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ibelongtonegan · 7 years

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Merry Christmas, Baby (Negan one-shot)

This story is pure Christmas fluff with a spoonful of feels and a pinch of angst. I wrote it on the spur of the moment and this is my way to wish everyone Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Summary: it‘s Christmas night at the Sanctuary and Negan recalls his last Christmas with his late wife, Lucille.

Characters: Negan x Lucille

Rating: SFW

Word count: 1,593

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of cancer, mentions of death, swearing

Tags: @negans-network, @jdms-network, @emoryhemsworth, @ridingmoxley, @ladysyn

Let me know if you would like to be added to my forever tag list!

I appreciate feedback and most days don’t bite. So don’t be shy, please feel free to comment, message or ask me anything!

“Negan, I can make dinner. I’m fine. A little weak, but fine.”

“No, baby, you just rest and I’ll do the cooking.”

Lucille huffed at his husband stubbornness. Ever since the diagnosis, he had been disturbingly careful and attentive. Tiptoeing around her every minute of the day, as he was afraid that she was going to break like glass if he didn’t handle her with kid gloves.

“Come on, baby, go back to bed and get some sleep,” Negan urged rubbing circles on her lower back.

“Fine,” Lucille pouted at him in defeat. “Still, if you need any help…”

“I can manage, baby. But if I burn the fucking kitchen down, you’ll be the first to know,” Negan replied with a playful smirk at the corner of his lips.

Lucille rolled her eyes at the remark and gave her husband a kiss on the temple before going upstairs. She changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants and lied down. After tossing and turning in bed for a good half an hour, she let out a frustrated sigh. Chemotherapy has messed up her sleep cycle completely.

The sweet scent of spices from the kitchen made her sit up on her elbows. It was surprising how strong she could feel it. Her sense of smell and taste has been different, fading mostly or occasionally disappearing even since she started receiving treatment. But the rich aroma of cinnamon, cloves, ginger, and nutmeg was so heavy that it made her mouth water.

Gingerbread.

It has always been her favorite cookie. Closing her eyes she could see the little figures – Christmas trees, gingerbread men, stars, snowflakes, candy canes – fresh out of the oven, waiting to be decorated with icing. Her stomach let out a loud growl, making her eyes snap open and a wide smile to appear on her lips. A plan was forming in her head and she was going to set it in motion right away.

She carefully got out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs. Her husband was standing with his back to the kitchen door wearing a red apron. He was stirring something on the stove while whistling a merry little tune under his breath to the song playing on the radio. The cookies were laid out on a cooling rack on the kitchen counter. Keeping her eyes on the back of his husband, Lucille carefully held out her hand and took a gingerbread Rudolph from the rack. It was still warm and its surface had not hardened yet. Slowly backing out of the kitchen before Negan could see her she made her way back up the stairs and jumped back into bed. She strained her ears for any noise but couldn’t hear anything.

After a few moments, she allowed herself to lie back on the pillows and indulge in the simple pleasure of the cookie, taking a small bite out of the reindeer’s antler to make it last longer. It immediately melted in her mouth and tasted just like she had imagined earlier, sweet like honey. After devouring her prize happily she licked her fingers clean and once again listened for any sound or movement coming from downstairs but heard nothing.

With her stomach and currently fully functional taste buds craving more, Lucille got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen again. The radio was playing a classic Christmas pop song from the 90s.

She slowly peeked in through the kitchen door but much to her surprise couldn’t see her husband anywhere. Thinking that he was probably in the pantry looking for ingredients for the gravy, she quickly grabbed another gingerbread from the cooling rack – this time in the shape of a baseball bat, Negan’s favorite - and made a beeline for the stairs before her husband could catch her.

Once she was back in the safety of the bedroom, she slipped back under the covers, glad that they still retained some of her body heat. She was just about to bite into the cookie when she felt a hand graze her left thigh under the duvet.

Screaming out loud in surprise Lucille tried to yank her body away but felt strong fingers close around her hip. Pulling the duvet down from his head Negan emerged lying on the other side of the bed with a devilish smirk playing on his lips.

