, repairing gear, or doing your usual chores, and he’d just appear, like some bad dream, some nightmare that wouldn’t leave.

"Well, well, look who it is," he’d said, standing a little too close. "What’s it like, huh? Living in this boring-ass little town?"

"Don’t you have something else to do, Negan?" You didn’t even try to hide the annoyance and the irritation in your voice. But you hated how easily he made your heart race, how every word out of his mouth felt like a game, one that you weren’t sure you wanted to play.

"Oh, I do have something to do," he said, smirking at you. "But I can always make time for you." He leaned in, just enough to make you feel trapped.

You stiffened, swallowing back the urge to snap at him and tell him to go fuck himself. But before you could say anything, one of the Saviors—Simon, you thought—approached.

"Negan," Simon called out. "We’ve got the supplies loaded. We're ready to go!"

Negan looked over his shoulder, nodding slowly. "Alright." Then, with a wink, he'd turned back to you and said, "I’ll catch you later, sweetheart."

The next few times he showed up were no different. You’d be working or standing around with some of the others, and you’d feel his eyes on you, always there—always on you. Every time you caught him, it was as if he was trying to break you open, piece by piece.

And he wasn’t afraid to cross the line. Not once.

"Hey, doll," Negan called out one afternoon when you were walking toward his truck, your arms full of supplies. "You know, Rick’s got himself a real tough girl on his hands. Bet he doesn’t know how to handle someone like you. Or does he handle you quite well?"

You could feel the heat in your face, your cheeks turning red just a little. You knew what he was doing—trying to get under your skin, trying to make you react. But the more he did it, the more you found yourself struggling to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even when you told yourself to stay cool and not let him get to you, it was somehow impossible.

"Keep it up, Negan," you shot back. "I’m not impressed. Try harder."

Negan’s grin only widened. "Oh, but I sure as hell think you are. Why, do you like it hard?"

But before you could answer him, a voice cut you off.

"Hey!" Rick shouted from a few feet away. "Leave her alone!"

Negan looked at him, laughing out loud. "Oh, Rick, Rick, Rick," he said, shaking his head, still eyeing you. "Don’t worry, your little girl here can take it. And she likes it hard. I can tell."

Rick stepped forward, but Simon and the other Saviors moved in quickly, creating a barrier between the both of them. It was a warning to everyone: stay in your place.

"Fuck off, Negan," you whispered, trying to push past him, but he didn't let you.

He stepped in front of you, blocking your path. "Oh, I will. But first, tell me something, doll," he said, leaning in close. "How about you stop pretending you don’t like the attention?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because the truth—that truth—was something you didn’t want to admit.

Not yet.

You didn’t have time to process it. Rick was already pulling you aside, his face looking angry.

"Listen," he growled, gripping your arm a little too tightly, which made you wince. "You need to keep your fucking distance from him. I’ve warned you about Negan, about the Saviors. Told you what they did, what he did."

"I can handle myself just fine," you snapped back, ripping your arm free from his grip.

Rick’s eyes narrowed. "You’re not seeing things clearly. He’s a monster. Don’t let him get in your head, alright?"

You scoffed, shaking your head. "I’m not some helpless little girl, Rick. I might still be young in your eyes, but you don’t need to babysit me. I'm not a damn child! Not anymore!"

"You think I’m babysitting you?" Rick hissed. "I’m trying to keep you safe, trying to keep all of us safe. You can’t fuck around with him, and you sure as hell can’t challenge him like that in front of the rest of the Saviors. Do you know what you’re doing? It’s dangerous."

Dangerous? The thought was gnawing at you. You hadn’t challenged Negan—at least, you didn’t think you had.

The days passed again after Negan’s last visit, and you found yourself constantly wondering when he’d show up again, what he’d say, and what he’d do. You told yourself you hated him—what he represented, the way he treated Rick and the others in your group—but the truth was you couldn’t deny that he made you feel something.

Then it happened again. Negan rolled into Alexandria, and you were standing off to the side, as usual, trying to stay out of his way, but your eyes couldn’t help but follow him.

Then, everything went to shit.

Carl soon was on his knees, Lucille raised high above his head. The sudden sound of the bat against the ground sent a shiver down your spine. Rick was scared, just like the others—defeated, sobbing, begging.

"Do you see what happens when you don’t follow the damn rules, Rick?" Negan's voice was cold. "Your little boy here gets a taste of what happens when his Daddy doesn’t play nice and doesn't give me what is mine."

You clenched your fists, your body trembling. Rick was a wreck, barely holding it together as he watched his son kneel in front of Negan like a lamb ready for slaughter.

"Please," Rick whispered as he tried to reason, "just… just let him go. I’ll do anything. Just don’t kill him! I swear, there must've been a misunderstanding while loading up the supplies the last time! We gave you everything we could! I promise!"

"Excuses… excuses. Bullshit. I warned you to not fuck with me. Do not make me tell you twice, Rick. You know I’m going to do it if you don’t get me what I want. Now, what’s it going to be? I could end this little bastard right here, right now."

Rick’s face was pale, his eyes all red and swollen, and Negan smiled, loving every second of it. "You’ll do anything, huh? Well, I’ve got an idea. Now, you see, I can’t kill this little piece of shit—not yet. That’d be too easy. But I could take something else from you. I’ll let him go… but I need her."

Everything inside you froze as he pointed Lucille straight at you.

But you didn’t hesitate, not because you wanted to go with him, but because you knew—if you didn’t—Carl was dead.

"Fine. Take me." It somehow was the hardest thing you’d ever said. You hated that you had to do it, but for Carl’s life, for Rick’s sake, and everyone else, there was no other choice.

Rick's words died in his throat as he tried to keep it together. "No, no, no, no, you don’t have to—"

"I do," you interrupted, stepping forward. You wouldn’t let the Saviors take Carl’s life. "I’ll go with him."

Negan’s grin widened as he nodded, and without another word, he pulled you toward him and he began leading you to the truck. You could hear Rick’s desperate voice calling after you, but it didn’t matter anymore. This was happening.

The ride to the Sanctuary felt endless. Your mind was spinning with a dozen thoughts, none of them making sense. Once you got inside the Sanctuary, the Saviors separated you from the rest of Negan’s people, and you were brought to a small, actually cozy room.

You just stood there, trying to gather your thoughts. You couldn’t look at him—Negan—who had just played with a life like a prize.

Meanwhile, he was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. "This is one hell of a nice room, huh? I thought you’d appreciate it. After all, you’re a guest now."

"I’m not your fucking guest," you snapped, finally looking at him, unable to keep the anger at bay. "You think this is some kind of joke? You’re the reason I’m here! You’re the one that made me choose between Carl’s life and my fucking dignity!"

Negan didn’t flinch. He just stared at you. "No, no. You’re here because you made the right choice. You chose life. You chose Carl’s life. And that’s what I like about you."

You stepped forward, fists clenched, heart racing in your chest. "You’re a monster. And you—you just walk around like you own every single person that crosses your way like you have the right to decide who lives and who dies!"

Negan pushed himself off the doorframe. "You think I like doing that?" His voice was colder now, but still, he seemed strangely calm. "You think I enjoy seeing my people get hurt? To watch my people die? No. I do what I gotta do. And what I did? Hell, ask Ricky-boy about the real reason why I… attacked. This world doesn’t give a damn about feelings, doll. It’s survival."

"It’s not survival to make people suffer, Negan. It’s not."

There was a pause, a long one, where Negan looked at you again, his jaw tightening as though he were processing something.

And then, before you could say another word, his lips were on yours, pressing against you and leaving you breathless. You froze, shocked, but his kiss wasn’t hard or punishing like everything else about him—it was tender, almost gentle, even though you could feel the force of it.

When he pulled back, he let out a soft sigh and turned, walking toward the door again. "You’re still not ready for the real world as it is now, even though you've survived it since the beginning," he said, more to himself than you. "But I think you will be."

Soon enough, it again had been a few days since you were brought to the Sanctuary, and each day felt like an eternity. The walls seemed to close in, and inside of them were shadows of people who whispered their secrets when they were alone.

You had the room to yourself, which you hated and appreciated at the same time. At least you weren’t forced to be together with the rest of the Saviors—most of whom still looked at you like you were some sort of prize to be claimed.

Negan had kept his distance after that kiss, which left you feeling like you were constantly on the edge of something threatening. You felt how your body betrayed you, how every time you heard his voice or saw his grin, something inside you changed. It was fucked up, and you knew it.

You were pacing in your room one late evening, trying to get your mind off the curiosity and disgust you felt when you heard a quick knock at your door. Quiet, but loud enough for you to notice. You opened it cautiously, only to see Dwight standing there.

"Hey," he said quietly, almost a little too nervous. "I… uh, just wanted to thank you."

You blinked at him, confused. "Thank me for what? What are you talking about?"

"For doing what you did. For agreeing to stay here. For… for keeping Negan off our backs."

You still didn’t know what he was talking about. "What the hell are you thanking me for, Dwight?" You asked, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

He let out a slow breath, his eyes looking down to the floor. "For the women," he whispered. "Negan’s been leaving them alone ever since you… Well, ever since you caught his interest, I'd say."

You’d been hearing rumors of the women, those who lived in the Sanctuary with Negan as his wives, but you hadn’t understood how deep it went. "What do you mean… leaving them alone?"

Dwight’s eyes met yours again. "The women… his wives," he said. "He hasn’t touched any of them since he saw you."

Your mind struggled to process it. "You’re telling me there’s a bunch of women just waiting around for him?"

"It’s not like that. Not anymore. He used to call on them whenever he wanted to—" He continued, but trailed off. "When he saw you, he stopped. He hasn’t touched any of them since, and I… we just wanted to thank you for that."

You were quiet for a long moment, his words sinking in. Your mind wandered to those women. It wasn’t disgust you felt—it was a strange kind of curiosity, the kind of curiosity you couldn’t ignore. He hadn’t touched them, but why? What did that mean for you? What was it about you that made him stop?

But you didn’t say any of that to Dwight. You just stood there and didn’t ask him about the women or what they’d gone through.

Instead, you looked at him and said quietly, "You don’t need to thank me."

Dwight stared at you, and then he finally nodded. "Well, I do. And I’m not blind, and I know that, as fucked up as this place is, it’s better for them. Better for her… Even if you don’t want to hear it."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the Sanctuary. You shut the door slowly, your mind racing. You couldn’t get the thought of the women out of your head. And you sure as hell couldn’t stop wondering what would happen to you now that you were here.

In this place, with him.

You didn’t know. But the question—oh, it burned itself into your mind.

It was confusing. On one hand, you knew Negan was a monster. And yet, here you were. You were drawn to him, to the dangerous pull he had over you.

You tried to push it all away; you tried to tell yourself you were just looking for a way to survive. You weren’t one of those women. You wouldn’t be. He wasn’t going to control you like that.

But still, there was that pull. The way his eyes watched you when he thought no one else was looking, the way his voice changed when he spoke near you.

You were now sitting on your bed, head spinning, when you heard the familiar footsteps outside your door. You didn’t have to look to know it was him. That presence—his presence—it was unmistakable.

He knocked once, hard and loud, before pushing the door open, his grin already in place.

"Well, well," he said. "I see you’ve been keeping yourself busy by talking to Dwight."

You didn’t speak right away; your eyes were staring at him, fighting the need to look down. "I’m not interested in small talk, Negan, and not in an interrogation either," you shot back.

"Of course you’re not." He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyeing you like he was taking inventory. "You know, you can talk to me in a normal way, right? My attention's all on you right now, doll, but your attention isn't on me."

You scoffed, trying to hide the blush on your face. "Normal? Right. Why don't you go and beg for attention elsewhere?"

"Because I don’t beg."

Negan didn’t seem to care about any response. Slowly, he moved into the room, stepping closer, making you instinctively slide back on your bed, though there was no escape, so you stood up, standing in front of him.

"You know," he said quietly, now looking down at you. "I’ve been thinking about you. A lot."

You swallowed hard, your throat dry, unable to find the words to answer. He was so close now… You could smell him—sweat, leather—and something else you couldn’t quite place.

"I’m not gonna lie to you," he continued. "I don’t wanna fuck this up."

"And I don’t want you to want me," you said before you could stop yourself.

He laughed in response as if he enjoyed seeing you stumble over your own words. "Then why the fuck are you standing so goddamn fucking close to me, huh?"

You didn’t have an answer for that.

You wanted him, but you were scared. Scared of the person he was. Scared of being another name on his list. But you couldn’t deny it. Your body, your mind—they craved him. It was like a hunger you couldn’t ignore.

"Maybe that’s why I’m here," you whispered, looking up at him. "Maybe I’m only curious."

"Curious, huh?" His fingers moved slowly up your arm. "Curious about what, exactly?"

You took a shaky breath, fighting the urge to close the space between the two of you. "About what it’d be like."

His smile disappeared, and for a moment, it seemed like he was holding his breath. Then, without a second thought, he stepped back. "I think that’s a conversation for another time."

You didn’t even think; the words just came out. "What is this even to you?" You growled, watching his smirk come back as he leaned against the wall with that irritating look of his. "So what if I haven't… I mean, since the world ended, I haven’t been with anyone. I mean, before it all went down neither, but… Just… Not once, okay. But, I mean—"

That caught his attention, though he tried to hide it. He raised an eyebrow, and for once, he looked like he might take you seriously.

"Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me," he started, "that in all this time, you haven’t felt the need to… fuck?"

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you shot back, "Why do you even care, Negan? You've got your… supply of it at all times, don't you?" The words came out more bitter than you’d meant, but you were fed up.

Negan blinked several times, looking thrown off. But it only lasted a second, though this time his usual grin looked more like a mask. "Well, that’s the damn thing, doll. Haven’t been with any of them, not in a while. Guess I had my eye on something else."

"While I don’t know what I want," you suddenly whispered. "I don’t even know if I should want this—with you. I feel horrible. Fucking horrible."

One of his hands came up, fingers brushing along your jaw and down your neck. "Shit, I get it," he said. "But this isn’t some game, alright? You want this? I’m going to give it to you. But if you’re not all in, you better tell me right fucking now."

"Yes, I… I'm sure."

He watched you carefully. "You sure, sweetheart? Not just saying it 'cause you think it’s what I wanna hear?"

"No, I’m sure."

"Alright," he mumbled. "Then we do this slowly. No rushing, no stupid bullshit."

You finally leaned forward, your lips pressing against his in a kiss that was soft at first, hesitant. But then his arms wrapped around you, and the kiss turned rougher as he pulled you closer, hands now moving down your back, pulling you against him while kicking the door of your room shut.

"Hell," he breathed against your lips, "didn’t realize you’d be this damn sweet."

His fingers moved to the hem of your shirt as he broke the kiss. "Last chance to change your mind, darling," he whispered, though, with a bit of restraint. But you shook your head, pulling him closer again, your teeth biting his neck, feeling the shiver that went through him.

Negan let out a growl, and his hands moved quickly under your shirt. "Been wanting to touch you like this for some time now."

You could see him smile—that provocative, arrogant grin that only made you want him more. His hands soon moved to your pants and undid them teasingly, drawing it out until you were almost trembling.

He took his time, his knuckles pressing against your hips as he slid the waistband of your pants down, along with your panties. You swallowed hard, but it wasn’t from fear. It was pure lust—the way he made you feel like the most important thing in the world just by looking at you.

"Relax," he whispered, "I’m not in any damn hurry."

You closed your eyes, letting yourself fall into the moment, letting yourself get lost in the touch of his hands, his lips, and the way he held you like you were something precious, something worth cherishing. You’d expected roughness, maybe even cruelty, but this—this was different.

"You… you’re being so… gentle."

Negan froze. "Of course I am. Why? This isn’t just about me, you know. I want this to feel good for us—for you. Just trust me," he mumbled as he pulled your shirt over your head and undid your bra. "Damn, look at you…"

Heat rushed to your face, and you ducked your head, only for him to gently lift your chin. "Don’t hide from me," he said softly. "Let me see you, all of you."

Negan's hands moved to your tits, his fingers brushing over your nipples until they hardened under his touch, before he leaned down, his mouth following where his hands had been. "Now, just tell me if anything is too much, alright?"

You nodded breathlessly, and he rewarded you with his lips sucking on your nipple, his hand quickly finding its way between your thighs, fingers moving over your clit, rubbing softly until your hips bucked, wanting more.

Somehow, you managed to push one of your hands down between you both, squeezing his cock through his pants. He let out a groan, but you felt clumsy, even unsure, and fumbling a bit as you tried to stroke him the way you thought he’d like.

He laughed a little, grabbing your hand with his own. "Slow down, sweetheart," he said, grinning as he helped you to open up his pants and let them fall with his boxers. "Take your damn time."

But even though you felt uncertain, Negan's reaction told you that you were doing something right, his breathing stopping from time to time and his hands grabbing you harder as you continued. His groan was almost a growl as he finally stepped out of his pants, quickly getting rid of his shirt before pulling you up and pushing you down onto your bed.

"Think you’re ready for this? Might hurt a little, but that's nothing to worry about. Just tell me if you feel uncomfortable, okay?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he lined himself up with your pussy, one hand steadying you while the other was pushing his cock inside you.

The stretch was intense, your body trying to adjust to him, and he paused every inch or so, letting you get used to the feel of his cock, making sure you weren’t in any pain. As he pushed further, his other hand found yours, both your fingers intertwining to keep you from getting lost in the slightly uncomfortable pressure at first.

"You’re alright, sweetheart. Just breathe," he mumbled, kissing your cheek, waiting until you gave him a signal to keep going.

Negan’s forehead rested against yours as he pushed further inside. "You’re doing so well for me. So damn good."

Each inch he gave you felt thicker, the pressure hard but not painful. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I’m good."

"That's a good girl," he whispered. "Let me know if it’s too much, and I’ll stop. I mean it."

Finally, he was fully inside, filling you up in a way that felt overwhelming—almost too much.

But Negan didn’t move right away. He stayed there, deep inside you, as you both caught your breath. His free hand moved down, sliding up your thigh as if to calm you. "You’re taking me so damn good, doll. Feels like you were made for me."

You tightened your legs around his hips, clinging to him as if letting go would somehow destroy the magic of the moment.

"How’s that feel, huh?" he asked as he started to move. "Don’t hold back, baby. I wanna hear you. Bet it feels so fucking good."

Between moans, your free hand found his shoulder, nails scratching his skin as you held on. You could feel how he was holding himself back from losing control, but now and then, a loud groan slipped out, followed by a deeper and quicker thrust.

You swallowed hard, your voice trembling. "It’s—oh fuck—it’s so good, Negan!"

That was all he wanted to hear from you. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he growled, starting to rub slow circles over your clit.

And the feeling of his cock, the fullness, was maddening, each faster thrust of him making you hold harder onto him.

Tears started to appear in your eyes, but not from pain. Negan noticed immediately as he untangled his hand from yours and cupped your cheek. "Hey, hey… You okay? Tell me if this is too much."

You shook your head quickly, blinking back the tears. "It’s not that—it’s just… I didn’t know it could feel like this."

