#he walking deadnegantwdnegan fanfiction

[redwine-house]

Golden Years Ch.17 (Negan x Reader)

Summary: The council meets to decide the best course of action after the satellite station attack. 

(Ao3) (Wattdpad)

(Masterlist)

Words: 1,842

Dwight had been unusually quiet throughout the meeting, opting to stare listlessly at the tabletop. When he finally did speak, he was hesitant.

“I think…I might know who is behind this.”

Negan smiled. “Dwighty, boy! Are you going to save the day and sail us out of this shit storm?”

Dwight tapped his fingers against the wood, only sparing Negan a fleeting glance. “When I left with Sherry and Tina, we ran into some guy. He said he was part of a community that still lived like people used to.”

Negan leaned back and stroked his chin. “Did you tell him about us?”

“Yes.”

“I’m assuming that it wasn’t a raving review. Did you give us a big old, splatty tomato?” Negan spread his fingers out and blew a raspberry.

It was jarringly obvious Dwight was uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat. “It was an obvious mistake.”

Negan was smiling. “Yeah, I’m sure it was,” he said quietly, his voice velvet. Negan leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “So, you kidnap a guy, which would obviously piss anyone off.” He turned to the rest of you and held out his hands in an, ‘am I right?’ shrug. “Then you trash talk us. Well, I believe we have our prime suspect and Dwight, I think you being a little bitch might have actually helped us. Did he say where they were?”

“No.”

Negan’s words from before rang in your head. “The Emperor's New Clothes,” you said. You were met with a confused glare from every council member except Negan, whose smile only widened.

“It’s a book about an emperor who is tricked into thinking he's wearing a cloak that turns invisible when worn by someone who’s unfit for their job, but the guy's actually just naked and his subjects are too afraid to say that he's actually strutting around with his schlong out. The point is that you shouldn’t let pride keep you from admitting the fucking truth,” Negan explained without taking his eyes off you. “I believe it’s being suggested that the key to our problem is Gregory after all.” He stared out into space dreamily. “Hot damn.”

“What about Ezekiel?” Regina asked. “The man is practically senile.”

Negan raised an eyebrow. “While he might be a total nut bag, the guy knows how to lead his people.  He’s also not stupid enough to pull such a stunt. Plus, he would have gone himself. Only a coward hires outside help to do his dirty work.” Negan sighed. “This has creepy grandpa written all over it.” He turned to Simon. “Go to the Hilltop and put the fear of God in him. He’ll squeal faster than a well-paid whore. Kill someone if you have to. Set an example.”

“All right, then.” Simon gave a firm nod and a slick grin.

With the meeting adjourned, you pushed yourself away from the table and stood up. You had been in the wastelands for two days and you were dirty and exhausted. A shower and a long nap sounded absolutely heavenly to you and you weren’t going to wait another second to relax.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” An arm hooked around your waist and you were yanked backwards. Suddenly you were off your feet and sitting on the edge of the table. Negan stood between your legs, looking like the king of mischief.

“What are you up to?” you asked suspiciously.

“Just being a goddamn horndog,” he admitted with a pump of the eyebrows and an up-to-no-good grin. He pulled you forward and your bodies meshed together. Smashing Lucille behind you, Negan had trapped you in place. “I’m on the hook with a girl I work with and I have to just suck it up until everyone else hauls ass? I mean, shit.” Weaving his fingers into your hair, he kissed you languidly.

Whatever your reservations were, they flew out of the window as you cupped Negan’s face and pulled him closer, making him hum. Slowly, you leaned a few inches back. The leader of the Saviors needed no encouragement, and you immediately felt his weight as he followed you.

“You really don’t seem that choked up,” you observed between kisses.

“There’s nothing that kills a boner like a big ol’ dose of murder. I’m trying to put it in the back of my mind,” he explained, lifting your chin and lightly biting the soft underside of your jaw.

Things were getting hot and heavy at an almost alarming rate. With a quiet noise of protest, you placed your hands on his chest and gently pushed him back. Negan immediately retreated, as he always did, and you questioned every bad thing you had ever been told about him, as youalways did.  

Swallowing, you closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his. “Do you really think killing someone is the best way to set an example?”

Negan answered with a dismissive laugh. “Were you not using your listening ears back there? I want that geezer to need a new pair of undies every time I cross his mind. I want him to beg me to kiss my ass.”

“‘It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both,’” you recited the Italian political theorist’s words.

“Fuck.” Negan appeared to be two steps from devouring you.

