dbf!Negan Smith (The Walking Dead) x younger fem!reader
(AU where the apocalypse never happened)
Summary: Negan is your dad's best friend and the two of you settle some tension while on your family vacation.
Warnings (18+): age gap (reader is college age, maybe 20-ish, and Negan's age is not specified but I'm feeling early 50s), smut (fem receiving oral, unprotected p in v), possibility of getting caught, edging
Notes: this actually kinda turned out sweet in a way I think, which is surprising because that's not often an outcome when I write for Negan lmao. not proofread yet because I just wanted to get it out to you all asap, but will edit if needed when I get the chance. hope you enjoy!! (also the intro is kinda long oops)
Grabbing your glass of wine you take another much needed swig, cringing at your dad and uncle. They always find some way to turn every conversation into a political argument while the rest of your family eat their meals and exchange knowing glances
Family holidays were always like this. The one time a year when everyone was together: your parents, aunt, uncle and cousins. Only this year, there was a new addition.
Negan had grown up being a close friends with both your father and uncle and they are still best friends to this day. He recently went through a messy divorce and this is his first Christmas without his wife in a long time. Your dad never was good with showing kindness or friendship, but your uncle had convinced him it would be a good idea to invite him to his cabin for your annual Christmas getaway.
And that's how you got here.
You'd always had a little bit of a crush on Negan, for as long as you could remember. Though you never saw much of him as a kid. It wasn't until you got older - old enough to be able to drink in front of your parents - that you got to spend more time with him. Drinking was a big part of their social life, so once you could join in, you got to know him better. You got on well with your parents so you'd have barbeques with them and their friends, join in with conversations in the kitchen when they'd have people over, go out to dinner. But then you went off to college and started spending less and less time with them. So now it's Christmas time, you're happy to be able to spend time with your family. And Negan, more than you'd care to admit.
"Okay fellas," your mom chimes in. "Enough of that."
Negan makes eye contact with you from across the other side of the table and you smirk at each other. You're both all too familiar with watching this from an outside perspective.
"The food's delicious, Negan," she adds, turning to Negan, who had cooked this meal for you all. Sort of as a thank you for letting him tag along. For the first few days in the cabin he felt a little out of place, like he was intruding on your family's time together. But eventually he began to find himself settling. You were lucky to have a very fun, non-judgmental family so everyone was happy to have him there.
You nodded in agreement with your mother's statement. "I'd have more if there was any left." You motion to your empty plate.
"I'm glad it's got your approval, ladies," he grins.
The meal comes to an end and alcohol starts flowing. Your cousins are all younger than you so they head off to their bedrooms to do whatever it is kids their age do.
"I'd better get these dishes cleaned," Negan declares, standing up from his seat.
"No," you say, protesting. "You cooked. I'll clean."
"It's fine, you don't have to," he says kindly.
"I want to," you smile. "Really I'm happy to."
"We'll do them together?" He suggests, coming to a compromise and you nod in agreement.
"You raised a stubborn one," he mumbles teasingly to your dad, patting his shoulder as he walks past him.
"She gets that from me," your mom chirps as the two of you pick the plates up from the table and carry them into the kitchen.
Putting the plates on the kitchen top, you head to the fridge and look inside.
"Beer?" you ask, peeking around the door to look at Negan's response. Though you already have two cans in your hand, knowing he won't turn down the offer.
He nods. "Can't do anything without a drink in hand in this family, huh?"
You close the fridge door and pass him his beer, cracking open his own.
"You should be more than aware of that," you tease. "I've heard what you and my dad used to get up to."
"I'm sure you've not even heard the most of it," he teases back.
You laugh softly under your breath at his response.
"I'll wash, you dry?" You suggest as the sink begins to fill with soapy water.
The two of you get the dishes done relatively quickly as Negan tells you a story from his college days. You have to keep yourself composed and remember who he is. Remember that these stories he's telling of him at your age took place before you were even born. A decade before, at least. But, every so often, as you pass him the plates to dry, your fingers touch his and such a small motion has you weak. You can't look him directly in the eyes as he stands so close to you. That signature grin of his spread across his face.
The two of your finish and you take a large swig of your beer, but it's no surprise that the flush of alcohol doesn't help your body heat. You can only hope and pray that your cheeks aren't beetroot red right now.
"I'm sure you've got plenty of stories, though, right?" He asks. "Being in college and all. And with your dad's genes...God."
A playful smile spreads on your face. "Sure. I'm absolutely not telling you though. My dad would have a heart attack."
"Ahh," he smiles back. "So this whole 'good girl' thing is just an act, then?"
Holy shit. Good girl? He has no clue what he is doing to you calling you things like that.
"I can be good when it suits me." You say, almost flirtatiously, and immediately kick yourself. Why the hell would you say something like that to him?
Your off-the-cuff reply has him grinning. He swipes his tongue over his teeth as he contemplates your words and you almost drop to your knees.
"Let's go see what political debate has become the talking point now," you say, changing the topic to hide your complete embarrassment. You leave the kitchen and head to the living room, Negan following.
Somehow, in the time it took you to wash the dishes, your mom and aunt have gone through a bottle and a half of wine, and they're sat on the floor with your dad and uncle playing some sort of drinking game.
You sit down on the couch and Negan sits next to you. Why? Why could he not just sit away from you? Give you some space to compose yourself? But the action is completely innocent. There is just less than a foot between the two of you, yet it still feels like he is on top of you. Like you're breathing the same air.
"What was I just saying?" Negan says, nudging your arm with his elbow. "Alcohol."
You shake your head in playful disagreement with your relatives' actions.
"Hey, mom," you say and her head whips around, as laughter escapes her lips. "Think you've had enough for tonight?"
"Oh, you're so boring," she waves her hand at you dismissively.
The four of them continue for about half an hour as you and Negan observe and laugh. The game finally comes to an end when your aunt and uncle discreetly head off to their bedroom for a reason you don't even want to think about. Your parents follow shortly after, your dad having to carry your drunk mom up the stairs.
You come back from the kitchen where you were getting another lager for you and Negan. As you do so, you look for the TV controller and find a blanket that was lying around. You sit down again next to Negan and look down at your phone to check the time.
"God, it's not even 10 o'clock yet." You laugh.
"Amateurs," he says sarcastically.
You pass him his beer which he thanks you for, then get under you blanket.
"Want some?" You ask, holding out some excess blanket towards him.
"Sure," he accepts, getting comfortable himself.
The whole situation you're in is completely innocent, but it dawns on you that you're currently alone with Negan, tucked under the same blanket. Given that fact, you make a conscious effort not to touch him at all and try to remain composed.
"Put a movie on?" You ask him, passing the TV remote to him.
He takes it from your hand, brushing his fingertips across yours.
You watch him carefully as he selects a film to put on, making sure not to get caught admiring him. He just looks so good. The salt and pepper sprinkled throughout his hair and beard. The tattoos that cover his arms. The way his white t-shirt hugs his body just right. You're brought out of your thoughts when he speaks.
"You seen Batman Returns?" He asks, looking down at you.
"Of course," you smile. "It's a classic."
"Feel like watching it again?"
You nod. You'll watch whatever he wants. Do whatever he wants.
"Absolutely," you answer. "I didn't peg you as a Batman kind of guy, to be honest."
"Like you say, it's a classic," he says. "Plus there's always Michelle Pfeiffer."
You laugh at him. "I feel you."
You polish off another beer as you watch the film. You try your best to pay attention, to keep your eyes open, but you grow increasingly tired. It must have only been fifteen minutes into the film when you finally drift off, reality slipping away.
When you wake up again, it takes a while to fully gain consciousness, You feel something under you head, under your arm, but you don't pay much attention to it.
You feel warm. Comfortable. You don't want to wake up, you could stay here forever. The smell of men's shampoo and cologne comforts you, a soft material under the touch of your hand.
All of a sudden reality dawns on you. You realise that your head is leaning on a shoulder. That your hand is draped across a torso. You shoot up, sitting upright and see Negan smiling at you softly through slightly hooded eyes.
"Oh God," you say, feeling incredibly humiliated. "I'm sorry." But he just chuckles.
You look over to the television and see a black screen.
"Did the movie finish?" You ask groggily and he nods. Fuck. You slept for the entire duration of the film and who knows how much of that time you spent laying on Negan's shoulder.
What you're only just realising now, though, is how close you're still sat to him. How even though you're sat up, Negan's shoulder is casually draped across the back of the sofa, dangerously close to your shoulder blades.
"Why didn't you just wake me up?" You ask, feeling flushed.
"You looked peaceful." He answers, honestly. "Didn't want to disrupt you."
"I'm sorry," you apologize again. "You should've woken me up."
"I didn't mind, sweetheart." He insists. "Honestly."
The pet name drives you utterly insane. As if this whole thing wasn't already enough. Your body feels so hot. What with the blanket, his body heat, your arousal.
"I will say though, you do talk quite a bit in your sleep," he smiles coyly and dread shoots through your entire body.
"Wh-what-" you can't even get a full sentence out. "What did I-"
A flash of a dream comes back to you in that moment. Oh God. Oh God, no. You can't remember the details, but you remember the feeling. Negan on top of you. His body weight on you. The ecstasy you felt. His hands on your body. His name slipping from your lips.
You had a sex dream about Negan while you were laying on his Goddamn shoulder. You're lost for words, but Negan is enjoying watching this play out. He bites his lip, trying to suppress his smug grin as he watches you realise the possibilities of what you might have said.
His arm slowly slips off the back of the sofa and creeps around to touch you, the movement making you flinch a little. What is he doing?
He takes his other hand and places two fingers just under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The two of you make eye contact and you can't even contemplate what is happening - still a little groggy from your nap - before his lips are coming down gently on yours.
You kiss him back almost immediately. It's a surprising delicate and intimate kiss, and you daringly bring your hand up to his neck to pull him in deeper, but he pulls back.
You worry that he is having second thoughts, but the look in his eyes says the complete opposite. He just wants to get a good look at you before he tears you apart. You feel vulnerable under his hungry eyes but you love how it makes you feel.
The two of you take a moment to catch your breath before your lips join again, this time the kiss rougher. More passionate. His arms wrap around your back to pull your body snug to his and you intwine your fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His large hands snake further down and grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. As you get comfortable you shift along his length and gasp, feeling that he is already hard.
"You were practically fucking dry humping me in your sleep," he chuckles. "You can't blame me."
"So that's why you didn't want to wake me up, then?" You're barely able to mumble, teasing him.
"Hmm, maybe." You can feel him smile into the kiss and it makes you want him more. Everything about him is so endearing. He just radiates this warmth, this aura, and it's radiating.
Even now, however, you're nervous to move things along. You know what you want but this is still so surreal, and it would be an understatement to say you feel a little intimidated in this moment. You have enough sexual experience, but this is Negan. This is different. So you're glad when he takes control and begins to lift up your top, pulling it over your head to expose your bra.
His mouth makes contact with the flesh of your chest, sucking and nipping while he reaches around to unhook your bra. He feels his cock twitch when he sees your bare breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth immediately as his warm hands roam and caress your back, travelling over your smooth skin.
As you start to subconsciously grind into his bulge, Negan continues to explore your breasts. You're looking for any kind of relief and you begin to find some as he presses up into you, but both of your pants are restricting you.
You feel yourself crumbling further and further as Negan's hands come around to aid him with his attention to your breasts, squeezing and practically groaning as he does so. The noise changes something inside you, and makes you realise that you need him stripped of his clothes right this second.
You grasp the bottom of his shirt and he briefly pulls away from you to allow you to move it, but the second you're done, his lips are back on your skin, leaving marks on your collarbone and neck. Next, you move onto the buckle of his belt but he swats your hand away.
Pulling back from the kiss, you look to him with wide eyes full of confusion. That look alone is nearly enough to cause him to fold and fuck you right then and there. But he has other plans.
"Be patient for me, honey," he says sweetly, and as badly as you want him, you trust him.
He pulls your body flush to his, so that your breasts are pressed entirely against the heat of his chest. Then he grips your lower back and stands up, holding you tightly.
"We can't do this here," he says, carrying you towards the stairs. You grind up against him playfully as he does so and he stops momentarily half way up the stairs, clearly affected by the action. In retaliation he gently swats your ass and you giggle at his response.
"Shh," he hushes, but he can't hide the grin that spreads across his face as you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.
Being as quiet as possible, he takes you into his bedroom which - awkwardly - is across the hall from your parents' room.
He puts you down on the bed, barely allowing himself to be away from you for a second, climbing on top of you hastily. He goes back to kissing you, the taste of him intoxicating. The way he kisses are gentle yet so hot and passionate at the same time, becoming increasingly sloppy as they shift from your lips to your jaw, neck, chest, abdomen, until you're a writhing mess beneath him.
Once he has kissed so far that he reaches the waist line of your trousers, he unbuttons them and pulls them all the way down. He throws them onto the floor, leaving you just in your lace black panties. He nudges your legs open and moves his kisses to your thigh. He's slowly breaking you and you're not sure how much more you can take. Painstakingly slow, he trails his tongue up your inner thigh until he reaches the edge of your panties.
Eventually he slips your panties off and you tremble as you feel the cool air of his room against your hot, aching core. He places his hands on your inner thighs to push them open further, mouth watering at the sight of you. The delicate touch of his fingers send shivers up your spine and you're in desperate need of more.
"Please, Negan," you say, barely a croak.
"Shh, let me take care of you," he soothes, his voice low and gravelly as he tries his best to stay quiet. "Wanted to taste this sweet pussy for so long."
As if to affirm his words, he lowers his head and licks a stripe straight through your folds, groaning as he feels how wet you are.
He then moves his mouth to make contact with your clit, your hips raising at the action. He starts off by sucking gently, leaving you aching for more as you reach down to grab his hair, not knowing what else to do. He chuckles as you do so and sends vibrations straight through your core. Unable to control yourself, a moan escapes you lips and he squeezes your thighs warningly, wordlessly telling you to be quiet.
He takes his time to precisely pull you apart, but then his motions begins to get harsher, faster. You feel that rising feeling in the pit of your stomach begin to spread after waiting for what feels like so long. He alternates between kissing, sucking, licking, nipping until you're desperate for more. Sensing this, he teases one finger at your entrance.
"Please," you whimper, legs trembling. He answers your pleading by pushing his single digit inside you in one long push, as deep as he can go, and keeping it there momentarily. As he continues to eat you out, he begins moving his finger, fucking you gently. When he adds a second finger you have to clasp your hand over your own mouth to stop yourself from calling out his name. Your legs wrap around his head, wanting to pull him closer to you in any way possible.
Closing your eyes, you feel that white hot feeling flooding through your veins, but right as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls his fingers out and his mouth away from you.
You let out a guttural sound, one of desperation which causes Negan to laugh under his breath.
"Negan, God, please," you whine, putting both your hands on his head and pushing him back down.
"So bossy," he mumbles with a smile on his face, but he obliges.
He doesn't use his fingers on you again, but it makes no difference. You're already pent up enough as it is that it won't take a lot to make you reach your peak. Plus, you don't doubt that Negan's skillful mouth is more than enough for you.
He circles his tongue around your clit, going back to sucking while using his free fingers to absentmindedly trace little patterns into your thighs. The only noises are your heavy pants and the wetness of his mouth against you, and it fills the otherwise deadly silent bedroom.
He's starting to become more familiar with your body and your reactions and he can tell you're getting close again. To which he stops and pulls away yet again.
"Negan," you almost cry. Tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you throb for him. "Please, I need to-"
"I got you baby," he assures you, stroking the flesh of your thighs comfortingly.