"But you deserve this," he said quietly. "Deserve to be treated right. To be fucked right."

And it didn't take long until a new, even stranger pressure built itself inside you—something new but irresistible like you were on the edge of something intense, or maybe even embarrassing, but you couldn’t reach it, and he didn't let you.

You rolled your hips against him, searching for more—the need for something harder, something faster. Both your hands now gripped his shoulders tightly while you whimpered in frustration.

"Negan… more," you begged with urgency, only to make him stop.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. "Oh, you want more, huh?" He asked, teasing you.

You nodded, arching your back to meet his next thrust. "Please," you gasped, your thighs tightening around his hips as you tried to pull him deeper.

"Easy, sweetheart," he said, his hands gripping your hips firmly, pushing you back down. "You’ll get what you need, but you’re gonna take it slow."

He thrust into you again, painfully slow, his cock pushing against your sensitive spot inside you. You tried again to lift your hips, but his grip tightened, holding you still and him thrusting harder.

"You feel that?" He growled. "How good I make you feel when you let me take my time?"

"Negan, I think… I think I need to… pee." You could barely get the words out, too caught up in the feeling and your sudden shame, until you felt like you might burst.

"You think you need to piss? Nah, that’s just me fuckin’ you so goddamn good."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but the overwhelming feeling between your legs pushed it away.

"Let it go, baby. Let me make you lose it." As if on cue, he thrust faster, burying himself in your pussy just right, over and over again, until your whole body stiffened. "That’s it," Negan groaned, watching with fascination. "Fucking perfect."

Suddenly, without warning, your pussy clenched tightly around his cock as you came, your entire body trembling.

"Oh… yes, yes, yes!" You moaned out loud, your nails scratching down his whole back and grabbing his ass, trying to push him deeper again. "That feels so fucking good! Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't—"

Negan ate your moans and whimpers up like a man starved. "Goddamn, baby, next time you're gonna be squirting all over me," he groaned, not slowing down. "Could feel you coming like this all the time."

It was like everything went black, your orgasm shooting so intensely through you in a way that left you breathless, with you clinging so tightly to him as your body shuddered, moaning his name in pure need.

Watching you come so hard around him had done something to Negan, something he wasn’t expecting so fast. That look on your face, the way your body was shaking, the way you’d gasped his name—hell, he wanted to keep that image burned into his mind forever.

He slowed his movements just enough to not come too soon. His eyes never left your face, watching you ride out your orgasm, writhing against him and wanting more, given that blissed-out expression on your face. He was right there, on the edge himself, and for another moment, he let himself get lost in the way you squirmed, all desperate, a sight simply too good for words.

Just before Negan came, he quickly pulled out, but your hand grabbed his wrist. "Negan, please," you begged, your thighs trembling as you reached for him. "I want you to come inside me."

He froze, staring down at you in disbelief. "Fuck, doll," he said, his hand stroking his cock as he positioned himself over you. "Believe me, I sure as hell would."

"Then do it," you demanded as your hips moved toward him, trying to push him back inside.

But Negan shook his head, his grin returning as he leaned down, his lips kissing yours. "Not gonna happen. Can’t let you get knocked up… just yet."

He was squeezing his cock and pumping a few more strokes until he finally exploded, his cum shooting all over your stomach and tits. It was everything he loved about moments like this. The sight of you, the feeling of his cock pulsing in his hand and marking you with his load… everything.

"Shit... You know, that might just be my new favorite view," he soon smirked, letting out a shaky laugh.

You blushed, suddenly very aware of his cum all over you and the ache that you still felt between your legs.

You were sprawled out on the bed, your body still trembling, your legs twitching slightly as if they couldn’t handle the sudden emptiness.

"Fuckin’ hell," he continued, as he now knelt at the edge of the bed, his hands spreading your thighs apart again. "Look at this, sweetheart. Look at how bad your pussy still wants me."

Before you could process what was happening, he leaned in, his tongue licking over your oversensitive clit. You screamed, and Negan’s strong hands pinned you down as his mouth tasted you, his tongue teasing you like he had all the time in the world.

"Negan—fuck, it’s too much," you whined, trying to squirm away, but his grip tightened.

"Nah, sweetheart," he growled, pulling back just long enough to smirk up at you. "You can take it."

His tongue moved lower, teasing your folds, and when he finally slid it inside, you let out a loud cry. He groaned against you as he took his time tasting you and eating you out, his nose bumping against your clit.

It didn’t take long before you were coming again as you sobbed his name, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer even as your body begged for a break.

When he finally pulled away, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smirked at you. "Hell, I think you’re my new favorite meal. You look like a goddamn masterpiece."

You groaned, half-embarrassed, half-needy, and gave him a weak push on the chest with one leg. "Well, don’t just sit there and stare."

"Bossy already, huh?" He laughed, shaking his head as he stood up. He yanked open one of the drawers, rummaging through until he found an old rag.

"Hold still, sweetheart," he said, kneeling back over you and wiping away the cum. "Can’t have you goin’ around lookin’ like that. Might make people think I’ve got myself a favorite," he winked, his grin looking just a tiny bit arrogant.

But as he leaned over you, moving the rag over tits and cleaning them, his thumb brushed over one of your nipples, and you let out a soft moan.

Negan just smiled. "Guess I did a damn good job."

Before you could respond, his lips sucked on the same nipple he’d just touched. He sucked gently, his tongue switching from one to the other, squeezing and massaging your tits.

"Can’t help myself, darling. These tits deserve some extra love."

Once he was done, he tossed the rag aside, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, his mouth all tender against your skin.

"You did so good. Real damn good,” he whispered like he wanted you to feel every word as he moved next to you again, putting an arm around you and pulling you close against him.

You let out a sigh, the exhaustion quickly starting to catch up to you as you cuddled up to him, feeling safe, even here, even with him. "I… didn't bleed down there, right? Or did I?"

"No, you didn't; don't worry. Not every woman does. But don’t you go getting used to this," he teased. "Next time, I’ll just have to make sure I don’t leave you so damn worn out. Can’t have you fallin’ asleep on me every time."

You mumbled something he couldn't make out, half asleep already, but he just held you tighter.

"Alright, alright, get some sleep then, sweetheart," he whispered, his hand brushing through your hair. "I’ll be right here, don’t you worry. Just sleep. That was your first time, after all."

And you did, soon drifting off, strangely feeling safer than you had in a long time, to the sound of his heartbeat that stayed with you even as you slipped into sleep.

But the next morning slammed into you like a brick to the face. Your eyes blinked open to the sight of Negan’s chest and the scratch of his beard against you. The rest of the day before came back quick—too quick—every moment of his hands on your body, his mouth… him so deep inside of you.

You flinched away, heart racing as you pushed yourself out and away from under his arm. Every bit of you wanted to scream with shame and anger. This was Negan—the man who’d terrorized everyone you cared about, and here you were with him, completely naked.

You grabbed the first thing you could reach—a glass on the nightstand—and threw it at the wall. A pillow went flying, then a chair.

You saw him waking up, but you couldn’t stop. It was a need—this craving to let it all out. That man had you wrapped around his finger without you even realizing it—and now you wanted out. It was impossible, but right now, nothing was making sense; nothing felt real. And you were scared.

"Hey, hey, calm the hell down, would you?" Negan’s voice came from behind you. You ignored him, anger rising again as you grabbed for anything else you could throw, maybe even at him.

"Get away from me!" You snapped, turning to look at him, fists clenched at your sides. "I can't—you're… This is all so fucked, Negan! Do you even get that?" You shoved him back, but he grabbed your wrists tightly.

"Oh, I get it, alright," he smirked, his grin widening as he held your wrists. "Seems like someone’s a little sore, huh? Confused, even?"

"Let go of me!" You struggled, trying to move away, but he didn’t let go. The more you fought, the tighter he grabbed, his eyes watching you with amusement.

"Think I’m going to let you throw shit around and just walk away?" He asked, pulling you closer.

"Negan, let me go!" You shouted again, your voice cracking as he turned you around, holding you close against his chest from behind, both of his arms wrapping around your body. You tried to fight, legs kicking, elbows shoving, but it was no use.

"Keep fighting, doll. You’re just making this more fun."

He pressed his mouth against your neck, kissing and biting down just enough to make you moan for him. It only made you angrier and more desperate to get away, but he held on to keep you exactly where he wanted.

"Why are you doing this?" You hissed, still struggling, but your strength was fading. "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" He loosened his hold just enough to spin you around to face him again, one hand keeping you close, the other tilting up your chin softly. "Shit, maybe I just like the way how sexy you look when you’re all riled up and pissed."

Adrenaline was still rushing through you, but now it was also confusion—and a feeling you could hardly even name. But you knew better. You just didn't want to acknowledge it.

And as Negan finally let go of you, letting you step back, neither of you spoke. You couldn't look at him as he took his sweet time reaching for his clothes across the floor. He didn’t seem the slightest bit worried by your outburst, your fury, or any of it. He just slid on his pants, putting on his shirt, and the leather jacket slung over one shoulder as he walked back to you.

And he stopped right in front of you, tilting his head with a smirk that now seemed almost cruel like he knew exactly what you were going through.

"You see, there’s a certain fine line, baby," he whispered, his voice sounding like gravel against silk. He leaned in close, his breath touching your ear. "Between everything we thought we hated… and everything we can’t seem to stop craving."

Then, just as casually as he’d fucked you, he moved his lips to yours, teasing you with a kiss and watching your reaction closely before pulling back, letting you stand there while he grabbed Lucille from the ground.

Negan wasn't looking back at you as he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and the fine line he’d just cut straight through you.

[rickgrimesfever]

Negan Smith Headcanons

Synopsis: Negan Smith headcanons, SFW and NSFW. Negan Smith x female reader.

SFW:

His favorite nickname for you is doll.

Most definitely has a soft spot for you.

Negan is an absolute tease and will tease you for just about anything. The way you look at him, talk, or even walk.

In private, he can be a big teddy bear.

When you need comfort, Negan's there with open arms and a chest to rest your head on.

He'll comb his fingers through your hair and whisper sweet words that make your body tingle.

Obviously, he's very possessive of you.

You're always by his side, an arm snaked around your waist and a hand resting on your back.

He hates putting you in danger or letting you see the bad side of him, so he demands that you stay in your shared room.

If one of the Saviors even looks at you wrong, they are severely punished or even killed sometimes.

Negan only has a sweet spot for you and it warms your heart.

His kisses are rough and passionate.

His hands are grabbing at your hips, his beard tickling your face.

He'll never admit to himself that he's in love with you, not until you face a near death experience at least.

You can convince Negan to have mercy and only you can do it.

He trusts you and will explain all of his plans to you, hoping to impress you even just a little bit.

NSFW:

Be prepared for the best sex of your life.

Negan likes to crack jokes during the act to make you more comfortable.

He's actually very sweet during sex as he's pounding into you from behind.

Negan likes to be rough with you, but will always stop and tone it down if you ask.

There are times when he's had a bad time and dirty things are spewing from his mouth.

He'll degrade you and even slap your ass, earning a whimper from you.

Negan's eyes roll into the back of his head when you get down on his knees and start sucking on his cock.

He definitely grabs your head and bucks his hips, shoving his cock deeper into your mouth.

He'll say how pretty you look with your lips wrapped around his length.

He loves to overstimulate you, seeing how many times he can make you cum in a row.

Negan loves doggy and watching your ass jiggle as he thrusts into your sore pussy.

He's also really into choking, knowing that he has control over your pulse.

You definitely have to come up with a safe word though.

He's surprisingly good at aftercare.

He will bring you a glass of water after and makes sure you drink it.

He makes sure you're okay and will massage your sore thighs.

Negan will rub your back and sit with you until you fall asleep.

[loves4yukio]

Unspoken Desires

Negan x F!Reader

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

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

Word count : 5k6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, hush.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe you should think about it again.

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

[lanadelnegan]

stepdad negan stepdad negan stepdad negan stepdad negan

his pretty lil stepdaughter and stepdad negan

Daddy Issues

Warnings: 18+, smut, slow burn with lots of sexual tension, time jumps (reader ages from 18-20, negan is in his 40s), age-gap, very taboo relationship (if this isn’t your thing, pls don’t read), p in v, extreme daddy kink, oral (both), masturbating in front of him, lots of dirty talk (negan being absolutely filthy), breeding

“Isn’t your dad home?”

“He’s asleep, don’t worry.” You smiled, pulling your boyfriend by his shirt and kissing him. It was a quarter past midnight, there was no way Negan would still be waiting up on you. You discarded your clothes on the living room floor before bending over the couch. Your knees pressed into the cushions while your boyfriend lined himself up behind you and entered you with one quick thrust. 

You moaned, resting your forehead on the arm of the couch while he plowed into you from behind. He gripped your hair and pulled, forcing you to look up. And when you did, you locked eyes with your stepdad standing in the door frame to the hallway just across the living room. His dark gaze was fixed on you, an unreadable expression on his face as he stood with his arms crossed.  

Your boyfriend must not have noticed him, because his thrusting didn’t stop and only became harder, making you gasp. You couldn’t look away from Negan, being intrigued by his willingness to stay and watch you. Moaning even louder, you put on a show for him. Negan’s gaze roamed to your breasts that were bouncing with each thrust before slowly trailing back to your eyes. 

Like you had fantasized about a million times, you imagined that it was Negan behind you, and that thought alone was enough to make you come undone. 

“Daddyyy!” You cried out, making a small smirk appear on Negan’s face before he disappeared down the hall and to his bedroom. 

2 years later: 

Negan never told your mom what happened. In fact, he never even mentioned it to you either. It was like the entire thing never happened. Your mom started working out of town more and more. In fact, she was hardly ever home, which made Negan step up and become the strict parent. It was super annoying, especially when he would lecture you about your clothing.  

“I’m 20.” You scoffed like you couldn’t believe this was even an issue. When are you going to start treating me like an adult?!” 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Go change, now.” 

“Make me.” You realized how childish it sounded coming out of your mouth, but you didn’t care. You wanted to push his buttons. 

“Do not test me, sweetheart.”

You crossed your arms defiantly, looking up at him, unwilling to move. Before you realized what was happening, you were being thrown over his shoulder. You yelped, trying to grab him, but his grasp was tight on your back thigh as you hung upside down. He carried you up the stairs without saying a word. 

“Is this necessary?” You yelled, blood rushing to your head. 

When he made it to your bedroom, he kicked the door open and threw you on the bed. 

“What is wrong with you?!” You screamed. 

He ignored you again, going to your closet and shifting through all your clothes before finding a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt to throw at you. 

“Are you serious? It’s the middle of summer.” You threw the clothes back at him. 

“Maybe if you owned a pair of decent shorts, this wouldn’t be an issue.” 

You stared at him in disbelief. He wasn’t joking. He leaned against the doorframe of your closet and your mind flashed back to the moment 2 years ago - an image you replay in your head often. 

“Fine.” You stood and removed your shirt, revealing a pink bra underneath. 

“Y/n.” He warned. “What are you doing?” His voice was almost a whisper.

“Changing.” You shrugged, pulling off your skirt, leaving you in nothing but a small pair of panties that matched your bra.

Negan’s eyes remained on yours, refusing to look down at your body. 

“What’s wrong? Nothing you haven’t seen before.” You smirked. 

“You’re grounded. You can forget about going out tonight.”

“Then I guess I won’t need this either.” You hummed, unclasping your bra and dropping it to the floor. 

He gave in this time, dropping his eyes to your breasts. His jaw flexed like he was holding himself back. 

“Bringing back memories, daddy?” 

He walked towards you, stopping when he was close enough to look down at you. 

“What would your mother say if she knew what a little slut you were?” 

“Doesn’t matter. I have no respect for her after I found out she cheated on you.” 

Negan’s brows scrunched together as he searched your eyes. You bent over, pressing your ass to his crotch as you pulled your phone from your skirt pocket that was on the floor. He sighed frustratedly, taking a step back. 

You handed him your phone after clicking on your mom’s messages. You almost felt bad for telling her secret, but she deserved it. Negan was so good to her and deserved to know the truth. His expression was blank as he read through the proof. 

“I thought you deserved to know. I’m sorry.” You said sincerely. 

He tossed the phone on the bed behind you. “Thanks, but I already knew.” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” 

“I found out a while ago after seeing a text from him on her phone.” 

“Oh.. then why are you still with her?” You asked, suddenly feeling silly being almost naked in front of him during a serious conversation. 

“Somebody’s gotta take care of you.” He raised his eyebrows before turning and leaving your room. “Oh, and I meant what I said by the way. You’re grounded. For the rest of the weekend. And put some damn clothes on.” He said, shutting your door and leaving you in the uncomfortable silence of your room. 

The next day: 

You’ve spent the majority of the day in your room, transitioning between a book and scrolling on your phone. Anything to take your mind off the awkwardness of yesterday.

Negan has barely said a word to you in the couple times you’ve seen him today. Out of boredom, you decided to pop in your earbuds and watch an adult video on your phone. You found your favorite stepdad video that portrayed a man who looked extremely similar to Negan and your hand drifted underneath the covers as you played with yourself.

The volume on your earbuds was turned up to the max, so you didn’t hear your bedroom door open. You were so caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice him approaching you either until your phone was ripped from your hand. Pulling the blanket over yourself, you quickly shot up and pulled out your earbuds.

“What the fuck?!” You yelled, turning a bright shade of red when you realized he was watching the video. His expression was unreadable as he watched it for a moment and you wondered if he liked it. Turning the phone around to you, he raised his eyebrows.

“Seriously?” He said, reading the title of the video out loud and you wanted to die of embarrassment.

You jerked the phone out of his hand. “What happened to knocking? And what gives you the right to just take my phone? I’m an adult.”

“First of all, I did knock but clearly -" He paused, glancing at your phone before continuing. "..You didn’t hear me. Secondly, I pay for your phone, sweetheart. I can look at whatever I want.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Okay, so now what? I’m grounded even longer?"

“No. Now? You’re going to finish.”

Negan removed the blanket from your body and continued standing at the side of your bed. His hands slipped in his pockets and he nodded, giving you permission to continue.

“Are...are you serious…?”

“Orrr you can stay grounded. It’s up to you.”

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He wanted to watch you touch yourself. You adjusted yourself slightly, so that he could see your pussy completely. You were only in your panties and felt the wet spot that had already formed on them.

You moved your panties to the side with one hand, giving him a better view. Seeing him watch you with his eyes blown with lust was enough to make you wetter before you even touched yourself again. Reaching your other hand down, you ran a finger through your slit, getting it wet before circling your clit.

He didn’t take his eyes off your pussy and his jaw flexed when your finger dipped inside. Wet sounds filled the room as you started to moan softly, seeing the bulge in his pants grow bigger by the second.

“Negan.. I need your help, please.” You begged. His eyes met yours but he didn’t answer you. You could see he was losing his mind inside, and you knew you were close to breaking him.

“Can I just see it?” You asked, referring to his cock. “I’ve always wanted to know. Please?”

“No. Now be a good girl and show me what you can do. We both know you don’t need my help.” His adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he restrained himself. You did as he said, moaning louder and rubbing your clit faster. You felt your orgasm building quickly and your breaths became frequent and shallow as you locked eyes with him.

