#while smoking a cigarette yall definitely aren’t supposed to have inside of one of the most expensive nursing homes in america

[thirtean]

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[theplumsoldier]

COACH NEGAN [6]

Your name: submit What is this?

Summary: yall get nasty in his suv

Pairing: negan x reader

Word count: 2396

Warning: eventual smut, explicit language, teacher x student relationship, age-gap, loss of virginity, vulgar language

The ride back to Arid Ridge had been long as ever, though somehow it felt like much less. Throughout the entire ride, you had discreetly been watching Coach Negan when driving. He had smoked two cigarettes in the hour and even though you had always thought anyone smoking must be foul, he looked aesthetically pleasing with the stick in between his lips.

There had not been much talk. Instead, an appreciative silence and peace of heart. Silence was normally something you could not appreciate with people and was more likely to find it awkward than enjoyable, however with Negan, you managed to make it work. You had sat leaned back in the seat, just looking at him only giving your eyes a break when he had tossed you a look every now and then.

Negan pulled up the same place as he had last, not too close to your house and he turned to look at you. His eyes followed your movements as you reached over to pull your gym back from your back seat, and you looked back over your shoulder when he began to speak.

“You played well back there, Y/N,” he spoke, his hazel eyes lingering on yours before they flickered to your parted lips for a second. 

“I’ll be honest–I would’ve guessed you would. . . be mad?” you trailed off while lifting your shoulders as you slowly sat back down, the strap of you back still in your hand. “We still lost.”

He wetted his lips and tipped his head, and your eyes followed the movement.

“How could I be mad at you? You showed–that’s all I really wanted. Didn’t expect by adding just a single great player would magically improve the team's performance.” His hand slid down your arm, raising goosebumps on your skin. “Besides, you just keep impressing me.”

It did not take you long to hide the lopsided smirk plastered on your lips by pressing your mouth against his. Getting on top of him, trying to imitate something you had once seen in a movie. Except in the movie, it was on a sofa and not a car. Dry humping in a car was apparently a tad bit harder than on a sofa, you knew that already when trying to figure out where to rest your legs.

You knew it must not be a pleasant sight and were thankful for the tinted windows, but that did not matter when he let out a strained groan against you, feeling the pressure on his crotch. A sweet harmony of wet kisses and small sounds filled the car and your thighs clenched inherently when feeling the friction as he pressed you down harder, guiding your hips in a roll.

Coach Negan felt your arm snake around his neck and tug lightly at his dark hair, and he wondered if his you had always thought of him like this, or at least for how long. Thinking back on it, he was reminded of almost awkward and dismissive encounters along with times one would even say you avoided him in the halls. As far as he could remember this could only be traced back a year or so and as he concluded you had probably had an eye for him for some time, he smiled against your lips and tugged delicately on your bottom lip, pulling a sound from your throat.

Negan had once been a teenager. He remembered himself once being there; chasing after pretty girls but never having the nerve to do much about a crush. Although the first time he finally took it upon himself to make a bold move he ended up with his current wife, with whom he got many delightful years. And now here he was, cheating on his first love with a student. Was he a bad man? Sure, he would not gainsay the obvious. However, he could not decline such a thrill that followed these unjust actions. He should not be the only suffering part in a damaged relationship, should he?

Swallowing the moan you elicited when feeling his hard growing, he could not stop himself from grinding up in your arousal and your lips left him for a moment, whimpering into the air. His mouth continued down your neck, delicately biting down and suctioning on the tender skin, and you closed your eyes and let your head fall back to savor the feeling of what used to be your hand. His rhythm gave you much more satisfaction than your fingers had ever managed to, and his was not even in your panties yet.

Coach Negan pulled his lips from you, taking in the sweet look of you grinding and panting on top of him. He tipped back your head, holding you at close distance and you felt his breath hover over the salvia spots left on your neck.“You feel what you’re doin’ to me?”

You wanted this, and probably more than anything at this moment–the feel, friction, thrill, tension. It all distributed to the flow of pleasure running in your veins, though, your lack of expertise kept a hint of paranoia in the back of your mind, constantly questioning if what you were doing was right. Ethically, without question were they sinful, but here and now, grinding your sex on his, you wondered if he actually liked you as much as you did him, or if he was simply horny.

“I should get in,” you hummed, biting down hard on your lip to keep any wanton sounds from escaping. The hand playing with the rim of your shirt slowly rose under the material, skimming over your breast supported in the sports bra.

“But this is fun,” he coaxed and his other hand skimmed over your jeans and your eyes met as his large hand squeezed your breast, pulling a low cry from you. “Aren’t you having fun, dear?”

The grinding had stopped and by now you were just sitting still in his lap, watching the slow movement of his fingers hovering over the material of your pant. Negan was clearly taking his time with you, relishing every moment as he toyed with you a little too much. You could tell with certainty the pool in your pantie would leave a stain.

His thump circled your clit over your pants, surely dragging the arousal from between your lips to draw a whorl pattern. The feel was most definitely a pleasurable one, yet you thought just how wonderful it would be if his fingers were under the material. Heart hammering away, you trembled in his lap and dropped your head on his shoulder with a ragged breath, when he added more pressure. Simultaneously to the steady circles, he kept thrusting his hips upward, loving the moans and whimpers he pulled from you, but that all waned off when the moment was invaded by your phone’s ringtone.

Negan grunted and collapsed back down, his hands still holding you down on him as he shifted beneath you. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, a glimpse of something in your eyes and you rested your one hand on his shoulder and the other found his.

“I’m sorry,” you panted and could not help a shy smile from emerging when you saw Negan like this.

