You linger nervously outside of the heavy wooden door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you attempt to find courage enough to knock. You take a deep breath and swallow.
Dammit, if Dwight needs him then why can't Dwight damn-well do this himself? Why do you have to play the messenger? You're almost certain Dwight has sent you on purpose – the greasy bastard – simply because he doesn't like you.
Simon wouldn't have made you go. Simon likes you. Simon is the one who'd suggested making you a Savior in the first place. But dammit Simon has been gone for a couple days and right now, you answer to Dwight.
You glance left to right down the dimly lit, grey corridors of the Sanctuary before taking another breath, balling up your fist and raising it to the door.
Knock, knock.
A silence follows, and just as you ready yourself to knock a second time, you hear him call out from the other side.
"I fucking told Dwight," He doesn't sound impressed. "I don't want to be fucking disturbed." And without really considering what he's just said – perhaps because you're too busy thinking about how goddamn useless Dwight apparently is, you grab the door handle and fling open the door.
But you shouldn't have done it.
Because directly opposite the door, lounging casually on a deep and worn, black leather couch and with his feet up on the glass coffee table that sits before it, is goddamn Negan. And he's looking decidedly casual in this moment, without his signature jacket or scarf; and his boots, you notice, are laid on the floor beside him. And it wouldn't be so much of an issue to find Negan sitting right there before you except that – he has his hand in his damn pants.
Well this is awkward.
"Jesus, can I fucking help you?" He simply stares at you from the couch with a bewildered expression on his face. And you aren't sure where to look.
"I… I'm sorry I just…" You settle on dropping your gaze to the floor and staring down at your boots as you attempt to string together a sentence. "Dwight told me to come get you."
"I told Dwight-" He begins, but for some idiotic reasoning beyond your understanding, you interrupt him.
"Yeah well Dwight's an asshole and…" Your words trail to a silence as your senses flood back and you remember who it is you're talking to. Because it's one thing to tell Simon how you feel about Dwight but entirely different saying it to Negan.
This whole situation has you more than a little flustered.
"Close the door." He instructs with a calm demeanour. You nod and quickly oblige, stepping out of the room and back into the corridor. "No, doll, with you on this fucking side of it." And there's a soft huff of amusement in his voice as he speaks.
Wait. What?
You clench your jaw and tread hesitantly back into the room, clicking the door shut behind you. Your eyes are still fixed on the floor but when Negan doesn't say anything, you decide you don't have much choice but to look at him.
And he's sitting there staring at you. And he hasn't removed his hand.
"I'm sorry. Dwight said… I think he needs you, or… Look I should go." You stammer, feeling like an idiot, and you pull your eyes away from his gaze and decide to start admiring the goddamn décor instead.
Admittedly Negan has some nice stuff in his room.
You hear him draw in a deep breath and finally, he shifts against the couch, removing his hand and resting both arms across the back of the cushions. You turn your eyes back on him and you can't help noticing that his white t-shirt has risen just enough that it's exposing a couple inches of bare skin just above the waistline of his unbuttoned and bulging jeans.
Why are you looking?
"Do I know you?" What?
"What? I mean, kinda. I haven't been here long." He has a vaguely interested expression on his face as you mumble the words. "Simon-" you begin but he doesn't let you finish.
"Simon... Simon told me about you." He did?
"Oh. Good." You nod, eyes darting down to the floor and then back up again.
"But what he did not tell me, was how hot my newest damn Savior is." You catch his eyes and he's now grinning widely at you.
The more you look at him, the more you can't help noticing how incredibly attractive he is. Of course, you've seen him around the Sanctuary once or twice, but you've only been here a couple weeks and you've spent most of your time following Simon around. He'd found you out in the woods and-
-and why does that matter right now?
"I err… Did you want me to-" You point awkwardly at the door. Negan doesn't answer right away; instead he continues to smile at you, his tongue slipping out over his bottom lip as his eyes travel over you.
"You want a drink, doll?" He sniffs and pulls himself forward, placing his bare feet on the floor. You notice there's a bottle of brown liquid and a glass situated on the coffee table before him. He looks back up at you as he grabs the bottle and glass, raising his eyebrows as he speaks. "It's okay. I was planning to spend some time by myself but, I don't mind, having a little company." He smirks, pouring out an inch of the liquid and offering the glass up towards you.
"I… I guess." You aren't sure what the correct answer is but you figure since he's being polite about it you may as well accept the offer. You take a short breath and walk toward the couch, taking the glass and standing awkwardly in front of him.
"You can fucking sit down, you know." Okay. Good. Sitting is good. And you drop into the armchair opposite Negan and smile nervously, tipping the glass and downing the liquid in one go; and it wasn't the best idea because now you're trying to hold back a choking cough as the stuff burns the back of your throat.
