#negans thirst squad fan fic

[a-tired-bitch]

You, Me, and an RV

1 Part: Completed

MASTER LIST

Summary: After traveling with Nicole for two months in some raggedy RV, the constant rise of sexual tension between the two gets to a point where Negan can’t hold back anymore POV: Negan for the most part, but when the smut ensues it switches. Characters: Negan, Nicole (italics), Turner (italics x indent) Word Count: 5k Author’s Note: This started out as a roleplay post for Joe on some off-site forum I used to take partake in and recently was brought back into, but anyways, after looking over it, I decided to alter the story a bit and swap out Joe for Negan and wa-la. The Joe storyline was far hotter but I’ll use that for YSKB. Negan’s OOC since this is in the early months of the ZA and I wanted to switch up his personality. It’s been over a year since I created a Negan piece, so here you go. @Kate who will eventually read this: I not only hate you for making me get back into RPing and creating this, but I love you for doing that and for the content.  Warnings: I don’t get my content beta’d anymore. My oneshots are always so long, lol. Negan’s basically holding his dick while they talk, lol. I wouldn’t say this is necessarily PWP, but it is PWSP - porn with some plot. But yeah, the usual warnings apply.  Quote: “See, I told you that ‘stupid red scarf’ would look a lot better on you.

Two months…Two months since the rise of the living dead and the crumbling of a civilized society. Two months since the beginning of the battling of not only the lack of sleep, the immense hunger, and the shifting of one’s own saneness and conscience, but the battle of survival that raged between the living against the dead and the living against the living.

One month…One month since the crossing of paths between Negan and a firecracker of a woman named Nicole. One month since the beginning of their shared survival and travels through the state in a raggedy RV that was on its last lifeline.

Two weeks…Two weeks since Negan had acquired that black, leather jacket. Two weeks since the beginning of the rise of sexual tension between the two survivors.

One week…One week since it was Negan’s turn to sleep in the bedroom of the RV instead of the less-than-comfortable couch in the living room. One week since the beginning of the shift from the occasional spout of sexual tension that was usually playful in nature, to a full-blown waterfall of lingering stares and sexual propositions that were never acted on.

A few hours…A few hours since the couple stopped to scavenge a pile-up of cars.  A few hours since the beginning of a partnership with a man named Turner – a skilled mechanic who had offered to look over and repair any problems the RV might have in exchange for a ride and a place to sleep overnight.

One hour…One hour since they had stopped for the night. One hour since the beginning of nightfall. One hour since Turner had disappeared into the tree line to scavenge the woods.

“Our new friend,” a voice spoke, cutting through the long span of silence that enveloped the innards of the RV, “he’s been gone longer than expected – think he’s still alive out there?”

With his tongue sandwiched between his lower lip and the pearly whites of his upper teeth, Negan meticulously wrapped a roll of barbed wire around a bat he had stumbled upon one of their scavenging expeditions.

With the woman’s question going unanswered, Negan lifted his newly created weapon, examining it in the dim lights that brought light to the RV – thick and overlapping strands of steel wire wrapped around the head of the weapon while single loop strings clucked to the shaft.

Far too mesmerized with his creation, he had failed to notice that the blonde had taken a seat next to him on the couch.

“Aye,” the woman called, pulling her hand up to his ear and snapping a single time, “are you listening?” She questioned, her hand returning to her side as she took to her feet once more.

Being forced out of his trance, Negan shook his head a single time while carefully leaning the bat against the couch. “Well, Nicole,” he began, falling back into the pillows of the worn-out couch, “I hear you but I’m not listening,” his gaze settled on the woman who was now facing the kitchen countertop, “so the answer to your question is ‘yes’ and ‘no’.”

Scoffing, he shifted his attention to focus on the window that rested in the middle of the RV door. There, he searched the darkened world for any silhouette of the missing man.

“You know, I’ve probably said the about a million time since you and I crossed paths, but you’re the actual definition of an asshole.” Nicole jested, returning to the couch, but this time, holding two bowls filled with beans.

“Maybe, instead of repeating something I already know and have no ability to change since being an asshole is engrained in my DNA, you should figure out something new to tell me.” A somewhat playful smile took hold of his tired features as he turned to face her, eyeing the bowl for a quick second before accepting it.

With raised brows, Nicole stood there, her mouth agape just the slightest as she stared down at the man who was dressed in something the cast of Grease would wear. “You wanna hear something new?” Her questioned was both a rhetorical one and a way for her to think of a comeback. Scanning the man who was testing out the head of the beans by touching it with the tip of his tongue, Nicole took a seat on the opposite side of the small couch. “How about this: you look ridiculous in that leather jacket and that stupid red scarf.”

With raised brows that accompanied wide eyes, Negan lowered the bowl onto his lap after shifting in his seat so that his body was facing more in her direction. “I said tell me something new, not hurt my fucking feelings. But you know,” he leaned in just slightly, “this ‘stupid red scarf’ would look ten times fucking better on you than it would on me. Shit, maybe you can model it for me one of these days – walk up and down the length of the RV as it was your runway.” The two shared a moment of intense eye contact before Negan leaned away, a couple of throaty laughs coming from him.

This seemingly never-ending game of ‘let’s-continue-to-tell-jokes-to-build-this-obvious-sexual-tension-you-and-I-have-just-to-see-who-crosses-the-line-and-breaks-down-first’ seemed to resemble a game of hot potato – a game they both not only enjoyed playing but were masters at.

“Oh, come on, Negan, why don’t you just admit that you want to see me wear nothing more than that red scarf while you sit on this couch and rub one out.” Suddenly, Nicole’s legs began to stretch towards the man until her feet rested on his knee - this simple, yet semi-innocent action was something Negan was far too familiar with since it was something Nicole had done quite often. “Remember, though, looking for free, but touching is going to cost you.”

Gazing down, his eyes scanned the length of her legs before settling on her face. “Well, shit, in that case, looks like we're both going to miss out, especially you.”

“Prove it. Why don’t you show me what you’re working with and what I’ve been missing out on for these last two months. Go ahead. Do it.”

“Are you fucking with me? You really want me to do this right now?” Negan asked, cocking a brow.

Receiving a nod in response, his hands frantically worked at the button and zipper of his pants before the grey material was free from its constraints. Next, and without breaking eye contact, his right hand dug beneath the waistband of his boxers.

Suddenly, and just seconds before he was about to reveal what she had really been missing out on, an ankle came up and nudged him in the stomach, forcing him to stop.

“I was fucking with you.” Nicole laughed, her leg returning to rest on his knee. “Calm yourself, put that thing away, and let’s talk Turner.”

With his cock in hand, a clenched jaw, and cold and almost deadly stare, Negan just sat there, unamused with her so-called ‘joke’ and annoyed with her constant questioning of the missing man. He knew that there was no way he was going to allow this to slide, so, within the shallow depths of his mind, he began to concoct a plan.

“What the fuck about him?”

Tilting her head just the slightest, she spoke, “Mm, someone’s a bit agitated for no reason,” a smirk pulled at the corner of her lips before she continued, “what are we going to do if he doesn’t come back? Do we go looking for him or just pretend he was never around?”

“Look,” Negan sighed, “maybe we can go scan the tree line in the morning if he doesn’t come back, but for now, it’s not our problem. My only fucking problem is this thing right here,” he muttered, glancing down to his dick that was still hidden beneath his boxers and still within the grip out his hand.  “For now, we do nothing because he isn’t our responsibility. The only people were responsible for is each other.” The tone of his voice was stern and unwavering.

Considering that they had stumbled upon the man just hours before, Negan was in no position to go out and risk his neck for some stranger - after all, the motto of the new world was ‘survival of the fittest’.

Finally, after pulling his hand out from his boxers and buckling up his pants, he peered out through the window of the RV door. “Plus, I like it a lot better when it’s just you, me, and an RV.” He briefly looked over to her, a full-fledged smile taking hold of his tired features.

Nicole couldn’t help but look down at tent that hadn’t been fully pitched in his pants, but nevertheless, that didn’t stray her from looking. “Sleeping arrangements,” her eyes coming up to meet his as he turned his sights from the RV door and rested them on her, “what do you wanna do with them if he does decide to come back? I was thinking it would be a lot safer if you and I sleep in the back bedroom and he sleeps on the couch – you know, for safety reasons.”

“’Safety reasons’, huh?” Realizing that this was a perfect time to get back at her and thankful that it was just a few moments after her span of taking the lead in their little game, Negan began leaning in - close enough so she could feel his breath on her but far enough so that he was a foot or so of space between the two. “Why don’t you just admit to yourself that you want to see how good I am in bed.” His hand began to snake its way down from the armrest before resting on the lower portion of her calf. “Go ahead, admit to yourself that you wanna see how good and…persistent I am…,” fingertips that were once gliding along her leg while he spoke now firmly gripped onto her leg.

With a smile that truly revealed the depths of his dimples, Negan continued to linger there, watching as her eyes traveled down to rest on his lips and feeling how a wave of goosebumps spread out across her skin.

As much as she wanted to lean forward and meet this challenge head-on, Nicole was frozen in place. Despite his lingering from a foot away, the position of him leaning over half of her body made her mind reel in so many wrong directions. It was impossible to not imagine him pulling her to him, but as much as her mind played with these images, her body remained still. When his lips parted to whisper words to her, Nicole could feel the goosebumps crashing against every inch of her skin. She parted her lips to speak, but before she could his clutch on her calf tightened, pulling it so that her body was forced an inch closer to his as he continued to just linger there. As much as she tried to remain emotionless, her eyes widened a bit, blood pounded in her ears and raced up her neck and she had to take her bottom lip between her teeth to keep herself from closing the gap between them as his devilish smile imprinted itself into her mind.

“How good and persistent I am at hogging up all the covers and taking up most of the bed.” The once intense look in his eyes was now replaced by a playful one as he leaned back into the corner of the couch – the tips of his fingers gliding across her skin yet again before resting by his side.

Before either of them could continue with this banter, a knock forced Negan’s smile to fade and for his legs to instinctively bring him to his feet. Looking out the window, he saw Turner staring right back at him while waving his hand.

Rolling his eyes, Negan approached the door just a few steps away, “just as things were about to get good, he decides to show up,” he joked as he unlocked the door, pushing it open. 

Lingering on the last step of the motorhome and blocking the man from entering, Negan looked over the man who was currently soaked in water, shoeless, and holding a container in his hand.  “Go for a swim?” Negan questioned, looking away from the man and glancing around the area. “I’m not sure if you know this, but when the sun fucking disappears, and things begin to get dark and frogs to croak and shit, well, that means its nighttime. I say all this because you said you would be back before dark and would you fucking look at that, it’s not only dark but you're soaking fucking wet.” The only tone in his voice was a tone of neutrality – he wasn’t trying to lecture the man nor was he attempting to make a joke out of the situation. 

Listening to the man’s excuse which revolved around slipping on some rocks and landing in the water, Negan rolled his eyes, shooing the comments away. “Before you come in, change into something that isn’t wet.”

After an hour or so of gathering around and shooting the shit, the time to settle in for the night was rapidly approaching. Following the actions of Nicole who was heading into the back room, Negan slowly took to his feet as well.

Watching as she made her way to the backroom, Negan approached the man who was sitting in a chair just opposite of him – his eyes closed, and his body slumped into the comfort of the chair. When approaching him, Negan grabbed onto his barbed-wired bat with one hand and the man's shoulder with another. “Remember, despite out hospitality and our little deal, that doesn’t mean I won’t kill you.” Negan warned, his voice quieter than usual, making for the warning to be a lot more personal and intimidating. “One mess up. One perceived threat. Hell, if I hear you moving around in here, I assure you, I will take this bat and bash your skull in and then I will kill you.”

Because of his final warning, Turner’s eyes slowly opened, his pupils dilatating accordingly to see the older, black-haired man lingering just inches away from his person – a stern and cold expression grasping his visibly tired and dirtied face. With the warning, the younger man simply nodded – not a word sounded from his mouth, not a breath lifted from his chest, not even a breaking of eye contact interrupted the two, just a silent and fear-filled agreement. 

Standing tall, Negan slapped the man’s shoulder just once while devilish smile replacing his cold expression, “good,” he smirked, “and with that,” he turned, walking towards the backroom where Nicole was lingering in the threshold, “have yourself a good night.”

Placing his hand on the small of her back to move her forward, the couple slipped into the back bedroom – their presence disappearing altogether from the man once the door closed and the ‘click’, indicating that the door was now locked. This lingering touch quickly faded as Negan walked to the small closet while Nicole took to her side of the bed.

“Mind if I change in here or would you rather I go put on a show for Turner?” Rummaging through the pile of dirty clothes, Negan finally found what he was looking for – a less than half bottle of cologne and a stick of deodorant that was on its last leg. 

“I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” Nicole almost teasingly replied while stripping off her jeans. All the while in doing this, her eyes glanced towards Negan at regular intervals as he stood before the small closet, spraying and applying the contents he held. Her glances turned into plain ogling when Negan began peeling off his jacket in a painfully slow manner. This was followed by him stripping his neck free from that ‘stupid red scarf’ - which he tossed over his shoulder towards the bed. Finally, with her gaze still latched onto the man, she traced each line of muscle on his back and lingered on several scars that were scattered across his now naked back. Heat rose up Nicole's neck at the sight and she absentmindedly traced her bottom lip with her tongue as his arms fell to his sides, the shirt crumpled in one hand. She placed her jeans on the bedside table and kept her body turned a bit away from him, but her gaze lingered on him for a moment too long - he cast a single glance over his shoulder and caught her looking his way. The man's chuckle made blood rush to her cheeks and she looked at the wall in front of her, trying her best to ignore the man that was to her left.

“Enjoying the show?” He teased, and when she didn’t answer, he pressed further. “You know, like you said, ‘looking’s for free, but touching is going to cost ya’, so go ahead and look away.” Accompanied with another chuckle, Negan turned, revealing the front of his chest to her, but since her eyes were now closed and her body turned away, it wasn’t much of a reveal. Looking over the woman, Negan came to the realization that she was wearing nothing more than that oversized flannel Turner had offered her and whatever lied beneath. With a slack jaw, Negan forced his eyes off her and down to his pants which he began to slowly unbutton and unzip.  "You're right, tonight's my lucky night," she replied in a huskier tone. Within a few seconds her shirt was open, and since Negan was still behind her, she peeled it off her shoulders and allowed it to slowly pool around her lower back before resting on top of the bed. There, she could feel his eyes latching onto her, scanning over her almost bare body as she tilted her head to the side and began to unhook her bra.

