#nts fics

“Oh no, not at all. You spew that bullshit to everyone in this place, so it’s kind of hard to forget,” you replied sarcastically. 

“I need to fucking keep order in here, or else people will die.”

“Right. Like you are the only one able to keep them safe.”

“I am!” Negan yelled. “These sorry fucks wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He advanced towards you, his eyes never deviating from yours. 

“And who saved you?”

“Oh, fuck you.” Negan cornered you, resting Lucille against the wall. He stepped forward until his chest was pressed against yours; your back pressed against the wall. It always started this way. The argument starting as a yelling match and leading into angry, rough sex. 

“You need to realize that when it comes to me, I’m not just some person you saved.” Your eyes bore into his. You noticed the darkness in Negan’s eyes and even without a response from him, you knew where his mind had gone. There was a moment of silence, staring into each other’s eyes and reliving plenty of memories from the past. You both were breathing heavy and with your back against the wall and Negan mere inches away from your face, anger soon turned into lust. 

All of a sudden, Negan’s strong hands grasped your hips and pulled you flush against him. You gasped and in that moment, Negan knew he had broken down your walls and you had forgotten just exactly what you two were arguing about.

“From the way you’re looking at me, I think it’s safe to say that you do fucking belong to me,” Negan grinned. 

“Oh, shut up!” You tried to squirm away from him, but instead, he turned you around with your back now facing him. Without hesitation, Negan gently pushed you against the wall and you put your hands out in front of you to brace the soft impact. He grabbed the waistband of your jeans and roughly tugged it down with your panties. You were exposed for Negan, waiting impatiently. 

“Negan…” You begged.

“Goddamn, I love the way you say my fucking name.” You could hear movement coming from behind you and you turned your head to take a look. You noticed Negan undoing the belt on his pants and pushing it down his legs. Suddenly, his erected member sprang free. You gasped, awaiting for what was to come. After the brief argument, you knew Negan was going to be rough and you couldn’t wait. 

Negan pushed his foot out to gently spread your legs, which you willingly did for him. Instead, you pressed your hands against the wall and bent over for him, pushing your backside eagerly against him. You could feel the warmth of his member pressing against you, pulsating and throbbing.

“You want this bad, don’t you?” Negan said, grasping his member and running the tip along your slick opening.

“Negan, please…”

“Wow, what a fucking treat! I didn’t even have to ask you to beg and here you are, already doing it.” 

“Negan!” You exclaimed impatiently. 

“Say it then…” He pushed his tip inside of you, which caused you to gasp, but before you could take control and push back against him to allow him to enter you completely, you felt him pull away. 

“Negan, stop playing around…”

“Oh, baby, I’m not. Say it. Who do you fucking belong to?” He continued the movements of running his tip along your slit, sliding into you just enough to give you a taste and then pulling back, leaving you empty, wet, impatient, and frustrated. 

“No,” you replied. “Just fuck me.” 

“Mm… Where are your manners, baby? You want it so bad, then fucking say it.” Negan suddenly slammed into you, feeling your tight walls surround his length, but before either of you could enjoy it, he pulled away. You let out a frustrated sound and suddenly turned around to face him. 

Negan was smirking, slowly stroking his length as his eyes raked over your exposed lower half. Instead, you kicked away your jeans and removed your shirt and bra. Negan couldn’t help but watch you undress, feeling himself leaking at the sight of you. 

“You are goddamn beautiful,” he commented.

You didn’t reply. Instead, you pushed him back against the bed, watching the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed and ultimately falling back. 

“I get a show and you are going to ride me? Fuck me!” Negan grinned, removing his white shirt and tossing it over the bed. 

“Shut up,” you said. “You belong to me.”

Negan widened his eyes. The sudden urge to take control appeared and he pulled you to him, your body falling on top of his. You tried to grab his hands to place above his head, but he wasn’t letting up. Instead, he rolled over and placed himself between your legs while grasping your wrists with one hand and pressing them on the bed above your head. 

“I think you’re mistaken. For the amount of times you’ve been on your knees for me, I’d say you belong to me,” Negan growled. With his free hand, he reached down and let his fingertips run across your wet slit. You gasped, your body shuddering for more contact. 

“It’s all for show,” you retaliated. “At the end of the day, Negan, we both know you would do anything for me.” You stared deeply into his eyes, feeling his fingertips dance across your wet heat. 

Negan’s eyes softened for a moment. While this was all fun and games, you and Negan both knew that there was love between you. Unspoken love, but love nonetheless. 

 At this point, you realized that it must’ve been the doctor who told him about the test. Your subconscious suggested that perhaps it was Amber, since she had probably been in here not long ago with his dinner tray. However, your brain insisted that Trixie had been truthful when she said she was done with Amber. Besides, Carson was terrified of Negan and would probably rat out anyone in the compound, especially if he thought it meant getting on the leader’s good side.

 “You really expect me to fucking believe that?” he growled through gritted teeth, hands leaving the desk as he straightened to his full, imposing height. “Fucking think again.”

 A spark of anger ignited in your gut at his immediate dismissal of your words. Part of you wanted to give some snarky reply or go off on him for his lack of trust in your honesty. How dare he jump to his own conclusions and refuse to consider that they were wrong! He wouldn’t be satisfied unless you gave the answer he was expecting, the only answer he currently saw as truth. The helpless realization hit that he’d rather you admit to fucking someone else behind his back instead of getting off his high horse and realizing that perhaps his assumptions about the situation were incorrect.

 You didn’t want to go down this rocky path again, thinking back to your last fight a week and a half ago, out in the gardens. Both of you had thrown words like knives without stopping to consider the repercussions, and you had come away from the experience emotionally bloody. You didn’t have the mental capacity to go through that again, and if every hurdle with Negan was going to lead to an all-out brawl that set your relationship back multiple paces...then was it even worth it?

 Shoulders sagging in defeat, all angry retorts died before they had a chance to leave your lips. If, despite the last few days, he could still think so lowly of you, then why even try to argue? He’d jumped to anger and accusations, rather than rationally asking for your side of the story, and that hurt. God, you were so sick of situations with him leading to you feeling hurt. No one deserved to feel unheard and misunderstood by someone they cared about, and you’d be damned if you fell into his trap by even continuing this conversation.

 Looking him square in the eye, with what was hopefully a neutral expression, you deadpanned, “I told you the truth. Whether you choose to believe me or not is up to you.”

 Turning for the door, you made it two steps before his voice barked out your name.

 “I didn’t fucking say you could leave!”

 Twisting your upper body so that you could glance at him over your shoulder, it took everything in you to stay calm, to not fight fire with more fire. Instead, you wanted to douse the flames of the fight before they could truly be ignited.

 With a wave of your hand towards the box on the desk, you said, “If that’s what you really think of me, then we’re done here.”

 And with that, you turned and walked out the door. Half expecting him to say something else or come out in the hall and demand you turn back around, you weren’t sure if it was relief or despair that cause a loud sigh to leave your lips, when all that came from behind was silence.

 ~  ~ ~  ~  ~

 Focused on getting back to your room, which was a safe space away from any prying eyes and ears, you speed-walked down to the third floor. You vaguely acknowledged passing Maria in the hall; she said your name as you walked by, as if she wanted to stop and have a conversation, but you ignored her and just kept walking. You didn’t have the energy to deal with anyone right now and just wanted to be alone. Your silent dismissal was probably rude, but you didn’t overly care at the moment, instead making a mental note to apologize to her later.

 When you were inside the small bedroom, with the door closed and locked, it felt as though you were finally able to breathe. This tiny space had become your own personal sanctuary within the Sanctuary, and for the umpteenth time since your interactions with Negan first began, you were beyond glad to be assigned a single room with no bunk mates.

 Refusing to just sit and dwell on the situation until you worked yourself into a panic or flood of tears, you instead grabbed your notepad and flopped down on the bed. Laying on your stomach with chin propped on the pillow, you tried to focus on the meal plan and kitchen job assignments you had started organizing for next week. However, you barely made it through Monday before the words turned blurry on the page and you were blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. When one of the bastards escaped, rolling down your cheek and plopping onto the lumpy pillow, you cursed before throwing the pencil and notepad onto the floor and turning over onto your back on the mattress.

 Staring up at the ceiling, you started counting the tiles, noting a tiny crack in one that was two rows down and three columns over from the door. After you finished tallying up all of them, you did so again, and again. You were on your fourth round, the simple task just mundane and simple enough to calm your mind, when you were startled by a light knock on the door.

 Rather than respond, you kept counting, hoping that whoever it was would take the hint and leave. You had just started the exciting game of Tile Count for the fifth time when the knock came again, this time a bit more insistent. The hair raising on the back of your neck at the first light tapping had already given away who was on the other side, and you refused to fight anymore with the probably still pissed-off man standing outside your room.

 “Go away!” you called, irritated that the noise had caused you to lose your place, and starting back at the corner from zero.

 There was a long silence, so long that you started to think perhaps he had actually listened, when his voice came, deep and slightly muffled by the door.

“We need to talk, doll.”

 The locked door as a barrier made you brave enough to flippantly reply, just loud enough for him to hear, “Why? You apparently think you know everything already.”

