Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8808535.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Walking_Dead_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Carl_Grimes/Negan
  Character:
      Carl_Grimes, Negan_(Walking_Dead)
  Additional Tags:
      PWP, porn_without_plot/plot_what_plot, blink-and-you'll-miss-it_Daddy
      Kink, smutshot
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-10 Words: 1265
****** pretty pretty miscalculation ******
by problematic_pleasures
Summary
     It's not quite Carl's 'childhood bedroom,' but it's close enough for
     Negan.
Notes
     unrepentant smut, that's all this is.
Carl hits the bed with a muffled thump and he gasps as Negan covers his body.
They’re both fully clothed, safe for their shoes that they kicked off at the
bedroom door. Carl’s heart is beating like a jackrabbit and his cock is stiff
in his pants.
“So pretty,” Negan says. He brushes Carl’s hair back to expose all of the
younger’s man’s face, particularly his injured eye. “God damn beautiful.” Negan
lowers himself until they’re aligned from shoulder to knees, their groins
pressed together. Negan kisses Carl brief and hard on the lips. “Gonna fuck you
right here,” he warns, “gonna make sure you scream so loud everyone hears.”
A moan falls from Carl’s lips even as he glares at Negan. He grips the lapels
of Negan’s leather jacket and leans up enough to bite at Negan’s lower lip and
tug. “Do it, then.” He spreads his legs wider and rolls his hips.
Negan laughs. He makes quick work of Carl’s flannel shirt, tosses it aside and
leaves the grimy t-shirt on. He sits back enough to yank off Carl’s jeans and
disposes of them just as carelessly. Underwear is next, and socks, until Carl
is entirely nude save for the t-shirt clinging to his body. Negan pulls off his
own belt and undoes his pants; the slide just far enough down his hips to
expose his rock hard dick.
“Y’got lube?” Negan asks as he strokes himself.
Carl reaches out to the bedside table and digs out a bottle of lotion. Again,
Negan laughs. He snatches the bottle from Carl and immediately coats three
fingers. He pushes one into Carl without warning or preamble.
“Don’t know how you’re still so tight when m’fucking you on the regular. I’d be
lyin’ if I said I didn’t love it, though.” Once Carl is riding the single digit
with desperation, Negan adds a second finger. He watches as Carl’s body takes
the familiar intrusion. “You’re gettin’ so good at this, Carl.” He knows it’s
too soon, doesn’t care, slides in his third finger and Carl’s surprised shout
is music to his ears.
“Fucker,” Carl spits, though his hips never stop rolling to fuck himself on
Negan’s fingers.
“Yeah,” Negan agrees. “You look like sin come to life, boy.” The ratty, pale
bedsheets and the quaint atmosphere of the room only add to the sensation.
“Almost feels like m’fucking you in your childhood bedroom, feels dirty like
we’re breakin’ all sorts of rules.”
Carl huffs and knees Negan in the side for his words. “Shut up,” he says
without heat.
“Nah,” Negan replies, “don’t think I will.” He withdraws his fingers slowly and
wastes no time in slicking up his cock and sinking inside Carl’s body.
“Defilin’ you right under daddy’s roof, right under his nose. Making that good
little golden boy scream like a filthy whore.”
As if his words are a command, Carl moans, unbidden as it escapes his throat.
There’s a fire burning in Carl’s gaze, the miniscule part of him that still
claims to hate this. It’s mostly overridden by the lust radiating from his
body, though, and the way his body accepts Negan like they’re puzzle pieces
coming together.
“Lucky your dad isn’t in town right now, I don’t think I remembered to lock the
door. He could hear you moaning like a tramp and he’d probably come
investigate.” Negan looms over Carl and peppers his face with kisses; he
lingers on the scars over his right eye. “What d’ya think he’d say when he’d
see me ramming your slutty little ass? You think he’d be mad?”
Carl makes to reply, indignant, but in the same moment Negan’s cock scrapes
over his prostate and another moan tears from his lips. “Fuck!”
“I think he’d be sad, so sad. Betrayed, sure,” Negan stills in his thrusts,
letting Carl feel the full weight and length and girth of his prick. “I think
he’d be disgusted, horrified.” He starts to thrust again, faster and harder and
deeper this time until Carl is crying out in time to every push. “You’d
probably have to come live with me, be my kept-boy, could fuck you any time I
wanted. I could be your daddy.”
Carl’s whole body tenses and he comes untouched. His cock twitches and spurts
of come splatter across his chest, smearing onto Negan’s leather jacket. His
chest heaves for air and each exhale is accompanied by a soft whine.
Negan comes from the sensation of Carl’s body tight, rhythmically clenching
around his cock, and from the absolute debauchery on display for him. He comes
deep inside Carl, not for the first time wishing he had some way to plug the
boy full of his come.
“God, you are a good lay.” He sits up on his knees but doesn’t quite withdraw
from Carl’s body yet. “Could fuck you all day, and you’d probably let me, huh?”
He pets Carl’s hair almost sweetly. After a drawn-out moment of silence, Negan
pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants. He slaps Carl’s thigh happily.
“Get dressed, let’s see how many people give us the stink eye, hm?”
Carl rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. He slides off the bed and grabs his
pants from where they landed across the room.
“You could, ya know.”
Carl looks up from buttoning his jeans. “What?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.
“You could stay with me, I’d treat you like one of my wives.”
Carl scoffs. “Sure, that’s something I want.”
Negan lays a hand on the back of Carl’s neck and squeezes—a threat, but a not
unkind gesture, as crazy as that sounds. “I’d treat you better than any of
them. You could even share my room, sleep with me in that nice, plush bed any
time you wanted—so long as you weren’t supposed to be working, of course.”
Carl shrugs on his flannel and dons his hat. He forgoes bandaging up his
eye—too lengthy a process when Negan will just make him undo it later anyway.
“Right, I’m sure that would work real well.”
Negan stops Carl before he can leave the bedroom. “I’m serious,” he growls. His
eyes are bright with something Carl can’t quite name—desperation, irritation,
something. “I’d give you the whole god damn world, kid.”
Carl can’t deny the way his heart skips a beat when he envisions the power, the
strength, the pull that Negan has over other people, all of that being in his
grasp. Carl meets Negan’s gaze with a deadly serious expression of his own.
Lips curling in a devious grin, Carl shrugs off Negan’s touch. “I’ll think
about it,” he says as a taunt; he revels in the way Negan’s eyes widen in
surprise. “Wait, maybe you weren’t so serious?” Carl probes. “I knew it.”
In the blink of an eye, Negan has Carl backed up against the wall with a leg
between Carl’s thighs. “I am dead fuckin’ serious, kid, don’t you doubt that
for a minute.”
Carl stares back defiantly. “Like I said, I’ll think about it.” He doesn’t back
down and eventually, Negan relents enough for Carl to finally move toward the
door. Carl leads the way out of the house with Negan hot on his heels and
immediately his skin burns when passerby’s eye them suspiciously. Negan doesn’t
miss the way the reactions get to Carl, and he chuckles.
“Probably won’t be considerin’ it too long, huh? Gonna have you in my back
pocket real quick.”
Despite how true he knows it is, Carl doesn’t dignify Negan’s words with a
response.
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