This time, instead of turning away, Negan watched as the process of her undressing unfolded. His eyes – just like her eyes had done just seconds before – scanned over her small frame, pinpointing the handful of dark freckles that marked her back and the imprint her bra left on her tan skin.  Within his mind, a waterfall of not only sexual thoughts flooded in but a string of curses as well, knowing far too well that if he were to remove his pants, he would truly reveal how much of a toll these games took on him, but Negan, a man who was very confident in his manhood, had nothing to worry about.   “I suppose that can go for the both of us,” Negan spoke, dropping his pants and turning to face her.

Reaching back and grabbing her flannel, she slipped it over her shoulders, buttoning the first few buttons, and leaving the bottom open. She then stretched her hands above her head and felt the pleasurable crack of her back in several places before she finally took to her feet and turned to Negan. Noticing that he was now only in his boxers, she had no shame now in letting her eyes trail along his body as her tongue ran across her lower lip before returning her eyes to his. She moved around the bed until she stood in front of him, her eyes rested on his lips as she took a step towards him. Running her fingertips along the man's arm until they came to a stop on his right breast, a devilish smile came to her lips before closing the gap between their lips, only to stop before making contact. “I’m guessing I’m going to have to pay for that.” A wide smile lifted her lips as she stepped back. Watching as the man leaned there like a fool, his eyes slowly opening, Nicole pulled away, crawling over the bed, grabbing hold of the scarf he had discarded before slipping beneath the covers.

A shaky breath escaped the man’s lips as a hand was brought to his face, covering his mouth and nose – his fingertips pulling his eyelids closed. Usually, Negan was one who had a good reign over his emotions, but right now, he was practically like a dog with a bone.

Approaching her end of the bed, Negan rested one knee on it, followed by a hand, which was followed by the other knee and hand. He lingered there for a moment before crawling towards her – an animalistic force driving him to do this. With every crawl, he came closer and closer until her body was under his and their faces were once again inches apart.

Nicole’s body buzzed as if on an adrenaline high, and her mind reeled with all the possibilities of what he would do or say next. They were both wild cards that slowly stepped over new limits with their growing desires. She didn't have to look down to know Negan’s arousal, the look on his face when she leaned into him just second before was enough. The blonde had him by the balls and he had played along like a child being coaxed with candy. Slowly, he rested a knee on the bed, and she lifted her chin and met his gaze challengingly, only to be surprised to find a predatory gleam there. The hairs on her arms instantly raised and her pupils dilated, intimidated by the nature of his approach, literally crawling across the bed until he was above her body - any control that she had once had on the situation was ripped away. Every cell of her body hummed to life beneath the shadow of Negan’s body. Her mind played through all the endless possibilities of how her night could pan out. She imagined his hands wandering across her skin, leaving trails of warmth behind them. Crystal orbs watched his lips as her mind played out what it might feel like to have them latched to her own or trailing down her jawline to her neck. Since her mind was buzzing with the images that tortured her.

Throughout the ordeal, Negan’s eyes never wavered – that predatory sexual hunger never faltering. He wanted her, and he knew the feeling was mutual in her eyes as well – it had to be, with all the teasing and the events that just unraveled within the past couple of minutes, he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. 

“Why don’t we see how this red scarf looks on me.” And with that, rough and calloused hands slid onto the exposed skin of her leg, setting it ablaze with a rush of electricity that ended at her neck and she leaned forward, finally closing the gap between them. Her eyes closed and the hands that had once gripped the scarf now awoke and searched for a place to take hold. Her left hand moved from the front of his bare chest and around to between his shoulder blades, pulling her own body upwards to meet his as her right hand settled onto his neck. His body shifted away from her and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, not wanting him to break away just yet. In response his hand snaked up her leg until his arm was around her, supporting most of her weight as he lifted both of them off the bed. Suddenly her heart began thundering in her chest as her head tilted further into the kiss.

Slender legs tightened around his waist as Negan’s hands moved down to her calves and tried to remove her from him. The feel of her tongue gently racing across his bottom lip forced a soft and reluctant groan from the back of Negan’s throat in response before she finally allowed him to lower her body to the floor. Now, with her body pressed against his frame, he knew that she could feel the full extent of his erection against her. "Now, let's lay down a few rules," he began, his voice holding an authoritative tone while leaning to grab the crumbled-up scarf.

Now, his hands rested on top of her shoulders for a moment before slowly traveling down her arms, "I get to touch you, but you must keep your hands to yourself," his hands reached her wrists and lifted them, so he could begin tying entrapping them within the constraints of the cloth. "If you disobey an order," he finished constraining her before suddenly spinning her body around, making her stumble slightly until her back was pressed against his chest. Negan’s hand began to travel around his body while lips grazed her neck, never making full contact until they brushed lightly against her ear when he whispered, "I'll stop.”

As much as she wanted to shift into his hand to feel them press roughly against her again, she didn't, knowing that this might be considered her touching him. His feather-light touch sent chills traveling through whatever area of her body he chose to torture. Muscles tensed on cue and her head tilted to the side when his arm snaked around to lie flat on her stomach, but this didn’t last long for his hand began to move up her stomach. Nicole’s head leaned back until it rested in the crook of Negan’s neck as his left thumb started teasing the bottom of her breast while the tips of his right fingers slipped beneath her underwear and began moving along her slit. The blonde's breathing hitched as chills raced down her spine as he tilted his head and began nipping at her neck and ear, his beard a rough contrast to his tender lips. 

After what seemed like ages of agonizingly being teased, both hands suddenly attacked their indicated targets. Nicole's back arched- the fingers of his left hand roughly gripped her breast as the right's plunged into her. A soft moan escaped her lips and both of his hands immediately stopped. His left hand gently slid back down before gripping her side, turning her around and pushing her back onto the bed. Her eyes locked with the depths of brown as his left pointer finger pressed against his lips, 'shhhh' he whispered softly before hovering above her – his sights now targeting her neck and ear area.

"You," he breathed, taking the lobe of her ear between his teeth, and grazing it gently with his tongue before continuing, "are going to be – “, a trail of kisses started from the crease of her neck until he slowly kneeled for the edge of the bed, his kisses now sprinkling across her lower abdomen. “drowning in debt after this."

With that, he slowly pried open her legs before his index fingers looped around the material of her underwear and began pulling them off – while doing this, a string of kisses began to spread out across her thighs.

“Now remember, we have a guest in the room over, so try not to be too loud.” Negan teased, his hands coming up to lock around her thighs, pulling her body towards his face. Chuckling on last time, he glanced up at her before making sweet contact. At first, his licks were almost kitten-like as he teasingly lapped at her, feeling her squirm above him, but this didn’t last long. Instead of short and barely-making-contact-licks, Negan presented her with something more satisfying: a hand that was gliding up to grab her breast, a tongue, and lips that meticulously and rhythmically paid attention to her clit, and a pair of fingers that plunged into her.

This new and unfamiliar action made another soft moan fall from Nicole’s lips. In this moment, and for the moments to come, she wanted so desperately to grip onto the locks of his hair, but she knew, just as she had before, that this may be considered her disobeying his stern order. Instead, she allowed her hips to grind against him with every lick, nibble, and suckle. As a result, the wave of pleasure that was slowly building up throughout the ordeal was rapidly approaching – daring to wash over her body at any second.

“Oh, come on now, don’t hold back on me – you know I won’t do that to you.” He muttered, his breaths heavy and his eyes coming up to watch as her body grinded and squirmed with his actions. Watching as the woman passed closer and closer to climaxing, his hand gripped her breast more firmly, his fingers increased in pace, and his tongue continued bringing her pleasure.

It didn’t take long but her grinding came to a halt and her back arched – a wave of pleasure crashed through her body and a string of contractions wrapped around the culprit of her pleasure, making his fingers slowly come to a stop.

Pulling his fingers from her, Negan slowly lifted himself – his hand coming away from her breast to rest on the red scarf that kept her hands together. “I know I said that you’re going to be drowning in debt, but,” he paused, his tongue running along his lips to sponge up her fluids, “but you listened and didn’t touch, so I guess you’re in the free.”

Laughing, he brought his fingers up, examining them in the light – here, his eyes watched as his fingers glistened with her cum. A pride-filled smile spread across his lips before disappearing as his fingers came up and his mouth sucked them clean.

Untying the wrist from the limp woman’s arms, Negan took the scarf. “See, I told you that ‘stupid red scarf’ would look a lot better on you.”

[blackleatherjacketz]

My Brother’s Keeper: Chapter 11

Negan x Reader

Summary: Your brother runs away from the Sanctuary and you pay the price. This Chapter: A few weeks after Negan finds your brother, you attempt to return to your normal life.

Warnings: Lemons, Cunnilingus, Coercion, Sex, Grief, Medical Jargon, A Star Trek Joke

Word Count: 3237

Read the rest of the story HERE!

Mary’s leg was red and painful as you ran your palm slowly down her shin, nearly dwarfing the size of her other leg. You took care to press gently, measuring the amount of swelling that had caused her to stay home from work that day.

“Did you fall or injure yourself in any way?” You asked, looking up at her from your crouched position at her feet. “Any cuts, scrapes of bruises? It could be something minor that opened a pathway to infection.” You hoped that it was something as simple as cellulitis, but your gut told you otherwise.

“No, honey, I just sit at the shop all day. But this morning when I got up out of bed, it hurt to even move it.” She told you, leaning forward to touch her calf.

You kept your eyes down as you feared the worst, feeling for a pedal pulse which was barely palpable. “Have you had any trouble breathing? Any chest tightness or heaviness?” You remembered all of the patients like Mary you treated at the hospital before the world stopped turning; people who were lazy, people who were active, the young and the old. It didn’t matter then and it didn’t matter now, disease was an unbiased son of a bitch.

“No, none of that, sweetie.” She leaned back in her chair and patted her chest, thrumming a small rhythm onto her skin.

“I’m gonna have Doctor Carson start you on Eliquis tonight,” you explained. “It’s a blood thinner and will help get rid of that clot I think you have in your leg.” You paused, smiling as you looked into her tired and weary eyes. “In the meantime I’m gonna need you to take it easy for a few days, okay? No more half marathons.” You winked at her and stood up, dusting the dirt off your knees.

You often had to resign yourself to defeat in the apocalypse, coming to terms with the half lives and expiration dates of critical medications. In the old world you would have given her a Heparin drip, ordered an ultrasound of the veins in her legs and drawn labs to check her clotting time until she was stable. But this wasn’t the old world, now, was it? This was the Sanctuary, and Eliquis was all you had.

“Thank you, dear,” Mary’s hands clasped around yours, her many rings brushing against the dry skin on your palms.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled at Mary’s gratitude, the one thing that brought you joy in the past couple of days, and walked out of her room.

You pulled the notepad out of your jacket and wrote down her information: Mary Jackson, 67F, DVT LLE, Eliquis QID. You grinned to yourself as you entered the common area, putting your notepad back in your pocket as you were finally able to go half the day without thinking about your brother. No more tears to blur your vision, no more fatigue to keep you in bed, no more anger to make you strike out at your peers. You were practically yourself again.

You walked past Mary’s usual market stand that was now run by her husband, Jim, and gave him a quick little wave. He waved back slowly, his NASCAR hat unable to hide the joy in his eyes when he saw you.

“How’s she doing, Doc?”

“Damnit Jim, I’m a nurse, not a doctor.” You stopped in front of his table, waiting for the joke to register on his face before frowning as he failed to get your Star Trek reference. You shrugged it off and looked over his merchandise before spotting a tiny porcelain tiger.

“Well, you’re the best we’ve got, and certainly a lot better than Dr. Personality over there.” He nodded toward the infirmary.

“Every doctor needs their nurse!” You reassured him, not ready to badmouth your colleague. “Mary most likely has a blood clot in her leg. I didn’t see any cuts or scrapes indicating cellulitis, so I’m gonna start her on a blood thinner tonight; break that sucker up and have her back to work in no time.”

Jim took in a deep breath. “A blood clot? Is it serious?”

You opened your mouth to answer him but stopped as an eerie whistle sounded, wrenching Jim’s wrinkled face into shock. His brown eyes darted past you, following a slowly moving object before kneeling down onto his knees behind his station. The whistle only got louder, Negan’s voice freezing you in place as everyone else in the room followed suit. Jim looked at you with caution, pointing to Negan with his eyebrows before you eventually decided to turn around.

“On your knees, Princess.” Negan seemed taller than you remembered, growing in height as you lowered yourself to the ground. “Word on the street’s you’ve been getting your hands dirty, making house calls, being a real Mother Teresa type.” Negan waltzed up to you, lifting your chin with the tip of Lucille.

It was true that you were burying yourself in your work, trying to take your mind off the eternity of grey each morning brought as you did your best to find some color in the Sanctuary. You strove to be that good person Alden saw in you, but it didn’t matter how many people you helped, you still couldn’t quite shake the darkness inside.

“Yeah?” You tried to ignore the proximity of the weapon that bashed your brother’s brains in a few weeks ago. “Did you come here to canonize me into sainthood?”

Negan turned his head as he tried to register what you said, laughing instead of asking exactly what you meant. “Not really.”

“What do you want, then?” You asked, the tip of Lucille tilting your chin upward.

“I wanna talk,” he started. He lowered his bat down to your neck, tracing the outline of your clavicle as it’s barbs scratched little white lines into your skin.

“Then talk.” You stood up against his bat, crossing your arms over your chest as you rose to your feet.

“Huh,” he chuckled at your audacity. “I’d rather have a private conversation.” He dropped Lucille to his side and leaned in close, the heat from his breath setting your skin on fire. “That is, unless you want everyone else here to watch.”

“No,” you answered, looking back at Jim and his porcelain tiger. “Private is fine.” —————————

Negan’s room was just as luxurious as you remembered it, the giant bed spurring memories that blocked out the painful ones you kept reliving every night. You were nowhere near ready to be alone with him in such a small room, to look at his handsome face and smell the cologne on his neck, but here you were.

You followed him here against your better judgement, knowing full well what he intended to ask you without knowing if you had the conviction to stand your ground. Perhaps you were just tired of mourning, of seeing your brother’s ghost in the hallway and your mother’s in the kitchen. That ache he’d placed in your heart never quite outweighed the ache he’d placed between your legs.

“You want a drink?” Negan got comfortable after closing the door behind him, setting Lucille down and shrugging out of his leather jacket.

God, yes. You wanted a drink more than anything. You wanted to taste that warm whiskey and forget everything that had happened; to let it pulse through your veins and push you into his arms even though you knew it was the last thing you needed right now.

“Yeah,” you decided out loud. “Yeah, I’ll take that drink.”

“Good.” Negan walked over to the bar and got two glasses from the top shelf, pouring an amber liquid into each of them. “Now I know what I did was kind of fucked up and everything, but I just gotta ask,” he trailed off, collecting the glasses in his hands before turning to face you. ”Are you still pissed at me?”

