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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Infatuation

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: It’s not a secret that Corpse prefers taking care of his hair himself rather than going to a hair salon to get it trimmed and/or tampered. However, he only has so much knowledge of how to properly do it without having to obliterate his budget. Luckily, his girlfriend comes to his rescue.

Requested by Anon. Hi lovely! Thank you so much for the incredibly fluffy request! I’ve been very pumped to write it and now here it finally is - so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but I still hope you come across it and give it a read! Love, Vy ❤

“Um, what are you doing?“

I just walked into Corpse’s apartment to find him barricaded in the bathroom, giving himself a hair appointment. We were supposed to have a chill night in watching movies, but it seems to me like those plans will either have to be delayed or canceled, given the chaotic state both Corpse and his bathroom are in. I mean, how dumb was I to expect he was actually doing his hair justice when he told me he styled it himself? Why didn’t that immediately raise an army of red flags in my head and lead me to question his methods?

I’m honestly quite jealous of Corpse’s hair. It’s always so soft and silky and no matter how much or how little effort he’s put in it, it always looks good: either evidently carefully styled or boyishly messy, it leaves me with heart-eyes regardless. But to see him massacre it like this, it makes me wish I could report it as a crime.

“Ain’t obvious?“ He sounds rather frustrated and I feel at least slightly better due to this fact. He deserves to be as frustrated as I am by the sight of the crap he’s doing. “Sorry, you’re gonna have to wait for me for...a little while. I just need to get this under control and, um, clean the mess. Sorry for ruining your night like this, babe. I-I really wasn’t planning on it to take this long but I forgot to buy one of the products and I thought I could wing it without it but...I very clearly can’t so...“

“Please, stop talking. I don’t need to know what sins you’ve committed - if I do I’ll probably have to give you the silent treatment for like a week or so.“ I call out to him as I quickly skip over to the kitchen to leave the food I bought on my way over before returning to the bathroom and carefully taking a step inside, mindful of where there are hair strands on the tiles. Even severed, his hair is beautiful and I have a ton of respect for it - ok fine, I adore it. Corpse definitely doesn’t appreciate it properly. I walk over to the shower, reaching out to the two shelves inside which are lined with different types of hair products. “Oh fuck...“ I let out the whisper without even realizing it because I’m so stunned by the brands I see on those shelves. “Corpse, um, what the actual fuck?”

He turns to me, eyes wide and terrified because of my menacing tone. “What? What is it?” His gaze searches the spot where mine was just pointed at, looking for anything that could’ve provoked such a reaction from me. Seeing nothing but the hair products, he meets my deadly glare yet again, “What’s wrong?”

Alright, this man-child needs some serious help

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong.“ I say, stomping towards the exit of the bathroom, “You’re gonna stay here and wait for me to come back and don’t you DARE, even touch your hair, let alone bring a pair of scissors or any chemical near it. Copy?“

“Copied and pasted, ma’am.“ He salutes me, knowing better than to ask questions when I enter my commander role. There are quite a few things that set me off into this bossy-ass persona, and hair mistreatment is most definitely one of them. Thing is, Corpse doesn’t know that. Well, he didn’t know that, pretty sure he’s guessed it by now.

Feeling myself soften at his obedience and trust, I give him a smile and a wink over my shoulder as I go to grab my bag and leave the apartment to complete my mission, “Good boy.”

* * *

“Isn’t that a lot better?“ I ask, gently running my fingers through Corpse’s freshly cut, washed and dried hair. I’ve spent a good five minutes just smoothing through it with my fingers. I bet he’s expecting me to say ‘my precious‘ at any moment now, and trust me it’s tempting, but I still don’t, I won’t give him the pleasure of predicting my actions. Wow, we’ve really reached that level of being familiar with one another that I predict that he’s predicting what I’m gonna do next. While I’m a guessing game for him, I tend to think of myself as more of an open book. You just gotta be fluent in the language it’s written in to understand it.

