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arysafics · 5 years

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Someone Else’s Baby

Summary: When Gina finds out she can't get pregnant, she and Bellamy enlist in the help of a surrogate, Clarke Griffin. Bellamy didn't realise how much the pregnancy would affect him.

Rated E, ~3.6k words

Bellamy and Gina always knew they wanted kids. Raising a family has always meant more to Bellamy than any of his other life goals, and he and Gina were always on the same page, that they would start trying as soon as they were married. They tried for a year on their own before they started to get impatient, worried, and enlisted the help of a fertility clinic. Gina cried for almost three days straight when they got the results back, telling them that, ultimately, she was infertile.

After the initial shock had worn off, they discussed their options, and settled on surrogacy. Gina even confessed to him that she was secretly glad she wouldn’t have to give birth, because that thought had always kind of terrified her.

They went through an agency, and two months later, they met Clarke Griffin. Who is now standing at the front door, despite the fact that their ultrasound appointment isn’t for another half an hour.

“Sorry I’m so early,” Clarke says, as Bellamy lets her inside. “I told my boss I had an ultrasound appointment and she got so excited she let me go early. It was just easier to come straight here than go home first.”

“It’s fine, Clarke,” Bellamy says, leading her into the living room. Although he’s not entirely sure if it is fine. Gina isn’t here yet, and Bellamy doesn’t really like being alone with Clarke.

Clarke sinks down onto the couch, Bellamy’s eyes on her protruding belly. She never wears maternity clothes. Today it’s just a stretchy tank top and a maxi skirt. A sliver of her stomach always seems to be visible. She’s six months pregnant now, and along with her growing belly, her breasts seem to have increased a cup size or two as well, a fact which hasn’t escaped Bellamy’s notice. From the looks of it she hasn’t bothered to get a new bra fitted, electing to go without instead.

Bellamy realises he’s staring, and he quickly clears his throat. He shoves his hands into his pockets so they stop feeling so useless and awkward. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, I’m okay,” Clarke says. “Where’s Gina?” She looks around, almost nervously. Like maybe she’s afraid to be alone with him as well. Maybe she’s figured out he’s insanely attracted to her and is worried he’ll try to do something about it.

“Still at work,” Bellamy says. “She should be here soon.”

Clarke looks up at him from the couch. “Are you going to sit or what?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy says. He sits on the end of the couch, as far away from her as possible. He watches her though. He can’t seem to stop. He thought she was pretty when they first met, but now, when she’s six months pregnant with his child, she’s all he can think about. It’s a disease.

She rubs her belly absentmindedly. Bellamy yearns to do the same.

“Only three more months until you become a dad,” Clarke says. “How does it feel?”

“Honestly, it doesn’t feel real yet,” Bellamy says. “It’s like, Gina and I are reading all these parenting books, buying all this baby stuff, and we know it’s coming. But it’s still so… abstract.”

“Do you think it would feel more real if it was Gina was the one who was pregnant and not me?”

Bellamy shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s always like this for the dad.” He pauses, studying her for a moment. Not that his eyes ever left her. “How’s being pregnant?”

“Not so bad,” Clarke says. “Random people keep trying to touch my stomach though, which is annoying. And I guess I’ve got all these crazy hormones.”

“Crying over eating the last cookie, that kind of thing?” Bellamy smiles, remembering when his mom was pregnant with Octavia.

“More like—” she stops, blushing. “Well, let’s just say I sometimes wish I wasn’t single.”

Bellamy finds himself blushing too, when he realises what she means. Her pregnancy hormones are making her horny, and she’s got no one to help her out. “Right,” he says awkwardly.

“Sorry,” Clarke says. “I shouldn’t have said that, way too much information.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Bellamy says. They’re adults, they should be able to talk about sex without it being weird. “I guess it would be hard to find someone who wants to have casual sex with a pregnant woman.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just the sex,” Clarke says quickly. “I actually don’t think it would be that hard to find someone to have sex with if I was really trying. But I get really—touch-starved, I guess? Like I just want somebody to hold me for a while.”

He could do that, right? Just hold her for a few minutes while they wait for Gina? That’s not cheating. It’s just helping out the woman who is carrying their baby. Except he knows it’s not just that, because even though he’s pretty sure his attraction to her is mostly to do with her being pregnant with his baby, it’s still there, and his reasons for holding her wouldn’t be totally altruistic.

“I guess, if we were doing this the normal way, you know, I’d be there for you— I mean, the father of the child would be.” Which is him. God, she’s blushing again, all the way down to her chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“It’s fine, Bellamy.”