Negan laughs and takes the glass from you, pouring another and downing it himself.
"What?" You frown at him. "I haven't had a drink since… Since before." You shrug. It's been a long time and whatever he's drinking tastes like Hell.
"So," He places the bottle and glass back down on the table and rests his elbows on his knees, gazing at your through heavy lidded eyes. "You screwing Simon?" He raises his eyebrows.
No. No you are certainly not screwing Simon. You frown.
"No." You assert.
"Hey," He raises his hands defensively. "I'm just asking." He tilts his head and his hazel-brown eyes burn deep into yours; and for a moment you find yourself transfixed on him.
Snap out of it.
"I should go." You stand abruptly and head for the exit. "Thanks for the drink. I'll tell Dwight you'll see him… Later." But as you reach for the handle Negan has stepped up behind you and places his hand firmly against the door. You swallow hard and spin around to face him, finding you have to look up to meet his stare because God damn he's tall.
He places his hand under your chin and his thumb brushes over you as he smiles down, his face no less than mere inches from yours. "If you want to leave, you can leave. And it'd be a goddamn shame, but I'm not going to stop you." You can't help noticing he smells kinda, incredible; like warm leather. "But if you want to stay…" His sentence trails to nothing but a suggestive look and his lips are hovering dangerously close to yours.
Don't do it. Don't kiss him.
But it's too late for that. You lean forward and press your lips against his and you'd like to blame it entirely on the drink – but you'd only had the one and realistically, it couldn't possibly effect you that quickly.
But who cares why you're kissing him, the point is; it's happening.
His lips are soft and gentle against yours, contrasting with the rough stubble of his chin. And he shifts on his feet, removing his hand from against the door and placing both hands either side of your face; his touch warm against your skin as he guides you backwards and against the door. You place your own hands on his hips, pulling him closer.
And you're trapped between the door and his warm body as he's pressed against you, his kisses becoming more passionate as his tongue collides with yours; tasting of the whiskey you both had been drinking. And he moves one hand to press at the base of your throat as the other falls to your waist, gliding up underneath your shirt and over your stomach.
He kisses you harder and you return his enthusiasm with equal force. But then he releases you for a moment, pulling his mouth away and grasping the hem of his white shirt, dragging it up and over his head and discarding it carelessly across the floor.
Damn. You can't help but admire his broad frame as he stands shirtless in front of you; his wide shoulders and muscular chest, peppered with dark hair; and the tattoos adorning his arms and chest somehow adds to how incredibly attractive he is.
He stares back at you for just a moment before gripping your own shirt; you raise your arms allowing him to pull it away from you and he throws it down alongside his own. "You sure you want this?" He growls at you and you run your hands over his chest, your fingers dragging through dark hair, and you bring them up to rest over his shoulders.
Fuck yes you want this.
And actions speak far louder than words as you nod and pull him back towards you. He rests his hands on your hips as your bodies press back together and his mouth finds yours again. His hands move to your ass and he squeezes gently, his fingers dipping teasingly between your thighs; and then he bends, gliding his hands down the back of your thighs and in one swift motion he's lifted you from the floor and pulled your legs up around his waist.
He's got you pinned hard against the door as he kisses you hungrily, his teeth tugging over your bottom lip before he moves along your jaw. You turn your head, granting him easier access and he places hot, rough kisses along you neck; his stubble no doubt leaving a redness on your skin and his teeth grazing over you, biting down gently against your flesh.
And you can feel his erection straining under the denim of his jeans and pressing into you.
"No," He mutters against you. "It's no fucking good," He pulls his mouth away from yours and stares into your eyes. Holy shit, he has beautiful eyes. "The pants have got to fucking go." He kisses you again, lifting you away from the door and moving across the room; and the next thing you know he's dropping you down onto the black, satin sheets of his luxurious, four poster bed.
You relax your legs from around his waist as he pulls open the laces of your combat boots, throwing them down onto the floor beside the bed; and it doesn't take him long to pull open your belt and unbutton your pants, and he stands straight as he drags them off and away from you.
"Holy shit, girl, Simon is missing the fuck out if he ain't screwing you." He gazes at you, raising his eyebrows with a smirk and placing his tongue between his teeth.
Thank God you're wearing your decent black lace underwear; the ones Simon had – wait, maybe Simon is kinda into you. Damn who cares?
Negan drops back down above you and you shuffle backward against the bed as he climbs on top of you, his own pants still hanging open but also still on. He sways above you momentarily, balancing on strong arms before he lowers his head and begins kissing over your chest; and each kiss is soft and gentle as he moves down your body, his tongue eventually slipping out and gliding from your navel back to your neck; the sensation is driving you near insane.
