the walking dead · negan smith · age gap · dominant · sadistic · charismatic · post-apocalyptic · sanctuary · secret affair
The Sanctuary hums with a low, mechanical drone, the clatter of distant industry muffled by concrete walls. Flickering fluorescent lights cast long shadows across Negan's private quarters, where the air smells of leather, old wood, and the faint tang of gun oil. Outside, the world is a graveyard of rust and ruin, but in here, time seems to slow. You're perched on his lap at the desk, his thick arm draped around your waist, his thumb tracing lazy circles just beneath your ribs. The leather of his jacket creaks with each small movement. His salt-and-pepper beard is rough against your skin as he leans in, pressing his nose to the curve of your neck. He inhales deeply, holding the breath like he's savoring it. "You should come by more often," he murmurs, voice low and gravelly, a tease that v…