You can't bare it. You almost despise him for doing this to you, but you can't. It's all so surreal: having this man between your thighs. So often you have fantasized of it and though it's so wrong, it's now happening.
Before you can beg again, his lips make contact with you. This time he's a man on a mission. His tongue flicks against your clit as two of his fingers slip back inside you. You're so wet that it's an easy motion, but you still feel the tight, delicious stretch. He allows you to get used to it, building you up until he adds a third finger and you have to use all your power not to yell out his name. You try your hardest not to hurt Negan by squeezing your thighs too much or pulling his hair too hard, but he loves it. He loves driving you crazy, seeing you unwind for him. The noises you make. The taste of you.
Relentlessly, he penetrates you with his fingers, pushing and curling his fingers deep inside you, hitting a spot that eventually brings you your release. One last push, one last flick of his tongue and you're falling over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can't help the animalistic sound that leaves you as white flashes behind your eyelids. He continues eating you out through your orgasm and it hits you that you think you're doing something you never have before.
Once you manage to come around again, you let your legs relax and look down to Negan who looks up at you. He smiles smugly, your wetness remaining in his beard and it causes you to go weak in the knees.
"Did I just-?" Squirt, you want to say. But somehow it doesn't seem like the nicest word to describe what just happened between of the two.
He nods with a glimmer in his eyes as he makes his way up the bed, his body above yours.
"I've never-" you croak. "I've never done that before."
"You just needed a man, that's all," he gloats and you roll your eyes. "It was hot as fuck, for what it's worth."
He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on him.
You're still shaking a little, but you manage to pull back a little to look him in his eyes.
"Are we really doing this?" You ask, bordering on timid.
"Do you want to?" He counters.
"Yes," you say, quickly, not wanting him to think you're having doubts. Because there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that you want the man above him. Hell, you need him. But somehow you find yourself feeling a little insecure and needing reassurance. "Do you?"
"Darling," he laughs. "Not to be crude, but you just came all over my face. I want this more than you know."
You nod and smile, feeling more confident. "I'm sorry, I just-"
He interrupts your babbling with a long kiss to your lips, silencing you.
"You need to worry less," he says, bringing his hand to stroke your cheek sweetly.
"Make me." You propose flirtingly, smiling up at him.
"That I can do." His lips crash down on yours and his tongue intertwines with yours.
Reaching down to his pants you fumble with his zip, which he helps your shaky hands undo. He shifts both his pants and boxers down off his ankles, and though you can't see his length fully from this angle, you can feel its hardness press against your lower stomach and he feels big.
"You ready, baby?" He raises his brow at you as he grips his member and teases it through your folds.
"Yes, please Negan," you pant, even after having the best orgasm of your life, you still need more. "Need you inside me."
He groans as he slips inside of you and the way you practically beg for him drives him crazy.
"So fucking tight, holy shit," he mumbles into your ear, his head dropping down to bite and suck on the crook of your neck. "Oh, baby, fuck."
Hearing him say such obscene things affects you in an indescribable way. His voice has always been massively attractive to you, but now...you're done for. The deep rumble, smooth like honey, even lower in an attempt to remain quiet to your family in the surrounding bedrooms. It's like dark magic. It has you hooked. He could say the right thing to you with that voice and you'd cum right there and then.
His movements are slow, savoring the sensation of you around him. He wants to take his time with you. He never wants it to be over.
Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back and lift your hips up wanting more from you. He maintains his pace, but does start pushing deeper inside you like you wanted.
"I've wanted you for so long," you say, not even in control of your words anymore. It's like he's fucking them right out of you. He moans into your neck at your admission and starts thrusting a little faster, as if in response to your statement.
"Do you know-" he stops speaking for a moment to breathe and compose himself, clearly enjoying this as much as you, "how often I get myself off thinking about you?" He punctuates his point with a particularly hard thrust and that - in combination with the idea of him masturbating to the thought of you - causes you to cry out. You thought he would shush you, but he seems too far gone at this point.
"A fucking pretty little thing like you," he says, his hands groping at your tits, his touch rougher than before, "it'd be hard not to."
"Oh god," you whimper. "Harder, please."
His movements get harsher gradually, following your command and getting you closer and closer every second.
He lifts his head up and the way he looks at you makes your insides collapse. To be the sole object of his attention. How he looks at you like you're all that ever mattered.
"I'm so close, Negan," you tell him.
"Taking me so fucking well, darling," he praises, reaching one hand down to lazily play with your clit. That's all it takes and he can feel it coming as you begin to squeeze around him. He takes your lips in a long, sensual kiss as you climax, trying to muffle your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your hands are wrapped around his back, squeezing into his shoulders as you try your hardest to be quiet. Pure pleasure surges through your veins as he presses his entire body weight into you: suffocating in the most beautiful way possible.
Gradually, Negan's movements come to a halt and he stops moving inside you briefly, letting go of you come down from your high.
"You're gonna be the fucking death of me," he declares and before you can reply, he suddenly starts moving inside you again, faster than the last time, placing a quick peck on the tip of your nose as he does so.
He soon reaches a pace much faster than before and you're rendered speechless.
Your attention is grabbed, however, by the open and shut of a door somewhere. You gasp and your eyes widen at the sound. The possibilities of who it could be and if they'd heard you start to race through your mind but your thoughts are cut off when Negan clasps a hand firmly over your mouth to keep you quiet. He presses you further into the mattress as he fucks you even harder than before, enjoying tormenting you.
You listen closely to the footsteps. They're quite loud - that of a man - probably your dad or uncle. The pitter patter grows closer and your heard races, both from the fear of getting caught and from the sensation of Negan deep inside you. Hitting places you're sure no other man ever has or ever could. You relax a little as you hear the footsteps pass Negan's bedroom and head into the shared bathroom, the door closing afterwards.
Negan takes his hand off your mouth and you gasp for air.
"Oh my god, please don't stop," you beg as he sets a pace and sticks with it, snaking his slender fingers back down to your clit and circling it gently.
"I don't plan on," he chimes. "You're taking me so well."
You've never felt anything like this. Your entire body is numb and slick with sweat. All you can do is grab onto his hair and try your best to lift your hips to meet his thrusts.
To help you out, he grabs your body and switches positions slightly. He lifts himself up then clutches your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders. Then his hands grip onto your hips and he has access to you in a way that allows him to go much deeper. You know you can't take much more. You're close to crying just from how much you want to scream his name.
Your eyes keep fluttering shut but you force them opening, wanting to keep them on the man doing this to you. His tousled hair, his flexed biceps, his tattooed chest.
"Harder, please," you whisper. "I'm nearly there."
Thrusting harder, he also adds his fingers back to your clit, rubbing harshly. It's almost painful on your sensitive nerves but it feels unreal and it's enough to build you up to near-ecstasy.
Your mouth hangs open but you refrain from making any noise. In one unexpected motion, he lands a slap to your clit and it sends your orgasm rushing.
"Good girl, that's it," he guides you through as your body starts to spasm.
He continually pounds into you and turns his head to the side to place soft kisses to your inner thigh, contrasting the way he now ruthlessly moves inside of you.
You contract around him as you cum and you can tell he is trying his hardest to hold on as he visibly hesitates, not knowing where to release.
"Cum inside me, Negan," you give permission. "Want it so bad."
Those words were all he needed as he spills inside you, the warm liquid filling you.
Gradually, his movements slow down as he fucks you through the both of your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper inside you, and then pulls out and collapses next to you.
You rest your head on his shoulder and to your surprise, he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss to your forehead.
"Holy shit," you giggle, the whole situation setting in.
Negan's about to speak but his sentence stops forming when the bathroom door opens and closes again. You'd completely forgot about that.
The two of you exchange a glance as you wait for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway. Once they're gone, you relax back into his embrace.
Absentmindedly, you place your hand on Negan's warm chest, tracing the ink of his tattoos. Its surprisingly comforting having him this close, to be held by him. You're entranced by the smell of his cologne and the way his chest heaves up and down, catching his breath. He smiles as he watches you, equally as entranced by you. He can't quite believe that the daydreams he thought were exactly that - daydreams - have come to life.
"We'll have to do this again," he grins coyly, "some place where you can scream my name as loud as you need to." His hands run over your body, cupping your breasts as if to appreciate as much of you as possible.
"I'd like that," you smile back, snuggling into his arms. You know you can't stay here all night, but you'll appreciate it for as long as possible.
Summary: one last goodbye before Peña leaves Colombia for good. Inspired by "The Blackest Day" by Lana Del Rey because Javier is a walking Lana song.
Warnings (18+): smut, vaginal sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), rough sex.
Note: this is not particularly important when reading but the reader is a Colombian journalist. So while all dialogue is in English to make things easier, they converse in Spanish/Spanglish in my mind (FYI).
Contains content suitable only for those above 18 years of age. Minors, please do not continue!
"Don't wanna talk about the things to come."
"Looking for love in all the wrong places."
"Cause there's nothing for me to think about. Now that he's gone, I can't feel nothing."
"I'm on my own again."
"So that's it?" You ask, approaching Javier on the balcony of your hotel room. He's stood, looking out across the city of Bogotá, a cigarette in one hand, and the other rubbing his temples.
"Yeah." He nods. "That's it."
You weren't naïve and you certainly weren't stupid. You knew Peña's time in Colombia was coming to an end, after all you'd played a part in it by publishing the truth about the Colombian president. But some self-preserving part of you pushed that deep down. Maybe denial isn't the healthiest of coping mechanisms after all.
"You came to say goodbye." You meant it as a question, but it came out as a statement. A statement dowsed in hurt.
You'd come to grow quite fond of Javier's company in the months you'd known him. You respected him and - even though the two of you weren't "exclusive" - you couldn't help developing some feelings for him by being in a physical relationship with him. Even if it was just knowing that you weren't alone. And you're sure he felt a similar way, even if his feelings were just a fraction of yours for him.
"Something like that." He says, taking a drag of his cigarette.
You walk up behind him, placing your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his waist. The scent of his cologne and cigarettes is intoxicating.
You don't want him to go, but you don't have to say it. He knows. Regardless, you would never dream of saying such a thing. Laying your heart on the line.
"I've put my heart and soul into trying to bring these sons of bitches down." He signs. You can feel the tension in his shoulders. "Whenever I think we've got 'em, it turns out this shit runs deeper and deeper than I could have ever imagined."
"You did your best."
"You should take this as a win."
"You should be celebrating."
All sentiments that he has heard numerous times. You know that's not what he needs to hear. In fact, you understand that even if this was a victory against the Cali cartel, there is no reason to celebrate.
"It's time for you to go back home." It pains you, almost physically, to say. But you know it's true.
"I'm not sure I can." He says. This is his life now. Or at least it has been for the last God-knows-how-many years. He's not sure he knows how to leave it behind.
He puts his cigarette out and turns around to face you, your hands now holding onto the balcony so that he is trapped in your grip.
You don't say anything. You don't know what to say. You've never been any good at consoling people. Looking into his eyes you see his pain. How everything he's seen haunts him.
"I'm sorry for dragging you into this shit." His eyeline flickers to the ground.
You give him a sad smile. A short, humourless chuckle. "I dragged myself into this shit. Taking down the fucking president, huh?"
"No," he says. "Not that." His eyes meet yours again, apologetically.
"What, then?" You ask. He doesn't answer and you try searching his eyes again. They seem to be his tell, after all.
His hands reach up to cup your face, stroking your cheeks gently. You get what he's saying. But you've never spoken about the "relationship" between you. Never acknowledged it. You spoke about business. You had sex. That was it.
"Us?" You ask quietly, afraid you're picking up on the wrong thing.
"It's not fair of me to dump all of this on you and then jet back to Texas." He frowns.
"Javier, don't worry about me. You don't need anything more to stress about." You scoff. "I'm fine. I'll be fine." Lies.
Javier's lips brush yours gently, and your heart flutters.
"This is it then?" You ask, knowing the answer. He doesn't have to respond.
He goes in for the kiss, passionately all of a sudden. His mouth crashing against yours. His hands wander down to your hips and grip you, pulling your body close to his, while your hands weave their way up into his thick locks of hair.
He starts walking, pushing you back inside and onto the bed. You fall back, his body pressing you into the mattress. Hungrily, he moves his kisses along your jawline and down your neck, grabbing your wrists and pinning them into the pillows beside your head.
"Javier," you moan as his tongue explores your body further, moving down to your clavicle. The fabric of your shirt blocks his destination, so he removes his hands from your wrists to practically rip your top off. He's met with your bra, which he removes in a swift movement before hungrily continuing to explore your body. He places gentle kisses on your breast then traces his tongue around your nipple, causing you to shudder.
"Javier," you say again, but this time with the intention of getting his attention. God, you wish he could do that to you all day, but you know how stressed he is and you want to do one of the few things you can to help.
He looks up at you, eyes wide, lips swollen, hair messy. You take the opportunity to switch positions, so that you're on top, and he complies. Straddling him, you feel his semi-hard cock press into your thigh, and try your hardest to keep your composure, grinding into it slightly and being rewarded with a gutteral moan.
You lean forward to press a kiss on Javi's lips before unbuttoning his shirt and discarding it onto the floor. You feel the tension leaving his body as you kiss his cheek, his neck, his shoulder blade, his chest, his stomach. You make sure to prolong it as long as you can, revelling in the way you're making him relax. Until you reach his waist.
Lifting yourself up, you unbuckle his belt and pull down both his pants and his boxers, pulling them off at his ankles with a little bit of his help. While you're at it, you remove your skirt, leaving him fully naked and you only in your panties.
He's practically rock solid by the time you reach his length. You place your fingers around him, stroking up and down painstakingly slow, until his hips are bucking up into your hand. Leaning back down, you place a soft kiss on his tip before trailing your tongue up and down, spreading his pre-cum.
You know what he needs, and don't want to leave him waiting any longer, so you take him into your mouth, going as far as you can.
"That's it, baby." He moans, his voice hoarse and gravelly.
You relax your jaw and open up your throat, taking him as far as possible and holding yourself there until you need to come up for breath, slowly lifting your head, but never fully removing his cock from your mouth. Your movements are slow, but sloppy, taking the time to trace your tongue along the veins in his cock. You love the way he writhes beneath you. How you have to hold his thighs in place. The gentle pants he lets out, your name on his tongue.
"Fuck, you're good at that," he practically whispers. The approval is all that is needed to send wetness flooding to your core.
Your movements speed up, testing the waters. You take note of how his body reacts to certain techniques and make an effort to repeat them.
"Baby, shit...stop," he pants and you look up at him, worried. "I need to fuck you." Relief floods over him. For a moment, you were scared he was having second thoughts. You release his cock from your mouth with an obscene 'pop', and crawl back up to straddle him again. He plants his hands on your hips and uses his firm grip to flip you under him, taking your lips against his.
The kiss is hot and heavy. It says more than a thousand words ever could. Everything you can't - won't - say to each other, is communicated.
His hands creep down your body, toying with the hem of your panties, but not for long. He pulls them down and you kick them off your ankles, spreading your legs slightly so that he has access you.
His fingers softly run over your clit and you can't help but whimper, somewhat pathetically. You're so desperate for him. He pushes one finger inside you, slowly followed by another, and he gasps when he feels how soaked you are for him. You impatiently wait for him to speed up his movements but he moves painstakingly slow, stretching you gently around his fingers.
You begin to beg and grind up into his touch. "Javier, please."
"Be patient, hermosa." He soothes. Normally you'd expect sarcasm or teasing, but this time he is being sincere with you.