“Daddy…” You whined.

As soon as the word came off your tongue, Negan caved - diving between your legs as he spread them wider. You held your panties back further, giving him more access and immediately cried out when his tongue dipped inside of you.

He groaned into you, burying his face deeper and licking every drop as you rode out your orgasm. You tried gripping his hair but he had already pulled away and took a few steps back. You sat up quickly, not wanting him to leave.

"Negan.."

“Fuck. That should not have happened."

“No, wait-“ You tried to explain but he left your room, closing the door behind him.

A few hours later:

“Come in.” You responded to the knock on your door.

“Hey kiddo, listen. About earlier.”

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” You said, keeping your eyes on your book.

He sighed, dropping his head. “It can't happen again. It shouldn't have in the first place. That was my fault, and I shouldn't-

You slammed your book shut, looking at him annoyed. "It wasn't your fault. I tried to seduce you.. more than once. And failed miserably. And honestly, I'm embarrassed, so please. Let's just forget about it."

"Sweetheart." He walked towards your bed, sitting at the edge. "You don't have to be embarrassed."

"You've seen me naked. And didn't do anything. You obviously don't want me or find me attractive, and I get that now."

"Woah, slow down." His large hand slid over your leg to comfort you. "You? Are the most beautiful thing in the world to me, y/n. You know that. But I-"

"But you don't want me in that way."

"Baby, this is about what I can't have. Not what I want."

"If you never met my mom, and we ran into each other.. would you..?" Your cheeks turned pink and you couldn't finish your question.

"Yes. Without question, darlin'."

A tear slipped down your cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb, looking down at you like he wanted to take your pain away.

"I wish you would have met me first." You whispered.

He got up and kissed your forehead. "Me too." He mumbled, and you questioned if he actually said it or if you just heard it in your head.

You stopped him before he left the room. "Negan?"

"Yea, doll?"

"Am I still grounded?"

He laughed, thinking for a moment. "Why? Somewhere you need to be?"

"No, actually, I was thinking we could.. spend some time together tonight and watch a movie in the theater room like we used to?"

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely, sweetheart. You gonna let me choose the movie for once?"

"Not a chance." You laughed, knowing you always get your way. And you always will.

Later that night:

The smell of buttery popcorn filtered through your bedroom as you stepped out of the shower. You couldn't help but smile as you got ready for movie night, smothering your skin in your favorite lotion and pulling on your cheekiest pair of underwear. You dug through your t-shirt drawer, pulling out one of Negan's old rock band tees that you stole years ago. It was big enough on you to cover your ass, so you passed on wearing pants.

“So that’s where that shirt went.” He laughed as you walked into the kitchen. “Been looking everywhere for it."

“Oh, I didn’t think you wore it anymore. You can have it back.” You said, making note of how good he looked. His hair was damp from a shower and grey sweatpants rested low on his waist, not leaving much to your imagination. You tried not to stare at the outline of his manhood, but it was impossible not to.

Negan approached you, handing you the popcorn bowl and your favorite candy while he grabbed your drinks.

“No way, darlin’. It looks much better on you.” His tone was flirty as he stood towering beside you, darting his tongue out to slide seductively over his bottom lip. He smelled amazing, too - like leather soap.

"Decide on a movie?" He asked, following behind you down the stairs to the renovated movie room. You had spent so many weekend nights in here as a kid but this was the first time you and Negan would be spending it together alone.

"I was thinking something we haven't seen before. There's a scary movie out that looks good."

"You hate scary movies." He chuckled, setting down the drinks on the coffee table and you did the same, picking up the remote and finding the movie.

"Yeah when I was a kid." You laughed. "Not anymore."

You started the movie and turned off the lights as Negan got settled in his usual spot - the wide chaise lounge end of the sectional where he could rest his legs out in front of him. The couch was hugely oversized, with the lounge part almost the size of a full bed.

You made your way over to the other side of the couch, trying to give him his space and not make it weird.

“The hell are you doing?”

You gave him a weird look. What do you mean?”

“You always sit next to me on movie night. Get your ass over here."

You hoped he couldn't see the excitement on your face as your heart beat out of his chest. He was right - you did always snuggle next to him during movie nights. But that was years ago, before you could look at him without imaging him on top of you screwing your brains out.

“Just like old times, huh?” You grinned, glancing at him as you both munched on the popcorn and watched the slow intro of the movie. You could sense his gaze on you but kept yours on the screen.

“Not exactly.”

“What’s different now?” You asked innocently.

His voice was low and raspy when he answered. “I know how your pussy tastes.”

Your face turned pink and butterflies in your stomach came to life. You didn’t know what to say, so you just looked at him. There was a small smirk on his face and his eyes dropped to your mouth. You were seconds away from crashing your lips to his when a girl in the movie screamed. Negan cleared his throat and focused his attention back to the movie, so you did the same, trying to calm down your racing heart in the process.

You both sat in silence for awhile before Negan leaned over you to put the popcorn on the table. When he settled back into the couch, his arm slid around your back as his thumb slipped underneath your shirt, holding your waist. You felt like your skin was on fire.

He noticed the goosebumps on your bare legs as you shivered from his touch. Reaching for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, he covered you both and you took the opportunity to snuggle into him closer, resting your head on his shoulder and laying your hand over his toned stomach. You wanted to slip your hand under his shirt too but you were frozen, waiting for him to make the next move.

Half of the movie flew by and you had no idea what was going on. All you could think about was Negan. You hid your face during the jump scares each time, using it as an excuse to bury your face in his shirt and smell his manly scent.

"You can look now." He chuckled. You slowly lifted your head from his shirt, and when you did, you locked eyes with him. His hand slid against your cheek, cupping your jaw before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours softly.

You kissed him back, and he deepened the kiss when he knew you were comfortable with it, letting his tongue slip past your lips and rub against yours. You accidentally whimpered as his other hand finally moved lower on your hip. His fingers teased the edge of your panties before dipping in a few inches until his hand was fully pressed against your ass cheek while he kissed you.

You followed his lead, sliding your hand lower on his stomach until it reached the top of his sweatpants. You felt his dick grow underneath your touch and stroked him through the material. Negan’s hips lifted slightly as he moaned into your mouth.

“I wanna taste you here, too, daddy.” You said, finally pulling away from his mouth and sliding his sweatpants down in the front.

“Baby….” He warned, but he didn’t tell you to stop. So you pushed the material down further until his cock sprang free and bounced against his stomach.

“It’s so big and.. pretty.” You said amazed as you stroked it. You studied the veins in it and noted how tiny your hand looked in comparison.

He chuckled softly, dipping his fingers deeper in your panties until they reached your soaked cunt from behind. “Not as pretty as this little pussy.”

You moaned, pushing your ass into his touch until his finger slid inside you. “Fuckin’ leaking for daddy already.”

You tried to focus on his cock while he fingered you, taking the tip in your mouth and getting it wet before letting it slide to the back of your throat.

“Ahhhh shit, baby, that’s it.” He groaned, leaning his head back with pleasure. You bobbed your head up and down his length while his free hand tangled in your hair and guided you.

“You are fantastic at this, baby girl. Making daddy feel so fucking good.”

A bead of his precum leaked into your mouth and you moaned around his cock, loving the taste of it. Finally coming up for air, you took a deep breath before he pulled you to his lips again and kissed you harder than before. You climbed over him, straddling his lap as he sank a little lower on the couch. Both of his hands reached in your panties and gripped your ass while you hovered over him, feeling his cock brush against you teasingly.

“Negan.. please.. I need you inside me.” You begged between kisses, making him instantly rip your panties apart with his hands before tossing them to the floor.

He guided you by your hips until the tip of his rock hard cock was aligned perfectly with your throbbing entrance.

"You sure this is what you want, baby?"

You answered him by sliding down and taking him as far as you could, stopping when it reached your limit. You whimpered at the pain of trying to take him deeper.

“Come on, doll. You wanted me so bad and now you’ve got me. Take it all.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You had never heard him talk this way. Not even through the walls when he fucked your mom. You bit down on your lip and sat on him completely, letting him reach a spot that no one had reached before.

“Oh my god.. fuck.. it hurts.” But in the best, otherworldly way.

“Look at me.” He gripped your jaw. “Focus on me, baby." He whispered, encouraging you trust him while you adjust to his size. You leaned your forehead against his as you started to move up and down. Slowly the pain was replaced with pure pleasure. A feeling you never knew existed before him.

“There you go, baby. Just like that.” He grunted, slipping his hands underneath your shirt and squeezing your tits. "Fuck, doll. You're making me feel so damn good."

Your cheeks were flushed while you moaned and buried your face into the side of his neck. His hands returned to your ass as he helped you bounce up and down on him faster.

Wet slapping sounds and moans from both of you echoed in the room like surround sound, drowning out the movie.

“Negan." You whined in his ear while grabbing at his hair. "I'm-" You couldn't finish your sentence. Your core tightened and your vision went blurry when warm liquid suddenly poured out of you and all over his lap.

“Fuuuck yes, that's my girl.” He groaned, looking down between you at the feeling of your juices coating his cock. He gave your ass a light smack before standing up and bending you over the couch. You still felt lightheaded when he entered you from behind, harder and somehow deeper this time.

“Oh my god! Negan!”

“Who?” He asked, jerking your hair back so that your back arched perfectly.

“Daddy!!” You corrected yourself, earning a small chuckle from him as he fucked you harder and faster.

“Ohh baby, you are such a good girl, taking daddy’s cock like this. You know how bad I’ve wanted to bend you over this fucking couch?”

You answered him with a louder moan while his balls slapped against your skin.

He laughed, breathlessly, pulling you back further by your hair until your back was pressed against his chest. "That day you teased me with your little prick boyfriend? ... It took everything in me not to walk over and fuck you myself. I should have made him watch instead so he could hear what you sound like when you actually cum."

"You should have." You moaned, barely about to speak.

He sucked on your neck before reaching around your waist and finding your clit. You leaned heavily against him as your felt another orgasm growing.

“Negan.. will you cum in me?”

He groaned in your ear. “I can’t baby. We can’t risk that.”

“Don’t you love me, daddy?” You asked innocently.

“So fucking much, sweetheart.” His thrusts became faster and his breathing was unsteady, telling you he was close.

“Then prove it.. Please daddy, cum in me.”

That was all it took for him to let out a loud, long groan and you knew from the way he stopped deep inside of you that ropes of his seed were splattering your walls. You came right after him, being completely sent over the edge with knowing your pussy was full of his cum. You both breathed heavily, coming down from your high before he finally pulled out of you.

“Goddamn. And here I thought you had me wrapped around your finger before. Now? You are mine, all of you, baby.” He said, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Negan.. what are we gonna do?” You asked worried.

“We’ll figure that out later, sweetheart. Right now? I wanna take you up to your room and eat that sweet pussy out till morning.”

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 17

Summary: Negan gets a visit from Y/N after the fight he had with Joel and she has him make a very emotional promise to her. Joel opens up to his brother about something he kept locked away for many years.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Negan Smith, Tommy Miller, Lucille Smith, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/157173025 Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, Smut, talks about someone wanting to hurt themselves, a character has memories about what it felt to experience both abuse and homophobia from their parent, mental trauma from a character, etc.

Notes: This chapter I just edited and finished at 430 in the morning. I'm trying to keep up with schedules, but I know I'm falling behind and I'm doing my best! This chapter has someone talking about their past and the homophobia they had to face when they were younger. Especially in terms of their family. It is emotional and it could trigger some if they have ever been in this situation. I just want to put it out there.

Overwhelmed would be an understatement for Negan right now. After everything that happened today, it was really hard to focus on one thing. Dropping his head back against the couch, Negan reached up to cover his eyes releasing a stressed exhale. He was trying to focus on anything other than the throbbing that he was feeling in his knee right now. After all the injuries that Negan had experienced from playing baseball, he knew what it felt like when he was severely injured. This was not that kind of pain, but it certainly did fucking hurt. And it hurt bad. But it was the kind of ache that he would get when he overworked his knee. Not so much the pain of a horrible injury.

To help with the pain, there was a bag of ice wrapped around his knee while he was laid stretched out on the couch. Even with his eyes closed it felt like the room was spinning around him. It was probably from a mixture of the pain along with the adrenaline that was fueling through him. There was a dull ache in his fists along with his face since he had gotten into a fight with Joel even though he tried so very hard to not let it happen.

Disappointment was flooding through his veins as well. For so long he did pretty well with handling Joel, but tonight Joel went too far and made him snap. And that was bad because Y/N was right. Joel was drunk and he had no filtering system. Fighting with Joel while he was drunk made no sense, but once Joel started spouting off about Lucille, he couldn’t contain himself.

A faint knocking drew him to drag his palms down over his face. Turning his head toward the door, Negan sighed loudly when there was a second knock alerting him that he wasn’t making up the sound in his head. Lifting his head up from the couch, Negan wondered if his knee could make the trip to the door or if it was even worth it. Forcing himself up, he pushed up onto his hands and it probably took him way too long to get up from the couch. Setting down the bag of ice, he limped over toward the door and reached for the handle. Bracing most of his weight on his good leg, Negan felt his heart sink when he opened the door to see Y/N standing before him.

“What were you thinking running off on me?” she blurt out with Negan shamefully lowering his head to avoid looking at her. Clinging to the doorknob, Negan swallowed down hard and felt a chill running through his veins. “You were hurt. I don’t even know how you got home without getting in an accident and hurting yourself further.”

“I was ashamed and figured you wouldn’t want to be around me,” Negan confessed, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. There was a lot that was said today and thrown out on the table for her to deal with, so he didn’t even know where to start with things. “There was a lot thrown at you and…”

“Do you not want me here?” she interrupted Negan having his sad hazel eyes connecting with hers. Slouching, Negan bit down on his bottom lip and could see that she was worried about him. “I can leave if you don’t want me.”

“You know that I want you here,” Negan claimed, his long eyelashes fluttering. Nodding toward the inside of his rental home she waited for Negan to step aside and allow her into the house. Closing the door behind her, Negan rubbed at the back of his neck with the incredible amount of tension that was building up inside of him.

“Why would you think I wouldn’t want to be around you?” she wondered, noticing the bag of ice that was sitting on the couch. Turning on her heel, she looked to Negan expectantly wanting some kind of answer from him but he was at a loss of words.  

“There are plenty of reasons,” he stated, taking a few steps closer to her limping as he did it. “I should have never attacked Joel. I tried so hard to keep it together, but I didn’t. He was drunk and he didn’t have a filtering system. It was wrong for me to attack him. And Joel isn’t wrong Y/N. I’m a horrible person. I did terrible things…”

“I’m surprised you held it together as long as you did,” she suggested, stepping forward to reach for Negan’s hands. Holding them, she felt them trembling with her caressing over the backs of them with her thumbs. Right now the number one thing he was feeling was shocked. Especially since her caress was so kind and gentle. More than anything he thought she would be mad at him. “And I don’t care.”

“You don’t care?” he stammered, confusion flooding his features. He wasn’t too entirely sure what she was pertaining to when she said that.

“I don’t care what you used to be,” she whispered, closing the distance between the two of them. Palming in over the side of Negan’s face had him letting out a tremoring breath, his eyes coming to a slow close. Leaning into the warmth of her touch, Negan’s bottom lip was slightly trembling while she comforted him. “I don’t care what you used to be like. All I care about is who you are now. How you treat me, how you treat my children.”

“I’m not good enough for you. I know he’s right about that,” Negan confessed, his eyes still closed with him cuddling his face in against the warmth of her palm. “I realized too late the mistakes I was making in life. I should have been a good husband the whole time, but I let things get to me. I wasn’t a good man for a very long time.”

“I don’t doubt that you loved your wife. I see it in the way you talk about her,” she hushed him, lifting her other hand to cup his face in her hands tenderly. By the time he opened his eyes, she could see that tears were burning at them. “One thing you’ve never been able to do is lie to me Negan Smith. I can see right through you and when you talk about her, I see pure love. I can see the pain in your eyes when you talk about her. I know how you took off time from work to take care of her. You still wear your wedding rings on your body Negan. You fucked up, you did. But I don’t think for a second that you didn’t love her.”

A sob fell from Negan’s lips and she urged him to lower down so she could press a lingering kiss over his forehead, “I don’t doubt that by the end of her life, Lucille knew how sorry you were. She knew how much you loved her and how much she loved you.”

Leading him over toward the couch, she got him to sit down and then lowered in beside him. Sweeping her fingers over his jawline, she allowed him to rest his head against her shoulder. Brushing her fingers through Negan’s thick hair, she hushed him when he started to cry.

“It’s okay,” she comforted him, wrapping him up in her arms allowing him a moment to go through that pain that had been pent up inside of him for so long. “I know that you miss Lucille and I can’t imagine what it’s like losing someone you love that much the way that you did. But please. Promise me that no matter what happens in the future…don’t hurt yourself. Keep fighting for me…for Lucille…”

Lifting his head from her shoulder, Negan’s reddened over eyes looked miserable. Placing another kiss over his forehead, she let it linger before frowning, “I need you here. I want you in my life. So no matter what, if things ever get hard or you need to find strength, please call me. Talk to me. Open up to me. Because a universe without Negan Smith is not somewhere I want to be.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan muttered with a firm nod, his chest aching with an incredible amount of guilt that he was feeling. Only a handful of people had known about him trying to kill himself in the past, but never having the strength to do it. Now Y/N and Joel were added to that list.

“Promise me,” she pled with him, her own eyes tearing over with the thought of what Negan admitted to both her and Joel. Hell, she knew Negan was depressed and upset about losing Lucille, but she never pictured that Negan was the kind of person that would try to kill himself. Especially since Negan seemed like the type to be high on life, never wanting to lose a moment. “Promise me that you will never try to kill yourself again. Because that would break me. It would break my heart forever and I would never forgive you for it. Because I love you. Do you understand me?”

Nodding his head, Negan had a hard time forming words, but she forced him to look at her and he released a broken breath.

“I promise,” Negan exhaled, his body trembling with her sweeping his tears away. With how emotional she was getting over all of this, it broke his heart to see. But with how emotional she was about it, he knew that she genuinely cared for him. “I know I shouldn’t be crying. I shouldn’t be having a breakdown…”

“I’d be worried about you if you weren’t,” she declared, sliding in closer to him to caress over the length of his back toward his shoulders. “You’re broken. You loved someone so deeply and you lost them. You have to talk about it. You have to feel…”

“Joel talks about how he missed out on so much, but he’s wrong. Stardom only made me worse,” Negan insisted, his fingers reaching up to curl around her wrist to caress over her pulse point with his thumb. “I would have given anything to have the life that he had with you and the children. We tried so hard to have children and we were always fighting about it. What he mentioned with me not being able to have children, it might be true. I might be broken completely…I was never brave enough to find out. She wanted me to, but…” 

“If you can’t, there is nothing wrong with that Negan,” she insisted with her eyebrows furrowing and her head shaking slowly. Even the idea that Negan could possibly not be capable of having children was tearing him apart. But it wasn’t something that she thought he should be focusing on since there was already so much on his mind about things. “That doesn’t make you broken. And for all you know there is nothing wrong with you. Lucille was sick. And you don’t know for how long. It could have been a combination of things.”