“Me too.”

“It’s probably dad calling to check on me. I told him I wouldn’t be home too late,” you explained reaching into your pocket and read on the display you were right. Turning it off, you put it away and looked back up at Negan.

His eyes lingered on yours for some time while keeping his mouth shut, his mind clearly busy. “You’re okay, right?”

It took you no more than a second to understand he was alluding to your father. Since spending the past weeks with him – though the occasion had been few – you had noticed he seemed to care more about your relationship with your father than anyone else ever had.

“Of course,” you replied with an assuring smile, but when Negan held the same expression as before you had answered, you knew he needed more if you had to convince him. You sighed and your eyes briefly flickered to your hand was entwined with Negan’s in his lap. You stopped the fidgeting when you noticed your fingers were toying with his wedding ring. You shifted a bit and looked back up at him as you did so. “I’m good. I’m really good.”

He rested back against the seat and you felt him squeeze lightly on your hips. He let out an accepting breath and gave you a slight smile. Your cell rung once again and sighed getting off Negan.

Slumping back down in the passenger seat and leaned back to get your bag, your hand pulled on the door handle. You were about to get out but not before you looked back at your coach 

“See you Monday,” you smiled and quickly reached over peck his cheek. “Thanks for the ride.” It was not meant to sound like anything but a pure formality, but the words went straight to Negan’s cock.

With those words of adieu, you locked yourself out in the cold and ran up to your house. As last time, Negan watched as you did so, making sure you got inside safely. The prominent hard you had seduced well was not going away without help, Negan knew that much and though he was twenty minutes later than what he would have been, he had the decency to drive down a few streets, before he took care of the problem.

By the time he made it home, he called out his wife’s name as soon as he had locked himself in but heard no response, figuring out she was still at work. Or wherever.

Though he had come to peace with the truth being she was no longer for his to love, he was still abhorred knowing she was out there screwing around with a coworker.

Though, Negan supposed he could not say much to that anymore–after all, he was screwing around with a student. That must be just as bad, if not worse, he thought and went into the kitchen to get a bear before he slumped down on the couch.

The last couple of months Lucille had used the excuse of not having her own car as a justification for being home at unsettling hours, when in fact Negan was now well aware her wedding ring was buried deep in her purse. At least she was not there to be yelling at him for being late.

Negan turned on the TV and took a long swig of the familiar liquor.

It had not been many weeks since he and his wife had gotten into a heated argument when Lucille had broken down in tears admitting she had been seeing someone from work. He almost felt bad at that moment, seeing how his first love was pouring her heart out, apologizing for a vow-breaking act, but when she was begging on her knees for his forgiveness, he realized it was not for the affair she was being sorry about, but because she no longer loved him.

After that Negan was sad, but not devastated. He then knew he had lost Lucille many years prior that day, this was merely the first audible admission of what had died a long time ago.

Negan jerked off two more times that night with the image of you in his mind.

“Hey did you hear about that zombie outbreak in Arizona?”

Oblivious to what Morgan was referring to, you gave him a look indicating your puzzlement, careful not to drop the plastic spoon from between your lips as you put your belongings down. Taking a seat at the table, Florence removed her bag from the table to make more room for you and you smiled at her, before placing your chemistry notes and yogurt in front of you.

“The zombie dude!”

You heard a snort from the other side of the table. You just shrugged, the vague extension not making much sense to you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The look Morgan gave you was one of his many dumb looks. You could almost hear the contorted expression ask if you were being serious. “Are you like stupid or something?”

Spoon in your mouth, you sucked off the creamy substance. “Are you like stupid or something?” you mimicked his dumb response to your ignorance on the topic that had only been on constant repeat on the newsreel since the weekend started

“Whatever,” he shook his head dismissively and made a wave with his hand. “Apparently there was this scientist in Arizona that got infected with some weird ass virus that made him a cannibal. Like he just got out of his house and ate up his neighbor! Beagle, too! I mean how fucked up in your brain, do you–”

“I heard it was a hiker?” interrupted Abigail and Morgan ripped himself from the topic he had laced himself to.

“What?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, taking a long sip or her soda. “The hiker got bit by a coyote and got some kind of virus.”

“That's ridiculous, it was definitely a bacteria.”

You felt a poke on your shoulder and turned to see Adam leaning closer, the ongoing dialogue beside you fading. “Were you in Coach Negan’s office?”

You peaked your brow at him and whispered “what?”

“After the games last weekend? Bree said he pulled you into his office,” Adam said, still not sure why you had decided to take upon basketball again. He hoped it did not mean you would stop swimming practice.

“He just wanted to thank me for joining the team again.” You briefly thought of your last encounter with Coach Negan and tried to suppress the smile that grew on your lip. “Since when are your talking to Bree?”

He just shrugged and returned to pick the fork around his food. “We’re good after last week, right?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?” You said and his shoulders lifted again and he filled his mouth with fries. For the rest of the day, Adam seemed somewhat down in the dumps, but you thought no more of it, deciding it was probably mood swings. Being a teenager is funny like that.

PART 5 PART 7 TAGLIST: @pseudonymfox @ask-kakashihatake @shanaatjelove11@telltheking-cassetoi @babygirlmeepi @missghoul18 @thealipower @jdmsgal @eprilin @catlovescat @purpleflamingosarelife @reedusaddicts @lilymdonaldson @leedolady @yonisen @brynnjaminthings @fcknposer @wolfangelwings @sarahlee8793 @shethenightwolf @asteroidsx @dorky-dacre @unknown-fallen-angel @beegnc @mypopurribitch