#I look into his big gorgeous eyes as he tells Simon that punishing yourself is its own hell and I wanna confess my undying love for him

[abstract-venus]

Yo, why did they have to make Edwin look so heartbreakingly beautiful when he was absolutely covered in his own blood? Like calm down please

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

Should you write it? Uh, please do!😭🥴😩 as a corporate girlie I would love me some Office!Ghost tbh, maybe you’re from another agency working intel on a joint operation w 141 and he gets a kick our of teasing you bc you’re such a stark contrast with your cute lil briefcase and the business casual dresses, totally not used to working literally on site surrounded by all these military/law enforcement men you usually do work for behind the scenes in the safety of your office

PAIRING: Office! Ghost/Co-Worker! Ghost x F! Reader 

WARNINGS: that particular kind of tacit sexual tension you find in corporate Britain || sexy eye contact from across the bullpen || filthy language || 18+ only

A/N:  corporate girlies unite! || anon is referring to this post || i tried to do the prompt as it was but realised that I know nothing about how the military works :) but this is fiction, so we ball, I hope you like it anon! I have no idea where this fic going, please help :)))

Part 1 of 4 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

***

It starts simple before it gets complicated, as these things tend to do.

There are exactly two things that keep you motivated in this job—the smoke breaks you take 5 times a day, and the off-chance of seeing Ghost around the base.  That’s it.  Two things.

And one of those was being ruined by your newest friend’s lack of enthusiasm for the other thing.

“I bet he's blond.”

Simon just takes a deep drag of his cigarette, looking at you with the distinctively irritated side eye that he gives you about 12 times a day.

“Ask me why I think he's blond.”

“No.”

But you’re undeterred.  “He just has that energy, you know.  I’ve only ever seen him with MacTavish, and he stands there like a tall, sexy, dumb…tree.  Like, I bet he’s fucking gorgeous, but he’s also giving blond himbo.”

Simon’s eyes roll up to the sky in irritation.  “I dunno what himbo means.”

“Yeah you do.  You said you’ve worked with Ghost before.”

You almost want to perform a pirouette in joy at getting Simon to finally look at you.  “N’ what of it?”

“Then you know what a himbo is.  It’s Ghost.”

You don’t even try to contain your manic laughter when Simon just about turns and leaves.         

***

What Simon doesn’t understand (the cantankerous bastard) is that you’ve made eye contact with Ghost a few times around the base.  The man is more elusive than average, even in this line of work.  His presence around the base is...well.  Entirely consistent with his moniker.  The man is a ghost.  

Sometimes you wonder if it’s all really performative, but something about the way he moves in the spaces around him leads you to conclude that maybe he’s omnipresent after all.  He'll catch your attention from the periphery of your vision, only to disappear when you try to actively seek him out.  He melts into the background of wherever he looms, like a shadow. (Or a Ghost).  There and not there, all at once.

And on the rare occasions you’ve seen him around, he keeps to himself.  Not surprising, given everything you know about him (which isn't a lot), but what is interesting to you is the way he looks at you.  And when he’s around, he does look at you.

You can't say you mind, considering you look at him too.  Even after all these years working with big, handsome, massive men and women, day in and day out, you still can't say you've gotten used to it.  And you could never be used to someone like Ghost.  

But then there’s Simon.  The other man you’re finding yourself increasingly attracted to.  

They tell you he’s only there temporarily and as punishment.  You can't even begin to imagine who could (and would even dare to) punish the big grump.  You don’t actually know why he’s being punished with desk duty, and even if you wanted to, you have no way of finding out.  He won’t tell you, and neither will your supervisor. 

More importantly, you decide, you couldn’t care less. 

Simon’s punishment means that your week has suddenly become very, very interesting.  The mood around the office is different while Simon sits at your absentee colleague’s desk.  People are quieter around him—uneasy and the slightest bit put off by his brutish nature. But you can’t deny that there is something about Simon, something you can’t quite seem to put your finger on.  The man is just...effortlessly sexy.  

You sit across the room from him, but facing him, and so every time you look up, he’s there.  The height of the desks combined with the height of this mammoth man mean that you can’t see his entire face, but his eyes stick out from the top of the desk partition, and it’s enough to create…issues for you. 

Five days ago, when you'd walked into the office, and noticed a stranger on Davis’ seat, you hadn't actually known it was him.  He was just...some guy.  A nose that looked like it had spent more time being broken than not, wicked scars running down his face and into his lips, mean-looking but with the most expressive brown eyes.  And then your supervisor introduced him to your team as Simon.  And that was it.  Thus had begun your love affair with permanent arousal. 

You must be one of Pavlov’s dogs with how you’ve been conditioned to associate the feeling of his eyes on your face with wetness between your legs.  It’s mercilessly constant and you’re left feeling achy and unsatisfied every day, having to content yourself with rubbing your thighs together for some much needed relief.  And through it all, Simon just watches you.

You know he’s interested.  And he must know of your reciprocity, because your traitor face gives it away, and because his interest is quickly replaced by smugness.  

During a brief stint of temporary insanity, you consider confronting him about it.  But what would you even say?   So sorry, Simon, you big, scary, grouch, but would you just please hit this and we can both call it a day and I can move on to making heart eyes at Ghost again? Hehe, no.

But you’re stubborn to a fault, so you befriend him (albeit with you doing most of the hard work in your “friendship”) and downplay your attraction, while he pretends he doesn’t spend most of the day making bedroom eyes at you.  Win-win.

And if you end up carrying an extra pair of panties in your purse, then it’s not like he needs to know about it.

****

Taglist: @devcica || @kneelingshadowsalome || @tiredmetalenthusiast || @xintothewoodswegox || @miyabilicious ||

[kkintle]

Looking for Alaska by John Green; Quotes

“Francois Rabelais. He was this poet. And his last words were 'I go to seek a Great Perhaps.' That's why I'm going. So I don't have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps.”

Because you simply cannot draw these things out forever. At some point, you just pull off the Band-Aid and it hurts, but then it's over and you're relieved.

“'He'—that's Simon Bolivar—*was shaken by the overwhelming revelation that the headlong race between his misfortunes and his dreams was at that moment reaching the finish line. The rest was darkness. ”Damn it,“ he sighed. ”How will I ever get out of thislabyrinth!'“”

She had the kind of eyes that predisposed you to supporting her every endeavor.

Because you may be smart, but I've been smart longer.

(...) the most important pursuit in history: the search for meaning. What is the nature of being a person? What is the best way to go about being a person? How did we come to be, and what will become of us when we are no longer? In short: What are the rules of this game, and how might we best play it?"

I learned that myth doesn't mean a lie; it means a traditional story that tells you something about people and their worldview and what they hold sacred.

She smiled with all the delight of a kid on Christmas morning and said, “Y'all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.”

(...) and I jogged after him, trailing in his wake. I wanted to be one of those people who have streaks to maintain, who scorch the ground with their intensity. But for now, at least I knew such people, and they needed me, just like comets need tails.

“You've got a lifetime to mull over the Buddhist understanding of interconnectedness.” He spoke every sentence as if he'd written it down, memorized it, and was now reciting it. “But while you were looking out the window, you missed the chance to explore the equally interesting Buddhist belief in being present for every facet of your daily life, of being truly present. Be present in this class. And then, when it's over, be present out there,” he said, nodding toward the lake and beyond.

“I may die young,” she said. “But at least I'll die smart. Now, back to tangents.”

“Getting out isn't that easy,” she said seriously, her eyes on mine like I knew the way out and wouldn't tell her.

“Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia.” “Huh?” I asked. “You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you'll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.”

“Sometimes I don't get you,” I said. She didn't even glance at me. She just smiled toward the television and said, “You never get me. That's the whole point.”

“He loves me,” Alaska told me as we walked back to the dorm circle. “He loves all y'all, too. He just loves the school more. That's the thing. He thinks busting us is good for the school and good for us. It's the eternal struggle, Pudge. The Good versus the Naughty.”

“Sometimes you lose a battle. But mischief always wins the war.”

“So Friday? Do you have plans for Friday?” And then I laughed, because the Colonel and I didn't have plans for this Friday, or for any other Friday for the rest of our lives.

And I vaguely remember Lara smiling at me from the doorway, the glittering ambiguity of a girl's smile, which seems to promise an answer to the question but never gives it. The question, the one we've all been asking since girls stopped being gross, the question that is too simple to be uncomplicated: Does she like me or like me?

“It is sad,” I repeated. “I mean, it's stupid to miss someone you didn't even get along with. But, I don't know, it was nice, you know, having someone you could always fight with.”

“Sorry. Don't worry, dude,” he said. “God will punish the wicked. And before He does, we will.”

“Hold on.” He grabbed a pencil and scrawled excitedly at the paper as if he'd just made a mathematical breakthrough and then looked back up at me. “I just did some calculations, and I've been able to determine that you're full of shit.”

“It's not life or death, the labyrinth.” “Urn, okay. So what is it?” “Suffering,” she said. “Doing wrong and having wrong things happen to you. That's the problem. Bolivar was talking about the pain, not about the living or dying. How do you get out of the labyrinth of suffering?” “What's wrong?” I asked. And I felt the absence of her hand on me. “Nothing's wrong. But there's always suffering, Pudge. Homework or malaria or having a boyfriend who lives far away when there's a good-looking boy lying next to you. Suffering is universal. It's the one thing Buddhists, Christians, and Muslims are all worried about.”

“You shall love your crooked neighbour/ With your crooked heart,”

I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.

“Night falls fast. Today is in the past,”

Alaska decided to go help Dolores with dinner. She said that it was sexist to leave the cooking to the women, but better to have good sexist food than crappy boy-prepared food.

“Don't you know who you love, Pudge? You love the girl who makes you laugh and shows you porn and drinks wine with you. You don't love the crazy, sullen bitch.” And there was something to that, truth be told.

People, I thought, wanted security. They couldn't bear the idea of death being a big black nothing, couldn't bear the thought of their loved ones not existing, and couldn't even imagine themselves not existing. I finally decided that people believed in an afterlife because they couldn't bear not to.

The Great Perhaps was upon us, and we were invincible. The plan may have had faults, but we did not.

“Prick us, we bleed. Prick him, he pops.”