He wants to groan at his own graceless attempts at conversation. He’s sure he’d be normal if he wasn’t trying so hard to not accidentally flirt with her. He’s not sure he’s even achieving that.

“I never asked you why you decided to become a surrogate,” Bellamy says, desperately trying to steer the conversation away from Clarke’s sex life, and the fact that she’s carrying his baby. He’s half hard now, and if it gets any worse, she might just notice.

Clarke turns her head towards him, squinting at him, as if she’s not sure if she should tell him. “I just wanted to do something… selfless.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “I did a lot of—not great things when I was younger. I guess I’m trying to make up for it.”

Bellamy is bursting to ask her what kind of things she did. But it’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about it. He searches for something else to say that isn’t invasive or creepy, since he’s covered both of those things already.

Before he can think of anything, he’s saved by his phone ringing, and he scrambles to answer it, relieved at the intervention. “Hey, babe,” he answers. “It’s Gina,” he mouths at Clarke, as if she might think he’s call someone else babe. Clarke nods.

“I’m trying really hard to stay calm right now, but I want to murder my boss,” Gina says.

“What’s wrong?”

“Even though I told him about our appointment, he’s now saying I can’t go. There’s a lot of work to do here, but he fucking promised me. I told him how important the six-month ultrasound is, and he just told me I didn’t need to be there since I’m not actually the one who’s pregnant.”

She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears from pure frustration.

“Want me to come down there and kick his ass?”

“The only reason I’m not kicking his ass myself is because I’m angling to get extra maternity leave,” Gina complains. “But I really want to be there.”

“It’s okay,” Bellamy tells her. “We can reschedule. Right, Clarke?”

“Sure,” Clarke agrees.

“Clarke’s there?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy says. “She says it’s fine.”

“I feel so bad. Tell her I’m really sorry she had to miss work for nothing,” Gina says.

“Gina says she’s sorry you had to miss work.”

“It’s okay,” Clarke grins. “My boss loves me. She won’t care if I have to take more time off.”

“Clarke is really fine with it,” Bellamy tells Gina.

“Okay,” Gina breathes. “I guess I better get back to it. I’m really sorry, babe. Will you call the doctor and reschedule?”

“Of course,” Bellamy says. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay, bye. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He hangs up, and quickly calls the doctor to reschedule, checking with Clarke to make sure the new time suits her too.

“I guess I should go then,” Clarke says, once Bellamy has made the appointment. Bellamy nods. No point in acting like he thinks she should stick around so they can hang out. It’s not like they’re really friends. Even though he’s sure they could be really good friends, if he trusted himself enough around her to not do something stupid, like kiss her.

“I’ll see you next week,” he says.

Clarke goes to stand up, but then she stops, her hand flying to her stomach.

“Ooh!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up. “The baby’s kicking. Come feel.” She reaches for him, and Bellamy scoots closer, somewhat apprehensively. She grabs his hand and pulls her tank top up, baring her swollen stomach. She places his hand on her baby bump, his large palm covering her skin. He feels nothing. He glances at Clarke.

“Just wait,” she says. He feels a jerk against his hand and his heart skips a beat, a grin spreading over his face. He knows this isn’t the first time she’s felt the baby kicking, but it’s the first time he’s felt it. His insides melt. That’s his baby.

Clarke is absolutely beaming, her eyes sparkling at him. Bellamy grins back. He leans down and puts his cheek against her belly.

Clarke laughs. “You won’t be able to hear anything,” she says, resting her hand on his head. Bellamy feels the baby kick against his cheek, and before he can think better of it, he turns his head and presses his lips against her stomach. Clarke’s fingers curl into his hair.

Bellamy pulls away abruptly, his face flaming. “Sorry,” he whispers hoarsely. “That was inappropriate.”

“It’s okay,” Clarke says. “You were kissing the baby. You weren’t kissing me.”

Bellamy swallows thickly. His heart is racing. He nods.

“You don’t have to stop,” Clarke says. “You should be able to kiss your baby as much as you want.”

“Clarke, I don’t think—” he stops, shaking his head. He wants to put his lips on her so badly. Not just on her stomach. Everywhere, all over her body. But it would be so fucked up. He can’t cheat on his wife, let alone with the woman who’s carrying their baby. “I don’t think you understand,” he says.

“I understand.” He looks at her sharply. She bites her lip. “Seeing me pregnant with your baby turns you on.”

