Negan isn't the type of man to focus on a girl, to go down on her, he just wants to get laid and get it done and over with
But Jesus H. Christ if your cunt isn't the sweetest thing he's ever tasted in his whole entire damn life. He swears it's the best damn thing he's ever felt and tasted
He isn't sure if the way you writhed, squirmed under his rough hands, the way you buck your hips into his mouth, pull and push at his head, the way you tighten around his large digits, make those pretty little whimpers n whines made it better or not
I mean you're already in your nth orgasm just cause his tongue and fingers, as he has his hand on your abdomen holding you down as his other hand is moving three fingers in and out you can't help but drool and weakly and hopelessly push his head away from overstimulation despite wanting more n more
“God, just gotta taste so sweet, don't ya?” His voice muffled as he shoves his face farther in your cunt, the vibrations of his rough voice making you more sensitive
“Mhmg-..oh my god, Negan, please–” you let out in a squeaky tiny whiney voice as he continues to lap at your folds
“Fuck, baby, wanting more, huh? Shsh, you'll get it, just be patient.. yeah, you can take more? Hm. Good girl” He mutters in your sweet slick cunt
summary: you made Negan a promise and now it's time to deliver... if you can get some time alone with him
word count: 9.5k
tags: ! NSFW ! dad's best friend trope, pre-apocalypse, cheating, blowjob, face fucking, cum eating, facials, swearing & crude language, vaginal fingering, degrading names (slut, whore), semi-public kinda public secret sexual acts in front of others? Idk how to word that one but you get the gist
you can find part 1 here!!
“Hey everybody, welcome back to my channel! Here are my top tips for giving some gluck gluck before you fuck fuck!”.
You can’t believe you’ve reached this point and yet here you are. “Shit,” you mutter to yourself, turning down the volume on your phone. The last thing you need is for one of your parents to walk past and hear that introduction.
It’s been a month. One long month since you had your romp with Negan. You were supposed to see him sooner, your parents having arranged another dinner, but the Smith’s had to cancel due to Negan having Summer exams and assessments to get through.
“Ok, first tip for when you’re slobbering on some man meat. Just because your mouth is the main focus doesn’t mean you can’t use your hands too!”.
You let the video you found online play in the background as you try to tame your hair. You have one thing on your mind tonight. The last time you saw Negan, after he gave you a fucking of a lifetime, you made him a promise. The next one of your parent’s dinner parties that he attends, you’ll suck him off. And damn right you plan on keeping that promise.
Pulling out your clothes, you dump your options on to the bed. You have to be strategic about this. Slutty but not too slutty. Modest but in a sexy secretary way, not like a nun.
“Make eye contact! And no, I don’t mean with his third eye! Guys love it when you got their… y’know… haha! …God, I hope this doesn’t get demonized but y’know, their sausage in your mouth and you look up at them”.
You cringe at the fake laughing the video is filled with. The only reason you’re watching this is to make sure you give Negan the best blowjob of his life. Where, you’re not sure yet. Under the table sounds hot but isn’t practical. Dragging him to your bedroom is way too suspicious.
The video continues as you think.
“And don’t forget, be enthusiastic! Take charge! Just because he’s the one getting off doesn’t mean he needs to have complete control… although that can be fun too. Huh, maybe I should do a video on not gagging next”.
Your attention shifts to a long-sleeved top. It doesn’t show much cleavage but it’s snug enough to stir the imagination. Pairing it with a skirt is non-negotiable. You already know a skirt is a must, especially if you want to give Negan easy access.
With a sigh, you reach over and turn off the video. Useless. The advice wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t the almighty best blowjob of his life material you were hoping for.
You glance at the outfit laid out on the bed. You slip them on, smoothing the fabric over your hips as you turn towards the mirror.
Not bad.
You had planned to try a few other looks, maybe something a little more casual in case this one didn’t feel right. But before you can assemble the second outfit, a cacophony of voices creeps under your door.
They’re here.
You freeze for a second. The moment’s no longer theoretical. Negan’s in your house… and so is his wife. Your name rings out, your mother’s voice carrying it. “Come say hi” she calls, her voice already in host mode. You take one last look in the mirror, fix a stray hair and open the door.
The hallway is buzzing with life. Negan stands near the entryway, his presence commanding but relaxed in that way only he can pull off. He barely glances your way, offering a polite nod before turning his attention back to your dad, who’s already launching into something about cars.
Lucille, on the other hand, pulls you straight into a hug the second you’re within reach. “Look at you, gorgeous! All dolled up!” she says, bracelets clinking on her wrists. You manage a smile and hug her back, slightly overwhelmed.
Everyone starts moving deeper into the house, your dad talks Negan’s ear off and your mom is caught in a flurry of Lucille’s questions about what’s for dinner. Overlapping voices bounce off the walls. You try to hang back for a second but you’re forced to move along with the chaotic current.
And then you feel it. A hand brushes against your waist and gives a brief, deliberate squeeze. It’s fleeting but you know it’s him.
The second Negan saw you, he knew the night was going to be trouble. That outfit didn’t have him fooled. The way that top hugs you, the sway of your skirt. He barely let his eyes linger as you’re swept into the kitchen with the other ladies. Tonight, you’re a woman on a mission and damn if he didn’t respect the hell out of that.
“Honey,” your mom blindly shoves a fistful of cutlery in your direction, not bothering to look up from her work on the kitchen counter. Even with the whole day to prepare, she’s somehow behind schedule and only whipping up the batter for dessert now.
“Help set the table,” she politely orders. You know there’s no room for debate, taking the array of forks and blunt knives.
You don’t mind helping out, especially when you see Negan and your dad in the dining room already. Where Lucille has wandered to, you’re unsure. Maybe the bathroom, or maybe she entered the kitchen a few moments after you left, barely missing each other. It’s like there’s a constant rotation in and out of each room. As if to prove your point, when you enter the dining room, you almost bump into your dad as he leaves.
You don’t waste your opportunity, not knowing any many times you’ll get to be alone with Negan tonight. “Your sweatshirt is inside my bedroom, by the door, in a bag,” you keep your voice low as you set the table “I can get it if you’d like to put it in your truck”.
You figured he’d appreciate the gesture. Straight to helping sort this shit out. Not trying to get in his pants straight away or acting as if nothing happened. Simply being practical.
Negan gives a soft scoff but you can’t quite tell if it’s amusement or annoyance. “That’s all I get?” you almost melt as the smirk he gives you as he whispers “No hi, how are you? How’s your dick doing?”.
A mischievous smile plays at your lips. You shrug casually “Well, since you asked… how is it?”.
“Missing you” Negan answers, not missing a beat.
You try to ignore the flutter in your stomach. “I haven’t forgotten about my promise,” you mention, watching out of the corner of your eye as Negan rounds the table to you.
“Neither have I” he practically growls, crowding behind you. “The other morning, I woke up with my dick about to explode just thinking about it,” he nuzzles against you, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.
Despite needing to stay alert, your eyes slowly shut. You savor his scruff against your neck, making the sensitive skin tingle.
Negan isn't as aggressive as he was that night at the bar but he isn’t very soft either. It’s like he has a natural roughness to him, the way he kisses, the way he fucks. All of which you know a little too well.
Bringing your comfort to an end, you hear your mother laugh, probably at something Lucille is saying. Negan must know it too as his lips leave you.
“My sweatshirt is in your room?” He repeats.
You nod immediately “In a Target bag, yeah”.
Negan moves away from you, back to his casual position at the other side of the table as you hurriedly finish setting the cutlery. He goes to speak again but before Negan can get a word out, your mother is bustling into the room with a hot bowl of mashed potatoes.
“New recipe!” She announces to Lucille, who trails in after her. You try not to catch her eye.
“Instead of the usual spices, I tried being more adventurous with my potatoes” Your mother rambles.
Lucille simply nods along, her eyes studying you instead. You barely said hi to her when she first got here, despite how friendly she was to you. All Lucille got was a smile she can only describe as pitiful and now you won’t even look at her.
She goes to examine Negan’s body language next but when Lucille turns, she’s met with empty space. Like a ghost, he’s vanished.
“And I actually listened to the recipe this time and put honey in with the carrots!” Your mother prides herself on her skills “Carrots… oh shoot, the carrots!”. Much to your horror, your mother darts out of the room and back to the kitchen, leaving you and Lucille alone.
A beat of silence.
Another.
It’s only when the silence stretches a little too long do you finally lift your eyes to meet hers. She’s smiling.
“I like your skirt,” she says, her voice soft and strangely warm. “I used to wear things like that all the time when I was your age”.
You offer a small shrug “Thanks. Honestly, I kinda forgot I had it”.
She lets out a light laugh, as if you’ve both been part of some unspoken mischief. Well, maybe you both are but if Lucille found that out, you don’t think she’d be laughing.
“It’s a bold choice for daylight,” she says “I almost wore a dress that short today, but I came to my senses before stepping out the door”.
You're not sure whether to laugh with her or lob the nearest utensil across the table. Something about how she talks feels like both an invitation and insult.
“Negan liked it though,” she adds, her lips curling into a teasing smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
The comment lands too precisely. It’s enough to make you wonder if Lucille knows or if everything she says now feels like an interrogation thanks to your own guilty conscience. You force a smile, lips pressed into a thin line and you offer a silent ‘thank you’ to the universe when your mother’s voice floats in from the kitchen, calling your name.
Lucille’s smile lingers, soft and undisturbed, as you retreat. She doesn’t so much as blink. The image must remain untouched: the perfect wife with the perfect life, part of a marriage that still radiates that golden glow of first love. At least, that’s what she tells herself. Now, if only she could track down her damn husband to complete the illusion.
Lucille moves with practiced grace, her heels silent on the floor as she slips out of the dining room. She skirts the kitchen without a glance, already knowing if Negan were in there, she’d have heard his laugh by now, booming and obnoxious as always when he's trying to charm someone. Either you or your mother. The uncertainty around which one makes her queasy.
The bathroom door hangs open. No voices float down the hall. No telltale murmur of sports stats or banter with your dad. Her brow twitches. Where the hell did he go? As she passes the front window, something outside catches her eye. A flash of movement. Bingo.
Negan shuts the car door with a thud, leaving the bag with his sweatshirt on the back seat. Thankfully, he’s already decided to grab the opportunity to have a cigarette while outside, giving himself the perfect alibi as Lucille steps out the front door.
“Hey” she plainly says, walking down the porch steps.