 Another long silence. You had to admit, that was surprising. You had expected his reaction to a comment like that to be anger and a demand for you to open the door immediately. In fact, you could almost feel him struggling to keep his cool, which gave you a small zing of satisfaction.

 “Doll, are you gonna let me in or…”

 Sitting up on the bed, the tile game forgotten, you fired back, “Or what?”

 You ignored your brain and subconscious, both of whom were looking at you with exasperated expressions. This might not be the most productive of interactions, but hey, you had tried to explain things to him in his office, and he hadn’t wanted to listen. Why should you want to listen now?

 “If you don’t open the door, then we’ll just have to talk about it like this,” he replied, voice still surprisingly calm and collected.

 You paused and thought about that for a moment. Would he really discuss something like that out in the hall, where anyone could hear? Your brain and subconscious quickly answered at the same time with, Of course he would!

 Giving a heavy sigh, you got up off the bed and walked across the room, dragging your feet with every step. You really would’ve preferred he give up and leave, because letting him in this room would give him a chance to either hurt you further or get back in your good graces. At this point, you didn’t know which was preferable. Did you want him to push you further away or bring you in closer? And what the fuck did it say about this “relationship” that you didn’t know the answer to that question?

 Unfortunately, you knew that Negan wasn’t going anywhere, stubborn as he was, so with a deep breath for courage, you threw open the door and tried to give him your best neutral stare. It was a bit difficult, once you saw the look on his face. The heat you had expected to see in his eyes wasn’t there; instead, his face looked drawn and, dare you say it, almost ashamed. No, that couldn’t be right. It must just be the glare from the overhead lights and your own buried hope that was causing you to see things that weren’t there.

 “What do you want?” you asked, trying to mimic his cool and collected tone.

 “I want to talk, doll,” he replied, staring back and waiting patiently for you to decide what would happen next.

 Holding eye contact in silence for a long moment, you finally gave a sigh and stepped back, letting him in. He was dressed in a simple, navy blue t-shirt and dark grey pants, and you got a lungful of his unique cedar and spice smell as he walked past. Once the door was firmly closed, you turned and leaned back against the smooth wood, putting both hands on your hips and lifting an eyebrow at him expectantly.

 When all you got in response was him looking everywhere in the room but at you, impatience caused your foot to tap and your mouth to give a slightly sarcastic, “I thought you wanted to talk?”

 Finally looking over at you, he took in your body posture and facial expression, mouth tightening as he ran a gloveless hand down over his beard. Seeing his bare skin made you realize that he also hadn’t brought Lucille with him, which caused a jolt of surprise. He took that bat everywhere, and you had to wonder how distracted he must’ve been, to forget something so important.

 “Damnit, doll. I’m trying to fucking apologize!” he growled, hands now stuffed in his pants pockets.

 Both eyebrows raised this time, as you gave him a quick look of surprise before schooling your features. “Well, then do it.”

 While part of you was floored that he hadn’t come here to continue fighting, another part of you wasn’t ready to dole out brownie points just because he was trying to apologize. After the things he had just accused you of in his office, trying wasn’t going to be good enough.

 He gave a sigh and gestured nervously with his hands, before saying, “Perhaps I was...a little hasty with my judgments...regarding the situation.”

 You huffed out a humorless laugh at his stumbling efforts to say that he was wrong. “A little hasty?”

 He chewed on his lower lip while looking at you with a gaze dulled by discomfort and guilt. When you didn’t offer any more support, just crossed your arms over your chest and stared back expectantly, his eyes dropped to the floor.

 “I’m sorry, doll. I shouldn’t have said what I did,” he mumbled in a voice so low that you strained to hear. You opened your mouth to respond, but he beat you to the punch by adding, “I don’t want this to be a repeat of last time. I don’t want to almost fucking lose you again.”

 His words were like a punch to the gut, and you were glad he was still looking downwards and so didn’t see your mouth hanging open as you stared at him with wide-eyed shock. While his words didn’t totally wipe the slate clean, you knew what they had cost him to say. A straightforward apology from a man such as Negan was about as common as a walker turning vegetarian. You took a tentative step towards him, then another. Reaching out, you laid a gentle hand on his bicep, causing his gaze to finally rise and lock onto yours.

 Giving a tentative smile, you whispered, “Apology accepted.”

 The tight lines around his mouth visibly relaxed, as his jaw unclenched and shoulders slightly dropped some of their previous tension. You stared at one another, both seemingly uncertain what to say or do next. Trying to lighten the mood a bit, you joked, “Did we actually just make some progress and communicate like semi-rational adults?”

 He gave a light chuckle and raised his hand to cup your jaw, the calloused thumb rubbing back and forth across your lower lip. “I’d say we did, doll. I’m about as fucking surprised as you are.”

 His eyes became a bit more focused and intense, as if he was trying to read your mind. You had a split second to think oh no before he added, “I still need to know what happened though, and what you were doing with that pregnancy test. I’m willing to hear your side of the story and forget what Carson told me, but I need you to be fucking honest with me.”

 Shit. You didn’t want to backtrack, not after how well things were going and the steps forward that were being made between the two of you. But you also couldn’t break your promise to Trixie, not when she had placed her trust in you.

 You knew Negan saw the conflicting emotions and panic written all over your face, because his hand dropped and he gave a warning growl of, “Doll...”

 Muttering a curse that made his eyebrows raise in surprise at your vehemence, you dropped your hand from his arm and took a couple steps back, needing space to get your thoughts together. Gazing at him imploringly, you replied, “I want to tell you, but I made a promise.”

 You could see the first sparks of anger in that tawny gaze, and so hurried on. “Someone came to me, in confidence, and asked for my help. I can’t tell you who she is, but I will say that it wasn’t one of your wives. She thought she might be pregnant and didn’t want to cause a fuss if it wasn’t true. She didn’t even want the potential father to know unless she was certain.”

 You took a breath and analyzed Negan’s reactions to your words so far. His head was cocked slightly to the side and he remained silent. Satisfied that you had his attention, and that he was still calm and willing to listen, at least for now, you continued.

 “I wanted to help, so I asked Carson for a test, that way he wouldn’t know who it was really for. I told him it was for someone else, but it was obvious he didn’t believe me. Not that I cared much at the time-” your eyes rolled upwards in annoyance, “-though I should’ve guessed he’d run to you the first chance he got. But the test was negative, thank god. And it wasn’t that she was being unsafe; she assured me that they were using condoms, and it was probably just stress that messed up her cycle and caused her to panic. The situation is handled, Negan, I promise. I was there when she took the test, and I even saw the negative results. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

 He studied you, searching your face as if looking for clues to fill in the gaps you had left. You knew that he didn’t appreciate having information withheld, and hoped he wouldn’t take your unwillingness to reveal Trixie’s identity as a personal offense.

 “I hope you’re fucking sure about that. Because if it becomes an issue for me down the line, I’m gonna be fucking pissed, doll.”

 Bringing up your chin and using your no-nonsense voice, you replied, “I said it’s handled. Which means it’s handled.”

 Hazel eyes widened in surprise. “When did you get so damn authoritative?”

 “When I started hanging around you too much.”

 Giving a smirk and genuine laugh that let you know he wasn’t upset, Negan started towards you. You wanted to smirk in return, but instead backed up, maintaining the gap between your bodies.

 “I’m still mad at you,” you warned.

 “Why, doll? I fucking apologized, didn’t I?”

 Just when he was about to reach out and wrap his arm around your waist, you sidestepped and scurried past him, stopping on the opposite side of the room, near the bed. “I want to know why you automatically assumed the pregnancy test was mine.”

 The playful smirk that had been on his face dimmed, as he realized he wasn’t totally out of the clear. “I was being stupid, doll.”

 “Stupid how?” You knew the intelligent thing to do would be to let the topic go. He had apologized and admitted to being wrong, but you still felt the zing of hurt from earlier, when he had believed you were sleeping with someone else behind his back.

 He sighed and grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “persistent woman,” before saying, “When Carson told me you wanted a pregnancy test, my mind automatically jumped to the other day in the kitchen. Benny boy was being awfully fucking protective of you, and I’ll admit my thoughts went in a direction that had me stewing by the time you came to my office.”

 Not this again, you thought. You didn’t expect Negan and Ben to ever be the best of buds, but the pissing contest Negan had with someone who had been nothing but a supportive friend to you needed to stop. The easiest response would be to tell him that it wasn’t you he had to worry about Ben getting too close to, but knew it wasn’t your place to discuss Ben’s potential love life. Negan needed to trust you, because you weren’t going to keep defending against something that wasn’t even close to the truth.

 This time it was you who moved forward, coming to a stop right in front of the tense man who was awaiting your reaction. Reaching up, you took his face between your hands, the scratch of his beard against your palms as you locked eyes with him from a distance of mere inches.

 “I’m only gonna tell you this once more, so I need you to really hear me. Ben and I are friends. We’ve never been more than that, nor will we ever be more than that. My love for him is 100% platonic, and vice versa.”

 His brows furrowed, and he reminded you of a petulant child, though you’d never say that aloud, as he questioned, “You love him?”

 You’d swear his voice held a note of jealousy at the idea of you loving someone. No, that couldn’t be right...could it? Sure, you and him were taking steps towards what might be some form of a relationship, but that topic was nowhere on the agenda for him. You were too busy watching Negan’s face to see the exasperated look your subconscious and brain shared, as if they both wanted to throttle you for being in denial.