He removes his fingers from you, leaving you temporarily empty. Though before you can complain, you feel his tip lining up at your entrance. Taking his time, he pushes inside you until he can't go any further.
You never get used to the stretch. He fits inside you so well.
He begins to move, and you let out a breath you didn't even realise you were holding. There's something different in the atmosphere as he thrusts in and out of you, kissing you sweetly.
You lift your legs up and wrap them around his back, wanting him deeper inside you. Wanting him closer. You want every single possible inch of skin to be touching his.
It feels intimate and emotional as he places one hand on your thigh to keep you pressed against him, and the other slips behind your neck to lift your body up closer to his. You both rock your hips, settling on a pace, not too fast but not too slow. You both need this to last as long as possible.
His moves are steady, and you can feel yourself coming closer to climax, even just from penetration. But he knows what you need, and removes the hand on your thigh to tease your clit. His thrusts remain the same, somewhat gentle, but his fingers are much more rough on your clit.
"Oh, Javier," you let out. "Fuck!"
"It's okay, baby," he whispers into your neck, his head buried in your hair. "Come on."
You feel that familiar sensation building up, about to reach it's climax. You're no longer aware of your surroundings, only your pleasure. Javier is whispering praises to you, but you can't focus on them. One thrust is all you need to send you toppling over the edge, crying out his name.
In your state of pure bliss, it starts to hit you. The reality of the situation. Your eyes swell with tears, you're not sure if it's from the pleasure or your despair. Either way, you bury your face into the crook of Javier's neck, not wanting him to see the tears that are now rolling down your face.
He fucks you through your orgasm, removing his fingers from your clit as to not overstimulate you. Once you've come down, all you can focus on is finding that high again. Finding anything that can stop you facing reality.
You begin to kiss Javier's neck, nibbling ever so slightly and he caresses your hair.
"I need more, Javi." You say, knowing that he wants to fuck you for as long as you can take.
He doesn't say anything, he simply starts his movements up again, relighting that fire deep in your loins.
"Fuck me hard," you whimper. He has every intention of doing that, but before he does, he gently grabs your cheek to pull your face away from his neck. His heart aches when he sees the tears on your face, and you try to avoid eye contact with him. You need him to fuck you roughly and take your mind off everything.
Gripping your jaw, he pushes your head back down on the pillow beneath you, pressing a sensitive kiss onto your cheek, tasting the salt of your tears.
Then, without warning, that's when he does what you ask. He begins to thrust in and out of you with all the power he has, and the cries that you let out are obscene.
"Javi.." you mumble, "Fuck, Ja-...oh please." You don't know what you're saying. Your mind isn't functioning, which is exactly what you wanted.
He places a hand around your throat, not choking you, but simply squeezing tight enough to keep you in place. His other hand sneaks around your waist, lifting you up to meet each and every one of his long, hard thrusts.
"Baby, fuck," he says as you gasp and moan beneath him.
He kisses you sloppily, needing to be physically connected to you in every way possible. You let him take charge as he pounds into you, and you thrust your hips up with every beat.
You quickly feel your orgasm building yet again as he finds a pace that works for the both of you.
"Harder," you mumble, quickly slipping into a moan as his fingers work back to your clit.
"There you go." He praises, as you clench around him with the contact to your clit.
The hand on your neck wanders down, grasping at your breasts almost desperately. The way he handles you is rough - painful - but in the best way possible. He rolls your nipple through his fingers, pinching, then goes back to squeezing and clawing at your flesh. All the while, your mind is growing fuzzier and fuzzier as you reach your peak.
"Javi, I'm-" you croak.
"I know, cariño," he soothes. "You're taking it so well."
You wrap your arms around his back, squeezing tightly and likely leaving nail marks on his back as he gives one last push, toppling you over the edge.
You call out his name like it's the only word you know. In that moment, it might as well be. He fully consumes you. He's all you know.
The next thing you know, he's pulling out and you feel his warmth spill all across your stomach and thighs. Such a small, meaningless thing makes you feel special. Like he's marking you.
You finally relax into the sheets, flopping your body weight down as Javier rolls next to you.
You eyelids flutter heavily as you feel sleep dawning on you, so you're grateful when Javier gets up to grab a cloth and clean you up. However, it's evident he's not done with you yet when he lays back down next to you and starts to softly trail his fingers across your skin, kissing your clavice.
"I want to memorise every detail of your body," he whispers into your ear and you whimper slightly. You're already so sensitive from being fucked with so much passion, so his touch sets your skin on fire.
He takes his sweet time, tongue exploring every inch of your being. He leaves marks and bruises all across your chest, biting and then softly licking and kissing to soothe your skin. He worships your breasts as your hands entwine in his hair.
Eventually, his mouth reaches where he has so recently fucked, tracing his tongue along your inner thigh towards your centre. Your hips buck when his tongue reaches your clit, so he grabs your thighs and pushes you into the mattress. He's aware of how sensitive you are, so he doesn't involve his fingers, but his mouth is enough to drive you crazy.
He laps at you hungrily, intent on memorising the taste of you. Memorising the way you squirm beneath him at every one of his movements.
He sucks on your clit, kisses it and swirls his tongue around it. He fucks you with his tongue. All of it building you up to another orgasm. It doesn't take long.
Your legs squeeze around his head and he elicits crude sounds from you and he revels in that feeling. He can tell you're close from how wet you're getting, and he makes sure to lap up every last drop. Finally, you reach your peak and your orgasm rips through your body, blinding you as you tell Javier's name, tears rolling down your face and smudging your mascara. In all the time you've spent with Javi, you've never felt pleasure quite like this. Knowing that you'll never see each other again has only made things a hundred times more passionate.
He lays next to you and wraps a single arm around you, wanting to be close to you, but not wanting to create anything too intimate, scared for both of your feelings.
"Fuck," he says panting heavily.
"I'm going to struggle to find a replacement," you joke, Javi chuckling at it. But neither of you find it funny. It's all a front, stopping you from facing your emotions.
Before you can exchange any more words, sleep consumes you. It's no surprise: you're exhausted, both physically and mentally. And despite all the emotional turmoil, you get the deepest night's sleep you've had in a long time.
When morning comes, you're awaken by light creeping through the thin hotel curtains. You turn over to find the bed cold and empty next to you. He's gone. On a plane, probably half way to Texas by now.
You think to yourself how it's for the better that he didn't say goodbye with words. That you had that night together and then he left without saying anything. But you can't force yourself to truly belief that.
You'll never know if you really do love him, offer if he just temporarily filled a void. All you know is that you're alone again.
Negan Smith (The Walking Dead) x younger fem!reader - no use of Y/N
Summary: You have a crush on Rick that you can’t act on, and Negan picks up on this. I’m a little fucked up for this...sorry. This is one for the girlies with issues regarding older men lmaooo
Warnings (18+): age gap, swearing, fingering, vaginal sex, slight voyeurism?? maybe?, dom!Negan, degradation, spanking, hairpulling, basically just straight up porn
Not suitable for readers under the age of 18. Minors please do not continue!
Word count: 3.6k
Tensions have been high in Alexandria since Negan and The Saviors took control. Things had been a little too perfect before, but the world has a weird way of balancing that out.
It'd been a couple weeks since you'd had your first "run in" with The Saviors, but they still turned up like clockwork to wreak havoc in the town, and of course Negan would show up too, if not only to taunt Rick.
You'd joined Rick and his group back at the prison after being out in the world alone, so you were no stranger to the harsh reality of today's life. But you'd never forget the relief of knowing you were safe at the prison and not only realising that these people could be trusted, but also that they had an unbelievably hot leader.
Your crush on Rick never simmered down. He was strong, he always put his family first and God he looked good in that uniform he got when you were all given jobs in Alexandria.
But it was a crush and that was all. Nothing would ever come of it, he’s with Michonne, after all. You're not even sure exactly how old he is. You're 20 now, 19 when you met, so he must be about 20 years older than you. Maybe more, even. So you suffer in silence and hope he never notices your lustful and maybe slightly inappropriate glances at his perfect body. What can you say, you’ve always had a thing for an older man.
It's a regular day in Alexandria, the sun is shining quite pleasantly. Rick, Daryl and some others went out on a final last-minute run as The Saviors are expected anytime soon. You wanted to join them too but Rick convinced you to stay for the sake of appeasing Negan if he should arrive early, which wouldn't be out of character. Negan had taken quite a shine to you, so Rick figured you could sweet talk him and keep him busy should anything go down while he was away.
You're occupying yourself in the kitchen of your house, which you share with Tara who is currently babysitting Judith at Rick's house, by baking some cookies. You're not usually the domestic, baking type, but Carol gave you a recipe and it would be a nice gesture to bake for her for once, since she is always doing it for everyone else. Plus, what better time than now when you have nothing better to do?
However, you come to a halt when you hear the familiar rattle of the gate and rumble of the engines of several cars and vans, far too many to belong to the group that went on the run. You knew what that meant. The Saviors.
Pulling the cookies out of the oven, which happen to have finished baking at a very convenient time, you place the tray on the counter top, throw your oven gloves down and leave through your front door, grabbing your jacket as you go.
Walking through the streets of Alexandria with purpose, it takes no time for you to reach the several parked vehicles.
"Ah finally," a recognisable voice rumbles. "A familiar face. This isn't the warm welcome we were hoping for." You spot Negan emerge from behind one of the cars, his bat swinging ever so slightly in his hand.
"I mean, who the fuck are all these losers?" He laughs, pointing to the nervous looking citizens of Alexandria who let him in.
"They're the people who are going hungry so that you can continue to feed your ego." You retort plainly.
"Ouch," he gasps jokingly, putting his hand to his chest and leaning back. "Don't insult me, darling."
You raise your eyebrows at him impatiently and he grins.
"Now, where is Rick?" He asks. You were waiting for that question.
"He's on a run." You reply.
"Where, though, sweetheart?." He steps closer to you, patronising you. "Use that pretty head of yours. I'm sure you remember him telling you where he was going, don't you?"
He tilts his head and you glare straight through him, his tone angering you, even if you don't want him to see that.
"Fuck," he laughs, his straight composure vanishing. "I knew you wouldn't like that, but it’s just so damn entertaining to piss you off. I couldn't resist." He licks his lips and looks you up and down, checking you out. It wasn't a nice or caring look. He eyed you like a piece of meat, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't send tingles down your spine. The good kind.
You stop yourself and put your thoughts aside, remembering the man you're dealing with. You can't seriously be turned on right now? You're just not thinking straight with everything that's been going on, right?
"I'm assuming you're here for more than just to objectify me?" You say, gesturing to all the men stood by the vans and cars behind Negan.
"That can wait until Rick gets back." He wordlessly communicates with the Saviors, telling them to stay put, then turns back to you. "Let's go have a chat. Just you and me."
Negan not far behind, you head to your house, knowing there's no point in arguing.
Once you both reach your house, he walks straight into the kitchen, following the smell of the freshly baked cookies. Spotting the tray, his eyes light up and he grabs one immediately, taking a bite.
"Delicious," he smiles. "Oh, you are a good girl, aren't you?" He winks teasingly and leaves the room, heading to your sofa. You’re glad he’s not looking at you because your eyes almost pop out of your head at the pet name. You have to internally kick yourself for being so depraved.
You follow behind him into the living room as he makes himself comfortable in your home as if it was his own.
"Sit," he gestures to the seat next to him, but instead you sit on the other couch. "Still not warmed to me after all this time? Or do you just not like obeying me?"
You don't answer and simply look at him impatiently.
"It doesn't matter either way," he adds, unphased by your lack of answer. "There's something I quite like about you, darling."
"Rick shouldn't be long." You state, changing the topic of the conversation.
"Ahh. Rick." He smiles mischievously. You tilt your head in confusion, not sure what he's getting at. "Yes, I'm sure you're missing him dearly."
"Well, I wish he'd hurry up so I wouldn't have to sit here babysitting you." You reply, trying to understand the intent behind Negan's almost sarcastic tone.
"Don't play dumb with me, baby." He grins. "We both know you're not." He's not insinuating what you think he is, is he?
"Enough, Negan." You blush, still not sure if Negan is referencing your crush for Rick or if you're just paranoid. You kick yourself for allowing Negan of all people to embarrass you.
He notices your flushed cheeks and chuckles. "My intuition never fails. You want to fuck Rick. I’ve seen how you look at him."
"I-" you object. "That's not- Negan..." But your words stumble over each other.
"It's okay," he says playfully. "It hurts but I accept it. I don't understand why you'd want that pathetic son of bitch over me but-"
"Negan," you say warningly.
"Oh? Did that hit a rough spot? I'm ever so sorry." He teases, but it just angers you. "I'm just calling it how I see it."
You take a deep breath and compose yourself, feeling your cheeks cool and your heart rate settle, talking sense into yourself. There's no reason to let this embarrass you.
"I'm not having this conversation with you. We can talk business, or nothing at all."
"Yeah...that's not gonna work." He says flatly. "I'm quite enjoying this little conversation. I love a good romance story. Especially a forbidden romance ."
You look at him blankly, not giving him the satisfaction of annoying you.
"I mean, come on. A pretty young girl like you with a man like Rick? What is it about him?" He leans forward, smirking and lowering his voice seductively. "Does the thought of an older man fucking you turn you on?"
You sit in silence, looking him dead in the eye as he slowly stands up and walks towards you, closing the space between you and towering above you.
"'Cause I might not be Rick but I could fuck you exactly like you deserve, sweetheart."
A surge of anger and arousal floods through your veins. You slowly rise to your feet and the urge to punch Negan in the face is overwhelming, but the rational part of you stops yourself.
"Don't you speak to me like that," you hiss, pointing your finger in front of his face.
"Don't act like you don't like it." He grins smugly and you push him back with force, wanting to hurt him but knowing that hitting him would be a stupid decision.
He tilts his head downwards, looking you in the eyes, and his expression flattens. "You have some nerve doing that."
"You're an asshole." You gasp, brushing your hair out of your face.
"I know," he smirks.
For a moment, you both stand there looking at each other in silence. He eventually backs up to return to his seat on the couch, but something switches in you and before he can reach the sofa, you're stood in front of him, grabbing the lapel of his leather jacket.
You don't know what has overcome you. A combination of stress, anger, rage and horniness has pent up and reached its peak: resulting in this moment.
"You think you can fuck me like I deserve?" You whisper. "Prove it." You release his jacket from your grip and stand with your hands by your side, looking up at his towering figure and waiting for his reaction.
A grin spreads across his face. "You are like no other woman I've ever met." He closes the gap between the two of you and reaches his lips towards yours, mouths crashing together. The kiss is hot and passionate as your hands grip his hair before moving down, tracing his arms and stomach, before gently palming his bulge through his trousers.
He elicits a deep groan, breaking the kiss to take his jacket off then swiftly taking his attention back to you. He grips your waist and pushes you into the wall, grinding his crotch against you. As much as you hate giving him the satisfaction, you let out a satisfied gasp and he chuckles lightly. He towers over you, and having his large hands pin you in place, gripping so hard he might bruise you...it turns you on beyond belief.
You let your primal instincts take over and just want rough satisfaction. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, you pull it over his head, admiring his tattoos as you do so. Returning the favor, he practically rips your top open and your bra off.
"So fucking hot," he groans as he gropes your breasts with his calloused hands. However, he doesn't spend long tending to your breasts before he unzips your jeans and pulls them to your ankles, leaving you only in some lace, black panties.