Bellamy looks away again, flushing. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Only to me,” Clarke says. Bellamy manages to look at her again. She wants him to touch her. Her pupils are wide, her eyes full of longing.

Bellamy slides his hand over her belly again, watching Clarke’s expression the whole time. Her eyes flutter closed, and she breathes in deeply. When was the last time she was touched properly? By somebody who cares about her and not just the human she’s growing in her stomach?

“I can hold you,” he blurts out. “For a little while. I can give you that.”

Clarke opens her eyes, and nods hesitantly. It’s a bad idea, Bellamy knows that. It’s an even worse idea to take her to his bedroom, but that’s what he does. There isn’t enough room on the couch.

Clarke lies down on his bed, on her side, and Bellamy cautiously settles himself behind her. He wraps his arms around her, his hands resting on her belly, and Clarke sighs happily. Bellamy breathes in the scent of her coconut scented shampoo.

“This feel better?” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Clarke says. “Thank you.”

Bellamy rubs her stomach gently, over her tank top, almost subconsciously. His cock presses insistently against the fly of his pants. He splays his hands over her stomach possessively, and Clarke puts her tiny hands over his. His lips rest against her bare shoulder, and he kisses her there without thinking. Her hands grip his tightly, and he stops, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling guilty when he realises what he’s doing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I keep forgetting. I just—didn’t realise this pregnancy would—” he swallows. He shouldn’t say it out loud. “Make me want you so much.”

Clarke is silent for a moment, and Bellamy wonders if he’s taken it too far, if he’s offended her. But she doesn’t move away, and her thumb rubs the back of his hand gently, soothingly.

“It turns me on too,” she finally whispers. Bellamy’s breath hitches. “I think about you,” she says, her voice shaking. “When I touch myself. Wish you were holding me or fucking me. Taking care of me like you would if I was your wife.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy chokes out. “You have no idea how much I want to do that. But Gina—”

“I know,” Clarke says. “You’re such a good husband. You’re going to be such a good father. I’m so happy I’m having your baby. I only wish it was my baby too.”

“Me too,” Bellamy admits. He’s never admitted that even to himself before. But he loves Gina, and it’s their baby Clarke is carrying. And he doesn’t want to do anything to fuck up this baby’s life, like cheat on his wife and ruin their marriage.

“Bellamy,” Clarke whispers. The way she says his name gives him goosebumps. “I’m so horny,” she tells him. His cock jumps. He’s fully hard by now, and he’s aching for her. “I haven’t been fucked in so long.” He can feel what little resolve he had fading as she pleads with him. Some primal instinct tells him it’s his duty to take care of the woman carrying his baby, to give her what she needs.

His hand slides down her stomach, her hand on his, guiding him lower, dipping beneath the waistband of her skirt, into her panties, until his whole hand is over her pussy. His heart is racing. This is wrong, so wrong. He’s crossed a line he never thought he’d cross.

“Please, Bellamy,” Clarke murmurs hoarsely. “Finger me, please.”

“Look at me,” Bellamy whispers. He shifts, propping himself up on his elbow and Clarke rolls over onto her back. Bellamy looks down at her, his hand still covering her pussy. She’s got tears in her eyes, desperation creasing her face. He slips a finger inside her, and she gasps. She’s wet as hell.

“Gina can’t find out,” he says, and saying it out loud makes his stomach churn with guilt. Still, he doesn’t stop. He keeps one finger inside her, stroking her lazily. With his other hand, he pushes her tank top up again, bunching it under her breasts. He kisses her stomach again, and again, and again, soft and sweet.

“Seeing you like this,” he croaks out. “Fuck, Clarke. Every time I see you, you’re bigger. My baby growing inside you. Drives me crazy.”

“I know,” Clarke breathes. Bellamy rubs her clit with his thumb and her breath hitches. “I see you looking at me.”

Bellamy groans. “I want to make you feel so good,” he says.

He kisses her stomach again, then lower, and lower. He pulls his hand from her panties, then drags them down, along with her skirt, abandoning them on the floor at the foot of the bed. He presses his lips to her cunt, covered in soft curls. He slips his tongue between her folds, and she moans when he makes contact with her clit.

Her hands find their way into his hair as he caresses her clit with his tongue.

“God, Bellamy,” she groans. “That feels so good. Don’t stop.”

He has no intention of stopping now. He’s too far gone. His guilt doesn’t eclipse his arousal, or his need to please Clarke, his need to make sure the woman carrying his child is satisfied.

