THEY FINALLY DO THE DO YA PERVS HAHAHAHA

Warning: smut lay ahead, possibly badly written, possibly not. I finished this at 4am. Please forgive any spelling mistakes or grammar errors, or if the smut is bad. This is only my second attempt at writing lime. (Anything for my bbys Negan and Georgia to be happy ahurhur.)

Enjoy. ;)

update, 12/25/2017: just fixed some small mistakes during the lemon merry christmas HAHAH

Georgia knew that neither of them had eaten anything since breakfast.

After they boarded up the windows, leaving only a small gap so they could keep tabs on whatever was going on outside, she and Negan did a thorough search of the diner, hoping beyond hope that Rick and his minions had overlooked at least a pack of crackers. There was no such luck.

Ultimately, Georgia found herself lying on one of the cleaner booths of the diner. Her feet were propped up on the wall and her head hung at the edge of the seat. Negan had placed himself on the counter, an arm beneath his head while the other played with one of the light fixtures that hung low above him. Georgia absently watched him for a while. Every little thing he did seemed infinitely more interesting while the world was upside-down, or perhaps she was just hungrier and more bored than she let on.

"What would you kill for right now?" she asked in an effort to distract herself from her grumbling stomach. Negan's head tilted towards her; she craned her neck so she could stare at the black-and-white tiled floor. (It was one of those retro diners, complete with bubblegum stuck to the bottom of the tables.)

A smirk tugged at the corner of Negan's lips. "Are you sure you want an answer to that?"

"Fine. Whatever. Just keep talking to me."

"I didn't know you liked my voice that fucking much, doll." She sent him a glare, which only added fuel to the fire. His eyes narrowed slightly, playfully, and he said, "You know what I'd kill for? An ice-cold beer and a nice, long fuck."

Georgia rolled her eyes and sat up. She moved to sit cross-legged on the table, tucking her feet close to her with her hands, if only to hide the sudden warmth that travelled down her stomach and settled between her thighs.

She'd kill herself before she admitted it, but she did like Negan's voice – low, rough, and husky – and coupled with the obscene idea that he'd just put in her head, it was all she could do not to jump him. He was hot as all hell, he knew it, and so did she, but that was a line she wasn't sure she wanted to cross yet.

"Typical guy needs, of course," she hummed with false indifference.

That smug little half-smile never left his face. "How about you, doll? What would you kill for right now?"

"Music," she replied, not missing a beat. "And not that ghetto shit you keep playing back in the compound. I want real music."

Her eyes strayed to the old, dusty jukebox that sat in the corner of the diner. It was impossible to get it to work, since the generators had run out of juice long before even Rick had arrived.

"And you see real music as?" Negan asked.

"The blues, jazz, maybe some alternative… country."

His eyebrow shot up. "Taylor Swift?"

"What? No!" That got a laugh from him. It was infectious. "More like… I don't know, Chris Stapleton."

"Carrie Underwood?"

She grinned. "Hank Williams, if you could believe it."

"Rascal Flatts?"

"Shakey Graves."

"Whoever the fuck that is," he grumbled with a small chuckle. "Hm… Kenny Chesney?"

At this, she leaned forward and said with as much conviction as she could muster: "Michael Buble."

"Now that guy I know. Doesn't he have that one song about you?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's a cover, but yes, he has that one song about me."

"How does it go again? Georgia, Georgia… I spent a day with you—"

"That is so not how it goes!" Georgia all but shrieked, laughing as she said it. He'd been impossibly off-tune. "I'd like my view of that song to stay as clean and as beautiful as possible, so just stop right there please!"

"What? I think I was doing a pretty good job. Just an old sweet song—"

"Negan!"

He trailed off with a laugh, and Georgia couldn't help it; she began laughing as well. Soon, she was lying on her side with her feet still tucked beneath her, clutching her stomach. Her cheeks ached, a sensation she hadn't felt in a long time.