I’ve gone off-topic, my bad.

“Yeah, you’re a lot less scary now.“ He tells me, his hand finding mine in his hair and taking it to his lips to place a kiss on my knuckles.

We’re positioned so that we’re in front of the bathroom mirror with Corpse seated in a chair in front of me and I’m for once in my life towering over him from behind. Our height difference was threatening to be a hinderance in my work on his hair, but we easily figured it out.

I can’t help but laugh, “You know what I meant.“ I curl one of his already curly strands around the pointer finger of the hand that’s still wandering around the soft dark curls while the other remains in his gentle hold, resting on his shoulder.

“And you know what I meant.“ He shifts in his seat to look at me directly, not via the mirror, “Since when do you have a hair infatuation?“

I roll my eyes and retract my hands, defensively folding my arms over my chest, “It’s not an infatuation with hair, dummy. It’s an infatuation with your hair.” I correct him, doing quick work of styling the stray strands that fall over his forehead and eyes. “I really like your hair, you already know that. I can’t handle the thought you’re doing such a shitty job taking care of it.”

He shrugs, furrowing his brows, “Hey, I was buying top-shelf products, cost me a fortune every month, my hair was being treated like royalty.”

I roll my eyes once again, “High price doesn’t always equal high quality, Corpse. Did you ever stop to read what was in those products?” I don’t let him answer, I don’t need him to confirm what I already know. “Even if you did - which you didn’t - you wouldn’t know what each of those ingredients do to your hair. You see, taking care of hair, especially hair like yours, takes patience and knowledge. It’s practically an art form. It’s not like you can just buy any product that has ‘suitable for curly hair’ on it. There’s a lot more to that.”

It’s only after I finish my monologue that I realize he’s looking at me with amazed amusement in his gaze, almost like a parent listening to their kid talk about their wish of becoming an astronaut. “Since when do you know so much about hair? You’ve been using the same shampoo and conditioner since I know you and now you wanna lecture me on hair care?”

I raise an eyebrow at him, exasperated by his stubbornness on the matter, “Who said being consistent with your hair products is a bad thing? You know, frequent changing of brands has the potential of being damaging as much as aiding.” I explain with the most amount of patience I can muster, now taking over the parent role myself, “And as for your previous question, I know so much because my mother is a hairdresser.”

His eyes widen in surprise. I can practically see the gears in his brain turning as he tries to recall if I’ve ever told him this before.

“How come I don’t know that?“ He asks finally after a long moment of silence. “Why haven’t you told me?”

“You ask that as though I just tell you things like that on the regular. Did you also want me to drop the info that my dad’s a mechanic in passing conversation about video games? Cause that’s a little hard to shoehorn in....“ He cuts off my sarcastic rambling with a brief peck to the lips. He’s the only person allowed to shut me up, and only like that. Anything else will earn him either an earful or a silent treatment.

Just kidding....unless...

“So, does that mean you’re continuing the family business?“ he asks when he pulls away, “I mean, you’re technically my personal hairdresser now.“

I furrow my brows playfully, “Wait, what? Since when?”

“Since I hired you approximately an hour ago.“ He beams up at me, satisfied that I’ve fallen in his trap.

“And what about my payment?“ I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

He looks to be contemplating for a second before he stands up from the chair, taking my hand in his leading me out of the bathroom, “Well, each appointment you’ll give me a different price, Miss Y/L/N. But, considering today was your first day, I choose to pay you with dinner.“ He sends a wink my way, laughing when he’s met with an unamused expression on my part as I stop in my tracks, causing him to halt his movements as well.

“You really plan on paying me with the dinner I bought?“ I raise an eyebrow at him, freeing my hand from his so I can put both my hands on my hips for the complete 'I’m far from impressed’ look.

“Yeah...? Problem?“ He asks, faking nervousness and guilt as he closes the distance between us, once again returning to the default of towering over me instead of it being the other way around.

