***Authors Note: This was a wild card letter, and so the lucky tumblr follower who claimed it got to pick what smutty prompt they wanted. They asked for "Doctor Negan and Slutty Patient with medical instruments"

This is what I came up with...it's gyno Negan and his patient, so if anything about that might be triggering or uncomfortable for you, please don't read it!***

X is for X-Rated

You sat on the edge of the examination table, your clothes in a pile on the chair across the room. Hands held the edges of the scratchy medical gown closed over your chest, as you waited a little impatiently for the doctor to enter and get this over with so that you could get a clean bill of health, another year of birth control, and mark this appointment off your to-do list.

At first, you had been upset when you called to make the appointment and learned that your usual gynecologist had left this hospital, but the receptionist had assured you that her replacement was well-qualified and liked by his patients. You had been hesitant about having a male gynecologist, but decided that it would be too much hassle to search around for someone else. So, you had made the appointment for your yearly pap smear and exam, and now, three weeks later, here you were.

Right as you were starting to get annoyed with waiting, footsteps stopped outside the door and a soft knock sounded before it opened.

Holy Fucking Shit!

That was your first thought when the beautiful specimen of a man stepped into the room. He was tall, with broad shoulders and long limbs. His dark hair was pushed back off his face, he was sporting a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard, and when his gaze met yours, you saw that his eyes were a brilliant shade of hazel. His perfectly shaped lips curved upwards into a grin before parting to showcase straight, white teeth. You were unable to breathe as you stared at him in awe. The man even had god damn dimples, for crying out loud!

"Hello there. I'm Dr. Negan," he greeted, his voice deep and rich like melted chocolate. You stared up at him for a few long seconds before your brain finally took in the white coat he was wearing and the chart he was holding in one hand. Your chart.

Fucking hell, HE'S the new gyno?!

You took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm yourself while Dr. Negan walked over to the desk beside the examination table and sat down on the low stool, opening your chart and looking through it. He asked you a couple questions about your sexual history, and it was all you could do not to blush while answering. You stared at his profile while he made notes in the chart, taking in his features and the little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth that signaled he was probably somewhere in his 40s. This wasn't helpful, since you had a secret weakness for hot older men, and Dr. Negan was one of the sexiest men you had ever seen, regardless of age. When he stood up and asked you to lay back on the table for the breast exam, you briefly considered bolting off the table and making a run for it. You quickly scolded yourself for such a thought, convinced that you should have more control over your hormones than this.

This idea was proven false when he parted the front of your gown and exposed your breasts. Your nipples hardened instantly, and you told yourself it was due to the chilly air in the room, and had nothing to do with the outrageously attractive man standing beside you. Maybe if you just focused on the ceiling tiles and thought about something else you could get through this and…

You jerked when his warm, latex-covered hand touched your left breast. He started rubbing in a circular pattern around your breast, starting at the outside and moving in ever smaller circles towards your nipple. When the side of his hand brushed over the sensitive nub, you couldn't help the small gasp of surprise as a jolt of pleasure shot through you. Glancing over at Dr. Negan, hoping that he hadn't noticed, you saw that he was looking at your face with brows furrowed, as if deep in thought. It only lasted a second before he jerked his gaze away and walked around to the other side of the examination table so that he could repeat the procedure on your right breast.

You should've been more prepared this time, but instead you felt a rush of wetness between your thighs when his fingers started the circular motions again. This time, when his hand brushed your nipple, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from making a sound. When his hand brushed over it again, you jerked in surprise, glancing up at him to see his eyes once again fixed on yours. This time, he let a tiny smirk curl the left side of his lips, and you felt a blush heat your cheeks in response.

He knew.

Walking to the foot of the table, he pulled out the metal stirrups and crooked two of his fingers in a "come hither" motion while commanding, "Slide your hips down to the edge of the table."

You started to awkwardly slide downwards, the gown bunching up under you and making it a bit difficult. Suddenly, you felt strong hands grasp onto your hips and pull downwards, positioning you just how he wanted. You tried not to focus on how large and masterful his hands felt, their heat burning through the thin gown and feeling like a brand on your flesh. Your legs were trembling slightly as you lifted them and placed your feet in the stirrups. You gulped when Dr. Negan rolled the stool over from the desk, and sat down right in front of your spread thighs.

Dear god, please don't let him notice how wet I am already.