I don't know. Like the way the sun is right now, with the long shadows and that kind of bright, soft light you get when the sun isn't quite setting? That's the light that makes everything better, everything prettier, and today, everything just seemed to be in that light.

I found myself thinking about President William McKinley, the third American president to be assassinated. He lived for several days after he was shot, and toward the end, his wife started crying and screaming, “I want to go, too! I want to go, too!” And with his last measure of strength, McKinley turned to her and spoke his last words: “We are all going.”

There comes a time when we realize that our parents cannot save themselves or save us, that everyone who wades through time eventually gets dragged out to sea by the undertow—that, in short, we are all going.

“Pudge, what you must understand about me is that I ama deeply unhappy person.”

“But a lot of times, people die how they live. And so last words tell me a lot about who people were, and why they became the sort of people biographies get written about. Does that make sense?”

And what is an “instant” death anyway? How long is an instant? Is it one second? Ten? The pain of those seconds must have been awful as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and there was no air and no blood to her brain and only raw panic. What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous.

Straight & Fast.

How will we ever get out of this labyrinth of suffering?—A. Y.

“Because everybody who has ever lost their way in life has felt the nagging insistence of that question. At some point we all look up and realize we are lost in a maze, (...)

I wondered if there would ever be a day when I didn't think about Alaska, wondered whether I should hope for a time when she would be a distant memory—recalled only on the anniversary of her death, or maybe a couple of weeks after, remembering only after having forgotten. I knew that I would know more dead people. The bodies pile up. Could there be a space in my memory for each of them, or would I forget a little of Alaska every day for the rest of my life?

“You can't just make me different and then leave,” I said out loud to her. “Because I was fine before, Alaska. I was fine with just me and last words and school friends, and you can't just make me different and then die.” For she had embodied the Great Perhaps—she had proved to me that it was worth it to leave behind my minor life for grander maybes, and now she was gone and with her my faith in perhaps. I could call everything the Colonel said and did “fine.” I could try to pretend that I didn't care anymore, but it could never be true again. You can't just make yourself matter and then die, Alaska, because now I am irretrievably different, and I'm sorry I let you go, yes, but you made the choice. You left me Perhapsless, stuck in your goddamned labyrinth. And now I don't even know if you chose the straight and fast way out, if you left me like this on purpose. And so I never knew you, did I? I can't remember, because I never knew.

The times that were the most fun seemed always to be followed by sadness now, because it was when life started to feel like it did when she was with us that we realized how utterly, totally gone she was.

'Everything that comes together falls apart,'” the Old Man said. "Everything. The chair I'm sitting on. It was built, and so it will fall apart. I'm gonna fall apart, probably before this chair. And you're gonna fall apart. The cells and organs and systems that make you you—they came together, grew together, and so must fall apart. The Buddha knew one thing science didn't prove for millennia after his death: Entropy increases. Things fall apart."

We are all going, I thought, and it applies to turtles and turtlenecks, Alaska the girl and Alaska the place, because nothing can last, not even the earth itself. The Buddha said that suffering was caused by desire, we'd learned, and that the cessation of desire meant the cessation of suffering. When you stopped wishing things wouldn't fall apart, you'd stop suffering when they did.

The hardest part about pranking, Alaska told me once, is not being able to confess.

I'd finally had enough of chasing after a ghost who did not want to be discovered. We'd failed, maybe, but some mysteries aren't meant to be solved. I still did not know her as I wanted to, but I never could.

Did I help you toward a fate you didn't want, Alaska, or did I just assist in your willful self-destruction? Because they are different crimes, and I didn't know whether to feel angry at her for making me part of her suicide or just to feel angry at myself for letting her go.

“After all this time, it still seems to me like straight and fast is the only way out—but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it.”

(...) we had to forgive to survive in the labyrinth. There were so many of us who would have to live with things done and things left undone that day. Things that did not go right, things that seemed okay at the time because we could not see the future. If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can't know better until knowing better is useless.

I still think that, sometimes, think that maybe “the afterlife” is just something we made up to ease the pain of loss, to make our time in the labyrinth bearable. Maybe she was just matter, and matter gets recycled.

But ultimately I do not believe that she was only matter. The rest of her must be recycled, too. I believe now that we are greater than the sum of our parts. If you take Alaska's genetic code and you add her life experiences and the relationships she had with people, and then you take the size and shape of her body, you do not get her. There is something else entirely. There is a part of her greater than the sum of her knowable parts. And that part has to go somewhere, because it cannot be destroyed.

Those awful things are survivable, because we are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be. When adults say, “Teenagers think they are invincible” with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail.

So I know she forgives me, just as I forgive her. Thomas Edison's last words were: “It's very beautiful over there.” I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful.

Most loves don't last. (Whitney sure didn't. I can't even remember her last name.) But some do.

Almost by definition, last words are difficult to verify. Witnesses are emotional, time gets conflated, and the speaker isn't around to clear up any controversy.

I was born into Bolivar's labyrinth, and so I must believe in the hope of Rabelais' Great Perhaps.

[pedroscurls]

Title: “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever”

@ohmypageet requested: Hey! I wanna ask you 'bout if you write song fics or not. If you do can you write negan x reader one with the song “I don't wanna live forever” (by Zayn and Taylor Swift)

Character(s): Negan and Reader Summary: Negan realizes the truth to the saying, “you never know what you have until you’ve lost it.” When you, one of his wives, decide to leave him, you wonder if you’ve made the right decision and Negan starts to question if he should have let you go in the first place. Word Count: 3,208 Warning: Angst (kinda)??? Author’s Note: All right. I have listened to this song multiple times and @ohmypageet, thank you so so much for sending this request in. It definitely took me out of my comfort zone and I loved writing this story! It also shows a different side of Negan that we all know he’s capable of having ;-). So, here’s to my first attempt at a songfic, and I hope you enjoy it! :-)

Forever Taglist: @disfigured-it-out || @chunex || @jasoncrouse || @oceanicseries || @dixonsbait || @negan--is--god || @see-you-then-winchester || @sable-the-trans-ham || @k4veggies || @labyrinthofheartagrams || @purplemuse89 || @ladyynegan || @scentofpineandhazelnutlattes || @may85 || @a-girl-interupted || @spn-cw123 || @multireality || @ashzombie13 || @constellationsolo || @isayweallgetdrunk || @fyeahashley88 || @sweetsweetpeach || @heartfulloffandoms || @myheart4ever47

(GIF Source: @justnegan)

Song: I Don’t Wanna Live Forever by ZAYN and Taylor Swift (lyrics are in italics)

“I am done!” you yelled, grabbing your things from the room you had in the lounge.

Negan was following you, shooing away the rest of the wives. He was furious, so when he stepped into your room and slammed the door, you flinched immediately. He had never put his hands on you, but at this moment, you wondered if he would.

“No. You do not get to fucking tell me that you’re done!” he replied.

“Oh? You have five other fucking wives! What the hell do you need me for, Negan?”

You were sure that yelling at him like this would deserve a punishment, but the look in his eyes caught you off guard. You weren’t expecting to see the pain in his gorgeous brown orbs. Maybe his feelings for you were real, but you were tired of falling for someone who didn’t understand how badly it hurt to see him all over other women.

You knew what you signed up for, but as you spent more time with Negan, you couldn’t handle it anymore. He would touch his other wives in places that you thought were reserved for you. He would kiss their necks, causing whimpers to escape their lips when you thought that his lips were only meant for your skin.

Negan stepped forward, grabbing your bag and tossing it roughly to the floor. You watched as your clothes scattered on the ground. You cursed to yourself and pushed against his chest, trying to fight his strong figure.

“No… Damn it, [Y/N]. Fucking talk to me!”

“You already know, Negan! Why do I have to repeat myself?!”

You dropped to your knees and grabbed your clothes, stuffing them messily into your bag. You zipped it up and tossed it back onto your bed. You were the only wife that was there because you wanted to be and not because you needed an easy way out.

When Negan saved you, you denied his offer at being his wife at first. However, as you spent more time with him during runs, you found yourself becoming fonder of him. Suddenly, his laugh made you feel all warm inside. His smile brightened your day. His eyes made you melt into a puddle.

You had fallen in love with your boss, so when you had finally slept with him, Negan asked you to be a wife again. You didn’t hesitate before agreeing.

When you stood up, Negan tried to reach for your hand but you immediately pulled away. You didn’t want him to touch you because you knew that if he did, you would be sucked right back in.

“Negan, just stop, please…”

“Tell me what I have to do to keep you here, doll.”

“I can’t – I can’t keep seeing you with the other wives. You know how I feel about you, damn it. I never asked for this. I never asked to fucking fall in love you…”

“[Y/N]…” he whispered.

“No, save it. I know what you’re going to say. I am tired of hearing you push my feelings aside because you can’t handle hearing it. I am done. I will work for points. If I can, I will go back to being a Savior, but this is it. I can’t be with you, Negan.”

“Yes you can, doll. Fuck, you can’t just leave…”

“Tell me why I should stay, Negan. This rule about us not being able to cheat on you when you go and do exactly what you’re telling us not to do? It’s not fair. I want you to myself. I want to be able to sleep in your room, by your side. I have saved your life just as many times as you have saved mine and I will forever be indebted to you, but I can’t continue living like this.” you admitted, tears slowly streaking down your face.

You couldn’t even look at him. You grabbed your bag and draped it over your shoulder, wiping the tears that had fallen from your eyes. You hated that Negan was seeing you like this, but you knew deep down that your relationship with him differed than his relationships with his other wives.

“Doll, don’t make me say it…”

“Say what, Negan? That maybe, just fucking maybe, you might feel the same way? What’s so wrong about that? I love you and I never intended to. That’s the worst part of this all…”

Negan bit his lower lip. He wanted so badly to admit that he had fallen for you too, but he couldn’t. It was as if he was incapable of speaking. Every time the thought of being in love entered his mind, he would imagine Lucille and that just brought back many memories that he wished he could push aside.

“[Y/N]…”

“I can’t do this anymore, Negan. I’m sorry.” you finally looked into his eyes. You allowed him to see how heartbroken you were, how much pain you were in and in that moment, you noticed how much this was affecting him.