“Several actually. First of all...“ I raise my finger in the air accusingly, ready to go off but the arm that wraps around my waist and lifts me off the ground causes my words to die down, evaporating in a frightened squeal, “Corpse no!! Put me down!“

Of course, he ignores me, carrying me into the living room while I don’t know whether to thrash or stay as still as possible.

Tsk, so much for gratitude

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pedroscurls · 7 years

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Title: Coach Negan (Part 8.)

CHAPTER TITLE: A Blast From the Past

Character(s): Negan and Reader (pre-apocalypse/AU) Summary: Someone from your past decides to pay a visit. Word Count: 4,926 Warning: SMUT!!! (Angry, dirty sex). Author’s Note: HUGE THANKS TO @jedemo FOR BEING MY BETA!!! <3

After the first win of the game, the rest of the team were on a victorious high. Negan did a perfect job of maintaining their confidence, even in practice. At first, you and the rest of the girls were hesitant in believing that you were all capable of being the best team at the University, but after winning the first game, everyone started to believe in themselves.

Your relationship with Negan had progressed. Excluding class and practice, you spent majority of your time with Negan. However, whenever you wanted to be alone with him, you would always end up at his apartment, though occasionally, he would also stay at yours. Taylor enjoyed having him over, especially since you always fell victim to their relentless teasing; they had become good friends, and loved to outnumber you.

Occasionally, Taylor complained about how loud the two of you were during sex. You always tried to remain mindful of your roommate, but Negan was just too good to keep quiet. You figured he enjoyed teasing Taylor by making you scream during sex, especially since he showed up with a present that turned out to be noise-cancelling headphones.

Taylor had advised you to just “go with the flow,” but it was never your intention to fall for him. The more time you spent with Negan, the harder you fell. It terrified you to know that you had moved on and were now finally happy.

That morning, you awoke with an arm draped over your waist. You could feel Negan’s warmth radiating from behind with his quiet snores near your ear. You smiled and pressed yourself against him, placing your hand over his. The sex was incredible and breathtaking, but it was moments like these that made it clear your relationship with Negan was more than just physical attraction.

“You’re moving too much,” he whispered. You enjoyed mornings with Negan, especially when he woke up. His morning voice was rougher than usual, and it made your insides tingle.

“Sorry,” you replied, turning your head to kiss his forehead.

Negan grunted, squeezing you tighter as he rested his chin against your shoulder. He relaxed and slowly evened his breathing, falling into a light slumber. Moving slowly as to not wake him, you lied on your back and up to run your fingers across his jaw and up to his hairline where your stroked his dark locks away from his face.

He hummed quietly, moving closer to you before his eyes fluttered open. “Is this my alarm clock? Should I be awake now?”

You laughed quietly, leaning up to peck his lips. “I was just admiring how handsome you are, but if you want me to stop so that you can get more sleep, I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”

“No… It’s okay. I’m awake,” he replied, looking down at you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Slept great. I always do when I’m with you.” You smiled, resting a hand to rest on his hip.

Rolling on his back, Negan chuckled and pulled you to straddle his lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you down so your lips hovered near his own. “I’d say you slept like a fucking rock after the fuck I gave you last night.”

You blushed, moving to bury your face against the crook of his neck. “Uh huh.”

Negan smiled, running a hand along your lower back absently. “Uh huh? That’s your response? Come on, baby. You were such a good girl for me last night.”

“Shush.” You bit your lower lip and leaned up to cover his mouth. “I remember.”

Negan arched a brow and pulled your hand away, gently nibbling at your fingertip. “Do you? Maybe I should remind you. I distinctly remember you coming three times. Mm, the way your walls tightened around my dick and the way you drowned me in your sweet juices… Damn, baby.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to move away from him. Negan shook his head and rolled you onto your back, keeping you pinned to the bed with your hands above your head.

“I remember exactly what happened last night,” you repeated.

“I just thought you needed a verbal reminder,” he said and winked. “Are you sore?”