“It’s not my place to tell you how to run your empire, but as someone who shares a common interest in knowledge-” you stopped, afraid that you were over stepping your boundaries.

Negan opened his arms. “Well, don’t leave me hanging!”

You set your hands firmly on Negan’s shoulders, an action that made his mouth turn into an over exaggerated pout. “Being feared is Machiavellian, but he warned that you must never be so to the point of hatred. Fear should never be excessive because it will become a danger to the Saviors and most of all, a danger to you. You need to be respected, but contempt will be your downfall.”

Negan’s eyes zoomed around your face as his ever present smirk played on his lips. He stood relaxed as he gazed down at you, sizing you up. The silence was deafening.

“You get to sit here,” he finally declared, whacking Lucille against Gavin’s spot at the table.

You waved your hands. “No, no, I can’t-”

Negan leaned forward, the pleasant look still on his face. “Try not to talk back to me. It’s really rude and I so hate it.” He placed a lingering kiss to your forehead that was just as soft as his voice.

Deflating, you sighed in defeat and leaned into the affection. “Sorry.” It was easy to forget that Negan was your boss and the leader of your people while you were necking.

“Oh, you think I’m going to be mad at my girl for being worried about me?” He pulled away. “I’m going to the satellite outpost and assess the damage. I’ll be back…whenever.” He flicked his wrist and disappeared out the door.

You immediately went after him. “Negan!” you called, for he was already at the end of the hallway.

Negan turned, looking annoyingly aloof as he casually swung Lucille back and forth. Finally, he smiled. “Can I help you?”

“Do you think it’s wise to go back to a place where our men were just slaughtered? They could still be there, waiting for you. This whole thing could be a trap.” God, you could smack that shit eating grin off his face.

Negan wiggled his fingers. “Look at you, chasing me down and nipping at my heels like a lovesick puppy!” He tapped his temple. “I’m starting to think that your daddy didn’t stick it to your momma and that you’re actually made out of sugar and spice, and everything nice.” Without another word, he slinked around the corner and out of sight.

Although you were gravely concerned about Negan, a part of you was thankful that he had blown off your worries. Now you had time to take a shower and go to bed.

Opening the door to your room was much more exciting than it should have been and you felt your muscles already begin to relax as you stepped inside. Unfortunately, your celebration was short lived when you noticed the woman perched on your bed.

“Who the fuck are you?” you demanded.

The woman turned to you, her brown hair bouncing on her shoulders. “Your rational side,” she answered frankly. She stood up and quickly crossed the room, her stilettos aggressively tapping on the floor with every stride. The shoes made her hips swing and it was abundantly clear that she absolutely hated it. “Dwight told me everything you said today and all of the girls know about you, and we all collectively agree that you’re an absolute lunatic.”

Realization hit you like a bucket of cold water. “You’re one of his wives.”

“Yeah, and it’s a daily struggle not to put a gun in my mouth,” the woman said viciously, her beautiful doe eyes aflame. “The only thing that keeps me going is the few seconds I can get with my real husband, and I want to see that sociopath’s brains on the floor.”

It was the threat that brought you out of your stupor. “I am the last person you want to divulge these threats to-?”

“Sherry,” she offered curtly.  She crossed her arms. “What has he done to you?” She was staring at you, desperately trying to understand how you could be so protective of a vicious maniac.

You were quiet as you pondered her question. “Negan likes what I despise about myself.”

Sherry placed a hand on her chest and laughed. If it wasn’t so bitter, it would have been pretty. “That’s just a ploy to get into your pants.”

You shook your head, stubborn as a mule and growing increasingly frustrated. “He certainly doesn’t sound like the type of person who would jump through all those hoops when he could just impose himself.”

Sherry closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she were trying to find the strength not to literally slap some sense into you. Like you had done to Negan earlier, she placed her hands on your shoulders. “You need to understand that Negan thinks that he is a good man. He will jump through hoops, connect the dots in the most ridiculous way, to justify his actions so that he is morally right. We’re called the Saviors because he truly thinks he’s saving people. He thinks he’s helping the Hilltop. He thinks I want to be stuffed in this tight dress and sleep with him at whatever hour he chooses.”

She might as well have slapped you in the face. You could only look away, unable to maintain eye contact. You didn’t say a word.

Sensing that she was chasing windmills, Sherry reached for your door. As her fingertips brushed the doorknob, she paused. “You have the power to end this. He’s weary of all of us. Negan likes to pretend that we all want to be with him, but deep down he knows that he’s playing a game of manipulation and coercion. But you…he trusts you. Slipping him something would almost be too easy.” And she was gone.