"How wet are you, darling?" He whispers, tugging your underwear aside and trailing his rough fingers through your folds. "Fucking knew it. Soaked." He holds up his fingers in front of you tauntingly, your wetness glistening on them.
"Dirty girl, aren't you?"
"Shut up." You snap, grabbing his lower back of and pulling him towards you so that you can grind up against the bulge in his jeans again.
"You’ll regret talking to me like that." He practically growls.
He places his fingers back where they were, gently stroking your clit before pushing two of them inside you, your wetness allowing for it.
"Oh!" You gasp, eliciting a deep moan. Desperate to feel more of him inside you, to feel pain, you push yourself against his fingers, forcing them deeper inside you, but he pulls out.
"So desperate." He laughs, non-chalant.
“Please, Negan.” You beg, wanting to feel him again, but he just laughs again.
Though he's not left unaffected either. He's rock solid, practically bursting through his pants, and when you take your hand and tease him, stroking up and down through the denim, it does nothing to help.
"This what I do to you?" You whisper, turning the tables on him, trying to keep your voice composed as his fingers mindlessly explore your chest and midriff while practically staring you down. All you can think about is having him inside you again. A single finger. Anything. But you don’t have it in you to beg him for it.
"I don't keep secrets, darling. You know I want you." He tilts his head playfully, looking deep into your eyes.
"Have you imagined this before? Fucking me?" You continue. "Fucking someone less than than half your age? That really get you going, huh?"
"That mouth's going to get you in fucking trouble." He spits. “I told you you’d regret it.” He shoves two fingers into your mouth, his way of keeping you quiet, and you can taste yourself on his fingers. Instinctively you suck on his digits, and it drives him wild. He’d have you suck his cock if he thought he’d be able to hold on.
"Behave," he utters in your ear, barely loud enough to hear, bringing his face next to yours so you can look at him. Unable to speak, you glare at him angrily, but it just makes the smug grin on his face increase.
Negan spins you round, removing his fingers from your mouth and making you face the wall as he forcefully presses you up against it. Without warning you feel a harsh slap against your ass and it sends wetness rushing to your core.
"You like that?" He asks, slapping you again. You don't reply, but you can't help the moan that you release.
You desperately need him inside you. It clouds your mind and it's almost like he can read your mind when you feel something else rubbing up against your slit.
"I'm gonna fuck you so good," Negan mutters.
He gives your ass a final harsh slap that makes your knees weak then, without warning, his cock is inside you and you both release guttural groans. However, the angle is restricting him so he grabs your hip with one hand and wraps your hair around the other in order to move you towards the desk in the corner of the room. He slams you down, your breasts pressing against the hard surface, and rams himself deeper inside you.
He doesn't remove his hand from your hair, he simply pulls harder, but you love it. He pounds roughly into you and the mix of pleasure and pain builds a knot up in your stomach.
Tears stream down your eyes, your make up surely smudging. Your chest is red and sore from rubbing against the wood of the desk and Negan makes sure to continue slapping your ass as his thrusts speed up and get continuously harder inside of you. You know it won't be long until you find your much needed release.
"God, you feel so fucking good, sweetheart." He moans. "Making it hard for me to hold on."
"Fuck," you curse shakily, his words bringing you closer as your walls begin to close around his cock. One final push sends you over the edge and the world blurs around you. But he’s not done with you yet. He continues fucking you through your orgasm. The world around you has faded as you focus entirely on your immense pleasure. Your orgasm begins to fade enough for you to become aware of your surroundings again, but everything soon becomes hazy again as Negan speeds up.
“I’m not fucking done with you yet,” he pants, placing a hard slap on your ass, your core gushing at the motion, squeezing him tighter. “You like when I hurt you? You’re a fucking whore.” His words get more and more harsh, the longer he fucks you. You’re practically drunk off of his cock, your body weak and limp as he uses you like your body belongs to him. You don’t have it in you to respond.
“Answer me,” he demands, emphasizing his point with yet another slap, each slap hurting more and more with how sensitive your skin is becoming.
“Fuck,” you whimper. “Yes. Yes.”
He slows down his movements until he comes to a halt and grabs your hair yet again, using your head to guide you upwards, so that your back is flush to his chest. He has to help you stand as your legs can’t support your body weight. Pulling out of you, he turns you around and sits you on the desk so that he can look at you as he fucks you. He wants to see your face when he cums.
He positions himself between your open legs and swiftly pushes himself back inside of you. Once he’s inside you, he lifts you off the desk and carries you to the sofa he was previously sat on. You let him carry you wherever and as he does you grind down on his cock, desperate to feel him move inside you.
“Have some fucking patience,” he says sternly, yet cockily. Once he has you pinned down on the sofa, he picks up the pace without wasting anymore time. This position is easier for you and the softness of the sofa contrasts with the hard desk, feeling nice on your skin, but you crave that feeling of pain. Negan has that covered.
His movements grow sloppier and rougher, hitting spots inside you that you never deemed possible. One hand slips down to stimulate your clit and he uses the other to slap you across the face. You let out an obscene, pornographic moan as he does so and he almost loses it then. But he wants to make you cum one more time. And from the way you squeezed around him when he slapped you, he knows you like it.
The noises the two of you make are crude and they fill the room. The whole house even. Maybe even the street. You sob, feeling overstimulated. The pleasure and pain merging to create a feeling of ecstasy you have never experienced in your entire life. He can tell you’re getting close, and so is he.
He speeds up his motions on your clit, your legs shaking uncontrollably. His unoccupied hand moves up to your throat, gripping under your jawline. He doesn’t choke you, but he holds you tight enough to show you who’s in charge. As if you couldn’t have figured that out already.
“Negan,” you whimper. “I’m so close.”
“I know, baby,” he says, surprisingly gentle. “You’re being so good.”
He burrows his face in your breasts, sucking and biting, probably covering you in marks.
You didn't hear anyone knock and you didn’t hear the door to your house open but someone must have come in because you hear loud footsteps - someone wearing boots. You’re about to climax however, so you can’t think clearly enough to understand what that means.
Your moans grow faster and more breathless, and one rub of your clit sends you over the edge, calling out Negan’s name as you cum around him.
Mid-orgasm you notice a figure in the corner of the room and you turn your head to look at the door frame and see a more than familiar face.
Rick stands at the entrance to the room, horror written across his face. He only stands there for a millisecond before mumbling an incoherent apology and leaving, but it feels like a life time as you make eye contact with him while Negan pounds into you.
Once Rick leaves, your attention turns back to Negan who is pulling out of you, and you feel his cum release all over your breasts and stomach.
Neither of you speak for a few moments as he zips his pants up. You stay sprawled on the couch, physically struggling to move, but also not wanting to, as Negan gets a cloth to quickly clean you up. You stand up, barely making it without falling, getting your clothes without even looking at Negan.
"Well," he says, leaning back and rubbing his chin with his hand. "Shit just got complicated."
You both get your clothes on as he smirks to himself. You sit back down as soon as possible because your legs are starting to hurt worse than they were only a minute ago.
"I think I have a conversation due with Rick the Prick. I'm sure he'll be waiting outside." He laughs to himself. "You'd better clean yourself up unless you want everyone to know you just had your shit rocked."
You’re sat in complete shock on the sofa and he crouches down to make eye-contact with you, lifting your chin with his fingers so that you’re forced to look at him.
“Unless you want everyone to know you’re a dirty little slut.”
You say nothing as he stands, grabs his jacket and heads for the door. Before he leaves though, he turns back to you and says, "Thanks for that, darling. I won't forget that for a long time."
================================
Sorry I've been gone for so long! Uni has been intense, but I'm back and I'm writing again!!
Summary: Rick consoles in you during troubles with his and Lori's relationship.
Warnings: [NSFW] smut, cheating, swearing, unprotected sex
It wasn't often that rainy spells hit the prison like this, especially since only days earlier you had been out working the farm land in the scorching heat. It took everyone by surprise, and people didn't know what to do with themselves, cooped up inside the walls of the prison all over again.
Tensions had been somewhat high recently, what with Rick and Lori's baby on the way and Glenn and Maggie fighting with each other, so the rainfall didn't particularly come at a convenient time. It wasn't exactly a happy little group bonding activity.
"Okay, pay attention to this part," you say, sat on the concrete floor of the prison with Carl, Rick's young boy. You hold up a semi-constructed origami swan.
"I am!" Carl laughs, working on a messy looking origami swan, but it looks like a swan nevertheless.
"Don't underestimate the skill that origami takes, kid," you chuckle, patting his head. "You might be handy with a gun but this is a whole new world."
He giggles and shuffles impatiently. "Just show me!"
"Fine," you grin. "So you see this part here?"
Carl nods as you point to one of the corners of the paper object.
"You have to fold it like this, in a way that it-"
You're interrupted when you hear your name called.
You turn around and see Rick walking towards you.
"Yeah?" You reply, twisting round to face him as you speak to him.
"I need some help." He states plainly. "Come with me."
"Can it wait, Dad?" Carl asks disappointedly. "My swan is nearly finished. I'm making it for Mom."
You could swear you see Rick wince at the mention of Carl's mother.
"There's time to finish it later, Carl." He drawls. "I need Y/N to come with me for now, though."
"Okay," he sighs. "Promise you'll help me finish later?"
"I promise," you smile, standing up and completing your swan as you do so. You lean over and hand it to him. "Have mine for now. Keep it safe." You wink and walk away, feeling a little guilty for having to leave him.
"What is it that can't wait?" You say to Rick, a little annoyed.
"Electrical problems on the other side of the building."
You nod. "And you needed me? Why not Glenn? He's been sat picking at the walls with boredom all day."
"I'm not in the mood to have my ears talked off." He states bluntly. "You get that more than anyone."
You smile softly to yourself. It's nice to know that Rick has chosen you because he wanted to, not because of convenience or practicality.
Yours and Rick's relationship was a strange one. You undoubtedly had feelings for him, but it felt strange knowing he was a married man. It would be easier for you to manage your feelings if he didn't flirt at times, or create unbearable tension, but he did (whether it was intentional or not). You just had to think of Lori and the baby. Maybe Rick just flirts for fun, he clearly has a life away from you to take care of.
But romantic feelings aside, you were good friends. Neither of you were good at communicating emotions, though, which is why Rick basically admitting he wants you to come fix the electrics with him is a good feeling, whether romantic or platonic. You trusted each other, you got each other and you didn't need words to communicate when facing walkers, problems in the prison or other issues. You like to think that it transfers into your personal relationship as well, but you can't be too sure.
You walk in comfortable silence for a few minutes, your hand instinctively placed on the knife in the holster on your belt in case of danger.
"You're good with him, you know." Rick says, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?" You ask.
"Carl." He clarifies. "You're good with him."
"He's a good kid," you smile. "Guess he has a good dad."
He frowns and shakes his head. "He deserves better parents."
You lose the smile on your face in response to his statement. "You know that's not true."
"Lori and I are a mess." He sighs, frustrated. "I'm glad the poor kid has you."
You grab his arm to stop him, and turn him to face you.
"Don't say shit like that." You snap. "I've seen how much you love him. The both of you. Don't let whatever is going on with you and Lori make you think you're anything other than the best father any kid could have."
He runs his hand over his jawline, tense and clearly stressed.
"I can barely be a father to Carl, what happens when I have another kid here?" His eyes water. "Me and Lori are on the brink of divorce, which..." He laughs humourlessly. "How does a divorce even work in the middle of a fucking apocalypse?"
You sigh and look at him intently as he talks to you. This is the most vulnerable you've ever seen him.
"I don't want to leave her, I mean I love her and I want our kid to have parents that are together." You nod understandingly while he explains. "Some stability in this world would be nice. But then every time I look at her I think-"
His voice breaks as he talks and you take his hand and grip it in support.
"I think of Shane. I think of them together I think of what-" he takes a deep breath and straightens his posture. "Of what I did to him. Of what he made me do to him."
He stops talking and looks at you in your eyes. You're not sure what to say and simply gaze at him empathetically, wanting him to know that you care and are here to listen to him.
Suddenly he breaks the eye contact, pulling his hand from yours and briskly walking ahead. You run slightly to catch up with him as he walks and it's clear that he wants to leave the previous conversation behind, so you continue in silence yet again.
After a moment you decide to speak up.
"Before all this," you begin, "I was a-" you pause and laugh a little. "I was a therapist."
Rick turns his head to you and you feel satisfied when you see a miniscule smile on his face, no matter how small.
"Really?" He asks, thinking you're messing with him.
"Really." You assure and he scoffs, entertained.
"Years of training, and probably hundreds of patients...I thought I could be prepared for any situation." You continue. "Turns out a zombie apocalypse takes a toll on a person. I don't know how the fuck to react to any expressed emotion anymore."
You continue walking, and can see Rick's gaze on you out of the corner of your eye as you talk to him.
"I have all the...all the knowledge of what shit means," you say, tapping your temple with your index finger, "but in principle, I'm so lost. I think I'd make the worst therapist possible now."
Rick chuckles and it's a noise that lights up an inexplicably pleasant feeling in the depths of your chest.
"If you met me two years ago," you laugh, "I would've given you some fucking great advice."
"I'd rather just know you're really listening," he admits, "I don't want that generic therapist bullshit." He shoots you a teasing glance and you roll your eyes. "No offense."
"None taken." You say, and think deeply for a moment. "I guess we've all lost certain parts of ourselves, but maybe it makes us better people in the end."
Rick doesn't reply at first, as you arrive at the room you intended to reach.
"That's an optimistic way of looking at it." He says it in a way that leads you to believe he is not fully convinced.
"Maybe optimism is all we have anymore," you exhale. "And that's coming from a die hard pessimist."
Rick opens a cupboard in the corner and pulls out a tool kit while you open the circuit board.
"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here, Rick." You say.
"Just do what I tell you." He smirks.
"Yes, sir." You laugh playfully.
You help Rick as he guides you through the actions required to fix the electrical problems. When you're both nearly done, he lets you finish the job, and when you do so, some lights on the machine flick on.
"There we go," Rick says.
"Maybe I have a new career ahead of me," you grin, swivelling around to face Rick behind of you, but when you face him, he's not smiling back. "Are you okay?"
His gaze burns through you as you stand there waiting for a reply. There is a look in his eyes that you can't quite place, but then he turns his back to you, breaking the moment.
"Rick?" You're worried when he doesn't reply to your question. You walk up behind him and place your hand on his shoulder. "What's wro-"
You're cut off when he turns around and takes you by surprise, pressing his lips to yours. Before you have time to react, he presses you up against the nearest wall, your top hitching up a little. He removes his lips from yours to observe your reaction and you stare at him longingly for a split second before continuing the kiss yourself, pulling his face into yours passionately.
Months of tension has built up into this heated moment, and at the flick of a switch, it is being released. His hands roam your body before finding a firm grip on your hips, pulling you close to him.
"I've wanted this since I first laid eyes on you in Atlanta," Rick whispers into the kiss and your breath hitches at the admission.
"Rick," you say, almost panting as he grins himself up against you.
It all moves so fast as he goes to slide his hands up your shirt, squeezing your breasts through your bra. You place your own hands on his toned chest, trying to keep yourself steady as his tongue explores your mouth.
He pulls away from the kiss and you miss the contact, but then realise he is reaching for the hem of your top. He pulls it upwards and begins to expose your torso, but you stop him.
"Here?" You gasp, wanting to continue with this, but assuming you would remain as fully clothed as possible. What if someone came looking for you? What if walkers managed to get in? "Leave it on."