“Just a bit.”

“Good,” Negan chuckled, climbing off the bed once he released you. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“Are you going to allow me to help you this time?” You laughed, grabbing Negan’s shirt from the floor to slip over your bare frame. You stood and walked towards him, running your fingertips down his exposed chest.

“What if I want you to just sit there and look pretty?”

Standing on your toes, you smiled and pecked his lips. “Not going to happen.”

“Well, then I suppose you’re helping me. Eggs and bacon sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

After breakfast, you and Negan ended up having sex in the kitchen while you were washing the dishes. He took advantage of the fact that you were only wearing his t-shirt and panties that he easily slid the flimsy fabric to the side before sliding his enlarged length into your tight heat. It had taken you by surprise and you dropped the pan into the sink at the sudden intrusion.

Your trysts with Negan always lasted longer than you thought possible, but this time you sensed Negan’s urge to finish. His thrusts were erratic, but maintained their deep, long strokes that you had come to love.

You were bracing yourself against the edge of the sink, grasping onto the edges of it as Negan’s strong arms wrapped around your waist. His hips canted against your own and his lips hovered near your ear as he breathed heavily against you.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, delivering a sharp thrust that caused you to bump into the counter. “I couldn’t help it… Seeing you in my shirt and your panties… Your legs were just begging to be spread… I needed you… Always fuckin’ do, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered closed. Negan’s dirty talk always turned you on, and he knew it. You pushed back against him, feeling every inch of him slide within your walls that it almost caused a bit of pain at how deep he had gotten. Though, your slickness lubricated his cock that it allowed for smooth thrusts in and out of your depths.

Once you felt the slightest touch against your clit, you came undone. You pushed roughly back against him as Negan continued his assault, allowing you to ride out your climax before he reached his own high. When he pulled out, Negan adjusted your panties back in place before placing a gentle slap against your butt cheek.

“Couldn’t wait?” you asked breathlessly, looking over your shoulder at him.

“With you? Never.”

After spending the night at Negan’s apartment, dropped you off at your home after breakfast and the shower you took together. You wondered how a man of his age had such a high sex drive because you were left panting and ultimately exhausted while he was ready for another round. Though, you didn’t mind because Negan was a very attentive partner. He catered to your need, but he also didn’t hesitate to have you cater to his. It was an equal balance of dominance, but you always yearned to be the submissive. You had grown to love to be dominated, especially by Negan.

He stayed for a few hours at your apartment and while you studied in your bedroom, Negan studied the plays for the team. You always rested your cheek against his shoulder with your legs curled underneath you, and Negan always had his hand placed protectively on your thigh. You assumed it was his way of asserting dominance and showing you that you belonged to him. You didn’t mind, though. You loved it when his hands were on you.

“What time will you be at practice today?” he asked, interrupting the silence.

“The same time I usually arrive. Why?”

“I was just wondering if you want to show up a bit early and help me go over these plays,” Negan smiled mischievously.

“Oh, is that a subtle hint for something else?” you laughed, shutting your book and setting it aside.

“That depends… Maybe,” he winked.

You took his playbook from his grasp and set it aside, slinging your leg over his lap to straddle him. Negan’s hands immediately rested on your hips and he leaned up to peck your lips, holding you close against him.

“I can help you go over some of the plays right now if you’d like,” you whispered, slowly moving your lips against his.

“Mm, definitely… You should definitely help me go over these plays,” he growled, moving his hands further down to grasp your backside in his large hands.

His lips moved against yours, parting his easily as you slid your tongue past his lips. Negan groaned, kneading your plump backside in his grasp as he flicked his tongue against your own, causing a quiet whimper to escape your lips. Slowly, you rolled your hips against his, feeling the growing bulge from beneath his jeans.

Before it could progress, Taylor flung the door open and began speaking. “Hey! I was thinking we should—Oh shit.”