 “As a friend, yes. I love him emotionally and platonically, but not romantically or sexually. And Ben has never given me cause to believe it’s any different for him. He cares about me, so of course he’s protective...just as I’m protective of him. And he’s not going anywhere, so I need you to accept that he’s a part of my life, and that his friendship makes me happy.”

 Your hands dropped from his face to rub along his shoulders; you could see the wheels spinning as he processed this information, and hoped that the words were finally sinking in. You didn’t want two people who you cared deeply about to be at odds with one another, and you refused to be put in a position where you felt like you had to choose your friendship with Ben versus your...whatever this was...with Negan.

 He finally gave a nod of affirmation, which caused you to exhale the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. His large hands rubbed up and down your sides, and you weren’t sure if his actions were meant to soothe you or himself.

 “You’re right, doll, I misread the situation. I saw that test and lost my shit without even fucking considering there was another possible explanation. And when I thought of you being with someone else, I…” his words dropped off into silence.

 You made a shushing noise and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, standing up on tiptoes and tilting your head to brush his lips with your own. He took the hint and pulled you in close, so that the length of your body was pressed against his.

 “You still mad at me, doll?” he murmured into your mouth.

 You pulled back and gave a saucy smile. “Only if you don’t use that bed to show me how sorry you really are.”

 The look he gave in response caused a flutter of butterflies in your stomach, which quickly shot lower and became a deep, pulsing flutter of an entirely different nature. He caught your mouth in a deep kiss and pushed forward, causing you to walk backwards the couple steps needed before the edge of the mattress bumped into the back of your thighs. You were breathing heavily by the time he lifted his head, and it took a couple seconds for the hazy cloud of lust to lift enough for you to realize his gaze was distracted by something off to the side.

 Glancing in the same direction, you saw the pile of condoms laying on your bedside table. They were the ones you had stolen out of the drawer in his bedroom this morning, and suddenly you were patting yourself on the back for thinking ahead.

 This time his lips landed on the side of your neck, goosebumps erupting along your arms as he sucked gently at where the sensitive flesh sloped down to meet your shoulder. “First you take coconut oil out of the kitchen, now you’re stealing condoms from my bedroom,” he said between kisses and nips to your flesh. “You’re outta line, doll.”

 His hand came up to cup a breast through your shirt, at the same time he whispered in your ear, “Now, how do you think I should punish this insubordination?”

 You could only moan in response and gasp out his name, before falling back onto the bed and pulling him down with you.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Kat didn’t mean to tell Negan, but in a fit jealousy, it just slipped out. Kat used to be the youngest wife before Amber, but then Amber came and stole all of Negan’s attention. He didn’t even try to split himself evenly among them anymore. The other girls were relieved, because they saw this as a job, but Kat being a fool (at least she was aware of being a fool) loved Negan. And then Amber had to go and cheat on Negan as soon as he started going back to other wives, and Kat hated it.

Now Kat felt even more horrible about it, though, than when she hated Amber. Maybe now Amber would be calm enough to accept Kat’s apology. With a sigh, Kat climbed out of bed, abandoning her book, and left for the parlor.

She was right to assume that they were drinking, but rather than wine, they went straight for beer instead. They were all sitting in a circle, Michaela and Amber on the couch, Tanya and Frankie sitting across from them. All of the wives looked different from each other as Negan liked a variety from his women. Looking at them now, Kat could see the appeal from Frankie the masseuse and Amber’s sweetness and Tanya thriving off being used and abused and Michaela’s beautifully curvaceous body. And Kat was jealous because she couldn’t offer him any of that. All she had was her love, but he couldn’t know that she loved him. He’d sneer, well maybe he wouldn’t, but there was no way he could love her when there were these beautiful women. Kat felt small, and briefly wondered what he could see in her compared to them.

Before she allowed her mind to wander any further, she dragged her eyes away from the women and focused on the glass coffee table in the center of the parlor. On it were several beer bottles, but one was empty and on its side. Blinking, Kat addressed the parlor at large when she asked, “You’re playing Spin the Bottle?”

Suddenly all eyes were on her, and they were anything but friendly – especially Amber’s daggers for eyes, brimming with tears and red-rimmed from both the tears and the booze. There would be no apology tonight. Michaela, out of all of them, was the least resentful, though; Kat shuddered to think why, consumed with the fear that Michaela knew that Kat loved Negan. Until Michaela brought it up, though, Kat would accept her indifference warily. As it is, Michaela was the one to finally respond to Kat. “We’re using the bottle in that way, except instead of kissing, we’re playing Truth or Dare.”

“Oh.” Kat didn’t bother to ask why she wasn’t invited. Suddenly, Kat noticed the empty tray on the table with the stems from fruit left over. It seems they had also deliberately neglected to call her to dinner with them; now that really irked Kat. Feeling a little awkward, Kat was unsure of what to say.

Taking pity on Kat, Michaela cautiously offered, “Would you like to play?” The other wives immediately shot Michaela a look of reproach, making it clear to Kat that she was unwanted.

That didn’t stop Kat from grasping the tentative olive-branch anyway. She gladly accepted Michaela’s offer, “Sure.” And there the awkwardness grew when Kat had to squeeze in on the couch. Michaela was the barrier between Amber and Kat, and all Kat could hope for is that that would be enough.

Once she was seated, Frankie set down her beer and cleared her throat loudly. “Alright, let’s play.” Using a lot of force, Frankie spun the bottle, and they all anxiously watched it spin.

Fingering the hem of her black dress, Kat was well aware that the laughter she had heard in her bedroom was now nonexistent all because of her. It gave her a sour taste formed in her mouth. “Is there anymore beer?” She casually asked, wondering when the bottle would finally stop spinning.

“No,” came Amber’s resounding answer, and Kat bit her lip.  

Then Kat noticed that Sherry was missing. “Did Negan summon Sherry for the night or did she finally volunteer her time?” The way the system worked is that unless Negan specifically requested a certain wife, the wives would rotate among each other to spend time with Negan. For Kat, it was a dangerous game to play, to walk a balance so that they wouldn’t know just how willing she was to be with Negan. For Sherry to go to Negan on her own terms now, though, after everything, that would mean she had finally submitted. And that would mean Kat wouldn’t see much of Negan for a long, long time.

“Actually,” Tanya began, a tremor of unsureness in her voice, “We haven’t seen Sherry much today.” Now Frankie shot a look of reproach at Tanya, and her mouth closed with an audible click of her teeth.

Kat’s brow creased with concern. She thought Sherry had been getting better. Wherever she was now, this couldn’t bode well, not that Kat would complain. That small part of her – the part that learned to kill to survive and had enjoyed doing it, the part that conveniently dropped hints to Negan about Amber’s infidelity – hoped Sherry would be out of the way so that she could have Negan to herself. Kat would do anything to have Negan be hers, and that meant he brought out the worst in her. “That still means someone has to go to Negan, though.”

The wives shared looks with each other, a little uneasy. When Negan came back, the Sanctuary had turned into a hive of activity. The prisoner Daryl had escaped, there was a new prisoner, and Fat Joey was dead. Losing Sherry might push Negan over the edge. Besides, he might blame them for not looking out for Sherry or not coming to him sooner.

Finally, the silence was broken by Frankie. “Looks like the bottle chose you, Kat.” It was true. The mouth of the bottle pointed squarely at Kat’s lap, at knee level. “So, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Kat shrugged. She’d rather not admit truth if that meant revealing her love for Negan.

Frankie took a dainty sip of her beer, and then smirked. Suddenly, Kat wasn’t so sure if she should have played this game at all. “Well, since you brought it up, why don’t you go suck up to Negan some more and rat out Sherry, now. It comes so naturally to you after all.”

Immediately, Kat’s cheeks flushed red, but rather from shame, from anger. Before she could retort, though, Amber joined in. “Frankie’s right.” The blonde girl stood and wobbled unsteadily on her feet. She swayed and stumbled drunkenly towards Kat, and jabbed her finger in face. “You’re a kiss-ass,” she slurred lightly, “a brown-noser! A fucking sycophant bitch for that psycho asshole!”

Now, Kat could handle Amber smearing her name in the mud. Kat knew she was a horrible person, she knew Amber had a right to be upset. The girl was drunk, too, and Amber never drinks, so this was hitting her hard. But she felt Amber had no place to insult Negan. That crossed a line for Kat. She was on her feet before she knew it. “Fuck you, Amber,” she snapped. “If you don’t want to be with Negan then leave. You’re here by choice. He’s your husband, and if you hadn’t fucked Mark, then Mark’s face wouldn’t be fucked up!”

At that, Amber broke. She slapped Kat across the face while simultaneously bellowing out a broken sob, and it took everything in Kat not retaliate. Negan hated when his wives fought. Catty shit he could handle, but cat fights were a big no-no. Amber only slapped Kat once anyway before she tripped over herself to go to her room, fat tears streaming down her face, wailing loudly. Michaela followed to comfort her, but Frankie and Tanya stood and circled Kat like vultures. “Just go, Kat,” Frankie started in a low and menacing tone, “You got what you wanted. Negan is all yours.”

