This is my second submission for flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash's 'Ash's Birthday Negan Challenge' (you can find her blog on Tumblr). The prompt I picked for this one is Walkie Talkie :):)

…

Summary: Negan's gone. Only for a few days, but that doesn't matter, it still sucks. But just because Negan's away doesn't mean Brandi can't play.

Warnings: Angst. Talk of sleeping pill usage. Smut. 'Phone' sex. Masturbation. Talk of squirting. Slight praise kink. Uncomfortable!Brandi. Slight dom/sub stuff. Dirty talk. Explicit language.

Bamby

"How long?" I asked as my head lay on Negan's bare chest, the two of us covered in nothing but the thin sheet of his bed.

This is how it had been for two weeks. Him and me. Every night I either went to his room to be with him, or he'd go to my room to be with me. There hadn't been a single night where I was left to sleep by myself since my reservations had faded.

When the two of us had spent that night in the tub a couple of weeks ago I knew things had changed. I knew they were different. I knew we weren't going to be like his other relationships. I knew I wasn't like the other wives. What we had was unique, meaningful, and real.

So when he told me he'd been leaving the Sanctuary for a while, of course I was apprehensive.

Running his hand up and down my arm, fingers just brushing the skin, he answered for the millionth time, not a hint of impatience in his tone, "Three or four days. Five at the worst."

Five possible night. Five possible nights where Negan would be gone. Five possible nights where I was going to have to sleep alone. Five possible nights without him.

"I would ask to go with you… but I know the answer."

Negan sighed as he rolled over until he was lying down, facing me, is hand now resting on my hip- the sheet between us. "I don't want to leave you either, but I'd rather deal with a cold bed for five days, rather than dealing with you getting hurt or killed."

"I know, and I get it," I assured him. "But I just… I don't like the idea of you being away and in danger. I don't like that I won't know if anything happens until someone tells me, or until you don't come back."

"I'm coming back."

"You don't know that."

His confidence only grew as he repeated himself, "I'm coming back."

…

Pacing Negan's office, alternating between twiddling my thumbs and tugging on the hem of his shirt- which I'd decided to borrow forever- I waited. He'd sent one of the guards to my room this morning, with a tray of food for breakfast and a note explaining my he wasn't there himself.

Apparently, getting ready for a long trip took more time than I thought it would. I also thought Negan would leave it to everyone else to figure out. but then again, I wouldn't trust anyone else with my life… unless it was Negan. I trusted Negan.

In the note he'd also told me to come to his office that afternoon, before he was due to leave. Technically I knew he wasn't going to be around for a while, but I'd come early in an attempt to cool my nerves. Instead I just seemed to have worked myself into a tighter bundle of anxieties.

By the time he did show up, strolling in with less enthusiasm than usual, I was practically fretting with worry.

"Negan," I let out a breath I'd been holding as I hurried over to wrap my arms around him.

He chuckled lightly, his arms coming around to embrace me as well. "Remind me to let you ransack my wardrobe more often, sweetheart. Seein' you in my clothes is making me want to do things we just don't have time for."

Looking up at him, chin resting on the leather of his jacket, I tried to give him my best puppy eyes. "You could not go."

Some might think I sound needy. Some might think I'd gotten a little too clingy. Truth was, I hated the idea of him being gone, out in the world where there were millions of dangers. I also hated the idea of having to fend off maids and wives all by myself…

After I became a wife it was pretty clear Negan was only keep the others around for pretences. As far as I knew he hadn't touched a single one of them. Maybe a kiss here and there, but nothing more than whatever was necessary to show off his dominance. Other than that, he had been saving himself for me, for our nights alone

We weren't overly publicly affectionate. Then again, we didn't actually see each other a lot during the day. I was up in the wives' wings while he was working all over the Sanctuary. Whenever we were together it was mainly for a community meeting, or the spare few moments where we'd gone for dinner down in the cafeteria, or the rarer moments where he'd caught me walking about- away from the designated area he wanted me to stay in because he felt that would be safer.

The affection we showed was small and simple. A brush of a hand. A peck on the lips. A smirk across the room. You'd think Negan would be all over the place, showing me off, practically claiming his new wife everywhere and anywhere, but he actually preferred to savour it all for himself, which was sweet… and a major turn-on.

"You know I have to," he sighed, pulling back before starting towards his desk.

"Okay, yeah, sure, I get it. But that doesn't mean I have to like it," I argued, trying not to pout but failing miserably.

"I don't like it either," he noted, moving to reach for the drawer in his desk. "Being away from you is gonna kill me… which is why I got you these."

Two walkie talkies were placed on the table.

Both were black and a little worn. They were chunky, kinda reminded me of those old mobile phones in the eighties. I mean, yeah, walkie talkies have been around for ages and they've always been pretty big, but there were smaller ones, and these looked like they might only just hit in my hands.