Immediately, you pulled away from Negan and scrambled off his lap. You glanced over at him and placed a pillow over his obvious erection beneath his pants. Negan groaned, glancing over at Taylor before he shut his eyes and rested his head back against the wall.

“Taylor!”

“Sorry, sorry! I mean, I know I saw Negan’s bike out there, but I didn’t expect you two to be getting it on. I mean, how many times do you both have sex? Honestly?” Taylor asked, placing a hand on her hip. “I’m intrigued.”

Negan’s cheeks reddened, opening one eye to look at Taylor who had an amused grin on her lips. “You’re having far too much fun with this, doll.”

“What can I say? My roommate deserves a good fuck, especially after her last relationship.”

“Taylor! Please,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and shaking your head. “I’m over him.”

“Oh, I know you are. I’m glad you have Negan. He looks like he can take great care of you. I’m sure you take extra care of her, huh, Neegs?” Taylor smiled, winking in his direction.

“Yes, Taylor. In and out of the bedroom, I take care of her. Now, can I continue my make out session with my girl? It was getting somewhere,” Negan chuckled, grasping your hand to gently pull you to his side. “As much as I love an audience, I think I want to keep this private.”

Taylor laughed quietly, looking over at you before back at Negan. It was nice to have a roommate so understanding and laid back that she was oddly okay with walking in on you in the middle of getting ready to have sex with your partner. While your cheeks remained red, Taylor’s look of amusement lessened the embarrassment. She was your best friend and there were no secrets between you, so you relaxed.

“Yes, of course! Sorry. Get your freak on,” Taylor winked.

You turned your head to bury your face against Negan’s neck and heard the door quietly shut. Negan chuckled to himself, looking down at you as he gently pulled you back enough so that he could look into your eyes. “Well, that ruined the mood.”

“Probably for the best. We’ve got practice in a couple of hours,” you replied, leaning up to peck his lips.

“You’re right. I should probably get going. I’ll see you tonight.” Negan climbed out of your bed and slid on his shoes, pulling you to the edge by your legs as he pressed himself against you. You bit your lower lip and propped yourself up by your hands, keeping your legs spread for him as he slowly rolled his hips into you.

“Negan…” you moaned, feeling his bulge brush against you repeatedly.

“Mm, sorry, baby. I just can’t get enough of you.”

“I know,” you giggled, leaning up to peck his lips. “But you really have to go. I’ll see you later.”

Once Negan left, you walked to Taylor’s room where she was sitting at her desk on her laptop. You sat on her bed and lied back, sighing contentedly as she swiveled in her chair to look at you.

“What’s up?” she asked, leaning back against her seat.

“What do you think Negan and I are to each other?”

“What do you mean?” Taylor arched a brow, watching you carefully.

“I mean, do you think we’re boyfriend and girlfriend? I’m not used to all of this. I’m a bit scared at how fast I’m falling,” you admitted. You sighed and turned your attention to your best friend who had a small grin on her face.

“You’re his girl,” Taylor repeated. “We’re at that age where having a label isn’t necessary. You like him. He obviously likes you. You’re both just seeing where this takes you guys. Why are you asking all of a sudden?”

“I just haven’t felt this way in a long time since Mark, you know?”

“He’s a douchebag. Always thought he was, you know that.” Taylor sighed. She stood from her chair to lie next to you, staring up at the ceiling. “What’s really bothering you?”

“I think I’m falling too fast for Negan,” you sighed, glancing over at her. “And I’m scared that I’m moving too fast with how I’m feeling. The sex is beyond amazing, but the time we spend together that doesn’t involve sex is just as great. I can see myself doing just normal, everyday things with him. Cooking breakfast, cleaning the house, studying or doing work in the office… Is that weird?”

Taylor shook her head, offering you a look of understanding. She pulled you to her side as you both gazed upon the ceiling as if it would produce a miraculous answer that you were yearning for. You needed validation, or at least someone to tell you that what you were feeling was completely normal.