“You shouldn’t be being nice or empathetic to my situation,” Negan suggested with a firm shake of his head, his jaw flexing with discomfort. After what Joel broke to her, he figured that she would never want to speak or talk to him again. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Don’t you think you’ve punished yourself enough?” she inquired with Negan’s expression growing sadder. When something like suicide was a topic of discussion, it wasn’t something you should blow off and with how emotional Negan was, she was happy that she came to him tonight. “Lucille asked you to live life for her and you promised that you would. Do you think she wanted you to continue to hurt yourself over the things you did wrong?”

“No,” Negan answered honestly, his bottom lip trembling further while she stroked over his face. There were a lot of discussions that the two of them had about the subject. Lucille was always angry with him for being so emotional. Begging him to promise to continue on with his life. To make something with the time he had left. Because she couldn’t. So if someone could, she wanted Negan to. Especially since she loved him.

“Then don’t do it,” she was doing her best to pull him from what it was that actually broke Negan tonight. “Focus on the good times you had. The moments you got to share together before she passed away. Because those are the moments that mattered. I know it hurts. More than anything you want to hug her, touch her and tell her that you love her, but she hears you Negan. Talk to her. Because she is and will always be with you.”

Placing her hand in over the center of his chest had his cries growing harder. Shakily his hand covered hers and squeezed it tightly in his grasp, “It’s so hard because we can’t hold them anymore, but they never really leave us. They are always there. She’s part of you and she always will be.”

Slouching forward, Negan’s forehead rest against hers with her stroking over the back of his neck, over his scalp and through his hair in a soothing manner, “You see so much darkness in yourself Negan and I see so much potential. So much love.”

“You always saw the best in me when no one else did,” Negan reminded her, palming his hands up and over her arms. “I think the other people were right about me. You just saw hints of something that weren’t really there.”

“No, I don’t believe that,” she whispered, refusing to allow him to sink into the thought that he was a terrible person. “Yeah, you’re a smart ass and you probably deserve to get punched sometimes, but everyone does. I’ve seen the things you do for the people you care about. You have a big heart when you allow yourself to show it. I’ve seen it many times since you came back to town. It’s there. And it shines bright.”

“I don’t know what I would have done if we didn’t run into each other again,” Negan admitted, swallowing down, turning in to press a loving kiss against the center of her palm. “I love you, so fucking much.”

“And I love you,” she whispered, enjoying the warmth of him before her. It ate away at her hearing Negan break down like he had when they were all together. Those words continued to play in her head like a broken record. The idea of Negan killing himself was a horrible nightmare for her. One she never wanted to face. “I always have and I always will.”

“I’m so sorry I let what Joel did break us apart,” Negan stammered, his breathing uneven with her tenderly caressing at the side of his neck and over his face. “I knew you had a crush on him. I should have understood. I was just so young and selfish. “

“I think you’re defining me right now,” she rolled her eyes at the idea that he was the bad one in the situation. There were a lot of things that she could say about Negan, but in the past he was the biggest victim in this whole situation. “The only person that wasn’t in the wrong in that situation was you. I wish you would have told me what was going on with Joel, but…”

“But you loved him so much,” Negan spoke up before she could finish her sentence getting her to look at him fully. “If you thought there was any question about the purity of your relationship, I knew it would break your heart. That’s why I never told you. You would question everything. And you shouldn’t have. Because he looked at you with so much love whenever I saw the two of you after that night. It’s why I never did anything. It may have broken me, but it made two people that I cared about happy. Two people that deserved happiness very much. I don’t question that Joel loved you.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” she admitted in terms of Joel and the things that he told her. “I feel like there is so much that I don’t know about Joel. Things that he was never honest with me about. Unlike you, I can’t tell when he’s being honest or lying to me.”

“I think Joel deserves the same opportunity that I do,” Negan explained with a loud swallow. Something in her eyes showed that she didn’t understand. “You forgave me for my past. You mention the man that I am now…Joel is right I was a worse husband than he ever was. I’m just innocent when it comes to you because I wasn’t the one that hurt you. If you can get over that part of me, you should realize that he can be different too.”

“The man devastates you and gets you angry enough to start a physical fight with him, yet you’re still defending him,” she noted, surprised that Negan would go to bat for Joel even after everything that happened. Then again, that was something that Negan seemed to be doing longer than she ever even realized.

“Because he’s broken,” Negan replied with a frown. Hearing that took her breath away. “He’s at the stage I was when I first lost Lucille. He’s hitting all the stages at once. Regret. Pain. Anger. Disbelief. Fury. Rage. They are eating away at him and he’s just lost it because he loves you, but he doesn’t know how to show it. I’m not lying to you when I tell you that I think Joel regrets everything that he did. I think if he could go back in time and stop it from happening, he would. I don’t want to lead you on and make you believe that he’s this terrible piece of shit. Because he’s not. He did shitty things, but I do fucking believe that he loves you. And that he’s a good man. Just a man that had a lot of bad shit happen in his life, so he’s bad with his feelings and his emotions.”

With a deep inhale, Negan looked down and shook his head, “I know you love him too. I can see it in the way that the two of you look at one another. And if you want to be with Joel, I don’t want to hold you back. I feel like you are experiencing guilt because you don’t want to let me down, but I love you. So fucking much that if Joel makes you happy, if Joel is where you feel whole—I love you enough to let you go.”

“I don’t want you to let me go,” she was quick to respond, hushing him when she brought him in closer to her. “I can’t lose you from my life again Negan. You have brought back a joy that I never thought would be there again. You awakened that thing inside of me that I thought was long gone. Whether we’re together or not, I need you.”

“And I need you,” Negan agreed with her nuzzling his nose in against hers in a tender moment. Cherishing the warmth of her near, Negan still felt an ache at the center of his chest. “But I don’t want Joel suffering either.”

“Nor do I,” she acknowledged knowing that there was so much love in her heart for her ex-husband still. That wasn’t something that she could hide. Joel still held part of her heart in his hand and that would never leave her. “But if making Joel feel better is kicking you out of my life, I can’t do that. I’m probably not a good person and I acknowledge that because I love the both of you. Very much.”

Meeting her stare, Negan exhaled loudly with her getting up from the couch. Turning when she applied pressure at his shoulders, Negan sat the right way on the couch. Sighing, he bit down on his bottom lip when she caressed in over the center of his chest to get him to relax. Lowering down to her knees before him, she started to caress over Negan’s hurt leg eliciting a pained sound to fall from him. Grabbing the bag of ice, she placed it over his knee with one hand while the other continued to caress over his thigh.

“I love Joel. Nothing will change that. I’m smart enough to admit that,” she confessed, her breathing growing louder with the way that Negan was looking at her behind heavy eyelids. “But I know how I feel about you. I love you so much. No one makes me feel the way that you do. Poor, happy, sad, rich…I don’t care. You mean so much to me and I can’t throw you out of my life.”

“Y/N,” he exhaled loudly with her getting up further on her knees. Setting the ice aside, she started to undo his belt. Unhooking it and pulling it apart had Negan’s breathing growing more uneven. With her fingers undoing his pants and opening them, Negan lowered his hands and grabbed her wrists to stop her. “Don’t.”

“It’s okay,” she hushed him, urging his hands onto the couch beside him. Tugging at the material of his pants, she pulled the dark slacks from his body. Setting them aside, she took her time to caress over his thighs. It had him inhaling sharply when she lowered down over his knees to sweep over them and down to his calves. Slightly turning toward his hurt leg, she started massaging at his flesh. When her fingers swept over the scars that were over his knee area, she lowered forward to press loving kisses over his flesh. “You are so beautiful. Inside and out.”

Caressing his fingers over the back of her neck, Negan grasped at her hair and let out a pleased sound with her touching him. For a while she gave his leg a massage, working to get him to relax with it aching. Truthfully? She was one of the only people that he would trust near his leg like that.

Placing a final kiss over his knee had chills running down his spine. Getting up carefully from the ground, she took her jacket off as she kicked out of her boots. There was something that he should have said, but he couldn’t form words when she took her time to pull her sweater from her body. Once she had the material at her side, she dropped it next to where she had set his pants down.

Adjusting his positioning on the couch, Negan’s lips parted and he was ready to tell her that she didn’t need to do this. But as she started to shimmy out of her pants, it had a lump growing at the center of his throat. Almost immediately, he became breathless. His heart hammered in his chest with her reaching around herself to unhook her bra allowing the material to fall. The first sight of her bare breasts had him nervously licking his lips. Even though they had been together many times at this point, she still took his breath away. When she pushed her fingers into her panties to get them down her legs, he could feel his heart skip a beat.

Carefully lowering down to her knees over him had his hands settling in over her hips with his rough fingertips caressing over her flesh. Staring up at her in awe, Negan wondered if he truly deserved her at all.

“I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you,” she apologized bringing their lips together in a passionate, unhurried sweep. Caressing at the back of her thighs, Negan kissed her back. Chills were running up and down his spine.

“No, don’t,” Negan silenced her, his eyelids heavy with desire for the woman before him. “If anything, I should be the one that is sorry. Joel was right. I should have never abandoned you and your family. I should have been here all along helping you. I loved you so much and I let something like that ruin our relationship that we had our whole life.”

“This is one time you can’t take credit,” she whispered, sliding further in over his lap having Negan tip his head back to keep his eyes hooked with hers. “I let my crush on Joel persuade me to be a certain way and I wasn’t thinking.”

“You really do deserve better than me,” Negan admitted with a frown, his rough palms caressing up over her back toward her shoulders. “I’m a broken mess and I don’t deserve the love and support that you give me.”

“I think we’re all a little broken,” she thought aloud, her fingers caressing at Negan’s scalp with her left arm hooking loosely around Negan’s shoulders. “But there is no one that makes me feel better than you do. I think you realize the person you were and you’re trying your best to make things better. For everyone.”

“I think I’m fucking up Joel,” Negan countered with a firm shake of his head, letting out a sigh. Watching her hands palm down in over the center of his chest toward his abdomen, Negan bit down on his bottom lip when she reached the bottom of the black henley that he was wearing. Raising his arms, Negan allowed her to tug the material up his body and drop it on the floor with the rest of their clothing.

“You’ve been trying to help Joel,” she corrected him with a shake of her head, her fingers teasing through the dark curls of hair over Negan’s torso. “I see it. What you did at that bar, the way you handle him. I think you’ve done a really good job.”

“We fought tonight,” he reminded her, exhaling loudly with the way her lips hovered over his. “I could have done better.”

“Joel isn’t used to my heart not belonging one hundred percent to him,” she recognized, sliding her hands up over the sides of Negan’s neck toward his face to cup it lovingly in her palms. “You were the one that kept trying to keep the truth from me. You don’t have any ulterior motives. You care about me. You care about him. You treat our children good. I like the man that you became. I like the man that you are with me.”

“I want to be the best version of myself for you,” Negan announced, his voice growing raspier when he felt her reach for the material of his black boxer briefs. Lifting his hips up, he helped her work the material down his body. Wiggling his legs, he grunted with her pushing firmly at the material working to get it to his knees. Lowering back onto the couch, Negan kicked at the material getting it to his ankles. Allowing her back in over him, he cherished the warmth of her body wrapping him up in her arms. Nuzzling his nose at the side of her neck, Negan’s hand caressed over the lengths of her back with her peppering kisses at his freckle covered shoulders.

“You are,” she assured him, pressing a faint kiss over his ear having him suck in a sharp breath. “I have no doubts when I’m with you. I know how I feel when we’re together.”

Grabbing a hold of his right arm, she led his hand toward the center of her chest allowing him to place it over her heart. Stroking her fingers at the back of his hand, she could tell just by the way that he looked at her that everything he felt was pure.

“You make me happy. I haven’t been happy in a very long time,” she told him the truth, loving the way that his eyes stared out at her. Lifting his hand up, she pressed a loving kiss over the center of it. “When I’m with you, I feel a warmth…love…”

“But I’m putting you in a hard place because I know you love Joel,” Negan commented, his other hand reaching up to trace over her features. “If I wasn’t here to mess things up, you could have everything you wanted with Joel.”

“I’m not sure Joel would be acting the way that he is if you weren’t here,” she sighed loudly, stroking her fingers through Negan’s short beard that covered his face. “You weren’t here for four years with us being divorced. So in a way, I guess you bring out both the best and the worst of Joel. I could whine that I’m in a horrible position, but I have two men that I love very much in my life right now. People can only hope to have one.”

“But what if you decide that you want to be with the other man?” Negan inquired, sucking in a sharp breath when she dropped one of her hands to curl her fingers loosely around his manhood. Tracing over his shaft had Negan’s neck flexing with his lips parting. Fluttering his eyelashes, Negan kept his eyes hooked with hers while she caressed over his length.

“Who am I with right now?” she questioned, her lips hovering in over his. Breathing both loud and uneven, Negan pressed in closer to kiss her but she kept him from kissing her. Smirking, her eyebrow arched and she was waiting for an answer. “Where am I?”

“With me,” Negan responded, dragging his bottom lip in over hers humming out with the sensations she was drawing out from inside of him.

“I could have been with either one of you right now, and you’re the one I chose to come to,” she pointed out, lifting her hips enough to lead his body toward hers. There was something in the way that his eyes hooked with hers that took her breath away. Accepting him into her body, she carefully lowered herself over him moaning with him in unison. Getting comfortable, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders pressing their bodies closer together.

“What if Joel forces you to choose?” Negan stammered, his lips hovering just over hers. Tensing up beneath her, Negan found his body easily reacting to the warmth of her surrounding him without them moving.

“Let’s not worry about that right now,” she whispered, caressing her fingers through his hair at the back of his neck. Having him fully inside of her stagnant ached, but she liked the way that it felt. “I just want to spend my time with you. Be with you. We missed out on so much time together. I don’t want to miss a moment of it.”

“I question if Joel was right,” Negan winced when she lazily rolled her hips upward, taking her time in bringing them back down over him. Every movement was slow, drawn out, and was focusing on their connection. “Maybe the only way for us to truly be happy was to separate us during those years. We would have been hurting both Joel and Lucille. There is something between the two of us that is so strong. I don’t doubt that the two of us would have done something that we regretted if we were still around one another.”

Resting her forehead against his, she cried out at the way that Negan touched her while she moved over him. So much focus and care went into the way that he was with her, “Maybe that makes us bad people.”

“Joel can say whatever he wants to defend his thought process, but that’s not how things worked themselves out,” she silenced Negan, finally bringing their lips together to give him a passionate kiss that had him cupping her face in his hands. Moving ever so slightly back had their lips still brushing against each other’s while she spoke. “So we can talk about the maybes all day long, but that’s not how things were. So we’re not bad people for loving one another.”

“Now that I have you in my life, I can’t lose you,” Negan asserted, his palm sliding up over the center of her chest toward her neck. Curling his fingers around the side of her neck, his thumb traced over her jawline until hovering over her bottom lip. It had her kissing at his flesh and he smiled. “You mean more to me than you will ever know.”

“I feel the same way about you,” she promised, cuddling her head into his touch starting to rock her hips a little harder over his. Their breathing matched each other’s, growing louder with her movements. “I never want you to doubt the man that you are. I think Lucille would be proud of the man that you are now.”

“She’d kill me if she saw what I was doing right now,” he snickered, lifting enough to pepper kisses over her jawline. “I feel like she’d rather me be pining over her still, not falling head over heels in love with someone else.”

“I think you’re doing both,” she whimpered, her hips rolling firmer over his length having Negan moan out. Keeping them close had the warmth of his breath twisting with hers. This moment wasn’t about sex. It was about connecting. Showing how much they cared for each other.

Firmly wrapping his arm around her waist, Negan rolled her onto her back on the couch. Yelping out, her back arched and it was followed by a laugh with the confused expression that Negan was giving her, “The ice! The ice! It’s cold.”

“Oh,” Negan snorted, reaching behind her to dig out the bag of ice that was there. They both were laughing with Negan dropping his head against her chest. Setting the ice on the ground, he felt her kissing at the top of his head and he sighed loudly.

“A bag of ice up my ass sure did add a new sensation,” she teased him, tugging at his hair enough to bring his lips back to hers so they could kiss. Adjusting his body enough, he made sure to take the pressure off his hurt knee before he started to roll his hips up against hers. Locking his eyes with hers, Negan didn’t want to let go of this moment.

“Promise me that we will have each other for the rest of our lives,” Negan begged of her, his fingertips tracing over her jawline. Their bodies moved together in unison with her bouncing up with every thrust. “In whatever way possible.”

“You don’t have to beg me to promise,” she assured him, peppering kisses over his lips with him pausing his movements over her to give her his full attention. “We both know what it’s like not having each other in our lives. It hurts too much. We’ll always have each other from here on out.”

That was all he needed to hear. Now that he knew what it was like to be happy again and to feel loved after being lonely for two years, Negan knew that he couldn’t lose this.

Their love making session was slow, drawn out and by the time they were done, they were laid stretched out together on the couch. Her thigh was wrapped around his waist, her head resting on his chest with her drawing shapes over his abdomen.

“You don’t think I’m trying to steal Joel’s life, do you?” Negan still found himself considering the things that Joel had lashed out at him for today.

“Negan,” she frowned, her fingertips tracing over the tattoo that was over his pectoral muscle. “Don’t let that eat away at you. Joel is just jealous because people really like you. And it’s hard for him to get people to like him. The children still very much love their dad. They have just happily accepted you into their lives too.”

“I just don’t want…” Negan started only to yelp when he felt the sensation of something cold over his nipple. Arching his back up, he lifted his head to see that she had grabbed one of the ice cubes that was mostly melted from the bag that he set aside earlier. “Jesus!”

“It was the quickest way to get your mind focused on something else,” she was highly amused with herself, replacing the cold sensation with warmth by kissing over his nipple. Circling her tongue over his nipple, she snickered against his flesh with him moaning out. Running a line over the center of Negan’s abdomen down toward his belly button had him sucking in a sharp breath. Looking up at him, she shook her head and bit down on her bottom lip. “Joel was drunk. The worst thoughts that Joel has come out of his mouth when he’s drunk. I think you’re right about what you said with Joel. He’s having a hard time coming to terms with what happened between you and him. His brain is hooked on me, but his body wants both you and me.”

“I think he’s worried about what people will think about him if they find out we…” Negan considered the words that he should be using to describe what he did with Joel. “Fucked?”

“Joel hasn’t been comfortable with himself since he was eighteen years old,” she alerted Negan with a long sigh, dropping the ice cube back on top of the bag she pulled it out of. “Give it time. Everything will work itself out. I promise you that.”

“I should be the one promising you that,” Negan noted, his fingertips tracing over her back doing his best to comfort her. “You’re the one being placed in the middle of me and Joel…”

“Poor me. Stuck between two incredibly good-looking men who both love me,” she caused Negan to snort and laugh with her bluntness. “I’m more worried about you and Joel. Allow me that. Because I’m fine. I’ll be fine and I don’t doubt that. Right now, I’m in the arms of the man that I want to be with and I’m perfectly happy with that.” 