Cupping her stinging cheek, Kat leveled her gaze with Frankie. Frankie was the unofficial leader of the wives, and often she and Kat had disputes over Negan because Kat had issues with sharing. Hearing Frankie say that, though, Kat smiled maliciously. “You’re right. He’s mine.” And with that, Kat left for her husband, feeling marginally better.

~

When Kat slipped into Negan’s bedroom, she could hear the shower running, and she smiled happily now. She debated whether or not she should join him, but decided against it. Considering how upset he was earlier, she figured that he should use the shower to relax. Besides that, she was hungry, and Negan had a plate of sandwiches on his coffee table that was calling Kat’s name. Sitting on the couch and munching a sandwich, Amber’s words played in Kat’s head like a skipping record, over and over again.

Fucking sycophant bitch.

Fucking sycophant bitch.

Fucking sycophant bitch.

Kat believed it. Since the beginning, Kat has done whatever was necessary to survive – kill, steal, didn’t matter. To Kat, her survival was everything, everyone else be damned. Then the Saviors formed, and Kat was very tempted to join so that she could have extra perks. She was skilled enough to survive, she could do the job. But then she heard about Negan forming a harem, and Kat immediately ‘auditioned’ and got in the exclusive club.

Falling in love with Negan was never part of the plan, but it happened anyway. For one, the sex was fantastic. That was obvious enough. But then there were Negan’s tender moments. He talked to Kat a lot, told her things that he made her promise not to tell the others. Eyeing the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire in the armchair across from her, Kat remembered that discussion about Lucille’s namesake vividly. And the confessions about how he didn’t enjoy the killing, but made himself like it. Kat could relate considering how she would do – and has done – anything to survive. There was more to Negan than that psycho façade he had to put on, and Kat fell so hard for it.

The problem was, she doubted he’d ever feel the same. He knew about Kat’s life from before, and Kat even told him about the shitty things she’s done in this new world. None of it phased him, and he didn’t brush it off. But his façade wouldn’t allow him to just drop his wives, especially not now with what he’s done to Mark and Dwight. Kat sighed, and went to his scotch stash to pour herself a shot. Now that she had apparently usurped the other wives, things were going to be more difficult now.

“Well isn’t this a nice fucking surprise!” Kat whipped around, clutching a full glass of scotch to her chin. There was Negan, fresh from the shower, stark naked. Not that it was anything Kat hadn’t seen before, but God, he is such a beautiful sight how he is. Rivulets of water dripped down his chest, clinging to his tanned skin and beading in his thick, black body hair like dewdrops on a spider web. He was toweling his hair dry, both arms raised up, head slightly tipped forward, and the pose was reminiscent of every underwear model poster Kat had ever seen. The best part was, though, that there was no underwear. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his sex, nestled in a nest of black curls, and her throat went dry as her own sex was simultaneously flooded with arousal.

“Go ahead and eye-fuck me, Kat, I don’t mind.” Negan smirked and wrapped the towel around his neck. All of his black tattoos were on display, and his muscles were flexing beautifully, so Kat continued to eye-fuck him freely. “I’ve had a long fucking day,” Negan continued, walking towards her confidently, not bothering to cover anything. “And I could use wonderful fucking company like yours, Kitty-Kat.” He took the glass of scotch from her, and kissed her sensually before he took a gulp.

Appreciatively, Kat watched his Adam’s apple bob before she finally dragged her eyes back up to his again. She licked her lips in memory of their kiss, and then smiled at him softly. “Hey Daddy,” she placed her hands on his chest, rubbing up and down, “what would you like me to do to help you feel better?”

Immediately, he hummed appreciatively, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. It was his turn to eye-fuck her. “Oh, I can fucking think of several things.” His head dipped forward to kiss her again, but then he paused, eyeing her critically now. Negan set the empty glass down, and gently cupped her chin. “What the shit?”

Her eyes went round, and she stilled under his touch. There was a dark look in his eye that promised trouble and vengeance. She waited for him to explain, not necessarily afraid for herself. He never laid a finger on them that they couldn’t say ‘no’ to if they wanted.

Sure enough, Negan was muttering darkly again, practically hissing and spitting like a cat that had its tail stepped on. “What the shit is this? What the hell, Kat? Who the fuck laid a damn hand on you?” Ever so gently he brushed his thumb over Kat’s cheek, and she drew back tenderly.

Evidently, Amber slapped her hard enough to leave a mark. Kat frowned, and turned her face away from him, ducking her head. “I’m sorry, Negan. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“No, Kat,” Negan started sternly, “No. You know that no one can lay their hands on any of my wives, and I can’t fucking stand violence against women. You tell me who it fucking is. I will beat the holy hell out of them – and I don’t even need Lucille to do it. What the fuck happened?”

Sighing, Kat looked back at Negan. He had his jaw clenched, brows knitted together, and despite it being an expression of his fury, Kat still thought that it was a lovely face to sit on. She reached up and tenderly traced her fingers over his smooth chin and up his jaw, marveling at how cute he was still without his beard. The other wives had been displeased when he came back today with this baby face, but Kat didn’t care. He was such a handsome man no matter what. “Negan, do you think I’m a sycophant?”

“Fuck no,” he scoffed without missing a beat. “That’s what Fat Joey is – was. What Fat Joey was. Not you. Dwight is a lackey. I own everyone here like fucking cattle. Simon is my right-hand man, but you’re my wife. My wives are loyal. Or they’re supposed to fucking be. That’s all I ask for.” He tilted his head at her. “What the fuck are you asking me that stupid shit for anyway? What the hell happened, Kat, and don’t make me have to ask you a third time.”

“Amber slapped me and called me that for telling you about her infidelity,” Kat told him flatly, “and now Sherry’s missing, and they’re making me tell you that since apparently they think all I do is kiss your ass.” Looking up at him, Kat urgently assured him, “But it’s more than that, I promise you, it’s,” she choked on her words and switched tactics, “Sherry’s missing. We haven’t seen her since right before you left. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner.”

For a moment, Negan was quiet, and then he was swearing up a storm. He stepped away from her, marching up and down his room, tossing his towel to the floor with frustration. Kat listened to him rant, not moving an inch, just observing quietly.

“Fucking Sherry! Shit, shit, shit. Why’d she have to do this to me? Always making things so damn difficult, that bitch. After all the shit I do for her, and this is how she fucking treats me! No damn respect! Fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking fuck! Damn it!” If he had had Lucille in his grip he would’ve slammed her down to vent his pent-up frustration.

Just as suddenly, though, he changed his tune, murmuring mostly to himself. It helped him plan to pace and think out loud, and he trusted Kat enough to not go run her mouth. “Dwighty Boy was not involved. He was with me in Alexandria. There’s no way he could’ve know.  Maybe Daryl used her to escape, took him with her. Can’t have her spilling secrets to Rick. Or maybe she just fucking left. Shit. I’ll have to let Dwight out of the cell and send him after her. Only he would know where the fuck she got off to, only he could convince her to come back. And if he doesn’t come back, I’ll find them both and kill them. This is what’s gonna prove that Dwight is loyal and can be trusted as a lieutenant, that he can run the replacement outpost when we set that shit up. That’s what I’ll fucking do.”

Then Negan stopped, and turned on his heel to face Kat again. He shook his head at her, leaning back on his heels. “Amber slapped you, huh, Kitty Kat? Did you beat her ass for it?”

“No. She was drunk and upset, so I…” Kat trailed off and shrugged. Her eyes dropped down to his sex again, and she swore that she saw it twitch. Was he getting hard at the idea of her and Amber fighting? She glanced back up at his eyes again, not missing that heated look.  

He shook his head from side to side, gnawing at his bottom lip. Negan leaned back against his bed, hands propping himself on the mattress. Again, he was eye-fucking her. Looks like Kat was going to get her time with Negan before he’d finally let Dwight out of his cell. Lifting one hand imperiously, he crooked his fingers in a come-hither motion without saying a word.

Obediently, Kat moved to him and stood between his outspread legs. “Such a good girl all for me, Kitty Kat,” Negan began, and smiled at her crookedly. “I knew there was a reason you were always my favorite fucking wife.”

At his praise, Kat pressed her thighs together, seeking relief. “Daddy,” she simpered happily, “let me prove to you how good I am.”

“That’s what I like to fucking hear,” Negan crowed proudly, and reached between his legs to grasp at himself. “Yeah? You gonna strip yourself down and put on a damn good show for Daddy? You gonna get on your knees and worship Daddy’s big cock?” He shook his cock for emphasis, and it was already at half-mast without her even having to touch him or flash her tits. Kat flushed with pride, remembering how Negan said that just her talking in this sex-voice could get him hard.

“Oh, yeah, Daddy,” Kat cooed with a small grin. “You know I love – to please you, Daddy.” She had nearly slipped up, but seamlessly recovered. Eagerly, she twisted around. Her hair was swept aside and she tugged ever so slowly at her zipper until inch by inch of her back was showed. Once the zipper was completely undone, resting between the two dimples above her rear, Kat glanced over her shoulder at him and playfully shook her hips. Negan chuckled at her, his hand periodically squeezing his cock at he watched her, enraptured.