Each did have something different about them though. They had a strip of tape wrapped around the top. One was red, the other green.

"Walkie talkies?" I asked, confused.

Negan just gave a sharp and short nod. "For you. This one," he lifted the green one," is so you can contact the crew. If anything goes wrong here, you get worried about us, or you can't get a hold of me, you use this one. Green for go. Green is safe. Green is for everyone," he explained.

"And the red?" I gestured to the other device left on the table.

His signature grin pulled itself into place as he swapped the green walkie for the red. "Red is for me, sweetheart. You need me, you get a little lonely, you use this one. Don't care what time it is. Don't care if you had a nightmare, or if Frankie is pissing you off. You call me whenever you want, got it?"

Something bubbled inside me. "Whenever?"

"When-fucking-ever you want."

That was reassuring.

…

Saying goodbye to Negan was not something I hoped to make a habit of. Despite the relationship still only just getting off it's feet, and the fact I'd been full of reservations and concerns before, I'd grown quite close to him. Two weeks of sweet kisses, melting words and intense passions had spoiled me.

The first night he was gone was bad.

Mostly I just tossed and turned, finding it hard to get comfortable without a wall of warmth and muscle beside me. Eventually I gave up and opted to watch movies on the television in my room, hoping I'd crash. Sleep didn't come until the sun was already up.

The next day was worse. With my worrying taking up my mind I found myself stressing too much to do anything other than zone out and think of all the horrible things that could be happening out there.

That night wasn't much better.

My worrying had tired me out some, but my sleep had been filled with nightmares of every way Negan could possibly die.

A couple more days passed and not much changed. The other wives tried to distract me, noticing my mood, but it didn't work completely. Small things reminded me of Negan, which brought me back to my worrying. It was a circle I could not break.

By the fourth night I was ripping my hair out. A lack of sleep, a lack of his touch, a lack of everything… it was finally getting to me, and I'd had enough.

Picking up the red walkie I took a deep breath before pressing the button on the side so I could reach the other walkie which was in Negan's possession.

"You up?"

There was a pause before I got a response. "You should be sleepin', sweetheart. It's practically mornin'," Negan's voice called back.

I was instant calmer, but only just a little. "I can't sleep."

"Why not?"

"Because it's hard to sleep without you here. The bed feels too cold and long. I'm cold. You keep me warm."

He sighed. "Brandi, baby, it's just tonight and then I'll be back. Try taking a sleeping pill or something. You think that'll work?"

"I did that last night. Got to sleep, but didn't exactly have the greatest dreams," I mumbled.

"Nightmares?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Fuck."

That's one of the things I liked about Negan. The fact that he wanted to protect me from everything. The fact that he hated I had nightmares because there was very little he could do to protect me from them. The fact that this distance was killing him almost just as much as it was killing me.

"How can I help you get some sleep, sweetheart?"

"Talk to me," I told him, rolling over onto my back. "I like hearing the sound of your voice."

"Don't get all sappy on me, sweetheart." His grin smothered his voice. He was lapping my sappiness up like an eager puppy. It just boosted his ego… which did not need the encouragement.

Still, I couldn't help myself. "No, seriously. It's soothing. Calms me. Let's me know you're okay."

"You been worried about me?"

"Do I have to dignify that with an answer?"

His chuckle came through the walkie. No words, just his chuckle.

"Fine, yes." I rolled my eyes. "You're my husband, of course I've been worrying."

"Say that again."

Slightly confused, I did as I was told. "Of course I've been worrying?"

"No. The part before that."

"You're my husband?"

He groaned, long, low and deep. "Never gonna get tired of hearing you say that. Does things to me, sweetheart. Knowing you're mine. Knowing you miss me so much." Another groan followed. "Where are you?"

Pausing, I looked around the room before answering, "In bed."

"Which bed?"

"Yours."

"Ours," he corrected. "What's mine is yours, baby. You can have fucking everything. Whatever you need."

"Need you home," I told him simply.

"Need me with you? Want me in that bed with you? Touching you?" His third groan didn't get unnoticed… or the sound of his heavy breaths.

I sat upright suddenly, eyes wide. "Negan… are you… are you getting yourself off?"

Another groan. "Thinking about it. Button on my pants is about to pop you got me so hard, sweetheart."

"I did nothing!" I exclaimed defensively.

But that didn't seem to matter to him. "Don't need to. Just hearing your voice gets me there."

My cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of pink. "You want… you want me to go? So you can finish yourself off? Or maybe calm down?"

"Fuck no," he grunted as if that was the worst idea ever. "Want you to stay on with me. Want you to tell me what you're doing."