You wished he could say it. You wished he could admit his true feelings. You gave him a few minutes to change your mind, but when nothing was said, you simply nodded and walked to the door.

Negan tightened his grip around Lucille. He looked over at you and suddenly, the pain was now masked with anger.

“Get your shit and leave then. You’ll be working janitorial services from now on.” 

A month had passed since you left and Negan was trying to busy himself with work. He couldn’t even spend time with the rest of the wives without the thought of you entering his mind. He found himself drinking more often, staying in his room (or office) when he would be out patrolling the Sanctuary.

When you left, it ignited something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lucille. The look in your eyes were the same exact look Lucille gave him when she found out about his infidelity. He never thought he was capable of falling in love with someone after Lucille, but you showed up to the Sanctuary and changed everything.

He found himself wanting to spend every second with you. He wanted to be able to hold you in his arms at night, protect you from all the dangers in the world, and he even felt guilty after he slept with any of his other wives that weren’t you.

Because after he slept with the other wives, you occupied his mind.

As he remained seated at his leather couch in his room, Negan kept Lucille propped against the side of the couch as he stared down at the papers in his hands. He was overlooking the points of the people in the community and making sure everything added up.

Though, his eyes caught your name and he cleared his throat.

Been sitting eyes wide open behind these four walls, hoping you'd call

It's just a cruel existence like there's no point hoping at all

Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day

Give me something, oh, but you say nothing

What is happening to me?

Negan felt anger and pain all over again. He couldn’t help but relive the argument from a month ago. All he could see was you leaving, the words you said, the tears that fell from your eyes. He promised himself he would never get close to anyone after Lucille, but then he let you in and dropped all his guards for you.

It wasn’t meant to happen. He didn’t mean to open himself up to you, but there had been something about your personality, something about your presence that made him want to drop his big, bad façade.

I don't wanna live forever

'Cause I know I'll be livin' in vain

And I don't wanna fit wherever

I just wanna keep callin' your name

Until you come back home

I just wanna keep callin' your name

Until you come back home

I just wanna keep callin' your name

Until you come back home

Negan tossed the papers onto the small table in front of him. He couldn’t concentrate. The fact that you still occupied his mind after a month of leaving just proved that whatever he was feeling for you were true.

He thought he would be over you by now, but he wasn’t expecting you to linger in his mind. You prevented him from doing work, from running the Sanctuary as smoothly as it should be. Simon had even mentioned that he was becoming soft and nothing like the old, usual Negan that many people feared.

Negan wondered if you were to walk back into his life, would things just magically fall into place? He wanted you back where you belonged: with him.

You had been working day in and day out cleaning the Sanctuary for points that wouldn’t even add up for a decent meal. Though, the tiring work wasn’t what was killing you inside.

It was Negan.

Since you left, you had seen him many times. He never met you gaze, but you knew he was aware of your presence. It broke your heart even more when he simply walked past you without a word being said.

Today, however, you decided to take a day off from work. You knew it would cost you points that you desperately needed, but you had lost my will to live when you left Negan.

You were dressed in black jeans, combat boots, and a navy-blue t-shirt with the sleeves folded. You decided to sit outside and have some time to yourself. You were sure that you would see Negan wandering around the front gates of the Sanctuary to make sure that the fences were secure.

Deep down, though, you hoped that he would decide to talk to you.

Once outside, you sat at one of the benches and sighed to yourself. You watched as the gardeners began picking the vegetables and fruits that had fully grown and become ripe. You watched as the young kids ran around the main yard, laughing to themselves without a care to the world. It reminded you so much of the innocence and purity that was left.

Though, as you looked up at the blue sky, your mind immediately drifted to Negan. You wanted nothing more than for him to come after you, admit his true feelings, and get rid of the wives.

However, you knew that would never happen. Negan wasn’t a one-woman type of man apparently.

I’m sitting eyes wide open and I got one thing stuck in my mind

Wondering if I dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life

You kept your eyes focused on the sky. It seemed surreal that Negan was out of your life. You survived a month and yet, you didn’t know how much longer you could last. You had grown accustomed to his vulgarity, his inappropriate humor, his lingering touches, his soft kisses… You missed him so much.

You couldn’t help but think about the nights you spent in his bed, knowing that it was forbidden for any of other wives to spend the night with him. You knew that his room, and ultimately his bed, were off-limits, yet Negan always allowed you to break that rule.

His kisses were always so slow and passionate. His arms were always so tight around you, holding you close against him. You had grown accustomed to the way he acted behind closed doors that you wondered why Negan let you go in the first place.

Why did he choose his fake wives over something that had the potential to be real?

Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day

Give me something, oh, but you say nothing

What is happening to me?

You finally stood up from the bench. It was time you stop sulking and continue with your life. It wasn’t a guarantee that you would wake up every day, so dwelling on a man that would never fully be yours was simply going to waste your time and energy.

You needed to start thinking of him as your leader and nothing else. You had to rid yourself of the memories you shared with him. He was no longer your husband, but a leader that you were supposed to fear and avoid.

Once you walked inside, you noticed the crowd of people inside of the building. It always amazed you how many people occupied the Sanctuary. It gave you hope that the old world could be restored one day.

Throughout the crowd of people, you noticed Negan descending the stairs. It wasn’t the fact that the people had quieted and now kneeled, but it was the fact that his eyes were now staring solely into yours.

You didn’t know if it was because he was surprised to see you or if it was because you hadn’t kneeled yet.

With a sigh, you dropped to your knee and waited for him to dismiss the rest of you. When his boots stopped near you, you hesitantly looked up. All the feelings you had forced yourself to push aside had now come back full force. You wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a deep kiss and show him just exactly how much you missed him.

But you couldn’t.

You wouldn’t.

You needed to be strong.

Negan kept his eyes locked onto yours. Even after the rest of the people stood and went about their business, he was sure that everyone in the Sanctuary felt the tension between the two of you. No one uttered a word. He just remained where he was standing with his eyes staring deeply into your soul.

I've been looking sad in all the nicest places

(Baby, baby, I feel crazy)

I see you around in all these empty faces

(Up all night, all night and every day)

Suddenly, he spoke.

“We need to talk.”

You bit your lower lip. You didn’t know if you could give him another chance. It hurt you to just look at him. You could see his own pain flashing through his eyes and instead, you led him back to his office much to his surprise.

Once there, you took a deep breath and shook your head.

“Negan…”

“No. Let me talk, okay? It’s my fucking turn now.”

You sighed, sitting at his sofa. You looked down at your lap and stiffened when Negan decided to sit next to you. When he reached for your hands, you sighed and felt the warmth behind it. You looked up at him and noticed that the façade he showed around the Sanctuary was now diminishing right before your eyes.

“I am a mess without you. I thought – When you left, I thought it wasn’t going to bother me, but it did. That night, I wanted you to come to my room. I wanted you to fall asleep in my arms like you fucking used to do, [Y/N]. I can’t think straight. I can’t focus. Nothing is the same since you decided to leave, doll.”

“You still have wives, Negan.”

“I haven’t touched them since.”

“You’re missing the point…”

“Then help me fucking understand.”

You sighed and pulled your hands from his. If you were distracting him from running the Sanctuary as smoothly as it should be, then maybe it was time for you to leave. You weren’t helping him restore the old world.

“Negan, if I have to explain to you why the wives are a problem, then it seems you haven’t understood why I left in the first place. Did you think I wanted to leave? I was in love with you, and I’m positive that I still am, but I can’t do it anymore. I want you. To myself, but I am not going to ask you to get rid of the wives for me,” you admitted.

“You know it’s only for appearances…”

You stood up and looked at him. Tears were clouding your eyes again.

“I can’t do this again. I can’t get into another argument because you fail to grasp my point of view, Negan. You play a role in this Sanctuary. I get it. You’re the powerful leader who can get any woman he wants and you have proof of that with five of your wives, but I can’t sit around here and see that every goddamn day.”

“What the fuck are you saying then?” he mumbled.

“I’m leaving the Sanctuary. You said that if we wanted to leave, we could. I’m doing just that because I can’t make you choose me and I can’t stay here without you getting distracted. You have a place to run, people to keep safe and you can’t do that if you keep thinking about me,” you said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

Negan sighed, leaning into your lips before you pulled away immediately. “If you go… It’s going to kill me,” he admitted.

“Negan… This was always one-sided. I can’t continue loving a man when he can’t love me back. You’ve told me before that you didn’t want to love again, so, I’m going to leave. I don’t want you to have to feel the pain that you felt with Lucille…”

He stood up and followed you to the door, grabbing your wrist to turn you around. Tears were now clouding his beautiful eyes.

But you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t ask Negan to get rid of the wives, to change what he built for this entire place simply because you had fallen in love with him. If you survived on your own before, you could do it again.

“I can’t protect you out there…”

“You can’t protect me here,” you replied.

You slowly removed your wrist from his grasp and turned the door. You looked over your shoulder and sighed, tears falling down your face as you wiped it away immediately.

“Good bye, Negan…”

“[Y/N]… Come on, doll.”

You ignored his pleas, leaving his office and heading to your room to pack a bag. You never expected to leave the Sanctuary, but you also didn’t expect to fall in love with the leader. It was time you moved on. You couldn’t make Negan admit to his feelings and even if he did, deep down you knew he wasn’t ever going to be ready to love again after Lucille.

Negan watched as you disappeared, slamming his door shut. He grabbed the end of Lucille and gripped it tightly, his knuckles turning white. If he couldn’t make you stay after he begged, then he was done trying.

Once you packed enough clothing, food, and water, you placed the bag on your back and headed towards the front gates of the Sanctuary. Hesitantly, you looked over your shoulder and noticed Negan staring at you.

You no longer saw the pain behind his eyes. Instead, you saw the blank look and anger behind it. You knew you had broken him, just as he had broken you.

After you stepped through the gates, you sighed heavily and began walking away from the Sanctuary, from Negan.

I just wanna keep callin' your name

Until you come back home

Until you come back home

…

[thran-duils]

Lesson Learned

Title: Lesson Learned Pairing: Reader/Negan Summary: Reader is caught flirting and Negan needs to teach her a lesson. Words: 1,757 Warnings: Language, SMUT Author’s Note: As always, if you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know!