He fucks her with his tongue, tasting her arousal, until she’s panting and writhing, right on the brink, and then he sucks on her clit and tips her over the edge. She cries out, pulling on his hair, arching against his face.

He pulls away as she comes down, her grip on his curls loosening. He presses a kiss to her inner thigh. His cock throbs, and he’s even more aware of it now that he’s not focused on Clarke’s pleasure. Would it make a difference if he fucks her now? He’s already cheated on his wife. Gina sure as hell wouldn’t see a difference between him going down on another woman or fucking her.

Bellamy looks up, meeting Clarke’s eyes. Her stomach bulges between them, and he knows he has to have her. Has to fuck her. Otherwise he’ll never stop thinking about it.

“Can I—?” he asks, knowing Clarke will know what he wants, what he needs. What he’s been dreaming of since they implanted his seed into Clarke’s uterus.

“We’ve already come this far,” she says. “And it’s not like I can get any more pregnant.” No chance of leaving any evidence.

Bellamy sheds his clothes like a man possessed, and Clarke pulls her tank top over her head, so he finally gets to see those magnificent breasts. God, if she was his wife, he’d get to watch her breastfeed their baby.

“Fuck, you are so fucking gorgeous,” he growls. He brings his mouth to her breast, kissing her messily, then sucking her nipple into his mouth.

“Bellamy, come on,” Clarke whines. “Fuck me, please.”

“I will,” he says, moving his mouth to her other breast. “But this is the only chance I’ll ever have to do this. Let me enjoy it.”

He lavishes her tits, sucking on her nipples, squeezing them with his hands. God, she has the best tits he’s ever had his hands on. It’s a travesty they don’t belong to him.

She’s whimpering now, desperate for his cock, and he’s just as desperate to be inside her. His hands ghost over her stomach, a swell of possessiveness surging in his chest as he sheaths himself inside her. He keeps his hands on his stomach as he fucks her, the thought of his baby inside her spurring him on. Doesn’t matter that she’s not the mother of the child, in this moment, she may as well be. He wants her to be.

“Can’t wait for you to have my baby, Clarke,” he groans, his words coming out breathless and hoarse as he keeps up his steady rhythm. “Wish I could’ve fucked my baby into you. Made you pregnant myself.”

“Me too,” Clarke moans. “God, I want to have your babies. Want you to be the father of my children.”

“Fuck, Clarke. I wish we could.”

“I’m going to come again.”

“Me too.”

“Come inside me,” Clarke begs. “Please, put your come in me.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she’s coming again, he second orgasm washing over her, her cunt clenching around him. She draws his orgasm from him, and he fills her with his seed. Like she said, it’s not like she can get any more pregnant.

He stays on top of her as he comes down, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He slips out of her, his come slipping from her cunt and onto the bed. He curses inwardly. He’ll have to change the sheets before Gina gets home, and then come up with an excuse to why he changed them.

“Tell her the dog threw up on the bed,” Clarke says, reading his mind. This lying, cheating thing comes too naturally to both of them.

“This can’t happen again,” Bellamy says, but his hands itch to be on her again already. He places one on her stomach, unable to stop himself. She rests her hand over his.

“I know. Do you feel guilty?”

“Not as much as I should. Do you?”

Clarke shakes her head. “Not really.”

“So much for doing something selfless though, right?” Bellamy snorts.

Clarke flushes at that. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“You’ve done this before? Fucked another woman’s husband?”

“Boyfriend,” Clarke says.

“So what happened?”

“He died. In a car accident. I was driving.”

“Fuck, Clarke,” Bellamy winces.

“Told you I have a lot of shit to make up for. That’s just the start of it.” She pauses, looks down, then back up at him. “Guess I can add you to my list, huh?”

Bellamy shakes his head. “Or maybe I should add you to my list.”

Clarke smiles wryly. “You’re still a good man.”

“Am I?”

“Maybe you’re not. Does that bother you?”

“Does it bother you?”

Clarke bites her lip. “Wish you were a little bit worse, actually. Then we could keep doing this. Then maybe you’d leave her for me.”

“Don’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“Makes me feel—tempted.”

Clarke sits up, and Bellamy’s hand falls from her belly. “I should go.”

Bellamy nods. He starts the process of stripping the bed as Clarke dresses. He lets her go, and part of him wishes he didn’t have to see her again. Part of him knows that being with her just once will never be enough. But it has to be, because he’s married, and he’s starting a family. And Clarke isn’t part of that family, and she never can be.