Was he kidding? How could you not be? He murdered your brother right in front of you, and now he was acting like nothing had happened? Like he was innocent? Like you should be grateful? If he was anyone else in the world you might tell him all of that, but he was Negan, and so were you. You had to choose your words carefully.

“Maybe,” you whispered, taking the glass from him.

“Maybe,” his voice was as smooth as the whiskey going down your throat. “Maybe not.” His hazel eyes glowed in the pink of the summer sunset. You hated how beautiful he was, how sinfully stunning his mere presence was as you actively tried to despise him.

“I should hate you… for what you did,” you braved, staring at his frustratingly pleasing form.

“Yeah,” he smiled and took a sip. “Yeah you should.” He stepped toward you, his quickening proximity sending a rush of heat between your thighs. “But you don’t.” The look on his face was more than victorious, the wrinkles around his eyes telling you that he knew things would turn out this way, no matter how badly he hurt you.

“You wanted to talk…” you began, refusing to respond to his taunt. “Let’s talk.” You felt the heat spread throughout your body as he advanced on you, taking a step backward until you found yourself seated on his bed.

Negan bit his lower lip as he watched you rest on his mattress, eyes dancing over you while his hand slithered over the top of your thigh. “I was thinking we could do more that…”

“I thought this was over,” you tested him, taking a sip and lowering your glass.

“I wanted to give you time to get back on your feet.” His hand traveled inward, fingertips brushing against the denim that contained your needy sex. “I’m a stand-up guy like that.” He winked and finished his drink, setting it down on the nightstand next to Lucille.

“Plus, Rick the prick took a little longer to break in than I imagined.” He squeezed your thigh and tipped the bottom of your glass upwards, smirking as you reluctantly chugged the rest of the liquid down your throat. “Good girl.” He purred, taking your empty glass and setting in down next to his.

“He did, huh?” You’d heard about the new community Negan found and how they massacred an entire Savior outpost in one night. You didn’t know much about who they were or where they came from, but you did know that Negan made it pretty clear they were messing with the wrong people.

“Yeah, but I’m not here to talk about that.” He smoothed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “After everything that’s happened, I just wanna make sure you’re still who I think you are.”

He smiled and snaked his hand up the front of your shirt, sliding your stethoscope off your neck and setting it down beside him. Grinning like a kid in a candy store, he pushed up into your shoulders, grazing his calloused hands over your arms before taking the sleeves of your work jacket with them. You took in a deep breath and let him undress you like you always did, pushing the memory of your brother out of your mind as he stood you up and took off the rest of your clothes.

Instead of forcing you onto the bed in some demeaning position, Negan took your face in his hands. He stared at you endlessly, those hazel eyes turning an electric gold in the warming sunlight before gently kissing your lips. Well, that was new.

“I’m Negan,” you whispered into his mouth, hoping that was what he wanted to hear. The taste of the whiskey heightened your senses as his tongue brushed against yours, sending little jolts of pleasure into your brain. “I’m still Negan,” you reassured him.

“Good.” He pushed you onto your back, feathering his fingers up your thighs until they reached the junction between your legs. “That’s what I thought.” The smile that graced his lips was purely demonic, baring sharp teeth as he lowered them to your pelvis to finally take a bite.

You hissed as he wantonly feasted on your flesh, writhing beneath him as his mouth made that deadly concoction of pain and pleasure you loved so much. You watched him lick the moisture between your folds, bringing his tongue up on your clit like a cat giving itself a bath. His eyes darkened as he took you in, watching your face change with each lick, each lap of arousal coating his generous and eager tongue.

You let yourself leave the present time and place, closing your eyes and focusing only on how he made you feel. Warm wet strips of delight excited your juicy center as his whiskers brushed against your thigh. You never imagined you’d feel this good again, every pulsing inch of your heat begging for more as he sucked and tugged on your raw flesh. He hummed a deep tune into your body, vibrating your very bones in a song as if you were his favorite wind instrument.

Knuckles white against his scalp, you rolled your hips into him, guiding his hungry mouth exactly where you wanted as you felt your thighs begin to quake. Those feelings of anger and doubt all washed away as a heavy tidal wave of bliss crashed over you, forcing your back to curve and flatten like waves upon the ocean. Every swear word you had in your arsenal left your lips as you came, the ebb and flow of your orgasm giving you an excuse to use the language you wanted to shout at him for the longest time.

Your eyes fluttered open as he pulled his mouth away, lips and beard wet with your juices as he began undoing his pants. Part of you wanted to deny him, to put your foot on his chest and keep him at bay, but you were too tired. Too tired of consciously avoiding him, of being strong for your family and burying your feelings of grief. Instead you sat up on your elbows, watching him undress in the heavy lavender of dusk as his clothes finally hit the floor.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, welcoming him back as he pressed into you without ceremony. Your walls stretched and adjusted to his girth, your time away from him erasing that muscle memory as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. More waves built up as his body pushed and pulled, hitting those bruises he’d placed with his mouth as a tsunami of pleasure built up inside you.

He grunted and groaned as he tasted your neck, recklessly thrusting until either of you could take it any longer. His eyes shut as he came inside you, biting your throat as he pushed himself up to the hilt, filling you up with all he had. His hips crashed into yours with that final wave, his white hot liquid spilling inside you as he held you close, twitching and spasming with his final efforts.

You’d never admit it, but you didn’t want to let him go. You wished you could stay here like this forever, with him deep inside you as your sweat mixed with his in the most primal of ways. If you didn’t think about it, it was like there was no one else that mattered but the two of you. No one else in the world.

You kissed his forehead as he leaned into you, the sweat from his brow coating your lips as he slowly pulled out and collapsed on the bed.

“Shit, doll,” he mumbled, “You must have really missed me.” He kissed your clavicle and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling as he tried to collect himself.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you countered, teeth still chattering from your orgasm. “For a minute there, I thought you were going to ask me to be your wife.” You couldn't stand the suspense any longer.

“Are you shittin’ me? And ruin what we’ve got goin’ here?” He chuckled and ran a hand down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its path. “I got a better job for you, something I think you’ll like a lot more than being locked away with a bunch of broads.”

You turned your head to look at him, wondering what on earth he could be talking about. “A different job than being a nurse?” For once in your life, you wanted to know what was going on in that head of his.

“Sorta,” he paused. “Rick’s group got me thinkin’... maybe we don’t have as tight a hold on our communities as we thought.” He bit your shoulder and turned you on your side, taking time to rub the sore muscles in your back. “I’m gonna send you to the Kingdom to do a little recon for me.”

“Recon?” What did he just say? The Kingdom? Send you there? Didn’t he want you here? Wasn’t that why he lured you up here, so he could… You closed your eyes as your stomach wretched in disappointment, the acid bubbling over the top and into your throat. “I’m not a Savior, Negan, I have no business being a spy,” you protested.

“I know.” He kissed your neck, tugging on your skin with his teeth before sliding his tongue gently over it. You were still sensitive as he sucked the new bruise into your flesh, tiny little neurons firing the last of what they had into your system.

“I don’t understand,” you whispered between moans. It dawned on you now why he wanted to get you into bed so quickly; you couldn’t say no to him while you were naked in his arms riding the high of an orgasm. He never had any intention of asking you to be his wife at all, did he?

“I just couldn’t shake how Zeke looked at you when we were over there. I mean, not that I can blame him,” he explained, grabbing your breasts and pulling you into him.

You gasped at the sudden contact, instinctively writhing your exhausted body into his. “I don’t think…”

“No, you wouldn’t. Which is why you need to be over there. No one will suspect a nurse.” He paused. “Rick the prick didn’t get his information out of nowhere, and I need to know which community’s to blame.” He smoothed his hand down your body, overworking your pleasure center as he curved it around your hips.

“We’ll drop you off, make it look like you’re some kind of traveler,” he whispered, cupping your ass and spreading your cheeks. “And then every week during their offering I get to eat that pussy until I’m not hungry anymore.” He slid his fingers up between your thighs, still wet with your arousal. “Pull all that sensitive information out of that big ole brain of yours.”

“I uh… oh my God, Negan…” You couldn’t help but rock into him, relishing the sensation of his fingers as they entered you again. “What if I say no?” The question was more for yourself, but you decided to let him hear it, too.

“Do this for me baby, and I won’t have to harm a single hair on your dad or sister’s head ever again.”

--------------------------

Tags: @irrelevantwriter @genevievedarcygranger @letsby @annablack1102 @negansdirtygirl22 @negans-network @rasa1945 @chamberofsloths @namelesslosers @collette04 @haleyea @bishsposts @bodhi-black @mblaqgi @ptite-shit @jamiekingofmen @ibelongtonegan @divadinag @dxloverpunk @tylersblurrylittleface

[neganandblake]

Relentless - A Negan & Blake AU  [Part 1]

After Blake’s community was taken in by Negan’s after a fire, Negan takes a shine to blonde leader and asks her to become one of his wives. But as a strong and independent woman, Blake refuses. Yet Negan doesn't relent.

How many times can he keep asking until enough is finally enough?

An AU starring Negan (of course) and Blake, as leader of her own group on this occasion. Might do more parts if people like it?

It had been a long morning already, and by the time 10am rolled around, Blake, who was almost finished with her fifth job of the day, was hanging out laundry on a clothes line that stretched across the dusty lot.

Blake had come to the Sanctuary a month ago. A fire had broken out in the community she had been leader of, rendering her entire group of forty or so people homeless. And so she had had no choice, but to come begging cap in hand to Negan and the Saviours.

She certainly wasn't a fan of the dark-haired, baseball-bat-wielding leader, but they had been on fair and formal terms for a while. Her group had provided food and provisions for the Sanctuary and in return Blake had asked for protection. And she had received it of course, after much smugness from Negan, which it had taken all her effort not to snap at on many an occasion.

She had done it for her people. To make sure they were safe. And so, Negan had given in, relocating all of them to one of his outposts, under one condition-

That Blake stayed here.

At first she had thought it was because he could see how strong she was…..how good of a leader she had been….

But she hadn't even been here a day, when he had revealed to her the real  reason….and had asked her to become one of his wives.

At first Blake had laughed, thinking he was joking. But she had soon realised that he was being wholly serious.

That he really did want nothing more from her than for her to sit there, in that parlour upstairs, and look pretty, waiting for him to call on her.

But that was not what Blake had strived to do. That was not the life she had built for herself.

She had led people. Made sure they were safe, fed, warm.

Blake should have been Negan’s equal and not just one of his six wives.

She was worth more than that. Wasn't she??

So she turned him down. That was time number one.

But it certainly seemed like Negan like the challenge, because time and time again, day after day Negan would approach her and ask her again…..and again….and again……

Blake was usually in the middle of doing work down in the laundry rooms and the kitchens where she earned her points. A far cry from the leadership role she had had just a few short weeks ago.

Not that she minded the work. Not at all.

And as long as her people were ok that was all that mattered, right?

But Blake felt trapped here, stifled….

It wasn't even really possible to leave the Sanctuary unless you were one of Negan’s more trusted lieutenants. Anyone else was prohibited. And so Blake was stuck here. Unable to visit her own people out at the outposts, and forced to stay here alone.

Although she was rarely alone with Negan sniffing about all day.

Blake didn't quite understand what his fascination with her was.

Yes she was tall, blonde and leggy but it was obvious to anyone that she wasn't exactly Negan’s biggest fan.

Blake always tried to push it as far as she could with him. She had been a force to be reckoned with at one time and had gotten there for a reason.

And it was obvious Negan could see that.

He enjoyed their back and forth, and in a way, so did she. For who else did she have to talk to these days?

But after the end of every conversation the pair had, where they would tease and taunt each other no end, pushing the other’s buttons…...Negan would always ruin things by asking that same old question.

And everytime, as if like clockwork, Blake would scowl and turn away from him, more annoyed that he had ruined the fun she had been having, and flat out refused him.

And so he would return her irritable look and stalk away, baseball bat thrown up onto his shoulder, looking thoroughly pissed off.

But what did he really expect?

For her to just give up? For her to just rol over like that and agree?

That wasn't her.

And she doubted it ever would be.

On this breezy and warm day, Blake was just pegging up the last of the cotton bed sheets onto the washing line when a tall shadow appeared through the white material.

The blonde woman immediately rolled her eyes, giving a gigantic huff.

“What do you want, Negan?” she snapped in an exhausted tone. “I have tonnes to do today, why didn't you go bother someone else instead.”

She heard the dark-haired man give a chuckle, before ducking under the washing line and appearing out from behind the sheet.

He was tall and tanned and bearded and undoubtedly handsome in a ‘I-dont-give-a-fuck’ kind of way.

But Blake knew she couldn't let herself fall for him. She had known men like him before and she had told herself never again.

In the years before the apocalypse, she had been badly abused by her ex. But she had escaped that and come out stronger.

That was what had gotten her through tough times after the world had gone to shit.

She was strong and intelligent.

And here she was…..a good match for Negan, but she wasn't about to let herself be that.

There was no way in hell.

She glared at Negan now, as he pouted.

“Jus’ comin’ to make sure you’re not gettin’ that oh-so-fuckin’ fine ass of yours into too much trouble, Darlin’,” he said in a smooth tone, which caused Blake to roll her eyes again.

She bent down, picking up the large wicker laundry basket at her feet, before shoving him aside with her hip and moving onto the next clear section of the washing line.

“How could I possibly get into trouble when I’m down in that laundry room from dawn until dusk?” she said huffily, dropping the basket down again and pulling out a small pillow case.

“Oh believe me, Sweetheart,” Negan commented leaning back against his long legs and surveying her. “You’d be surprised by what these assholes can manage to do when they think no one's watchin’’.”

Blake glanced at him, as she pegged up the pillow case.

“And what?” she said in scathing voice, raising an eyebrow in his direction. “Don't tell me. You're aaaaalways watching?”

Her tone was full of sarcasm, but this only made Negan chuckle and press his firm and tall body into her a little, as he leaned his lips close to her ear.

“Oh believe me, Peaches,” he said in a  husky tone. “My eyes have been glued to you since you first came to me, down on your knees, beggin’ me to help you an’ your people.”

But Blake turned her head to face him, scowling as she pressed a hand to his taut chest, giving him a sharp shove away from her.

“Uh, for the record, I did not get down on my knees for you, and I hope you know that I never will,” she replied, shooting him a deadly look. “

But at her words, a grin slid onto Negan’s face as he eyed her, chuckling to himself and lifting a tanned finger, pointing her way.

“See, that’s why I like you,” Negan said, his voice full of utter glee. “‘Cause you are a goddamn challenge, Peaches.”

The corners of Blake's lips twitched upwards slightly but she held off a smile, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“That’s why when you finally agree to becomin’ one of my wives, you’re gonna get spot numero uno, Darlin’,” he said in an arrogant voice.