----

“You can stop babysitting me,” Joel glanced over at Tommy who was falling asleep at the other end of the couch. After they came home, Peter went to bed almost immediately because he was exhausted. Elizabeth and Tommy stayed up with Joel, both of them visibly worried about him. Pretty quickly Elizabeth had picked up on the fact that Joel had gotten into a fight but he refused to tell her with who. That wasn’t something he was about to bring his daughter into. So instead she stayed up with both him and Tommy for as long as she could. And when she started falling asleep, Joel carried her upstairs to bed. Tommy made him promise to come back downstairs, but Joel didn’t get it. It had been hours since he put Elizabeth to bed, yet Tommy was still holding true to staying with Joel. There was a bag of ice that Joel had placed on his knuckles on his right hand and with his left hand he was holding ice to his nose. In the few good hits that Negan had got on Joel, he had managed to hit Joel in the nose and there was a cut over the bridge of it. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“I don’t know,” Tommy’s eyes grew wide with him trying to wake himself up. Sliding into a better position to focus on the screen, Tommy was still wary about leaving Joel alone. “I don’t trust you alone with yourself right now.”

“You really think I would kill myself and let my children have to deal with that for the rest of their lives?” Joel snapped getting a certain look from Tommy that told him he did think that Joel was capable of hurting himself. “I might be selfish in your opinion, but I’d never do that to Ellie and Peter.”

“I’ve heard the way you talk when you’re upset,” Tommy reminded Joel, turning on the couch to face Joel to give him his full attention. This was why Tommy wouldn’t leave his side. He was worried that Joel would hurt himself. “You’ve threatened it before. Not so long ago either.”

“I wouldn’t do it,” Joel stressed, throwing his hand that was holding the icepack to his nose up in the air to silence Tommy from even talking about it any further. “It was a stupid thing to say and I should have never said it.”

“People don’t always make the best decisions when they are drunk. Emotions get high, their feelings get enhanced and they do…stupid things,” Tommy waved his hand about in the air suggesting that Joel was a perfect example for that. “I don’t think you would have done a lot of things that you did tonight if you were sober.”

“Noted,” Joel scoffed, lowering down on the couch, spreading his thighs further apart so he could get comfortable.

“I’m not trying to be rude Joel, but you say one thing and then you act another,” Tommy recognized how things were with his older brother right now. It was confusing trying to understand what Joel was doing with his life. “Here we are talking about Y/N and how you don’t want to upset her. How you want her happy. Then you are running off on her and attacking her boyfriend.”

“It’s complicated,” Joel suggested with a frown, dropping his head back against the couch out of frustration. What happened tonight was not something that he wanted to explain to people or even go into detail with. Tommy was trying, but Joel was attempting to keep things locked up.

“Everything is complicated with you,” Tommy blurt out with a frown, stroking his fingers through his long hair. “I love you big brother, but you’re emotional because you are jealous.”

Most days, Joel would have fought back. Swore he wasn’t jealous, but deep down? He knew that he was. And there was a strong sense of confusion that filled his veins too.

“Jealousy, anger, alcohol…” Tommy listed off the things he knew were going on with Joel right now, “they make you do stupid things.”

“I get it, I’m stupid,” Joel grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes back to a close. That was a word that Tommy had focused on pretty heavily at this point. “You don’t have to keep reminding me of it.”

“I know it’s hard to hear considering,” Tommy reasoned with Joel knowing that he had offended his brother with that word. There were just a lot of decisions that Joel was making lately that Tommy didn’t agree with or understand. “Can I ask you something?”

“If I said no, it wouldn’t stop you,” Joel pointed out, his head dropping to the side with his eyes slowly opening. “So why bother asking?”

“I’m trying to be polite,” Tommy said with a tip of his head, his dark eyes gazing over his brother. “If you really do feel the way you say you do about Y/N then why does the idea of being together with all three of you bother you so much?”

“Really?” Joel grunted eliciting a dramatic shrug from Tommy. By the expression on Tommy’s face, he was genuinely curious. “Would you be okay if Maria told you that she was in love with another man and she wanted to be with him, but also be with you on the side?”

“If I was desperate enough and that was the only option, I’d take it,” Tommy surprised Joel with his answer. It didn’t seem to bother Tommy that much. “I love Maria. I know it was fast, I know that you would disapprove, but I love her a lot. So if that was the only way to have her in my life, I would deal.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Joel commented, his brown eyes unsure of the way that Tommy responded to his question.

“Beggers can’t be choosers Joel. You’re lucky enough that she still loves you,” Tommy snorted, his hands rubbing out over his own thighs in a stressed manner. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell that Joel was glaring at him, but he didn’t care. “The things you did to her? Most people don’t come back from that. And you only recently broke up with Tess. Yet, you are expecting her to give up the one person who makes her feel good about herself to give you another chance? After how many? You’re lucky that she wants to be with you in any way.”

“Thanks for the support little brother,” Joel snarled, his eyes rolling when he dropped his head back against the couch in frustration again.

“I’m just pointing out the obvious,” Tommy defended himself with a yawn. Right now he was fighting falling asleep off, but it was hard. “If you love her, I think you’d want her to be the happiest version of herself. Right? So if she’s the happiest with both of you…?”

“What would people think?” Joel stressed, his nose wrinkling and that sent a rush of pain up to his forehead. Cussing out, he lifted the ice pack back to his nose to place it where it hurt the most. That was a thought he had been worried about from the start. What the world would think about the three of them being together in some kind of relationship.

“When have you ever cared what people thought?” Tommy was confused by the comment considering Joel always hated people as it was. There was never a moment where Tommy even thought for a second that Joel would care about what others thought about him. “You’ve never been the type to care what people thought of you. They told you that you were too young to be my primary caregiver, but you did it anyways. When people told you that Y/N’s parents were right, the two of you should get an abortion, you told them to fuck off.”

Going to say something, Joel scoffed when he realized that his brother was right, “And if people said things, do you really think it would be out of judgement or jealousy? Most people would love to be in a poly relationship with two people. Especially someone like Negan. Most straight men would happily bend over for Negan.”

Glaring over at Tommy had Tommy shrugging dramatically and making an awkward expression, “I’m just saying Joel, they would. They would brag about it too. So I don’t think you have anything to worry about. People might judge, but they would secretly be thinking how fucking lucky you were.”

“What makes you think I bent over for Negan?” Joel questioned with venom in his tone and it had Tommy’s face twisting with an array of emotions. Of all the things, that was what Joel was focused on and it seemed to put Tommy in a hard place.

An uncomfortable smile donned Tommy’s face and threw his hands up in the air once more, “Originally? I didn’t think you did, but your response to it tells me otherwise.”

A rush of warmth flooded into Joel’s face. Biting down on his lip, Joel kept himself from saying what he really wanted to, forcing himself to look away from Tommy. It embarrassed him to know that Tommy knew what had happened between him and Negan. That wasn’t something he wanted people to know.

“I didn’t think it was that kind of threesome, but I support it,” Tommy threw it out there, taking a moment to consider his next thought. “I’m not gonna judge you for being in a relationship with two people that might make you happy. You haven’t been happy in a long time Joel. If another man makes you happy? And if you sleep with him like that? I support it. Because I know you love Y/N. And something tells me that you like Negan more than you give up too. And if people give you shit for it? I’ll break their face.”

Again, Joel was quiet. It was hard being open with Tommy over…this. That was everything that someone in his position would want to hear from someone they loved. He just didn’t know if he wanted his little brother looking at him like that.

“So…” Tommy finally broke the moment of silence that surrounded them. Clearing his throat, Tommy adjusted his body on the couch and looked to Joel. “How was it?”

“How was what?” Joel scoffed, the line at the bridge of his nose growing deeper.

“Y’know,” Tommy nodded his head about trying to hint to Joel what he was talking about. When Joel realized that he was asking about the sex between him and Negan, Joel scowled and forced himself to look away from Tommy..

“I’m not doing this,” Joel was quick to respond and it had Tommy snickering. Warmth flooded into Joel’s face with his brother now asking him details about the sex that happened with Negan. “It’s not funny Tommy.”

“I don’t think it’s funny,” Tommy swore, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. “I guarantee every man in this town would be jealous. All the women too.”

“So you’d sleep with Negan?” Joel retorted having Tommy groan in disgust. Tommy shook his head and it made Joel angrier. “See, you’re a liar.”

“He’s like my brother you moron,” Tommy realized they were talking too loudly and he lowered his voice. “You, Y/N and Negan were my family growing up. People told me all the time that I should have stolen Y/N out from under you when you got divorced, but I can’t look at her like that. She adopted me Joel. You and her are the closest things I have to parents. And Negan was always like a big brother. So no, I couldn’t sleep with Negan because that would be like sleeping with you.”

Growling out, Joel set aside the ice pack and dropped his head forward into his hands, “Stop overthinking things Joel. You’re sabotaging yourself and your own happiness because you’re suddenly worrying about what other people might think of you?”

“Tommy…” Joel’s voice sounded irritated with it vibrating against his hands.

“Look at me,” Tommy called out to Joel, reaching out to shove at Joel’s shoulder when he didn’t. Another shove had Joel lifting his head in anger. “Do you love Y/N?”

“Yes,” Joel was quick to answer.

“Really love her? Or are you only feeling these things because of Negan?” Tommy brought up the thing that so many others had already done.

“Really love her,” Joel was disgusted that his own brother would question his motives. “I made a mistake when I divorced her Tommy. Why do you think Tess left me?”

“I thought that was a mutual thing,” Tommy commented, his brown eyes confused with his brother’s response about his ex-girlfriend. “You said that she wanted more from you than you were willing to give.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Joel scoffed, pointing toward Tommy who tipped his head to the side like a confused puppy dog. “Toward the end of my marriage with Y/N, I wasn’t very affectionate. It was something that always upset her. She wanted to cuddle. She wanted to hear how much I loved her. Instead I slept on the edge of the bed, the opposite side away from her, I wasn’t touchy feely…”

“Right…” Tommy was waiting for the explanation with Joel rambling.

“I couldn’t be loving and emotional, when I wasn’t that way with Y/N,” Joel expressed how he felt, remembering what he was feeling when he was dating someone else. “And I guess I was always comparing her to Y/N. Using our relationship as an example of how things should be. I liked Tess, but I never loved Tess. She put up with it for as long as she could, but I couldn’t give her what she wanted in a relationship because I was always so hooked on Y/N.”

“Then why did you leave her?” Tommy stressed the question that was always on everyone’s mind. Why would he be stupid enough to leave Y/N when he was still so visibly in love with her?

“I don’t know,” Joel had no really good answer for that. And that infuriated Tommy with his response. “I don’t know Tommy! I could blame my mental health. It was poor. And I think that’s really what it was, but it was still me making a really stupid fucking decision little brother. And I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea in the first place because it never was.”

Tommy was considering everything that Joel was saying, but he was quiet because it was obvious this whole thing was complicated like it had been stressed many times before, “I guess my brain thought I needed time to discover that she was what I wanted all along.”

“Well your brain took its sweet ass time,” Tommy replied back with a disgusted breath at his brother’s confession. Joel didn’t disagree with him. Especially now that they were in such a strange position that had Joel questioning everything. “How many women did you sleep with after you got divorced?”

That was not something that Joel expected Tommy to ask of him. And when he did? Joel got angry. That wasn’t even something that he thought they should be talking about.

“Don’t make me answer that,” Joel begged of his brother, rolling his eyes that Tommy would even go there.

“How many other women have you slept with other than Y/N?” Tommy continued to push having Joel’s jaw flexing. Here he was going to be stubborn and not answer his brother. “Is it so many that you don’t know or are you afraid that I will tell her? Because I’m your fucking brother and you should be able to tell me these things. We should be able to talk to each other about this stuff.”

“There are two answers to your question,” Joel resented the fact that Tommy was going to this. Especially since he didn’t know what it had to do with what they were talking about in the first place. “I slept with a few people before I ever got with Y/N. You know that she wasn’t my first, right? I was her first, but with me...a lot of girls wanted to hook up with me when I was younger.”

“I assumed that. You were popular, girls were falling at your feet,” Tommy recalled what it was like when Joel was in high school. “And it’s not like I couldn’t hear shit because my room was right next to yours. So while mom and dad were sleeping, I knew that you were sneaking people into your room.”

“Yeah, well your dad wouldn’t have had as much of a problem with it as you might think,” Joel swallowed down hard, his eyes gazing over at Tommy from where he was seated on the couch. It was hard to admit this to his brother when he let out a tremoring breath. “Our father is the one that got me the condoms. And he sure as hell didn’t have a problem with me sleeping around. In fact, he urged me to do it.”

“What?” Tommy snapped at Joel realizing that this was headed in a direction that he wasn’t expecting. “Joel, why would dad do that? You know that he just about ripped my head off when he found that magazine I was keeping in my room.”

“Because…” Joel paused, biting down on his bottom lip and looking toward the stairs. “Do you promise not to look at me differently if I tell you something?”

“What?” Tommy scoffed, sitting forward on the couch when he gazed over Joel. “Did you kill someone or something? Because I always thought you had it in you to do it.”

“Tommy, shut up,” Joel couldn’t help but laugh that his brother was being so ridiculous in the moment. “Please just give me a moment to say this, okay? I reckon you’ll never look at me the same again after I tell you. Because I…I hate myself for it too.”

“Okay?” Tommy didn’t know how to respond, he just listened and kept quiet like Joel asked him too.

“When I was younger, I thought I was hot shit. People really liked me. And girls were throwing themselves at me. The first time I had sex, it was awful. I mean, terrible,” Joel stressed, biting down on his bottom lip and he hit his knee. “I didn’t know if it was me or the girl because I really didn’t like her that much. I just did it because I’m a guy. There were a lot of hot girls that wanted to sleep with me and I didn’t turn them down. Some experiences were better than others. But? I uh…there was always one person I really liked.”

“Y/N?” Tommy spoke up, his head shaking about with Joel sucking in a sharp breath of air. Joel’s eyes grew damp when he looked to Tommy with a shake of his head.

“I didn’t start having feelings for her until this one day I was in class, but let me get to something else first,” Joel hushed his brother, lifting his hand up to silence Tommy so that way he couldn’t stop himself from continuing his story. “Tommy, I always liked Negan. And not just in the way that you like a friend. I crushed on girls that were like in the magazines and what not, but when I was around Negan? I just kinda felt things that I knew I shouldn’t be feeling. He’d come over to hang out and we’d watch things that we shouldn’t have been watching when no one was home. And at first, we’d just do things to ourselves. I just thought it was something that guys did together. But throughout time, we started touching each other. And this one time, dad came home early for something. He walked in on me and Negan doing that together and he…he beat the shit outta me Tommy. Calling me a fa…you know. He was so ashamed of me.”

“How did I not know about this?” Tommy asked, clearly horrified from what he was learning about the past.

“No one knew. The only people that knew were me and him. Not even mom knew. He called me that word, threw Negan out of the house and then he kicked my ass. Wanted to beat it outta me. Told me he wasn’t going to have a queer living in his house. Said I had to get my shit together because if he found me doing that again he would throw me out and take everything away from me,” Joel informed his brother, his voice breaking when he forced himself to look away from Tommy. “We came up with some stupid story about me being attacked by another kid from an opposing school so he didn’t get in trouble. The only reason Negan found out about it is because he was there when dad showed up. When I came to school looking like I did? He immediately knew. So now the only people in the world that ever knew were me, Negan, dad and you. It’s not that I was gay, I had feelings for other women throughout my life, I just…I really liked Negan. I think I knew pretty young that I had feelings for both men and women. Or Negan and women. I don’t know. Because there isn’t another guy that I’ve felt like that toward, but I don’t know if that’s because it’s how it is or because our dad beat it out of me.”

“You should have told me,” Tommy looked upset to hear that Joel went through that and Joel shrugged his shoulders. Joel was emotional about the past and it was devastating Tommy to think that Joel went through that alone. “I remember how upset mom was about the way you looked. Wanting to call the police, but dad wouldn’t let her.”

“Because he was the one that did it,” Joel released something that sounded like a whimper even though he didn’t want it to be like that. “That’s how I knew that Y/N was the love of my life. Because when I kissed her? When I slept with her. I felt something for her that I had never felt for anyone. Not even Negan. I slept with a handful of people to try to prove I wasn’t what dad thought I was, but it wasn’t until her where everything in the world felt right.”

Pausing to think about everything, Joel nervously rubbed at the back of his neck and shrugged, “You know when I was dating Tess, that I cheated on her with Y/N, right?” Joel brought up what was true to his little brother, catching the way that Tommy’s eyebrows bounced up. “We never stopped sleeping with each other Tommy. We may have been divorced, but we were never apart more than a month or two. So I didn’t completely just give up on her those four years.”

“I don’t know if that makes things worse or better Joel,” Tommy was honest with Joel about how he felt with things toward the whole Tess and Y/N situation. “She probably thought the whole time it was a sign that you still wanted to be with her, but then you never did come back. No wonder she thinks it’s because of Negan that you want to be with her.”

“I had problems,” Joel defended himself, his hand raising to place over the center of his chest. “You know just as well as me Tommy that we’re soulmates.”

“But I think Negan is her soulmate too,” Tommy was honest with Joel and for the first time he actually saw disappointment in Joel’s eyes. “Is that so wrong? Maybe…just maybe he’s your soulmate too.”

“I’m nothing compared to him,” Joel declared, his head lowering with his confession. “I have no chance if that’s really the case.”

“Yet, they both have been more than willing to include you in things,” Tommy reminded Joel, sliding in closer to his brother to give him a firm nudge. “Maybe start thinking about the positives in things. You can be alone, or you can have something which is better than nothing. And with what you just told me…? I think that’s more than enough reason to prove that this whole poly relationship thing is a great idea. After what you went through? Dad isn’t here anymore. I am. And I support you. I support you loving both of them.”

“But what about the children?” Joel’s breathing was broken and it had Tommy sucking in a sharp breath of air, his finger shakily pushing into his dark hair.

“I don’t think they’d care. They love all three of you. I think they’d be okay with it. As long as you don’t act like it’s a weird thing, I think they would accept you as you are,” Tommy stressed to his brother what he believed was true and honest. “They are good kids Joel. You raised them to be accepting of people. You never taught them to be any other way. It’d be a lot easier having the three of you together than having you separated. Let them show you that Joel.”  

“She learned the truth Tommy with what I had done,” Joel admitted to his little brother, turning to look at him with a saddened expression. “Why Negan really stopped interacting with me and her. What I did to Negan. Why I really slept with her the first time.”

“Does that matter anymore?” Tommy responded in a way that wasn’t what Joel was expecting. “Yeah, you got with her to be a douchebag, but you fell in love with her. The two of you were together sixteen years before you got divorced. Your feelings weren’t fake those sixteen years. I think she knows better than to assume that it was all just to fuck with Negan. Negan left when you were eighteen. You could have dropped it, but you didn’t because you love her.”