When she opened her eyes, the world was upside-down again. But she didn't fail to notice the way Negan was looking at her. She recognized that expression immediately. It was the same look on her brother's face whenever he looked at his girlfriend that one time he'd brought her home.

Georgia held Negan's gaze, however discomforting it may have been – it felt like he was staring into her soul – and she was soon lost in thought.

The two of them had been through a lot of shit. Granted, they may have not been through a lot of shit together, but the world had toughened them up. Georgia saw Negan as a kindred soul more than anything. Still, she'd be lying if she said that she never had any late night thoughts about him. She had more of those than she cared to admit.

She thought about how his stubble had felt beneath her fingers when she'd been ordered to shave his face. She thought about his voice – a lot. She thought about what he did to his wives, what he could do with her—

"What are you thinking about, doll?" he asked, snapping her out of her reverie.

"War." It was only a half-lie, because in the span of time it took for him to ask that question, her thoughts had wandered rather violently.

The sun had set by then. Her eyes were still adjusting to the darkness. She could barely see him, but she heard him scoff. "A bit sinister for a conversation in a fucking amusement park, ain't it, doll?"

"Sorry."

"What brought it up?"

She nodded to where she presumed the entrance was. "You saw the dead littered outside. They're military. They would've had guns."

"There's a chance they didn't."

"Negan, even you're smarter than that. I'd bet my right fucking arm that they did, and that Rick got them, and that he's planning an attack right now."

"You think I don't already fucking know that?"

There was a dangerous edge in his voice, now. Georgia hurriedly tried to remedy the situation, continuing in a softer voice. "I'm just saying that we've got a lot of enemies, Negan. We need to be more careful, now more than ever."

A pause. When he spoke again, she could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "We?"

Georgia didn't hesitate to scowl, knowing that he wouldn't see something so subtle. She should never have used that word. There was no we, not between just the two of them – there were only the Saviors, all of whom were Negan, including her. He must have noticed something in her silence, though. In the dimness of the room, she vaguely saw his form drop down from the counter and make its way across the aisle.

She shifted into a proper sitting position, with her legs hanging off the edge of the table. She raised her head to meet his gaze.

"You looking out for me, doll?"

"Who else is gonna do it?" A bit of annoyance flashed across his eyes. Georgia scoffed. "No offense, Negan, but there's too many people who want your head on a platter. You need someone watching your back. Dwight sure as fuck ain't doing it, Simon's your right hand man but I'm pretty sure he's had his eyes on Josie for a while now."

His eyebrow shot up. Incensed, he took a step closer so that he was standing between her knees. "No shit?"

"I don't think he's actually done anything about it, but I'd keep an eye on him… He freaks me out a little, to be honest."

"He touch you?"

Before she could reassure him that no, Simon had not touched her, Negan's thumb was suddenly trailing down her cheek – feather light and yet his nail scratched her skin oh so slightly, sending shivers down her spine. The pad of his thumb stopped at her chin, so close to her lips that she could plant a kiss on it if she so wanted.

"Why do you care?" she whispered. The first thing that had popped into her head. She could barely think. His close proximity, however not entirely unexpected, was so sudden that it clouded her thoughts.

"I told you before," he said, equally quiet. "I'm the only one allowed to ever fucking touch you, remember?"

As if to prove his point, he moved his hand down, past her chin and down her throat. It settled on the junction of her neck and shoulder, with his thumb resting just on the hollow of her collar bone. His touch was like fire, burning through the thin cotton of her t-shirt, licking at the muscle and skin underneath. Georgia took a shaky breath.

This action – fortunately or unfortunately, she couldn't be sure – left her mouth open for plundering. She realized her mistake as soon as Negan craned his neck, moving his face ever closer to hers, close enough that they were practically breathing the same air. Georgia closed her eyes, expecting the kiss to come full force – they had waited too long, had killed too much time.

But when it came, it came gently, like wind rustling through trees.

His lips were soft, as warm as any part of him. Both his hands came up to cup her face, and for a while, there was nothing more to it. Just the lightness of his mouth on hers.