“I think it’s fine. Look, you had a tough relationship before Negan. Are you moving too fast with how you’re feeling? Maybe, but you and I both know that feelings are out of our control. Once it happens, there’s no way around it. Like I said before… Go with the flow. It’s working fine,” Taylor advised. She had been through the countless nights where you had cried yourself to sleep because of Mark, but she also knew that you had always been hesitant with men and relationships. Negan was no different except for the fact that Taylor liked him. He seemed to tell it like it is and with his harsh bluntness, Negan knew what he wanted. It was you.

“This morning when I woke up and he was holding me… I just felt so comfortable that it was almost too normal. Too familiar,” you began. “I found myself yearning more for moments like that, Taylor. He makes me happy and I know it’s dangerous because he’s still my coach, but I can’t help it.”

“Go with the flow… Trust me. If it’s meant to work out, it will.”

After your conversation with Taylor, you felt more at ease. You were heading to practice, but the only thought on your mind was Negan. Maybe you were falling for him a little too fast, but like Taylor said, feelings weren’t meant to be controlled. Instead, you had to remind yourself that allowing things to run its course was a better option that would benefit you both in the future. Hopefully.

As you climbed out of your car and walked into the gym, you saw a familiar person sitting on the bleachers while the rest of the girls were warming up. You froze. Your heart stopped. Just when things were finally going right in your life, he decided to show up and turn it all upside down. You avoided his gaze and settled with placing your duffle bag on the other end of the steps to distance yourself from him. Your chest felt tight, and all the memories you shared with him came flooding back. The good, the bad. It was a tumultuous relationship that ultimately ended for the better. Regardless, you couldn’t even glance at him without remembering what he had done to you, or the promises he had broken. It was ironic how your conversation with Taylor happened just hours ago and now, your ex-boyfriend was sitting mere feet away from you.

You slid into your shoes, tying them carefully before Mark walked towards you. You noticed his sneakers squeak against the court, but when he finally sat next to you, you immediately stood and shook your head.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“You didn’t tell me you made the basketball team,” Mark said softly. “I didn’t even know you wanted to try out.”

“That’s because you never listened to a thing I told you,” you spat.

“I see that you’re still mad at me,” he sighed. “I told you I was sorry.”

“Yeah, well, an apology isn’t going to undo what you did and it certainly won’t give me back two years of my life, will it, Mark?”

“I’m sorry. I made a mistake,” he said quietly, reaching for your hand.

You shook your head and took a step back. You glanced over your shoulder to see that the girls were still freely shooting while Negan was watching you carefully. You could sense the anger in his features, but he did his best to hide it with an irritated gaze.

“Why are you here?” you asked again.

“I just wanted to talk, I guess.”

“It’s too late for that. We’re done, Mark. Nothing will happen between us. Ever. I made the mistake of going back to you many times in our relationship, but this is where I draw the line.”

“You’re with someone, aren’t you?” Mark glared, standing from the bleachers. For a moment, you saw a hint of pain flash in his eyes at the thought of you with someone else.

“You thought I would wait for you to come back? I’m not the same person. Catching you in bed with that—that girl broke me, Mark. You promised me that she was just a classmate, just someone to study with… You lied to me!” you exclaimed, your voice echoing throughout the gym. You heard the basketballs cease their dribbling and Mark reached out for you, but you quickly retracted. “Get out of here, and never come back. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“You were supposed to be the girl I was going to marry,” he whispered.

“Well, you fucked that up, didn’t you?”

Before Mark could respond, Negan blew his whistle and you quickly ran to the court. You glanced over your shoulder to see Mark leaving the gym with his head hung low. You were irritated, and you were upset. You had imagined this moment many times since your break-up with Mark, yet, you weren’t expecting to feel more anger.

Negan noticed your change in demeanor. You were always excited for practice, but even the rest of the girls could tell that you were acting strangely. No one wanted to bring up the obvious, so throughout practice, there was a big elephant in the room that no one wanted to address. You wanted someone to say something, to lash out or to just explode with emotions, but no one spoke up.