He looks at you with irresistible eyes. "I want to see your body," he pleads and you nod immediately, allowing him to remove your top. Caution flies to the wind as soon as he gives you that look. It makes you feel like the only girl in the world. It melts you to the core.
You unbutton his shirt until it's loosely hanging on so that you can get access to his chest, running your hands up and down, exploring his skin. As you do so, he unhooks your bra and throws it to the floor, making you feel incredibly vulnerable in front of him.
"God, you're fucking beautiful," he mutters and you feel yourself blushing under his intense stare. You'd thought about this situation many times before, and every time you felt guilty, or conflicted, but in reality when it was happening, there was no reasoning or logic. No thoughts passed through your head other than how badly you wanted the man in front of you.
He unbuttons your pants and slides his hands down into your panties. He has you unbelievably wet, and he used this wetness to spread onto your swollen clit, increasing the pace of your panting with every circle of the bundle of nerves. He has you in the palm of his hand, literally and figuratively, as he uses one hand on your hip to press you against the wall and keep you in place, and the other to pay attention to your core. He slowly slides his index and middle fingers inside you as you writhe and moan quietly, using his thumb to continue to stimulate your clit while he holds his fingers inside you. His motions speed up and he begins to move his fingers in and out of you, pushing deeper every time and curling as they do so. He continues to whisper praises and compliments to you as you come nearer and nearer to you release.
As your moans grow louder, he takes your mouth in a rough kiss, biting gently on your lip. His fingers repeatedly hit the exact right spot inside you, and combined with the repeated stimulation of you clit it becomes too much. The knot that had built up in your stop finally unclenches as you call out his name, a wave of pleasure blinding you.
"Rick!" you call out and he groans deeply in response.
"That's it," he whispers as you come down from your orgasm, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. You kiss him again as you regain a little of your strength, but soon enough you're ready for more, and teasingly trail your finger down his chest, abdomen and to the bulge in his pants. You palm the bulge momentarily, but you can't resist any longer and unzip his fly, wanting to release him from his jeans.
You pull his length out of his boxers and gasp at the sight of how big he is. Even in your dreams it wasn't like this. You stroke his hard length as he grabs your jeans, unbuttons them and pulls them down, just below your bottom.
Wasting no time, he lines himself up at your entrance, teasing you as he pushes in only the tip. You bury your head in his neck in anticipation, pressing little kisses into his skin, clinging onto his shoulders.
"Please," you whimper and without question he pushes himself in fully. You both let out a simultaneous moan as you revel in the feeling of each other's bodies being connected in such a way.
"Fuck," he pants holding himself inside you and trying to maintain his balance. He grabs your jaw and takes your head from out of the crook of his neck. He looks you in the eyes, holding your face in place, as he takes his cock nearly all the way out of you and slams it back into you in one smooth stroke.
You cry out in ecstacy and your eyes roll to the back of your head. After that initial movement, he starts to build up the pace, moving in and out of you steadily. He lifts your legs up so that he is carrying your weight and fucks you passionately into the wall. Your lips meet every so often in a messy kiss as your bodies slam together, filling the room with obscene noises.
His lips move from your lips to your jawline to your neck as one of his hands find your breasts. With his hand he squeezes your breast while circling your nipple with his thumb, observing closely how your body reacts to everything he does to you, and what it is that you like.
He begins to kiss the skin of your neck, sucking and biting. You both know that he's going to leave marks but neither of you are in a place to stop. Plus, you'd be lying if you said the though of him marking you as his didn't turn you on.
The continuous movements in and out of you bring on that familiar feeling yet again, but in a way that you've never felt before. As it grows nearer you're thankful Rick has hold of you because your whole body feels like jelly. One more push and you're unravelling in his grasp, calling out his name. You don't know how loud you're being, but you don't care. You close your eyes as pleasure fills your body. He slows down through your orgasm, but as soon as he sees you coming around again, he speeds up his strokes again.
You want to speak, to thank him, to say anything, but your mind has turned to mush. All you know of in this moment is the pleasure this beautiful man before you is responsible for. You cling onto his toned biceps, veins prominent on his forearms.
"Harder," you barely manage to utter and he let's out a breathless chuckle, following your command.
Both his hands are now gripping onto your ass, and the warmth of the contact strongly contrasts the coldness of the concrete wall against your upper back.
He has so effortlessly brought you near to orgasm again, and you know he won't be able to hold on this time, his composure slipping.
His thrusts become rougher, faster, more primal. He's so close and his body is taking over his mind. Not that you mind. The strength of his body is like nothing you've ever felt before.
A few final thrusts and you're throwing your head back, moaning obscenely.
"Rick!" You yell. "Fuck!"
Your knees buckle, ecstacy fills your veins, your stomach clenches and one push against your g-spot sends your whole world crumbling around you. White blots fill your vision and your limbs feel like electricity is being shot through them, sending pins and needles to your finger tips.
Once again, Rick fucks you through your orgasm, putting your pleasure first as you clench around him. When you've come around a little, you see him hesitate as he's about to release.
"Cum inside me," you say, almost begging, holding him inside you and gazing into his eyes.
He nearly crumbles at your words and the way you look at him. The next thing you know, you feel his warmth spill inside you with a profane grunt and he holds himself inside you as his head tips back and eyes screw closed.
You stroke his hair out of his face and watch his beauty in awe as he cums inside together. It's a surreal moment that you want to remember forever.
After a minute of you appreciating each other, he pulls out of you and places you down gently, helping you stand up on your unstable legs. He tucks himself back into his pants before helping you get yourself dressed again, being extra careful with his touches, compared to how he just fucked you.
You sink down onto the floor, needing to sit and rest, and Rick joins you.
"We've got ourselves into a mess, haven't we?" You chuckle.
"A little." He nods. He presses two fingers against your cheek and uses them to turn you to look at him. He places a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back and smiling sweetly. "I don't regret it one bit, though."
You smile in return. "Is it true what you said? About wanting me since we first met?"
He nods and mindlessly plays with your hair, twiddling it in his fingers. "I've never met anyone like you before."
"And I've never met anyone like you."
Rick sighs. "The group are going to wonder where we are."
"Right, yeah." You agree. "We'd better get back. I've got an origami swan to make."
"Actually," Rick says, holding his finger up, "I think Carl will be making it. You're just advising him."
You laugh at his playful tone. "My apologies. Credit to Carl where it's due."
The two of you stand up, and as you do so, Rick runs his fingers over your neck.
"Fuck," he mutters.
"What?" You ask, suddenly worried, thinking maybe reality had dawned on him.
He traces over the bruises forming over your neck with his fingers, tickling slightly. "I'm going to have some explaining to do."
A smile forms on his face and relief washes over you. This might undoubtedly cause further tensions in the group, but things with you and Rick might just end up as you'd hoped after all.
Summary: Things get steamy when you pay Negan a visit in his cell (set in mid Season 9, I suppose).
Warnings: smut, swearing obviously, dirty talking, oral sex (m recieving)
Over the past few months you had spent most likely a concerning amount of time talking to Negan in his cell. It started with taking him the odd meal, alternating your duty with other people. But over time you regrettably developed a soft spot for him, and dedicated yourself to finding the human underneath his tough exterior. You didn't let him know that though, remaining cold on the outside. That being said, you had pulled some strings for him, he now is allowed daily supervised showers, toothpaste and the occasionally beard and hair trim. All the basic hygiene stuff.
Though the truth is, you are lonely. Rick and Maggie were your closest friends and now they're both gone. Saddiq and Michonne were good friends to you, but Saddiq has enough on his plate at the moment and frankly Michonne hasn't been the same since Rick, so often times you find Negan being the only person to console in. You've never been much of a social butterfly anyway.
It's midday and you're sat watching Negan finish his lunch.
"All gone, ma'am," he says, popping the final bite in his mouth.
You take the plate from him and sit on your seat. He picks up the tennis that he has taken a liking to and bounces it off the wall, catching it, and repeating.
"So, what's the recent gossip?" He smirks. "I hear Gabe's boning Rosita."
"Negan," you scold, eyebrows furrowing. Though you did find their little relationship strange. "That's none of your business. None of our business."
"You reckon she took his virginity?" He continues, blatantly ignoring your remarks, continuing to bounce the ball, a huge mischievous grin spreading across his face.
You shake your head.
"No?" He asks curiously.
You hesitate before you bring it up, but you say it regardless. "I'm pretty sure him and Jadis, Anne, whatever she was called...you know," you widen your eyes and give him a knowing look.
"Really?" He gasps, taking his attention off the ball for a moment, causing it to slip out of his hand and out of the bars. It stops by your foot and you pick it up. He walks over towards the bars and wraps his hands around them.
"How do you know?" He asks.
"I don't know for sure but I've got eyeballs." You reply. "Something happened. I don't know what."
"Shit." He laughs. "I ought to give my boy Gabe credit where it's due. He's a player."
"He's a good Christian, Negan," you say, half sarcastically, earning a chuckle from him.
"Fuck, this is the most interesting thing to have happened in a while." He scoffs.
"That's sad," you laugh, raising your eyebrow at him. "So depraved that you're living through Gabriel's sex life. The vicar's sex life?"
You step closer to the bars, handing Negan his ball, but when he goes to grab it you quickly move your hand away, teasing him.
"You gonna give me my ball, sweetheart?" He smiles patronisingly.
You hold the ball, hovering it ever so slightly out of his reach. "Don't call me sweetheart."
"What would you prefer?" He taunts. "Sweet cheeks? Sugar plum?"
"You've got an awful lot of nerve talking to the only person who comes to see you like that." You warn, pointing your other finger at his face. "Say the wrong thing and I'm gone."
"But you always come back," he replies, cocking his head to the side smugly. "Why is that?"
"You don't get to ask questions." You snap.
"Oh, I like when you get fired up, darling." He smirks.
"I bet you fucking do." You retort impatiently.
"I do." He grins.
You bring your face closer to his and lower your voice, tired of Negan thinking he has you wrapped around his finger. "You also like this top?" You motion to the purple tank top you're currently wearing. "'Cause I've caught you looking at my tits at least ten times in the past five minutes." Your words clearly shock him. "You gonna jerk off to this little interaction later? That how fucking desperate you are?" You don't know what has come over you, you just want to finally have the upper hand.
"I'm a man." He smiles cockily, not embarrassed like you hoped he might have been. "I have needs."
He looks you up and down, his gaze burning into your skin, making you feel naked. "And I'd be lying if I said you weren't smoking hot."
You stroke your finger along his jawline seductively. "You thought about me before?" You ask. "While touching yourself?"
"Fuck yeah." He mutters, his eyes transfixed on your lips.
"Tell me what you think about." You demand.
"Baby, I-" but you interrupt him.
"Tell me." You snap, then moving your lips to trace his jawline and "Tell me and I'll suck your cock." He elicits a small groan and you grab his face in your hand, turning his head to face you. "And don't call me baby."
"Fuck, I- uhh..." He says, his voice gravelly. "I think about taking you in every fucking position, making you scream my name. Even fucking you out there," he points out of the barred window, "bending you over for everyone to see. So they can see how good I fuck you."
You look at him through heavy lidded eyes and in this moment you have never been so attracted to someone.
"See that wasn't too hard, was it?" You smirk, your lips lightly brushing his, just enough to give him a brief taste of what he wants.
"God, you're so fucking hot," he mutters.
"What do you want?" You ask him smugly.
"You know what I want." He groans impatiently. Your hands creeps to his crotch and palms him softly through his pants, forcing a small moan from his lips.
"I want to hear you say it." You whisper. "Beg me."
"Fuck, please," he groans. "Suck my cock. Please."
"That's it." You slowly lower yourself onto your knees and unzip his pants through the bars of the cell. You release him from his boxers and see that he is already rock solid, and he is big. Almost intimidatingly big.
Teasingly, you trace your tongue around his tip, tasting the pre-cum on his cock. His hips buck at the small contact, not used to anything but his hand for so long. He'd been in this cell for years. Soon enough, you take his cock fully into your mouth and you can't help but get butterflies and the deep, gutteral moan he involuntarily let's out as you do so.
Through the bars he grabs your hair, guiding your head up and down his length. The way he pulls on your hair sends tingles down your spine. His hips thrust and you stop your movements as he basically just fucks your mouth, doing all the work himself.
"Fuck," he hisses, and you can tell he is dangerously close. Concocting a plan in your head, you pull away and he stares at you, eyes wide, looking disheveled.
"No, don't stop, I'm about to-"
"I know," you whisper. "Trust me."
He nods, frustrated, but his eyes light up as he notices you start to lift your top up. You lift it off over your head and swiftly unhook your bra, leaving you topless and bare in front of him. He reaches his hands out wordlessly and you step closer to him, kissing him passionately while his hands squeeze and play with your breasts.
Breaking off the kiss, you grin. "You want me to finish what I started?" You don't wait for his answer because his eyes tell you enough, so you drop to your knees yet again, taking your tongue from the base to the tip of his cock, painstakingly slow.
You look up at him before continuing. "I want you to cum on my tits, okay?" He groans at your words. "Think you can do that?"
"Fuck, of course I can do that, sweetheart."
Without warning, you engulf him fully in your mouth again, and he grabs your chin with one hand and wraps your hair around the other, fucking your face mercilessly, picking the pace up in no time. Tears run down your face but you love it.
It doesn't take long for him to get to the point he was previously at because he hurriedly removes himself from your mouth. You brace yourself as he gives himself a mere single stroke, then his release spills onto your chest. He elicits the dirtiest, most primal sounding moans as he does so and it turns you on beyond belief. You can see him struggling to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss the view.
"Fuck," he mumbles as you run your finger along your chest, gathering some of his cum and licking it off, sucking it off seductively. "Jesus Christ, you're unbelievable."
You grab a flannel shirt that you hung over the back of your chair and use it to clean yourself up while Negan zips his pants back up. You put your top back on, but pick your bra off the ground leaving it dangling off your finger.
"You owe me big time for that," you tease.
You pick the tennis ball up (which got dropped at some point) and place it on the chair, along with your black lacy bra, out of Negan's reach. Without another word, you exit the room, leaving Negan breathless, disheveled and hungry for more, reeling from what just happened, sat staring at the ball and the bra that you left to taunt him.
"I'm gonna fuck you next time," you hear him yell as you close the door behind him, eager to have the last word, as always.
Contains content suitable for those above 18 years of age. Minors do not continue!
Summary: morning sex. Just super fluffy Alex!!
Warnings (18+): smut, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fluff
Nothing compares to the feeling of being wrapped in the arms of the man you love, bodies pressed close together as you run your hands through his soft hair. Every so often he presses light kisses on your forehead and cheek, the both of you revelling in the peaceful atmosphere.
The two of you have both somehow managed to stay in bed until the early afternoon, worn out from the event you attended the previous day though you suspected it was more the activities that went on during the late hours of the night that have you so tired, images of Alex underneath you as you ride him flashing through your mind. The memory of his pants and moans crystal clear. You press yourself up against him even further - which was barely possible - at the thought, the warmth of his bare chest comforting. With him just in his boxers and you in an oversized t-shirt and briefs, there was barely anything separating you. He senses your movements and squeezes you tighter, a chuckle escaping his lips.
“You okay, darling?” He asks, smiling down at you.
“I’m better than okay,” You respond teasingly, raising your eyebrows at him and tilting your head slightly to give him a quick kiss on the lips.
“Come here,” he grins, patting his lap and you don’t hesitate to follow his request, sitting gently on his thighs as he’s layed down, his hands instinctively resting on your hips.
“Gorgeous,” he mutters, looking you up and down. You can’t help but cup his face in your hands, admiring his sheer beauty.