And there it was. Attempt number 28.

Any hint of mildness suddenly dropped from Blake’s features almost instantly, as her expression became cold and stony.

“Goodbye, Negan,” she uttered in a firm voice, picking up the basket once more, balancing it on her hip and shasaying past him, leaving the dark-haired Saviour standing there staring after her.

Was he ever going to give up??

Does anyone want more?

[embracetheapocalypsewithme]

Been thinking a lot about the fic I started and abandoned last year called In The Twilight Kingdom. I should really keep going with that one...I had plans for it that didn’t totally suck.

[warriorqueen1991]

Some fan art of Roxy and Negan for my wonderful chocolate bear @noodlecupcakes I'm hoping to do something a little more detailed in the future but we'll see lol

[84reedsy]

Jolly Ol’ St. Negan -  A TWD Christmas Story

Hello to all the Negan Thrist Squad! Recently there was a little discussion on @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash‘s blog with a little imagine of Negan as St. Nick. I couldn’t stop picturing it in my head, so I had to write a little one-shot for the holidays. Enjoy!

Author: @84reedsy

Characters: Negan, OC , Simon (appearance)

Word Count: 2622

Warnings: Suggestive scene, mention of nudity

Tags: @negans-network @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash

Description: It’s the holidays in the Sanctuary and everyone’s favorite, fearless, filthy-mouthed leader is pegged to play the jolliest symbol of the season!

Negan frowned at the suit that hung on the back of his bathroom door, he frowned even more at his own reflection in the steamy mirror. He wanted to trim his beard up more, but damn him and his soft heart. To say Negan was a complicated man was the biggest understatement of the apocalyptic century, however the hopeful questions from the residents of The Sanctuary as the weather got colder and colder wore him down more and more.

Initially the idea of a celebration seemed as ridiculous as it was impractical. For what point was he going to risk the wellness and safety of his men to prepare extra for a night of extravagance? He thought the matter settled; continued veiled suggestions and insinuations proved otherwise. The all as a group had chipped away at the iceberg of his indifference, the heart of it melting when one of the smaller residents, little Grace Miller, plead her case.

“Please, Mr. Negan, sir. We haven’t had a Christmas since we left home.” Her big blue eyes had shown such pure innocence and expectancy, he could tell that somehow through all of this she hadn’t come to realize that Santa was a mere figment of a tall tale. Her young mother had cleared her throat.

“It...it wouldn’t be much, maybe just a tree? A few lights? The children can make the rest.” She’d said, biting her lip, hoping she wasn’t speaking out of place, after all Negan’s temper and attitude were the thing of legends.

“A tree? And lights? Lights that will drain more fuel from our generators for what purpose exactly? Holiday fucking cheer?” He smiled the way he did when he was making a point and was humored that his audience was slow on the uptake. Some of the children’s eyes widened at his language. Negan rolled his tongue in his mouth as he studied all of them. Grace cleared her throat.

“Santa won’t bring you any presents if you say bad words, Mr. Negan.” Grace was almost indignant.

Negan’s eyebrows shot up an amused smile on his surprised face, his eyes lifted to her mother who looked like she was scared for her life.

“Calm down doll, you look like you’re about to sh-...crap out a brick.” He censored himself. He kneeled down in front of the girl, leaning on Lucille. He paused studying her for a good few seconds, “Is that true? I really won’t get ANY presents?” She nodded, he chuckled at first, standing even more amused. After a few more tense moments, he turned around shouldering Lucille once again.

“SIMON...round up a few men….let’s get these kids a tree!”

Negan grumbled in the mirror; he could see the ugly reflection of the suit in the glass, almost mocking him. At least he looked good in red and tonight, he thought, after the party, he could trim this god-forsaken salt and pepper beard he’d grown out.

He yanked the suit from the hanger and sulked back to his bedroom, slipping the awful, velveteen material over his freshly washed skin. The top was a tad tight, but Negan not dared busy the seamstress residents with something that still in his eyes he viewed as completely frivolous. He left the few top buttons open, just enough to let the edge of burly chest hair breathe.

“Hot diggity dog, look at this fuckin’ freak show.” Negan exclaimed as he took in the sight of him in the mirror. He took a gulp from his whiskey glass, setting it down, the ice cubes clinking. Hearing a sharp rap at the door, Negan placed the santa hat slightly askew on top of his head, “Ho, ho, ho shit heads.” He downed the rest of the glass, answering the door. Simon knew better than to degrade their leader whether in harmless jest or otherwise, but it took every ounce of him to conceal the humor in his face.

“Lookin’ good, boss.” He tried to feign sincerity.

“Don’t get god-damned smart with me, Simon… I gotta be in a jolly mood for these snot-nosed kids.” Negan grabbed Lucille who had some holly tucked away among the barbs and small, twinkling lights adorned her.. Even she was dressed for the occasion. As Negan stalked down the hallway from his room, Simon had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his amusement, especially when the little bell inside the santa hat’s pom jingled with each step.

The main cafeteria had been transformed somehow. Negan had to admit it looked downright cheery and festive. A substantial amount of longleaf pine and cedar boughs hung on the walls, the windows, the beams, as well as any other remotely stationary surface. The tree’s were plentiful enough near the Sanctuary; the bits of tin foil crinkled on them almost looked like twinkling lights when one passed by them. The children had made garlands of construction paper and there must have been some holiday themed scavenging, because actual ornaments hung from the ceiling tiles as well as some of the boughs.

Little Grace’s mother was humming holiday carols as she put the finishing touches on, the children buzzing excitedly. When they noticed Negan enter decked out in his saintly garb, they hushed, eyes wide. They knelt, but it was slower, almost a confused reverence.

“Well Merry Fu-” He looked around at the children whose parent’s heads were bowed, but were too curious themselves not to look up at him. Negan grit his teeth a little before correcting himself, “A Merry freakin’ Christmas to us all.” He spun around on his heel, his pearly white visible from his wide grin as he surveyed the now transformed dining hall.

“Hope you boys and girls have been good all year, otherwise Santa would be mighty pissed!” He rested Lucille on his shoulder, the children’s eyes following her in all of her lit glory. As Negan, followed by Simon and a few other saviors made their way to the center of the room, where a throne of sorts stood, waiting for the symbol of the season.

“A throne? Well I may just get used to this shit ye, boys.” Negan mumbled so only the saviors heard him. They chuckled in response, standing off to the side, Simon closest as Negan sat in the chair, slouching down ever so slightly. As he sat, the people kneeling began to rise slowly, holding onto their children almost in fear that if they were to approach Negan too quickly, the holiday might be cut short.

“Relax!” Negan said, leaning Lucille against the arm of the chair, “It’s Christmas, people!”

With that a relaxed murmur spread throughout the room, soon joined by the sounds of a vinyl record playing classic holiday tunes. The smell of the pine and cedar boughs mixed with the roasted wild turkey and other typical holiday fare. Negan pulled an item from the red suit, thrusting it at Simon.

Simon took the item, unfolding it and turning it in his hands. His eyes widened as he stammered.

“Negan….you can’t be serious…” He looked around the room as if people were already looking at him.

“What? Every Santa needs his little helper.” His grin was sardonic, but his tone while teasing, was surely not joking.

Simon hesitated a moment longer, but as Negan’s smile fell slightly, he swallowed before begrudgingly pulling the stocking cap over his head. The attached elf ears covered his own, the little bell on the end jiggled as the hat fell into place. Negan’s laughter only aided in his embarassment.

“Merry Christmas to me!” he bellowed. Now feeling for cordial, he assumed now was as good a time as any to call the children up.

“You kids, get on up here. Come tell Santa Negan what you want for Christmas this year. But...one kid pisses in my lap and Christmas is over, got it?” He pointed at the children as some raced for the front of the line, some shuffled nervously, some were persuaded by their parents to line up. The children shook their head; a couple left the line obviously unable to ensure the control of their faculties.

The first in line were a few boys, making being in the front of the line a competition, slightly pushing and shoving, the first boy making a silent threat with his eyes as the rest backed down. Negan was entertained by this. The first boy made his way up, Negan lifted him onto his knee.

“Well that was quite a show down there.” he motioned to the other boys still in line.

“I wanted to be first. You have to take what you want these days.” He said, still trying to look tough. Negan had to smile now; a boy after his own heart.

“What do you wanna ask Santa for this Christmas?” He had a feeling he knew exactly what the boy wanted.

“I wanna be a savior.” His worker parents looked on nervously. Negan’s chuckle began low but soon was rolling out of him.

“Well, son...I’d say you’ve got the spirit for it. Tell you what...you get a little bigger and we’ll start training you up. I like you. I think you’ll make a fine savior someday. “ The boy smiled and said thank you after his parent’s reminded him. He hopped down after a fist bump from Santa Negan, excited, but trying to act tough as he walked away.

The next few boys had similar requests, one though asked for a puppy. Luckily one of the compounds resident mutts just had a litter. Some of the girls in the group asked for dolls, clothes, typical girl things that Negan had to work to not sneer at. Some were more practical asking for vegetable seeds and medicine. Some younger ones asked for family members back.

Santa Negan didn’t let some of their pleading faces get to them, instead telling them that they should be thankful they were alive still and that they should realize how strong they are that they’d survived this long. This course worked; none of them cried and seemed to leave his lap feeling better. The line dwindled down, and none too soon as his knee was beginning to go numb.

Grace was the last child. She looked as if she’d never been happier in her life.

“Well look what we have here, the language police!” He teased her, plopping her down on his lap.

“Hi Santa Negan!” She exclaimed, “Thank you for letting us have the party.” She giggled looking around.

“Well, I guess you better tell me what you want for Christmas, too.” He was amused by her. She could barely sit still, looking around at all the decorations as much as she was him.

“I don’t want anything else, Mr. Santa Negan, sir…” She exclaimed, “This party...that’s what I really wanted!”

Negan almost guffawed at her.

“Well how about that, a girl that’s easy to please. You might be my favorite of the night, Gracie.”

She hopped from his lap, taking a step before pausing and turning.

“Well….there might be one thing…” She started.

“Ahhh, I knew it was too good to be true. What’s the one thing, girl?”

“Well…” She started, walking back to him. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “My mommy was hoping you’d let her sit on your lap too, she said that was her Christmas wish.”

Negan had to hide his grin behind his gloved hand now.

“Oh, is that so….well tell me Grace, “ his eyes surveyed the room, spotting her young mother near the serving table, her eyes occasionally tried to covertly glance at him, “Has your mommy been a real good girl this year?”

Grace nodded sincerely. Negan winked at the mother as she glanced over again.

“Well Gracie, you tell your momma to come see me at the end of the party…” He patted her head slightly as she left the stage, running to her mother. She was excitedly chattering and Negan could tell as soon as she told her about seeing him at the end, her face paled a little.

He continued to sit in his throne, accepting the gifts that some of the parents bestowed upon him, eating what he had to admit was a very fine holiday meal. As the night wore on though, the children tired and left in groups. By the time the children were gone, a small gathering of the young mothers were all that was left.

Grace’s mom, Ellie helped starting to clean up the food mess from the tables. She peered up as subtly as she could, noticing Negan mumbling into Simon’s ear, his eyes locked on her. Simon appeared to mumble something back right before Negan addressed her.

“Ellie Miller, please approach Santa’s throne.” Negan bellowed, sipping a small tumbler of whiskey. She jumped a little when she heard her name. Some of the mother’s paused what they were doing in surprise as well, but quickly went back to their duties. Ellie made her way over, walking as quietly as possible, stopping just short of the throne.

“A little birdy told me you’ve been dying to ask Santa Negan something.” He teased her, patting his thigh, “So why don’t you take a seat and see if we can’t make your Christmas wish come true.” The saviors snickered a little but backed off further to allow Negan more space.

She squirmed a little, nervous but excited at the same time. She forced her legs to move, perching on his thigh right where he’d motioned her. She felt his arm slide around her waist and pull her closer to him, sliding her backside up his leg until she was tight up against him. His arm started sliding back, his hand lingering though. She clamped her own thighs together to keep from moving too much herself.

“Well...Santa....I just wanted to thank you for letting us have this great party. It...it meant so much to all the kids.” She cleared her throat, speaking lower and softer, “And to me….so ...I would like to...um...thank  you. Appropriately.” She flashed her most suggestive eyes at him. She moved ever so slightly, her thigh pressing lightly between his legs.

Negan grinned smug. He was feeling warm. He was feeling festive. He was feeling generous. And god damn was he feeling horny now with this little minx wiggling in his lap.

“Well Santa Negan things this might be one wish, “ His gloved finger traced the line of her jaw, “He can grant right now.”

Ellie was still nervous but shook her head enthusiastically, thankful that Grace was staying with a neighbor that night. “I’d...I’d like that...sir.”

---------------------------------------------------------

The red suit lay out over a desk chair as Negan’s nearly nude form lounged in his bed. He left the Santa hat on as if he required it to continue playing his part as the giving cherub. His eyes gleamed at the site before him. Ellie stood bare before him, leaning against his bed post, letting him absorb the sight of her supple, womanly form. Curves he couldn’t wait to sink his fingers into, valley’s he couldn’t wait to taste. He only wished her breasts had been tied up in a bow for kicks.

He curled his finger toward her, beckoning her. Ellie did as requested immediately, slinking onto the bed and crawling slowly over him until she was straddling his waist. Grabbing his hand, she suckled each finger genlty, before placing his hand over her waiting breast, pressing down on the growing strain of his loins. 

“Well hot damn,” he licked his lips, an amused growl emitted from his them.  ”Santa must’ve have been an extra good boy this year. Merry Christmas to me.”

[youcanbreatheyoucanblink-blog]

Devour Me (part 4)

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    :)

After being imprisoned at a colony that used women for only their bodies, Scarlet battles through blood, fire, and pain to get her freedom back. And who better to give that back to her than the man who taught her how to fight in the first place? Chapter Summary: Scarlet and Negan finally reconnect and some questions about their shared past are answered. Main Characters: Scarlet (OC), Negan, Cara (OC) 

Warnings: At this point you should probably just expect Negan and his dirty mouth

Author’s Note: Thanks for sticking around! I recently graduated from college so I have a bit more time to write and am hoping to make weekly posts from now on :) All the support is amazing. Thanks to @i-am-negan-trash for always helping me with my silly questions! Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list!

GIF credit: @grungedaddykinks

  “Holy shit, Scarlet!”

The sound of Cara’s voice echoing off the walls of the main hall as she came back from the restroom caused Scarlet and Negan to snap apart with a loud, mouthy smack.

Scarlet quickly backed up, hitting the backs of her legs on the edge of a table. She pressed her lips together and desperately tried to suppress the burn in her cheeks. Negan stayed where he was, running a hand over his mouth. As their eyes met, she knew this wasn’t over.  