Pleased with herself, Kat turned back around and let the black dress drop to the floor. Now she was standing in her blue lingerie, and the panties were next to nothing, crotchless, but that’s not visible from the back. Negan was in for a surprise when she turned around. Her bra, however, would have to go first. The bra unhooked in the front, so when she undid it and pulled her arms loose, she tossed it away, and it caught on Lucille’s barbed wire.

At that Negan practically growled, “Fuck, Kitty-Kat, you know how I love to see my ladies in pretty, lacy things. You’re so cock-hardening, and now even my Lucille is wearing a little something for me. Damn, I didn’t know she looked good in blue, too.”

“Oh, if you like that, then you’ll love this, Daddy.” Twirling her hair around her finger, Kat giggled and finally faced him again. Her breasts were bare, nipples already hardened into buds in sweet anticipation and her sex was already dripping as well, her arousal clearly visible.

Well, Kat wasn’t wrong. At the sight of her, Negan instantly groaned and started moving his hand up and down his shaft. His other hand come up and cupped his balls, rolling them in his calloused palm. Christ, Negan touching himself was one of the sexiest things Kat had ever seen, and she’d never get used it. She hoped she never would. “Shit, Kitty Kat, I want you to leave those panties and the heels on when you climb on my dick tonight. Alright, Kitty?

“Yes, Daddy,” Kat purred as she sunk down to her knees and crawled between Negan’s legs, hooking his ankles around her hips. “But first I wanna taste Daddy’s big, juicy cock.” She peeled his fingers away from his cock and balls, pushing his hands down on the mattress on either side of his hips. Despite all their little roleplaying, Kat was never one to be totally submissive, and Negan loved it. Kat always took as much as she gave.

Settling back comfortably, Negan watched as Kat gripped his thighs with her hands and pushed his legs even further apart. Her mouth dropped down and littered his thighs with suckling kisses, leaving hickeys in its wake. The tip of Kat’s nose trailed over the ‘v’ of his hips after the drag of her lips. Kat’s breath was damp and warm on his sex, a ghost of what her mouth would feel like, and Negan couldn’t wait. Kat loved to tease as much as Negan did, but Kat had infinitely more patience than him. Negan would always get needy and whiney first when he was with Kat, but that’s just because she knew exactly how to get him going with the simplest of touches. “Come on, Kitty Kat,” Negan cajoled her, “I’ve had a rough damn day. Don’t be so fucking mean to me. Daddy doesn’t deserve that from his Kitty Kat. Be fucking sweet for Daddy.”

“Oh, I know Daddy, don’t worry.” Her nails bit into his skin a bit, warning him to be patient. She soothed what pain their might have been with sweet kisses. “I’ll be sweet for you, Daddy, because you’re always so sweet for me.” And to prove her point, she tongued the slit of his dick, swiping away the pre-cum beaded there. She moaned at the flavor, playing it up, because really Negan’s come was bitter, but still better tasting than most come Kat has tried. Kat licked at him again, and Negan head dropped back. “So fucking juicy, Daddy.”

Then Kat’s mouth was chasing Negan’s dick into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head. The head of his cock was dragged over her kiss-swollen lips as if she were applying lipstick, periodically flicking her tongue out to taste him. His pre-come glistened on her lips like a gloss, messy how he liked it. Her eyes met his, and his eyes were dark and smoldering with barely contained lust. “Fuck, just like that Kitty-Kat. Your mouth is fucking perfect and feels damn amazing. Shit.”

With a smile on her lips, she dragged her tongue all over him, as if she were painting a picture. Each stroke of her tongue alternated in pressure, sometimes so teasingly light as a feather and other times suckled at the sensitive under gland just right. Kat was playful with his cock, letting him beat it against her face, and nuzzling at it affectionately with her nose as she took his balls into her mouth for some worship, too. Still, she continued to tease, not yet giving him the suction or pressure that he needed. Negan was going to have to beg her for it if he wanted that.

And beg her he most certainly did. “Fuck me, Kitty Kat, please just suck on my dick. You’re busting my blue balls over here. I ought to fuck your pretty mouth until I punch your teeth down your throat with my dick for how badly you’re abusing me. Fuuuck, please, Kitty Kat.”

Anything but bothered by Negan’s nearly incoherent babbling, Kat finally gave him what he wanted and took his length into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down rhythmically. She had no problem taking his considerable length since she just loves fellatio. It’s an art to deep throat while fighting the gagging reflex and being able to catch all the come on one’s tongue.

Often, she laved it with little kitten licks, small and wet and soft. It was her specialty, and how Negan gave her her cute little nickname. Each wife had a different one. Sherry was ‘Puppy Dog’ since she acted like such a bitch, so it was more facetious than sincere. Amber was simply ‘Baby’ since she was the youngest and shyest. So on and so forth. Truthfully, Kat was grateful for the differentiation between them. Negan never got their pet names mixed up, and they all liked that.

Now, though, that got Kat thinking about what Amber called her.

Fucking sycophant bitch. Amber wants to call her that and a kiss-ass, well, then by all means Kat should prove her right.

Buckling down, Kat sucked Negan harder, and eased him all the way down until the bridge of her nose could nestle against his pubic bone. The maneuver had her eyes watering, but it was worth it when she swallowing and the head of Negan’s cock bumped against the back of her throat, choking her just right.

He had been grunting like a porn star so far, but at that he found his words again, “Oh, fuck, Kitty Kat, you know that makes me come, God! Fucking do that shit again! Fuck! I’m gonna come!”

So, she did it again, and again, and then finally Negan did shoot his creamy spurts down her throat, which she gulped down happily. Kat lived to please him. For all his shallow thrusting and the sinful noises that poured so quickly and easily from his lips, she was more and more aroused herself. She was glad her panties were crotchless, because otherwise, they’d be soaked.

Pulling away, his cock slid from her mouth, and Negan sighed. Kat licked her lips at him and hummed, “Fuck, Daddy, that was so sexy. You tasted so good, and you’re so big. I fucking love your big cock.” She batted her eyelashes at him, smiling. Her smile pressed kisses on his thighs again as Negan basked in that warm bliss after a killer orgasm. But she was far from finished with him.

Reaching down at the apex of her thighs, Kat gathered up her own arousal on her fingers. Soft and sweet kisses tickled at his thighs, and she admired his clean taste and the scent of soap still clinging to his skin. Slowly, she played with herself, winding tighter, but not close enough to distract herself from what her mouth was doing. She dragged her tongue from the back of his knee all the way up his inner thigh right to his – “Kitty Kat, Kitty Kat, Kitty Kat,” Negan chanted at her, “What are you doing?”

Taking her time, Kat let her actions answer his question first as she circled her tongue over his tight ring of muscle. She pressed her lips to him and sucked, snaking her tongue out to lave him with saliva, traces of his come smearing around his little hole. Fresh from the shower he was clean for her, and there was no taste other than the usual flavor of Negan’s skin. Kat liked this. Negan did, too, apparently. He trembled against her, but didn’t pull away, as equally intrigued by the sensations. Her tongue ventured in shallowly, flicking, and Negan grunted.

Withdrawing briefly, Kat finally explained, “What does it look like, Daddy? I’m kissing your ass. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

Before he could answer her, Kat dived back in, her tongue strokes more confident now. She pressed her face closer to him, and Negan helped her by gripping his thighs and ass in his hands and spreading himself for her. Kat backed away for a moment to breathe and take in the pretty picture, and she had to wonder if this … this pride is what Negan felt when a beautiful lady did the same for him.  “Oh, you’re so handsome, Daddy. So beautiful. Has anyone ever kissed you ass as good as your Kitty Kat?” Her mouth returned to him to continue the tongue-fucking as she waited for his response.

“Fuck,” Negan gasped, voice hoarse but pleasant to Kat’s ears. “Fuck, I’ve touched myself there loads of damn times. Used a few kinky toys, but no one has ever – fuck!” His speech broke off into a series of groans as Kat’s index finger gently slid inside. The insertion was made easy by her spit and her own fluids of arousal. Curious, she slid in to the hilt, twisting her finger and curling it, searching for his prostate.

“Oooh, fuck, Kitty Kat right fucking there!”

Well, she had found it. She stroked, watching in rapture as Negan bowed his back, head so far thrown back that she could no longer see his handsome face contort in pleasure. The grip he had holding himself open made his knuckles go right and his skin pinch and redden from the force. Negan’s cock, just flaccid a few moments ago from his orgasm, was now hard again. It laid untouched and twitching on his stomach. The head of his cock nestled into his navel teasingly, his pre-come generously leaking and catching in his happy trail.

As Kat continued to curl her finger, loosening him up in preparation for me, her other hand had three fingers already buried in her cunt. She’d hold off her orgasm for now, but if she timed this right, they both could come simultaneously. Until then, she curled her fingers and circled her thumb around her clit, teasing herself. Kat didn’t think he needed her rubbing his cock for him to come like this.

“Please, please, fuck, Kitty Kat, more. I need more. I’m so fucking close!” Negan hissed through his clenched teeth, jaw ticking, tendons in his neck standing out in full relief.

In response, she giggled and obliged him with another finger. She scissored him now, really stretching him out, deliberately neglecting to touch his prostate again. “So close already, Daddy? All for me? Your Kitty Kat is gonna stretch you so wide, Daddy, but you love it, don’t you?”