“Hey yourself,” Negan mutters, flicking his lighter to life. The cigarette catches and he takes a long drag, eyes half-lidded as if this were the most peaceful moment he’d had all day.
Lucille doesn’t return the ease. “You already need a smoke break?”.
Negan lets out a dry laugh that doesn’t quite make it past his throat. “Nope. Just figured I’d come out here and take a shit on their lawn” he answers sarcastically.
Lucille doesn’t suppress any part of her reaction. The breath she exhales is sharp. Her arms fold across her chest, shoulders drawn tight. The eye roll is textbook. And none of it is subtle.
“Can you not for, like… the two hours we’ll be here? That’s all I ask” she snips back. She pauses for a moment, sniffs and then sighs “Now you’re going to stink”.
He shrugs, glancing toward the house with vague disinterest. “The place already smells like someone cremated a vegetable patch. I doubt my cigarette’s gonna make the top ten list of offences”.
Whatever fantasy Lucille has been holding onto, the white-picket fences and synchronized laughter, begins to waver and fray around the edges. Her lips press into a tight line.
“Just put it out and get back inside,” she says, already turning on her heels.
She doesn’t wait for his reply. If she stays out here any longer, she’ll lose whatever thread of control she has left. The door swings shut behind her.
Negan watches the smoke curl up from his cigarette, then exhales a slow stream of it through his nose. The evening has already been a pain in the ass. Now, it’s worse. If he had been thinking about dragging you somewhere quiet before, that thought’s locked in now.
Guilt doesn't hit as hard when all he gets from his wife are barbed jabs and a cold shoulder. Maybe he’s not innocent either. He knows his jokes have a way of biting back but hell, lately it feels like even breathing wrong is a crime.
They’re fucked, really. Negan knows it and deep down and he assumes Lucille does too. But how can either one of them back out of the marriage now when they’ve sunken so much into it? A mortgage, a house, loans, debts. Damn, Negan really needs your sweet mouth around him now. The perfect distraction from the hole he’s dug himself.
You try not to be obvious as you look for Negan. He’s not with your dad or in the dining room. You haven’t seen Lucille either which gives you an odd feeling of dread, knowing they’ve both disappeared. But before you have to worry for long, your mother calls for everyone to get seated for dinner.
You settle into your seat, subtly ensuring the chair next to you remains vacant. You're not confident (or stupid) enough to give a Negan a handy while everyone is having dinner but a little touching here and there shouldn’t hurt, right?
Even when your mother sits at one side of you, you still have some hope as Negan and Lucille enter. You don’t let it interfere with your plans, the empty space on your other side holding your hope. His eyes meet yours and you feel like a tween going through puberty as you instantly smile. But that’s when the free chair beside you scrapes against the floor.
Like a bewildered animal, your head snaps in that direction to see another smile. Lucille. Again.
… Great.
“This seat taken?” she asks, already sitting down.
Like some sick nightmare, Negan has to sit in front of the two women in his life: you and his wife. He tries not to be awkward about it, selfishly not meeting your eyes as Lucille badgers you with questions.
"Got a boyfriend yet? I’m sure there’s a line of them after you,” she compliments “When I was your age, it was boys, parties, always out with friends. Life never slowed down”.
She barely takes a breath before continuing.
“Have you thought about moving out? Getting your own place? I did it around your age, had a place with a few girlfriends. It was wild. Eventually it felt like home, like it was really mine. Maybe it’s time you tried that too. Not just yet, I guess, but hopefully soon, right?".
You spear a forkful of greens and chew with exaggerated focus, nodding along as if Lucille’s barrage of personal questions hasn’t just lit your cheeks on fire. Sure, because still living with your parents is something you want to be quizzed about!
Thankfully, or maybe unfortunately, Lucille moves the conversation on to your mother instead. “How would you feel about it? Think you would get empty nest syndrome?” she asks.
Negan tries not to wince as he eavesdrops, pretending to listen to your dad shittalking his co-workers. People say Negan’s the brash and direct one but goddamn, he knows Lucille can come straight out with it sometimes.
He sees it happen, so slow and subtle, and yet the most obvious thing in the room. Your posture, once open and lively, now folding in on itself like a page being creased. The spark behind your eyes has dulled, replaced by that quiet look people wear when they’re trying not to feel too much. You’re retreating and something about it twists in his chest in a way he didn’t expect.
Negan hates it. Hates that look on you. Hates that Lucille’s running her mouth without a clue, and that he’s just sitting here, watching it happen.
Without thinking, he shifts in his seat and slides his foot across the floor under the table. Just a small nudge. A silent gesture. He hopes it lands gently against your ankle, enough to catch your attention without making a scene.
His way of saying ‘I see you, baby’.
But the contact he makes isn’t with your foot.
Across from him, Lucille doesn’t say a word. Her smile doesn't change, and her tone stays light as she continues chatting with your mother. Negan feels the light pressure in return. A slow and smooth, gentle graze up the side of his calf. He exhales, just a little, the knot in his chest loosening.
In his mind, this is your way of answering him. A quiet ‘I’m okay’.
He doesn’t look at you directly. Just a small, sweeping glance. But what he sees only deepens that warmth: the way you're acting completely natural, your face still quiet but softer now, as if you feel it too.
Negan doesn’t realize that it’s not your foot gently stroking his leg under the table. Nor does he see the barely there smile playing at the corners of Lucille’s mouth as she continues her conversation, pretending nothing is happening. Her leg remains where it is, answering a call Negan isn’t actually posing her.
Remaining completely oblivious, you chew mundanely on your food. You pray you’ll get a chance alone with Negan, trying to come up with different excuses or scenarios that would allow it. Unable to help himself, Negan steals another glance your way. His gaze is gentle but full of something far too close to longing.
He doesn’t even realize the softness in his expression, the unguarded affection carved into his features. It’s the kind of look no one gives their wife after years of a marriage built more on duty than desire. It’s the look of a man who’s found something he thought was long gone. Hope. Lust. Yearning.
And Lucille sees it.
At first, she’s still convinced the foot under the table means what she wants it to mean. Her leg lingers against his, her smile patient and waiting for him to respond. Anything. A smirk or a quick look her way to confirm the game she thinks they’re playing. But when she follows the direction of his gaze and sees who it’s truly meant for, something shifts in her.
The realization comes slow. She watches the way Negan looks at you and her stomach turns. There’s no flirtation in his eyes when they land on you. No coyness. Just a quiet ache of something raw, real and undeniably not meant for her.
Her smile falters. It’s small, almost imperceptible but it’s there. The first crack in the polished exterior. She blinks, refocuses on her plate, and subtly draws her leg back under the table, leaving a space between her and Negan where, for a brief moment, she thought something still lived.
Negan still hasn’t noticed. His eyes going from you to the occasional nod and look in your father’s direction as he pretends to pay attention.
You only look up because the scrap of your fork against your plate feels too loud. The hum of overlapping conversations blurs into the background as your gaze lifts, landing on him. Negan. Goddamnit maybe dropping your fork and getting under the table wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
At this point, any apprehension you felt about sucking him off is long gone. Now you just want to unzip his pants and get it out.
The rest of dinner unfolds in a muted haze. Your mother and Lucille carry most of the conversation, chatting about mutual friends and upcoming functions, their voices a constant thread weaving through the meal.
Across the table, Negan and your father exchange low, obligatory small talk. Work, sports, something about the grill. You mostly keep to yourself, quietly eating while nodding politely whenever your mother or Lucille pulls you into the flow of conversation.
After the plates are clean of any food, the table begins to empty. Your father claps Negan on the back and steers him toward the living room, already launching into some half-hearted commentary about the game that’s on. Negan goes with him, disappearing into the living room as your dad shuts the door.
Your mother, ever the hostess, is already stacking plates, humming to herself as she bustles into the kitchen. You follow with a handful of glasses and Lucille trails behind, offering to help put things away. You nod along, moving through the motions of cleanup while the conversation floats around you.
But you’re not done yet. You still have a dick appointment you’re determined to get to. You catch a moment and begin to meander towards the hall when your mother notices your slow edging towards the door.
“Honey? Where are you off to?” she questions but thankfully doesn’t give you enough time to answer, already continuing the conversation on her own “Just leave the boys alone, ok? You know what they’re like when it comes to sport”.
She turns to Lucille, having already lost interest in you. “They act like they’re in their own personal conclave! And I don’t mind it, it gives us some peace and quiet but do they always have to hog the tv?”.
You slip out before Lucille replies to her. Unfortunately, you know your mother is right. Going into the men while they’re in sports mode won’t achieve anything. Actually, all that will do is make you more horny since you’ll be in his presence again. So instead, you haunt the hall, hovering so you’ll hear any movement. Maybe then you can coax him into your room.
In the living room, your father leans back into the couch with a low grunt, beer in hand, eyes on the muted game on the television. Negan sits beside him, feigning interest. His gaze drifts towards the door. Negan can feel himself getting antsy but he knows he has a role to play.
“Jesus, you see that throw?” he commentates on the game, chuckling “Kid’s got an arm like a rocket launcher but that defense makes me think he has shit for brains”.
Your dad laughs, and the two keep the steady rhythm of back-and-forth, Negan tossing in his usual sarcastic jabs and colourful commentary.
But every few minutes, his eyes stray toward the door again. Negan knows he needs to see you, to feel you. Being as casual as possible, he stands with a stretch.
“Alright,” Negan says “Think I’ll go see what the ladies are up to, ask how long ‘til dessert’s ready”. Your dad waves him off, paying more attention to the game than Negan slipping out.
When Negan goes out to the quiet hallway, he breathes a silent sigh of relief. He needs a moment to slip away, to ease the itch under his skin with a quick smoke and silence. Laughter can be heard behind the closed kitchen door. It’s the kind of sound that should feel warm but only makes him feel out of place.
He slides a hand into his pocket, fingertips brushing the worn edge of his lighter when he hears you.
“Hi,” is all you say, almost shyly.
That’s already enough to make Negan want to scoff. You’re a lot of things but as you displayed the last time he saw you, you ain’t shy.
“Tonight’s not really going how I expected” you admit.
Negan assesses you carefully. “So you weren’t expecting dinner and a headache?” he says, voice low and a little rough. He doesn’t have to glance toward the kitchen for you to catch his meaning. The nattering, the laughter, neither wife has let up.
You shrug, the slow curl of your shoulder borders on playful. “I mean, I was expecting a headache,” you murmur “just not from them”.
A faint ghost of a smirk graces his face. “Not exactly the easiest place for a… quiet moment,” he mutters.