“I have fucked things up so much little brother,” Joel realized, dragging his hands down over the sides of his face. “I don’t even know how to fix things.”

“Try,” Tommy said one word, but the emphasis on it obviously meant something to Tommy. “Just try. That’s all that matters. Trying.”

Giving a nod, Joel didn’t know how he would even approach trying, but it wasn’t bad advice. Standing up from the couch, Joel went into the kitchen to put back the ice packs and returned to step before Tommy, “I’m going to go up to my room. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” Tommy blurt out getting Joel to look back at him over his shoulder. “I don’t want to wake up to something bad Joel.”

“I promise, I’m just going to my room to rest,” Joel swore, giving Tommy a firm nod moving toward the stairs until Tommy called out to him.

“You could have told me Joel because I would have loved you no matter what,” Tommy promised Joel, swallowing down the lump in his throat that wouldn’t go away after Joel explained to him what happened with their father. “Unlike dad, I think you have the right to be happy. And you are always gonna be my hero big brother. You were more my father than he ever was. You weren’t broken because you were attracted to both Negan and Y/N. And I look up to you even more now cus’ you were able to tell me. I love you Joel. I’m sorry you had to go through all that alone.”

Moving to the stairs, Tommy could hear the sounds of Joel’s breathing. It was broken and he was upset, turning Joel to face him, Tommy wrapped his brother up in his arms and gave him a strong, lingering hug that had Joel finally returning the hug after a few minutes.

“I think a lot of what you are going through is dad’s fault,” Tommy whispered, patting Joel at the center of the back. “You were never allowed to be you. But stop letting dad be your inside voice Joel. You’re good enough. Stop forcing yourself to be miserable. You deserve to be happy. And this is your chance.”

Swallowing down hard, Joel pulled back and away from Tommy. Patting the side of Joel’s face, Tommy gave his brother a reassuring nod, staying at the bottom of the steps when Joel started to head up toward his bedroom.

Once inside of his room, Joel kicked the door shut with the heel of his foot. A tremoring breath escaped Joel’s throat with him bringing his hands up to his face to cover it. For so long Joel had held that in and to finally tell someone had him shaking. Talking about his past had him feeling things and feeling them very strongly.

Looking to his laptop, Joel saw that it was opened and he bit down firmly on his bottom lip. This whole thing had Joel thinking about what he had done tonight to both Negan and Y/N. And then Lucille popped into his mind. Never had he really been open with anyone about the secret friendship that he had with Negan’s wife. They used to talk all the time, but when Joel separated from Y/N, they really didn’t talk as much as they used to.

Logging into his e-mail, Joel typed her name into the search bar bringing up all their messages that they shared together. Often back then they would send each other messages, videos, voice recordings and he had all of them saved.

It had been so long since he really thought about Lucille. After divorcing Y/N he got distracted. Noticing how many unread e-mails he had from her truly made him realize that. Guilt started to build up inside of him considering how quickly he abandoned that relationship once he was no longer with Y/N.

Opening a few of the messages, Joel realized most of them were just her writing him to ask how he was doing. But the final one? It was a video that he never even bothered to look at. Swallowing down hard, he opened the message and waited for the video to download. Shifting in his seat, Joel rest his elbows on the desk and bit down on his bottom lip when it started to play.

“Hey there stranger,” Lucille’s weak voice drew a labored breath from his lips. In the video she was wearing a purple wig that was shoulder length instead of having her naturally blonde hair. Leaning further back in the chair, Joel bit down on his bottom lip. It was obvious by the way her eyes looked that she was tired and weak. There was always a glow and an energy to Lucille when they spoke, but that wasn’t there. “It’s been a long time since we’ve talked and I thought I would send you this. What do you think about the area back here?”

Moving out of the way of the camera, she focused on the room that she seemed to be in, “Negan insisted that we have our own little space so we can spend all of our time together.”

Sliding back into the frame, Lucille gave what looked like to be a happy smile causing an ache at Joel’s chest, “I think he knows I don’t have much time left. He’s having a hard time with it. I’ve pretty much accepted it at this point. I’m ready. I’m too tired to fight.”

A broken breath fell from Joel’s throat, an overwhelming overflow of guilt eating away at him that he never seen this or even responded to her. And he knew that she had been dead for years now. They were friends and he did the one thing that he accused Negan of doing with Y/N and him. Abandoned her.

“We have our own little couple cave here. It’s the most doting he’s ever been. I made him go out to get me ice cream while I made this video for you. He never wants to leave my side anymore. I had to beg him to do it,” Lucille stated with another long sigh, her head shaking as she spoke. “I’m worried about him. He’s not sleeping. I think he’s scared that if he sleeps, I’m going to die and he won’t be with me.”

There were tears burning at Lucille’s eyes as she spoke, “I’m just worried about him in general. He’s not strong enough for this. I don’t know what he’s going to do when I die. I don’t think he’s going to be able to handle it.”

There was a long silence and Joel could see tears sliding down her face when she shrugged, “I need you to do something for me. I think we were wrong in keeping all of us separated. More than anything when I’m gone, I think Negan is going to need friends. People to keep him from drowning. I think he needs you and Y/N. People who really know him. So when you find out that I die, please find a way to get in contact with him Joel. I’ve appreciated this friendship that the two of us have had and I hope you can do this for me.”

Stopping the video, Joel lowered his head and let out a trembling breath. Why did he never open the fucking e-mail? Why did he avoid her after he had broken up with Y/N all those years ago? Trying to gather himself, Joel pushed forward and hit the play button to start the video back up again.

“I miss talking to you,” she declared with a nervous laugh, shrugging her shoulders as she spoke to the camera. “I wanted to give you some advice Joel. Take it or leave it from a dying woman with nothing but a small amount of time. I know that you want more in life. That you felt cheated for the things that happened to you, but I think you need to reconsider your divorce to Y/N. I was really upset with my life for a long time too, but I realized something. I loved Negan. Through and through. I always knew there was a good man deep down inside of him and he’s really proven that the last year or so. He’s the man I always knew him to be. The only thing I regret is never being able to have a family. Joel, you have the one thing I always wanted. The one thing I always longed for.”

It took a minute for Lucille to gather herself, biting down on her bottom lip with her tears sliding down her face. Wiping at them with the back of her hand, Lucille sniffled and shook her head, “A family Joel. A family that loves you endlessly. Hear it from someone who has what you would consider everything. I have everything, but when I die, I’ll have nothing to be remembered by. You had someone that loved you, children who think the world of you. I have Negan. And he’ll be the only person to keep my memory alive. And he’ll be alone. Trust me when I tell you Joel, the everything you long for…you already have it. Nothing beats love. Not money, not fame…love. Because at the end of your life you truly realize who it is you want to have with you. And I realize now that it was Negan for me.”

The sound of a door opening was heard and Lucille was looking off the screen. At the corner of the screen Joel watched Negan walking over toward the back table to set down a few bags, “I’m sorry for taking so long. I had to go to two stores just to get these. I bought you a few just in case you keep having cravings.”

Pointing her finger back toward the corner of the room in the video, Lucille smiled and whispered faintly, “Goodbye Joel. Thank you for everything.”

“What was that?” a younger Negan turned on his heel to face her with her glancing back over her shoulder. “Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” Lucille stammered before ending the video.

It had Joel sliding further down in his chair feeling the ache growing at the center of his chest. Now, not only did he regret what he had done with Y/N, he realized that he also made a huge mistake in ignoring Lucille and her messages. It made Joel wonder how long after that video Lucille passed away.

Her last message was her telling him that his family was the most important thing. And now that she was gone and it was years later, Joel realized that she was right.

Sliding in closer to the desk, Joel went through a few folders until stopping on one that he wanted. Clicking open the video, Joel focused on the lower quality video smiling when he saw Y/N holding onto a young Peter sitting by the Christmas tree come into focus.

“Look at all those presents,” Joel’s voice was younger and he turned the camera toward him to show that Elizabeth was in his arms cuddling her head in against his shoulder. This was when they were still so happy and Joel didn’t doubt his life. “It looks like Santa was very good to the both of you this year.”

Pressing a quick kiss over a younger Elizabeth’s head, Joel turned the camera back to Y/N and Peter. Peter was clapping his hands together and reached for a present to inspect it, “I wonder what you did this year to be so good.”

“We’re just good always daddy,” Elizabeth’s younger voice was heard with her being set down and running to sit by the other two next to the tree. “You know that.”

“Yes you are,” Y/N wrapped her arms around both the children hugging them close. “You both are the best. And we love you very much.”

“Daddy, come on. Come here,” Peter called out moving his hands in a dramatic motion. A rumble of a laugh from the other side of the camera fell from Joel’s throat. A moment later Joel was setting up the camera so it would frame the whole family. He walked into the frame and dropped down on the ground next to Y/N. Peppering her with kisses had her smiling and Joel truly wondered where he went wrong. What was it that made him question the love he had for his family? He had the perfect life and now he was left realizing he should have never doubted that.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis @jennydehavilland

[bring-forth-his-sac]

maybe some fluff and smut w negan where reader has scars/self harm scars and reader is like looking at them thinking about the past and negan cheers her up😋 also he’s like aggresive in bed but is sweet outside all that. also maybe some aftercare included too

thank you so so much for requesting (and for your patience!) I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Post Whisperer War Negan x f!reader

Tags: mentions of self harm, mentions of suicidal thoughts, cunnilingus, rough sex, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, aftercare

Word Count: 3.5k

The voices around you blend into a monotonous rhythm. At this point in the community meeting, they shouldn’t be surprised people are beginning to zone out as they rehash the same talking points over and over again. 

You try to force yourself to focus but it’s a losing battle. The gist of it, as Negan so eloquently said to you the other day is “At this rate, the only thing that’ll be on the menu is regret, served with a big glass of desperation… but hey, if we gotta start cannibalising each other, I have no problem eating you out”. 

That last part earned him a scoff and quick slap to the arm.

Gathering in the heart of what was once the thriving community of Alexandria, the aftermath of the Whisperer's rampage is visible everywhere. Ruined homes, scattered debris of what was once vibrant greenhouses and the scarcity of resources cast a shadow of uncertainty over everyone.

“Gabriel is already working on the vegetable patches,” Rosita takes over “but we need food. Now. So I say we raid the old military base not too far from here. We can round some people up and scavenge through there in a few days time. Daryl’s out there now, seeing if it’s worth it”.

You sit quietly on the porch steps to one of the only houses left habitable, staring down at the scars that map your hands and lead up one of your forearms.

It’s been a while since you’ve truly stopped and studied each one, every line acting as a reminder of a time when pain felt like the only answer. 

You trace the lines with your fingertips, the blurry memories of these desperate moments slowly coming back to you. Back then, it was a release and the only way to stop the chaos swirling inside your mind. You remember the fleeting relief that followed, how it dulled the aching inside, if only for a moment. 

In a twisted way, it’s quite funny. You’ve fought so hard to stay alive since the dead began to rise and yet you would still do this, still hurt yourself.

How ironic.

You let out a small sigh, shifting your gaze up to watch Rosita again and pretend like you’re listening. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve self harmed or even had those thoughts. It feels dangerous to think about though, as if thinking back to those memories is like walking a tightrope of temptation. 

“If you’re interested in going to the military base, talk to me or Carol about it,” Rosita begins to finally wrap up the meeting “if not, then go speak to Gabriel or Aaron about helping with the rebuild. We gotta all work on this, no slacking. That’s the only way Alexandria can survive”. You nod vaguely to her words and thankfully, the meeting ends. 

As everyone disperses, you stay seated on the porch steps. Your mind feels foggy as it struggles to fully return to the present moment.

Thoughts of the past continue to tug at your consciousness, lingering like a bad smell. A sigh escapes your lips as you run a hand down your face, your eyes immediately going back to the scars that litter your arm. 

“You buffering or something?” The question completely catches you off guard, the deep voice coming from behind you. 

You already know who it is, of course you do, especially since you’re one of the only people he ever approaches— mainly because he knows you won’t tell him to fuck off… without good reason.

“I can’t just sit and enjoy the view?” you bat back, your prior feelings instantly getting masked with a facade of sass. 

Negan leaves the safety of the doorway now that it’s just the two of you. He grunts softly as he sits beside you, looking out at the remains of Alexandria.

 “... what view?” he asks dryly.

You roll your eyes. “Jackass” you curse him playfully.

He watches you out of the corner of his eye for a few moments, silently debating how to go about this. “You catch everything that was said in the meeting?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

Negan doesn’t exactly understand why but he always finds himself drifting over to you, his gaze flickering between you and whatever he’s supposed to be paying attention to. And the past few minutes of the meeting has been a very obvious case of depressive daydreaming, something he’s seen you slip into every once in a while.

“Hm? Yeah,” you shrug casually, glancing over at him.

He waits, wondering if you’ll crack and open up on your own. When you don’t, he tries again.

“You got notes written out on the lines on your arm?” Negan gestures to your scars, being as blunt as possible about it. 

Automatically covering your arm with your other hand, you shoot him a glare. Negan has always somehow toed the line, knowing how direct he can be without upsetting you too much. 

He doesn't push; he simply tests the waters before backing down and letting you take the lead. Negan quickly put his hands up in surrender. He knew there was no easy way of mentioning your scars but the sooner he addresses it, the sooner you’ll talk. 

He’s expecting a slap or to be cussed out for mentioning it but instead, you stand and march into the house.

It’s your natural reaction to flee the second someone mentions your scars, something you’ve done even when others simply looked in the direction of your arm.

He groans out your name, instantly standing to follow. “Don’t just walk off,” he follows you inside, silently thankful that the house is empty, everyone else out working for the day “you know I didn’t mean it like that… well, you know I didn’t mean to offend ya”.

You pause, debating with yourself on what to do. You opt to look down at the floor, unsure how to feel about the sudden confrontation.

"Listen, I get it. I saw ya eyeballin’ your arm for half the meeting and not to get all mushy and shit, but those scars don’t define you” Negan's expression shifts, giving way to something more sincere. He steps closer, his tone dropping to a softer register.

“They’re not a mark of weakness or worthlessness or whatever bullshit you tell yourself. They show you survived. You’ve got grit and I admire that more than anything.” He reaches out, gently grasping your chin to tilt your face toward his.

Despite every inch of you wanting to run again, you look up. The warmth in his eyes is undeniable and as much as you want to sink further into your defences, you can feel them slowly melt away.

You've always been a fortress in life, sturdy and unyielding. Every brick laid was a lesson learned, or another wound healed. 

You've perfected the art of keeping people at arm's length, never letting them see the cracks that run beneath the surface. In today’s world, vulnerability feels like a foreign language and one you've continuously avoided speaking.

“And if you ever need to remind yourself just how strong you are,” Negan continues, dropping his hand back down to his side “I’m right here, darlin’” 

You smile at his valiant offer and before you can stop it, you slowly open up “I just… sometimes, even when I don’t want to do those things again, I still think back to it. It’s like I’m reminiscing… and it can be hard to decipher whether my brain is thinking back because I want to be back there again or because I’m relieved I’m not…”. 

You brace for the impact, scanning for the possible retreat in Negan’s eyes but instead, you see nothing but understanding.

“You don’t think I feel like that now that I’m a supposed free man?” He asks softly “Even now, there’s still days —usually when I get the hundredth dose of stink eye thrown towards me— that I wonder if I’d be better off disappearing back into that cage. Even though I fuckin’ hated being in there!”. 

A strange sensation almost overwhelms you. The tension in your shoulders strangely ease and for the first time in ages, you're both not just survivors forced to endure; you're simply you and Negan is simply Negan.

Both of you flawed, real, and human. In his presence, vulnerability seems like less of a burden and more of a shared strength.

The air crackles with unspoken words and electric energy. You can almost taste the bittersweet mix of apprehension and desire. It's suffocating and you know you need an escape… but not by running away. 

As you look into his eyes, something shifts within you. The world outside fades and all that matters is in this room. Right now, you want to cast aside any doubts and just embrace the thrill. 

In a quick move, you step closer to him, invading his personal space. The sombre glint in Negan’s eyes transforms into something deeper.

Without thinking, you reach for him, fingers brushing against his arm and igniting a spark that sends a shiver through you both. Surprise flickers past his face before that signature grin breaks through, wide and knowing. 

You lean in closer, your voice barely above a whisper. “This has all been… a lot…” you begin, unsure how exactly you’re about to say this “and I think… I think I might just need—“

Negan doesn’t give you time to finish that sentence, your urge towards him telling him all he needs to know.

In one swift motion, he pulls you flush against him, his lips finding yours in a kiss that ignites a wildfire of emotion. It’s a blend of urgency and tenderness, a collision of passion that leaves you breathless. 

It’s dizzying, the way he makes you feel seen, even if it’s just for this heartbeat in time. You let yourself be swept away, surrendering to the connection that pulls you both together.

“Oh I know exactly what you need“ Negan mutters against your lips.

You pull him into another bruising kiss before egging him on further “Then show me”.

That’s all Negan needs, your request allowing him to let loose. Capturing your lips in another kiss, he slowly begins moving forward, forcing you back until you hit against a table. He grabs your waist and lifts you up onto it, his hands immediately going for the zip of your pants.

He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “You just sit back,” he instructs, pleased as you lift your hips and let him tug down your jeans, not stopping until they’re on the floor beside him “let me take care of everything, baby”.

In an instant, Negan is kneeling between your thighs, pressing soft kisses along both legs. You can feel the warmth gather at your core, immediately wanting to welcome every inch of him.

“Ready to turn off your brain for a bit? Hmm?” Looking up at you through his eyelashes, Negan places a gentle kiss on your clothed pussy. 

He tries not to smirk as he feels your pussy pulsing desperately for him. Letting out a whimper, you nod.

“Ah ah ah,” Negan tuts, his tone as soft as it can be despite his scolding words “you made me wait a long fuckin’ time to show you a good time, you damn well know I’m not going to dig in until I hear you say it”. 

“Fuck– Negan, yes,” you say breathlessly, glancing at the door as you do “please, I want you”. Even with how exposed you are, your mind is too hazy to care about the possibility of someone walking in. All your attention is on Negan’s breath that’s only a mere few centimetres away from your soaked pussy.

Kissing you through your panties again, Negan hooks a finger around the fabric and slowly pulls it to the side, carefully revealing his gift.

Without a second thought, he buries his face between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips firmly to keep you from squirming away. 

You gasp loudly, not expecting so much contact so quickly. You bite your lip to quieten your moans but it’s no use.

He looks up at you with his mouth full of your pussy, his eyes gleaming with desire. He sucks harder, his tongue flicking rapidly against your clit. 

He releases his hands from your hips to rub your ass, pulling you against his face. Mumbling against your most sensitive area, a shiver runs up your spine as he compliments “Mmm, best fuckin’ meal I’ve had in years.”

Your legs quiver as you get closer to the edge, your core helplessly clenching around nothing as he eats you out. He’s determined, you’ll give him that. And the one thing Negan wants now more than anything is to taste your release on his tongue.  

“Come for me, doll” he growls encouraging, his stubble scratching your inner thighs. 

With a series of whines and moans for more, you let go.