"I'm lying in bed… wondering what the hell I should be doing," I admitted, feeling very uncomfortable.

"You should be taking your clothes off, if you're wearing them. Then I want you to touch yourself. Get to that edge. Need you to catch up so we can do this together."

"Are you serious?"

"Fuck. Yes." To prove his point the sound of his pants being undone followed his words.

I was quick to do as he said, shredding his shirt off myself before quickly sliding my panties down my legs and kicking them off the side of the bed. The whole time I listened to him panting, patiently waiting, knowing I was doing exactly what he wanted.

Hesitantly, I grabbed the walkie again, pressing the button with a nervous finger. "Now what?"

"You touching yourself, baby?" He sounded like he needed me to say yes. That he needed me to do it.

Still unsure, feeling really weird about all of this, I slowly crept my hand down to touch myself… and gasped at how soaked I was. Seemed Negan's voice had done things to my body with me even realising it…

Gently, carefully, I started to run my fingers along my lips, waking the nerves, getting myself ready for the next step. It was a process I'd gone through a million times, but there was added pressure this time… never had anyone listened or even watched me do this to myself, so I got the feeling that might affect the outcome.

"What're you doing, sweetheart?" his voice called through. "Tell me."

Taking a deep breath, I decided to give it a go. "I'm touching myself. Teasing. Just light brushes. Gotta get myself ready. Too nervous right now."

"You nervous? Why?"

"Never done anything like this before," I admitted.

"You've never had phone sex?"

"No…"

There was a pause before he let out a long groan that fell right between my legs. "You have no idea how that makes me feel. Knowing I'm the only man to do these things with you. Only man who ever made you scream. You remember that day? Remember the drier?"

Memories came flooding back to me, and as if it was a reflex, two fingers slid into my core before sliding right back out as a groan of my own slipped from my lips.

"What about that night by the fire? God, can't look at that fucking fireplace without getting hard these days. Remembering when I had you squirting all over me. Fuck, it was so hot. Remember you squirming. Wish I was there right now so we could do it again. I'd never let you leave me room if you weren't so fucking stubborn. Turns me on when you disobey me though."

"Oh, God," I breathed, fingers dipping in again.

"Remember the way you tasted… I'd live off nothing but you if I could. Hell, I might anyone. Would be one Hell of a way to die." He was panting hard and heavy now, the sound of his hand moving against himself filling my ears.

"Negan," I called his name as my fingers moved up to rub at my clit. "God, wish you were here. Miss you. Your touch. Your smell. The way you make me feel."

"How do I make you feel?"

The pressure was building. I was alternating now, between rubbing my clit and fingering myself. I needed it all… but it wasn't enough. God, it just wasn't enough.

"Wanted. Needed. Make me feel like nothing else matters." My fingers moved harder, faster, rubbing and rubbing. "Right now, wish I had you between my legs. You know how to hit all the right spots. I get high on you. Always want more."

"Fuck," he grunted, pace of his hand picking up.

The sound made me shiver, my walls quiver and my fingers twitch. Just his voice had me wanting to come. The unholy things that man's mouth could do. I wanted to sit on it. Yes. Oh God, yes. I wanted to sit on it.

"Can't wait for you to get back. Gonna stay right here until you do. Naked, covered in sweat. Bet you'll smell it, what you're doing to me. It's probably staining the sheets."

"Gonna bend you over, baby. Wanna see you arching into me, screaming into the pillow. Can't wat to fuck you for days."

The idea of him and me being locked in his room, naked, his constant touch burning my skin, branding it…

Everything inside me exploded.

It wasn't as intense as the orgasms Negan gave me, more like a buzz really. My cells vibrated at that happy frequency, giddy and full of bliss. My mind was awash with fog and confusion for a few second where all I knew was the feeling of satisfaction and Negan. My heart raced and skipped, thumping into my chest like an animal trying to escape its cage.

Negan heard the whole thing, coming to his own end almost instantly. There was a long moan-like grunt that followed, a few short breaths interrupting the sound.

"Fuck," he panted into the walkie. "So glad you called me on the red, sweetheart."

A light chuckle bubbled from my chest. "Me too."

I could hear his smile as he spoke again, "Think you can sleep now?"

"Hmm…" I contemplated it for a moment before shaking my head- even though he wasn't there. "I don't think so."

"What? I wasn't enough?"

"This conversation isn't enough," I corrected. "Need the real deal to get a proper workout. That was more of a tease. If anything… I'm more awake and needy than before."

He groaned once last time, and I swear I nearly died at the sound. "Was gonna make it back late, but I'll be home before lunch. Don't want you fucking leaving that room, okay? You stay there, like you said. Don't move one fucking muscle. Got it?"

Shivering at the intenseness of his voice, I shuddered as I answered, "Got it."

"Good girl."

Bamby