“Got you, baby,” he husked his voice sending shivers down his wife’s spine. “You think I didn’t notice you stealing the first gingerbread already?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lucille deadpanned while trying to hide the cookie in the palm of her right hand.

“What are you hiding there, baby?” Negan inquired knowing the answer already.

“Nothing,” Lucille replied trying to keep her poker face on but failing as soon as Negan’s fingers went up from her hip to her stomach tickling her like crazy.

“You have been a very naughty girl, baby. Santa Negan can’t have that,” he growled hoarsely in her ear. His breath was warm on her skin.

Giggling and begging for him to stop Lucille tried to keep her hand still holding the gingerbread hidden from her husband, but lost eventually as he reached it and lifted it to his mouth unceremoniously biting the tip of the little baseball bat off.

She gave him a frown and took a bite out of it herself. They shared the rest of the cookie in comfortable silence until every morsel was gone.

“Hmmm…this is delicious, babe. You’re an awesome cook,” Lucille murmured licking her sticky lips.

“And you haven’t even tasted dinner yet,” Negan replied wiggling his brow.

“I know it’s going to be fantastic already,” she chuckled. “I’ve got something for you.” Lucille bent down to retrieve something from under the bed. Her husband eyed her movements curiously. “I know we are supposed to do this only after dinner but I can’t wait.” She held a long, sleek box in her hand and handed it to him.

Negan grinned happily at his present. He ripped off the shiny silver wrapping paper in one swift motion like an impatient child. Lucille watched him with a scolding smile.

Opening the package Negan took out the contents and realizing what it was, gave his wife a loving look.

“You always say that your neck is cold,” Lucille commented holding his gaze. “It’s made of the finest Egyptian cotton.”

It was a scarf in a deep shade of red, and soft as butter.

“I thought it would go well with your leather jacket,” Lucille added with a shrug.

Negan wrapped the scarf around his neck immediately, enjoying the velvety touch of the fabric on his skin.

“It’s perfect. I love it, thank you,” his voice cracked slightly with emotion. Leaning in, he cupped his wife’s cheek gently and kissed her deeply.

When they parted for a moment to catch their breath, Lucille whispered against his lips:

“Merry Christmas, Negan.”

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

Negan jolted awake from his reverie with a jerk. He was still in the same position on the couch where he sat down an hour ago upon returning to his room after dinner.

“Come in!” he gruffed in a tone that promised anything but a warm welcome.

Simon entered the room wearing a Santa hat with tiny red lights flashing around the white rim.

“Sorry to disturb, boss. We are having a little Christmas celebration in the rec room and thought maybe you wanted to join us for a drink.”

Negan offered him a weak smile but shook his head.

“Thanks, Simon, but I’m not in the mood for company tonight.”

Negan preferred to spend Christmas night alone. Just like he did every year since Lucille had passed. There was not a day going by that he didn’t remember her, but on Christmas, everything reminded him of her. He could taste her in the special meal served for dinner, smell her in the sugary aroma of cookies the kitchen staff baked for the workers and hear her in the merry Christmas song seeping in from the corridor.

“Sure, boss. Should you change your mind, you know where to find us,” Simon replied with a grin.

“It would be hard to miss with all that fucking noise,” Negan grumbled referring to the silly song somebody was belting out at the top of their lungs in a presumably highly liquored state, mixing up the lyrics.

Simon gave him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, boss. I felt like rewarding your Saviors with a bit of booze on this very special evening. I will tell them to keep it down.”

“It’s fine, Simon,” Negan replied with a whisk of his hand looking out the window. He was seemingly back to his own little world again.

Simon nodded and left the room, closing the door silently behind him.

Negan stood up and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He stepped to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked outside into the front yard of the Sanctuary. It had been snowing since early morning and the surroundings of the Sanctuary were covered in a thick, white blanket of snow. Even the walkers on the fence looked as someone had sifted sugar on them.

Swirling the ice cubes in the glass he lifted his other hand to his scarf, his thumb grazing the soft fabric tenderly.

He closed his eyes and found himself back in the comforts of their bed, Lucille’s arms around his neck. Looking into her eyes with affection he whispered in her ear.