You huff a soft laugh through your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “A few minutes of privacy is all we’d need” you reply in a teasing tone.
That brings out his smirk unapologetically. “Just a few minutes? Someone’s confident in their abilities” Negan muses.
A few minutes. It doesn’t sound like a big ask but apparently it is. With your dad planted on the couch and the kitchen full of wine-soaked commentary and stories that won’t end, every chance keeps slipping through your fingers.
You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting someone to call your name. Instead, you notice something at the end of the hallway.
The bathroom door cracked open.
You look back at Negan, a spark lighting behind your eyes. “What about in there?” you ask, tilting your head towards it. Your voice is just above a whisper now, conspiratorial.
His eyes follow your line of sight, then return to yours. For the first time all evening, it feels like maybe the night isn’t a complete loss.
That glint in his eyes sharpens, like he’s been waiting for the green light that he didn’t think would actually come. “You serious?” he questions, already angling his body toward the door like gravity’s working in your favor now.
You don’t answer, the flash of a promiscuous look being enough. Turning on your heels, you hear Negan already moving behind you, both of you making a b-line for the bathroom.
A hand brushes against your lower back to urge you forward, or maybe to steady himself from the thrill of it. A burst of laughter echoing from the kitchen makes you almost break into a run. Negan must feel the pump of adrenaline too as he nudges you along.
You slide inside first, turning quickly to pull him in behind you. He catches the handle just before it clicks too loud, easing it shut with the care of someone defusing a bomb. Then the lock turns with a soft yet satisfying snap.
Your heart flutters and you try to convince yourself it’s the adrenaline and not the nerves of giving a bad blowjob. But you don’t let it deter you. This isn’t the time to get hesitant and coy.
Like that video said, be enthusiastic! Time to put your money where your mouth is… well, put his dick where your mouth is actually.
Negan took charge the last time and so you do what you can to set yourself up as the one controlling things this time. Getting down on your knees, your hands latch on to his belt as you look up at him.
“I’ve been waiting for my dessert,” you purr, slowly tracing a hand down to his bulge.
Negan sucks in through his teeth, back hitting off the wall. He can see you’re eager, that’s for sure. And so he keeps his hands by his side, letting you have your fun first.
He groans at the pressure of your hand giving his bulge a small squeeze. “Fuck me…” he whispers, trying to compose himself already. With a deep breath, he asks “You sure you wanna do this?”.
“I made a promise, didn’t I?” You reply with a smile, slowly unbuckling his belt.
“Fuck yeah you did,” he keeps his voice low, hands twitching to bury into your hair.
Popping open the button of his jeans, you tug down the zip. There’s a nervous excitement in your stomach as you unwrap your present, the tips from the horrendous video linger in the back of your mind.
Pushing his jeans and boxers down just enough, you free his stiffening cock. Negan can feel his lust dulling his inhibitions. All signs say to stop and yet he can’t help himself growling out a command to you.
“Suck”.
Slowly, you bring your mouth to the tip. You remember to use your hands, holding the base as you lick the smooth head. "Sweet Jesus..." he hisses through clenched teeth, watching as your tongue teases the sensitive tip.
As much as he loves this, he knows your time together is limited. His hands can’t help themselves anymore, going to your hair as if there’s a magnetic pull.
You take the tip and just a bit more into your mouth. You suck gently, applying light pressure as you pull back, letting the head slip out of your mouth with an audible pop. You repeat this motion slowly, taking as much as you can into your mouth.
Negan watches as you try to take him deeper, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck. He's too big for you to deepthroat but he loves how your lips stretch around him.
When you tighten your grip, wrapping your hands around what you can’t get into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, Negan thinks you might suck whatever measly soul he has straight out of his dick.
His eyes roll back slightly, enjoying the sight of you working him. "That's it," he encourages, hips instinctively moving in sync with your mouth "just like that". He groans, his hand guiding your head gently. You gag, more of him having gone into you than you anticipated. With a slight splutter, you pull back and breathe.
“Sorry” you quickly wipe away some spit threatening to dribble out of your mouth. "Shh, it's okay," he whispers "but fuck sweetheart, I'm gonna cum in your mouth if you keep doing that”.
You give a smirk, regaining your breathing. Holding his cock, you lick up the underside, feeling Negan’s hands tighten in your hair.
“But you promised me a facial” you pretend to pout before focusing on sucking the tip again.
"Fuck I know..." He watches hungrily as you suck the head, his balls tightening. His grip in your hair starts to guide you faster as he yearns to cum and paint that pretty face of yours.
"Suck harder, I know you can… where’s the fuckin’ slut from before gone, eh?" Negan pants, that degrading man you met at the bar starting to come out.
You give a small moan, staring up at him. His cock goes further back your throat again but this time you try not to gag, concentrating on sucking him off.
You’re a walking contradiction and Negan loves it. Big innocent eyes looking up at him, but with the eager mouth of a whore that just got a hundred bucks.
"You look like you should be on your knees taking communion, not sucking dick,” his voice drops an octave, watching your lips stretch around him "Choke on it?".
You blink for a moment, tears almost running down your face as you take in his request. Going as far down as you can, his cock fills your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You feel your throat convulse but you hold position.
A strangled noise leaves you but it only makes his dick throb. “Y’could be a world class slut, you know that?” With lust taking over, Negan’s hands pull your head down further.
Drool pools in your mouth, overflowing down your chin. Despite your brain hardly functioning, you gently cup his balls with your hands, trying to do as much as possible for him. Holding position for a few seconds, you pull back, spit following you as you catch your breath again.
"You’re killing me..." Negan groans as you pull back, letting you catch your breath before diving back in. His hands guide your head, setting a pace that's fast but shallow.
"Keep looking up at me like that,” he orders “wanna see you take it”.
As you concentrate not gagging, you can feel the wet warmth between your own legs building. Each shallow thrust of his hips, each taste of pre-cum, makes your core ache with desire. Your panties become damp as your arousal grows and you can't help but press your thighs together.
"Fucking beautiful," he says, his voice thick with lust. It’s like Negan can’t decide what he wants. One moment he’s pushing your head further down his dick but the next he’s pulling your head back so he can see your tear-streaked face better. You don’t mind though, trying to catch a breath whenever you can.
You don’t hear every word he says, the noises coming from your own mouth distracting you. " …pathetic slut..." you hear him say, before he corrects himself “... my pathetic slut“.
The words only encourage you. Your hands work in tandem with your mouth, knowing you can’t possibly have much more time with him alone. Surely someone will come looking for one of you soon. Or someone will need to use the bathroom.
He grabs a handful of your hair, forcing your head down harder onto his dick “Open your fucking mouth wider”. You try to do so but you gag around him.
"Take it, baby, I know you can" he growls, pushing your head down further despite your gagging. His hips start moving, fucking your mouth roughly. Each thrust resonates through your entire body. Thankfully, your gagging eases but you can still feel your reflex attempt to trigger with each thrust of his dick.
"Shit..." Negan sees the mess he’s making of you. The spit. The tears that naturally come with gagging so much. And he can only fantasize about the mess in your panties.
Pulling your head back sharply, his length slaps against your cheek. You give a small whine as he does, having little time to process what’s happening as you follow his orders.
"Open," He grunts, fisting his length tightly “Wanna see how much I get in”.
Your mouth stays open, tongue out and ready to catch his cum. You don’t have to wait long until you feel the ropes of warm cum landing, but not just on your tongue. Negan paints your face.
Cheeks. Nose. Chin. Lips.
“That’s it” He approves, giving a few final strokes before squeezing out the last drops onto your tongue.
You don’t need a mirror to know you look a mess and the laugh Negan let’s out seems to confirm your thoughts. "You look like a damn porno" he says.
Letting go of your hair, he brings a hand around to your face, spreading the cum by your mouth around your lips. You take the opportunity to suck his thumb, licking the cum off and swallowing all he had given you.
You let it go with a small pop, mimicking the same treatment his dick got. “Was it good?” You ask, your hoarse voice surprising you.
"Was it good?" He repeats, chuckling deeply as he stuffs his softening dick back into his pants. "You're fucking kidding me, right? Look at you. You're a goddamn mess” He gestures to your cum-covered face, a smug grin on his face.
You're unsure whether or not that answers your question, or if any of it is a good thing. Negan sees the cogs turning in your head. ”You took that like a pro, sweetheart" he assures you, gently helping you up onto your feet.
Not done teasing yet, you gather other spurts of cum from your cheeks and lick that off your fingers next.
“Thanks” you shrug, playing off how relieved you are.
Negan grins widely, impressed by your dedication. “You’re a fuckin’ keeper, you know that?” He drawls, reaching a hand out to ruffle your already messed up hair. It’s strange to feel such a platonic action after he’s just fucked your face but that’s who Negan is, you suppose.
One minute you’re being chastised for wearing provocative clothing. The next, Negan is tearing your dress off in a public bathroom. One minute you’re slut or whore, the next you’re ‘sweetheart’ again.
The only constant so far is bathrooms. That makes you pause for a moment before saying “We have to stop doing this by a toilet. It’s weird”.
He barks out a laugh at that, quickly covering his mouth. Negan waits a moment, waiting for someone to come see what’s going on. But when no one interrupts, he continues “You stay at, uh… what’s that friend of yours name again? The one you lied to your folks about being with the last time?”.
“Lydia,” you answer, turning on the sink tap. Catching a look of yourself, you’re surprised you don’t look half bad. Maybe stained looks good on you.
“Right, you sleep over at hers often?” He asks, taking his time as he buckles his belt.
You carefully splash some on your face “I guess, yeah… why?”.
“So if you told them you were staying at hers some night, they’d believe it?” Negan asks “No questions asked?”.
You nod, eyes meeting his and you try to manage your hair. The smirk says it all.
“Huh… all I’d need to do is feed Lucille some shit and we could have a night away somewhere, finally get you alone without sneaking around”.
Your body screams at the idea but you try not to show your excitement. “You’d have to pay for the hotel room though,” you say snarkily “I think that’s the least you could do”.
He laughs again, lower this time. “Careful baby,” he gives you ass a firm smack as he passes for the door. The sting makes you jolt, half from the hit but half from the way he’s already slipping away.
You always knew your time with him came in fleeting, stolen slices. But that doesn’t make it any less confusing. Or any easier.
“Wait,” you blurt out, the word catching before it’s fully formed. Negan freezes, one hand resting on the lock. Slowly, he turns his head back to you.