“You’ll never believe what they brought back!” Cara continued, finally emerging from the back hall with a small box in her hands. She looked up with a smile that quickly vanished from her face as she registered the scene in front of her.

“Oh, sir, I’m so sorry,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides, addressing the leader. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

“It’s cool, CarBear,” Negan said, flashing a toothy grin. “Now I know why Connor’s dick was so hard getting those poptarts.”

Cara smiled, nervously gesturing with the hand holding the box that evidently held poptarts. She opened her mouth to say something but the only sound that came out was a nervous gurgle. Scarlet made a mental note to ask Cara who Connor was.

When Scarlet met Cara’s eyes, Cara’s face immediately dropped and her brows pulled together.

“Woah, Scarlet, your mouth! It’s bleeding,” she said, striding over. She reached forward but Scarlet’s arm snapped out before Cara could reach her. It was instinct, like that of a wounded animal. No thought or bias went into it; Scarlet’s only goal was defense.

Scarlet could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she squeezed Cara’s wrist with no idea of her own strength. Cara grimaced as her fingers turned white and she tried to pull away from Scarlet’s grasp.

A small touch to Scarlet’s waist snapped her out of it. Negan was standing to her side, his ungloved fingertips touching the bare skin between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans.

With a gasp, Scarlet dropped Cara’s wrist. “Oh, Jesus, Cara, I’m so sorry,” she stammered.

She quickly used the hand that had just been holding Cara’s wrist in a death grip to gently wipe at the blood she now felt trailing down her mouth. The cut that Slim had sliced into her lips had broken open as a result of Negan’s kiss.

Through a breathy laugh Cara said, “No it’s fine, it was my fault. I moved too fast.” She was rubbing the indents of Scarlet’s fingers from her flesh. The way Cara looked at her made Scarlet sick with guilt. She felt like some manic animal that yelped whenever someone got too close. Her friend had just been trying to help her, not hurt her.

“At least you didn’t choke me out like poor Dr. Carson,” Cara said, smiling a small smile. Through her peripheral vision, Scarlet saw Negan shoot his eyebrows up and lean back slightly. She grinned back at Cara, enjoying the lightening of the mood.

“Sir,” Cara continued, while wiggling her pinkening fingers. “This is Scarlet. She is the one you pulled on the run before this last one.”

Negan’s face softened as he slid a smooth, sultry glance at Scarlet. His eyes burned hotter as he slowly grinned.  “I know.”

Cara raised an eyebrow as she watched the blush spread across Scarlet’s cheeks.

Negan must have sensed Cara’s interest and decided to humor it because he turned to her and said, “We knew each other a while ago.”

It was either the influence of her leader towering over her or the retreating threat of Scarlet jumping her that made Cara not press any further. Maybe both.

A group of people came in through the doors Negan had previously been lurking in, carrying supplies. Scarlet recognized a few of them and smiled as they walked past.

As Negan turned, the entire demeanor of the group shifted. Every single person nodded toward him and turned forward to place their supplies on empty tables, moving with urgency that begged to be praised. 

Look at me, sir. I’m a hard worker, sir. Reward me, sir.

Scarlet shot a glance at Negan, seeing him bask in the silent surrender of his people. He had always been a bit arrogant but this was next level.

“Great job, is there anything else left?” Negan inquired, his voice loud enough to echo.

A tall, black-haired man stepped forward. His confidence was nothing compared to that of his leader, but it was noticeable. “No, sir. This is the last of it.”

Negan nodded. “We’ll sort it out tomorrow. I’m beat as fuck.” The others nodded and restarted their chatter, slowly making their way out of the building. A blonde woman Scarlet vaguely recognized pulled herself from the group and came over to Cara, asking her a question about some supplies Cara had moved earlier that day.

As Cara and the blonde spoke, Negan spun around, stopping to face Scarlet with a small backwards bend of his waist. The way he cocked his eyebrow and smirked out of one corner of his mouth tugged at her chest and she couldn’t stop the smile that curled at her own throbbing lips.

“Well, ladies,” Negan said, addressing the three of them but keeping his eyes on Scarlet. “I’m off. Leave this shit here and we’ll deal with it later.” Cara and the blonde smiled and nodded, not seeming to notice his blatant disregard of their presence, and returned to their conversation.

“You,” he then said, pointing at Scarlet. She raised her eyebrows, to which he responded with a widening of his grin. “Come to my place later,” he said. The emphasis he placed on the first word of his sentence turned Scarlet’s core into warm honey and she swallowed, trying not to grin. His smile shrank slightly but the light remained in his eyes. “We have a lot to talk about.”

Scarlet met his eyes and gave him a small nod.  

He spun around before Scarlet could respond further and began to walk toward the door. Scarlet had moved to join Cara and the blonde but she stopped in her tracks as she noticed Negan stop and quickly turn back around. He closed the space between them in two strides and his lips brushed her ear as he leaned down to whisper:

“Oh, and those cat-like reflexes of yours reminded me of how much I love a feisty pussy.”

“So who the hell is Connor?” Scarlet said, around the beer bottle lightly pressed to her aching bottom lip.

Cara had cashed in some of her extra points for a six pack and the two women were stretched out on Cara’s bed, enjoying the way the alcohol warmed their veins. Scarlet made a promise that she would repay Cara once she figured out how to earn her own points.

Cara giggled. “I honestly wouldn’t have an answer if you had asked me that question a week ago. We were mostly just friends.”

“‘Were’ being the key word here,” Scarlet said, smiling.

“It happened so fast! You know how it goes,” Cara said, shifting her weight to the side facing Scarlet. “One minute you’re up late one night sorting through a giant mountain of supplies and the next you’re--” she trailed off with a dramatic wave of her beer, a sappy grin on her face.

“You’re fucking in said pile of supplies,” Scarlet offered, with a tip of her bottle.

Cara choked on a swig of beer, laughing in between coughs.

“Simply put, yes,” she finally said, giggling.

Scarlet smiled and looked down. She enjoyed feeling so carefree; she hadn’t felt anything like it in God knows how long.

“So,” Cara said, “When are you supposed to go talk to Negan? And how long am I supposed to wait to hear the ‘we knew each other a while ago’ story?”

Scarlet smiled, careful not to break open her lip again.

“I dunno, he just said tonight. I don’t want to interrupt anything important,” she said.

“Oh you wouldn’t be,” Cara said. She knocked her bottle against her teeth and grimaced.

“What do you mean? He just got back from a run, and it looked pretty important. I’m sure there’s a ton of shit for him to do besides talk to me”

Cara gave Scarlet a pointed look. “Sweetie, if you know him at all, you know how much he values women. Especially his women. And by the way he ravaged you with his eyes today I take it that was the case ‘a while ago,’” Cara made air quotations, with one hand still holding her beer bottle, “And still is. The minute you walk into his place he’ll stop everything for you.”

Scarlet looked down at the bottle pressed between her palms. She wasn’t quite sure how that made her feel and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about him at the moment. The hours since their kiss were filled with Scarlet turning the situation over and over in her mind, trying to understand how it had been possible for her to feel so strongly so fast.

Truthfully, throughout the months she spent at Montgomery, she had taught herself to suppress nearly every emotion imaginable and had thought she could never feel anything again. But having Negan’s breath mingling with her own again had made everything rush to the surface. She felt very overwhelmed.

“You have to give me some background here, girl. I can see the gears turning in your head,” Cara said. “You don’t have to tell me everything. But I want to be here for you and I need a little bit more to go off of.”

Scarlet let out a breath and smiled quickly before starting.

“It’s a lot so I’ll be brief for now. But yeah, we did know each other a while ago. Before I was at Montgomery.”

Scarlet was the unofficial leader of a small group--mainly because she had a big mouth and spoke her mind. She was smart and strong and thrived off of survival and humanity. People did what she said and she liked that.

Negan had found her and a few others after their camp had been swept away in a flash flood. It had happened so fast that none of them had anything on them but the sopping clothes hanging off their bones.

As the first group of Saviors surrounded them, Scarlet stood to speak but Negan had scared the voice right out of her. He was tall and demanding and loud--louder than her. Though he and his people were saving them, it had felt very forced: there was no room to wander from his orders--what he said happened, and everyone knew that.

They were well off with a hearty group of people; it had to have been just before they founded the Sanctuary. As his people took hers in, she grew closer to him. Initially, it was just professional: two leaders trying to merge people into a group that wouldn’t be eaten alive. The days of planning and organizing turned into nights of talking and touching and eventually made it to weeks of never leaving each other’s side.

They were the best of partners in all imaginable ways: their physical compatibility was equal to their ability to fight and lead together. An apocalyptic king and queen ruling over their small, yet strong kingdom.

The night it all changed was a night forever burned into Scarlet’s memory both literally and figuratively. As she etched it out in a way Cara could understand: the images of the fire and blood-soaked intruders danced before her eyes and she recalled the way the smoke in her lungs mingled with the burn of her throat as she screamed for Negan. She could never forget the pain of the blow to the base of her skull that had dropped her straight to the ground, keeping her from reaching Negan and the others. As she spoke, she could hear the sound her body made on the gravel as it was dragged out of the camp and she could still feel sticky fingers on her limbs as she was lugged her into the back of a pickup truck.

She did not, however, have the words to describe the complete emptiness she felt when she woke to her hands bound and a gag shoved down her throat. Her first day alone, ripped from her partner, did not deserve words. Neither did the rest of her past: the time spent with the savages that had initially kidnapped her, her innumerable nights alone after escaping, her imprisonment at Montgomery.

Neither woman spoke for a few moments after Scarlet finished her brief synopsis.

“Scarlet,” Cara began. Her hands fumbled with the empty beer bottle she had in her gasp similarly to the way she fumbled with what to say.

“It’s okay,” Scarlet said, her voice feeling small. “It’s over with. And hopefully turning around for the best.”

Cara nodded with a smile.

Suddenly, a rhythmic knock at the door rang out. Cara pulled her brows together in question and Scarlet shrugged. Both stood and Cara went for the door as Scarlet gathered the few bottles on the floor by the bed.

With her mind still elsewhere, Scarlet cradled the bottles to her chest and made her way from the bedroom to the kitchen. She heard Cara talking at the door. “Oh, sir, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Well, who were you expecting? The goddamn Girl Scouts selling cookies?”

Negan was leaning against the doorframe, half-shrouded in shadow from the poorly-lit hallway outside Cara’s quarters. The smirk on his face softened his sarcastic snap.

Scarlet’s heart swelled and instead of going to the kitchen, she set the bottles on a small table nestled in a crook by the door, where Cara kept her keys and her gun.

Coming to Cara’s side, she greedily took in the full picture: Negan clad in jeans and a white t-shirt, hands loosely sticking from his front pockets as he let his body rest against the doorframe. His eyes were soft and warm and lazily-drooped with a glimmer of a grin at the corners. She didn’t see the brutal leader she knew he must be, she just saw the man who had saved her more times than she could count in more ways than she could ever know. 

“Two boxes of Thin Mints, please,” she cooed.

Tag list:  @neganisking @warriorqueen1991 @negans-network @mwesterfeld1985 @theonethatgotaway213 @fiftypercentmoreintoyou @starbabysparkle

[2-fast-2-curious]

Work Trip

Pairing: Negan x reader

Warnings: inappropriate language and relationship between boss and employee, mentions of exhibitionism because…um this is me we’re talking about, outdoor sex.

Words: 1570

Author’s Note: Requested by @prettyepiic  Who basically wrote the summary for me:

“Ok. I want Negan to be some big wig bossman and I’m his little naive secretary. I think he’s smashing good looking but I never realize it until he hits on me. Somehow we fuck and it’s nasty naughty goooood.

The first piece of Negan writing I’ve done that doesn’t feature a threesome. If that’s your thing, check it out here.

You were organizing your desk. You were still fairly new at your job and eager to impress, especially Negan, you boss. You heard elevator to the top floor chimed signalling that Negan would soon be making his appearance. You smiled hearing his gravely voice. “Y/N, how are you sweet cheeks?”

“I’m fine Negan. The reports are on your desk and you have a meeting at 11 to discuss the new Atherton Solutions project” Negan gave you a smile that made your heart race. You didn’t think you would ever get used to Negan and his dashing good looks.

Negan scrolled through his phone, looking at emails. “What are you doing this weekend?”

You shrugged, you didn’t have any plans. You were just planning on watching some television while snuggled under the covers. “Nothing”

Negan raised his eyebrow. “How does a gorgeous girl like you have nothing to do? No dates?”

You blushed and shook your head. You didn’t want Negan to know how unlucky in love you were. “Those men don’t know what they’re missing.”

Negan frowned when he read a particular email that put a damper on his weekend plans. “Well Y/N, it’s a good thing you don’t have anything to do because I’ve got a last minute meeting with shareholders in Los Angeles and you’re coming with me.”

You were surprised, you weren’t exactly sure how your presence would help Negan deal with the meeting. “Are you sure?”

Negan looked up from his phone. “Of course doll, I’ll need a flight and place booked by the end of today”

“Yes, sir.” You got on your phone and began working on it right away.

Negan insisted that you accompany him in first class. You still considered this a work trip so you spent the entire ride reading boring business books when you would’ve rather been feasting your eyes on erotica. You were hoping nothing you planned would fall through this weekend.

You beamed as Negan drove up the long winding driveway in his rental car. The sizable house with windows for walls was coming into view and you were relieved that house looked just like the photos online. “Negan, I hope this is up to your standards.”

Negan cut the engine and let out a low whistle as he got out of the car. “It more than fucking exceeds them, darlin’.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Negan helped you with your bags as the two of you entered the house. You gave him a tour, showing him the master suite where he would be staying which was equipped with the same floor to ceiling windows in the rest of the house. It also had views of infinity edge pool as well as the entire city of Los Angeles.

Negan nodded. “Thanks, Y/N.” Negan began unzipping his suitcase. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get settled and prepare for my 5 o’clock meeting.”

You went downstairs to your room which was much smaller than Negan’s but equally nice. You unpacked your things and snuggled under the cover. You logged onto Tumblr and read new work from some of your favourite authors. It wasn’t long before you heard the sound of Negan’s rental car pulling out of the driveway.

You gingerly checked the premises and sure enough, Negan was gone. You smiled to yourself, it would be a while until he got back. You quickly ran back to your room and changed into your swimsuit. The feature that really sold your on booking the house for Negan’s trip was the pool. Since the house was built at the top of a hill, the pool looked like it extended right into the Pacific Ocean. Ever since the plane landed, you couldn’t wait until you could feel the cool water on your overheated skin. You dove into the crystal clear water and swam to your heart’s content. When you wore yourself out, you laid out on one of the lounge chairs to dry off. You yawned, you had always had terrible jet lag, your eyelids felt heavy and you found yourself dozing off.