“Do we have any plans tonight?” You ask, absentmindedly playing with his hair.
“Why?” He smirks, and you realise the way in which he’s taken what you said. “Was last night not enough for you?”
“Shut up,” You say, cheeks flushing slightly, even though you know you have no reason to be embarrassed in front of him. “Last night was amazing. But I’m not talking about that, I was just wondering if I should cook us a nice dinner.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that, baby,” he smiles, looking you up and down yet again, drawing patterns on your hips and thighs with his fingers. “We’ll order pizza, or something.”
“My cooking not good enough for you?” You joke, shaking your head at him.
“No, that’s not it,” He bites his lip mischievously and you wish you knew what he was thinking. “It’s just that you’re not going to be able to be stood in the kitchen cooking after this.”
“After wha-” You’re cut off when he flips you over onto the mattress in a split second so that your body is now pressed beneath him.
“Alex!” You laugh in shock as he peppers small kisses across your neck and collarbone. Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you pull him up so his lips meet yours in a sweet, passionate kiss, unable to help the quiet moan that falls off your tongue when his length briefly presses between your legs, through your underwear.
Wordlessly, he reaches for the bottom of your shirt, but he doesn’t need to speak. Arching your back upwards and lifting your arms, you allow him to remove your top, fully exposing the top half of your body to him.
He wastes no time in moving his kisses downwards to your chest, palming one breast and attending to the other with his lips, hungrily sucking on and circling your nipple with his tongue. He spends time worshipping your body, moving his mouth to your other breast when he sees fit, then gradually trailing his kisses down your stomach and closer to where you need him most, fully aware of how desperate you are for him.
“Please, Alex,” You lift your head up to look at him, grateful for the time he is spending on you, but needing some kind of relief.
“Relax,” he reassures you, and you immediately lay your head back down on the pillow, trusting him because he knows exactly how your body works, better than yourself even. “That’s it. Good girl.”
He reaches your thighs and traces his tongue upwards, along the inside of them, causing your hips to subconsciously lift off the bed, aching for more. He pushes you back down, keeping his hands firmly on your hips and you squirm as he runs his tongue through your folds.
“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, his teeth grazing over his bottom lip. “I’m going to make you feel so good, doll.” You had no doubt he would.
He begins to press small, wet kisses to your clit, before circling it with his tongue. Constantly switching up his movements, he effortlessly builds you up. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open, but force them to so that you can look at the beautiful man in between your legs. The eye contact you’d make when he looks up for your approval. The way his stubble would ever so slightly brush against your inner thigh. How his nose would make the slightest contact with your clit as he switches up his position. It’s all overwhelming.
Soon enough, he’s brought you to the edge, and all it takes is one flick of his tongue to send you over, repeating his name over and over, showing your gratitude through the only words you can manage at that point in time.
He moves one of his hands to grip yours through your orgasm, easing you through by carrying on his movements, only much slower and softer.
Once you’ve come down, Alex speaks, barely giving you time to process what just happened. “I’m getting you there again, darling.”
Before you have time to respond, his tongue makes contact with your clit again, causing you to gasp.
He gently pushes your thighs apart, spreading your legs open further. As he starts sucking on your clit, his hands creep up your body, reaching your waist and holding you in place firmly as you start to writhe slightly under him.
"Remember, doll. You need to relax." He whispers. Easier said than done when you have this man attending to you.
But you try your best, revelling in the euphoric feeling flooding through your veins again, building you up even faster this time. He speeds up his movements and your hands automatically shoot down to cling onto his hair as he hits the exact right spot with the exact right movement.
"Right there," you moan and he chuckles, repeating the movement again. "Fuck!"
You can’t help but wrap your legs around his head, the pleasure shooting up your legs indescribable. In response Alex moans slightly, his mouth still pressed up against your heat, sending vibrations.
You feel one of his hands leaving your hips, missing the warmth of his palm pressed against your bare skin, but you don’t have time to fully miss it before, without warning, his finger slips inside you, and you immediately clench around him, needy for more.
Sensing your need, he adds another finger, pumping in and out slowly while simultaneously stimulating you with his tongue. Your hips buck up and you try to grind against his fingers, but he presses you back down and moves at his own pace, only gradually increasing the speed of his fingers.
He has you on the very edge and he is fully aware of that fact. As he slowly moves his fingers faster, he keeps the movements of his tongue in sync with this speed. Unable to form any coherent thought or speech, your mind is hazy and clouded with lust, moans the only sound you’re able to make.
His fingers reach a certain spot, hitting it over and over while his lips close around your clit. It takes one final push of his fingers and flick of his tongue and you’re gone, explosions behind your eyes and your whole body unable to move, except for your legs which were squeezing tightly around Alex’s head.
You lay back, eyes closed for a period of time that you’re unsure of. But once your head starts to clear, you open your eyes and look down to the end of the bed where Alex was just waiting for you to come back down, doing nothing but taking you in. He enjoyed watching you like this. Liked being the reason that you were dripping down your legs, hair dishevelled, unable to speak.
“You’re beautiful,” he sighs, making his way back directly above your face, licking his lips as he does so, purposefully waiting so that you could see your wetness on his lips. “And you’re all mine.” He teases, cupping your face and kissing you, not giving you time to speak.
“You’re amazing, Al,” you say breathlessly once he pulls away, still recovering.
“I’m not done yet,” he smirks, tucking your hair back. He shifts slightly and you feel his erection press up against you, gasping at the slight pressure against your clit.
Not willing to wait any longer, you reach your hand into his boxers and palm his length and he bucks into your touch, groaning. He’s painfully hard, the sight of you as he ate you out too much.
You pull him out of his boxers and continue your hand movements, satisfied with the way his eyes flutter shut and he sighs with relief.
"Need to be inside you, baby," he mutters, replacing your hand with his, so he can promptly line himself up at your entrance.
Without hesitation, he pushes inside you fully and holds himself there momentarily, adjusting to the way you so blissfully clench around him. No matter how many times you and Alex do this, the feeling never fails to be overwhelming.
Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back, lifting your hips up so he can get deeper and cling onto his back with your arms, scratching his skin with your nails ever so slightly. He starts moving in and out slowly, letting you get used to the feeling.
His lips make his way back to yours in a passionate kiss as he gently fucks you, showing all of his adoration for you. Arms shaking slightly, you find his hands again which are placed next to your head and intertwine your fingers with his, both of your hands feeling slightly clammy.
"You feel incredible, darling," he pants, briefly breaking the kiss.
His movements speed up gradually, but are still gentle and loving, getting you closer and closer every second.
The way he looks at you so lovingly, gasping each time he pushes himself inside you makes you feel like the luckiest woman alive. To have all his affection focused on you. His immaculate knowledge of your body.
"I'm so close, Al," you whimper. Already.
"I know, let go for me," he says, giving a final push.
And you do, squeezing your eyes shut and crying his names, bodies pressed together. Pure pleasure jolts through you, saying his name like a prayer.
He stops moving inside you briefly, letting go of your hand to move your hair out of your face.
"God, I love you unbelievable amounts," he declares and before you can reply, he suddenly starts moving inside you again, faster than the last time.
He hisses, his features screwing up slightly at the feeling of you clenching around him again.
"Please don't stop," you beg, wishing this feeling could last forever.
"I'm not going to, love." He reassures you, trailing off into a moan as his movements get much more vigorous. Often times he liked to tease you, but this was not one of them times. He knew what you needed and was set on giving it to you.
All you can do is grab onto his hair, which by now is damp from sweat, moaning and panting underneath him.
"You're so wet for me," Alex groans. The obscene noises of him moving in and out of your wetness only fuelling you, bringing to closer yet again.
"Harder," you whisper, unable to string together a full sentence.
He chuckles, following your command and hitting the perfect spot over and over and over, becoming overwhelming.
Your hips slam together and the both of your moans grow increasingly louder, filling the room, sure your neighbours must be able to hear exactly what you're doing.
Your eyes keep fluttering shut but you force them opening, wanting to keep them on the beautiful sight above you. Hair hanging over his eyes, cheeks flushed, biting his lips. He truly was beautiful and you wanted nothing more than to let him know. Barely able to speak, however, you can't use words, so instead press your lips to his softly.
You moan into each other's mouths, the kiss soon becoming messy and rough as Alex continually pounds into you. He moves his kisses from your mouth to your jawline to your neck, where he sucks and bites, leaving a mark.
That sensation tips you over the edge, already built up so much. Without warning, you release around him as he continues moving at the same pace.
"Alex!" You cry out, contracting around him. This triggers his release and you feel him cum inside you as he sings your praises.
Gradually, his movements slow down as he fucks you through the both of your orgasms, and then pulls out and collapses next to you.
Automatically, you snuggle up next to him, despite the fact that your lower body feels like jelly.
You kiss his cheek, unable to keep your hands off him. Everything about this man is perfect.
"I've done a good job then," he says, a lopsided grin plastered on his face.
"I'm all sleepy again, now," you giggle and he squeezes your butt playfully.
"You always do a good job and you know that," I laugh. "You amaze me."
You've never felt happier than all these times that Alex holds you in his arms, and wish you could express how much he truly means to you in words.
"I love you so much," you sigh, happily, staring up into his big brown eyes.
"I love you too, darling," he smiles contentedly, holding your face in his hand and stroking his thumb over your mouth. "So, so much."
Contains content suitable for those above 18 years of age. Minors do not continue!
Summary: you work at a strip club and one of the customers catches your eye, despite his cockiness.
Warnings (18+): swearing (obvs), rough sex (p in v), oral sex (blowjob), degradation, light sub/dom, spanking, just general rough sex
Edit: this is not one of my favourite fics I've ever written. I considered taking it down but I decided not to because I figured people might enjoy it :)
It's a Saturday night, and you must have been dancing for 2 hours straight at the strip club you work at. Normally when you're performing, your mind takes you off to a completely different place, daydreaming as neon lights and clammy air surrounds you, but tonight was different. Your attention had been completely captivated by the man sat across the other side of the room, none other than Alex Turner. And unless you were mistaken, he had his eye on you too.
For what must have been the millionth time that night, you accidentally made eye contact with the beautiful man as you worked the pole in nothing but a skimpy bralette and thong. If somehow before he hadn't noticed your staring, he definitely had now. Of course, he'll be used to girls staring him down, but you'd rather not be grouped in with them.
Gaining sudden confidence, you work your way over to him. No words are exchanged, but he gladly welcomes you onto his lap and you dance ever so slightly. Even with this confidence, you're at a loss for words, star struck having a man this attractive underneath you, so thankfully he speaks first.
"Struggling to keep your eyes to yourself, love?" He scoffs, drinking you in with his eyes, planting his hands firmly on your hips with a smirk forming on his lips.
But again, you're speechless and find no way to respond other than grinding softly into his lap.
"No need to be shy." He says bluntly. "Been a pretty shit night to be honest, you're the best bird in here."
You smile, unable to thank him for the compliment, even if it's not the best compliment, due to the lump forming in your throat. Although maybe it's a good job given what he says next.
"Don't let that get to your head," he chuckles, gesturing to the women up on stage. "This is what you're up against. Not the best bunch."
What a dick, you think. An attractive one, though. All the girls who work here are beautiful, a lot of them are the closest friends you have.
He looks you up and down again, but not in a sense that he's checking you out. It's more that he wants to see what he's dealing with.
"What's your name?" He asks.
You tell him and he laughs impatiently.
"So you do speak," he runs his hands up your side. "I'm Alex."
"Are you normally this blunt, Alex?" You ask, biting your lip nervously. It's not a usual occurrence for you to feel this way. Generally you're left unaffected by the men who come in and out of the strip club, viewing it only as a job, but now the lines between work and pleasure are blurring. Normally you wouldn't even get this close to them, making sure they keep their hands off, but you couldn't help yourself.
"Yeah. Well, sometimes you need to be forward. You don't get what you want if you don't ask." He says, sounding kind of bored, but you're determined to keep him interested.
You grind against him harder, satisfied with the small groan he struggles to conceal, leaning forwards slightly to put your breasts in his line of vision.
"And what is it you want?" You reply, flirtatious yet also genuinely curious.
He looks you dead in the eye. "I want a lot of things."
"You'll have to be more specific." You tease, slowly gaining more confidence.
"Whatever you say, love." He leans closer to you, making your heart race. "What I want, is a good fuck. Think you could do that for me?"
You're taken aback with his straightforwardness. Of course, you'd be a fool to turn him down, but you're still speechless.
"I've not got all night. If we're not on the same page that's fine, I'll just choose someone else."
"No!" You say panicked, and immediately regret it when he laughs at how desperate you are. "It's just...I'm not supposed to do that sort of thing."
"That sort of thing?" He repeats, tilting his head at you as you continue moving up against him.
"Sleeping with people who come here. I mean, I'm a stripper, not a prostitute." You chuckle awkwardly.
"If you don't want money to be involved it doesn't have to be." He states. "We clearly both want this regardless."
He looks down at your hips grinding against his, you doing all the work, to indicate that he's right. To prove his point.
Lightly tracing his lips along your neck, he whispers in your ear, "Unless that's the kind of thing you like. Y'know..." He lowers his voice further, sending shivers down your spine. "Being bought."
His filthy words were turning you on beyond belief, and you subconsciously press down harder on him, desperate for some kind of friction, and this doesn't go unnoticed by him.
"Like I said, love, I don't have all night," he sighs. "Now are you going to be a good girl and do what I want?"
You nod, climbing off his lap reluctantly. "There are private rooms in here. We can use one of them." He silently agrees and you take his hand to lead him there, his other hand planted firmly on the small of your back, giving him some amount of control.
Once you get into the room, you lock the door behind you and Alex sits down on a leather sofa, making himself comfortable.
"On your knees then, doll." He says flatly, nodding to the floor.
He doesn't have to ask you twice. As the cold floor presses against your knees, you unzip his pants and waste no time in pulling his erection out, gasping at the size of him.
He sighs impatiently and you take that as enough of a command to take him into your mouth. You take him all the way to the back of your throat, not wanting to risk teasing him, seeing he was clearly not in the mood for it. Tears already prick in the corner of your eyes, but it's worth it for the quiet groan that Alex lets out.
"Mmm, that's it, darling. You look good down there." His hand instinctively wraps itself in your hair to hold your head in place, taking some control. You come up for a quick breath, palming him with your hands as you do so, but he pushes you back down almost straight away. "Did I say you could fucking stop?"
Unable to reply, you just moan around his cock, sending vibrations, which he seems to like. You swirl your tongue around him, looking up at him, but he looks unimpressed.
"You're going to have to relax your throat, love. Open nice and wide for me." His hips buck, forcing himself further down your throat, and you almost gag at the feeling, trying to do as he told you.
"There we go...," He trails off into a groan. "Good girl." Them two simple words send a rush of wetness to your core. You're already pressing your legs together needily, the sight of Alex in this way, and the feeling of him in your mouth overwhelming.
"Y'know what, I think I'll just-" he keeps the one hand on the back of your head and puts the other on your throat, just under your chin, so now he can completely control your movements. "Stay like that and I'll fuck your mouth, doll." You can't help the moan that slips from your lips, muffled since your mouth is full.
He begins moving his hips up and down, and you close your lips around him tightly, attempting you use your last bit of control to bring him closer. The thought of being used by him like that is overpowering, combined with his obscene moans and profanities, and you can't help but slip your hand into your underwear to tend to the building ache. Alex notices straight away.