When it ended, his thumb traced the curve of her lower lip, but his eyes trailed all across her face, flitting from one pale corner to the next. As if he wasn't sure. As if he was looking for something.

Whatever it was, he must have found it. That familiar sparkle appeared in his eye. His lips turned upwards to reveal two rows of pearly white teeth. Georgia took in another shaky breath. She didn't realize her mistake until he had attacked once again.

Negan began kissing her, properly – firmly and deeply. His tongue, which she had seen peeking out of the corner of his lips so many times, explored her mouth. He tasted like smoke, sweet smoke… Bourbon, she decided. He was kissing her so thoroughly that her toes curled and the heels of her feet dug into the back of his knees. Her hands, unable to keep still, grabbed his shoulders and pulled him closer.

The inside of her thighs touched the front of his jeans. A long sigh escaped her lips. Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding against the unmistakable hardness that was growing beneath his jeans. But the moment he began imitating the motion, his hand pressing against the small of her back, she firmly pushed him away.

"Shit, doll," he hissed, and though there was definitely some concern in his eyes, he sounded more annoyed than apologetic. "You alright? What's the matter?"

"We can't do this."

He sighed heavily. "And why the fuck not?"

"I can't be one of your wives. I won't."

"Georgia." She heard the faintest hint of a growl in his voice. "After all this time, you fucking think I'd still put you in the same goddamn boat as them? You ain't ever been just one of them, and you never will be."

He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her mouth, and she expected him to stay there, but he didn't. His lips began a trail downwards, from her chin to below her jaw, to where her shoulder met her neck. He lavished the skin there with kisses and licks and nibbles. Georgia's hand curled around his hair again. A part of her wanted to keep him there until morning, but a greater part managed to convince her otherwise.

She tugged his mouth away from her neck and steeled her gaze.

"I won't be your whore."

Some kind of realization dawned on him at that moment. She couldn't be sure exactly what it was, but the change in his eyes was immediate. The lust remained evident in his dilated pupils, but there was something else behind the hazel eyes that she had grown so fond of, something more profound that she couldn't put her finger on.

"Never," he said.

And then he had latched onto her neck just as quickly as he had gone. Her eyelids fluttered closed. She wasn't sure if it was his statement or his persistence, but she finally threw all caution to the wind.

Georgia threw her head back, baring her throat to him. As Negan kissed and licked, she became aware of his hands gripping her thighs. He ground his hips against hers, creating wonderful friction between her legs. They both knew it wasn't enough. Breathless, Georgia untangled her fingers from his hair and set to unbuckling his pants.

A small groan began in his throat. Georgia smirked lightly. She may or may not have intentionally grazed him, but she had a small inkling what effect she had on him. It was intoxicating – knowing that he could kill her any time but he didn't because he wanted her, perhaps just as much as she wanted him.

She gave his hair a slight tug and her lips crashed against his.

She finally managed to get his zipper down. Without wasting any more time, she slipped her hand into his jeans and easily found his member, hard and slick with his excitement. His jaw fell slack with his surprise and Georgia took the opportunity to move her lips to his neck. She slowly started pumping his shaft – down, up, twist, down, up, twist. His breathing turned heavy but he was not one to be outdone.

His hands travelled to the hem of her shirt. His fingers, warm and calloused, slipped past the thin material and quickly found her breasts. Georgia sighed in contentment when he began squeezing them, massaging her nipples past the fabric of her bra.

Negan wasn't as forgiving as she had been. With a low growl of annoyance, he pulled her shirt over her head, taking her new baseball cap with it. He then deftly removed her bra in what felt like a singular movement.

Georgia squeaked in surprise and immediately covered her breasts. "Negan!"

"What?"

"Someone could come in here and see us!"

"While it's dark out? And with that herd in the way? I don't think so. Now come on, doll. Let me look at you… Oh, fuck yes…"

Georgia would be lying if she said that she didn't like the way he licked his lips when she uncrossed her arms, revealing her bare chest to his appreciative gaze. Immediately he bent down and captured a nipple between his lips, causing her to moan in pleasured surprise. Her hand faltered with its motions inside his jeans, but he didn't seem to mind. He was sucking on first one breast, and then the other, like a newborn babe.