Masterpost

The perfect ending to Negan’s day had been one of his guys handing him an unopened bottle of scotch that they had found out on a run. Negan had gathered Simon, a couple of glasses, and was heading out towards the back of the Sanctuary to sit in a few chairs in the sun. He could also check in on the process of the garden that some of his people had been adding to.

Placing the bottle and glasses on a small table between two chairs, Negan made to sit down. But something stopped him in his tracks across the garden by one of the sheds.

Negan’s eyes widened seeing one of his wives, Y/N, leaning in close to one of his guys, Nathan. Her breasts were spilling over the top of her dress, no doubt wearing a great push up, and Nathan was not doing anything to avert his eyes. Negan’s head almost exploded the second Nathan reached out, placing a hand on her knee. Y/N nonchalantly scooted away from his grasp while still smiling.

“The fucking fuck…” Negan trailed off before beginning to stride towards the pair of them, Lucille swung over his shoulder. He had every intention of swinging that bat into Nathan’s head.

Simon’s hand wrapped around Negan’s arm and held him in place, despite Simon’s best impulse to not do that at the moment. Negan’s glare was melting.

“She’s not into him,” was all Simon said.

Negan snarled, “What?”

“Look at her. She’s trying to get something from him.”

Negan looked unconvinced before sliding his eyes back over towards his wife across the yard.

“He’s got a couple cans of pop sitting behind him. And when has she ever flipped her hair over her shoulder like that? Usually doesn’t act like a ditz. Furthermore, she moved away from him. Just putting pieces together before you overreact.”

“Simon—“

“I get it. She shouldn’t be throwing her tits at him for soda pop because she should be going through you for things. And obviously, the whole wife thing. But, looks like he’s been stashing the stuff. We ran out last week. How does he have it if we ran out and it wasn’t pushed through inventory? And you wouldn’t have known about it if this wasn’t happening right now. Who is really to blame here?”

Negan studied Simon for a moment before replying, “Lucille’s gonna have a loud ass resounding answer in a minute.”

Simon exhaled heavily, rolling his eyes slightly more so in annoyance thinking about what he was going to have to clean up rather than the fact Negan had resumed his crusade across the yard.

<> <> <>

A shadow fell over the pair of you and you almost choked seeing Negan towering over you. Straightening up quickly, you pushed your hair behind your ear, the smile falling from your face. Your thigh was now cold where Nathan’s hand had been seconds before.

He practically jumped off the seat. “Negan, I didn’t know you guys came back.”

The look on Negan’s face was taunting. “Yeah, I can fucking see that. Cause otherwise, you wouldn’t have your sorry as shit rod pointing at my wife.”

Nathan looked extremely uncomfortable, adjusting himself to try to hide his erection to no avail.

Negan’s eyes turned to you and you stiffened under his gaze. He asked, “You mind telling me, sweetheart, why you’re meeting out here with him? Giving him a show of my goods on top of that?”

Nathan’s eyes bugged out of his head and he interjected, practically stumbling over himself to try to correct it, “I wasn’t –”

“No!” Negan barked at Nathan, pointing Lucille at him threatingly. “Was I talking to you?”

“No, sir.”

“Yessir, that is the correct goddamn answer. Not talking to you, Nathan. So keep your fucking mouth shut until I ask you a question!” He rounded on you again, “You got an answer for me?”

Swallowing sharply, you kept his eye contact. “I wanted a Pepsi.”

Negan snapped his fingers and exclaimed, “Right, the pop. The pop we somehow now have when inventory says we don’t.” Nathan looked like he wanted to melt into the ground. “You mind telling me how you conjured up that amazing fucking miracle, Nathan? Now, see, there’s a question directed at you. Speak the hell up. You got the goddamn stage to yourself. Spotlight and all.”

It looked like Nathan was running a million things through his mind quickly, trying to come up with something. All that he finally said, sounding on the edge of panic, “I’m sorry, Negan. I just wanted to have a few to myself. I –”

(gif)

“Actually, you know what?” Negan interrupted. “I don’t fucking care!” In a swift motion, Negan swung Lucille back before she made contact with Nathan’s crotch.

Nathan let out a pained noise before grasping at his crotch, collapsing into the dirt. He was gasping for air, in the fetal position. Your eyes widened seeing this happen but you forced yourself to stay put.

Exhaling with force, Negan pointed Lucille down at Nathan. “Nothing you can say is going to even fucking come close to me even starting to give a shit about your reason. You keep supplies from me, try to pawn them off, AND lay your pussy ass hands on my wife? You’re lucky the only thing I’m doing to you is giving your limp dick a kiss from Lucille! My girl knows how to flirt doesn’t she? Quite the fucking show stopper!” Nathan was still whimpering on the ground, more than likely still seeing stars. “Shit, you can’t even handle a light kiss from her. Too much of a woman for you.”

Directing at Simon he said, “Get some poor fucks to help carry this shitbag to Carson.”

It didn’t take long for some guys, including Simon to take Nathan away.

Negan’s attention was all on you again. His eyes ran over you slowly, causing your anxiety to start to rise again, trying to anticipate what he was going to do.

He crouched down in front of you, “You sure know how to get blood pumping. In more ways than one.” You didn’t know what to say to that, so you said nothing. Negan reached out, playing with a strand of your hair. “Speaking of getting blood pumping, fucking shame about Nathan’s cock. You start flashing those pretty tits, he should know what to do. And it sure as fucking hell isn’t giving into you and drooling over the possibility of you giving him an out of this world tit job with a little mouth action.  What he SHOULD be telling you if you want something, it’s gotta go through me!” His eyes left you for a second before he bent down, snatching up one of the cans. He held it out to you and you took it hesitantly. “Like that. Look how nice that was. Feels good doesn’t it?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he practically purred and you felt a turning tide in the wind with his tone. “Now, what am I going to do with you? My wife out here flirting for a drink.”

“I’m sorry,” you told him.

Negan stroked your face, “I know you are, darling. But, I still can’t let this go.” He reached out, grabbing the pop and placed it down next to you on the wood bench. His hand snaked around your wrist and he pulled you up with him. Without a word, he lead you around the other side of the shed and in between the wall and bush.

“I think you oughta have a reminder about who you belong to,” he growled, his eyes aflame. “Thinking about that last tit job you gave me already has me hard as a rock. But, I’m gonna be fucking that mouthwatering pussy today.”

You trembled with his words, realizing you were going to like your punishment.

Negan didn’t waste any time reaching behind you and unzipping your dress enough to pull down the straps enough to expose your tits to him before he undid your bra as well, your breasts bouncing free.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he husked before hitching your dress up to your hips and pushing your panties down. You kicked them off as he freed himself from his pants, pumping his hand up and down his length.

Wrapping his arms around you, you followed his lead and let him pick you up, your legs wrapping around him. His head pressed in and he let out a pleased moan feeling your walls contract, adjusting to him. He pulled out before plunging back in, building up his pace.

Negan’s dick hit with precision, impaling your spot, and you cried out. His hand slammed over your mouth, his movements stilling for a moment, His breath was hot on your ear, “Sweetheart, as much as I love hearing you screaming for my hard ass cock, we need to keep this shit discrete for now. We chose a pretty fucking public spot. Can you behave, baby?” You nodded and he smiled before sinking back into you, fucking you into the wall once more.

What would have been your cries of pleasure came out in gasped breaths and whimpers as you stifled yourself. You held tight to Negan as he grunted, working the two of you up into a frenzy.

Negan’s lips met yours roughly and he demanded in a hushed tone, “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours, Negan!” you gasped out, grasping his hair. This only made Negan drive himself into you quicker.

“You drive me fucking wild, sweetheart,” he groaned, his movements become erratic. You knew he was getting close. And he came undone, biting back a shout, cutting it off as you felt him cum in you in hot spurts. You released yourself, letting the waves crash into you.

Negan was gentle with you when he let you down. He looked around for your panties, picked them up, and smirked, “I’m gonna suggest you don’t put those back on until they’re washed.”

You gave him a look as you pushed your dress back down and covered your breasts again. His smile still made you melt. As big of a dick as he was, he was a good fuck and he would always be attractive to you.

“I think you learned your lesson. Right, baby?”

“I’m yours.”

Negan’s eyes lit up at that, a small smirk playing on his lips. His eyes ran over you again, slowly and lewdly, before he grinned, “Goddamn, I’m a lucky asshole.”