“Yessss,” he hissed eagerly, and his jaw was wound so tight Kat was actually afraid that he would accidentally crack a molar. “Fucking pound me with your fingers, I can fucking take it. I want more, goddamn it!” Negan pushed his hips forward, so demanding. Kat expected as much from him considering how bossy he normally was anyway.  

Very pleased by how responsive he was, Kat gingerly slipped in a third finger and vigorously thrust in and out rather than curling. Her other hand was doing the same now, and her thumb was tapping against her clit. Both of them were very close, but whereas Negan babbled about his oncoming orgasm, Kat got very quiet and very still. Negan meanwhile shook like a leaf, and squirmed his hips around, his inner walls clenching around her fingers tightly. He was just a huge ball of nerves, whining and desperately rocking against her fingers, his cock neglected and nearly purple now as it begged for release.

Kat rocked harder into her own hand, sucking and biting hard on her bottom lip to muffle her sounds. All she wanted to hear was Negan’s keening and the obscene sound of their mutual wetness as her fingers plunged, pillaged, and plundered for their sweet spots. She could sense when they were both on that precarious precipice, nearly there, nearly there. And then she crooked her fingers, rubbing hard against her G-spot and the same movements were repeated with Negan’s prostate.

Despite the delayed reaction, Negan came first, his come reaching all the way up to just under his freshly shaven chin in three thick spurts. Uncaring about the mess, he shouted her name and various other vulgarities and profanities loudly. His curses echoed off the wall, and Kat believed that they could be heard throughout the whole Sanctuary. And she wanted everyone to hear him, from the wives to the walkers so that they would all know that she did this to him, that only she could bring him so much pleasure –

And then she was coming at that thought, thumb ruthlessly mashing down on her clit. She squirting into her hand, the fluids puddling on the floor beneath her. “Oh, Daddy,” she squealed, and rode through her orgasm, prolonging it and squeezing out another albeit smaller one.

Negan was going on a similar journey, hips still gently rocking into her hand, milking her fingers for another orgasm. He was just greedy that way, so damn insatiable. Kat wouldn’t have him any other way. Well, he got his wish, and more come was spurted on his chest, curling around one of his erect nipples. With that last weak orgasm, he relaxed around her fingers, too tired to do anything else.

Pulling her hands away from him and herself, Kat examined her hands with interest. The pads on her fingertips were slightly wrinkled and very, very wet. She licked herself clean, trying to remember how to think and how to breathe while she did it. Then she shakily climbed to her feet, knees sore from kneeling for so long, and muscles pleasantly relaxed. She leaned over Negan, examining him proudly, a smug look on her face and a smirk tugging her lips. The look was very reminiscent of the expression Negan normally wears, but the tables were effectively turned tonight without a doubt.

Docile and sleepy, Negan laid on his back and dropped his legs down, fingers still in a curling position, though he clutched nothing but air. His chest was heaving hard, and it made the come on his torso drip down to the bed, though he couldn’t find the energy in him to care. He stared up at her with half-lidded eyes and a parted mouth, a tempting sight for Kat despite having orgasmed so intensely already.

“Oh, Negan, such a mess.” Kat shook her head at him with a smile, and gathered up his come with her fingers. She scooped it up to his mouth, tapping it against his lips, and Negan’s tongue came out and weakly flicked at her fingertips. She knew he liked the taste of himself, and she didn’t stop feeding him his come until most of the big spots were collected. “There you go, all gone.” 

Then Kat climbed on the bed, and flopped beside him. She herself had made a mess on the floor that Negan would probably make her lick up later, but she figured it could wait for now while they cuddled. Negan got cranky without his cuddles, too, she knew for certain.

“Kitty Kat?” Negan finally drawled as he pulled her into his side.

“Yes, Negan?”

“I think I’m going to toss my other wives for you.”

Surprised, Kat went still and quiet, unsure of how to process this. If she weren’t so damn tired, she’d drag herself up to look at him, but in lieu of that, she just waited for an explanation.

Sure enough, Negan explained unprompted, “None of those others can satisfy me like you fucking do. The whole point of me forming my harem was so that I could get pussy whenever I fucking wanted. I’ve got a voracious fucking sexual appetite, you know. But those other wives, they don’t fucking do it for me anymore. It’s like a damn chore with them. That’s what masturbating is for, for shit’s sake.

“Besides that, those bitches are just horrible. So damn bratty and too much effort to maintain. They cause too much damn trouble for me, and they can’t follow the rules I set for them. They aren’t loyal, they aren’t sweet to me, they aren’t worth the hassle.” His tone shifted to something softer as he continued, “Not like you, Kat. You do so much for me that I don’t expect you to. It’s fucking nice to be treated like I’m human. To just fucking let go and relax and trust that someone else can handle something. I’m always fucking large and in charge and as much as my ego sings and that gets me hard, it can be fucking stressful. But with you, it doesn’t have to be that way all the time, and I just fucking love being with you.” Earnestly, he insisted, “I love you, Kat.”

Now she finally did find the strength in her muscles to push herself up. She stared at him hard, and he gauged her reaction, his gaze steady. “I love you, too, Negan,” she finally admitted. It felt good to do that. She’d wanted to say it for so long and saying it now, knowing he felt the same, it felt so right. It was as if the world had stopped shifting around beneath her feet and just clicked into place. Kat finally knew where she stood with him.

Negan smiled at her, his tongue poking out a bit between his teeth, and his eyes were crinkled at the corners in his glee. Dimples flashed at her, his smile blinding, and he just beamed and beamed and continued to beam. “Tomorrow,” he promised her, “I’m going to send the wives to the new guy, Eugene.”

“A test?” Kat hazard a guess.

“To see how fucking loyal they can be,” Negan confirmed, “and a test for Eugene, too. See if he can find the damn light and recognize just who is on the winning side here.”

Kat nodded her understanding, the conversation lapsing into silence. Negan made the first move, leaning in for a kiss. Despite their mouths being equally filthy, they kissed anyway, and it was languid, drinking each other in, tasting themselves on each other. It was a heady experience. Finally, Negan pulled back, grinning mischievously. “Now,” he began, “about that ride, my little Ass-Kisser.”

“I prefer the term ‘sycophant’,” She countered him with a smile as equally wide and bright as his.

“Get the fuck over here, Kitty Kat.”

Like now. Too much was going on at home. First issue was that Rick wanted to attack this group of people we didn’t know based solely on the word of another group of people we also didn’t know. And second there was trouble in paradise. Or as close as paradise would get nowadays. Abraham and his indecisiveness was diving Sasha crazy. One night he’s leaving Rosita and the next he’s back in her bed. Sasha snorted at the thought and tapped her fingers on the wheel. All this stress was enough to drive one to drink.

“Stupid men. Who needs them?” Sasha grumbled to no one in particular.

“Yeah, stupid me. Fuck em. Amiright?” a deep voice responded causing Sasha to nearly jump out of the truck. She didn’t hear anyone walk up on her and she instantly became upset with herself that she left herself be snuck up on. In a instant her hand was on the gun at her waist and she pointed it at the direction of the voice. Peeking out of the driver’s side, she saw a tall man leaning casually against the trunk bed. He was dressed in a white tee shirt with black jeans and black boots. A knife was fastened to the belt loops of his jeans and over his shoulder he had what looked like a baseball bat over his shoulder. Sasha eyed his cautiously as she pointed her gun at him. He smirked at her, not seeming to be alarmed that she was pointing a gun at him.

“Well aren’t you a beauty.” he complimented as he eyed her up and down slowly. Sasha frowned as she continued to take a mental note of him.

“Who are you?” she asked as he unceasingly drank her body in. She was on the verge of clearing her throat to bring his attention to his her face when he finally brought his eyes back to her face.

“I’ll be whoever you want me to be.” he replied, his deep voice seductive. Sasha scoffed and lowered her gun but still kept it poised in his direction. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pointing a gun at you.” Sasha gestured towards the gun before looking back to him.

“And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m pointing one right back at you. Except, you can’t see mine. But if you ask nicely, I’ll let you see it.” he mocked, gestured towards his crotch. Sasha scoffed again and shook her head. She assumed that this new man must have been crazy since he was out wandering alone with just a baseball bat as protection. She figured that maybe she’d try to get some information out of him.  

“Hey mister. Do you know anything about a group called the Saviors?” she asked as she moved the gun to rest against her hip, the barrel pointing towards the ground. Sasha studied his face and watched for any signs of deceit. Tilting his head to the side, he looked at her curiously.

“What about the Saviors? Who wants to know?” he asked amused. He shifted from one foot to the other and moved the bat to tap on his boot. Sasha was stunned to see that the bat was wrapped in barbed wire and eyed it warily. His eyes followed her gazed and lifted the bat so she could get a better look. Sasha reflextafly took a step back and her fingers twitched around the gun’s trigger.

“This is Lucille.” he announced proudly while pointing the bat and extending it towards Sasha. “And she is awesome.” he finished, speaking affectionately of the bat. Sasha nodded and for the briefest of moments she contemplated shooting him coming to the conclusion that he must be insane. Relaxing her grip on the gun, she studied him. He was handsome, there was no debate about that with hazel eyes that conveyed boyish charm but there was also another element there that was sending warnings to Sasha that she couldn’t decipher.