She barely noticed it when he unbuttoned her jeans and pulled the zipper down. It dawned on her only when his fingers slipped past her panties and found that swollen nub settled just so between her folds. He pressed down. She had to move her hand elsewhere in fear of gripping his cock too hard. Consequently, her hand found the hard muscle of his waist, and it was this that she latched onto for dear life.

His fingers worked her to the point of delirium – so good to have her toes curling but not enough to send her over the edge. Moments later he had pulled her pants off completely. He guided her onto her back and his hands on the insides of her thighs kept her legs spread almost obscenely wide.

She knew she was practically dripping onto the tabletop. Negan's smug grin assured her of that.

"Take your shirt off," she breathed, aware that she was completely naked and he wasn't.

He obliged, tugging his shirt over his head in one smooth movement. He was all lean muscle, as she'd expected, with just the perfect amount of salt and pepper hair on his chest that had Georgia's mouth watering. She wanted to touch him, but before she could do anything else, he grabbed her thighs again and tugged. Her backside rested on the very edge of the tabletop.

"Sorry, doll. This can't fucking wait," he said, grinning. "I've got to taste you. Now."

Georgia watched as he got down to his knees. His hands were on the insides of her thighs, his thumbs so close to where she wanted them to be. Negan craned his neck. She felt him breathing on her. She released a small whimper of anticipation.

And then his mouth was on her, and it was glorious.

She barely managed to muffle a scream into her palm. When she did, though, Negan quickly shoved her hand away.

"Nothin's coming in here tonight, doll. I wanna hear you scream."

He licked a long stripe from her entrance, gathering her juices, all the way up to her clit. He sucked, and she didn't hold back the cry of ecstasy that erupted from her throat.

His beard rubbed against the inside of her thighs as he laid the flat of his tongue against her clit and moved side to side. A new surge of wetness came leaking out of her and he was there at her entrance in a heartbeat, sticking his tongue into her and scooping out all she had to give.

He was eating her out like a starved man. The sounds he made certainly suggested precisely that – moans and groans, and long sighs of contentment that vibrated against her cunt, causing her to choke on her own breaths.

When he moved up to her clit again, she felt him push two fingers into her.

Two was all he ever needed. He didn't go slow. His hand was a blur as he pushed his fingers in and out of her, curling and uncurling them in a rhythm that she couldn't fathom. By that time he had left her clit well enough alone, but his palm was facing upwards and each piston of his hand caused the heel of his palm to collide with her sensitive nub.

"Shit," Georgia whimpered. "Negan, I'm gonna—"

She never got to finish. Her orgasm crashed into her quicker than she'd anticipated, sending her reeling into oblivion. He didn't stop. He kept licking and sucking and moaning and fucking her with his tongue until she came a second time in less than five minutes.

Her breaths came out in harsh gasps. Her skin was coated in a fine sheen of sweat from the summer night air. When she had calmed down enough, she opened her eyes, glazed over, and looked down.

Negan gazed up at her from between her thighs, looking like a kid who had just gotten an early Christmas present. "That was fucking beautiful, doll," he said.

He trailed kisses up her stomach, pausing at the inked text just beneath her left breast. It read: What a prize you are. What a lucky sack of stars.

"I didn't have you pegged as the poetic type," he murmured against her breast, sucking lightly on the nipple while his fingers traced the tattoo.

Georgia shuddered. "I'm just full of surprises."

She felt him grin against her skin, and then she felt him place the tip of his cock right at her entrance, slicking himself up. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him up to kiss him, tasting herself on his lips, asserting dominance when she hadn't been able to before.

Sometime in the middle of it, he removed the band that was holding her hair up. Her strawberry blonde locks came tumbling down her shoulders and he gripped the back of her head, almost desperately. As she was sucking on his lower lip, he pushed into her.