(gif)

~~~

Tags: @donnanoblerocks @sweetvengeancee @angelfuzzy2 @kathyjimenezg1 @soraxa101 @papatwd @megustacuandosonreis @faythelyse @bandimagines22@sylvanasthebansheequeen @constellationsolo @thatgingefromtheinternet @klaineaholic @queen0fants @prince-halfblood @summer-binging-spn @toxic-ink @nicholeex @hunters-hiraeth @jessatrophy @abwrites @sammskellington @hellokittyswiftie @nuvoleincielo @adaliamalfoy @lauradoesnotexist @themadhattersqueen @hayleighloatx @castielsnonexistantharp @p0wderedtoast @jdmsrovia @voidobsession @artemisxeros

[pedroscurls]

Title: The Proposal (one-shot)

Character(s): Negan and Sara (original female character) Summary: So, this was a request that I received from @a-girl-interupted​: “I had an idea of a character with negan where she eventually becomes his/a wife and somehow he realizes how important it would be to her to have an actual proposal and wedding. We dont want to Negan too soft and the details are up to you but I would cry to see this” Word Count: 8,790 Warning: Smut!!! Author’s Note: BIG THANK YOU TO @ofdragonsanddreams16 for the idea of this story’s proposal!!!! I had fun writing this! I also added a bit of backstory to the new wife hehe. Also, italics are flashbacks! I hope you enjoyed this story, @a-girl-interupted​!!! I surely did my best to accomplish what you wanted and I hope I did just that. Enjoy! :) 

(GIF Source: @justnegan)

Sara was a newcomer to the Sanctuary. After she was situated with her own room, a shower, and a fresh set of clothes, she finally felt safe. It had been a long time since she felt that way. She had been with a group prior to the Saviors helping her into this new community, but even then, she didn’t feel safe.

When she arrived at the Sanctuary, Sara noticed the gates surrounding the large building. She also took notice of the dead that were in the front yard.

Suddenly, she was taken out of her reverie when she heard a loud knock on the door. Simon had told her that the “boss” was going to be talking to her about options that she could choose from before she arrived to the Sanctuary.

Slowly opening the door, Sara widened her eyes. It was Negan. The same Negan that had made a lasting impression on her when he was in the hospital with his sick-wife Lucille.

As their eyes met, Sara noticed the look of familiarity that flashed in his brown orbs. His hair was slicked back with a slight stubble littering across his face. The red scarf along with the leather jacket did not go unnoticed, but she felt slightly uneasy at the sight of his barbed-wire bat.

“Sara?” Negan muttered.

“Negan…” She responded.

“Holy fuck. I thought you were dead,” he said, stepping into her room without asking. Sara nodded to herself, shutting the door and running a hand absently through her hair.

“Well, I must be lucky if I made it this long.”

“Lucky? Bullshit, doll. You don’t get this far if you weren’t a fighter.” Negan grinned, flashing her the dimples she remembered so fondly.

Negan had been resting against the wall after his wife, Lucille, underwent another session of chemotherapy. Their nurse, Sara, always attempted to lighten the mood with her corny jokes. She always believed that laughter was the best medicine.

Sara hesitantly rested a hand on his broad shoulder. Negan was much taller and much bigger than she was. It was always so heartbreaking to see the biggest guys melt into a puddle of tears and emotions at their sick loved ones.

“Hey…” She whispered.

Negan cleared his throat, straightening up and brushing her hand off. “I’m fucking fine.”

“Negan…”

“No, you don’t have to fucking check up on me, okay, Sara? I’ll be fine. I just wish my fucking wife wasn’t in so much goddamn pain.”

Sara sighed, dropping her hand back to her side. “Want to hear a story?” She asked, trying to get his mind off Lucille. She figured she could talk to him while Lucille was in a chemotherapy session.

“What?” He answered, looking over his shoulder at her.

“Well, how about we grab a cup of coffee and go talk outside? It’s a nice day out.”

Negan groaned in irritation, but followed anyway. The pair retrieved a cup of coffee before leaving the hospital to sit at the bench outside. It was a beautiful sunny, warm day and Negan didn’t understand how the world could go on while his Lucille was struggling to stay alive.

“I know what you’re doing, Sara,” he said, sipping on his coffee.

“And what is that?”

“You’re trying to get my mind off Lucille. I’m not fucking stupid.”

“I never said you were, but it’s better than you counting the minutes until she’s back, right?” Sara replied.

Negan didn’t answer. He knew she was right.

“So, about that story…” She began.

“About fucking time.”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Sara teased.

“Who else do you think I got it from?” Negan chuckled lowly, dropping his eyes to the pavement.

“Anyway, I always had this dream of this perfect proposal following an even more perfect wedding.”

“Okay, why the fuck does this have anything to do with me?” Negan arched a brow.

“I’m trying to tell you a story and you’re not listening.”

“Fine, fine. Shit.”

Sara smiled, looking out to see a few doctors and patients walking around on this beautiful day. She sighed, glancing down at her left hand to see the vacant finger where a ring should have been.

“The first time I realized I wanted to have the perfect proposal and wedding was when I attended my aunt’s wedding. It was gorgeous. Her husband was – He was a romantic and –”

“Sounds like a fucking pussy,” Negan interrupted.

Sara shook her head, playfully smacking his arm. “Women love men who are hopeless romantics, Negan.”

“Yeah, yeah. Continue your story.”

“Well, I had been so stuck on that fantasy of mine that I missed out on so many other great guys. I just assumed all guys would – you know, they would put effort into a proposal,” Sara shrugged.

“Do you have a fucking boyfriend? Maybe you should be telling him this story instead of me.”

“I’m trying to talk about it so you can tell me how you proposed to Lucille. You’re missing the point,” she replied.

“I’m not going to tell you how I proposed to my wife,” he said, sipping his coffee.

“Why not? Afraid you’ll be one of those pussies?”

Negan turned to look at her, narrowing his eyes. “I would be careful if I were you, doll.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t see you as a romantic type either,” she teased.

“Oh, you’re fucking hilarious, huh?” Negan chuckled.

Sara smiled. She was glad to have clouded his mind from reality for a brief moment. Sometimes Negan needed to remember the good times that he shared with his wife rather than focus on their current situation.

Suddenly, Sara felt a buzz on her pager and her smiled broadened.

“Lucille’s session is done. She’s back in her room and she’s resting. See? Isn’t it better to talk to people than impatiently wait in the hall with your head against the wall?” Sara said, standing from the bench.

“Whatever. If you think I’m going to say that you’re right, you’ve got another fucking thing coming.”

“Come on. Let’s go see your wife,” she smiled.

Negan looked at her. He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander. He had checked her out long before the world ended, but there was always the underlying guilt that always ate away at him.

It didn’t feel right to think his wife’s nurse was hot.

“So…” Negan began.

Sara bit her lower lip. “Don’t tell me you’ve got all shy on me now, Negan.”

“Can you really imagine someone like me being fucking shy, Sara?”

“Good point. I cannot,” she laughed quietly, moving to sit on the edge of her bed.

“You get a guy who can give you your perfect proposal and dream wedding, doll?”

Sara shook her head, “Didn’t get a chance to before the world ended, so nope. Though, I don’t mind. Probably better off this way, you know? One less person to worry about.”

Negan sighed. Somehow, he disagreed with her. He would do anything to have Lucille back.

“Well, that’s a damn shame. I was hoping you’d give me some fucking love story.”

“I’m sure that’s never going to happen. The odds of finding the perfect wedding dress and wedding ring is nonexistent in this new world.”

“You never know, Sara. I’m sure bridal stores weren’t looted when the world turned to shit.”

Negan smiled. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but reminisce about the long talks they shared while Lucille was in the hospital. He found himself not only missing his wife even more, but also the casual conversation with light flirting that he and Sara seemed to find themselves in.

“Can I say something?” Sara asked.

“Sure, why the fuck not?”

“I’m sorry… You know, about Lucille…”

Negan tightened his jaw. He gripped the end of his bat tightly. Somehow, he didn’t want her to stop talking about his wife. If it were anyone, though, their heads would have already been a mush on the ground.

“So am I. What I fucking did to her… I deserved it.”

“You’ve got to stop blaming yourself for a mistake,” Sara replied.

“I cheated on her, Sara! I cheated on her and when I told her that I chose her, she decided to get angry at me? I don’t fucking understand!” Negan yelled, sitting at their usual bench outside the hospital.

Lucille must have been at another one of her chemotherapy sessions.

“You cheated on her?” Sara asked.

“It was a fucking mistake.”

“Then maybe you should start thinking of it like that too, Negan.”

“Lucille got angry at me for choosing her, for choosing to stay by her side when she needs me the fucking most. I don’t understand,” he sighed.

“She’s only looking out for you, Negan. I know you hate talking about it, but from what I’m hearing… Lucille doesn’t want you wasting your time with her if she knows she’s going to… To die…”

Negan tightened his jaw. “She’s not going to fucking die.”

“I didn’t say she was. You’re not listening… Again. Don’t you ever think that she says what she says because she’s looking out for you, Negan?”

“She doesn’t have to fucking look out for me! She’s fucking sick and it’s because I was never home. I wasn’t a good fucking husband and –”

Sara instantly rested a hand on his forearm, offering a kind gesture. Negan instantly looked down at her hand. He knew that if he didn’t have Sara, he would have lost his mind already.

“We all make mistakes, you know? Some more severe than others, but you aren’t being punished for what you did, Negan. Lucille is sick and you’re doing more than what anyone would do, okay? You’re still here. You chose her. That’s saying something…”

Negan tightened his jaw and pulled away from her despite the urge to just lean against her. Sara was making him feel better, but he knew that if he got attached, the attraction would soon follow and he didn’t want to make that same mistake again.

It was already bad enough that her beautiful smile and big, dark brown eyes lured him in.

­Negan shook his head. He couldn’t let some woman he knew from his old life change him into a puddle of emotions. He was the leader of the Sanctuary. He had an image to uphold.

“Listen, let’s get down to fucking business,” Negan said, shifting his demeanor completely.

Sara furrowed a brow and nodded, dropping her eyes. “Simon mentioned a few options?”

“Yeah, but that was before I fucking knew it was you that he was bringing in. I should probably tell you something before I ask though,” he said.

“And that is?”

“I’ve got five wives.”

Sara arched a brow. “I’m sorry. Did I mishear you? What? Why?”

“I don’t expect you to fucking understand, but I’m telling you this simply because you’re the only one here that knows who I am before the world fucking ended,” Negan began.

Sara couldn’t help but wonder if Lucille’s death triggered Negan into avoiding commitment. Either way, she didn’t know why he had to have five women at his disposal in a world like this one. It made her wonder if he loved all five of them in their own way.

“Do you love them?” Sara asked.

Negan narrowed his eyes. He looked insulted.

“What? Fuck no. Listen. I have an image to uphold here, okay?”

“And what image is that? Hugh Hefner? We’re in the damn apocalypse, Negan.”

Negan tightened his jaw and stood up, walking towards her. He stood in front of Sara, staring down at her as she remained sitting at the edge of her twin-sized bed.