He keeps his face between your thighs, lapping up your essence as you come undone. Negan waits until you've stopped convulsing before he lifts his head up, wiping your gleaming juices away from his mouth with the back of his hand.

He grins up at you, happy with his work. “Well, you wanted me…” he trails off purposefully, taking a moment to plant a kiss on your leg before giving a slight tug at your panties that are still pushed out of the way “so now you’re gonna get me”.

Negan hurriedly unbuckles his pants as he stands, freeing his hard cock and giving himself a few strokes, precum already dripping from the tip. Working in tandem, you yank down your panties and drop them next to your jeans. 

Before your panties have time to hit the floor, Negan’s kissing you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. You immediately wrap your legs around his waist, both of you as impatient at the other.

“This what you wanted, huh?” Negan continues to talk, rubbing the head of his cock against your slick entrance, “this the distraction you were looking for?”.

You speak only in moans, going wild at the sensation of his cock being so close to your centre and yet still so far away from actually being inside of you. 

He cups your chin, making you maintain eye contact as he presses you for an answer “I can’t hear you, sweetness”.

“Please, just do it” you pant, still not over your initial high.

He grins wider at your compliance and slowly pushes into you, his eyes locked onto yours. Your body tenses as he stretches you out in a way that borders on painful. “Negan,” his name leaves your mouth as a haggard breath.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart, you know you’re ready for it, you can take it” he coos, pushing all the way in before he stops to give you time to adjust.

He groans as he fully sheaths himself inside you, his hips flush against yours. Attempting to be a gentleman, Negan starts slow.

His eyes leave yours, watching as he gradually pulls out. He grunts satisfactorily, filling you to the hilt again. 

“Please,” you whimper “don’t tease”.

Negan chuckles, though his restraint is weakening “Patience is a virtue, darlin’”.

You tilt your head back, the slow force of Negan inside of you making your brain melt. All you want is already inside of you but it’s not enough. This isn’t a time for sweet love making. 

You want to be fucked, plain and simple.

“Yeah and you’re a vice so fuck me already,” you nudge the heel your foot against his ass, trying to make him speed up. Negan smirks again, his ego adoring your words.

The table creaks under you when he picks up the pace, the wet sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the room. 

"You can take it, can’t you? Fuck yeah, I know you can" He captures your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as he continues to pound into you. 

You nod desperately, wanting to prove to him that you can take all he’s got to give. He hooks his arms under your knees, spreading you wider and increasing his depth.

His movements become harder and faster, making sure you can feel every inch of him. You yearn it, trying desperately to shimmy your hips on the table to meet each thrust.

Negan pistons into you like a man on a mission, burying his face in by your neck as his hands frantically begin to explore your body. Negan knows he won’t last much longer, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take this opportunity to finally see your tits. 

His hands push up your shirt, hiking it up in a hurry as your bra comes into view. “Wanna introduce me to the girls?” He suggests, his breath coming out in hot pants against your neck.

At this moment, you want everything just as much as he does. Reaching down, you lift up your bra just enough for your breasts to come free.

Even though there’s no rush, it feels as though you don’t have the time to take off your bra properly, feeling that coil tighten in your lower stomach.

His eyes drop to your chest, and he licks his lips hungrily. “Goddamn, just when I thought you couldn’t get any better” Negan cups your breasts roughly, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he continues to fuck into you. He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.

“Oh my fucking—” you groan out, interupting yourself with another moan. You grip the edge of the table enough to turn your knuckles white, your whole body feeling overwhelmed.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop and straightens up, his thumb trailing down to your swollen clit.

“C’mon darlin’, I need to feel ya clench around me,” Negan slams into you, his rhythm erratic as he nears his own release “one more time, baby, come for me”. 

Your body convulses as it hits you. Gasps morph into a wave of quick, sharp pants as you clutch Negan any way you can. Feeling your pussy clamp down on his shaft, Negan’s hips sputter to a stop as the contractions send him over the edge with you.

It takes all of Negan’s willpower not to stay exactly how he is; with his dick buried deep inside of you. 

But he knows better and quickly pulls out, releasing his load onto your inner thigh instead. He has to nuzzle his face in by your neck, silencing himself the best he can. The last thing either of you need is Negan to get loud and attract people from outside.

The sound of your mixed breaths fill the room as you both come back to your senses. You look down at the mess on your thigh, wondering how much longer you both have until someone comes looking for one of you. 

“You know what?” Negan breaks the silence, a sheen of sweat across his forehead as he moves to look at you “I think I like it when you open up”. He nudges your legs, a deep chuckling escaping him.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes “and get me a towel or something”. He licks his lips, his mind already wondering what your next session will be like, subtly noting how much he likes hearing you order him around. 

He nods “Yes ma’am”.

Leaning down, Negan searches the back pockets of his pants before pulling out a small handkerchief.

“Now,” he announces as he gently wipes his cum off of your thigh “my cum rag can become ours”.

“Negan!” You exclaim, your hands busy yanking your bra and shirt back down to push the rag away from you “Don’t use your dirty cum rag on me!!”. 

Negan chuckles, his smile alone keeping your annoyance at bay. “I’m just fucking with ya, it ain’t a cum rag,” he wipes the last drop of himself off your leg “but now that we’ve christened it as a cum rag, I guess that means we'll have to use it again”. 

Negan winks as if you don’t get the obvious insinuation and before you can object, he kisses you. You’re quick to reciprocate, knowing that there’s no way you’d turn down an opportunity like this again.

A faint smirk graces his face as Negan pulls back, pleased with the fact that you returned his kiss.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Negan clears his throat “But seriously, next time you need to talk to somebody, or open up them legs, I’m your man”. 

You smile at the sincerity of his words, knowing he’s completely and utterly serious about both offers. 

Thinking for a moment, you agree “I will”. 

He holds up his pinky “Promise? And then I’ll help you into your jeans?”. 

You scoff as if he’s inconveniencing you by making you a pinky promise but you both know you appreciate the gesture. Lifting your pinky up to his, they hook together.

“Promise”.

And with that, Negan steals one more kiss before helping you back into your jeans.

[pretty-circa006]

Pie

Negan x F! Reader

summary Negan fucks you when you try to bake a pie tags slight breeding kink, unprotected p in v, vaginal fingering, pet names, pussy eating, not proofread

wc 1.4k

note just finished a little wip i had sitting around. got the idea when i was listening to stargirl interlude, so maybe you wanna listen to that while reading

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

Negan was a great cook. It wasn't a well known fact considering he was a rather busy man with leading the Saviors and all. Occasionally, he'd make dinner for his wives and those were always her favorite days. And since last night was one of those nights, she wanted to do something to return the favor. 

So here she was in the kitchen, flour dusted her classy black dress and her fingers were sticky with pie filling as she worked on rolling out the dough for the pie's crust. This pie was going to be her way of thanking Negan for being such a good husband—at least to her. 

"What's all this?" she heard him ask from the entryway. 

"I'm baking you a 'thank you' pie," she replied as she lined the pie pan with the crust. 

"Thank you pie? The hell’s a 'thank you' pie?" 

"I dunno, just my way of showing you that I lo- appreciate you." She poured some of the apple filling into the crust, hoping he didn't catch her almost mistake.

"Well aren't you a sweetheart," he said wrapping his arms around her. His salt and pepper beard tickled her neck as he pressed kisses to it, ignoring her lighthearted pleas for him to stop distracting her. As she cut the leftover dough into strips, Negan reached over and scooped some pie filling from the bowl before sucking it off his finger. 

"Mmm! This is fuckin' delicious, baby," he rasped into her ear. Her cheeks warmed at the compliment. "Glad you like it." The kisses he was leaving on her neck grew more sensual –open mouthed with nips here and there– as she did her best to lay the lattice pattern with the dough atop the pie. His hands drifted from her hips down to her upper thighs where his hands slid beneath her dress, slowly lifting it until it was bunched up at her hips. She did her best to pretend like she wasn't distracted and continue to lay the pattern on top of the pie, but really, his touches were arousing her. 

"What're you doin'?" she asked him once his fingers looped around the waistband of her panties. He was too busy kissing down her shoulder to answer, but she had the feeling he wouldn't have answered anyway. In one fell swoop he yanked her panties down before his hand wedged its way between her legs. She let out a whimper, but otherwise continued with the pie. He began rubbing tight circles over her clit as he licked and sucked at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Her breathing grew shallow as her resolve began to fade. Restrained whimpers escaped her lips, but that wasn't good enough for him. 

"I wanna hear you, doll," he ordered. Her answer came out in the form of a breathy moan once he slipped a thick finger into her soaking pussy. Her hands gripped the counter as his finger glided in and out the spongy walls of her cunt. He inserted another and the gentle stretch felt so good. His thumb rubbed quick circles on her clit as he fingered her. Her thighs squeezed his hand as her hips ground onto his hand. With his foot, he nudged her legs further apart before increasing his pace. 

“Negan, please, I’m close,” she wantonly whined between pants. He pulled away from her neck with an audible pop, leaving what she was sure would be a sizable mark. He removes his fingers from her cunt which earned a displeased pout from her. She was about to object, but was cut off when he turned her to face him. Beneath his gaze, her entire body felt like it was on fire, especially between her legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her lips for a kiss. His hands slid up her body, beneath her dress, feeling her body wherever his hands could reach. His tongue slid between her smooth lips and she tangled her fingers in his hair as sigs and moans crossed between their lips, merging into one sound in their kiss. He lifted her before setting her onto a free space on the countertop. In need of breath, he pulled away from the kiss. Instead of going back to her lips, he kissed down her jaw, to her neck, then her collarbones before unzipping the back of her dress and sliding the straps down her shoulders. He lowered himself to his knees, looking at her with a smirk on his face as he did so, and spread her thighs open. Her cunt was practically leaking, desperate to be filled by the man beneath her, and my god he thought it looked delicious. He kissed his way up her leg, starting from her ankle, until he got to her inner thighs, right in front of where she wanted him most. He nipped and sucked at the soft flesh until he had her whimpering. 

“Please, Negan, I need you!” She begged, desperate for some attention on her neglected cunt. Finally, his soft lips surround her clit, sucking it gently for a moment before he pulls away. His warm, wet tongue licked a stripe between her folds, tasting her arousal directly from the source. Her fingers weave through his greying hair, pulling him deeper into her pussy. She finally got what she wanted when his tongue entered her hole. She leaned back, supporting her weight on her arms from behind. She threw her head back in a pleasured haze as his tongue worked magic on her pussy. The warm muscle worked its way around her velvety walls and pressed against her g-spot as his lips were practically making out with her lower ones. Her cunt squeezed his tongue and nails scratched at the countertop as she reached her peak with a scream of his name. His beard was glistening with her juices when he pulled away, a wide dimpled smile plastered on his face.

“Doll, you’re so delicious I almost forgot about that goddamn pie.” She giggled, smiling at him as she slid off the countertop. She was about to wash her hands and resume fixing the pie, but Negan stopped her in her tracks. 

“Oh I’m not done with you,” he growled. 

“But what about the pie?” She asked feigning innocence, batting her eyelashes.  She didn’t really care about the pie and it was obvious by the way she was undoing his belt buckle. 

“Forget that goddamn pie and bend over, babydoll.” He eyed her bare, plump ass as he freed his hardened cock from his pants. He slid it up and down her slick folds before lining it up with her needy cunt. He slid in almost effortlessly, his large dick stretching her hole, but filling her up perfectly. 

“This pussy was made for me,” he moans. His large hands hold her hips as he thrusts roughly into her, desperately wanting to reach his own orgasm. The sound and smell of sex filled the kitchen as he plowed into her from behind. Her head hung low as she cried his name over and over, nothing else on her mind but the man filling her. Tears from overstimulation flowed down her face as pleasure overtook her. Negan’s cock twitched inside of her, his own orgasm rapidly approaching.

“God you feel so good, baby. Can’t wait to fill this pussy.” The next thing that fell from her mouth was just garbled gibberish and lewd moans, but he knew that meant she’s close. He leans down over her body and intertwines his hands with the backs of hers. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear and pressed gentle kisses to the side of her head as he shot his load into her abused cunt at the same time she reaches her second orgasm. 

“You did so good for me, angel. Such a good girl,” he cooed as he slowly softened inside of her. 

After he pulled out of her,  he helped her get redressed, but by then she was too spent to even care about the pie. 

thank you for reading! <3

[bluemerakis]

┌── ˚*❀*̥˚ ─── ˚*̥❀*˚ ──┐

✐ᝰ bluemerakis

┗━━• ❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃ •━━┛

❝ nothing left to lose ❞

⤷ Word count: 5.2k

It’s that time of the month (yippeee) and my hormones are all over the place. And then I found this gif and I just need this man to hold me this way because I feel like it could solve a world crisis. Thank you.

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PAIRINGS:

S7!Negan x fem!reader

WARNINGS:

Cussing, fluff, mentions of reader on her period, tame cutesie stuff

SYNOPSIS:

It had been another fairly quiet day as you lounged about the Sanctuary, your mood only dampened by the first day of your period. You were perfectly content to dwell in your bed and rot away for the remainder of the week, not so eager to do much else when the twisting and contracting of your stomach was so prominent, but those plans are set awry when Negan makes a stop at your room with his usual request for a good time.

When you enlighten him on your situation, he decides he’d like to stay regardless and indulge in your company, revealing a side to him you weren’t aware he had.

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It had been roughly a month since a group of saviours had scavenged you from your pathetic life of living off the woods. You’d been practically half-starved when the saviours had found you, a pitiful amalgamation of skin and bones that served no purpose other than to earn their ridicule. They’d have put you down and served you up as walker deterrent for their borders had it not been for one of the men recognising your face.

You’d been tracking the Sanctuary’s dealings for quite some time then, successfully managing to map out their routines and planning sparse trips to steal a few supplies from the pick up points. You’d had a few close calls, but even then you were like a goddamn shadow, in and out quicker than a blink. The men had never managed to catch you—up until that day, at least. The man had insisted you be dragged back to the Sanctuary, where Negan would hear of your actions and decide the best manner to make you atone for them.

Much to everybody’s surprise, though, he’d been oddly impressed with your skill—despite it being a massive leech on their supplies. His anger was more directed at the inability for his men to contain your posed threat, especially since you were no more than ‘a ghost of a woman’. You’d decided to ignore the implied misogyny in his words, instead focusing on the relief in his decision to spare your life—tied to the condition that you become his wife, of course. You’d reluctantly obliged, acutely aware of how the title would come to violate your own morals at some point, but he’d promised good treatment and up until now, he’d been nothing but true to his word.

The murmur of a light rain trailed through the crack of your partially opened window, infusing the atmosphere of your dim room with a further sense of serenity. You were curled up between the sheets of your bed, lounging on your aching stomach as you paged through your book of the week—a one thousand-paged hardcover on the tragedy of wars. It didn’t play into your usual tastes—it was far from it, actually, but there were so few options available that you couldn’t afford to be picky. It was amazing, really, what things you could convince yourself to indulge in when you were burdened with nothing but free time.

When you’d decidedly punished your stomach—and your mind—enough, you sluggishly rolled onto your side with a groan, flipping the book closed in the process. You didn’t think you could endure another mention of forced cannibalism, and you were only two hundred-odd pages into the historical hell. You doubted you’d find the strength to power through this pick, never having been much of a history fan to begin with.

Your back was turned on the book now, and there it stayed out of sight and out of mind as your eyes fluttered closed around a pressing series of cramps. You instinctively tucked into the foetal position, as though it would somehow lovingly cradle your stomach cramps and encourage it to ease off its painful hold. When the sensation didn’t budge, you opted for resting your eyes, allowing darkness to consume you as you fried to focus on the pattering of the rain against your window. In a way, nature had always been a mother, the rain her very own gentle lullaby that encouraged warmth and a long, peaceful sleep. You’d never get tired of that particular song.

A string of impatient knocks booted your door. You’d barely managed to open your eyes and give permission to enter before you heard the wood creek open, heavy footsteps striking the floor for only a few moments before silence re-emerged. Your head remained pressed against your pillow, your eyes squinting against the dim air as you managed to make out the tall figure of Simon. His arms were crossed against his chest as he glared at you motionlessly through the haze. You didn’t offer the courtesy of sitting up to greet him, which is as much as he’d offered by not waiting for your answer at the door.

“What?” You demanded, the echo of your voice damped by the downfall of rain.

“You know what,” Simon answered bluntly with that coarse annoyance edging his tone. “I don’t make a habit of visiting you for fun. If I’m here, it’s cause Negan’s in the mood for your goods.”

“God,” you groaned, finally lifting your head to properly glare at Simon. “Don’t ever say that again.” You settled for turning onto your back, your head upturned to face the white ceiling. There was a brief moment of silence before you sighed and said, “tell Negan that I’ll be unavailable for the next week.”

“Unavailable?” Simon echoed with a scoff. “You got some other plans we don’t know about?”

“Just my period, dipshit,” you responded thinly before lifting your hand in a shooing gesture. “Now scoot.”

Much to your dismay, Simon’s footsteps seemed to grow closer instead of further, and moments later his silhouette appeared at the foot of your bed. You felt a spark of annoyance at his insistence—the blood that quite literally poured from your insides left you little patience for social interactions.

“You think a little blood’s gonna deter Negan?” The man asked you, his tone mocking at the idea that you could be so stupid. “You’ve seen the guy, he can’t go a single day without that shit smeared all over him. Matters little to him how the blood is obtained—you know?”

You did. Murder and women, the two things Negan couldn’t absolutely ever have his fill of. But you also knew that you’d never been the one to frolic around while on your period, a fact that Negan would have to make peace with. Not only did you find it unappealing, but needlessly messy, too, and you’d rather not spend the aftermath of it all wringing your sheets out. No, your answer was final.

“You’re ruining my peace,” you told Simon pointedly, your eyes still studying the beams that reached between the walls of your room and upheld your pointed ceiling. When he didn’t seem to falter from his position, you sat yourself up with a huff, your fingers clutching your propped up knees. “Tell Negan that I politely decline his request—that is, if you have the balls to. Clearly you’ve got some reservations since you’re still loitering in my room after my many invitations for you to take your leave.”

Simon ignored your jest, running his hand across his hair to tame rogue strands. “He ain’t gon’ take nicely to your answer, sweetheart,” he said.

The pet name made your stomach curl beyond the cramps. “He’ll get over it when he gets on-top of the next wife.”

“Nah,” the man disagreed, rubbing a hand across his moustache. “You know he’s got some special obsession with you. You’ve been here for what—less than a month? Yet you’ve already left quite a mark on the boss-man.” He paused as his gaze lowered across you. “Can’t say I get the charm beyond your beckoning tits and ass.”

You glowered at his crudeness. “Gross, Simon. This is why you’re going to die alone, and the only hint of action you’ll ever experience is the caress of that explosion of bad taste stuck beneath your nose.”

Simon looked briefly offended by your dig at his stash, his jaw evidently clenched around his reckless temper, but he didn’t dare to unleash his fist or tongue. One of the few perks of being Negan’s wife was that you were awarded the opportunities to condescend his men time and time again, yet they were completely helpless in returning the sentiment—that is if they wanted to remain in goodwill at Negan’s side as opposed to being plastered along Lucille’s length.