Your mind went back to The Emperor's New Clothes and the fool's obscene dedication to his convictions.

Pride always came before the fall.

[redwine-house]

Golden Years Ch.16 (Negan x Reader)

Sympathy for the Devil

Summary: You explore the infancy of your relationship with Negan as your drug operation takes off. Life is good until the satellite outpost is attacked. 

(Ao3) (Wattdpad)

(Masterlist)

Words: 1,945

As a recovering drug addict, it was obscenely ridiculous for you to be driving down an empty road with a few grams of heroin left in your bag, just itching to be shot into your bloodstream. However, this was the end of the world and you had to fight for every scrap of food and every sip of water that kept you alive. The old rules were a thing of the past and you had to do anything that kept yourself breathing.

You and Dwight had been sent out on the first heroin run and had been on the road for two days. Already the flatbed of your pickup truck was filled with canned goods, water, and even weapons. People had given up protection for drugs. Not a single bullet or drop of blood had come from either of you, and you were just under 20 miles from the Sanctuary, which meant that you were within radio distance.

Dwight picked up the two way radio, making sure to keep one hand on the wheel. “We’re about out. I think we’re going to head back and see if we can push the rest on our way.” There was a beep as he let go of the button. The response was almost immediate.

“See, I knew you two would kick ass!” Negan’s voice was static-y as he shouted into the speaker. “Come on back and we can talk shop. Now how much are we hauling?”

You took the radio from Dwight. “You’re gonna need a bigger truck.”

There was more static as Negan laughed. “Now you’re just whispering sweet nothings into my ear, sweet girl.”

Your cheeks dusted a light pink as you felt Dwight’s eyes briefly fall on you, and you were acutely aware of their scorn. It had been four days since you had first kissed Negan and it had been far from a one-time occurrence. The sudden outburst of emotion had spurred a romance between you and your fearless leader and it was both overwhelmingly exciting and bizarre. You quickly learned that Negan had invented PDA; he had absolutely no qualms with pouncing on you in the hallways. But for how tarnished his reputation was and how roaming his hands were, he never did anything without your permission.

You remembered your first day at the Sanctuary, when he showed you the rapist who had been condemned to the walkers’ yard and how disgusted Negan had been. It was confusing, how someone could be so adamantly against something while coercing five women to marry him.

You had decided to focus on his soft touches.

The part that had truly shocked you was the reaction of your peers. Suddenly there was an air of fear around you. Conversations would hush when you walked into a room and eyes were adverted when your gaze shifted.  Evidently, being the object of Negan’s affection put you in a place of authority. If anything happened to you, Negan would be furious, and no one wanted to step on your toes.

But what had changed the most was Dwight’s attitude towards you.

You slammed the radio onto your thigh. “Okay. What is your problem?”

Dwight looked back at the road. “Nothing,” he muttered.

You barked. “No. You have been glaring at me like I pissed in your cereal. Either knock it off or tell me.”

The Savior’s grip on the wheel tightened. “He’s a monster.” Dwight’s voice was dark.

One of your hands clenched into a fist. “You don’t know him.”

With a screech, Dwight stomped on the break, sending you flying against your seatbelt. He turned to you and you immediately shrank. There was a fire in the man’s eyes that you had never seen before. “I don’t know him? You’ve only been here a few months and you think you know Negan? That man is the devil.”

A need to protect your more-than-friend was overwhelming and Dwight’s words made you grind your teeth. “Why, because he kills people?  Just because he’s more…flamboyant about it-”

“He likes it.”

At that, you had no justification.

“He took my wife.”

It was as if the breath had been taken out of you. “What?” The truck continued to hum idly as Dwight gathered the strength to talk.

His words started off slow. “My wife's sister, Tina…she was diabetic. Obviously her insulin was hard to come by and it cost a lot of points. She ran out and Negan gave the option of marriage. We decided that running away would be a better option.”

You blinked. “That’s why he burned you.”

“I’d be dead if my wife hadn’t offered to marry him in Tina’s place.”

You turned and looked out the window. “Let’s go home.”

“So you’re just going to sweep this under the rug?”  Dwight’s voice had raised in volume and ferocity.

“Drive!”

You fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Negan and several cronies were outside waiting for your return. It took everything in you not to jump out of the truck like a bat out of hell, but you were able to maintain your composer and slid out onto the tarmac.