“I need a sense of fucking control. It’s difficult already as it is to run this entire community. Having wives… It shows how powerful I am. I treat them like fucking princesses. Whatever they want, they get. Nail polish. Dresses. Lingerie. Alcohol. Anything you can think of that is lost in this world… They fucking have the luxury of,” Negan explained.

“I just don’t understand…”

“I don’t expect you to, but I figured I’d give you a damn explanation before I ask you an important question.”

Sara furrowed a brow, looking up at him. At the hospital, she had daydreamed about him many times, despite the guilt that was eating at her when she would tend to Lucille.

“And what’s that?”

“Well, Sara… You can marry me and you can live that fucking luxurious life. I can be the husband you always wanted to have and –”

Suddenly, Sara stood up and brought an open hand to connect with his cheek. She didn’t know where she got the urge to slap him, but after knowing what he went through, it seemed like he was brushing his feelings away rather than coping with what happened to Lucille.

“You know, I think I’m fifty percent more into you now,” Negan grinned.

“Lucille died and this is how you’re living?” Sara hesitated.

“You weren’t there to fucking see what happened, Sara! Those wives are nothing to me!”

“Then why do you have them, Negan? Help me understand because from where I’m standing, it looks like you never coped with Lucille’s death and that alone is going to eat you alive. You can go ahead and put on a façade for everyone else, but I know you,” she replied.

Negan tightened his jaw and propped the bat on his shoulder. He had enough of talking to her.

“Also, this is Lucille,” Negan said, motioning to his bat, “and she can get very thirsty.”

Sara sighed. She wasn’t afraid. In fact, she was worried about him. It had been a long time since they last saw one another and a longer time since Lucille passed away. If he didn’t have the chance to cope with it now, then she didn’t know if he ever would.

“If you have an infirmary, Negan, I will work there. I’ll pull my own weight,” Sara suggested, her eyes deviating to the baseball bat.

“Then I guess that’s a fucking no on the proposal,” he replied.

“It wasn’t romantic enough,” she lied.

Sara walked out of her room and waited for Negan to follow, glancing over her shoulder. She noticed the grin on his face, his long strides finally catching up to her. She followed him closely, looking around the area before they approached the infirmary after a few flights of stairs down.

He opened the door to reveal another man dressed in a white coat; he looked like a doctor.

“Dr. Carson, we’ve got a newbie with us. She used to be a fucking nurse before this world turned to fucking shit, so here is your new assistant that you’ve been asking for,” he said, resting a hand on Sara’s lower back to usher her inside.

Sara glanced over at him, arching a brow.

“I’ll let you get settled in, doll. I’ll have one of my men show you to dinner tonight,” Negan smiled, looking down at her.

Sara nodded, glancing around the room. She finally felt like she belonged somewhere. Everything around her was so familiar that she just couldn’t wait to start working.

“Okay, Negan… Thank you.” Instantly, Sara rested a hand on his forearm. She squeezed it gently, just like how she would usually do whenever he was stressed about Lucille. Letting her hand drop back to her side, she turned on her heel and walked further into the room to talk to Dr. Carson.

Negan arched a brow, tightening his jaw. He let out a heavy sigh before leaving the infirmary. He didn’t have time to think about her. He had other things to do like run the Sanctuary and make sure the rest of the communities were cooperating with him and his rules.

It had been a week since Negan last talked to Sara. He kept wondering how she was doing or if she was adjusting well to the new change, but he knew he had to keep his distance.

Since seeing her, the memories of his old life haunted his dreams. He didn’t know if they were dreams or nightmares; he decided it was the latter. He would wake in a sweat, reaching out in hopes that this was just a bad dream and he would wake up with Lucille in his arms.

So, one night, he decided to pay Sara a visit. He didn’t care if it was late and past curfew, he needed to talk to her. After pulling on a white shirt with his pajama pants, he slipped on his leather jacket and boots and grabbed Lucille to place on his shoulder.

Negan usually went to one of his wives to distract him from the nightmares that awoke him, but he hadn’t been with them since Sara came to the Sanctuary.

Finally at her door, he knocked lightly. Negan didn’t want to startle her.

Sara was fast asleep in the comfort of her own bed. She wondered why Negan was avoiding her. A week passed since she last saw him and she had no idea why he didn’t stop by to see how she was doing, but she figured it was because he was busy.

When she heard a quiet knock at her door, Sara sighed. She instantly grabbed one of the books that were on the shelf as a weapon. It was heavy and with the right amount of force behind it, she was sure she could knock someone out if they tried something.

Slowly, she opened the door. Sara dropped the book with a loud thud at the sight of Negan. He looked distressed.

“Negan?”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he just walked in, picked up the book and set it back on her shelf. Instantly, he removed his jacket and his boots before lying on her bed. Sara furrowed a brow. She didn’t know what was going on.

“Um, Negan…”

“Just lie with me, Sara.” He mumbled.

Sara sighed, walking back to her bed and lying down next to him. Her twin-sized bed did not give them enough space, so she placed his arm over her shoulder and she curled up against him. She didn’t know why she found it so easy to be so close to him, but she didn’t mind.

It had been a long time since she cuddled with someone.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sara whispered.

“No,” he replied.

“Well, I’m here if you do, okay?”

“I’m fine,” he lied.

Sara sighed, sitting up which caused him to groan in response. He looked up at her through the darkness, gently tugging on her arm to make her lie back down.

“Negan…”

“I’m fucking fine, Sara.”

“Then why are you here?”

Negan sighed, tightening his jaw. “I can’t fucking come in here?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Negan. What’s wrong?”

Instead of replying, he grabbed Lucille and his leather jacket. He looked over at her and shook his head, slipping his boots on. Sara knew exactly what he was going to do. She knew he was going to leave, so she quickly stood up and ran to the door to block his way out.

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asked.

“I don’t have fucking nightmares. Now, move or I will fucking make you, Sara.”

“Why are you acting like you’re invincible? You’re going to break one of these days and when you do, I hope it isn’t too late.”

He looked down at her. The moon casted a dim light through her window and while it was dark, Negan could see her perfectly. Here was this woman that had the only connection to his old life. He had even gotten into countless arguments with Lucille when she suggested that he start dating Sara.

Now, it didn’t seem like a bad idea except for the fact that the dead had risen and living wasn’t guaranteed anymore.

So, instead of replying, he simply ignored her to start a new conversation.

“Did you rethink your decision on marrying me?” He asked.

“Why can’t you talk to me? You know, like before…”

Negan sighed, “Because there isn’t a hospital bench to sit on.”

Suddenly, Sara placed both hands onto his cheeks, brushing her thumbs against his stubbly cheeks. It was enough to calm him down and make his head droop lower.

“Sara…”

“Talk to me…” She replied.

Negan sighed, dropping the bat and wrapping his arms around her waist. He buried his face against her neck, shutting his eyes tightly. All he could see now was Lucille and how he witnessed her change into one of the dead.

Sara was slightly shocked at how cuddly he was. She didn’t expect him to react this way. She had seen him crumble like this before, but certainly not as bad as this.

“Negan…”

He simply shook his head, pulling back to straighten up. He looked down at her and sighed. Maybe having an old friend from the old world was a bad idea. It just made him think about the life that they could have lived if the world didn’t end.

“I could keep you safe, Sara. I could protect you. Being my wife… It means extra security. I can keep an eye on you,” he said.

“Negan… You know where I stand on marriage.”

“Yeah, you want a fucking princess wedding and a perfect proposal. I fucking get it. But if you didn’t know, the world ended. That shit won’t happen.” Negan replied, tightening his jaw.

“That’s not it, Negan. I can’t get married in this world, okay? I don’t want to have to worry about you and the fact that I’ll have to share you with five other women? I’ll pass.”

“So, it’s the sharing?” Negan asked.

Sara sighed, stepping aside to allow him through the door. She shook her head and decided to walk back to her bed, lying on her side.

“Good night, Negan.”

Negan looked over at her and sighed, removing his jacket and his boots once more. Hesitantly, he climbed into bed with her and wrapped an arm around her from behind. The twin bed was too small for the both of them, so Negan shifted forward until their bodies were pressed against one another.

“You know, Lucille used to anger me when she said that you and I would make a good fucking couple,” he whispered.

Sara arched a brow, shutting her eyes and absently leaning back against him.

“What?”

“When I’m gone, Negan… Make sure you have Sara, okay? You two will be perfect,” Lucille said, lying back against her hospital bed.

Negan sighed. He didn’t want to have go through this conversation again.

“Can you please stop?” He asked.

“I’m not getting any better, Negan. You’re going to need someone. I know that you and her talk when I’m gone. She’s good for you,” she coughed, turning away.

Negan didn’t want to argue with her. Instead, he sat at the edge of her bed to take her hand. It looked so frail and tiny compared to his own. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, gently lifting her headwrap to reveal her bald head. Even without hair, she was still so beautiful to him.

“No one will ever be good for me. You’ve got that position, Lucille.”

“Oh no. Are you getting all mushy with me?” She teased.

“What Sara and I do… We’re just talking. I learned my fucking lesson.”

“When I’m gone –” Lucille began, bringing a finger to his lips to shush him. “Just know that I forgive you, all right? Sara will help you through this process…”

“She’s just a fucking friend, Lucille. Plus, you’re not going anywhere.”

“Negan, come on…” She mumbled, dropping her hand back to her side on the hospital bed.

Negan knew she was right. Sara had managed to take his mind off the pain that Lucille felt during her sessions and while he was grateful for meeting Sara, he couldn’t think about being with another woman while Lucille was dying.

“Fine, okay? Fuck, fine.”

“She knew that you helped me through a lot of shit while she was in the hospital,” Negan whispered. His lips hovered against her ear. He had forgotten what it felt like to fall asleep with a warm body next to him and despite having five wives, nothing would be as meaningful as this particular moment he was sharing with Sara.

Slowly, Sara turned to face him. She kissed his cheek and rested back against the pillow.

“Lucille was a great woman, Negan.”

“I know she was. I bet you she’s fucking laughing up there saying, ‘I told you so.’ That woman always loved to be fucking right.”

He reveled in having a familiar woman in his arms. Sara knew who he was before this. She knew what he did, what kind of person he was and no matter how many times he told her that he had an image to uphold, she would never believe it.

“If you ever need to just get away, you can come in here, okay? Just as long as you tell me what’s going on,” Sara mumbled, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

Negan didn’t know what to say. Sure, Sara had been the only one to get him to talk about his problems, but the world was different now. If his men found out that he wasn’t as fearless as they thought he was, everything he had built would crumble.