You were awoken by the sound of a loud splash. Your eyes jerked open, the sight before you was unexpected. Not only was it now nighttime but your boss was shirtless, swimming laps in the room. You couldn’t help but stare, he had an amazing body. You had always wondered what was underneath those suits that he wore and now that you knew, you wanted to commit the image to memory.

“Y/N would you be a doll and hand me a towel?” You wiped the sleep from your eyes and quickly grabbed the nearest towel. You shamelessly watched as Negan got out of the pool and towelled off.

Negan smirked when he caught you staring. “Maybe we should hold all our meetings like this.”

You blushed, looking down at your feet. You forgot you were still wearing your swimsuit from this afternoon.

Negan took a seat on one of the lounge chairs, “You know, Y/N, if I wasn’t your boss and I saw you walking down the beach looking like that, you can bet, I’d try to get your number.”

You bit your lip. “I could say the same about you.”

Negan raised his eyebrows. “Really?” You couldn’t read Negan’s expression and weren’t sure if you had said the wrong thing.

Negan beckoned you over. You followed his instructions and sat at the end of the lounge chair Negan was sitting on. Negan cupped her chin and before your mind had time to remind you that he was your boss, Negan kissed you.

You rested your arms on his shoulders and Negan shifted your body so you were sitting in his lap. You undid your top and Negan wasted no time in getting his mouth on your breasts. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he flicked his tongue on your hard nipple. You leaned back as Negan made his way down your body, his lips and stubble grazed against the skin of your torso, leaving a delightful sensation. Negan kissed your hipbones before pulling down your bottoms.

Negan dipped his fingers in your wetness. “Damn Y/N, you’re fucking wet.”

“You make me wet all the time, Negan.” You watched as he ran his tongue over your folds. “Sometimes after work, it’s so unbearable that I have to pleasure myself in the bathroom before I can go home.”

You could feel his cock harden at your admission. “Let me give you what you’ve been fantasizing about, my dirty girl.”

You licked your lips as Negan pulled down his swim trunks, seeing him in his naked glory for the first time. There was something about the ambience, outside with the moonlight and city skyline illuminating him, it made Negan look extra sexy. You decided to let him know. “I can’t wait to be bouncing on your hard cock.”

Negan groaned as you wrapped her lips around his stiff member, tasting the precum he was leaking from his tip. He grabbed a condom from the pocket of his trousers which were neatly folded on a nearby table. You carefully sunk down onto his fully erect cock. You placed your hands on the armrest to steady yourself as you rode him.

Negan face was buried in your chest, leaving love bites. “You like that Y/N? Fucking your boss out here in the open. Do you think anyone is in those houses below us are watching? Tell me what you think about when you’re playing with yourself after work.”

You let out a moan as Negan rubbed her pussy. “I think about you asking me to come to your office, stripping me, and fucking me against the window. Giving a show to all those people who work in the office buildings across the street.”

“Who knew my secretary was such a filthy little thing? You want those bored office workers to observe how fucking well you take my cock? Watching how hot you look when you’re getting fucked? Seeing how all this tension between us that has been building between us is now spilling over?” Negan could feel your body shaking at his words. “We didn’t even have time to get inside the house and up the fucking stairs before we ripped our fucking clothes off.”

You grabbed your own breasts, pinching your nipples as Negan rubbed your clit with vigour. “Negan, I’m close.”

Negan moved his hands to your hips and began controlling your pace, making you ride him harder. “Cum for me, Y/N. Let everyone know you’re getting fucked better than you’ve ever been.”

“Yes! Negan! Yes!” You screamed as your orgasm ran through your body making you shudder. After your orgasm subsided you could feel a flood of warmth fill the condom.

You got off of Negan and stretched your body out on the chair as Negan went back inside the house to get rid of the condom. No longer fueled by lust, you and your naked body were finally realizing how cold it was. Luckily Negan came back outside with blankets and pillows. Negan sat next to you and pulled you flush against him. He draped a blanket over your naked bodies as you snuggled your face into his chest. “Goodnight, darlin’.”

You yawned, enjoying the feeling of his hand running up and down your spine. “Goodnight, Negan.”

[negansmutweek]

Well Hello There

Hello Darlings! It's been a while... I hope everyone is having a super sexy hiatus... 

I think we might be overdue for a smut week or weekend??? 

What do y’all think? 

I’m thinking perhaps mid-July ish... Does that give everyone enough time to prepare their minds, bodies and word documents? 

Let me know... 

[a-tired-bitch]

You Should Know Better Pt.16

23 Parts:  I  -  II  -  III  -  IV  -  V  -  VI  -  VII  - VIII  -  IX  -  X  -  XI  -  XII  -  XIII -  XIV  -  XV  -  XVI  -  XVII  -   XVIII  -  XIX  -  XX  -   XXI  -  XXII  -  XXIII

MASTER LIST

YSKB MASTER LIST

Summary: Shooting the shit and talking about his wife, Joe and Dustin get a call to a familiar residence.

POV: Joe

Characters: Joe Merriweather, Dustin Ayers (Italics) Vicky (Indented Italics), Doug (Indented Normal)

Word Count: 2700ish

Author’s Note: Thanks to @meanandshallow for the proofing. It’s been exactly a month since I’ve updated, so enjoy Joe and Dustin teasing each other. Ending the decade with YSKB and bringing in the new decade with a Negan AU oneshot, whoop whoop. 

Warnings: Even though the call is a domestic, there’s no domestic violence happening. There’s swearing as usual

Quote: "Look, I don’t need all that, I need the cliff note version.“

”…But seriously, you look just as shitty as you did yesterday.“ Dustin muttered with a mouthful of food. “I bet beneath those aviators,” he pointed his fork at Joe, “those pretty brown eyes are cozying up with some black bags.” Scoffing at his own joke, the man turned away, tossing his utensil into a Tupperware before placing it beside him.

With a deep sigh, a slightly hungover Joe brought a hand up to his face, his fingertips disappearing beneath the frames to rub his tired eyes. “Are you flirting with me?” He questioned, dropping his hand onto the door side. “Because if you are, I’m all for a workplace romance, just don’t tell Claire.” Turning slowly, he faced his partner, a playful grin gracing his lips.

“Shit, man, you down for a quickie then? Take this thing to another level?” Dustin leaned out of his window, “We can go behind a building and get frisky in your truck bed. Hell, we can even call Claire and let her watch, but two,” he raised two fingers, “options come from that. Number one:,” he retracted a finger, “having her watch would really rustle her jimmies and then there’s number two:,” he raised his middle finger again, “she’ll love the show so much that she’d want to join, but you see, once we start, I can’t share.”

The two men attempted to keep a hint of seriousness to the conversation, but seconds later, laughter erupted from both vehicles. Joe, on one hand, cocked his head back and slapped his hand again his thigh. Dustin, on the other hand, covered his face and shook his head.

After a few moments of cheerful laughter, Dustin wiped an invisible tear from his cheek as the chuckles turned into scoffs. “On a serious note, how are you? You okay? I know you took Wednesday off from teaching, but have you taken a day off from drinking? My man, have you set the bottle down after the barroom bombshell?”

Speaking of frisky business in a truck bed, the impending threat Joe’s own previous experience with Natalie loomed over him. Quickly shaking his head, he stared back at Dustin whose cheeks were red from laughter. “A mans gotta eat, sleep, shit, and shower, right?”

“He’s gotta rub one out every now and then or get some workplace romance, but yeah, I guess you’re kind of right?” Dustin answered, slightly confused.

With a quick ‘hm’, Joe scoffed before speaking. “I’m doing fine. The whole situation is pretty fucking shitty, but it’s not the end of the world.” Pulling his aviators from his face, Joe tossed them into the adjacent seat. “As for the whole drinking thing. I mean, yeah, I drank that night and the following morning - you left pretty early, so, I drank whatever I had stored away before laying in a puddle of my own pity for the rest of the day.”

Shifting in his seat, Joe wrung out his hands. “But don’t worry, I can control my drinking.” The tone of the older man was sincere and almost apologetic as both men slowly stared at each other, locking eyes, and exchanging a single nod - both well aware of the sensitivity of the topic.

Looking away, Joe turned in his seat, opening the center console and retrieving a crossword puzzle. “Plus, even if I wanted to drink from sunrise to sunset for the last three days, I couldn’t since I’m stuck with your ass for half the day.”

Listening intently to the man, Dustin watched as people walked around the shopping plaza. “Hey, now,” Dustin exclaimed, snapping back to look at Joe. “If you want my ass for the other half of the day, you can have it. Hell, maybe even take shifts, whatever floats your boat and whatever makes you happy.”

Rolling his eyes as far back as he could, an exasperated sigh fell from Joe’s lips as he shook his head.

“Okay, okay, tell me, if drinking and the bombshell aren’t the issues, then what is it?” Dustin asked, picking up on the man’s slight annoyance.

“You’re right, drinking isn’t the issue, but the bombshell is.” Placing the puzzle on his lap, Joe pulled his black-rimmed glasses from the dashboard cubby. “You see, I was able to deal with the stresses of teaching, policing, and Claire leaving, but since she’s back in the picture, like, I know it’s only been a few days, but damn…,” Joe shook his head as if he was punched square in the face, “it’s like everything just fell onto me at once.” Pausing, he placed his glasses on. “Either that or I’m just now realizing my stress.”

Watching the older man brought the puzzle to rest on the steering wheel, Dustin bit down on his lower lip. “Well,” he began, releasing his lip, “the best thing to do is cut out that stress. You see, Claire is the cause to this effect and we both know that’s the best starting point - cut the bitch out and pry those papers from her hands, that’s if she was serious about that thing.” Dustin stared intently at his partner, searching for any sign of emotion. “And if you want, take some time off from teaching the younglings.”

“You just want me to stick around, now don’t you?” Joe teased, his sights never breaking from the paper.

“You caught me there!” Dustin defensively raised his hands before dropping them. “I already lost my wife to a much more civil and clean divorce, but losing you?” Dustin sucked his teeth and squinted his eyes. “Couldn’t do it. Can’t lose my other lover,” he jested.

With his eyes locked onto the puzzle, Joe pointed the pen at the blond-haired man, “I knew it,” he shook his head, “keeping me around for your own selfish needs.” He shook his head as if he was disappointed before switching back to the real topic. “But yeah, I’ll be doing that - the whole cutting, prying, and taking a break thing.”

“Speaking about doing it, how are you and the mom? I’m assuming she knows about the whole divorce slash marriage thing, but does she know about the recent stuff? If not, do you plan on telling her?”

Slowly tearing his gaze from the puzzle, Joe absentmindedly watched the cars on the road before slowly transitioning his sights onto Dustin. Fingers began to mindlessly tap against the paper as the scenario of telling Natalie played in his mind.

With his mouth slightly agape, he returned to his puzzle. “No,” he answered firmly, “I don’t plan on telling her because it’s not her fight to fight and there’s absolutely no need to involve another party into an already messy situation.”  He paused for a moment, running a hand along his cheek. “Plus, I’m not romantically involved with her. Like, I’m involved because we’ve had sex and all that shit, but romantically?” Joe scoffed a single time. “No, not at all. At least, for the time being.”

Just as his younger counterpart was about to answer, the crackling of the radio broke through.

Grateful for the interruption, Joe finished writing an answer before returning the puzzle to its rightful resting place.

Listening to the radio and reading the print that popped up on the computer, the information of the call was revealed - it was a domestic situation at a residence Joe was very familiar with.

“Speaking of stress, looks like my favorite lovebirds are at it again.” Joe jested as he brought the truck to life.  "I need you to tag along because Doug isn’t a fan of me.“ He ordered before driving off. 

The once silent wooded area came to life with the sound of tires rolling over gravel and the engine inching closer to the residence.

Scanning the area, brown eyes hopped from parked cars to a puppy chained near a dog house and eventually up to the trailer where a woman was smoking a cigarette.

With the truck coming to a stop, Joe removed the keys from the ignition and hopped out, clasping the keys onto his belt and slamming the door shut.

Adjusting his duty belt, he made his way over to Dustin. “Every time I come here, I have three issues. Issue one: Doug is usually intoxicated. Issue two: Doug usually goes to jail. And issue three: that poor dog is always chained there. I’m telling you, next time I come out here, I’m taking the fucking thing home with me.  

              “Any day is a good day when I see Sargent Merriweather.” The woman yelled from the porch, watching as the two men approached the dwelling.

Saluting Vicky with a cordial smile, Joe detoured and walked towards the dog. Upon reaching the pooch, he knelt and welcome the friendly kisses. “I think she means bad day, but who knows,” Joe whispered to the dog.  

              “Listen, hun, I called you to take Doug to jail, not to play with my dog.“ The woman took a drag from her cigarette. "It’s the same old situation, so, take him and go.”

Taking to his feet, Joe left the dog’s side and made his way up the stairs. “'Same old situation’, huh?” Resting on the last step, he continued. “You guys aren’t even married, so, go to court, evict him, get a restraining order, and press charges. Boom…,” Joe clapped his hands once, the sound echoing throughout the area, “Problem solved. No more ‘same old situation’.”

           “I also didn’t call for you to give me advice, I called —.”

“You called us to handle your issue and arrest whoever. Yes, we get it, but we can’t just waltz in and take him. You gotta explain what happened; give us a reason. You know, establish the elements and if anything even happened.” Dustin interrupted, annoyance running high in his tone.

Taken back by Dustin’s comment, Joe exchanged a glance with the man. “Kid’s got a point.” He admitted, shifting on the wooden steps. “Now why don’t you tell us what happened,” Joe said sternly, retrieving a pen and notepad from his pocket.

With raised brows, the woman glared at Dustin, the two of them engaging in a battle of eye contact. “Look, I’d love to have this contest, but to be quite honest, we’ve got better things to do, like figuring out what happened.”

           “I’m not a fan of you, Officer…,“ she leaned in, reading the name on his tag. "D. Ayers.”

“It’s okay, ma'am, I don’t get paid to be liked nor to have fans. I get paid to enforce the law and handle issues.”

Stepping onto the porch, Joe situated himself between the two bodies. “Stop it.” He ordered, glancing over his shoulder. “Both of you.” He cautioned his partner before turning back to Vicky. “Tell me what happened.”

                Faking a laugh, Vicky discarded her cigarette. “I come home from work and this lousy sack of shit is sprawled out on the couch, surrounded by a mess of cigarette butts, beer cans, and TV dinners…,” taking to her feet, she approached the duo, “anyways, I start bitchin’ at him to get a job, he starts bitchin’, and even the dog starts bitchin’. It’s not even that —”

Looking up from his paper, Joe rolled his head, cracking his neck. “Look, I don’t need all that, I need the cliff note version.”  Peering through the screen door, Joe noticed Doug getting up. “Tell me, did anything physical happen between the two of you? Did you hit him or did he hit you? If you answer ‘yes’ to any of these questions, explain to me why verbal turned into physical.”