“Well, tickle my pickle!” Negan boomed as he crossed the yard. “That is one serious haul!” He leaned over to examine the goods and looked to you. He sent you a charming smile. “Did you find it?”

Dwight and his accusations melted away at Negan’s toothy grin. You sent one back. “Yes, I did.” You stepped onto one of the back tires and began to rummage through the supplies. You felt a pair of hands take a firm hold of your waist. Negan didn’t want you to fall.

It took you a minute to find what you were looking for, so you felt triumphant when your fingers finally wrapped around a jar of apple butter. “I got it!” You hopped down and handed over the jar. “I doubt it’s good.”

Securing Lucille under his armpit, Negan unscrewed the top and smelled the jam. With a gag, he closed it. “It smells like ballsack.”

You held your hands up. “I told you. I don’t know why you want it so badly. It’s a perishable. I’ll keep looking for it, but I doubt I’ll find something that’s edible.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you to his chest. “Because I’m a Virginia boy. I’d blow Dwight here for some soft serve from Carl’s Ice Cream.”

If Dwight heard Negan, he ignored him as he continued to unload the truck.

Negan pressed a kiss to the burned area of your face. Although you couldn’t feel it, your heart fluttered. “How can you stand it?” you questioned.

“You’re like a goddamn toasted marshmallow.” He lifted your chin, looking sly. “Everyone who’s old enough to jackoff knows those are the best kind.”

You pressed your fingers to his lips. “How many women have you kissed today?”

At this, Negan’s eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth quirked upward. He looked impressed by your awareness of the situation. “None as pretty as you.” When you still looked unimpressed, he huffed. “Or smart? Jesus.”

“Smooth.” You smiled smally before touching your lips to his. Early on you had decided that Negan had to work for affection. Sure, you could accept the whole package, but you weren’t going to easily be like one of his wives - just another woman, an option he could choose like an outfit off a coatrack.

You slid your arms underneath his jacket and wrapped them around his chest. He was warm from the sun and heavy material. Somehow Negan always managed to smell good and it only made you pull him closer.

Negan sighed into your mouth. “Shit. No one’s kissed me like this in years.” He squeezed your hips.

“You mean I’m doing it on my own free will?”

Negan’s eyebrows shot up as he held you back. “Excuse me?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you desperately racked your brain for a cover. You ran your fingers through his hair, touching the hint of grey. “I just mean that a lot of women aren’t always so confident in their decisions.” You waited anxiously as Negan analyzed you, clearly still suspicious. If he didn’t believe you, he didn’t give any indication.

He ran his knuckles down your cheek. “Calm down, sweetheart.”

“Negan!”

You all turned at the sound of Simon’s roar. With a screech Simon pulled through the gate and jumped out of the van just seconds after it stopped moving. Slamming the driver’s side door shut, he stormed over to you.

Although Negan stepped away, he kept a hand on the small on your back. “What’s going on?”

“My men are gone!” Simon’s face was beet red as he shouted. “They’re dead! Every single one at the satellite outpost!” He formed his hand into a gun and touched it to his temple. “Fucking shot in their sleep!”

You heard the leather of Negan’s glove squeak as his grip on Lucille tightened, but it was the only thing that gave away his fury. “Get Gavin and Regina and go to the conference room. We’ll talk in ten minutes and if you get there after me, you’re late.” He looked at Dwight. "Dwight, follow Simon."

As Simon rushed off, you spoke. “Who would have the guts to make a move like that?” You were truly stunned and from the looks of things, so was Negan. “Certainly not Gregory.”

Negan ran a hand down his face. “Guy’s busy diddling kids or running around in some clothes that make him invisible.”

As stressful as the situation was, you couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on your face. “Hans Christian Anderson.” For a moment you had forgotten just how well-read Negan was and your attraction for him surged. Placing a gentle hand on his cheek, you left a soft kiss to his jawbone.

He pulled you to his side. “You’re coming. It’s a real dick disco in there and sometimes I think it becomes more about who is right than an open discourse about the most effective action.”

“Do you think they’ll be apprehensive?”

Negan snorted. “Perhaps you haven’t seen how things work around here…” he let his sentence trail off as the snarls of the walkers wafted into the air. Stepping aside, he opened the door to the Sanctuary for you. “They won’t even look at you wrong, now that they know we suck face.” He followed you inside, triumphant by your obvious embarrassment.