“I’ll be fucking fine,” he replied, resting his cheek against the crown of her head.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Can we just go to fucking sleep?”

Sara laughed quietly, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe you didn’t learn how to tone down your vulgarity.”

“What? It’s a part of who I am,” Negan smiled.

“Right. Good night, Negan.”

“Night, Sara.”

The following morning, Sara awoke to see Negan climbing out of the bed. She had grown accustomed to waking up before the sun even began to rise. Needless to say, she wasn’t shocked to see Negan getting up at the crack of dawn.

“Not going to say goodbye?” She teased, turning on her side.

Negan glanced over his shoulder at her. He still couldn’t believe that she was here. Lucille was right. Sara was going to help him through her death and while it had been years since Lucille died, that wound will always be fresh.

Hopefully, not for long though.

“Well, I was getting there. I just woke up,” he said, sitting at the edge of her bed.

“I’m just teasing. By the way, you snore. You know that?”

“And that’s my fucking cue to leave. I don’t like liars.”

Sara laughed quietly, climbing off the bed to grab a new set of clothes to get her day started at the infirmary. “Oh come on. When have I ever lied?”

Negan narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m not going to even fucking reply. You women always love to be right and I don’t want to acknowledge it.”

He grabbed Lucille once he turned the door, glancing at Sara and nodding once.

“Have a good day, Negan.”

“You too, doll.”

Sara changed into her clean pair of clothes. She glanced at her small bed and smiled to herself. She had fallen asleep in Negan’s arms and for once in her life, she felt safe. She knew Negan could protect her, but there was no way that she would agree to marrying him.

She never did like sharing.

Negan was walking down the hallway to go to the infirmary. He couldn’t take his mind off Sara. Usually, he wouldn’t take rejection too lightly, but he knew that Sara had a reason behind it. He knew that she was attracted to him just as he was attracted to her, but Negan wanted to be sure that when she said yes, she said it because she meant it.

Taking his walkie-talkie out from the waistband of his pants, he pressed the button to call Simon.

“Simon. Know any jewelry stores around here?” He asked.

Simon replied almost immediately, “I think so. I can take a look at the map.”

“Great. Bring it by my office later.”

He lowered the volume on his walkie-talkie before walking into the infirmary. Negan smiled while he watched Sara walk around the small room, maneuvering around Dr. Carson to get what she needed to count the items for inventory.

It brought him back to the times he spent at the hospital.

“Hey, doll.” Negan said.

Sara turned, smiling in his direction. Dr. Carson stiffened, excusing himself from the room.

“Shouldn’t you be bossing people around? That’s what leaders do, right?” Sara teased, turning her attention back to counting.

“Oh, you’re growing a set of balls on you, aren’t you?”

“Maybe because I don’t fear the leader,” she whispered.

Negan chuckled, shaking his head. He glanced over his shoulder before sitting at the edge of the examination table. “Yeah. Don’t say that again unless you want to get fucking punished.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” she winked.

“Careful, Sara.”

She laughed quietly, turning around to look up at him. She tilted her head and smiled to herself.

“So, Simon…” She began.

“What about?”

“Is he seeing anyone?” Sara asked, biting her lower lip.

“What? I don’t fucking know. Why?”

“I think he’s kind of hot.”

“Uh, what the fuck, Sara? I’m right here.”

“And…?” Sara tilted her head, clear amusement written on her face.

“What kind of fucking guys are you into anyway? I don’t think we’ve ever talked about that,” he asked, tightening his jaw.

“Well, um, I like older men… Facial hair is a definite plus. Dimples,” she smiled, walking away from him.

Negan narrowed his eyes, walking after her once he stepped down the examination table. He gently took ahold of her upper arm and turned her around, looking into her eyes.

“You’re busting my fucking balls, aren’t you?”

Sara burst into a fit of giggles, bringing a hand to her mouth as she stared up at him.

“It was always so funny to tease you,” she said.

“I don’t fucking see why,” he replied.

Just before Sara could respond, Simon’s voice filtered the small room in a low volume of his walkie-talkie. She arched a brow and felt uneasy about what the other man was saying.

“Found one, boss. We’re good to go whenever you’d like,” Simon said.

Negan looked down at her, nodding to himself. “Sounds good. Load up a truck. I’ll be going alone. You’re in charge until I fucking get back.”

Sara sighed, setting down the clipboard. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and buried her face against his chest. Negan was taken aback, but that didn’t stop him from wrapping his own arms around her slender frame.

“What’s with the sudden hug?”

“Why are you going alone?” She asked.

“It’s something I just have to fucking do alone.”

Sara sighed, pulling away from him. She didn’t know why she had the sudden urge to hug him. She hadn’t been here long, but last night and having him in the same bed with her was something she yearned more of.

“Then you better come back,” Sara said.

“You going to fucking miss me, doll?”

She playfully punched his arm, nodding. “You’re the only person I know here. Of course I’m going to miss you.”

“Well, that’s a relief to hear. I better get a move on if I want to be back in time for dinner. Keep an eye out on how things are running here,” Negan said. She was truly the only one he could really trust.

“Just as long as you come back, yeah.”

Negan chuckled, propping Lucille onto his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Sara. I’ll be fine.”

NEGAN’S POV

I can’t believe I’m actually going to this damn jewelry store just to get a damn ring. I never thought I’d find myself in this type of store in my life, but here I fucking am. I know it was dangerous to do this myself, but I didn’t need to have my men or the rest of the Sanctuary know what I was up to.

If Sara said yes to my proposal, I was going to get rid of the rest of my wives. If I couldn’t make things right with Lucille, then maybe I could make it right with Sara. Maybe this was life giving me another chance with a woman in a long-term commitment.

I pulled up to the jewelry store. It seemed deserted from the outside. I just hope nothing popped out at me. I was just going to get the first ring that caught my eye and hope it was the perfect size.

I climbed out of the truck carefully, grabbing Lucille and walking inside the store. I tapped against the wall to conjure up a few quiet bangs. After a few minutes, no potential threats appear and I allowed myself to relax just a bit.

I looked through the various rings. It reminded me when I went shopping for Lucille’s engagement ring. It was so long ago that the memory seemed slightly hazy at this point. Once I found a ring, I quietly used the end of my sweet Lucille to break the glass.

Picking it up, I held it in my hands. It was simple, but elegant. Sara didn’t seem like the type of woman who liked to go way too over the top, so this ring was perfect.

I grabbed a small velvet box and placed it inside. I would propose to her tomorrow night. It was going to be everything she dreamed of. I was going to make sure she said yes.

Sara was in her bed after curfew. She couldn’t sleep. Negan hadn’t been back yet and she wondered if he was on his way or if he encountered some trouble. Maybe he was back, but decided to spend the night with one of his wives.

She sighed, turning to her side and gripping the pillow to her chest. What Negan didn’t know was that she also had a few talks with Lucille. She even admitted to the other woman that Negan was a very handsome man which made both women burst into a fit of laughter. Negan wasn’t perfect, but he was easy on the eyes.

Lucille knew that Sara had a crush on him, but she never denied it. Talking to him made her realize how truly lonely Sara was. She looked forward to the days where they would sit out at the bench and just talk.

With a heavy sigh, Sara forced herself to shut her eyes. She wished she could just fall asleep.

Suddenly, she heard the door open and a quiet grumbling. She looked over her shoulder to see Negan. Instantly, Sara stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was much taller than she was, so her bare feet lifted from the ground just slightly.

When she felt Negan’s arms wrap around her, she leaned into him. He was safe. He was alive. He was here.

Negan pulled away to look down at her, grinning to himself.

Sara narrowed her eyes, slapping his chest lightly. “What took you so long?”

“I wasn’t gone long.”

“It’s almost midnight, Negan.”

“Well, I’ve been back since curfew. I just needed some fucking rest. Also had a talk with Simon,” he said, removing his leather jacket.

“You’re sleeping in here tonight?” Sara asked.

“If you don’t mind.”

She smiled, lying back down on her bed and waiting for him to join her. Once he stripped from his pants and leather jacket, Negan climbed onto the tiny bed wearing his boxers and white t-shirt.

Sara was clad in shorts and a tank-top. She instantly snuggled to him once he wrapped his arms around her. She exhaled a content sigh and shut her eyes. She could finally fall asleep now that she knew Negan was okay.

“Good night, Sara.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

The next morning, Sara awoke on her side. Negan had his arm wrapped around her from behind. He was pressing himself against her and Sara could definitely feel the ‘morning wood’ that he was sporting.

She shut her eyes, squeezing her legs absently at the rush of desire that washed over her. Sara moved back against him, hearing his low groan before he turned to lie on his back. She glanced over her shoulder at him and allowed her eyes to deviate to the evident tent in his boxers.

She definitely needed to restrain herself.

“It’s just morning wood,” he mumbled, running a hand over his sleepy eyes.

Sara blushed, nodding. “I’m a nurse. I know.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with fucking anything, but okay.”

“I don’t know why I said that. Okay. I’m going to get ready for work.” She climbed off the bed and walked to her clothes. Negan lifted his head to watch her, his eyes deviating to her backside and her legs that were revealed due to the shortness of her shorts.

“Wait, can I ask you something?” Negan asked, swinging his legs over the bed and slipping his pants on with his white t-shirt.

“I’m not going to be a wife when you’ve got five others, Negan. We established that.”

“No, that’s not what I was going to fucking ask. Tonight… Have dinner with me?” Negan asked.

“Well, I have to make sure I have enough points, but sure, yeah.”

“I’ll have that taken care of. Just be back in your room by six tonight,” Negan replied, walking to the door with Lucille on his shoulder.

And just like that, he was out of her room.

Sara had to wonder what he was hiding under his sleeve, but she figured maybe he finally was going to talk to her about what was bothering him.

“Is everything fucking set, Simon?” Negan asked, overlooking the fences carefully.

“Yes. We’ve got the kitchen cooking spaghetti tonight, thanks to the people of Alexandria. Also, we cleared out the roof, so it should be clean. Are you going to tell me what you have planned?” Simon replied.

“Going to ask Sara to marry me,” he shrugged.

“Why are you going all out for another wife?”

“I knew her before this world turned to shit. I’m thinking of ridding the wives if she says yes,” Negan admitted.

“That’s a big step. You sure you want to do that?”

“I’m sure. Thanks for fixing the roof for me,” Negan said, walking away from the railing to head back inside.

Sara finished her shift at work and waved goodbye to Dr. Carson. It was constantly slow at the infirmary which was a good thing, but it made it for a boring day on her end.