Her jaw fell slack. A soft mewl fell from her lips. "Fuck!"

Her eyes flickered up to meet his and she saw the crease on his forehead, his open mouth, and the immense pleasure in his gaze as he stared at her. He began thrusting. Little pinpricks of light erupted behind her eyelids. She removed her grip from his head, transferring it to the edge of the tabletop. He straightened up, grinned briefly, and began fucking her in earnest.

The motions of his hips made her toes curl. Already she could feel her third orgasm coming and he didn't look anywhere near close, but his bliss was unmistakable. She took in the sight of him – sweaty and breathless and taking pleasure in her. Her muscles clenched.

"That's it, doll," he hissed, delighted. "Come on. Come for me."

Georgia couldn't have refused him even if she tried. The sound of his skin slapping against hers became even slicker as she came, a choked scream of his name escaping her lips as Negan found her clit and began rubbing, prolonging her rapture. He soon pulled his hand away, instead slipping it beneath her and pushing against the small of her back.

She sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs going in the same fashion around his hips. And Georgia hadn't thought it possible but he began pounding into her even harder.

Her clit was oversensitive to the point of pain and she grappled at his shoulders, trying to make him stop, but he held her tight against him, her breasts crushed against his chest, the flesh of her butt molded into his hands.

"Negan," she whimpered. "I c-can't…"

"Yeah you can, doll." He said it through gritted teeth. He was close. "I know you've got one more in there just for me. One more. Come on, Georgia… That's it…"

Georgia clung so hard to him she thought she may never be able to let go. One of his fingers grazed against her clit. And incredibly, impossibly, she felt herself fall apart once more. Her jaw hung open in a silent scream. Her vision dimmed.

She barely noticed when Negan pulled out, and the thick, hot jets of white liquid that streamed across her stomach. Her body felt light, almost numb, in its afterglow. She was vaguely aware of the warm body she was pressed against planting light kisses on her neck. He was smiling.

"You alright?" he asked and she could only hum in reply, unable to form words. His smile widened. "Why didn't we do this sooner?"

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of her cell door being unlocked, rather noisily.

The door swung open and sunlight filtered in from outside, blinding her momentarily. When the spots disappeared, a tray had been placed before her. The usual: bread, some meat, and a glass of water. Georgia eyed the meal with distrust. She knew in her heart that Rick was keeping her alive for a reason, not just out of the kindness of his heart. In the New World, there were always ulterior motives, no matter what anyone said.

Sighing, she raised her head and met the eyes of the Prick himself.

"You gonna tell us anything yet?" he said.

"You should just kill me." Her stare hardened into one of cold amusement. "Negan doesn't give two shits about me. You're wasting your time."

He stayed for a while longer, never moving, never sitting down. Just staring. She never faltered. And in the end, as was routine, he was the first to blink.

"No," he said. He snatched the loaf of bread from her plate and left, relocking the door on his way out.

Her chains rattled as Georgia took the tray and placed it on her lap. Rick's people wouldn't keep her alive for as long as they had just to give her poison out of the blue. Rick still believed that she could be used as leverage for Negan, no matter how much she insisted.

And besides, she didn't think they were the type to kill their enemies in the dark.

Resigned, Georgia began eating her meal.

She stared at the far wall, thinking about what Sanctuary's fearless leader could have been doing at that moment, while she was chained up, keeping his secrets for him.

One thing was for sure: war had begun. And one way or another, she was going to see Negan again, either with him storming the castle with guns blazing, or being brought to her in shackles.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO WRITE NEXT! Please leave a review, perhaps regarding the chapter itself and possible plotlines I could use for upcoming chapters. It's a long way to go before the next season. I need something to tide y'all over HAHAHA.

update, 12/25/2017: I have not, in fact, watched a single episode of the new season and i want to DIE. I might manage to pull something out of my ass and put it up as an update, but I can't really be sure. I'm caught up in my X-Men fic right now, but I'll do my best for y'all!