You shivered when he lifted the gown up over your hips, exposing you to his gaze. He looked up at you, his eyes burning into yours as he purred, "Relax, sweetheart."

You saw him pick up the speculum, his graceful, gloved fingers rubbing a dollop of lube over the long metal instrument. Since when was such a gesture so erotic?

When the cool metal entered your overheated flesh, your head fell back onto the table and you closed your eyes, praying that this would be over soon, before you did something really fucking stupid, like moan. He completed the pap smear, which felt slightly uncomfortable, but was over so quickly that you barely had time to notice. You were certain that you were in the clear, when he purred, "Now, I'm going to insert two fingers and check your ovaries. Then you'll be good to go."

Oh shit, you had forgotten about this part. Opening your eyes, you glanced down between your spread thighs, and almost whimpered at the sight of his beautiful face so close to your pussy. When he slowly pulled out the speculum and stood up off the stool, you felt a jolt of disappointment. However, you didn't have to worry, because he then moved closer to the table, standing between your spread thighs as he grabbed more lube. You watched, mesmerized, as he lathered up two of his fingers before lowering his hand between your legs.

You let out an involuntary gasp when his eyes lifted and locked onto yours, his expression intense and scrutinizing as he began to push his long, thick digits inside you. Between the heat of his gaze and the pressure of his fingers stretching your walls, you couldn't help yourself…and let out a low moan. Even through the gloves, he had to be able to tell how wet you were…to tell what a dirty little girl you were, getting turned on by a god damn gyno exam. Dr. Negan's lips curved into a grin, and his eyes darkened almost to the color of espresso.

When his fingers were fully inside you, he brought his other hand up and placed it on your bare stomach. Your muscles twitched under his palm, and goosebumps broke out across your flesh. This was dirty and wrong on so many levels, but you were too turned on to care. His palm pressed down on your stomach, and you moaned again, this time a little louder. Your eyes closed as you heard his voice, which sounded huskier than before, purr, "Everything looks good. Better than good. You're fucking perfect."

With that, he slid his hand a little lower on your stomach, pushing down into the soft flesh once more, at the same time that the fingers inside you curled upwards sharply. Your back arched as you cried out in ecstasy, shock rolling through you along with the waves of pleasure as you unexpectedly came all over Dr. Negan's fingers.

When you were finally able to open your eyes and take a breath, you saw that he was still standing between your thighs. He was staring down at the two fingers that had been inside you, and that were now covered in an obscene amount of pussy juice. He cocked his head to the side and stroked his clean hand over his beard before giving you a slow grin. "Well now…that was mighty fucking interesting," he growled.

He slowly pulled off the gloves and deposited them in the waste basket near the door. Reaching down, his bare hands wrapped around your ankles before slowly sliding up your calves. You shivered when his fingers teased the back of your knees before sliding back down to wrap around your ankles and lift your legs gently out of the stirrups. He held out his hand to help you sit up, and you reached out to take it instinctively, his big, rough hand warm against your own. The gown fluttered open again, showcasing your breasts, and his eyes flickered down to stare at them hungrily. Considering that he had just had his fingers inside you, and gave you an orgasm in the process, you didn't see the point in closing the gown. In fact, you wanted him to look at you, to see your nipples hard and aching for him.

After a few seconds of frozen silence, he turned and silently walked over to the desk, grabbing a pen and jotting down another year's prescription for your birth control. He then picked up the chart, handed you the scrap of paper, and gave you a devious grin and a wink before exiting the room. You sat there on the examination table for a few minutes after he left, your mind racing a million miles a minute as you tried to process what the fuck had just happened. Had you really just…yep…yep you had.

You almost felt disappointed as you slid off the table and started getting dressed, knowing that you wouldn't see Dr. Negan again for an entire year. However, your hopes were restored when you went out to the receptionist desk to retrieve your packet of general information and receipt. There, stapled between the insurance verification printout and an STI information sheet, was a scrap of paper with a scrawling, hand-written note.

Next time we should try it without the gloves and gown.

There was a cell number written underneath, with no name. But you knew who it was from.

Grinning the whole way out of the building, you waited until you got to the car to pull out your cell phone. Entering the number from the paper, a smile curled your lips as you sent him the text.

When should I schedule my follow-up appointment? ;)

You gave a squeal of excitement when your phone buzzed not even a minute later. Anticipation curled in your stomach as you read his reply.

How about tonight?

Giving an excited fist-pump, you started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. You didn't stop smiling the entire drive home.