Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8823778.
  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:
      Smut, PWP, Porn_Without_Plot, Plot_What_Plot, Impregnation_Kink, Comeplay
      sorta, Multiple_Orgasms, loads_of_dirty_talk
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-12 Words: 2083
****** speakers rockin’ till the morning light ******
by problematic_pleasures
Summary
     anonymous: Prompt: negan has a impregnation!kink
Notes
     well that nonny hit one of my major kinks right on the head and i
     really fuckin' had to write this. since this is set in some sort of
     indeterminate time, carl could be 17 (hence the underage warning) or
     he could be a little older. i never really care to specify.
     this is nothing but unrelenting smut, with a touch of fluff.
Carl stays stock still as Negan’s hands roam over his exposed chest. They’re in
Negan’s room—practically their room, now, shared—with Carl standing on display
for his older lover. His jeans hang low on his hips, undone and belt discarded,
while Negan stays fully clothed and perches on the couch. Carl shivers as
Negan’s face, stubble-sharp, drags across his stomach, his hips. Negan’s
fingers dig in hard enough to bruise, for now leaving red fingerprints in the
wake of his touch. Carl’s hands hang at his side, his head angled downward to
watch the reverent way Negan gropes him.
“You are somethin’ else,” Negan murmurs. His words fan hot across Carl’s skin,
waking goosebumps as he goes. Carl shivers again and Negan laughs gently in
response. “Look at you,” he says. He places a single, oddly tender kiss to the
middle of Carls’ stomach, just above his bellybutton. “You know what’d be even
better?” Negan asks, kissing the same spot again and against.
Carl makes a curious sound as words fail him.
A pause, a single moment of hesitation, Negan’s eyes flicking up to meet Carl’s
then away again—concern, perhaps even fear strangely vivid in his gaze. Eyes
once more focused on Carl’s body, Negan speaks quietly.
“To see you swollen, full of nothin’ but me,” the words fall from his lips fast
and desperate, hungry. “Get you pregnant and parade you around, you’d look so
gorgeous, boy, so fuckin’ beautiful.”
Carl, again, fails to find the words. He whimpers in response as a flurry of
emotions bombard him at once—confusion, first and foremost. He’s not a woman,
he can’t even get pregnant, the notion of Negan picturing such a thing at all
almost seems funny. Just as fast though the confusion melts away and reveals a
burning sense of lust, overwhelming to the point that his knees buckle. He
whimpers again, louder, and finally brings a hand to Negan’s hair for comfort,
support, anything.
Negan’s confidence seems to return at the touch. He sits a little straighter
and his grip on Carl’s hips is tighter than before. “Oh, y’like that do ya?”
The happiness in his tone is blatant, unhinged almost. It’s sheer delight
bleeding into his entire being, Negan practically vibrating with excitement.
“I’m going to fuck you.” He finally looks up again, unwavering as he meets
Carl’s gaze again. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re absolutely full of my
come, until—”
“Until you knock me up,” Carl rasps in agreement. He tightens his hand in
Negan’s hair, lets his other hand cover one of Negan’s, still on his hips. He
nods rapidly, hair flopping about. “Do it, yes, c’mon,” he pleads. His knees
are shaking enough that standing much longer isn’t feasible, and his cock is so
hard it nearly hurts. “Please,” Carl gasps, “fuckin’ do it.”
Negan stands immediately, lifting Carl as he goes until Carl wraps around him
like a monkey to a tree. “It will be my pleasure,” Negan assures as he carries
Carl to the bed. They make it to the plush bed in a few short strides, the room
so compact, and they fall onto it with muffled thuds. Carl’s hands go to the
lapels of Negan’s jacket and yank impatiently.
“Off, off,” Carl demands. He shoves at Negan until the older man sits back and
peels out of his jacket. “C’mon,” Carl insists, hands moving to the dingy hem
of Negan’s shirt once the jacket is out of the way. Negan laughs but obeys, as
well, drawing the shirt off his chest slowly, tantalizing. Pleased, Carl nods,
laying back again with his arms spread open. “Good,” he breathes.