“What about me?” you ask, voice quieter now. He doesn’t answer straight away. Letting it linger for a moment, the anticipation builds.
Negan lets out a low whistle. “Oh, sweetcheeks,” he drawls, voice dripping with that infuriating charm “You know I wanna eat that pussy like it’s my last meal but…”. He clicks his tongue, mock sympathy curling in his tone. “Time just ain’t on our side, honey.”
And just like that, he slips out the door with maddening ease, leaving behind a whole lot of unfinished business. You let out a huff.
He called you a whore but at least they get paid. All you got for your efforts was a smack on the ass and a bare face, most of your make-up having washed away with his cum.
Negan knows your type, knows you’d probably jump him if he didn’t leave the bathroom. One taste of dick and you’ll be wet all day. The thought alone makes his dick throb again, already missing your mouth.
Going back into the sitting room, your dad is like a statue, in the same position as before. Negan gives a grimacing tight lipped smile, as if he got caught doing something he shouldn’t.
Sitting back down on his spot on the couch, Negan apologizes “Sorry if I smell like smoke”.
He’d rather your dad think he was having a cigarette outside rather than face fucking the man’s daughter. Your dad waves off Negan’s faux concern, mumbling the moments of the game he missed. Negan sinks into the couch comfortably, knowing that as long as you don’t make it obvious, you’ve both gotten away with another escapade.
Still in the bathroom, cool water runs over your wrists as you try to bring your heart rate back down. You smooth a hand down your top but thankfully everything looks fine. Small mercies there’s not drops of Negan splattered all over your outfit.
The click of the doorknob spins your stomach before your brain can catch up. The door swings open and your mother steps in, mid-sentence on about wine refills when he sees you.
“Jesus!” she yelps, hand flying to her chest “You scared me half to death!”.
You whip around, just as startled. “Sorry! I—sorry, I mustn’t have locked it” you blabber.
She narrows her gaze, scanning your face like she's the Terminator instead of your mother. Subtle, trained and looking for anything out of the ordinary.
“You okay?” she asks.
You nod quickly. “Yeah, I just needed a minute. I’m feeling a little weird” You gesture vaguely toward the sink as if it can be your alibi.
She frowns, but not suspiciously. You thank whatever higher power there is when her tone seems more concerned. “You feeling sick?” she presses.
“No, no. I’m fine,” You say too fast before shrugging, deciding that maybe you shouldn’t deny a good excuse “I mean, maybe, I just feel kinda strange y’know?”.
She studies you for a moment longer. You’re fully dressed, your hair’s in place, and nothing smells like guilt or sex. Just a hint of soap and whatever dignity you managed to salvage.
“Well,” she sighs, brushing past you to grab a hairpin from the vanity. “Don’t lurk in here too long. I was about to serve dessert if you’re up for it”.
You nod again, giving a sheepish smile you hope might look weak in a sickly way. “Yeah, I think I can muster up having some cake”.
She gives you one last glance and then steps out, leaving the door open this time. Giving yourself a quick look, you silently tell yourself to keep it together.
You’re glad to see how refreshed you look. Maybe slightly breathless. And looking sort of flustered. With your panties sticking to your pussy with how wet you are. But you’re still holding it together!
…Barely.
Squaring your shoulders, you walk out of the bathroom as if you’re going up to the frontlines of a war. Voices and clinking dishes subconsciously call for you from the dining room.
It feels a little weird to walk, your pussy practically dripping and making each step feel like another ride down the slip and slide between your legs. But you carry on nonetheless, ready to act as boring and normal as humanly possible.
The moment you round the corner, you spot an empty chair at the table and (more importantly) who’s beside it. Negan sits back in his seat, fingers curled loosely around a can of soda.
He’s laughing at something Lucille just said as she stands with a knife in hand. Whether he’s laughing because she’s actually funny or he’s fearing for his life, you can’t tell.
Even if Negan is a little affected by what happened five minutes ago, it doesn’t show. Not in the way his mouth curves lazily around the rim of his can, or how he only glances your way without missing a beat.
You slide into the seat next to him, carefully letting your leg brush his under the table. Lucille gives you a slight look but you can’t tell if it’s because you sat next to her husband or if you look more flushed than you initially thought. Well, if she wanted the seat, she should’ve moved faster instead of just standing there. You snooze, you lose.
Your mother bustles in from the kitchen, wearing oven mitts and holding a tray that sends waves of warm sugariness through the room.
“Hot out of the oven,” she announces proudly, placing the cake in the center of the table “Chocolate, just like old times”.
Lucille lights up as she passes the knife, letting your mother do the honors. Once she’s sat down across from you both, she starts to gush “God, remember when you used to make this every weekend? I’ve been dreaming about this!”.
Your mom beams, already cutting thick slices while steam curls up from the soft centre. Your father’s voice calls faintly from the other room, a low rumble over the TV. “Pass on dessert! Game’s getting good!”. Typical.
Your mom rolls her eyes affectionately. “He’s glued to that couch,” she mutters, placing a plate in front of you.
You thank her, then glance sidelong at Negan. He finally meets your eye. Just for a second. You get no smile. No words. Just that look. That quiet, smoldering acknowledgment of what no one else knows. You lower your gaze and pick up your fork.
The cake is warm and melts on Negan’s tongue. Still, it’s not the sweetest thing he’s wanted to taste tonight.
He chews like it‘s delicious, nods appreciatively at your mother’s proud smile as she tells them about how she found the recipe somewhere. Negan isn’t sure where though, he was too busy thinking about your pussy when your mom said that part of the story.
He doesn’t look at you much. Negan knows it’s ridiculous but he’s sure Lucille can smell it off of him. The lies. Deception. She’s like a goddamn cadaver dog when she picks up the scent of something being awry.
Every now and then, he risks a glance your way, just to see the way your lips part around the fork in a way he knows all too well. He clears his throat and takes another sip of his drink, hoping the fizz will ground him. It doesn’t.
As delusional as it sounds, Negan was hoping to fuck you again. Now he sees that was just a wet dream. You both had your moment in the sun, where you turned his world upside down and gagged around him like there’s no tomorrow.
He shifts in his seat, trying to play it off his own dirty thoughts. He adds a lazy comment to the conversation, a dry “Mmhmm,” and “Yeah, taste’s great”. Lucille nods along and Negan hopes he’s doing enough to convince her he’s listening.
But no matter how much he tries, his mind isn’t on the cake. It’s on the bathroom and on what he didn’t get enough of.
Lucille dabs the corner of her mouth and launches into a story from years ago. Negan nods at the right moments, even chuckles once or twice. But under the table, his hand edges across to your soft thigh.
His fingers splay out and spread across your thigh possessively. You shove a piece of cake into your mouth to stop yourself from smirking. You may have it bad for Negan, but it certainly feels like he can’t get enough of you either.
Trying to act natural, you slowly open your thighs under the table. It’s difficult to look bored above the table, while below you're trying to angle your body in such a position that gives Negan access to everything.
His thumb draws circles on your inner thigh, inching closer to what he really wants. He keeps his focus on your mom, conversing normally as his hand inches dangerously close to your panties.
Nodding your head, you add “Yeah, I remember hearing about that”. Although neither your mother or Lucille directly acknowledge your participation, already jumping to some other old memory.
Negan acknowledges you though, under the table. His middle finger nudges its way around your damp panties and smoothly slides down your folds. You eat your cake casually, lowering your head so neither woman will see the pleasure in your expression.
Like a man on a mission, the finger glides through your obvious wetness until it reaches your entrance. The finger teases your hole, pressing gently before slowly sliding inside. He enters you effortlessly, your wet pussy eagerly greeting him. His finger curls slightly, hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.
Both of you look like the definition of calm, neither one of you letting on what’s happening. Negan keeps his arm low, making sure all the action occurs below the table cloth so that the others can’t tell his arm is angling towards you.
His finger moves with agonizing slowness, barely withdrawing before pushing back in deeper each time. He's not fingering you aggressively or quickly like he might if you were alone; instead, he's drawing out each stroke deliberately slow and shallow to torture you silently.
He snaps you out of your quiet tranquility with a compliment. "I have to say, this cake is fucking amazing,” he looks directly at your mother, a wide grin on his face as if he doesn’t have his finger in her daughter.
She waves away his compliments before Lucille steals her attention “You’ll have to give me the recipe”. It acts as the perfect distraction for Negan to add another finger inside you, stretching you out.
“Anyways, dinner has been great but we should really get going soon” Lucille glances Negan’s way before showing off her sympathetic smile to your mom.
But your mom doesn’t catch the smile. Instead, her eyes land on you. Breathless with your mouth slightly agape. And worst of all… hardly eating your slice of cake!
"Are you feeling okay?" she asks concernedly.
Negan’s movements stifle but just for a second as you come up with a reply “Yeah— I think I’m just feeling a little flushed”.
His finger suddenly shifts upwards, finding your swollen clit and applying pressure. You have to fight to keep your breathing steady as pleasure shoots through you. Your eyes flutter briefly closed before you regain composure, trying not to squirm visibly in your seat.
Your core tightens with impending release. With aching thighs, you do the one thing your body is begging you not to. You move your legs away from Negan and abruptly stand up, nearly knocking your chair back. The movement forces Negan’s hand to fall away, loosely dropping to his side. Your skirt whooshes slightly but it looks as though that’s been caused by your abrupt movement and not Negan’s hand.
“Actually, I think I might lay down for a while,” you announce, eyes darting to each person “I don’t feel so good”.
Your mom simply nods, taking your excuse at face value. “Ok, I can save you some cake for later” she assures. Her eyes follow you out, giving Negan the perfect opportunity to bring his hand up to the table.
His fingers are coated with your wetness but before the others can notice, he uses his hand to pick up his last piece of cake on his plate and pop it into his mouth. He deliberately licks each finger, letting out an exaggerated groan of approval as you leave.
That asshole. Surely he wasn’t trying to make you cum. He knew you’d pull away in the end. That you’d be the one to disrupt your own pleasure. As if you had a choice.
You’re only in your bedroom a few minutes when you hear the goodbyes begin.
“We’ll have to do this again soon!”.
“Next time, I’ll make brownies!”.
“Just make sure the next time it’s not on the same day as the game, ok?”.
You’re not called to say goodbye. After all, you’re too ‘sick’ or ‘faint‘ or whatever excuse is most believable to your mother. With a huff, you flop on to your bed. Your panties are still sticking to you but now all you have is yourself to fix that problem. Rolling over on to your side, you mutter “Fucking asshole…”.
⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹
Lucille doesn’t start talking until they’re nearly home. Negan doesn’t press her. He can feel the weight of whatever she’s building up to and figures it’s only a matter of time before she lets it out.
“She looks at you weird”.
Negan makes a low sound in his throat. It’s not quite agreement, more like he’s trying to figure out where she’s going with this. He silently hopes the next name she mentions is your mom but of course, it’s your name that leaves her lips.
“It’s like she just… watches. Everything. But especially you” Lucille explains “You haven’t noticed that?”.
Negan raises an eyebrow. “So she’s the one doing all the watching but somehow you’re catching every second of it? Sounds like you’re doing a fair bit of eyeballing yourself”. He gives a short laugh, hoping to deflect her unease with a joke. It doesn’t work. She responds with a scoff, all sharp edges.
“I’m being serious”.
“Yeah and I am too,” he lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug, eyes still on the road “so she’s not a chatterbox. Whatever”.
Lucille quietly stews for a few moments. Negan hopes he’s almost in the clear when he turns down onto their street, but peace is a fickle thing.
“I bet she’s got a thing for you.”
He rolls his eyes instinctively. “Nice to know you think I’ve still got universal appeal, honey,” he replies dryly as if it doesn’t stroke his ego.
He pulls into their driveway. Their little house, slightly run-down but comfortably familiar, greets him with its tilted porch steps and overgrown lawn. Never has crooked suburbia looked so inviting.
He tries to use Lucille’s next stewing period of silence to make his escape out of the car, swiftly turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt.
“Do you know the last time I went to theirs, she came back from her friend's place wearing your sweatshirt,” Lucille watches his movements pause at that revelation. “Wouldn’t know how she got that, would you?” she questions.
Negan looks to her, tongue running along the backs of his teeth as he thinks.
“I gave it to her as a souvenir after I fucked her, is that what you want to hear?” he shoots back “Jesus fucking Christ, Lucille, is this going to be it now? Is she the next woman I must be fucking?”.
It’s shitty, he knows. But Negan also knows the best form of defense is attack. Or, at least it’s always worked out for him that way.
Lucille physically shudders at the idea of that, her voice raising as she argues back “Well, you were definitely eye-fucking her tonight at the table. Right in front of me!”.
Negan snorts. “Before or after you tried to embarrass her in front of everyone?” his tone is sharper now “Because what you call eye-fucking, I call trying to make sure she didn’t burst into tears in the mashed potatoes.”
Negan hopes none of the neighbors are passing by. Even with the two of them still in the car, he’s sure anyone passing by would be able to hear their raised voices.
“You really think I didn’t just toss her that sweatshirt the last time they came over here for dinner? Maybe when I was showing her shit in the garage? That ever cross your mind?” His voice tightens as he adds, “Or was I fucking her in the back of the car then too, Lucille? You tell me since you apparently know everything”.
“You're twisting my words!” She argues “All I’m saying is she obviously has the hots for you and you being friendly will give her the wrong idea”.
To Negan, this feels like a win. A messy, backhanded one but still a win nonetheless. Lucille has shifted from accusing him directly to blaming it all on you, like she’s just trying to warn him of your supposed crush.
“Fuck, it’s like I can’t even talk to you anymore,” Lucille mutters, rubbing a hand down her face, not caring whether it smears her makeup.
“Not without accusing me of fucking somebody” Negan jabs back.
That’s enough for Lucille, undoing her seatbelt carelessly and kicking open the car door.
Ding!
Negan feels his balls tighten when his phone dings with a message. But if his balls are telling him one thing, it’s to lean into the mess.
“Want to check that?” Negan pulls his phone out of his pocket, waggling it as Lucille gets out of the car “Could be her, maybe she’s sending me a nude”.
Lucille doesn’t dignify that with a response. Just slams the car door hard enough to rattle the windows and throws a middle finger over her shoulder as she storms towards the house.
Negan watches her go, expression flat. He knows he’s going to be in the shitter for the night but when he opens up the notification, he thinks it might be worth it. There to greet him is a text he assumes must be you.
“Got number from dad’s phone. Book that hotel room asap”.
welcome to my dirty mind-
everything you’ll find here is written by me and only posted on tumblr, watty & ao3. I don't give consent for my work to be re-posted (in any language) onto any other platform, even if it is with credit. Thank you.
Joel miller x fem!reader x Negan smith | MAIN MASTERLIST
Warnings! smut!! minors DNI!
Age gap (I imagine them 50s and reader is in college (20s-30s)), oral m & f!receiving, 3some, p in v (wrap it up), creampie, nipple play, fingering, squirting, gagging, cum tasting (? idk), overstimulation, passing out, size kink, lmk if i forgot something
wc: 6.5k
Summary: Coming home from college for the break suddenly was intresting when you meet your dad's hot new neighbours
A/n: Okay I actually have soooooo much uni work to do but I needed to get this out of my system before i forgot what i was gonna write :). And I actually need these two to act in something tgt pleaseee. Anyways i hope you guys enjoyed this so def lemme know what you think!
The sun was setting over the rolling hills of the countryside, casting a golden hue over the sprawling farmland. You hadn’t been home in months, and the familiar scent of hay and earth filled your lungs as you stepped out of your car. Your dad’s farmhouse stood in the distance, its porch light flickering like a beacon. You stretched your arms, feeling the stiffness from the long drive melt away. College life had kept you busy, but there was something about coming home that always grounded you.
As you grabbed your bags from the trunk, you noticed movement in the neighboring field. Two figures on horseback were riding along the fence line, their silhouettes sharp against the fading light. You squinted, trying to make out who they were. Your dad had mentioned new neighbors moving in, but you hadn’t expected them to look like that.
One of the men tipped his hat in your direction, and your stomach did a little flip. You quickly looked away, pretending to fumble with your bags. When you glanced back, they were closer, their horses trotting toward you. Your heart raced as you realized just how big they were—both in stature and presence.
“Well, well, what do we got here?” The first man’s voice was deep, smooth, and laced with a teasing edge. He dismounted his horse with ease, his boots hitting the ground with a solid thud. His dark hair was peppered with gray, and his hazel eyes locked onto yours. He wore a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms. You swallowed hard.
“Joel,” he introduced himself, tipping his hat again. “You must be the college kid your dad’s been braggin’ about.” You nodded, suddenly feeling very small under his gaze. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m, uh, just visiting over the break.”
The second man swung down from his horse, his movements fluid and confident. He looked tougher than Joel, with a smirk that could only be described as dangerous. His leather jacket and black hat gave him a roguish charm, and his eyes–dark and calculating–seemed to see right through you. “Name’s Negan,” he said, his voice dripping with charm. “And let me tell you, darlin’, you’re a sight for sore eyes. We don’t get too many pretty faces around here.” You felt your cheeks flush, and you quickly looked down at your shoes. “Nice to meet you both,” you mumbled, suddenly very aware of how out of place you felt in your city clothes.
Joel chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Don’t let Negan scare you off. He’s all bark, no bite.” Negan feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. “Now, Joel, that’s just hurtful. I’m a gentleman through and through.” He turned his attention back to you, his smirk widening. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The tension between the three of you was palpable, and you couldn’t tell if it was intimidation or something else entirely that had your heart racing.
Joel stepped closer, his eyes softening just a fraction. “You need help with those bags?”
You shook your head quickly. “No, I’ve got it. Thanks, though.” Negan leaned against the fence, crossing his arms over his chest. “You sure? We’re just a couple of friendly neighbors, always willin’ to lend a hand.” “Or two,” Joel added, his lips quirking into a half-smile.
You laughed nervously, gripping the straps of your bags tighter. “I’m good, really. But thanks.”
They exchanged a look, one that you couldn’t quite decipher, before Joel nodded. “Alright then. You know where to find us if you need anything.” Negan tipped his hat, his smirk never wavering. “And I do mean anything, darlin’.”
You watched as they mounted their horses and rode off, their laughter carrying on the wind. As soon as they were out of sight, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Your dad’s voice calling your name snapped you out of your daze, and you hurried toward the house, your mind still reeling from the encounter.
—---------------
The next morning, you decided to explore the farm, hoping to clear your head. The air was crisp, and the sound of birds chirping filled the silence. You wandered toward the old barn, where your dad kept his tools and equipment. As you approached, you heard voices—deep, familiar voices.
“You think she’ll come around?” Negan’s voice carried a playful tone. “Dunno,” Joel replied. “She seemed pretty skittish.” You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. Were they talking about you? Before you could retreat, Negan’s voice called out.
“Well, well, look who decided to join us.” You turned to see Joel and Negan leaning against the barn, their eyes fixed on you. Joel had a cigarette dangling from his lips, while Negan twirled a piece of straw between his fingers. They looked like they’d stepped right out of a Western movie, and you felt like the damsel in distress. “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said, taking a step back.Joel shook his head. “You’re not interruptin’. We were just talkin’ about you, actually.”Your eyes widened. “Oh?”
Negan pushed off the barn and sauntered toward you, his smirk firmly in place. “Yeah, darlin’. We were wonderin’ if you’d let us show you around. You know, give you the grand tour.” You glanced between them, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “I, uh, I don’t want to be any trouble.” Joel stepped forward, his voice softer this time. “It’s no trouble. We’d like to get to know you better.”
The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in his tone-something that made your stomach flutter. Negan, on the other hand, was all charm and mischief, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“What do you say, sweetheart?” Negan asked, his voice low and teasing. “You up for a little adventure?”You hesitated, but something about the way they were looking at you—like you were the only person in the world—made you nod. “Okay. Just… don’t let me fall off a horse or anything.”
Negan laughed, a rich, hearty sound that made your cheeks heat up. “Don’t worry, darlin’. We’ll take real good care of you.”Joel’s hand brushed against yours as he took one of your bags, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. “C’mon,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Let’s get started.”As they led you toward the stables, you couldn’t help but feel like you were stepping into something much bigger than yourself. The tension between the three of you was undeniable, and you had a feeling this weekend was going to be anything but ordinary.
—-
Joel and Negan had taken you riding across the fields, their easy banter and playful teasing making you feel both exhilarated and flustered. By the time you returned to your dad’s farmhouse, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. You were still buzzing from the adventure, your cheeks flushed and your heart light.