“So beautiful, you got a name? Why are you out here all alone and why do you want to know about the Saviors?” he asked taking a step forward, reaching the back passenger side of the truck. Sasha eyed the bat again as he began to twirl it now in his left hand away from the truck.

“Name’s Sasha, I’m taking a break and I just wanna know.” she answered matter of factly with a shrug. “What’s your name? Where are you from?”

“Me?” he pointed dramatically to himself. “I’m Negan.” he said proudly. Sasha sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes and the man looked at her with genuine dismay. Seeing the look on his face was the fuel for her fire and she let herself laugh.

“So you’re a Savior. That’s why you asked why I want to know. God, everyone is Negan.’” Sasha laughed ironically. Eyeing the man who stared back at her just as confused, Sasha put her gun away. “You’re not gonna tell me what I wanna know so why bother? Just go.” she sighed as she climbed back into the truck, its worn polyester having cooled from her missing body heat. She placed her elbows in the nooks of the steering wheel and rested her head in her hands. Just what she needed, more stress. The man walked to the driver side and leaned against the area where the door should close and watched her quietly.

“What if I want to stay here with you a little longer? Shoot the breeze and whatnot?” he spoke low leaning close so she could hear him. Sasha snorted with indignation and turned her head to look at him, her head still near the wheel.

“You're a Savior.” she responded matter of factly. He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a ‘so what if I am’ look. Inching closer to her, he brushed against her thigh and Sasha froze. Side-eyeing him, she lifted her head from her hands and propped her elbows up on the wheel. “What are you doing, mister?”

“What was that you were saying? Men being stupid or what-fucking-ever?” he asked flashing her a brilliant smile that nearly threw her off guard. Sasha withdrew into herself and placed her head back into her hands. His comment brought back all the thoughts of Abraham and Rosita being together and Sasha sucked her teeth in annoyance.

“Men are stupid. End of discussion.” she responded curtly. Laughing the man reached out and began ran a long finger down her exposed arm, the touch sending an unwanted jolt of electricity throughout her body. She didn't flinch away however and instead sat back in the seat to get a good look at him.

“You know I have a gun, right? Any funny business and I'll blow your damn head off.” she warned, her eyes staring up at his sternly.

“No funny business here, ma’am. I just hate to see a woman not be taken care of. I can take care of you.” he offered, his deep voice laced with unspoken promises. Sasha huffed and turned to face him, her legs crossed inside the bed of the truck.

“Men always make promises they can't deliver on. What makes you so different, mister?” Sasha taunted, exhaling impatiently. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, the man sunk to his knees and placed a hand on her thigh, the other propping the bat Lucille against the front tire of the truck.

“Trust me.” he cooed as ran his hand up her thigh and gently squeezed. “I always deliver.” Sasha swallowed hard as an involuntary shiver traveled down her spine and seemed to rest in her groin. Every inner alert system was telling her to run, to scream, to take her gun and blow his brains out and decorate the lavender field red. But in the back of her mind there was also a small voice telling her that one time couldn’t hurt, Abraham was having his fun so why can’t you and if you were to have a one time rendezvous this guy wasn’t bad looking. Biting her lower lip, thoughts of Abraham and Rosita laying in bed together flooded her mind and she uncrossed her legs turning to him slightly.

“If you do anything I don’t like, we’re stopping. I mean it. I’m serious when I say no funny business, mister.” Sasha cautioned as she fully turned to him, allowing him to be partially between her legs. He nodded in agreement and ran his hands slowly up the front of her jeans. She watched as he expertly unfastened the button and then the zipper, his hands moving swiftly and with urgency. Sasha attempted to reason with herself once more as she felt him grip the waistband of her jeans and underwear yank them down to her halfway her calves, nearly pulling her off the truck seat. Sasha yelp as she blindly grabbing for the back of the seat, catching it before she could be dragged out out the truck. She look down at the man in wonder and realized that he had also taken her boots off; Sasha not even feeling them come off her feet. He had propped her legs up on his shoulders and was examining her. Using his fingers, he gently spread her outer lips and ran his thumb over her sensitive area. Sasha squirmed under his prying eyes and sighed as his touch sent a surge of pleasure to her core.

Noticing the increased moisture, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her thigh. He kissed her up her inner thigh to her now swollen lips and kissed them as if he were kissing a lover. Sasha moaned low and continued t o squirm, anxious for him to get to the prize. Bringing a hand up, he parted her lips once again and dipped his tongue into her opening, licking upwards in a circular motion and just missing her clit. Sasha whined as he repeated the cycle, each time his tongue delving deeper inside of her. Shifting forward, his nose brushed against her nub and Sasha moaned loudly, the brief contact setting her aflame. He smirked as he used his nose to nuzzle against her again and swirl his tongue around her now very sensitive clit before he latched his lips around her and sucked. Sasha’s hands instantly flexed around the seat as her hips bucked and she came, moaning louder than she intended to. Her legs clamped around his head and he laughed as he pried himself from her clutches. Standing, he wiped his face with the back of his hand and stared down at her in amusement.

“Did I fucking deliver?” he asked, clearly proud of himself. Sasha sat up and located her discarded jeans. Standing on wobbly legs, she pulled them back on and next her boots.

“Sure, if you say so.” she quipped back. He scoffed and looked affronted. He picked up the bat against the tire and began to walk away.

A wide smile rose onto your face the second the large leader had walked into the room once again, not only was this the first night in a long time that Negan had wanted you all to himself but he had also managed to get his hands on a large bottle of red wine. You reached for the glass Negan offered your way while his dark bushy eyebrows shot up a few times playfully and his teeth dug into his bottom lip as he opened the bottle. “Oh fuck yeah.” he smirked before smelling the contents inside. The tall man leaned his long upper torso back and sighed out his delight. Negan, who aimed to please his wives every chance he got, poured you a glass first and then moved on to pour himself one, winking at you with his cocky lopsided smile. You watched him mid sip. Not once did your eyes leave his until Negan himself broke the stare needing to make sure he wasn’t going to spill. Your eyes traced every line of his rugged face while taking another sip of the wonderfully bitter wine. 

“How’s it?” Negan questioned, his smile growing so wide his dimples appeared. You bit your lip mindlessly. His light eyes caught that before you attempted to hide your lustful look behind the wine glass. “Hmmm…” Negan gave a low hum before shaking his head slightly and sauntering over to join you on the couch. Your eyes following. As he lowered down to the furniture, he took a long swig of his glass. As he did your eyes quickly moved away from the glass and watched as his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. ‘Jesus christ.’ you gasped in your head, before your eyes traveled again. They trailed the stubble peppered on the skin of his neck getting thicker as you moved up his neck and onto his strong jawline covered in the aged facial hair. “Fuck.” You murmured, not even realizing you had said it out loud.

“I’m fuckin’ flattered dear wife, I really fuckin’ am. My ego is sky goddamn high right the fuck now. Eye-fuckin’ is fuck fuckity fuckin’ fun and all but goddamn!“ Negan huffed out, a calloused hand of his scratching up at his facial hair, “It ain’t as fun as real wet pussy fuckin’.” when Negan looked back at you, your breath began to shake. You ached for him. Quickly you gulped down a bigger sip. “By the way you keep rubbin’ those delicious goddamn thighs together I can tell you’re wetter than a motherfuckin’ ocean.” Negan’s words took you by surprise, they always could. You hadn’t even notice you were moving your thighs, making you quiver between them knowing Negan was staring at you just as much as you were with him.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” you spoke, a slight tinge of pain in your voice.

Negan’s expressive eyebrows shot up again while listening before his broader body inched closer to yours on the couch. “Hold onto your glass.” he demanded.

“Wait wh—” you tried but a sudden tug at your ankle had you yanked further down the couch. “Negan!” You yelped.

“I said hold on dammit!” he delicious voice laughed.

“More of a warning next time.” you argued playfully before leaning back on your elbows watching how quickly Negan swallowed his glass of wine. The taller man easily stretched his upper body over to the coffee table to place his empty glass down. As he swallowed the last drop, he hovered over your body placing his hands on either side of your head while staring down at your face. He bent his elbows and pushed his lips into yours for a un-pleasingly short kiss before he lifted back up and sat himself down on the couch once more. Laughing once again this time at your sudden pout.

“I’ll kiss you more after I fuckin’ eat.” Negan stated and you felt your face twist with confusion. As you opened your mouth to ask Negan pushed your dress up enough for his head to go under it and between your thighs. Those curious eyeballs of yours instantly dropping down to your thick thighs before you gasped out due to Negan sudden bite at your lips through your already damp underwear. He hummed his approval into your fabric covered cunt, inhaling your arousal for him. Your hips jerked your cunt into his face even more when you wanted to get a better look, yanking your dress up to your navel. Removing the underwear meant having Negan get his mouth away from you and you were not having any of that. It was finally your alone time with him and you were going to savor every damn second of it.

Aroused by your eagerness, Negan began to tease you further by lapping his wide flat tongue against your underwear. You groaned out from the friction and felt your clit twitch with arousal multiple times. Masturbating wasn’t cutting it anymore. You had to feel Negan. You wanted him inside of you so fucking bad! “Oh please… please just eat me, please~” you begged, pinching at your erect nipples through the multiple layers your wore on your chest. Negan tsked his rejection within your thighs and you whimpered. “ shhh… just drink. Think of this as wine and dine… Oh and by the way I’m currently eatin’, so shut it.”