You arch your back against the bed as he slips his hands behind you and works the clasp of your bra, and you fall back as he slides it off your arms and it ends up somewhere across the other side of the room.
You drag your hands through his hair, dislodging the usually slicked-back waves and causing it to partly fall over his forehead; and it only makes him look even more attractive as though it were possible.
He dips his head again, this time moving his mouth over your breasts and tracing his tongue over your nipples. Your breathing intensifies as he sucks and kisses at you; your fingers pulling through his hair. You glance down and he's staring back up at you, watching your expression. He moves back to your mouth, but you decide abruptly – and perhaps now it's the alcohol fuelling you – to push him away from you and guide him over onto his back.
Negan looks slightly taken aback by the advancement, but he obliges, grasping your hips and pulling you up and on top of his lap. He rests on his elbows; his legs hanging down over the edge of the bed. You lower your head to kiss him, placing your hand on his chest and guiding him back so that he's laying flat against the bed, and then you begin returning his kisses with your own, placing your lips over his stubbled jaw and moving down his neck; across his collarbone; his tattooed chest; his stomach.
And then you slide down off of him and drop to your knees between his legs and he pulls himself back to rest of his elbows. You gaze up, and the look on his face tells you you're doing everything right. You curl your fingers around the top of his already unbuttoned jeans and he lifts his hips as you drag them away from him.
Goddamn, he's impressive.
You look up and he's staring at your with heavy eyes and a smirk on his face. You dip your head and place kisses along the inside of his thigh; and you can feel him watching you as you wrap your hand gently around his cock and glide your hand along his length. Your hand runs repeatedly over him but you hear his breath catch in his throat as place your tongue at his base and drag slowly upwards. You repeat the motion, feeling the muscles in his thighs tensing with each long stroke of your tongue; and you pause at the tip, teasing circles over him and sucking gently before deciding to take him entirely into your mouth.
You glance up to see he's closed his eyes, and he moves one hand to the back of your head and his fingers drag through your hair as your mouth works over him. You work up a steady rhythm; slow at first but gradually you begin to move faster, your hands massaging over his thighs and balls.
"Fuck…" You hear him mutter, and then he grips your hair and pulls you away from him. You look up and he places his hand under your chin. "Slow, fucking, down, sweetheart." He grins, guiding you back up to your feet. He sits forward and takes a sharp breath, placing his hands on your breasts and then running them the length of your body – and it send a shiver up your spine – before tucking a finger into your panties and dragging them down.
He lies back against the bed, inviting you to lie on top of him and he pulls his arms around you. But before you can so much as kiss him again he flips you over onto your back and he's back on top, smirking seductively at you and trailing a finger slowly downwards; at this point you're aching desperately for him to touch you.
His finger dips lightly between your thighs and he locks his eyes onto yours as he glides gently over your clit and that first touch causes you to bite down on your bottom lip and whimper softly. He lowers his head and catches your lips with his once more as his finger works over you, teasing every now and then at your entrance; and you buck your hips involuntarily forward as presses harder against you.
"Hey, doll…" He growls between kisses. "I never even asked you're fucking name."
He's not wrong, come to think of it.
"Who are you?" He breathes.
And for a moment you have to really think; which is difficult, given the circumstances. But you know the answer he's looking for.
"I…" And it's difficult to find words as the tip of his finger dips teasingly inside of you. "I'm… Negan." And you can feel him grinning against your mouth as you answer him. You gasp as he pushes a little further inside of you and then pulls out again.
"Louder." He demands.
"Negan." You repeat, as he pushes a finger all the way inside you. "Fuck." He pulls back out and this time presses two fingers against you, and his eyes are burning into yours as he pushes deep and hard into you, "Negan!"
"Yes. You. Fucking. Are." He growls, driving his fingers hard and fast into you; and you're trying your best to maintain a steady pattern of breathing as your head rolls back and he bites down on your neck.
And after a moment he pulls his hand away from you and brings it up to his mouth, licking the length of his fingers. "You taste sweet as fuck, darlin'." And before you can manage any sort of response he hauls himself up and drops between your legs, lifting your hips toward him.
You roll your head back and close your eyes; the feel of his tongue against you is almost too much to bear as he licks at your wetness, tracing shapes over you and dipping his tongue inside. And then he brings his fingers up to you, pushing back in and causing you to sigh sharply. You can feel an intense heat building up inside you and you're falling dangerously close to the edge with each thrust of his fingers. You grasp at the sheets as he relentlessly flicks his tongue over you.