As you stepped inside, your dad looked up from his newspaper, raising an eyebrow. “Where’ve you been all day?” he asked, his tone casual but curious.“I, uh, met the neighbors,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Joel and Negan. They showed me around.”Your dad’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Those two, huh? They’re quite the characters. Good men, though. Hard workers.” He paused, then added, “Why don’t you invite them over for dinner tomorrow? Be neighborly.” Your stomach did a little flip at the thought of spending more time with them, but you nodded. “Sure, I’ll ask them.”
—--------------------------------------
The next day, you found yourself standing in front of your closet, agonizing over what to wear. You finally settled on a pair of denim shorts and a black tank top, the lace of your bra just barely peeking out at the edges. It was casual but flirty, and you couldn’t help but wonder what Joel and Negan would think.
The doorbell rang just as you were finishing up in the kitchen, and you called out to your dad, “I’ll get it!” You opened the door to find Joel standing there, looking every bit the rugged cowboy in his plaid shirt and jeans. His hair was slightly damp, as if he’d just showered, and he held a bottle of wine in one hand. His eyes softened as they landed on you, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Hi there, sweetheart,” he said, his voice warm and smooth. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek, his stubble brushing against your skin. You felt your face heat up instantly, and you hoped he didn’t notice how your breath hitched.“Hi, Joel,” you managed to say, stepping aside to let him in. “Negan’s not with you?”
“He’ll be here in a bit,” Joel replied, handing you the bottle of wine. “Had somethin’ to take care of first.”
You led him into the living room, where your dad greeted him with a firm handshake. The two of them fell into easy conversation, and you busied yourself in the kitchen, trying to calm your racing heart. Joel’s presence was overwhelming in the best way, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him as he chatted with your dad. Five minutes later, the doorbell rang again. This time, when you opened the door, Negan stood there, his signature smirk already in place.
He was dressed in his usual leather jacket and jeans, a six-pack of beer in one hand. His dark eyes swept over you in a way that made your knees weak. “Well, well, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice dripping with charm. “You look… damn good.” His gaze lingered on the lace of your bra peeking out from your tank top, and you felt your cheeks burn. Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed your cheek, his lips lingering just a fraction longer than Joel’s had. The scent of leather and cologne filled your senses, and you had to grip the doorframe to steady yourself.
“Negan,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Come on in.”
He stepped inside, his eyes never leaving yours. “Thanks, sweetheart. Brought some beer for the occasion.”
You blushed furiously, unable to form a coherent response. Negan chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you, and followed you into the living room. He greeted your dad with a hearty handshake and a joke, and soon the three of them were laughing like old friends.
As you set the table, you couldn’t help but feel the tension in the air. Joel’s quiet intensity and Negan’s bold charm created a dynamic that was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. Every time Joel’s eyes met yours, you felt a jolt of electricity, and every time Negan flashed you that devilish grin, your stomach did somersaults.
Dinner was a lively affair, filled with stories and laughter. Joel was surprisingly sweet, offering to help you clear the table and refill your glass of wine. Negan, on the other hand, was relentless in his teasing, his comments always toeing the line between flirty and inappropriate—though he kept it toned down around your dad. At one point, you caught Joel’s eye as you licked your fork in a slow, deliberate motion, your lips curling into a subtle smirk. His gaze darkened, and he shifted in his seat, clearly affected. Negan, sitting across from you, noticed the exchange and raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face. Your dad, engrossed in a story about the farm, didn’t notice a thing.
After dinner, Negan leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked your dad.“Upstairs, first door on the left,” your dad replied, gesturing toward the staircase. Negan nodded and headed upstairs, his boots thudding against the wooden steps. As he reached the landing, he noticed a slightly open drawer in your room. Curiosity got the better of him, and he peeked inside. His eyes landed on a pair of cute pink lace panties with a delicate ribbon on the front. He bit his lip, his mind racing with thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be having.
“Did you find it?” your dad shouted from downstairs, snapping Negan out of his reverie.
“Yeah, got it!” Negan called back, quickly closing the drawer—though not all the way—and making his way to the bathroom. He took a deep breath, trying to shake the image of those panties from his mind, but it was no use. When he returned downstairs, he avoided your gaze, though you noticed the faint flush on his cheeks. Joel, ever observant, raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
After Joel and Negan left, you went upstairs to your room and noticed the drawer slightly ajar, the pink panties peeking out. A slow smile spread across your face as you realized what had happened. You chuckled to yourself, feeling a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction.“Those cowboys,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. “What am I going to do with them?”
—----------------------------------------------
The next morning, the sun was already high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the farm. You woke up to the sound of your dad groaning in the living room. He was sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes, looking every bit the picture of a man who’d had one too many beers the night before.
“Dad?” you called out, trying not to laugh. “You okay?” He groaned again, waving a hand in your direction. “Joel called. Said he’d come over to help me with the fence on the south side of the property. But I… I don’t think I’m gonna make it, kiddo.”
You bit back a laugh, walking over to him. “You’re hungover, aren’t you?”
He peeked at you from under his arm, his face pale but amused. “Maybe. Just a little. That Negan and his damn beer… I swear, that man could drink a horse under the table.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “It’s okay, Dad. I’ll help Joel. You just rest.” He sighed in relief, giving you a grateful smile. “You’re a lifesaver, sweetheart. Tell Joel I’ll owe him one.”
You nodded, heading back to your room to get ready.
You decided to wear a white tank top that hugged your figure just right, the neckline dipping just enough to show a hint of cleavage. Your jean shorts were a little shorter than usual, riding high on your thighs, and you paired them with your red cowboy boots. You glanced in the mirror, running a hand through your hair, and smiled. You looked good, and you knew it.
—---------------------------
When you stepped outside, the heat of the day hit you like a wall. You spotted Joel in the distance, bent over the hood of his truck, his muscles straining as he worked on something under the hood. His plaid shirt was tied around his waist, leaving him in a plain white short sleeve top that clung to his broad shoulders and strong arms. You felt your stomach flutter as you approached him.
“Hey, Joel!” you called out, waving as you got closer.
He straightened up, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. His brown eyes landed on you, and a slow, easy smile spread across his face. “Well, hey there, sweetheart. What’re you doin’ out here?”You shrugged, trying to act casual despite the way your heart was racing. “Dad’s a little… under the weather. Said he owed you one for bailing on the fence.”
Joel chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. “That old man ain’t washed up against a little hangover, huh? But that’s alright. I’ll take good care of ya, darlin’.”
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the way he said “darlin’” in that thick Texan drawl of his. You stood there for a moment, watching as he went back to working on his truck. His hands were rough and calloused, but they moved with a precision that was almost mesmerizing. You couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed under his shirt, the fabric clinging to his chest and stomach.
—----------------------
The next two hours were a blur of chores. Joel had you helping him with everything from fixing the fence to hauling hay bales. He was patient with you, showing you how to do things the right way, but there was always that undercurrent of tension between you. Every time his hand brushed against yours, or his eyes lingered on you a little too long, you felt your breath catch.
Finally, Joel gestured to his truck. “Alright, darlin’. Last chore of the day. Gonna need you to help me wash this ol’ girl.” You nodded, grabbing a bucket and filling it with water from the hose. Joel did the same, and for a moment, the two of you worked in silence, scrubbing the truck down. But then, out of nowhere, Joel splashed a handful of water at you, hitting you square in the chest.
You gasped, the cold water soaking through your tank top. “Joel!” you squealed, glaring at him. He laughed, a deep, hearty sound that made your stomach flip. “What? Just tryin’ to cool you off, sweetheart.”You narrowed your eyes, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”
Before he could react, you scooped up a handful of water and threw it at him, hitting him right in the chest. His shirt clung to his body, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way it revealed the outline of his muscles. He had that perfect dad bod—strong and solid, with just the right amount of softness. You bit your lip, crossing your legs as you felt a heat pool in your stomach.
Joel noticed the way you were looking at him, and his smile turned into something darker, more intense. He ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face, and took a step closer to you. “Eyes up here darlin’,” he said, his voice low and rough.
You didn’t have time to respond before his arm was around your waist, pulling you against him. His other hand cupped your face, and then his lips were on yours, hot and demanding. Your hands flew to his neck, tangling in the damp hair at the nape of his neck as you deepened the kiss. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced—raw, passionate, and completely overwhelming.
Joel’s hands moved down your body, one gripping your waist while the other slid under your ass, lifting you effortlessly onto the hood of his truck. You gasped into his mouth as he kissed you again, his lips moving to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips as his hands roamed over your body.
His fingers found the button of your jeans, and before you could even think to stop him, he had them undone, sliding them down just enough to reveal the cute pink lace panties you were wearing—the same ones Negan had seen the day before. Joel let out a low groan, his eyes dark with desire. “Fuck, darlin’. You’re so damn cute.”You blushed, but before you could say anything, his hand was sliding your panties to the side, his thick fingers finding your wet folds. You moaned, your hips bucking against his hand as he slid a finger inside you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders for support.
Joel kissed you again, his lips swallowing your moans as he worked you with his fingers. But then, just as quickly as it had started, he pulled away, cursing under his breath. He slid your shorts back up, his hands trembling slightly, and took a step back. “Joel?” you asked, your voice shaky and confused.He ran a hand over his face, his breathing heavy. “I… I gotta go,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I shouldn’t have…” He trailed off, shaking his head before turning and walking away, leaving you sitting on the hood of his truck, your heart racing and your body aching for more.
—------------------------------------------------
You continued washing Joel’s truck and were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Negan approach until his voice broke the silence.
“Hi there, gorgeous,” he said, that signature smirk playing on his lips. You turned to see him leaning against the fence, his dark eyes fixed on you. He looked as effortlessly handsome as ever, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder and his jeans hugging his legs just right.
“Hey, Negan,” you replied, trying to sound casual despite the way your heart skipped a beat.
He tilted his head, studying you. “Everything alright? You look a little… sad.”
You shook your head quickly, forcing a smile. “No, I’m fine. Just… thinking.” Negan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, his gaze dropped slightly, and you realized your tank top had ridden up, revealing the white bow of your cute lace panties peeking out above your shorts. His eyes lingered for a moment, and you felt your cheeks flush as he raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Where’s Joel?” he asked, his voice casual but his eyes still fixed on you.
“Dunno,” you replied, tugging your tank top down self-consciously. “Somewhere inside, I think.”Negan nodded, his smirk never wavering. “Thanks, darlin’.” He stepped closer, and before you could react, he slapped your ass playfully, his hand lingering to give it a soft rub. You gasped, your eyes widening as he leaned in to kiss your ear, his breath warm against your skin.“I know you’re wearing those cute panties, babygirl,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “Don’t be naughty, or I’ll snitch to your dad.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already walking away, laughing to himself as he headed toward the house. You stood there, your heart racing and your body tingling from his touch. He had a way of leaving you flustered and wanting more, and this time was no exception.