Casting a glance over his shoulder, Joe motioned towards the door, resulting in Dustin approaching it and Joe staring back at Vicky.

        “No and no, but he’s drunk and I want him —.”

Joe raised his hand to stop her. “Listen, you have experience with this type of situation after my last visit. If Doug is just drinking and laying on the couch, doing nothing, well, he isn’t committing a crime. You didn’t hit him. He didn’t hit you. Just leave the drunk alone. Now, if it’s a physical altercation, then call us, we’ll be happy to handle it, but right now, our hands are tied.”

The opening of the front door forced Joe to look at the incoming party member. “Surprise, we’re back for the second time this month.” Joe deadpanned, watching as the man stood in the doorway.

                  “Sorry, popo, can’t come in. Don’t wanna catch swine flu, not after last time.” Doug insulted, ignoring the greeting and poking Joe in the chest twice.

Taking a step back, Joe glanced at Dustin before clasping his hands over his crotch. “Doug, I’ve been nice and have always worked with you, but right now, I’m going to strongly advise you to not poke me because the cordial attitude I have is going to go out the window and you’re going to get an attitude you don’t like.”

Eyeing the man, Joe watched as he dug his hands into his jean shorts. “Going to have to advise you keep your hands out of your pockets, too.”

                 “What are you going to do? Shoot me?” The man asked with a scoff as he took his hands out and lifted them.

Annoyed, Joe dropped his head, his eyes lingering on the wooden panels for a moment. “Yeah, because that’s what we do. We shoot people. We cause harm to people. We make peoples lives turn into horrible messes. ”

Coming into the situation, annoyance and lack of patience was running high for the officer - partly due to his slightly hungover state and the stress that was constantly running through his mind - but with that comment, tension in the air slowly began to rise.

“Am I feeling threatened right now? Am I grabbing for my gun? Do you see it out? Do you plan on doing something that forces me to retrieve either my gun or taser?” Joe questioned, snapping up to look at the disgruntled man who answered him with a slurred 'no’.

“Then calm down, pal. Everything was going smoothly until you came out. Hell, we weren’t even going to take you away, but keep it up and I might have a change of heart - I’d hate to drag you out and scuffle with you like last time.”

                 “You ain’t nothing but a badge and a couple of pussies.”

Pressing his lips together only for him to bare his teeth a second later, Joe rested his hands his belt while glancing up to the darkening sky. “You know what? Go ahead and put your hands behind your back. You’re under arrest for breach of peace.”

With the man obeying his commands and letting a string of derogatory insults and curses fall from his drunken lips, Joe cuffed him, searching his body just a seconds later.

       “Watch, I’ll be out tonight or tomorrow. Just wait and see.”

Pushing the man forward, the three men made their way down the steps and towards Dustin’s SUV. “Yeah, you very well may be.”

       “Yeah?,” the man asked, whipping his head around to look at the officer, “Well, you very well might lose your life.”

“You’re absolutely correct but what’s that mean?” Pulling the man back, forcing him to stop, Joe watched as he stumbled over his feet, nearly falling onto the gravel. “Threatening the life of a police officer, nice job on tacking on another charge.”

Approaching the door to his cruiser, Dustin reached out to open the door, only for a mouthful of spit to land on the handle.

       “Whoops, I meant to spit on the ground.” Doug sassed, a grin on his face.

In an instant, flesh met steel as Joe pressed his body up against the drunk, squishing him against steel and flesh. “Double D - Difficult Doug, that’s your new name. Every time you’re in cuffs, you’ve gotta bust my balls. If you could just cooperate, things would be easy peasy.”

Pulling away, Joe dragged the man backwards, careful with his steps, he made his way over to the adjacent side of the car.

              “I’ll be seeing you again, trust me. What’s your name?” Doug asked as he was pushed into the backseat.

“Too drunk to even remember my name.” Joe scolded, “Don’t worry, it will be on the warrant and report.”

                “Be on your tombstone, too.”

Ignoring the threat, Joe slammed the door closed. “See, I told you he wasn’t a fan of me.” Joe chuckled, walking over to Dustin, patting the man on the back. “The perks of having no cage - I don’t have to listen to assholes on the way to the station.”

[blackleatherjacketz]

My Brother’s Keeper

Negan x Reader

Summary: Your brother runs away from the Sanctuary, and you pay the price.

Warnings: Lemon, NSFW, Coercion, Negan’s Mouth

Word Count: 1572

Tags: This is for @sherrybaby14 for @annablack1102 and her Negan Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange. I hope you like it, Sherry! Also tagging @mblaqgi @negans-network @negansdirtygirl22 @acutecupidity @collette04 @haleyea @genevievedarcygranger @letsby

His whistle sounded in your ears as you washed the blood off your hands, forcing your muscles to contract, your bones to rattle and your blood to boil. You tried your best to ignore it, to focus on the water as it splashed over your hands and down the sink. Instead the whistle only got louder, projecting from its stationary spot in the doorway as it echoed off the walls of the infirmary.

“Can I help you?” You asked shakily, keeping your back to him as you turned off the water and dried your hands on a paper towel.

“I’m sick,” he said smugly, his leather jacket squeaking against the metal doorframe.

“Oh really?” You took in a deep breath and tossed the paper towel into the trash, finally bringing yourself to face him.

“Mmm,” he smirked, pressing his perfectly delectable lips together. He pushed himself off his perch on the doorway, arrogantly swinging Lucille around in a circle as he waltzed toward you. His tall stature and handsome face never got any easier for you to take in, no matter how many times you were forced to look at it.

“I have a problem,” he confessed, walking past you to take a seat on the exam table. “WE have a problem.”

“Is that so?” You tried to ignore how dizzy his cologne made you, your very heart beating wildly in your chest.

“Your brother’s gone.” He admitted angrily, biting his lower lip before his arrogant grin wrenched your guts into a nervous concoction of fear, confusion and arousal. “Took off in the middle of the night with his wife and YOUR mom.” He set Lucille down and stood up, approaching you with long, slow strides.

Your brother… did… what? Your brother left… your mom, too? Without telling you? Without asking? Without saying goodbye? You felt the room start to darken, to get progressively smaller as you looked at the floor to get a grip on the situation. The vast heaviness of your brother’s choices weighed down on your shoulders as your chest began to slump under the pressure.

“Are… are you sure?” you managed to stammer, looking up at him.

“Judging by your reaction, I assume he didn’t let you in on his little secret.” He paused and looked you over, his teeth brightening up the room as he sauntered past your comfort zone. “Now, I know you’re probably wondering why I’m coming to you first instead of your daddy.” His last word came out with a smirk.

“He won’t survive the iron,” you uttered immediately, remembering the heart attack your father suffered before the world turned dark.

“I know,” he leaned in, nuzzling his whiskers against your jawline. “That’s why I’m here,” he sang joyfully.

His breath was hot against your ear, the fine hair on your cheeks battling the bristles of his beard as he got closer. His chest and hips were solid, an immovable force against your body as he pushed you up against the sink, startling your palms onto the counter top. Retracting his head just enough to look at you, his dark lashes brushed against your forehead as he practically breathed his words into you.

“I wanna pick that big ole’ brain of yours for a better option, because, oddly enough, I like your dad, and the last thing I want to do is flat iron his face until I get my hands on your brother.”

“I could work more hours.” You offered, the fear of your father’s demise overshadowing the warmth pulsing between your thighs.

“I don’t need you making mistakes.” He grabbed your chin, the musk of his leather glove swimming into your nostrils as his thigh slid between yours.

“I could…”

“Yeah?” He parted your lips with a pinch, a little bit of drool pooling around the middle as you looked up at him in trepidation. Those golden chestnut hues you were used to seeing had been completely obliterated by their inner circles, his pupils like merciless black holes.

“I could…” you swallowed hard. “You could…” you gasped, the pressure from his thigh drawing out the complicated truth beneath your jeans.

“I could.” He nodded, licking your lips as he shoved you onto the countertop.

Your desire for Negan had always been there, but you never thought he’d feel the same way about you. He had wives at his disposal, women in dresses and high heels whose only job was to satisfy his needs and look pretty. And well, you never really considered yourself to be pretty. Your sister was always the ‘pretty one’, despite the setbacks of the apocalypse. You thought that Negan would approach her for a courtship instead of you, but here he was.

“I’ve tried to avoid you, tried to keep you in here with Doctor Carson.” He started unbuttoning your pants with his other hand. “I mean, I should be dragging your dad out in front of the whole Sanctuary making a cheese fucking toastie of his face, but I can’t do that. I mean, you see what you’re doing to me when I get too close?” He smirked and nodded to the growing bulge in his pants.

“I just can’t seem to trust myself around you.” He licked his lips and unzipped your jeans, fingering the hem of your underwear as he tugged it down your pelvis with the denim. “You know how many times I’ve thought about you? About fuckin’ your brains out in front of everyone?” He let go of your chin to slide your pants down your hips and thighs.

“I can’t be your wife.” You whispered in between deep breaths, lifting your hips off the counter as he pushed the hard fabric down to your shins.

“If I wanted a wife, I’d go talk to your sister,” he smiled, running his thumb down your throbbing length. “All I want right now is you.”

You felt your stomach tighten, clenching at the thought of Negan actually bonding with you on a Biblical level. You watched as he grew against the constricting fabric of his jeans, the grey threads stretching to capacity as your thighs shivered in anticipation.

His fingers touched you first, however, distracting you from his cock as they slid in between your lips, your moisture all but dripping onto the floor. The skin on his digits was rough, brushing against your sensitive spot before sliding inside of you repeatedly until you could no longer silence your excitement. A chorus of moans slowly escaped your chapped lips, drowning out his initial whistle that seemed so loud at the time.

“Oh, you want that, huh?” he asked, seeing you glance at his erection. He grabbed your chin again, this time a little bit rougher as he drew your attention away from his pants. He chuckled and slid another finger inside of you, curling them up and towards him. “You think it’s gonna be that easy? After what your brother did?” He pressed his thumb against your clit, pushing it upward as little waves of pleasure crept up into your stomach.

“I uh…” you breathed, clenching your eyes closed as the neurons in your muscles forced your thighs to twitch. “I just wanted…” You rocked your hips into his knuckles, begging for that synapse to continue its cascade up into your spine.

“You just wanted…what, exactly?” He increased the pressure on your bud, moving it up and down like a light switch as he watched your face change with each flip. “You want to make good on your family’s legacy, is that it?”

You nodded as his thumb finally lit up your entire body, the brightness straightening out your spine and curling your toes as you latched onto his leather jacket. That chain of electricity delivered sensation upon sensation as it took your breath away, washing over you in colors you’d never even seen before. Bright pinks mixed with deep purples as they morphed into the dark reds of the backs of your eyelids. Your moans turned into screams as he kept pushing and pulling inside of you, stretching out your convulsing walls with each thrust. You squeezed tighter around his fingers as your hips bucked into his hand, afraid of feeling dull and dry again after this immense shower of pleasure.

“This is just a trial run, baby, gotta test out the merchandise.” He pulled his fingers out of you, slowly dragging your trail of juices up your pelvis, abdomen and chest until they reached your mouth. “Whaddya think, huh?” He rose his eyebrows as his grip loosened on your cheeks, allowing his fingers to slide past your lips.

You opened your mouth, letting his fingers brush the tangy sweet liquid over your tongue to the back of your throat. He smiled as he kept his grip on you, guiding your head and neck as you practically gagged on your own arousal. Once he was satisfied with how deep you could take him, he drug a trail of spit down your lips and chin before sliding them into his own mouth.

“Good,” you finally whispered.

“Good!” He smiled wide, taking his time to lick each finger before letting go of you entirely.

He took a step back, looking you up and down with a sense of accomplishment as he rubbed his raging erection. “I think I’ll invest, keep your daddy in the clear.” He adjusted himself and winked at you. “See ya tomorrow.”

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 134 - One step closer

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

MASTERLIST

Chapter 134 - One step closer

[The weeks drift by, but not so far away from the Sancatuary, Rosita has plans afoot...]

The sky above her head had already grown dark by the time Rosita had almost thought to give up for the night.

She had been out here three or four days in a row now, on the pretence of looking for supplies to give to the Saviours for their monthly offering, when really, she had other more pressing things she needed to do.

After Rick and their group's last run in with Negan, Blake and the Saviours, almost two weeks ago, fear and hysteria had somewhat heightened within their small community.

Blake had told Rick that they would now need to treble their offering, something which just a few weeks in, they were already struggling to do.

And so gas and working vehicles were now a commodity that Rick was rationing to the Nth degree. And Rosita knew that she needed both to be able to go through with her plan. To hit Negan where it hurt. Just as he had done with them time and time again.

And if she was the only one brave enough to go through with it then so be it.

Too many time she had watched Rick and Michonne roll over to the Saviours, fall to their knees and bow to his will.

Well, Rosita wasn't about to do that anymore.

And earlier this evening, finally coming across seven or eight cars piled up along the side of the highway, she had foolishly presumed she had hit the motherlode.

Rosita had been searching for a while now for something suitable, but time after time her plans to get to the Saviours compound had been scuppered by one thing or another over the past few weeks.

First it had been on Rick's orders. Then Tara had asked for help on a five day run a little way south of Alexandria. But now was her chance. She had her gun, all ready to go. A cache of bullets too. And now all she needed was something to take her there.

She knew she couldn't use one their usual cars or everyone would become too suspicious. Perhaps try and stop her. So now she just needed something, anything she could use to make the long and perhaps her last drive to the Sanctuary in.

Although here she was, finally out here with a purpose, trying to find the last piece of the puzzle, and yet frustratingly every car she had tried tonight and the nights gone by had refused to even tick over, either busted or just out of gas.

The dark haired woman paused for a moment, as a walker emerged from the undergrowth just ahead, snapping and snarling as it dragged its decomposing body towards her.

But Rosita barely flinched, tugging out her large knife, before plunging it right through the rotter's soft skull.

She quickly sheathed her knife once more as the figure slumped to the ground, before turning her attention back to the last car on the road.

This was it, her final shot of the night. She would need to get back soon. It would take her at least an hour on foot to get back to Alexandria, and she was beginning to grow cold, weary and hungry.

She hastily pulled open the door to a sleek silver Corolla, before ducking her head inside. And, seeing a key still in the ignition, she gave it a turn.

She waited….

And waited….

Hearing the engine rev and rev, but refuse to turn over.

And so Rosita, about to give up, gave a humongous sigh, just as, to her utter surprise...WHAM! The engine burst into life.

"Aha!" she exclaimed, slapping the steering wheel, elation bursting through her.