As you expected, the entire council was present and accounted for and as Negan said, none of the members batted an eyelash at your presence. Silently taking the furthest seat from Negan, you waited patiently for him to settle at the head of the table. Rather than sit, Negan placed Lucille on the table and gripped its edge with both hands. For a few seconds he stood there with his head bowed.

“I can’t think of an easy way to say this, so I’m just going to spit it out.” Negan looked up, making sure to catch the eye of each Savior. “Simon has informed me that someone has mercilessly taken the lives of some of our own.”

Regina was the first to speak. She jerked forward and slapped her palm on the table in fury. “Who?”

Negan sighed and shook his head. “We don’t know. But whoever it was, they’re cowards. Everyone was slaughtered in their sleep. They couldn’t even face us like men!” His shout echoed off the walls. “Now, we’re here to figure out who these people are and how we’re going to make them pay.”

“Well, how we’re going to deal with them isn’t really a debate, is it?” Simon asked. He leaned forward. “They murdered my men! So we kill every last one of these pricks!”

“You know that’s not how we do things here, Simon,” Negan said firmly.

You shifted in your seat. “These people killed a whole outpost of Saviors without detection. We could use them.”

Negan smiled. “That’s my girl!” He looked at Simon. “We make these pricks piss their pants. When they go to sleep, I want them to see this handsome face in their nightmares. When people are scared, they do what you want. It’s basic Machiavellian politics.”

You covered your mouth and looked at your lap, trying to hide your blatant admiration. Whether your comrades knew about Machiavelli and The Prince, you didn’t know, but Negan certainly did.

Simon sucked at his teeth, clearly biting back words. “I’m just…concerned.” Simon’s words were slow and well thought out. He knew he was dancing with the devil by questioning Negan’s judgment so blatantly. “This was a pretty fearless move.”

Negan grinned. “Oh, Simon,” Negan said softly, “everyone’s afraid of something.”

Let me know if you want to be tagged. I haven’t thought of it until now because this isn’t my primary posting website.

[redwine-house]

Golden Years Ch.15 (Negan x Reader)

In Walked Luck

A high tension situation tips your relationship with Negan over the edge and the damn finally breaks.

(Ao3) (Wattdpad)

(Masterlist)

Words: 2,293

Smoke hung heavy in the air and raucous laughter reverberated off the walls. Negan poured himself another splash of Pasión Azteca tequila and popped a fresh cigar in his mouth. He couldn’t help but think of you as the $3.5 million drink swirled in his glass. You had shown up at his doorstep, sopping wet with Simon ready to blow your brains out with a multi-million dollar bottle of liquor and a lucrative business opportunity. You were really something else.

You also had a really rocking ass, but that was tragically off limits.

Simon threw his cards down. “Son of a bitch! I fold.”

“Me too,” Gavin sighed.

With a heavy sigh, Negan tapped the edge of his cards against the table before he grinned. He revealed his hand.

Simon bolted upward, knocking over his glass as he stormed to the other side of the room. Negan only laughed harder as he gathered his winnings, pushing aside his pair of 7s. “Pull at your hair any harder Simon and you’ll go bald.”

Simon only shook his head and waved Negan’s words away, too frustrated to speak.

Negan winced. “Well, I’m starting to feel like a real asshole because I am really cleaning you two out.” He looked over his shoulder. “Frankie, come here, sweetie.” His voice dripped with charm as he reached out a hand. The lithe red head rose from her seat, her high heels clicking on the ground as she crossed the room. She kept her eyes downcast and took Negan’s outstretched hand. He brought her onto his lap. “Would you be okay with giving one of these guys a good old smooch if they win the next hand?”

Before she could say no, there was a knock at the door.

“Well, go get it!” Negan demanded, causing the men to jump to their feet. Gavin was the first to reach the door. “Well, look at you.” Negan smiled as a pretty young woman stepped into the room. He gently nudged Frankie away. “What on God’s green earth can I do for you?”

The woman didn’t answer right away. She stared silently at Negan’s feet with one arm across her chest. “I’m Aaron’s girlfriend,” she finally murmured.

Negan took a step forward. “I can’t really hear you, sweetheart. Did you say Aaron?”

Simon spoke up. “I think she’s talking about that pissant you ironed a couple months ago.”

Negan’s eyebrows rose. “Oh! Well, isn’t that unfortunate for you.” When the girl didn’t reply, his eyes landed on her hand. “Shit!” he swore just as the girl reached for a small revolver.

Before the girl could raise her hand, there was a gunshot. Amber screamed in horror as the girl fell to the ground. Blood quickly began to pool around her hair, soaking into the carpet.