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #mine

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the-mykie-show · 5 years

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Real women have curves (Negan x plus size reader)

After a backhanded comment from one of the other wives leaves you feeling down about your curves, Negan is there to offer reassurance that you're still hot as hell. Requested by @ninavantastisch

*warnings* fat shaming, body image issues, graphic descriptions of sex.

*rating* explicit

Why does Sherry always have to be such a bitch?

Negan had just brought a brand new box of lingerie back from a run for all the wives to go through. Most of them were excited, you were pretty sure all the wives but you were in it for the perks, the alcohol, the food, the clothes… the sex. None of them actually liked Negan, none of would have agreed to his wife without all that. Except for you.

The other wives knew that you actually had feelings for Negan, they also knew that you weren't skinny like they were and sometimes you were insecure about it. They used that to their full advantage.

Sherry had made the comment “OH sweetie, I doubt that any of this will fit you. I don't think Negan would have bothered raiding the plus size section.” when you went to look through the box of lingerie.

You pretended it didn't phase you but in reality it made tears well up in your eyes.

They were right, you were plus size and they weren't.

It didn't matter if it was the apocalypse or not, the world favored skinny girls.

In fact why the hell did Negan even want you? He could have his pick of 90% of the women at the sanctuary, so why did he pick the fat one?

Speak of the devil. You heard Negan's very distinct knock on the door to your room.

You knew exactly what he wanted, and for once you weren't feeling up to it.

“Go away, Negan! I'm not in the mood.” The door opened anyway.

Shit! You forgot to lock it.

“Are you PMSing or some shit?” he asked, swaggering over to the armchair in the corner of the room where he sat Lucille with gentle reverence that was reserved only for the bat.

“No. It's not my period you asshole.” you growl.

“Than what is it? If you ain't feeling fucking tonight that's fine, you know you can always say no anytime, but something is wrong and I'm not leaving until you tell me about it.” the man had an ironclad will, he wasn't joking when he said that he wouldn't leave. Might as well get this over with.

“Why did you ask me to be a wife?” you said, not bothering to look at him.

“Because you're hot as hell, you can deep throat, you're down to fuck like 98% of the time.” you expected the superficial sex answers but what he said next surprised you.

“And you're not whiny and entitled, we actually have conversations that go deeper than surface level, and you're the only one out of all my wives who actually gives a flying fuck about me.” you unburied your head from your blankets and looked at him, shocked.

“But I'm not like the others.”

“That's precisely the point, you're nothing like them, and that's why you're my favorite.” what? Was he bullshiting you?

“I'm your favorite?” you practically snort.

“Yep. I barely even fuck the others anymore, mostly just when you're on the rag or in a mood and I'm getting blue balls.”

“See, now I know you're lying because blue balls isn't a thing.” you couldn't dare let yourself hope he was being honest.

“Blue balls is a thing, and I'm dead ass serious.”

“So you don't care that I'm fat?”

“For Christ's sakes is that what this is about? What the fuck gave you that idea?” he seemed to legitimately believe his words.

“Everyone sees it, Negan. I'm not thin, I'm not pretty, I'm not sexy like the other girls.”

“What the fuck makes you think that your weight makes you any less hot? I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if I didn't think you were hot, and I sure as fuck wouldn't have done the things we've done in that bed right there if I wasn't into you. Now please explain to me who the hell made you feel like this so Lucille and I can go have a chat with them.”

“It's nobody in particular, just society.” He didn't believe you, you could tell.

“It was Sherry wasn't it? That woman is always running her mouth. You know she only said that shit because she's jealous of you, right?”

“Oh yeah, I'm sure she's just jealous of me with her gorgeous figure and half the sanctuary clambering to have sex with her.”

“Well than they can have her, because I haven't fucked her in months.” he couldn't actually be telling the truth could he? There was no way he was turning down the five other gorgeous women he had at his disposal for you. A little voice in the back of your head kept reminding you that Negan had never lied to you about anything else, so why would he start now?

“ I can tell that you still think I'm bullshiting you. So I guess I'll just have to prove it to you.” he walked over to your bed, and pulled all the covers off of you.

“Hey! What did you do that for?”

“ I'm going to prove it to you. You're gonna get up and strip for me, and then I’m going to fuck you till you can’t walk straight.” You wanted to protest, inform him that you would not be doing any of that he would be leaving now. But on the other hand, his words sent a shockwave of arousal through your body, and you really didn’t feel like taking care of yourself once he left tonight. You hadn’t had to masterbate in so long, you weren’t even sure you remembered how. Negan kept you satisfied enough that you barely ever felt the need to touch yourself anymore.