“Bossy, bossy,” Negan chastises. All the same he begins dragging Carl’s pants
off, dropping them off the side of the bed. Next, he works on Carl’s underwear,
coming off in much the same way. Then, he finally moves to the button and
zipper of his own pants. “Gets ya hot, doesn’t it?” Negan taunts as he draws
out the process, unbuttoning his jeans before slipping a hand inside rather
than unzipping them.
“Negan.” Carl’s voice is soft, needy, but still laced with warning. All the
same, he can’t tear his gaze away from the prominent bulge in Negan’s jeans,
can’t deny the way his mouth waters.
“How many times d’you think it’ll take?” Negan wonders. He pulls down the
zipper of his jeans, revealing his lack of underwear and his thick, stiff cock.
“Gonna fuck you till I am absolutely certain you’re knocked up, how many loads
s’it gonna take?”
Carl shrugs. “Who cares,” he replies. “We’ve got time.”
Negan whistles, stroking his cock idly. “Got that right.” He shifts to dig out
the tube of slick they keep under one of the pillows. He carefully spreads lube
over three fingers, bringing only one to Carl’s hole at first. He pushes in, a
single thrust, Carl’s body clenching around the familiar intrusion. Negan lets
out a shuddering sigh through his nose as he beings to thrust, even and
measured.
“I can take it,” Carl says. “Give me another.” He raises his hips and the
tension in his body only relaxes once Negan slides a second finger in alongside
the first. Carl nods, wordless, sinking into the sensations of Negan’s fingers
inside him. His mind starts to drift as the heat of the room increases, sweat
sliding on his body and his thoughts hazy from a fog of warmth and lust. Ideas
swim through his head, and he can almost see it clearly in his mind—
“Stay with me, kid,” Negan demands. He adds a third finger then crooks them,
wringing a moan from Carl’s flushed lips.
“I’m—I’m thinking about what you said.” Carl pushes his hair back to give his
hands something to do as he gives himself over to Negan, not for the first time
or the last.
“Really now?” Negan’s face shifts again, like before. The sharp lines of his
face grow soft and the light in his eyes is weirdly delicate. He pulls his
fingers out, smears more lube across his cock and lines himself up with Carl’s
stretched body. “Tell me,” he says as he pushes into his lover.
Carl tenses at first, his back arching and wordless gasps tumbling from his
throat. Once Negan is seated to the hilt, looming over him and caging him
against the bed—then, Carl answers.
“What you said, parading me around,” his words hitch as Negan draws out again.
“So everyone could see.” Carl drops a hand to his flat stomach, shivering when
Negan covers it with his own, bigger hand. “I—everyone would know what you did,
would know what you did to me.”
“Like the hickies I give ya don’t say enough already.”
Carl shakes his head, though. “No this, this would be different. Undeniable,
because you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me. You’d be touching me,
constantly, touching my stomach where—where our kids are growing.” Negan links
their fingers and squeezes, an encouragement to keep Carl talking. “Everyone
would know who I belong to but—but you’d belong to me, too,” Carl says with a
dazed, mischievous grin.
Negan groans, louder than Carl has ever heard, before crashing their lips
together. Negan practically swallows him whole; Negan licks into his mouth with
force, need, abandon. Nipping at Carl’s lips, words hitting the kiss-swollen
flesh, “fuck yes,” Negan hisses.
Carl curls an arm across Negan’s shoulders to hold him close. “Can you see it?”
He asks even though he already knows the answer. He spreads his legs so Negan
can press that much closer. “Picture it?” Carl looks down at their hands, still
locked together and resting on his stomach.
“Fuck yes I can,” Negan replies. He mouths his way along Carl’s jaw, tugs at
his earlobe before beginning to whisper. “Can picture you growin’, so fucking
swollen, kid, belly all round.” He groans again. “Starts off small, adorable
like y’always are. Then you’d get bigger n’bigger, you’d be so fuckin’
sensitive.