—--------------
Negan stepped inside the house, calling out for Joel. “Joel? You in here, old man?” Joel appeared at the top of the stairs, his expression unreadable. “What do you want, Negan?”
Negan grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “Didn’t know that pretty little thing was visiting you. Her dad’s hungover or something?” Joel chuckled, though there was a tension in his shoulders. “Yeah, something like that.”
Negan’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the way Joel avoided his gaze. “Something happen?” he asked, his tone casual but probing. Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, man… I screwed up.” Negan’s eyebrows shot up. “You fuck her?” Joel shook his head slightly, his voice low. “I, uh… kissed her. And… put one finger in her.” Negan’s eyes widened, and he let out a low whistle. “Fuck, Joel. How’d her pussy feel?”
Joel rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Man, she’s the daughter of our neighbor. And like, twenty years younger than us.” Negan laughed, a deep, hearty sound. “Hell yeah, so her pussy’s even tighter. Fuck, I’d do anything to hit that.”
Joel chuckled, though there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes. “Go ahead. I think she’s really craving some old man dick right now.”
Negan feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. “Who you callin’ old?” He paused, his smirk returning. “You think she’d wanna take two old dicks? Think she could handle that?”
Joel’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he was considering it. The thought of it made his blood run hot, and he cleared his throat, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Negan… I don’t know, man.” Negan stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive tone. “Fuck, Joel, she’s dressed like a slut. She’s wearing those fucking panties for a reason. Didn’t she love it when your one finger got inside her? Imagine how she’d go crazy for your dick, huh?”
Joel’s hand rubbed the back of his neck, his mind racing. He knew it was wrong, but the thought of having you—of sharing you with Negan—was too tempting to ignore. Finally, he nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Fine. Let’s take her upstairs.”
Negan’s grin widened, and he clapped Joel on the shoulder. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
—--------------------
Negan walked back outside, where you were still standing by the truck, trying to calm your racing heart. He approached you with that same confident swagger, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Hi there, cutie,” he said, his voice smooth as honey. He lowered himself to whisper in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You still wet? ‘Cause your daddies got a surprise for you.”Before you could register what was happening, he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you bridal-style toward the house. You gasped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he laughed, the sound rich and deep.
“Negan, what are you—?” you started, but he cut you off with a wink.“Just relax, babygirl. You’re gonna love this.”He carried you inside, where Joel was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of hesitation—but it was quickly replaced by something darker, something that made your stomach flip. “Upstairs,” Joel said, his voice low and commanding.Negan didn’t need to be told twice. He carried you up the stairs, his grip firm but gentle, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest.
—---------------------
Joel led the way, his broad shoulders filling the hallway as he guided Negan to his bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting shadows across the king-sized bed. Negan laid you down gently on the mattress, his eyes never leaving yours.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, your heart racing as you took in the sight of the two men standing at the foot of the bed. Joel’s arms were crossed over his chest, his piercing eyes dark with desire. Negan stood beside him, one hand rubbing his beard as he stared at you with a hunger that made your stomach flip.
“Fuck, darlin’,” Negan said, his voice low and rough. “You’re so damn sexy.”
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but you didn’t look away. The way they were looking at you—like you were the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen—made you feel powerful and vulnerable all at once.
“Take off your top,” Negan ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for the hem of your tank top, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. You were left in nothing but your bra, the lace barely containing your breasts. Joel’s eyes darkened as he stepped closer, his gaze raking over your exposed skin.
He reached out, his calloused fingers gently tilting your chin up so you were looking into his eyes. Without a word, he leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss. His mouth was hot and demanding, and you melted into him, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. As he deepened the kiss, his lips trailed down to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin and making you gasp and your bra strap fell down your shoulder.
Joel’s hands moved to the back of your bra, his fingers deftly unhooking the clasp and letting the fabric fall away. He lowered the cup, exposing your perked nipple to the cool air. “How cute,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. He moved slightly so Negan could see, and you locked eyes with the man, your heart pounding in your chest.Negan bit his lip, his eyes dark with desire. “Fuck, Joel, she’s perfect.”
Before you could respond, Joel’s mouth was on your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud before he sucked it into his mouth. You moaned, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through you. Joel bit down gently, the sharp sting making you cry out.
Meanwhile, Negan was busy pulling off your shorts, his hands sliding down your thighs as he revealed your lace panties. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are, darlin’,” he said, his voice rough with need. “Joel, look at this.”
Joel hummed against your nipple, his hands moving to your other breast as he continued to tease you. Negan hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slowly, agonizingly so. You whined, your hips lifting off the bed in an attempt to speed him up.“Oh, is someone impatient?” Negan teased, his smirk widening as he looked down at you. “Be patient, doll. I’ll fuck you soon enough.”
His words sent a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Finally, your panties were off, and Negan’s fingers were on you, rubbing slow circles over your clit. You whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand as he added two fingers inside you without warning. “Fuck!” you gasped, your nails digging into the sheets.
“Heard you already took one finger today,” Negan said, his voice dripping with amusement. “So I know you can handle more, babygirl.” You moaned, the realization that Joel and Negan had been talking about you—about this—making you even hotter. Joel’s mouth moved to your other nipple, sucking and biting as Negan’s fingers worked you open. The dual sensations were overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck, she’s so wet, Joel,” Negan said, his voice strained.“Fuck I know,” Joel replied, his lips leaving your breast to capture yours in another deep kiss. When he pulled away, he looked down at you with a wicked grin. “Negan, why don’t you let her suck your dick while I eat her sweet pussy?”
Negan’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Now THAT’S what I’m talking about.” You barely had time to process what was happening before Joel was spreading your legs, his mouth descending on your pussy with a hunger that made your toes curl. Negan, meanwhile, unbuckled his pants, freeing his cock and positioning himself at your lips.“Open up, babygirl,” he said, and almost melted at the sight of you.
You obeyed, your mouth widening as Negan slid the tip of his cock past your lips. You licked at the precum, moaning around him as Joel’s tongue delved into your pussy. It felt so good. Joel’s tongue flicking over your clit while Negan’s cock hit the back of your throat made you feel hazy.
Negan gripped your hair, his hips moving slowly as he fucked your mouth. “Fuck, you’re so good at this,” he groaned, his eyes locked on yours. Joel added a finger, then another, curling them inside you as he sucked on your clit. The combination of his fingers and tongue had you writhing on the bed, your moans muffled by Negan’s cock. You tried to focus on sucking Negan's dick but the pleasure of Joel's tongue inside you made it very difficult.
“Focus on your own pleasure, babygirl I don’t wanna cum yet,” Negan said, pulling out of your mouth to give you a moment to breathe. “Let Joel take care of you.” You fell back against the mattress, your chest heaving as Joel continued to work you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes met yours between your thighs, and the intensity in his gaze made your stomach clench. You could feel the pressure building, your orgasm just out of reach.
And then it hit you—hard. You screamed as you squirted on Joel's face, your body convulsing as he rode out your orgasm with his fingers and tongue. Negan watched, his cock in his hand as he stroked himself, his eyes dark with desire.“Holy shit!” Negan yelled, his voice filled with awe. “That was fucking hot.” You collapsed back onto the bed, your body trembling as Joel finally pulled away, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
“Fuck, Joel, I wanna feel that sweet pussy around my cock,” Negan said, switching places with Joel. Joel looked at you with soft, sweet eyes, his hand gently rubbing over your cheek before cupping your chin. “You alright, darlin’?” he asked. You nodded, biting your lip as you looked up at him with teary eyes.
“Fuck, you’re so cute, baby. Do you think your jaw can handle sucking my dick right now?” he asked. You nodded again, and he chuckled. “Words, please,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Yes, Daddy, I wanna suck your dick,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. His hands moved to unbuckle his belt, and he smirked. “Alright, anything for you baby.”
Negan, now standing by your legs with his pants off, laughed. “Daddy, huh? That’s new.” He stripped off his shirt, revealing his toned body adorned with sexy tattoos. He grabbed your thighs, positioning himself at your entrance. You gulped nervously, noticing how big he was.
“Don’t worry, doll. It’ll fit,” Negan reassured you with a smirk. He looked into your eyes as he slowly entered you, drawing a moan from your lips. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly as he filled you.“Fuck, look at you, stretching for me so good. God, you feel amazing around my cock,” he groaned. You whimpered, still adjusting to his size, and hesitated to take Joel into your mouth.
As negan began moving faster, and the initial sting faded, it was replaced by a hot, pleasurable fullness. Finally, you turned your head toward Joel, who was already anticipating your next move. You propped yourself up on your elbows and took him into your mouth. His precum tasted sweeter than Negan’s, though they were roughly the same size.
You teased the tip of Joel’s cock with your tongue, and he groaned. “Fuck, darlin’, don’t tease me,” he said, his voice strained. You glanced up at him through your lashes, smiling around his length.
When suddenly, Negan thrust HARD into you, and Joel gripped the back of your head, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. You gagged, drool escaping your lips as Joel held you in place.“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Joel moaned. Negan laughed, his voice rough. “Her pussy clenched so hard just then. Fuck.”The reality of the situation hit you—you were here, with two older, incredibly sexy men. It felt surreal, like a dream. Joel snapped you out of your thoughts when he spoke up.
“Negan, can I feel her pussy for a second?” Joel asked. Negan nodded, pulling out of you with a wet sound that made you gasp. Joel withdrew from your mouth and moved to your front, entering you without warning. You cried out, the sudden fullness overwhelming.
“Holyyy shit,” Joel said, looking over at Negan, who laughed. “I know, right? It’s like a virgin pussy, but we both know she ain’t. Am i right you fucking slut?” Negan said, his tone teasing. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss that quickly turned into a full-on makeout session. Joel continued thrusting into you, his head falling back as he lost himself in the sensation.
Your orgasm was building, but Joel suddenly pulled out. “I wanna cum in her mouth,” he said to Negan, who nodded. “I get to breed her?” Negan asked, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Yeah, go ahead. I wanna see her swallow my seed like the good girl she is,” Joel replied. He positioned himself at your mouth again and entered it. You could taste yourself on him just as Negan reentered you. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, angling himself to hit your G-spot with every thrust. “Fuck Negan” you moaned.