“All right. We’re running suicides. Four times around. Let’s go,” Negan ordered.

“Are you serious?” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes. “We just did this shit earlier.”

“Excuse me?” Negan asked, arching a brow. “Do you have something to say, doll?”

“I’m just wondering why we have to run suicides again. It’s stupid. We need to focus on our plays and—”

“I don’t care what you think we should do. If I say we run suicides, we run suicides.” Negan glared. He had grown irritated by your behavior throughout practice and deep down, he knew it had something to do with the man he saw you with earlier, but he couldn’t help his anger. He had to show you, and the rest of the girls, that he was in charge. No one else.

“Whatever,” you mumbled. “Just blow the whistle then, Coach.”

Negan narrowed his eyes, bringing the whistle to his lips before he decided to speak. “I said four, right? Make that fuckin’ ten.” He blew the whistle and watched you roll your eyes before running down the court.

Your mind was blurred by Mark’s impromptu visit that you didn’t care that you were undermining Negan’s authority. You knew you would apologize later, but seeing Mark brought all the anger and frustrations back at the forefront of your mind. Negan thought you would get tired by the third round of suicides, but your anger fueled your adrenaline and you sped past the ten suicides he assigned. However, you and the rest of the girls were panting heavily and sweat dripped down your temples.

“Take a ten-minute break. Afterwards, we’re going to scrimmage until the end of practice,” Negan stated, turning on his heel to walk to the middle of the court.

You watched him leave, biting your lower lip as you walked to your bag. You took a large gulp of water and swallowed it eagerly, noticing the note that Mark had left. You tightened your jaw and crumpled the piece of paper before tossing it into the trashcan nearby. You could feel Negan’s gaze on you and when you looked in his direction, his eyes softened but there was still a hint of frustration.

After ten minutes, you were separated into teams and began the scrimmage. Negan advised that you all incorporate the plays you were taught to practice it more thoroughly. The anger took over and you made mistake after mistake, causing Negan to get angry with you.

“Doll, what the fuck are you doing? Run offense! This isn’t a one-woman team!” Negan yelled.

“I know!” you spat, staring at him.

“No, it seems like you don’t. You have four other fuckin’ players that are wide open and yet, you take a shot that doesn’t even go in. Run the goddamn play or I’m benching you the next game.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, running the play to Negan’s liking. Though, the rest of the girls noticed how you weren’t putting your effort into it like you usually did. So instead, they decided to take initiative and leave you out of the playmaking process. Negan must have taken notice, but he didn’t say a word. You were getting frustrated that no one had given you the ball, but before you could protest, Negan blew the whistle and called the practice to an end.

“Don’t bring your personal problems into this gym. Once you step foot on this court, I want you thinking about basketball, and nothing else,” he stated, looking around the group of girls before settling his gaze on you. “Later on in the week, I will be calling each and every one of you for individual conferences. So, be sure to keep an eye out for my phone call. I’ll see you all next practice. Have a good night.”

The girls nodded and retreated to their bags. Just as you were walking away, Negan snapped his fingers and called out your name which prompted you to stop walking and turn around to look at him.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

“If I say no, will you let me go?” you sneered.

“No, but I figured I’d be polite and ask.”

“Whatever,” you shrugged, walking to your bag. When the girls waved in your direction, you returned it with a half-smile and picked your bag to drape over your shoulder. The gym had emptied, so you walked to the locker room to retrieve the few clothes you had placed there previously.

Negan walked inside, whistling quietly as he approached you. “You want to tell me what’s going on, doll?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Negan.”

“You’re lying, and you know how much I hate liars.”

You sighed, shutting your locket once you placed the clothes in your bag. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to lash out on you like that.”

“Who was that guy anyway?”