"No," he says. "You don't get to touch yourself. Just stay where you are and get me off." His blunt words annoy you as much as they turn you on, but nevertheless, you use all your restraint to pull your hand away.
However, it's mere seconds before you realised your hand is back down, rubbing your clit. It's too much. You're gagging and drooling around his cock and you need some sort of relief. Again, Alex notices immediately, and pulls out of your mouth.
"Fucking hell," he snaps. "You were taking that like such a good girl too, but I told you not to touch yourself. This isn't fucking about you."
"I'm sorry," You whimper, reaching for his cock, sure that however irritated he is at you, you've both gone too far for him to leave now. He's so close to the edge and needs this as much as you do.
But when he tucks himself back into his pants and zips his trousers up, you fear you assumed that too soon and panic drops in your stomach.
He stands up, but before you can object, he speaks. "Get up. Now." Sensing the tone in his voice, you follow his order without hesitation. "Bend over the couch."
You bend over the arm of the sofa, relieved that he is in fact not done with you. Without warning, his hand comes down harshly on your ass.
"Fuck," you gasp, taken aback, pleasure coursing through your veins.
Another harsh slap comes down on your other cheek, jolting you forward, creating friction between the sofa and your clit, only making you more certain that he could bring you to orgasm solely by spanking you.
"Mm, you're not meant to enjoy the punishment." You could hear the smug grin in his voice. "Fucking dirty girl, aren't you?"
You moan as he pushes the thin fabric of your thong out of the way and his fingers make contact with your clit briefly, before running through your folds.
"Fuck, you're so wet." His words come out almost as a groan. "Is that how much you like being used?"
He rubs your clit harshly, then all of a sudden, he removes his fingers and you miss the feeling of them, the contrast unbearable. But, in the space of a few seconds, you feel them again as he spanks your clit hard. The feeling is overwhelming, and your legs almost collapse, euphoria spreading through your body.
"Fuck! Oh! Alex..." It was so unexpected, and it only took that simple action to tip you over the edge. He had built you up so quickly and effortlessly.
"Maybe I were a bit harsh on you earlier, love." He chuckles. "Didn't think you'd be so dirty. Reckon you'll be a good fuck after all."
He grabs your hair again and pulls you up off of the couch. "Take these off," he demands, pointing to your underwear. "Then lay down."
Only just coming down from your orgasm, your legs are trembling slightly. You remove your clothes and stumble onto the sofa, laying on your back, propping yourself up on your elbow and looking up at him with wide eyes.
"Fucking stunning." He mutters. The image in your mind of you being naked and vulnerable, and him being fully clothed while he stands and admires you turns you on beyond belief. "Do you promise to be good for me this time, doll?"
"Yes," You whimper, desperate to please him, as he takes off his jacket. "I promise. Please, Alex..."
"Please, what, love?" He chuckles. "You're going to have to be more specific." He uses your own words against you.
"Please...please fuck me." All of your self respect flew out of the window the second this man set his hands on you, you didn't care how needy you came across. You wanted him so badly. Needed him.
"That's all you had to say," he smirks. "You lay back and relax, darling. Let me fuck you good, while you just lay there and take it."
Remembering how it turned out last time, you use every last bit of your self control not to touch yourself, but you can't help the shaky breaths and moans that escape your lips.
"Mm, I knew you'd like the sound of that," he grins. "Being used like a little slut."
"Please." You whine.
"Look how needy you are," he scoffs.
You were needy. Undeniably needy, and his words were doing nothing to help.
Still clothed, he unzips his pants and pulls out his cock, tugging himself, already painfully hard having being left on edge. He gets on top of you and lines himself up at your entrance.
"If we're going to do this, you have to do everything I tell you." He states.
"Yes. Anything." You promise, saying what he wants you to, desperate for him to fill you up.
"You can't cum until I tell you, okay?" He asks, but it's more of a demand than a question. "No begging either. You do nothing, say nothing. Just let me have my way, and you'd better be fucking grateful for it too. Understand?"
You nod, wanting to show him that you can follow his orders and be quiet.
"Good girl, getting the hang of it already." He smirks, pushing all the way into you with no warning. You moan loudly, refraining from letting a string of profanities escape your mouth, knowing that wouldn't go down well with Alex.
"Oh fuck...you're so wet for me." He groans, already pumping in and out of you mercilessly, unable to control himself. "So tight."
He grabs your thighs and guides your legs around his back, then proceeds to grab your wrists and pin them above your head so that you're completely at his mercy and he can use you however he likes.
Fucking you relentlessly, he brings you closer and closer to the edge. Every time you think he can't go any harder, he does, building you up.
Left breathless, you're sure that even if you wanted, you wouldn't be able to speak. It's all becoming too much, and you're scared of releasing without permission, Alex's obscene moans fuelling you.
You look up at Alex, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open so that you can appreciate the beauty of the man above you. His hair hangs over his face and his lip is caught in between his teeth, muffling his groans.
"Mm, fucking- that's it." He praises you, looking you in the eyes, then lowering his gaze to your breasts. "You're fucking stunning, doll. Beautiful."
You're not sure how much longer you can hold on, and you can't help the plea that fall off your tongue. "Please...I need to-"
You're cut off when one of his hands wraps itself around your neck, gripping tightly, causing you to gasp.
"I told you to be fucking quiet." Alex hisses. "And I were really beginning to think that you were doing a good job."
Having him talk down to you like this while still roughly fucking you is too much, tipping you over the edge. You can't control yourself any longer, and one particularly hard thrust leaves you crying Alex's name as pleasure jolts through you and you cum around him as he blissfully stretches you out. Before you have time to even process what happened, he pulls out of you and stands up.
"I'm sorry," you pant, tears streaming down your face, your make up most definitely ruined.
"I don't care." He snaps. "You can't even follow two simple orders."
Rubbing his hands together, a crease forms on his brow. He's clearly in deep thought as he looks at you, but after mere seconds, he speaks again.
"Turn around." He gesture. "Get on all fours."
He doesn't have to tell you twice. You follow his command, your legs feeling weak, like they can barely hold you up.
He comes up behind you and within mere moments is inside you again, picking up his pace almost straight away.
Just when you think he has let your mistake slip, his palm comes down onto your ass causing you to nearly lose balance.
"You're going to count five ok? Think you can do that?" He sounds impatient when he speaks, like he doubts your ability to follow instructions, so you want to prove him wrong.
"Yes," You answer, panting.
"And you'll thank me every time." He adds, and you nod in response.
Wasting no time, his hand collides with your sore skin yet again, turning you on beyond belief, the pain barely comparable to the immense amounts of pleasure you're feeling.
"One..." You gasp. "Thank you."
Another two slaps, and you thank him both times without fail. All at the same time, he's fucking you ruthlessly from behind, your legs weak, tears streaming down your face.
A fourth slap and his name falls off your tongue, trying to compose yourself. "Four...thank y-"
Before you even have chance to finish thanking him, he spanks you a final time, skin tingling and it takes all your self control to not let go right in that moment.
"Five," you whisper. "Thank you. Thank you."
He briefly strokes your hair comfortingly, contrasting to the way he is moving in and out of you.
"Good girl," you can hear the struggle to hold on in his voice, his words coming out almost as moans. "Taking your punishment so well."
He plants one hand on your hip to keep you still, and the other finds its way to your mouth, giving you two fingers to suck on.
"You're lucky I'm still fucking you. You'd better stay quiet this time," he orders, as you suck greedily on his fingers. "There we go, that's better."
Your body falls almost limp as he carries on fucking you, the only thing keeping you stable being the hand on your hip. Alex fills you perfectly and is hitting a spot from behind that he wasn't previously reaching. It's no surprise that in no time, you're close to the edge again.
"You're doing great, darling." He groans. "Taking it so well."
As opposed to using words, you respond by sucking harder on his fingers, pleased that he's now happy with you, to which he just pushes into you even harder.
"Drooling all round my fingers." He chuckles. "Making a right mess."
Unsure of how much more you can take, you clench around him, and he can clearly tell you're about to come undone.
"You can let go now, doll." He sighs, giving one last push, and your third orgasm tears through your body. You squeeze your eyes shut and cry out his name like a prayer. He holds himself deep inside you, not moving, as you recover from your orgasm.
"Thank you," you whisper, your voice now sore.
"Fuck..." he groans. "I need your mouth again."
He pulls out of you and walks around to your face. Without any more of a warning, he grabs your chin and pushes his cock past your lips, forcing it all the way to the back of your throat, and you gag slightly.
"Can you taste yourself on my cock? You were so wet." He states bluntly. "Were making it very hard for me to hold on, darling, squeezing around my cock like that. But I need to see your face when I cum, and with you drooling around my fingers like that, well..."
The filth of his words was incredibly hot, along with the way his accent got so much thicker.
"Finish me off, doll." He demands, gasping for breath when you suddenly start bobbing your head up and down, despite how drained you were feeling, surprised you could even keep yourself upright on all fours. It doesn't take much, since he was so close to coming when he was inside you. All it takes is one last squeeze of your lips around him and his hips buck, pushing deep inside your mouth.
"Fuck," he groans, spilling his hot release, which trickles down your throat and you swallow it all, looking him in the eyes the whole time as his face screws up in pleasure. "Good girl." His hand is gripping your hair, just needing something to hold on to, then pulls out of your mouth.
You're about to relax back onto the sofa when he makes yet another demand. Nevertheless, you're keen to do anything he asks of you if it satisfies him. "Clean me up." He says, nodding down and you see some of his release trickling down his length still. You don't hesitate to run your tongue up the side of his cock, licking up every last bit, proud that you're the one who caused him to cum. Once you're done, he zips his pants back up, and lifts your chin up to look at him, running his thumb over your swollen lips.
"You look like a bit of a mess, if I'm being honest." He scoffs, and you can only imagine what your hair and make up must have looked like. "You'd better get yourself cleaned up before you go back out there...unless you want everyone to know what we were doing?"
He raises his eyebrow at me and grins smugly. "Want everyone to know that you've just been used like a slut. It wouldn't surprise me, doll."
Even though you're left more than fully satisfied, his words do inexplicable things to you.
"Alex..." is all you can manage to whimper pathetically, but he ignores you and heads for the door.
"Thanks for the shag, darling," he laughs, unlocking and opening the door. He looks the complete opposite to what you must: fully clothed and not a hair out of place. "Were better than I expected, actually."
And with that, he's gone. Leaving you to process what the hell just happened.
Contains content suitable for those above 18 years of age. Minors do not continue!
Summary: you've been friends with Alex for a while, when eventually something in the atmosphere changes.
Warnings (18+): smut, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), swearing (the usual lol), cheating, slight degradation
After a long, stressful day of working, then coming home only to argue with your boyfriend over the phone, you finally collapse back onto your sofa with a glass of white wine. Still adjusting to the hot weather of LA, you decided to just relax in your grey gym shorts and a black, strappy top. Before you can even take a full mouthful of your wine, though, your door bell rings. You curse under your breath but don't bother standing up to answer it when you hear keys jiggling in the door.
"Hi," comes a familiar voice. It's no surprise for Alex to be here, but he somehow always manages to come at the worst time.
"Giving you the keys to my apartment was the worst decision of my life." You scoff as he makes his way into your vision, kicking his shoes off and throwing his leather jacket across the back of my sofa. He seems to think that because he’s your closest friend, he can get away with whatever he wants. "Go on, make yourself at home."
"No need for the sarcasm," He grins, mock innocence on his face. He sits on the sofa next to you, his dark hair completely slicked back, wearing a fitted white t-shirt and jeans completed with his gold chain and various rings.
You've known Alex for a couple of years now. You met through mutual friends and soon formed a love hate relationship with each other. You only started seeing each other more often when you moved to LA a few months ago, only a few minutes away from his house. You honestly don't know why you put up with him at first because he's annoying as hell, but he has this certain charm that allows him to get away with that, you guess.
"You come barging into my home with no warning, the least you can expect is to be hit with a little sarcasm. You're a big boy, you can deal with it."
He chuckles. "Someone is not happy today. Sam?"
You shoot him a look and roll your eyes. "I'm not talking about Sam."
"Oh come on, don't give me that shit. Talk to me about it. I probably know more than you think I do about it." He tries he convince you.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm just saying I could give some good relationship advice."
"Can you wait until you're in my house for at least two minutes until you start giving me lectures?" You laugh disapprovingly. "Plus, I can't wait to hear this, I think your area of expertise may be more on one night stands."
He fakes a dramatic gunshot to the heart, but he knows you're only joking with him.
"Well, that might be good in this case." He replies. "You and Sam...how is the...y'know?"
You sit up straight and he laughs at you.
"The sex?" You exclaim.
"Yes. Or more the lack of if I had to guess." You hear him mutter.
"Alex!" You gasp. "I'm not talking about my sex life with you."
"Why not? You tell me everything else. Anyway, there are many inferences I'm sure I can make if you don't want to talk."
You stare at him in shock. "Oh yeah? Like what exactly?"
"The fact that Sam never stays over here for more than, like, an hour at a time, for one." He raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for a response.
You can feel colour creeping into your cheeks. "Okay. That means nothing. Plenty can be done in an hour."
"Come on," He scoffs. "I know that full hour is not being used. I can tell the kind of guy Sam is, in and out, over in five minutes."
"Alex!" You swat him on the arm and try to stay serious, but can't help laughing at the statement.
"So it's true?" He grins triumphantly, but he doesn't wait for your answer. Lowering his voice and edging closer to you he whispers, "Also, the vibrator in the bathroom. I have a feeling that may be an attempt for you to make up for what Sam is lacking."
He bites his lip as he anticipates your response, and smooths his hair down. You're too busy trying not to maintain eye contact that it takes you a moment to realise that you're blatantly staring at his mouth, the way his tongue wets his lips, and his teeth graze them.
By this point, you just know your cheeks are crimson, and you stand up. "I'm done with this conversation. Keep your creepy observations to yourself. It's perfectly normal. And Sam is just a dick in general. There's plenty of problems beyond our sex," you blurt, "the fact that he's sleeping with a girl from his office, for one."
"What? Why the fuck are you still with him?" He asks, defensively.
"One of my close friends works with them, caught them in his office without them even noticing. She's seen them sneaking about since. It's gone on for months." You sigh. "And I've wanted to break up with him so many times but I never have the guts to follow through and confront him about it."
"Shit," he whispers.
“Shit indeed.”
You walk across to the open plan kitchen to the fridge, just wanting an excuse to have a bit of space for a brief moment. You and Alex have a very open relationship, but him picking up on your vibrator is a whole other level of embarrassment. Especially when you've thought about him while using it many a time. He has no way of knowing that though. And he probably thinks you’re pathetic for not breaking up with your cheating boyfriend but it’s not as easy as you wish it was.
"Do you want a drink?" You ask.
"Lager, please." He replies in a non-chalant tone but the smirk is still there, clearly thinking about the vibrator aspect of the conversation again.
You grab a lager out of the fridge and take it back over to him, sitting down again now that you've had time to let the colour fade from your cheeks.
"Thanks," He smiles, taking it from your hand. You can't help but notice the rings on his fingers, and the way that his grip on the bottle makes his arms and hands flex.
Once you sit down next to him again, you start rolling yourself a cigarette, desperately needing one.
"I don't know how you smoke that shit," He teases, nodding to your pouch of tobacco as he pulls his own cigarette out of a packet.
"Come on!" You nudge him gently in the ribs with your elbow. "Just because you're all famous and living in LA don't pretend you never used to smoke roll ups."
"Yeah," he rolls his eyes dramatically. "When I was 18."
"Well, I like it. I'm not changing for you." You laugh.