And even though after a moment or two the engine died again, the gas gauge reading empty, Rosita knew that this was it. She was one step closer to seeking revenge.

For Abraham, for Glenn, for Olivia and Denise….

All she needed now was to find herself a siphonable amount of gas to get her to the Sanctuary. But that could wait until tomorrow to go out on the search again..

Rosita smiled to herself now on that dark road.

Oh yes, Negan would pay for what he had done.

And if people like that bitch Blake were stupid enough to get involved in him, then that was too bad.

Because Rosita was going to let nothing, and she meant nothing, stand in her way…

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[risingphoenix761]

Tagged by: @kitkat-589 and @slytherkins

Real name: Gemma :D

Fandoms: The ones I've written in? Supernatural, The Walking Dead, Boondock Saints, Phantom of the Opera, and very briefly, Sherlock Holmes (read: one fic). Other stuff? Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Sailor Moon, Good Omens, and plenty others that have slipped my mind atm

Where You Post: formerly, FFN. Currently, here and AO3

Most Popular One-Shot: Here, probably Hell and Apathy (SPN) You want dark fic? I got you! On AO3, stats say Talk Like That (TWD) and with good reason. I just reread it, and I'm blushing. Also proud of myself for the ending. *cackle* Might as well do FFN while we're at it, which looks like "The End of the Rope." (POTO) I'm not giving you links. It's old. It's no longer up to snuff. It's just here because it was the oldest. Overall, I think Talk Like That takes the tippy top spot. It's Negan smut, and the Thirst Squad lives on that stuff.

Wait! Wait! How do you mean "most popular," exactly? Going by hits, Talk Like That knocks it out of the park, but if you're talking kudos, my most popular story on AO3, period, is While You're Awake (TWD). Bethyl shippers, assemble!

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: Here, A Dangerous Game (SPN). No contest. I only wanted to write a smutty Crowley one-shot, but I ended up having too much fun. AO3, it's...also A Dangerous Game. Shucks. FFN, it's Psychotherapy of an Opera Phantom by a landslide. Again, it's old, almost a decade, but I've yet to have more fun with readers than I did with that one. And I dare you to find a more crack-tastic crack fic anywhere. There are literally dozens of versions of POTO, and I threw most of them into a blender and hit puree. 

Favorite Story You Wrote: I'm pretty attached to A Dangerous Game...but my number one fave is St. Fergus (SPN). You might have noticed by now, I'm a little bit of a Crowley fan. I mean, just a tad. I got to work with the wonderful, wonderful Tara on a bang, and everything turned out amazing. I'm so proud of that one. Redemption, existentialism, deep thoughts and ponderings, ALL THE SNARK, and a bit of meta for good measure. It needs a sequel. It's getting a sequel. It deserves it. <3

Tied for fave is "The Phantom's Phoenix," but I'll talk about that in another post.

Story You Were Most Nervous To Post: That's a toss up between Condemnation (POTO) and Finer Print (SPN), and for similar reasons. Both of them are super dark, but the first one involved a character dynamic that would get you flamed to kingdom come back in the day, and the second is a certain kind of twisted. I thought the first would get me all kinds of hate, and that nobody would read the second, but the same amount of work went into them. I stayed faithful to the OG source material for Condemnation, which in this case means a horror novel published in 1910, and finishing Finer Print on time was...an experience.

How Do You Come Up With Titles: There's no system. I just go with what fits. Sometimes I use song lyrics. Sometimes it's some kind of nod to the theme. My favorite title to date is Warrior Shepherds (BDS), and that came from the text itself. 

Do You Outline? Nope! I used to, but it never worked out. I always ended up moving in another direction, or I stuck to the outline and it turned out rigid and forced. The most I'll do these days is get a vague idea of something I want to include, and keep my eyes peeled for a way to throw it in there. This way, everyone is surprised at the ending!

Complete: Aside from several dozen one-shots, there's Condemnation, a retelling of the original novel. The Phantom's Phoenix (POTO), featuring my first and favorite OC which, while not as good as my newer stuff, still has some of the most beautiful prose I've ever written. Just Being Neighborly (BDS), a prequel to Warrior Shepherds that I wrote for kicks. 

In Progress: If it's only on FFN, safe to call it abandoned… Otherwise, there's A Dangerous Game, which is just magic and kink so far (but what more could you want?). Graceless (SPN), a collaboration with @fanfiction-and-fantasies that's getting angsty (wait until you see the next chapter!). Warrior Shepherds, a kinda-sorta-but-not-really repackaging of the movie but now featuring one smart-ass OC. Amaryllis (BDS), a slow burn I'm dead set on picking up again for reasons of representation. And then there's the matter of the Interactive Nightmare with Tara...

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: UGH. SO MANY. I have eleven SPN bingo cards, if that gives you an idea. I've got my heart set on a crossover with BDS, along with follow-ups to Take Care Of It (TWD) and Can't Tell Her No (TWD). There's also more to be said for Trade You (TWD) and Knock First (SPN).

Do You Accept Prompts? Sometimes… Can't guarantee when I'll get to them, though. I've still got a list of mashups from last year that's glaring at me from my Docs.

Upcoming Story You're Most Excited To Write: COLLABS! It's easy to get excited when you have someone to get excited with. That narrows down to Graceless, the Interactive Nightmare, and a St. Fergus sequel. And if I ever finish Warrior Shepherds, I've got too many ideas for a sequel to do nothing with them.

Tagging: @letsby @genevievedarcygrangerwriting @bamby0304 @itsjustafeelingthatihave @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @neversleepingever @rckyfrk @katehuntington @gneebee and anybody that feels like playing 😎

[negansmutweek]

Negan Smut Week Themes & Prompts

Negan Smut Week Prompts, Themes and Ideas. Once again, using anything from this list is optional. (This is also a great opportunity to finish Ash’s writing challenge prompts if you haven't submitted yours already!) 

The only rules I have are: create something sexy and smutty related to Negan. No minor characters involved in a sexual manner. 

Please create/publish new work (This can be an update to a multi-chapter fic) 

You don't have to be a writer to participate, fan art, aesthetics, photoshop, video, all are welcome. You can link to your fan fiction or Archive of Our Own pages if you choose not to publish here. For long pics, please use the keep reading tab when possible. 

Comic Negan and TV! Negan have an equal seat at the table. 

Please tag properly: #NeganSmutWeek #negansmutweek17 @negansmutweek 

Also, mention @negans-network so they can re-blog and tag #negansnetwork 

Daily Prompts:

Mon Jan 23:  Sparks Fly, At First Sight, I guess I didn't notice

Sentence Prompt: "Hey good lookin' whatcha got cookin?"

Tues Jan 24: Getting the job done, Caught Red Handed, Clean

Sentence Prompt: "Do you ever shut up?"

Wed Jan 25: Hump Day, Weather, Happy Wife/Happy Life

Sentence Prompt: "You like to hold it."

Thurs Jan 26: Well Done, Smile, Famished

Sentence Prompt: "Look what I found!"

Fri Jan 27: Power Play, Revenge, Getaway

Sentence Prompt: "I can explain..."

Sat Jan 28: Celebrate, it's a Sin, Secret

Sentence Prompt: "I love that..."

Sun Jan 29: Inside, Cabin Fever, Domestic (Bliss or Hell)

Sentence Prompt: "Look at this!"

Mon Jan 30: All Business, Now or Never, Flood

Sentence Prompt: "Speak when you are spoken to!"

General Themes, Ideas, Prompts for the Week

Sensory Depravation -Silenced/Mute -Blindfolded -Bound -Five Senses or the lack thereof

Power Play -Femdom -Kneel -Praise -Sir -Choke -Weapons

Alternative Universes

Dream Job (Star Chef, Actor, Astronaut, Stuntman, Politician, etc) 

Nightmare Job (Dishwasher, Factory Worker, Dept of Motor Vehicles)  

He's a character (Vampire, Nobleman, Superhero, Supervillan, Cyborg etc)

Conman

Time Travel/Past or Future Tense

No Zombie Apocalypse

Before ZA

Unsung Heroes & Heroines -Negan/Original Male Character -Negan/Trans Character -Negan/Strong Alternative Lead -Negan/Canon Adult Male Character (Simon, Daryl, Dwight etc) -Negan/Dom or Domme (Negan in a submissive position) -Negan/Olivia

Adult Team Family Pairings (Currently Alive or not) ---No Minors Examples: (Not a complete list, any adult TF is fine)  -Negan/Maggie -Negan/Michonne -Negan/Rosita -Negan/Sasha -Negan/Beth -Negan/Lori -Negan/Andrea -Negan/Eugene -Negan/Aaron -Negan/Rick -Negan/Daryl -Negan/Jesus

Extra points for complete crack: Negan/Spencer

Have fun!!!! xoxo

[blackleatherjacketz]

Sorry it took me a while to respond, but I’m getting my mojo back for this story. So glad you’re here for Ezekiel and the reader! I am too! Updates soon for this story:)

My Brother’s Keeper: Chapter 16

Negan x Reader, King Ezekiel x Reader

Summary: Your brother runs away from the Sanctuary and you pay the price. This Chapter: You try to hide and recover from your first meeting with Negan in the woods.

Author’s Note: Sorry it’s been a while, I was going through some emotional turmoil and couldn’t write for a while, but I’m back. Enjoy! (Gif by @godlaughingwhilstyoumakeplans )

Featuring: King Ezekiel, Morgan, Richard

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Supplies

Word Count: 2137

Read the rest of the story HERE!

Keep reading

[crimsoncomradeposts]

Meet In The Middle - Chapter 3

Fandom: The Walking Dead Characters: Reader, Negan, Arat, OC Word Count: 1,154 AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8666815/chapters/20831332 Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12234223/3/Meet-in-the-Middle Tags: @negans-network

Following your conversation with Negan, the remainder of your day had gone without incident. Much to your relief, Dwight had opted to stay away from the garden to which you tended, and you can’t help but wonder if Negan hadn’t had a talk with him too. Oh, to be a fly on that wall, you think to yourself as you pick another tomato from the vine, adding it to the growing pile of vegetables in your wicker basket. The kitchen would surely be over the moon with today’s selection of various produce, and the mere thought of anything other than canned beans has you practically salivating, but even as your mind wanders to the plethora of possibilities for tonight’s dinner, you can’t help but replay your most recent memory with him. Your hand moves absentmindedly to your back pocket where the maroon bandana remained since your encounter. Pulling it from its designated place, you pause your work for only a moment as you look down to the fabric that now rests in your palm weightlessly. It hadn’t struck you as odd until now, but as your thumb sweeps across the bandana thoughtfully, the realization hits you that you’d never seen another with this seemingly cherished bandana, not even one of his wives. Surely one of them, if not all, would cart it around like some trophy should they have ever been lucky enough to get their hands on it. And yet here you are, said prize in hand.

“Hey!”

A voice calls out, interrupting your train of thought, and looking up, you spot Arat approaching. Quickly, you pocket the bandana and straighten your posture as she strides across the grass to where you currently stand, gun strapped across her body as it so often is. Arat halts her movements only when she steps close enough to peer into the basket in front of you. You watch silently as she visually inspects the contents of the wicker basket, your eyes narrowing suspiciously whilst you wonder just what it is that she wants. You can’t say that Arat’s been a pain in your proverbial behind, but you two don’t always see eye to eye. While Simon is Negan’s right hand man, it’s plain to see that Arat strives to reach that status herself, and she does so at the expense of the other members of the Sanctuary.

“Looks good.” Finally breaking the silence between you two, she carries on with the one sided conversation. “Get that inside asap. Dinner’s getting started early.”

It isn’t until her head begins to lift in order to look at you again that your expression quickly switches from suspicion to neutrality. You nod your head once in acknowledgement of her order just before reaching down to retrieve the basket full of produce. “Sure thing,” you finally remark, the answer seemingly satisfying the woman standing before you. Mirroring your nod with one of her own, Arat soon turns to leave you behind with the remaining crops so that she can tend to other, unspecified, business.

Puffing out your cheeks, you blow out a breath of air just before turning to gather up the basket that rests on the hard Earth. With the produce now securely in tow, the basket now hanging heavily off of your forearm, you quickly vacate the rows of crops and make your way inside to the kitchen. Though the Sanctuary is far from a former hospital, the grungy scuffed white and green linoleum squares can’t help but pull your thoughts to a time when you’d been admitted to the emergency room for something undoubtedly stupid when you were younger. The walk to the kitchen, though short in its own right, gives you time to reminisce about days long since passed, and reminisce you most certainly do. From holidays with family, to sneaking out during the nights with friends that were once so closed to you, you can’t help but wonder where some of these people are, if they’re still lucky enough to be alive, that is. Then again, are you truly lucky to be around to see the horrors this new world has to offer? As you round the corner into the cafeteria, your mind shifts as well, this time rerouting your thoughts to the bandana in your back pocket. Shit. You would need to deliver that to Negan, and soon. Should someone catch you with that, they’d surely wonder what the hell is going on, not that anything was of course. Then again, there’s the matter of Dwight. If he so much as caught a whiff of the fact that you may be conspiring with Negan against him, well there’s no telling what he may do. He does hold a grudge over the whole iron to the face incident. Not that you can blame him for that.

“Is that fresh zucchini that I smell?” Jemma, the kitchen’s head “chef” as she likes to call herself, comes bounding towards you the moment that you appear within the cafeteria. Her smile is wide, almost Cheshire-like in nature, and you can’t help but find the expression contagious. Since your initial arrival to the Sanctuary, Jemma has been one of the few residents that had warmed up to you from day one, and you’ve been grateful for the friendship ever since. With a nod, you thrust your arm out forward, bearing the actual fruits (and vegetables) of your labor.

“Sure is,” you remark, now handing off the basket to Jemma. “Hey, could you do me a favor and have the team start to prep this today? I’ve got another errand to run, and well, you know how it is.” Though you trusted Jemma with your life, you sure as hell don’t want to let her in on the fact that you’ve been hanging on to one of Negan’s prized possessions. Jemma may be a great friend, but she’s not exactly known for keeping your deepest and darkest secrets. You watch as she lifts a single brow in silent question as to just what it is that you’re up to, but rather than verbalize her inquiry, she merely bobs her head in a nod.

“Yeah, sure thing. But hurry back, okay? You know how antsy the team gets when they’re even one hand short.”

You begin to backpedal, a smile forming in the process, and lift a hand to tap your index finger against the side of your nose; a signal of understanding that you and Jemma had developed long ago. Mirroring your smile with one of your own, she lifts her hand to tap her nose before turning to deliver the vegetables to the remainder of the kitchen. Once she has her back to you, you turn and dart off down the hall in search of the corridor that houses Negan’s quarters. Suddenly, it’s beginning to feel as if this bandana of his is burning a hole in your back pocket.