“I’ll let Negan know,” was all that Simon offered before he departed your room, clearly eager to preserve what little dignity he had left. He made a point to slam the door behind him, which only made you chuckle.

Oh men and their fragile egos.

You could hardly believe they’d been made to rule the earth when their entire masculinity could so easily collapse at their rejected cock. You eased yourself back against the mattress, unable to help the faint smirk spread across your lips as your eyes fluttered closed once more. You were prepared for your second attempt at a nap, the rain growing progressively louder beyond a light drizzle. You remembered seeing the swath of grey clouds stretched across the horizon like an impending doom when you’d opened your windows this morning. It seemed that they’d finally arrived to deliver their promise of a heavy downpour.

It wasn’t long before the hum of the rain became distorted by your amassing fatigue, sleep arriving hastily to claim what remnants of your consciousness remained. You had surrendered all control, so eager to melt into the peaceful expanse of black where you could leave behind your mortal pain. You’d barely been gifted half an hour of that haven before Negan’s voice tethered you and withdrew you from the dark breaches of your mind, your eyes flickering open. You hadn’t even even heard him enter the bedroom.

“Holdin’ up there, sweetheart?”

The second greeting of his presence came at the menacing outline of Lucille, remarkably propped along his broad shoulder as he idled a few steps from the foot of your bed. You drew a clumsy palm across your tired eyes, attempting to chase away the drowsiness that clung heavily to your lids.

“Did something get lost in translation?” You managed to say, your voice slightly abraded by grogginess.

“Not the warm greeting a man expects to hear from his wife after a long and shit-filled day,” Negan said with a sultry gruffness, moving to take up a seat beside your torso.

The mattress dipped beside you, prompting you to turn your head and glance at him. “I’m sure one of the other girls can pick up my slack,” you suggested bluntly.

Your disinterest only seemed to earn that all-knowing smirk from Negan. “Goddammit, woman, you’ve got balls,” he remarked though that wide grin, his head slightly cocked to properly glimpse your face. He lowered Lucille from his shoulder, his hands propping onto the hilt as he planted the bat against the ground and leaned his weight onto it. “And that’s exactly why you’re my favourite wife. Hell, you even got me to walk the extra mile just to come and see you.”

“Not on purpose,” you sighed dejectedly, your eyes wandering along the glinting folds of his leather jacket. He did look good in that jacket—not that you’d ever milk his ego by admitting it. “If Simon truly had the nerve to refer my answer, you’d know that coming here was a waste of time. You’re going to have to fill your blood quota elsewhere.”

“Ah, come on,” he drawled, his gaze unrelenting through those darn hypnotising eyes of his. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but ain’t a good poking of the colons a great way to relieve some of the pain?” He asked pointedly. “In other words, you ought to let me fuck those asshole cramps right outta you. What’s a little blood, anyways?”

At that statement, you couldn’t help the flit of your eyes toward Lucille, the object always so menacing even when benched on the sidelines. You dragged your attention back to Negan’s expectant expression with a beleaguered sigh. “I don’t care what you get off on, Negan,” you told him. “Have your bloody fill of it anywhere else, but not here. I said no, and I meant it.”

You half expected him to further knead at the angle he was currently working, eventually wearing you down to a state that could almost be called consent—what more could you expect from a sadistic, murderous fanatic? A sudden cramp displaced that particular trail of thought, causing you to discreetly tense your lower half, inside of your lip taken into bite as an instinctual coping mechanism.

Negan’s head tilted back slightly with a trace of a chuckle, his tongue then poking through to glide along his lower lip as he gazed at you through narrowly thoughtful eyes. “All right,” he relented—much to your surprise. Had somebody knocked Negan out cold on the way here and taken his place? “If you’re going to deny my very eager balls a pleasurable time, the least you can do is entertain me with a conversation.”

You challenged the weight of his stare—ever so flirtatious regardless of the circumstances. “You’ve literally enslaved an entire selection of women,” you pointed out crassly. “Go bother one of them instead.”

“Enslaved?” He repeated, his eyebrows perched on a look of incredulity. “I didn’t enslave any one of those women. I’m a fair man—I believe in free will and I always honour my word. I weigh the options, I offer a choice—” he lifted one hand to gesture to himself, “—and they made their choice.”

“After you coerced them,” you said around a thick yawn, blinking away the moisture along your eyes as you focused your growing alertness on him. You sat yourself up with a muffled grunt, ignoring the sharp pains that struck your stomach with the movements. “You’re not a democrat. You’re just a bully with an unhealthy attachment to a bat. It’s like Negan’s version of Bonnie and Clyde.”

Negan fixated you with a long look, his expression ever so unrelenting on what thoughts were passing through that tainted mind of his. “You’ve got an awful lotta spunk for somebody actin’ like she’s on her deathbed,” he deflected, a short moment of silence following shortly after. “What about you—girl who knows what she wants and doesn’t take shit from the next gapin’ asshole?”

“What about me?”

“Did I coerce you, too?” He inquired huskily, his eyes narrowing in an almost dare for you to answer honestly.

You hadn’t ever needed much convincing to speak your mind. “Absolutely,” you answered simply, then paused before adding, “have you honestly managed to convince yourself that either one of your wives want to be here?” Your head was slightly tilted out of sheer curiosity, amazed at how painfully naive he appeared to be—for once.

Negan’s lips were spread thin with a smirk, parting as he said, “I appreciate your honesty. Although I’d be lying if I said I ain’t a tad bit hurt.”

A severe cramp seized your stomach, causing you to throw your face into your pillow. “Oh, you don’t know hurt, Negan,” you groaned. “If you truly had the capacity to feel, please be so kind as to spare me your company so that I can rot away in peace.”

He straightened up from the Lucille’s prop, his expression becoming inquisitive. “All right, I’ll leave,” he eased off, attention dropping to his lap, where he carefully rested the bat and stroked suggestively at her barbwire-infused wooden length. “And I guess I’ll be takin’ these with me,” he added, one hand dipping into his leather jacket to pull out a small, plastic cylinder labelled ibuprofen.

Your eyes practically bulged at the offering. Pain medication was strictly reserved for post-surgical cases and the physically wounded—those marred by gunshot wounds, blades, or even brute fists—you name it. That was Negan’s self-imposed rule. In this dying world, pain medication certainly wasn’t a medical luxury extended to lesser problems like a woman’s period pains—despite the entire gender technically being a victim of the repeated assault of severe period cramps. For at least a week of every month. For at least five decades of their lives.

“The fuck?” You murmured, hand reaching for the medication as though needing to feel it’s physical form to believe it’s existence.

Negan plucked it out of reach with a shit-eating grin. “You want it?” He taunted, propping his elbow onto his knee as he rattled the container between his fingers.

Your hand hesitated mid-air, expression becoming bleary as you hesitantly asked, “what’s it gonna cost me?”

“Question of the century,” he answered vaguely, intense stare beating down on you. He looked almost scheming, and that wasn’t a strange mask to wear—not for Negan Smith. But for once, his actions surprised you in a way that wasn’t coupled by repulsion. “Y’know, you’re a pain in my ass, ‘cause I can’t help but have a soft spot for girls like you—all feisty and opinionated and sure as hell ready to give my big balls a real good talking to.” The hand which clutched the medication gravitated toward you, offering it up without the tether of debt. “On the house, since I’m the boss man around here callin’ all the big, bloody shots.”

Your eyes narrowed cautiously, your hand slowly reaching to acquire your personal saving grace. You half expected Negan to yank it away as a feat of ridicule, but his hand remained steadfast, his expression eerily intense as he overlooked your internal war with a light undertone of amusement quirking the corner of his lips.

“Ya want it, or not?”

You took it from his grasp, bringing it closer to examine the legitimacy of the label. “I’m the only thorn in your foot because everybody else is scared of you,” you said distractedly, eyes then flickering from the medication to meet his idling stare.

Negan adjusted his torso to appear taller, Lucille slipping between his thighs to prod the floor under his guiding grip. “But not you,” he reaffirmed.

“I used to be.”

“Yeah?” He husked, eyes narrowed interestedly, tongue momentarily poking through his grin—as it so often did. “The hell’s changed? Real world toughen you up? Ya got a pair o’ steel down there now?”

You brushed aside his snark. “Nothing’s changed, really,” you admitted, attention drifting as you popped open the lid of the container. “But I’ve got nothing left to lose, and the worst you could do is make jam out of my brains.” You dispensed a tablet into your palm, then clicked the lid closed. “But you won’t,” you stated, meeting his gaze boldly.

Negan’s head tilted with a far too entertained air. “Why’s that?”

“Same reason you’re here. I’m your favourite wife, apparently—and what’s a man like you to do without his wife? You might just implode without a place to stick it,” you jabbed. “I’m always the one you come running to with all your shit—god knows why.”

“I gotta say, that’s mighty cocky of you,” he drawled through a grin, hand moving to whisk across his bearded jaw. “And that’s comin’ from me.”

You offered him the ibuprofen, a ghost of a cheeky-lipped grin setting in. “Force of habit when I’m obliged to be at your side every other hour of the day. Honestly, you only have yourself to blame.”

His grin widened, eyes leering you over before dipping to the container you re-offered him. “Nah,” he murmured. “Keep it. And not a word ‘bout it—I ain’t got time for ants up my ass when the other gals get wind of the shit I ain’t doin’ for them.”

“That supposed to make me feel special?” You jested. “Or just a threat?”

Negan’s lip hitched with a smirk—silent ambiguity, and reached a hand into his pocket to procure a fresh orange, bottled water and a packet of chips—your favourite chips. “That shit’ll put ya in a grave on an empty stomach,” he averted, chin jutting to the pill in your palm. He leaned over to place the snacks on the bedside table, offering you a sidelong glance. “I know your panties get all hot for this stale sack of shit,” he said, beckoning to your chips, then added, “and the orange will keep up that energy of yours—y’know, boost the spirit and fuel that friskiness o’ yours.”

You scowled indignantly as he took a swipe at your taste in chips. “Those aren’t my favourite chips,” you lied defensively, moving to place the pill beside your newly acquired snacks. “It’s practically the only brand that’s left in the midst of this dying world—so none of us can afford to be picky, can we?”

Honestly, you’d have to admit it to yourself that the chips being spared even in the midst of the apocalypse didn’t bode well for your case, but why go down without a meaningless fight?

Negan chuckled all-knowingly, settling Lucille onto the ground before he leaned his elbow onto the mattress beside you and brought his lips into the proximity of your face. “Tasteless or not, I’m willin’ to bet my dick that you’ll be back asking for more,” he murmured, hazel eyes glazed with that bedroom sex-haze as he delicately searched between your eyes.

Your attention flickered between him and the flashy, grit teeth poking through the lips you’d tasted countless times, his words so open-ended for interpretation—because Negan Smith loved playing games. “Are we still talking about the chips?” You asked softly, eyebrow hitched expectantly.

“We can talk about whatever you goddamn want,” he grumbled huskily, lips making an advance for yours, but you brought your hand up to press an index finger into the divot of his chin.

“I told you,” you began, “not happening—not today. So, off you scamper to the next wife for a good tickle.”

“Cut that crap,” Negan chided levelly, then reached for your hand and pried it from his chin. “The others can wait, let’s just get you up and runnin’ because it’s been a goddamn buzzkill on my dick.”

“Oh, how terrible for you,” you sniped, brows furrowing at his nerve.

He seized your hand in a tight grip to place a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes narrowed around an intense gaze as he maintained eye contact throughout the gesture. You fought the urge to yank your hand free out of spite. Once his lips retracted from your skin, he tucked your hand between your bodies as he leant down to place a kiss on your forehead instead. It was a rather gentle touch—the most intimate one he’s ever bestowed on you, but it didn’t linger long before he pulled back and released your hand.

“Jesus, burnin’ up all for me?” He remarked, pressing the backside of his fingers to your forehead before they caressed the expanse and moved to push back the loose strands of hair that cascaded around your view. “You’re hot as shit.”

“I am, thank you,” you said suggestively, adding more earnestly, “it happens sometimes—I think my body is literally trying to kill me.”

He pulled back his hand from your hair, finger trailing down the angle of your jaw before he withdrew his touch entirely. “Yeah, well, you’re tough as nails, so tell the biological bitch to dial it down a notch.”

“Duly noted,” you murmured, reaching for the orange atop the bedside stand, your attention deliberately downturned to the fruit in clutch as you began to peel it while simultaneously reflecting on the situation presented before you.

You were thankful for the medication, but it felt odd to hold a sense of gratitude for a man like Negan, and you had not the slightest idea on how to handle the foreign phenomenon. Even a month ago, when he’d quite literally plucked you from death’s claws, there was no gratitude to behold—his motives in sparing you had always been selfish. But this instance? This was an action you thought beyond his emotional capacity.

You’d thought his better conscious had been so far lost to a history of bad and reckless decisions that there was not a slither of DNA left still capable of holding regard for others—but this act of his prompted you to reconsider that notion. After all, he owed you nothing, and you owed him everything, yet it was him that had come to settle.

A manipulative tactic? Possibly. You weren’t all that naive to allow this instance alone to so easily sway your opinion on him. He was still of questionable character—and that moral debate could ricochet for an endless amount of hours.

You spared yourself the turmoil and brought yourself to it, lifting your head to meet his stare once more. He’d been watching you enigmatically, without his usual running commentary to fill the void—it felt uncomfortable to have a silence so long settle between the two of you.

You decided to settle for a simple, “thanks, by the way,” as you set aside the discarded orange peels and began to thumb at the centre to separate the slices. “For the medication,” you clarified, popping a slice into your mouth. The first bite was an explosion of sultry sweetness, a true pleasure to behold.

Negan gave somewhat of an accomplished smirk. “I got ya,” he answered, his gaze lingering incoherently on you before he blinked away the haze and straightened himself from the bed with a grunt. “Take a hot bath—” he suggested, hoisting up Lucille from her position on the ground, “—hopefully that Lady Uterus o’ yours will let loose for a bit.”

He strung the bat across his shoulder—the rightful queen atop her throne, and turned to begin his amble toward the door.

“Are you going to draw it for me?” You asked him hopefully, which made him halt and partially turn his torso to face you.

He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “What’re you, ten?” He jested.

“If only,” you retorted wistfully. “The only stomach ache ten year old me ever got was because of one too many bags of chips.” You caught yourself at the mention of chips, then felt the need to clarify, “the good kind, not these ones.”

Negan lips spread with amusement. “What a goddamn time to be alive,” he stated.

“I’ll say,” you murmured, then turned your attention back to your diminishing orange. “Anyway, if you’re done bothering me now, I’ll draw that bath.”

“Damn, I stick my neck out for you and I don’t even get to stay for the show?”

“You’re always getting a show,” you retorted. “Let a girl have some alone time, for once. Besides, there’s no such thing as you sticking your neck out, seeing as you’re the one usually holding the guillotine.”

Negan chuckled, his eyes holding a mischievous glint. “Touché,” was all he offered. “I’ll draw you that bath.”

You perked with surprise, the last orange slice popped between your lips. “Only enough water for one,” you mumbled around the sweet, stringy flesh, brows lifted with implication. “Just in case you were getting any ideas.”

“Oh, I got ideas,” he hummed, scheming grin on his lips. “The meds I got ya? On the house. This? This’ll cost ya a little something. And once you’re feeling right as rain, I’ll come and collect.”

You gave a slight flicker of your eyes. “Okay, tax man,” you said, reaching for the bottled water and pill. “Whatever Negan wants.”

“Atta girl,” he praised, hand raised to point an index finger in your direction. “Now you’re startin’ to sound like a commendable wife—almost enough to make good ol’ Lucille here jealous.”

“Leave your weird bat out of this,” you said before splitting open the seam of the sealed bottle and taking an eager swig at the liquid. You popped the pill into your mouth shortly after and gave a hard swallow, your expression furrowing in disgust when it momentarily lodged itself against your tongue with the kiss of a bitter tang. After another gulp of water, it slid down uninterrupted.

“Somebody’s parched,” Negan remarked. “Never seen you take my seed that eagerly.”

You gave him a hearty middle finger, to which he scoffed amusedly and disappeared a short distance into your offside en-suite. “How hot?” He called back to you. “Three quarters to the hottest?”

“Sounds right,” you called back to him. “And add the bath oils, too!”

“Useless shit.”

“Let a girl indulge, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, settling against the mattress while you listened to the sound of the drawing bath. You noted the calm of the weather beyond the window, where a barely perceptible drizzle thrummed down gently.

It wasn’t long before Negan reappeared at your side, Lucille carefully discarded onto the foot of the bed before he inched his way onto the mattress and you felt his frame curl around your backside. Heat radiated from his body and flushed your back with a sense of comfort, his lips then finding the nape of your neck. He pressed a kiss there, his hand gently curling around your abdomen, as though he knew to take precaution around your sensitive area.

You shifted your neck away from his teasing lips, casting him a glance over your shoulder. “Why are you doing this?” You felt compelled to ask—this tender facade of his was disconcerting.

Negan’s held your stare levelly. “You’re my wife,” he stated simply. “A real man takes care of his wife.”

“Yeah, but that’s not real,” you said. “None of this is real—it’s all a made up, a twisted way for you to pass time. Us wives? We’re nothing but entertainment to you—so why all this effort?”

There was a brief pause from his side before he answered you with a sense of solemnity that you’d never truly seen him possess. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” He asked. “Hell, I know what desperation feels like. She’s a stone cold bitch, and you were nothin’ more than a husk of a person when we picked you up in those woods. You’re a fighter—death ain’t got a fuckin’ lead on you. I mean, shit, that deserves some respect—and I give that only where it’s due. So, call it respect, call it whatever you’d like, but just take the goddamn win, won’t ya?”

You listened intently, an emotion of something other than annoyance settling within your chest at his somewhat glorified image of you. For the first time ever, you didn’t know how to respond. It was easy to strike back when most of the conversation shared between the two of you was shallow, bitter banter, but as of this moment, this situation-ship was starting to feel as though the foundation was being built on something other than debt, and that thought was daunting.

“Bath should be drawn by now,” you said eventually, settling your head back into the pillow, glad to displace the view of Negan’s face.

The hand at your abdomen slid away as he lifted himself up with a grunt of effort. “Then you best go and dip your toes,” he said.

You took a moment to heave a breath before rolling over and sitting yourself up from the bed, to which Negan stepped a pace back to allow you the room to stand up. You straightened from the mattress that had held you captive for the entirety of the morning, offering Negan a long stare, who returned it with a grin that felt as though your thoughts were transparent to him.

You shouldn’t, but you wanted to. Fuck it, you would—you’d said it yourself, nothing left to lose, right? You brushed past him and hoisted a beckoning hand over your shoulder, followed by a sparse, cheeky glance.

“Come with me,” you told him.

“I like the sound of that,” Negan chuckled, trailing after you with a confident charisma. “Looks like I’m gettin’ that show after all.”

“Shut up about it.”

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[twdxtrevor]

Lord have MERCY, this man is too damn fine -