"Negan," You breathe though heavy gasping, "I can't… I'm gonna…" You're so close to release and you know you can't hold on any longer. And you hear him let out a satisfied chuckle as he continues to push you mercilessly over the edge. You arch your back, feeling an intense heat rising up and exploding through you and your whole body tenses as he continues to fuck you with his hands and his mouth. You moan his name loudly as your muscles twitch but he refuses to let you go until you're practically begging him to stop.
He eventually releases you, and as you open your eyes again you find him wavering above you, gazing down and he bites his tongue between his teeth before dropping down and locking his mouth back on yours; and you can taste yourself on his tongue but you're pretty sure that is his intention. And then he grips your hip with one hand, his other hand steadying him above you and you know what's coming next.
Negan teases his cock at your entrance as though he knows it'll drive you insane. You lift your hips in an attempt to encourage him to fuck you but you can tell by the look on his face he's enjoying watching how desperate you are for him.
"Say it." He urges, leaning back down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, his fingers digging gently into your hip.
"Please." you breathe at him. He smirks.
"You're going to have to do better than fucking that, sweetheart." He chuckles.
"Please fuck me." You sigh at him.
"Beg for it." He smirks with a raised eyebrow. He's enjoying this way too much.
"Shit… Please, Negan." And you run your hand down his chest and stomach toward his cock. But that only makes him grab both your wrists and pin them above your head. He's grinning at you, pressing the tip of his cock gently inside and causing you to gasp and buck your hips forward. "Fuck just, fuck me Negan." And he stares silently at you for a moment, his tongue slipping over his bottom lip and then he nods, releasing your hands and moving one hand back down to your hip.
And then he pushes inside so that he fills you entirely and you can't help the loud moan that escapes you as you arch against him. He slides his free hand underneath your back and you wrap your legs around his hips as he begins fucking you slowly. His hazel brown eyes are locked on yours and you can't bring yourself to look away from him; and his breathing is rhythmic in time with his hips as he falls up and down above you.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your hands resting on the back of his neck and fingers curling through his dark hair. He leans down and your lips find his again; you kiss him softly and he returns the gesture, teeth grazing over your bottom lip and tongue slipping out in search of yours. And with each thrust of his hips you can feel yourself nearing a second release and you're sure he must be nearing his own orgasm.
It's not long before he begins to quicken his pace and his thrusts become harder, deeper and faster. You can feel his heart rate increasing as he continues driving his cock forcefully into you. And soon you're gasping for breath, desperately fighting the urge to call out his name as he manages to elicit a second release from you; you feel a spark ignite between your thighs and it's like a fire spreading through your entire body once again as he succeeds in taking you to fucking heaven and back for a second time.
God fucking damn.
"Fucking look at me, doll." Negan demands as you tense around his thick cock. "I want to fucking see it." And you open your eyes and stare deep into his burning eyes as your body tenses against his. And as you come down from your high he begins to drive himself even harder into you and it's all you can do to stop yourself from screaming his name as he's fucking you.
And then he reaches his own end; you can see it in his face as his mouth hangs open and he lets out a guttural moan, his eyes closing briefly before locking back onto yours. And his body jerks against you as he comes, releasing himself deep inside you; his fingers digging hard into your hips as he holds you against him.
"Fuck, fucking fuck." He growls, attempting to steady his breathing. And after a short moment he grins widely at you, his perfect teeth on full display.
"Jesus. Simon's a fucking idiot." He chuckles, pushing himself up on both arms and dragging his cock agonizingly slowly away from you. "And that was better than screwing my damn wives," Somehow, throughout the whole ordeal you'd completely forgotten the fact Negan has wives. Plural. You stare at him with a puzzled expression. "I can tell you fucking meant it, sweetheart." And he smiles again as he wavers above you.
"That was…" You struggle for words as you catch your breath.
"Incredible? Yeah, I know." He replies with a confident arrogance. But he isn't wrong.
He drops down beside you, still panting for breath and his chest is damp with sweat but goddamn he still smells good. You lay still for a moment, your senses flooding back and you begin to wonder what is supposed to happen next.
You sit up, glancing around for your clothes.
"Woah, hey." You look back at him and he's gazing at you with an affectionate expression on his face. "You don't have to go." And he holds out his arm, inviting you to lie beside him. You consider for a moment whether or not to accept the offer. But he's hard to resist. You drop down beside him and rest your head against his chest, and he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. You'd never pegged Negan for the sort of guy who'd want to cuddle after sex.
And part of you is still mad at Dwight for sending you to Negan when he knew damn-well the man didn't want to be disturbed, but there was a good portion of you that was glad he had.