“Oh,” Negan draws out the single word. “Your chest, kid, you’d be fuckin’
insane over how sensitive your pretty little nipples would get. You’d be crying
from how good it feels.” Negan brushes a hand across Carl’s nipples, pert and
stiff, he breathes in the shiver that runs through Carl’s body. “You’d be
beggin’ me to fuck you, only way to get any relief.”
Carl goes tense as his orgasm ripples through him unexpectedly. It spills onto
his stomach and when he arches his back, it smears onto Negan’s bare chest as
well. Breathing hard and feeling dizzy, Carl looks up at Negan expectantly.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Carl mutters.
Negan moans and kisses Carl again before replying, “kid you are fuckin’
perfect.”
-
Negan comes for the first time not long after that, Carl’s body still quaking
with the aftershocks of his orgasm and wringing one out of Negan. He stills
over Carl as he comes, as Carl gives himself away to the fantasy that they’re
really making something here—making a family.
 
The second time Negan comes is after Carl has just had his third orgasm; at
some point in the flurry of limbs, Negan had rolled them until Carl was perched
in his lap. Carl’s third orgasm had come just as unexpectedly as the first two
and a bit splatters onto Negan’s chin.
 
By Negan’s fifth, Carl is a loose-limbed and shaking mess; come is leaking out
his ass and he idly wonders how Negan is still hard. Not that he’s complaining,
not right now. Not even as Negan rolls Carl to lie on his front and starts to
fuck him fast and hard from behind.  
-
Sated and sweaty, several more orgasms later, Carl startles when Negan slips
back into bed. They don’t bother to why down or clean off, even as come leaks
out of Carl’s stretched, well-fucked hole. He jumps a little when Negan’s arms
wind around him and pull him close.
“Spooning, really?” Carl says around a yawn, though he relaxes into the touch.
He leans his head back into the crook of Negan’s shoulder as their breathing
syncs.
Negan doesn’t reply other than to scrape his stubble against Carl’s delicate
cheek. Silence blooms now that the sex is over, the room devoid of their grunts
and groans and the creaking of the bed. Carl feels himself sink into a doze,
listens as Negan’s own breathing starts to even out. Carl is nearly on the cusp
of sleep when a question comes to him, odd and sudden, but relentless.
“Why don’t you get any of your actual wives pregnant?”
Negan grunts, and Carl almost—almost feels bad for waking him, but not really.
“What?”
“Why don’t you get any of your wives pregnant?” Carl asks again. He drops his
hands to clutch at Negan’s arm, thick and comforting where it’s wrapped around
his waist. He drums his fingers idly while he waits.
“Cuz it’d be a pain in the ass,” Negan begins. His words vibrate against Carl’s
cheek. “Too fuckin’ messy, too fuckin’ time-consuming.” He shrugs. “You tellin’
me bringing Judith into this world was a piece of cake?”
Carl nods, conceding. “Fair enough.” Can’t dispute that; his mind drifts for a
moment to Maggie, to how she struggles. Then he thinks of his mother, but the
thought doesn’t get very far before he shuts it down.
“B’sides,” Negan starts again. He shuffles impossibly closer and Carl isn’t
surprised when he feels a stiff cock press against his bare ass. Negan chuckles
into his ear while reaching down, aligning their bodies once more. “None of
them are as pretty as you, boy.”
Carl gasps as Negan slides in without any resistance, lube and come slicking
the way. His body offers no tension, only open and intense desire. As Negan
fucks him slow, nearly tender in his movements, Carl thinks of what it would be
like to raise a family. He thinks of what Negan would be like with their kids,
what it would be like to raise kids in a compound like this. He thinks of all
the time he and Negan would spend working to get knocked up and—
“Damn, kid, what were you thinkin’ about?” Negan asks through laughter, staring
down at where Carl’s meek amount of come puddled on the bed.
Carl growls and tightens his grip in Negan’s hair. Looking Negan right in the
eyes, he demands. “Just keep going.”
Negan grins.
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