Negan’s neck flushed with rage. “Oh, hell no!” he shouted, raising Lucille over his head and crashing it down onto the girl’s skull. “You come into my house and try to kill me?” Each hit was harder and more brutal than the next, causing Amber to cry. Hunks of bone flew through the air and brain matter splattered the walls as Negan bashed in the head of his would be assassin. The ceiling soon became a sick version of a Jackson Pollock painting. Finally, his face speckled with blood and the girl’s head nothing but soup, he stood back. He looked to Simon, who was watching him emotionlessly. “Remind me to blow you later.”

His second in command simply nodded.

You were sitting on the floor reading when you were told the news.

“Come in,” you said absentmindedly when there was a knock on your door. Looking up, your book fell limply from your hands.

“You should see the other guy,” Negan drawled, leaning against the doorway.

You wordlessly got to your feet and took him by the wrist.

“Whoa, there. Do you need to see a man about a horse, because you’re looking at me really weird.” Negan let you gently pull him into your room. Closing the door, you turned around and got a good look at him.

There were splatters of blood and clumps of God knows what all over his shirt and jacket. Streaks of red even stained his face and hair. You covered your mouth with your hands as every muscle in your body went rigid. It had happened again. You should have been there. You should have helped him.

“Holy shit, it’s not mine,” Negan explained as you refused to speak. “Simon capped her before she could take her shot.”

You stepped forward and buried yourself in his chest, not caring about the blood or how much Negan was going to berate you for your physical affection. Instead, you focused on the beat of his heart.

“Again, do I or do I not grab your ass?” he taunted as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Shut up,” you snapped, pulling away slightly so you could wipe the blood from his face with your sleeve, only to be batted away.

“Hey, I didn’t come here to be coddled. You’re not my mom. I just thought you should know that the most important person in your life almost died.”

You nervously chewed your lip, acutely aware of how close you were. “Well, Sophia is technically Dorothy’s mom if we’re still going with the Golden Girls metaphor. “You heard Negan’s chuckle rumble in his chest and it made you smile. Your grin quickly turned into a gape when he buried his nose in your hair.

“Negan, are you in here?” A man with long hair hovered outside your door.

Negan looked over his shoulder. “Jared, I will cut off your prick and shove it down your throat if you don’t leave, and that’s if I can find it!”

Knowing that he was two seconds from losing any chance at having children, Jared high tailed it out of there.

It was ridiculous, how the threat of emasculation was what finally tore down your barrier and quelled your nerves. “Negan?”

“God, that guy needs to get a damn haircut. I swear, he is going to grow a pu-”

Looking up, you gently took his face in your hands. Negan was a good head taller than you, and you had to go on tip toe to touch your lips to his. If he was surprised he didn’t show it, for he had his arms around you and against the wall in the blink of an eye.

You felt a wave of helpless surge through your body as he held you. The ferocity in which he kissed you, nipped at your lip and raked his hands through your hair sucked the life out of you and left you limp. You gripped at his shirt, knotting the material with your fists as you attacked his neck, prompting a small groan from him. His stubble felt good on your skin and when you felt his lips on your pulse, you sighed.

He could have died. That was the thought that ran through your mind as you kissed your friend, and it only made you pull him closer.

Suddenly, Negan took you by the chin. His hazel eyes, which were usually alive and electric, were hooded and intense. “Don’t ever let another man touch you like this or I will kill him,” he whispered.

You only kissed him and you felt his smile. “I don’t want to see your wives.”

“Balls, you’ve known about that this whole time?” When you nodded, Negan leaned back and eyed you. “Man, you’re really cool.”

You pat his chest. “Well, don’t think I’m happy about it. I just…have to begrudgingly ‘accept the whole package.’”

Negan let out a sinful groan. “You are in a class of your own.” Grinning like a fiend, he took a long overdue, firm grip of your ass. “God bless America,” he breathed before descending into another aggressive lip lock.

You reluctantly pulled away. Picking a glob of guts off his shoulder, you smiled. “You should take a shower and do some laundry.”

“Are you shittin’ me? After four months of window shopping, you put up the closed sign the second I get the cash?”

You shrugged. “Stone cold bitch, right?”

Negan stepped out into the hallway, grabbing Lucille as he went. With a lopsided grin, he told you, “When I tug it, I promise I’ll think of you.”

“Same.” You closed the door on Negan’s dopey face.

“Holy shit,” he murmured.