Break Me |✧Negan 🍯

Tongue In Your Jar. pt2. (Smut Warning)

(Heavy Smut Warning, beginning and end marked with ***)

"See over there, doll?" Negan asked, looking longingly out of the window with a sly grin.

"Where?" You exclaimed, lifting your palms and squinting. A strong arm pulled you forward and around, clinging around your waist. Your hands went up instinctively up to Negans chest to brace yourself.

There was that warmth again...His chest felt like a solid wall of muscle and you couldn't help but notice the thickness of his biceps. Your fingers had cuffed themselves to the lapels of his jacket and you looked up nervously through your eyelashes.

He was looking down at you with a grin. "Sorry, doll. Sometimes I forget my own strength".

Your fingers unhooked themselves like you had touched a hot stove, and pools of warmth flared in your cheeks.

He noticed.

"Wow, doll. If I can make you blush that damn easily you'll be AMMMAZZZED at what else I could make your blood rush to...Honey. That's a befitting fucking name. I gotta say doll I'll dip my tongue in your jar any day...Whadya say?"

Your cheeks flared even redder and you were sure you were as bright as your apple, you tried to back away but he held you in place.

"With pride comes disgrace Negan...And evil stains. As devastatingly handsome as you are...I'll have to pass. Now, what do you want me to look at?" You laughed, lightly patting his stomach in jest.

"Tsk-spoil sport. Wait...Holy shit balls you think I'm handsome! I'm fucking honored. doll"

"Negan! What am I looking at?" Your patience was beginning to wear thin with his games.

He moved behind you in one swift motion and you momentarily tensed waiting for his next move. But he simply placed his two hands gently on either side of your face and tilted your head to the direction of a small room, one floor below.

He placed his arms beside your waist and leaned on the sill, essentially trapping you, he dipped his head so he was level with your ear and rested his chin on your shoulder.

You could feel his chest on your back, his soft breaths rising and falling and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into him, you saw his biceps tighten in response.

"See that room? That's a sorta kindergarten we have here. We had a few teachers join us last year...the idea was to keep the children up with the reading and writing. Cant have the next generation growing up to be fucking illiterate now, can we? It's difficult enough with the numb fuckers already here."

Your eyes traced the outline of painted giraffes, castles and clouds on the wall of the powder pink room. The four children you spied looked like they were captivated by a small framed woman sat at the front, reading from a big red book from behind thick red framed glasses.

You moved your face to his, your eyes narrowed and suspicious.

"What are you getting at, Negan?"

"See those little darlin's in there." He whispered, his chin leaving your shoulder.

"Yes...Your point?..."

"Well, Sweetheart. You and your people...Y'all made them orphans. Poor fuckin' mites."

You tensed. Feeling nauseous and as if you were just jabbed in the gut by a sharp rusty pipe, it physically hurt.

"I KNOW you were one of the people in your group that slaughtered my men in their sleep at that outpost. You said so yourself. A knife straight through the temple? Very fucking savage work Honey, I mean even I haven't killed a man in his sleep." He snickered, tapping at your temple with his index finger.