You melted and quickly took a large gulp from your glass before you couldn’t move anymore. Your arms were now limp like noodles and your body fell back onto the couch, not only was Negan too attractive for his own good but this wine was helping everything. You felt your body slow beginning to tingle all over. His fingers pushed aside your underwear that was so rudely in his way and his tongue went into action. He lapped up your juices that already soaked you and sucked at your labia, smacking his lips as he released it from his hungry mouth. “Fuck you taste better than any wine.”

You were still clutching your wine glass and the dark crimson liquid jerked within it as your body squirmed. Negan was much more enjoyable though and you decided half a huge glass was okay for now, your cheeks were already starting to burn from the alcohol anyways. Your arms were shorter than Negan’s were and you could care less if you broke a glass right now so you placed it on the floor. Unknowing if the glass made it or not, you quickly brought your hands back up and tangled them through his thick head of hair that was smacked away. Glaring up from your lower half, Negan shook his head, allowing his tongue to flick against your clit as he denied you to touch him. Your hips mindlessly trembled from the sensation, making you gasp out little moans unable to keep them in. 

Biting down your lip roughly, you attempted to be quiet as you watched your husband devour you whole. His hair prickling at your lower half. His eyes were hidden behind lids as he indulged himself, you loved how he fit so perfectly between your thighs, but the smirk could see him do every now and again, clearly enjoying himself was what you loved and missed the most. “Who are you?” Negan asked with a smug grin, whipping his mouth and jaw with a large hand. You rolled your eyes and laid your head back down on the couch, hiding the huge dumb grin you had in that moment. “Negan…” you replied and Negan sucked your clit but stopped. “...I’m Negan.” You gasped out and he sucked again, but longer and harder. “Oh god~ Negan!” You moaned out loudly, “Negan—ahhh! Mmmmm—- Negan!” You repeatedly gasped his name. This only began to fuel him further. Negan’s wide tongue pushed within you, dipping in and out rapidly, his salt and pepper began to burn so nicely at any part of skin he rubbed up against. 

Negan pushed your thighs open wider, one of his hands spreading your lips open as he trailed his tongue on all the sensitive soaked areas. His large hands kept your thighs spread right open, completely offering yourself to Negan. You felt your juices begin to drip onto the couch sliding right out of your excited dripping pussy. Negan got you so hot so very fucking easily. Negan rubbed his thumb against your clit, doing small but rough circles while diving his tongue back deep within you. Your back arched and you moaned out loudly, mind going instantly blank. All your body could focus on was the immense pleasure Negan was making you feel in this very moment. Again your hands made their way onto Negan’s head, gripping roughly at his hair, this made him growl, the low vibration making you tingle more. His hands moved away from your cunt and were now wrapped tightly around both of your wrists, keeping them in place on their side of your hips. Negan made you listen. He pulled on your arms to press your body down more onto his face, attacking and giving all attention to your twitching clit. He bit and sucked on it roughly before his tongue slowly rubbed the pain away. He kissed your clit the moment you yelped from his biting, causing you to moan out just seconds after. But you never mind a little pain he caused.

“I’m—ahh! I’m gonna’ cum…” you groaned out, your jaw trembling as you bit down on your pump sore bottom lip.

“Fuck yeah you are…” Negan huffed out. Releasing a wrist to attack your clit again, your eyes rolling back behind your skull as he did and your toes curling. “Cum all over my goddamn fingers, baby…” with that, he moved his finger from your clit and swiftly pushed three of his long fingers deeply inside of you. Before you could even breath, he began to thrust them inside of your cunt quick and hard, nearly punching his fist repeatedly against your lower half. With your free arm you aided Negan with making you burst. Your middle and pointer finger immediately began assaulting your swollen clit, your body twitching with pleasure right there on the couch. The wine made your body much more sensitive than usual. 

“Ohhh fuckk!!” You gasped out, your arm going faster and Negan matched your pace, his jaw slack as he watched your face and body twist with pleasure. Light eyes hooded with lust as he finger-fucked the hell out of you. “I’m—I’m!” you attempted to speak but there were no words, your glazed eyes looked up at Negan’s intoxicating face but the large bugle in his pants was even more of a sight. You imaged his girth splitting you open and you were hit with a fiery hot flash that spread quickly throughout your entire body. Your mouth unleashed a series of loud, intense moans while your body jerked about just as intensely, your back arched as you came and crashed back down as the waves kept hitting you. Negan kept fucking your tightening cunt, groaning along side of you getting into the moment, nodding his head with furrowed brows, his teeth attacking his own bottom lip as he stared down at your body. You whimpered into the back of your hand, trying to compose yourself from the intense release. Failing miserably.

His long fingers slide out of you slowly, glistening from your release. Negan licked his lips before lifting those fingers into his mouth and his tongue lapped up any of your flavor they bore.

If it had been any other time, you wouldn’t have hesitated to invite him inside. Feeling the grime crust on your skin made you reconsider though, you just weren’t in the mood today.

With a small gesture towards the door, your words sound a little more awkward than you’d like. “I’m gonna head in for a shower, get all this crap outta my hair.”

Negan looks at ease as always, playfully waggling his eyebrows. You adore this side of negan. He was so self assured it made you feel safe and brought out the lighter side of life that had long been forgotten. “Mind if I come in?”

You were his home away from home as he so eloquently put it one day. Looking at his face now you wonder if he really did meant it. He had proposed once upon a time ago but it wasn’t what you wanted. Living at the outpost, however, gave you both an opportunity for something a little different from his usual lifestyle. Letting his drawl wash over you, you consider his request. It had been a while since he had last paid a visit and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t missed him. It would be a shame to turn him away now.

The corners of your mouth turn up into a playful grin. “I dunno -You gonna behave?” Clutching his hand against his chest the man feigned his inner pain. “Shit darlin’. I’m offended. If I didn’t know any fucking better I’d think that you didn’t trust me.”

With a soft giggle, you open the door and motion for him to follow you inside. Running his tongue over his bottom lip Negan smiles and pushes off from the wall.

Wasting no time you grab some clean clothes and a towel, hearing the door click shut softly behind you. The small rap of wood against plasterboard tells you that he had set Lucile down against the wall.

“Do you trust me?”

You turn to Negan, seeing something guarded in his expression, doubtful. Crossing the gap between you both you reach out for his hand and squeeze it tenderly.

“You know I do.”

It used to startle you just how much you did trust him. He was dangerous after all. After everything you had seen him do part of you thought that it might be wrong to have feelings for him. Since then you had come to terms with it. The heart wants what the heart wants. Not to mention that you were a somewhat dangerous person yourself. The rules were different in the new world.

As he leans in to kiss you, you pull back slightly shaking your head. “I really need that shower.”

“How ‘bout I join you?” Negan counters, his voice a quiet hum in your ear. Feeling you knees weaken slightly you strengthen your resolve and head back towards the bathroom with a shake of your head. Making him wait a little while wouldn’t hurt.

“Maybe next time.”

Grumbling, Negan makes his way to your bed and sits himself down, bouncing a little to test out your mattress. As you turn the lock on the door you hear him call out to you. “Y'know I’m gonna go through your fucking room while I wait don’t you? I get bored as shit real easy-like.”

Unfazed by his man-child pouting you shrug from behind the door. “Whatever just stay out of my underwear drawer.”

“Hot damn!”

Feeling much more human after scrubbing your skin clean, you step back into your room. Fully dressed with your wet hair wrapped in a towel on top of your head, you find Negan laid back against your headboard looking rather relaxed.

He sits up at the sight of you, leaning forward with a serious look taking over his features. “Sweetheart I have a confession to make.”

Giving him your full attention you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion. You hated surprises. “What’s that?” “I read your fucking diary.”

Your eyebrows raise in disbelief as you blink at the man. Seemingly content with your reaction Negan smiles widely and continues to taunt you about it.

“I gotta tell you doll – you oughta keep that thing under lock and key. You’re a dirty girl ain’t ya? I knew you liked me but hot damn! There’s enough material in that thing to fuel my every fantasy for the next ten years.”

Unable to contain yourself you snort with laughter, silently giggling at the man. At his playfully confused expression you decide to call him out on his bluff. “Negan you dingus. I don’t even have a fucking diary.”

His eyes widen, with a grin still playing upon his lips he genuinely looks disappointed. “You don’t?”

Sauntering over to the bed, you gently card your fingers through his hair. Negan closes his eyes contentedly and presses his mouth against your stomach before you answer. “Nope.”

With a frown, Negan leans back to get a good look at you, his hands sliding around the backs of your thighs to hold you in place. “Well shit. How the fuck am I supposed to find out all your juicy secrets then hmm?”

Smiling you duck down to kiss the man, warmth flushing through your body as he pulls you closer to straddle his lap. Your mouth moves against his and you sigh into it giving him leeway to deepen the kiss even more.

As he holds you flush against his chest you wind your arms around his neck. You pull back a little to take a good look at the man under you. Smiling, you rest your forehead against his, relishing how right it all feels.