You gave in. Sitting up on the bed you get on your knees, sitting on your feet, and slowly strip off your tank top, leaving you in a lacy black bra that left little to the imagination, one of Negan's favorites on you.

You stand up and go to edge of the bed, turning to face the bed you peel your shorts off taking time to roll them over your round ass and down your legs to reveal the matching black panties you're wearing, you wiggle your ass a little with the movement of your hips, wanting some friction against your core where you can already feel some wetness starting to gather.

“uh-huh, that's enough babygirl, just stay there.” Negan comes up behind you, pushing your top half down onto the bed so you're bent over, ass in the air. He gives your ass a light smack, and then rubs his hand across it before before rolling your panties down to meet your shorts on the floor.

The sudden blast of cool air on your exposed core makes you shudder.

Negan's hands each grab an ass cheek kneading them and spreading them apart. He was such an ass man, and you had a lot of ass for him to love. Usually you hated it, but Negan had a way of making you love your curves.

He lightly kicks your legs further apart and kneels down behind you, you let out surprised moan as you feel his tongue lap at your clit, and then circle your entrance. His mouth teases your sensitive folds, while his hands hold your ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading them.

His tongue teases you until you're on the verge of coming and then pulls away, making you groan in frustration.

“Just stay like that, I want to take you from behind.” your heat pulses with need as Negan takes off his clothes and pumps himself a couple of times.

You brace yourself against the bed, getting yourself ready for the pounding you're about to take.

He lines himself up with your entrance and slides himself in with one thrust of his hips, fast enough to make you lose your breath but slow enough that you feel every inch. You moan and squirm pushing your ass back against Negan's hips to push him deeper inside you.

Negan is well endowed, and he knows what to do with it. Every time with him feels like your first time, the feeling of being so full but so needy at the same time. The feeling is even more intense in this position, you were kicking yourself for not trying it sooner. He'd asked to have you from behind several times, but you were always to self conscious to let him, worried about how your body would look, so exposed like this. For the first time you weren't worried about that.

“You like it from behind don't you? You like feeling me fill you up nice and deep, while I get to take in the awesome view of that gorgeous ass.” his hands were on your ass again, this time he delivered a rather hard swat that made you jump before he soothed the stinging skin with a soft rub. He spanked you a few more times, and you realized quickly that you liked it, each time the impact sent a shockwave of pleasure into your core and made your walls clench, each time he groaned.

He finally placed a hand on each ass cheek and spread them wide apart, watching himself slide in and out of your slick heat. You moan with the sudden rush of pleasure you feel as he picks up the pace, hitting a little sweet spot you never knew you had deep inside you with each stroke until the pressure becomes so much that you think you're going to explode. Not giving you any time to think about your insecurities.

“Look at how good you take it from this angle, my dirty girl! I bet that little pussy is just aching right now huh? Well come on babygirl soak my cock with that sweet release, and then I'm going to come all over that ass.”

And his words combined with a perfectly timed thrust send you over the edge, making you cry out in pleasure as the most intense orgasm of your life over takes your body, the pleasure comes in waves, all of which Negan fucks you through while you grip the sheets under you, holding on for dear life.

Then you feel something a little strange, a warm rush of liquid between your legs, at first you're mortified and you're about to apologize, but then Negan keeps on fucking you, not even faltering a single stroke. “that's it babygirl, soak my cock”

And then you feel a pleasure like no other, a warm tingle that makes your toes curl and your head spin, all you can do is let out a surprised little whine at the feeling. Your core is still spasming when Negan pulls out and pumps himself until he comes on your ass cheeks with a load, absolutely lewd moan.

You feel drunk, utterly stratified, like he'd scratched some itch you didn't know you'd had until it was gone, your thighs feel sticky with your release, and you can literally feel your clit and G-spot pulse with leftover pleasure.

What was that? You vaguely remember reading things about squirting in magazines before the world ended, but you never gave it much thought or thought it was something you were capable of.

“You alright baby?” he asks with a smug smirk.

You nod.

“Do you believe me now?” and for once you do. You never pictured the moment you finally loved your curves would include your thighs being sticky with your own come but you aren't complaining.

“Those other girls, well that's exactly what they are. Girls, you're a real woman, Y/N.”

Hope you liked it @ninavantastisch

Also tagging @negans-network

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#negan #twd negan #negan's thrist squad #negan fic #negan smut #negan x reader #the walking dead negan #negan fanfiction #negan reader insert #the walking dead fanfiction #mykie writes #negan fic requests #negan requests

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