“Call me Daddy,” Negan demanded, his voice rough. “Daddy,” you moaned, your voice breaking as he pinched your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through you.“Good girl,” he praised, his pace relentless and softly rubbing your clit now.
Your mind was spinning, overstimulated but craving more. You felt your orgasm approaching again, and Joel was close too. He gripped your head tighter, moving you faster on his cock until tears streamed down your cheeks.
With a groan, Joel came, his head falling back as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, licking his tip clean as he pulled away. “Fuck, that’s so hot,” Joel said, tucking himself back into his pants. He sat down in a rocking chair, watching as Negan continued to fuck you. Negan’s thrusts grew harder, and you finally came, your body trembling as you squirted around his cock. He groaned, filling you with his release.
“Fuck, I hope you’re on birth control, babygirl, ‘cause that’s a big load,” he said, his voice ragged. You moaned at the feeling of his warmth inside you, but suddenly, your vision blurred. Your eyes rolled back, and everything went black as you collapsed.
—----
After a few minutes, you slowly stirred awake, your head resting comfortably on Joel's pillow. As your vision cleared, you noticed both men standing nearby, their eyes fixed on you with a mix of concern and amusement. Joel sat on the edge of the bed, his hand gently brushing through your hair in a soothing motion. Negan, leaning against the wall, smirked down at you, his arms crossed over his chest.
"W-What happened?" you asked, your voice soft and slightly disoriented as you tried to piece together the last moments before everything went dark.Negan chuckled, his deep voice filling the room. "You passed out, sweetheart. Couldn't handle my cock after all, huh? You squirted like crazy,damn, it was something else." His words were laced with pride, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes that made your cheeks flush with embarrassment.
You instinctively looked away, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Negan noticed your discomfort and quickly moved to sit beside you on the bed. His large hand rested on your thigh, his touch surprisingly gentle as he tried to reassure you. "Hey, shh, it's okay, baby. Don't be embarrassed. We loved every second of it. You were incredible," he said, his tone softer now, almost tender.
Joel, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. His voice was calm and steady, a stark contrast to Negan's playful demeanor. "I'll go tell your dad you're taking a nap. I'll say you did a good job with helping me and got tired." He gave you a small, reassuring smile and a wink before standing up and heading toward the door.
ཐི♡ཋྀ — summary; Negan can’t seem to tell you no, even when you’re out together (Negan Smith x fem!reader)
ཐི♡ཋྀ — warnings; established relationship, reader is negan’s girlfriend and not one of his wives, they fuck on the way home from a ‘run’, think of it as you will, smut, minors do not interact!!!, unprotected p in v, creampie (can’t help myself, sorry), car sex obvs, somewhat soft!negan at points??, but that’s it?
ཐི♡ཋྀ — word count; 1,664 words
ཐི♡ཋྀ — a/n; sound like i’m full of excuses on being an unreliable writer, but i did infact eat stovies instead of writing this on time. it’s 5am, my bad
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Negan had told you no to going out with him over and over, but you didn’t listen. you insisted on him taking you out on the run.
but on the drive back to the Sanctuary, you proved to him exactly why he didn’t want to take you.
your hand rested on his thigh, unmoving at first as he continued the drive home, his eyes focused on the road.
and then your fingers started to move along his denim covered thigh, trailing closer and closer to what you truly wanted from him.
“behave”
he told while prying your hand away from his crotch, his tone unyielding and leaving no room for protests.
“please baby?”
you asked him, already reaching back across the car to trail your finger across the bulge in his jeans.
his hips shifted under your touch, subtly rocking against your hand as he continued to pretend to be focused on the road, even as his attention was making a 180 towards you.
“driving here, sweetheart”
Negan told, but his warning fell on deaf ears as you pushed your hand against his bulge, making a low groan tumble from his lips.
the thing was, Negan enjoyed this little back and forth, he always did, even if he put out that he didn’t.
he just wanted to see how far you’d go before stopping.
instead of pulling your hands away from him or making any effort to move away, you worked open his belt, humming to yourself as you tugged down his zipper.
“shit really?”
his eyes flicked between you and the road, catching glimpses of you as your hand slid under the waistband of his boxers to wrap around his cock.
a groan fell from his lips as you started to pump his cock, stroking him languidly as he hardened in your touch.
“we can keep going like this if you want”
you told, moving your hand along his length as he throbbed and leaked into your palm, making a smirk plaster itself across your face.
Negan, however, was already a groaning mess as your hand worked him to his full hardness, easily pulling his cock out from the confines of his boxers.
he looked down at your hand on his dick, the head of him leaking precum before your thumb slid across his slit, spreading his arousal and using it to ease each stroke of your hand.
“fuck.. you want fucked? fine”
his hand on the steering wheel easily turned the wheel until he was pulling over to the side of the road, and then putting the car in park.
you giggled as he leaned over and into your space, both hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply, his tongue plundering your mouth to move against yours.
a moan tore from your throat as your hand on his cock loosened its hold, easily losing yourself in the kiss until Negan pulled back with a smirk, whispering against your lips.
“backseat”
was all he said before you clambered into the backseat, giggling again as he followed after you and settled on his knees between your legs.
Negan kissed you again, his hands tugging down and off your jeans, and then your underwear, baring your core to his hungry gaze.
he groaned at the sight, using his knees to push your legs further apart.
“fuck you’re soaked”
you rocked your hips towards him, trying to pull him closer and to where you needed him, but he stayed in place admiring your cunt.
“that from teasing me?”
he asked, sliding his right hand along the back of your thigh, pushing your leg up and against your chest, opening you up more to him.
his eyes roamed shamelessly across your body, taking in every inch of you as you spoke again.
“can you actually fuck me now instead of just admiring?”
Negan chuckled, nodding to himself as he wrapped his own hand around his cock, stroking himself twice before positioning the head at your entrance.
the old car seat creaking beneath you as he pushed in, pulling a string of moans from your lips as he sank inch after inch into your warmth until he bottomed out.
“fuck she’s tight”
he commented, laying his forearms on the seats on either side of your head as his body caged yours in, hiding you from view of the window behind him.
both of you stayed like that for a long minute, Negan letting you adjust to his size until you nodded slowly, giving him the go ahead to start moving.
his hips pulled back until onto the head of him remained inside, before he was pushing forward, earning another moan as he started a steady pace.
your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer while he continued to rock into you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmured out.
“this what you wanted? fucked on the side of the road where anyone could see if they go by?”
you could only moan in response, your left hand tangling in his hair to pull him into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as he gave another sharp thrust.
the car rocked with the force of Negan’s thrusts, the head of his cock hitting that spot already while he pulled your leg high around his hip to deepen the angle.
“fuck Negan!”
he hummed at your moans, nipping at your bottom to lip to part your lips, letting your moans fall freely.
“all you had to do was ask”
Negan told, his hips rocking into you with more force while your walls rippled around him.
pleasure had already painted itself across your face, warmth spreading through your body and continuing to spread with every knock of Negan’s hips into yours.
the car was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, each thrust of his hips causing his thighs to smack against the backs of yours, along with your joint moans.
your wetness followed each lewd smack of skin on skin, causing his cock to drive into you with more and more ease as he went on.
“fuck..”
you mewled, clinging to Negan as he angled his hips, his knees digging into the plush material of the cars seat as he deepened his thrusts, hitting that one spot that had your moans growing louder and lewder.
he leaned in to kiss you again, smirking against your lips as you clung desperately to him.
“shit you close already?”
his tone was teasing, almost condescending if you looked deep enough, but you didn’t care, not now.
Negan grunted as your walls spasmed desperately around him, pulling him in deeper before another throaty groan pulled from his chest.
“cum for me sweetheart, make a mess”
the head of his cock hit that spot again as he murmured against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing you again, pushing his tongue into your mouth to move against yours.
every thrust he gave hit the spot with more precision than the last, sending your hurtling closer and closer.
a muffled moan of his name left you as your back arched up into him, teetering on the edge with a whine.
“let go, i’ve got you”
he murmured, pressing softer kisses across your jaw and throat while pleasure continued to buzz through your body.
Negan’s lips brushed against your pulse point, sucking at the skin until another moan left you.
“Negan.. i can’t, it’s..”
you cut yourself off as he hit the spot over and over, using all your body’s cues that he was pleasing you just right, another louder moan falling from your lips as he played your body just right.
“cum for me”
he told, nodding as your protests died on your tongue.
the car rocked and creaked as he gave another sharp thrust, another moan tumbling from your lips as he sent you over the edge with a soft cry of his name.
“that’s it, there she is”
his lips pressed to yours in another kiss, swallowing down the string of moans that tore from your throat as your walls spasmed around him, indicating your orgasm while your release.
Negan’s hips faltered, the tight grip you had on him causing him to lose his pace.
“that’s my girl”
he murmured against your lips, giving another deep thrust before he followed you over the edge.
your walls fluttered around him again, squeezing his cock just right as he buried himself to the hilt, rutting shallowly into your warmth as he spilled himself into you.
“take it baby, that’s it”
his voice was wrecked, his usual cocky bravado gone and now replaced with that primal need he only seemed to have for you in moments like these.
Negan rested his forehead against your shoulder, taking a deep breath while your fingers combed through his hair, the weight of your joint orgasm settling between you.
after a long minute, Negan spoke up.
“really couldn’t have waited?”
you rolled your eyes, pushing his face away while a smile tugged at your lips.
“shut up, as if you didn’t want that too”
he chuckled softly, unhooking your arms from around his neck before he was sitting back on his knees, reluctantly pulling out of you with a low groan.
his eyes fell to the apex of your thighs, watching some of his release spill from your warmth.
“always want it with you”
you leaned back on your elbows, watching as he tucked himself back into his jeans and worked down his belt, only leaning back over you to steal a kiss once his dick was comfortably hidden away from you once more.
“you gonna behave now?”
a teasing smile made its way across your face at his words, mischief dancing in your eyes and making Negan shake his head.
he helped you pull on your underwear and trousers, hiding away the mess between your thighs as you spoke, a teasing lilt to your words.
“no promises”
reblogs are highly appreciated !
if you want tagged for an upcoming kinktober fic, the taglist form can be found here. submissions for a day already posted will be ignored !!
that one lollipop chainsaw animation trend but it’s clouis!!
also gonna post these separately:
this was for an animation thingy I posted on tiktok :p I think my fav is negan clem, it was so fun to draw lucille:D (slight nod to that one negan cameo that never happened in the games)