“Ex-boyfriend…”

“The ex-boyfriend?” Negan asked, stepping towards you. He reached out for your hand and you eagerly took it, lacing your fingers together with his own.

“Yeah. I didn’t expect him to show up here, or ever.”

“Well, I’ll let this one time slide,” he said softly, leaning down to peck your lips. Negan lingered when he pulled away, but he grasped your jaw with one hand and forced you to maintain eye contact. You noticed how dark his eyes had gotten and immediately, you felt arousal hit you like a freight train. You released his hand to rest both of your own on his chest, trying to push him away to play his game, but instead, he used his free arm to wrap around your waist and pull you close to him.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated.

Negan nodded, “I know, but next time you talk back, I’m going to put your pretty little mouth to something useful other than the shit you’ve said today.”

“You promise?” you blinked innocently.

“Oh, you fuckin’ minx.”

You blushed, leaning up to peck his lips, tugging on his lower lip roughly. “Allow me to make it up to you?”

“What do you have in mind, doll?”

“Get on your back,” you ordered.

Negan narrowed his eyes, lying on the bench. You noticed the large tent growing beneath his sweats and slowly, you pulled it down to his knees to reveal his throbbing cock. You dropped your shorts and panties, climbing out of them once the fabric of clothing pooled around your ankles. Without allowing Negan to take control, you straddled his waist, grasped his cock and slammed yourself down onto him.

He groaned, moving his hands to your hips as you felt his fingertips dig into your skin roughly. You moaned, the sudden intrusion causing a slight pressure within your depths. You rested your hands on his chest and stared into his eyes, beginning to rapidly move your hips in a forward and backward motion as he remained deep inside of your tight heat.

“Fuck,” he groaned, looking up at you. Negan moved his hands to grasp your buttocks, urging you to move quicker. You felt every inch of him inside you, causing your eyes to fall shut as your fingertips dug into his chest from the white t-shirt he was wearing.

“Negan…” you moaned loudly.

“Fuck, that’s right baby… Show me how sorry you are. Fuck, ride that dick,” he growled. As you slowly circled your hips, Negan groaned and rested his head back against the bench. He forced himself to remain still and give you control, especially since your movements were causing him so much pleasure that he had never felt before. Negan knew he could come right then and there, but he wanted this to last as long as possible.

“Oh god,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to bounce on his length. As you moved your hips along his length, you felt your slickness give way to your movements, allowing you to slide along his cock with ease.

Negan guided you along the way, lifting you up and down his throbbing cock as he slowly began to lift his own hips for further penetration. He wanted you to feel him deep inside of your walls that you felt it tingle along every inch of your body. However, once he kept you lifted, you furrowed a brow before you felt his hips slam into you repeatedly from an upward angle.

Immediately, you elicited a loud moan and felt the tip of his cock hammer repeatedly against your sweet spot. With each thrust, you felt yourself near climax, every inch of his manhood eliciting a pleasurable noise to escape your lips.

It was when Negan slammed you down onto his cock as he thrust upwards that caused you to reach your high. You had begun rolling your hips rapidly while your walls tightened even further around his cock, milking him to his own release.

Negan groaned, cupping the back of your neck and bringing you down for an intense kiss. He parted your lips immediately, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he kissed you with such ferocity that it almost took your breath away. With one last thrust, Negan released into you and groaned against your lips.

You shuddered against him, feeling his warm seed fill you completely. Slowly, you pulled away from the kiss and lifted yourself off his length. You watched as he remained on his back on the bench, panting heavily as if he was trying to catch his breath. When you met his eyes, he offered a lazy smile before sitting up to pull his boxers and sweatpants up to his waist. You slid on your panties and shorts, looking down at him before leaning in to peck his lips.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” you said softly.

“After that fuckin’ ride, apology accepted. How about we go on home and I can give you the punishment you deserve?” Negan smiled, grabbing your bag.

“Feed me first?”

Negan chuckled, pecking your lips lightly. “All right, all right. Let’s go, dirty girl.”

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