Her stomach was growling by the time she made it back to her room. She glanced at the clock and noticed it was nearing six o’clock before she walked to her bathroom to quickly shower. Once she finished, Sara changed into her black pants and a white v-neck. It was warm out, so she wanted to be as comfortable as possible.

At six o’clock on the dot, Sara heard the quiet knocks on her door. She smiled and ran a hand through her damp locks before she opened the door to reveal Negan dressed in his grey pants, white t-shirt, leather jacket and red scarf. His hair was slicked back and she smiled.

This almost seemed like a date.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey. Ready for some fucking dinner?”

Sara nodded, “I’m starving.”

Negan led her out of her room and towards the flight of stairs. Instead of descending it to the cafeteria, Negan let her walk up the stairs. The look of confusion on her face made him chuckle before they approached the door to the roof. Slowly, he pushed it open and grinned to himself.

He was definitely going to reward Simon for the set-up.

Sara arched a brow, glancing around. There was a large blanket sitting on the floor with a few pillows and their plates of food. She looked over at him and tilted her head.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“We’re having fucking dinner,” Negan grinned, leading her to sit at the blanket.

Sara smiled to herself, removing her boots to get comfortable. She brought the plate to her lap and grinned.

“It’s spaghetti…”

“It sure is. Dig in, doll.”

Negan and Sara ate in silence. She looked out at the view and smiled to herself. The sun was just about to set and it reminded her of the beauty in this new world of theirs.

When she finished her dinner, she set her plate down and looked over at Negan. Hesitantly, Sara leaned against him. She felt his arm wrap around her as he looked out in the distance.

“You did tell me you liked watching the sunset once,” he said.

“I did. You were listening to that? What a shocker,” she teased.

Negan narrowed his eyes, “You think you’re just so fucking funny, huh?”

“Yup. I think I’m hilarious,” she laughed.

“Did I ever thank you? You know, about taking care of Lucille? I don’t think she would have gotten through it as long as she did if not for you, Sara.”

“I was just doing my job,” she replied.

“You made her laugh. I can still hear it to this fucking day. I used to think it was haunting me, but now I’m beginning to embrace it. I miss her so fucking much, but seeing you… It just gave me a piece of the old world,” Negan added.

“We had nice talks. It managed to take your mind off the sessions that Lucille went through and it surely prevented you from causing mayhem in the hospital.”

“I can never thank you enough for doing that. I knew you had other fucking patients to tend to during that hour, but you made it your priority to keep me occupied. It means a lot to me, Sara.”

Sara looked over at him and smiled, looking into his eyes. “I’d do it over again in an instant.”

Negan nodded, shifting the velvet box in his leather jacket before he noticed Sara standing up. He watched her move to the edge of the roof to look at the sunset. He knew he had to do this. It was like dejavu with his own proposal for Lucille, but this was different.

He was going to do things right this time around.

Suddenly, Negan shifted to kneel on one knee. He grabbed the velvet box from his pocket and opened it, revealing it to her. Now, all he had to do was wait for her to turn around.

“Sara…”

“Negan, this is so pretty. Do you mind if I come here every once in a while?” She asked, keeping her back to him.

“Sure, but hey… Turn around.”

“Hold on…”

“Sara, fuck, turn around.”

Slowly, Sara turned around. She widened her eyes at the ring and also at the position that Negan was in. She never thought she would see a man like him kneel.

“Negan…”

“I know this is important to you. I know things are fucking different now that the world ended, but I believe that you coming back into my life was some sort of destiny. I’ll get rid of the wives just as long as you say yes. I fucking look at you and I see the life I used to have. There’s a piece of me that you gave back to me, Sara…”

She didn’t expect him to ask her to marry him, but she knew how he felt because she had felt it too. Seeing Negan gave her a piece of her old self back and she wanted to feel more of that.

“Negan…” She repeated.

“Marry me. I may not love you now, but I can fucking guarantee you that I’m well on my fucking way,” he added.

Sara cleared her throat. His proposal seemed so real now that he was kneeling with a ring in front of him.

“Seeing you was like a breath of fresh air. I knew I would be safe…” Sara replied. “Yes, Negan… I’ll marry you.”

He grinned, taking the ring from the velvet box and slowly slid it on her finger. When it was a perfect fit, Negan grinned and stood up to wrap his arms around her waist.

“We’re married,” he said.

“Engaged, but in this world, yes, we’re married.”

“Smartass,” Negan smiled, cupping her cheek. He always wanted to know what her lips felt like.

“If you don’t kiss me now, I may just have to give you your ring back,” Sara teased.

Negan grinned, leaning down to capture her lips. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. Her arms wrapped around her neck, standing on her toes to slowly move their lips against one another.

Negan slowly set her onto the blanket, settling himself between her legs. He knew he made the right decision on proposing to her. Tomorrow, he would have to kick his wives out and move Sara into his bedroom.

He had so much to do, but right now, he wanted to know what it felt like to be inside Sara.

His lips moved to her jawline, his beard scraping against her soft skin. She shut her eyes, running a hand through his hair to slightly dishevel it in the process. Negan’s hands slowly lifted her v-neck over her head, setting it aside as he looked her over. He removed his red scarf and leather jacket, staring down at her with an animalistic grin.

She squeezed her legs. Sara thought back to the way he felt against her this morning. She wanted more.

Negan’s hands moved down her abdomen to the button and zipper at her jeans, slowly pulling them down. His thumb grazed the fabric of her panties before he slid her jeans from her legs. She was clad in a matching pair of a white bra and white panties.

“Oh, you’re going to be wearing much more fucking nice undergarments, Sara,” he smirked, pressing his hips against hers to feel his growing erection.

Sara gasped, tossing her head back as she slowly rolled her hips to create friction. She was sure that she was soaked and when Negan slid a hand into her panties, it caused her to moan quietly.

“You are fucking wet,” he growled.

Sara grabbed his hands and slowly pushed it away. She leaned up on her elbows and ran her lips along his jawline down to his neck before she tugged away at his scarf. Slowly, she brought a hand to pull his white t-shirt over his head.

Sara took notice of his tattoos and the chest hair that was tinged with grey. She grinned, leaning over to nip at his collarbone and down to the middle of his chest. She pulled back and motioned to his pants.

“Can you get those off?” She asked.

“Are you going to use your manners and say please?”

“Now?” Sara grinned.

“I guess I’ll just have to teach you how to be a good girl,” he grunted, pushing his pants down with his boxers.

Sara widened her eyes at his length. She was not expecting him to be this well-endowed. She reached behind herself to remove her bra, setting it aside.

Negan smirked, his hands coming to cover both her breasts. He slowly began to massage it into the pit of his palm, watching as her back arched into his touch. He felt the tip of his member brush against her clothed sex, reminding him that her panties were still on.

Sara must have been thinking the same thing because instead of making Negan stop his massaging at her breasts, she brought her own hands to remove her own panties.

She couldn’t believe that she was lying naked underneath Negan. The head of his manhood kept brushing against her wet opening, throbbing with the need to be inside of her warm, tight walls.

“Negan, I need you,” she pleaded.

“How fucking bad?”

“Negan, please…”

He smirked, removing his hands from her breasts to grasp onto himself. Negan looked down at her, resting his free hand near her head on the blanket. With the hand that was holding his member, he slowly pushed into her.

Sara gasped at the intrusion, moving her hands to his shoulders as she slightly dug her nails into his skin at the pain. She felt him push further into her tight heat, causing her eyes to roll back into her head.

Negan rested both hands on the floor, pushing the rest of the way with a snap of his hips. Sara moaned, her back arching off the ground.

“Negan!”

He remained still, allowing himself to get used to her tight heat. She felt amazing and he was sure that he was going to want more.

Slowly, Negan began to move his hips. He pulled back to his tip and slammed back into her all the way. Her walls stroked his member in a tight vice and he had to remind himself that if he didn’t slow down and take his time, this was going to be over soon.

Negan wrapped an arm around her waist and rolled over onto his back. Sara gasped, pressing her hands onto his chest immediately at the feeling of being so full of him. Slowly, she moved her hips forward and backwards, reveling in the grinding of her hips.

Negan brought a hand to her chest, grasping her breast into his large hand. He let his thumb brush against her nipple as he grunted at her slow movements.

He shifted his hips upwards, forcing himself further into her depths.

Sara grunted, grasping his hands and pressing them above his head. She smiled to herself, moaning quietly as she began to bounce along his length. The sound of their skin slapping against one another echoed off into the open distance.

The sun had already set and the sky was slowly becoming the dark. The stars were beginning to shine bright in the night sky and she smiled, lacing their fingers together.

Negan groaned at the feel of her moving along him. She continued to bounce along him, his eyes deviating to her breasts that moved with her. He tightened his grip on her hands and slowly rolled them over, slamming into her to keep her still.

Negan looked into her eyes and smirked, keeping their hands above her head now. He pressed his chest against her own and slammed into her repeatedly, burying his face against her neck.

Sara moaned loudly every time their hips met with one another. She never thought a man could be as deep in her as Negan was. It felt amazing and she needed more. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she allowed him to push further into her.

Negan’s hands release her own, moving to grasp her hips as he thrusted into her repeatedly. His movements were becoming sloppy and Sara knew that he was close, just as she was. She felt his thumb move down to her clit, rubbing it quickly in time with his fast thrusts.

Sara moaned aloud, tossing her head back as the rush of her climax caused her entire body to shake with sheer pleasure. Her toes curled at the sensation, keeping her legs tight around his waist.

“Negan… Fuck…”

Negan groaned. He didn’t think that her walls would get tighter than it was, but once she reached her climax, it tightened around his member. With just a few more strokes, he felt himself began to release before he pulled out and allowed himself to come all over her lower abdomen.

They both were sweating at the temple and Negan reached over for a napkin to wipe away the release at her abdomen. He looked into her eyes and leaned down to peck her lips lazily.

Sara smiled, curling against his side once he lied next to her. He draped the large blanket over them as they stared up at the starry sky.

“I’ll do my damn best to fucking keep you safe, Sara,” Negan said.

“I know you will,” she replied, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“We can get to planning the wedding when we let everyone know what’s happening.”

“I’m in no rush. The proposal was amazing enough,” she smiled.

“And the ring?” Negan asked.

“It’s beautiful,” she looked down at the ring and grinned.

Sara got her wish after all.