"Whatever. Just don't blow your shitty smoke anywhere near me." Shaking his head jokingly, he lights his cigarette before passing you the lighter. You inhale deeply and the first thing you do is blow the smoke straight towards Alex.
"Dickhead!" He laughs, holding one hand on your shoulder to push you back.
Giggling, you try to writhe out of his grip by spinning around slightly so that your back is against the arm of the settee, and you pull your legs up onto the sofa to try and create a barrier. As soon as Alex notices your technique, he playfully pulls your legs so that you're no longer resting against the arm, and are laying flat on your back.
"Alex!" You squirm, laughing. "Let me get up!"
You attempt to pull yourself up by wrapping your arms around him, but you just end up bringing him closer down to you and without realising it, he's on top of you. Something in the atmosphere immediately switches and in that moment you both stop laughing.
Instinctively, you put your cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, and he does the same, neither of you looking away from each other.
His face is merely inches from yours, the smell of beer and smoke on his breath intoxicating. His hair is now far from all being slicked back, and bits are flopping down over his face. His eyes bore into you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and you can't stop your eyes from flickering up and down to look at his lips.
"Don't," he whispers. "Don't look at me like that."
You bite your lip and look into his eyes. "Look at you like wh-"
He cuts you off when his lips come crashing down on yours, and you immediately kiss him back. You wrap your legs around him to pull him closer and run your hands through his hair. One of his hands is placed loosely around your neck, applying the slightest pressure, and the other planted on your hip to hold you in place.
You've imagined Alex in this way before but never thought anything of it. Never began to imagine that someone like him would be remotely attracted to you, and you wonder where the hell this has come from. In the years that you’ve known each other, Alex has never shown the slightest interest in you sexually.
The hand on your hip works its way up and palms your breasts over your top while you subconsciously begin to grind against him, the tension created by the friction of his bulge through his jeans becoming unbearable.
He clearly notices your grinding and sits up with you still holding onto him, so that you can grind into his lap, not once breaking the kiss. He grips your hips firmly and guides them into the right spots as you force small groans out of him. Within no time heat pools to your core and you can feel yourself soaking through your underwear and thin shorts. You automatically lift your arms up as he takes your top off, and he does the same as you return the favour, running your hands over his warm, toned chest.
Feeling him growing harder underneath you, you eventually break the kiss, but only to move your kisses down to his jawline and neck. Without needing to be told, you climb off his lap and get on your knees in front of Alex, reaching to undo the zip on his pants. But before you can, he stops you.
"No." He says, and you look up at him confused for a moment. "Get back up here." He pats his lap and you do as you're told, gasping as you feel his bulge rub up against you again. "You get to relax, and I'm going to make sure you get treated exactly as you deserve."
He stands up and lifts you with him, hands squeezing your ass tightly. As he carries you into your bedroom, you shift teasingly against him.
"Fuck," he gasps and you giggle as he playfully swats your ass.
"You'd better be careful teasing me like that when I could easily leave you here, a soaking, horny mess." Alex whispers in your ear, his lips lightly tracing your neck and giving you goose bumps. "You don't want that, do you?"
"No," You croak, the feeling between your legs building intensely.
"Good," He smirks. "Behave then."
Once you reach the bed, he gently places you down and gets on top of you, taking no time to plant kisses on your neck, moving down to your collarbone, and then your chest. Lifting your back off the bed slightly, you allow him to undo your bra and toss it onto the floor, now giving him full access to explore your breasts with his mouth.
Gradually, his kisses move downwards, until his tongue is tracing the inside of your thigh. Slowly, he removes your shorts and underwear at the same time, and gently nudges your legs open further. As his tongue gets closer to where you need it, you run your hands through his hair, pulling gently on it in anticipation, his nose brushing against your clit ever so slightly, causing you to gasp.
All of a sudden, you feel his lips on you, sucking your clit, taking you by surprise. You let out a loud moan and wrap your legs around his head, the feeling of needing to close your legs surging through your body. Immense amounts of pleasure jolt through you as his hands firmly hold your hips down.
Seeing the way that every so often he lifts his eyes up for your approval, making sure that he is doing everything you want, drives you crazy. And he is. Never in your life had someone made you feel so good by doing so little in this amount of time. Your eyes keep fluttering shut but you force them to stay open so you can watch Alex's beautiful face, and the things he is doing to you.
He alternates his movements, circling your clit with his tongue, then sucking and leaving open mouthed kisses on it, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, not needing to use his hands. The feeling of his warm mouth on you was surreal, your whole body almost paralysed as you grip his hair, an instinctive response to keep him doing what he's doing.
"Fuck, please...God, Alex, I'm so close," You felt that you should be embarrassed by how quick he got you to that point, but you were so absorbed in pleasure, so absorbed in the fact that it was Alex of all people causing this pleasure, that was at the back of your mind.
In response, he hums, sending vibrations through you and tipping you over the edge.
Your legs squeeze tighter as his name falls off your tongue like a prayer, and explosions shoot through your body, making you jolt further back into the mattress.
As you lay back and catch your breath, he uses his tongue to clean up your mess and such a simple action already has your tension building back up.
"Oh my god, Alex, that was..." You can't even find words to describe how it felt.
"You deserve to feel good," he says, moving back up the bed so that he is now directly above you.
You let out a small breathless chuckle. "I think good is an understatement."
Looking directly into your eyes, he moves your hair out of your face and licks his lips. "You're gorgeous." He strokes your cheek, his cold ring creating a perfect contrast with his warm hands, a look flickering across his eyes, that you immediately recognise as mischief.
"What?" You ask, unable to hold back a smile as you look up at the perfect man above you.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard," He grins coyly.
Unable to muster up words, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.
"I'm going to make you scream my name so loud that your neighbours know exactly how badly I'm fucking you up. Everyone will know it’s me who knows what you want, not that bastard." He smirks, tracing his thumb over your lips.
It should feel wrong doing this when Sam is at home on his own, clueless, but the truth is it doesn’t. He practically ended things on the phone earlier, but besides that, you find it hard to have sympathy for such a nasty man. And even though two wrongs don’t make a right, it feels hard to believe that taking up the opportunity to sleep with Alex could ever be the wrong decision.
"Please," you whimper, not knowing how to convey your emotions in any other way.
"I'm going to treat you exactly how you deserve, doll."
You reach down to undo his trousers but he grabs your hands and pins them above your head.
"Not so fast," he chuckles, using his free hand to play mindlessly with your nipples.
All of a sudden, he lifts himself off the bed and you miss his presence instantly. You try to sit up but soon realise your legs have practically turned to jelly. Alex notices, and doesn't let it go unspoken.
"Just imagine how your legs are going to feel after I'm done with you." You can't help but blush at the remark.
Rather than asking what he's doing, you wait and watch him, soon realising that he's taking his jeans off to reveal his tight fitting boxers. Your mouth goes dry when you see his erection through the thin, grey fabric. You can't pull your eyes away, but he doesn't seem fazed and merely stops to admire you for a moment.
"You're so fucking beautiful." He sighs happily. "Why didn't we do this sooner?"
Processing his statement, you bite your lip. You notice a quick flash of panic in his eyes, regret almost.
“I don’t mean that our whole friendship was just me trying-”
“I know, Alex.” You give him a small smile of reassurance which he seems happy with, before risking asking your own question.
"Have you thought about it before?" You wait for him to respond, looking at him through your lashes. At first he doesn't answer. He gets back on top of you and kisses you passionately, his bulge pressing against you teasingly, but then he pulls away leaving you short of breath.
"Look at you, doll. I don't think I could spend as much time around you as I do and not think about you in that way a couple of times." He smiles at you, but the look in his eyes is indecipherable.
"A couple times?" You look up at him with wide eyes and he cups your face in his hands.
"Well, a lot more than a couple of times." He admits, almost sheepishly, but never breaking eye contact. The thought of that is overwhelming to you, and you can't help but look away as you feel your cheeks growing in colour. But Alex turns your face, forcing you to look back at him.
"Why?" He asks smugly. "Does that turn you on?"
You chew your lip apprehensively. The truth is that the image of him thinking about you, laying in his bed, or in the shower turns you on to an unfamiliar degree.
You nod shyly. "Do you- what-" Spluttering, you can barely get your words out. "What do you think about when you...think of me?"
"Lots of things but..." The smile on his face grows. "How about I show you, darling."
Before you can respond, he kisses you again, hot and desperate, palming your breasts and forcing breathy moans out of you. Again, however, he gets off of you, leaving you longing for his touch once more.
"Alex," You whisper, looking up at him as he gets off the bed.
"Come here, love." He stands at the end of the bed and pats the part of it in front of him, telling you to move down to him. "Bend over for me."
All it takes is that simple, blunt command for wetness to rush in between your legs. You immediately do as he says, and lift your ass up in the air, on all fours.
"Beautiful," he sighs, gripping your hip with one hand. The other hand, lines himself up at your entrance, taking you by surprise.
"Please," you beg pathetically as he rubs his tip through your folds teasingly.
"Look how desperate you are," he chuckles, briefly letting go of your hip to slap your ass gently, only making you more needy.
"Alex, please. I need-" You're cut off when he pushes himself all the way in, all of a sudden, the feeling of being completely empty to suddenly being filled by him, causing tears to form in the corners of your eyes.
"Is that what you need?" He teases, starting to move in and out.
"Fuck...yes," you pant.
It doesn't take him long to speed up the pace, ruthlessly fucking you from behind, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing harshly. He'd given up on the idea of teasing and was now solely focused on making sure you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow.
"Fuck," he groaned. "You feel so good."
Both his hands were on your hips now, to keep you stable as he sped up the pace even more. You gripped the bed sheets in your fists, the only thing you were capable of doing, completely at his mercy. He used his grip on your hips to pull you back as he pushed forwards, making his movements so much more forceful, and hitting the perfect spot.
"Oh god...right there," you moan, eyes falling shut and your whole body becoming weak, just letting Alex take care of you and have his way with you.
"Here?" He chuckles, pulling out almost fully and slamming all the way back in, hitting the right spot even harder.
"Fuck!" You can't muffle your obscene noises, but don't care at this point. The pleasure he is causing you is the complete and sole centre of your attention. "I'm close."
He keeps a fast, hard, but steady pace, moving one hand off your hip to go back to working your clit, rubbing mercilessly.
"I'm gonna-" You can't even finish a whole sentence as he pounds into you.
"Let go for me," he prompts and as his fingers flick your clit one last time, and you do, yelling his name. "That's it, love."
He slows down his movements as he gently fucks you through your orgasm, but as soon as you come down, he wastes no time in flipping you over again so that you're on your back, and getting on top of you.
"Alex," you chuckle, but before you can say any more, he pushes his cock in between your legs again, picking up that same pace as before.
"Have you thought about me before, darling?" He asks breathlessly, going back to the previous conversation. However you're not currently in the greatest condition to have a full conversation.
"Y-yes," you pant. He groans in satisfaction at your response, delivering a particularly hard thrust.
"Tell me what you thought about," he demands.
"I-I...fuck!" You whimper, the throbbing feeling of him inside you overwhelming, one hand squeezing your breast, the other gripping onto your ass. "I c-can't," you stutter, looking away from him.
He stops his movements, buried deep inside you, and grabs your throat turning your face to look back at him. You wrap your legs around him, grinding against him for some kind of friction, but he has you pressed so far into the mattress that it's no use.
"Tell me." He demands, looking you directly in the eyes and licking his lips.
It's hard for you to concentrate being on edge like this, but you can at least physically speak now.
"I've thought about a lot of things...b-but," you can already feel your cheeks growing scarlet under his glare. "You being rough with me. Dominant. You...using me. However you like." He groans in response and immediately starts pumping in and out of you again, taking you by surprise.
"You're a dirty little girl aren't you? I should've known," he grins smugly, and wetness rushes to your core. "Oh, you like being called that?"
You nod shyly and he chuckles. "Fuck, darling. You're going to be the end of me."
Without warning, he flips over so that you're now on top of him, and despite that, he has all the control. You grip onto the headboard for support as he grabs your hips and pulls you down to meet his harsh thrusts.
"That's it...fuck, you feel so good." He groans, clearly getting closer, and so are you.
"H-harder," you manage to beg.
He doesn't need to be told twice, the pleasure inside you building as he picks up the pace and force, hitting a spot he couldn't quite reach when he was on top.
"Oh, god...you're a fucking picture," he says, fixated on your tits bouncing in front of him.
"Alex, please...I'm so close," you whimper.
"Me too, doll. Let go for me." He says, as he moves a hand from your hip to roll your clit between his fingers and delivers one final push deep inside you.
You can't help but shout his name as you let go, your orgasm ripping through your whole body. Your walls contract around him, triggering Alex's orgasm. You feel him twitch then spill inside you, his hot release filling you, and your name falls repeatedly off his tongue, praising you.
You let go of the headboard and collapse on top of him, mid-orgasm, with him still buried deep inside you. He wraps his arms around you and holds you as you come down, stroking your hair.
Finally, you pull yourself off him and lay next to him, catching your breath.
"That was...fuck. That was amazing," he says, breathlessly.
"Wasn't too bad," you tease and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow as you lay there, panting, skin flushed, legs unable to move, and his release dripping down your thigh.
"Whatever." He laughs, and you rest your head on his shoulder, laying in silence for a few minutes, both processing what just happened.
"Do you have anywhere to be, because I was going to order pizza in tonight?" you ask.
He chuckles at your sudden change of topic. "I'm glad you're in a better mood now, you didn't seem too keen on me being here earlier. All you needed was a good fuck."
"Alex!" you gasp, but can't help laughing.
"What?" He laughs.
"I'm not letting this fuel your ego." Saying that, he has every right to let this fuel his ego. Nobody has ever made you feel that good in your life.
"Too late." He says, squeezing your ass playfully.
"I hate you," you joke, nudging him in the ribs slightly.
"I highly doubt that," he grins cockily. "Not too long ago you were begging me to fuck you harder."
"Oh my god," you laugh, exasperated. "You're a cocky shit out of bed, I should've known you'd be one in bed too."
"Don't lie to yourself, doll. You know you love it really." He smirks. "I mean, you said yourself you'd thought about me before."
You blush and he laughs.
"Oh come on, don't start acting shy now." He grins. "You're filthy. Thinking about me instead of your boyfriend while you fuck yourself with your vibrator?"
"Alex!" You roll your eyes at him in an attempt to mask your embarrassment. "Stop being a dick."
"Okay, but in all seriousness, you need to end things with Sam." He looks at you caringly. "You can do so much better. Plus..."
He looks at you and debates continuing.
“What?” You ask.
“Well, you can’t carry on seeing him either way if you’ve slept with someone else, no matter if he did it first.” He says.
You nod, unable to speak. But he's right. Maybe he's right about a lot of things. Maybe you did just need the sense fucked into you.
“I know,” you chuckle humourlessly. “I mean our relationship is practically over anyway, I just needed a wake up call, I guess.”
And it was one hell of a wake up call. It’s not that you could ever see you and Alex being more than friends - and this certainly wouldn’t ruin your friendship - but it sort of made Sam seem like nothing in comparison, and was a reminder that you really can do better.
While you’re deep in thought, you hear Alex laughing to himself and turn to look at him.
“What?”
"I was just thinking, maybe you like the thrill" And he’s back to teasing you again. "Being fucked by someone who's not your boyfriend."
"I swear to God," you laugh. "Why do I put up with you?"
"I don't know love, in all honestly." He chuckles. "But I'm glad you do."