“Merry Christmas, Baby.”

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noodlecupcakes · 7 years

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I Own You

Summary: For @noodlecupcakes 21st birthday here’s a little smutty piece featuring Possessive!Negan and her f!OC Roxy who looks like Amber Heard and is a general badass. This is set in a Mobster!AU where Roxy misbehaves a bit and Negan has to remind her who is boss and who wears the pants in their relationship…without either of them wearing pants.

Word Count: 6892

Warnings: Foul Language, Sexual Imagery and Language, Negan being Himself as Always, Outright Smut, Daddy Kink, Jealousy, Spanking, Knife-Play, slight Choking Kink, Hair Pulling, a gratuitous Ezekiel cameo

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday to you and America!

Author: @genevievedarcygranger

Tagging: just for those that I think would be interested @purplemuse89 @backseat-negan @ladylorelitany @ofdragonsanddreams16 @alyisdead @collette04 @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash

Today was going to be a damn good day, and a productive one at that. After so many years of gang wars, it was all about to end with Negan on top – just where he belonged. Negan and his crew, the Saviors of Staten Island, had brought New York City to its knees. Through hard work and a lot of illicit activities, he subjugated four rival gangs: the Alexandrians in Brooklyn, the Hilltop in Manhattan, the Scavengers on the New Jersey side, and Oceanside in Queens. All of them worked for him, and hell, he even had most of the cops on his paygrade. The only rival gang left was the Kingdom of the Bronx – and today their leader Ezekiel and a small entourage were coming here to form a partnership with Negan.

The formalities would take place in a private meeting where Negan planned on passing Ezekiel a contract demanding half of their shit. He’d muscle, threaten, persuade, however the fuck to get Ezekiel to sign it, and then afterwards there would be a swanky ass party. After that it would be smooth sailing for Negan running this city – easy peezy lemon fucking squeezy.

Life was good for Negan now, but it hadn’t always been this way. He used to live a simple life before, married to his first wife Lucille and running a restaurant that the Savior gang would frequent often. Back then the Saviors were petty punks and nothing much else. But then, Lucille got cancer, and Negan didn’t have the money to pay for her treatments. He joined the gang to pay, and it did pay – handsomely.

It didn’t matter, though, because she died anyway. Left with nothing else, Negan abandoned the restaurant and threw himself whole heartedly into the gang, getting reckless and taking risks because he wasn’t afraid to die. It was his fearlessness that helped him swiftly climb the ranks, and soon he became addicted to the money and the power and the status – and then he met the second greatest love of his life: Roxy. Roxy was a lot like him in a way, hungry for power and a lustful bitch for revenge. For a while they fucked around together, and it was with her help that Negan obliterated this gang called the Walkers. Once the Walkers were gone, Negan realized that he had fallen in love, and when he became the leader, the first thing he did was marry Roxy. Both she and his position as leader of the Saviors renewed Negan’s vigor for life. Negan and Roxy been together and rule together ever since for the past five years.

One of the first things they did after returning from their honeymoon was get to work, and soon the other rival gangs were falling like dominos. Negan was no fool, he knew that none of this would’ve happened without Roxy’s help planning. For that he owed her everything, and she owed the same debt to him. Life’s been good to him so far and everything between them was going swimmingly. Life was perfect…well, almost perfect.

As it was, Roxy was more than a little pissed at him currently. The other day one of the girls from the escort service they ran – some chesty girl named Ruby – had come onto him. Ruby had had her hand done his pants and wrapped around his dick before he could push her off, but not before Roxy could walk in and catch them. Roxy was furious, but rather than making a scene right then, she stormed out. Negan tossed Ruby out on her ass and had sent Simon to bring Roxy back, but she refused. Embarrassed, Negan gave Roxy her space, hoping that time would cool her off so he could explain himself.

He hadn’t seen her in nearly three days, too busy giving her time and organizing the party and agreement for Ezekiel. He was starting to miss her, and not just for the sex, but actually missed her. She was his wife and he loved her after all. Ruby meant nothing to him and he never intended to cheat. His wife was his everything and no other woman could compare. In fact, Roxy to Negan meant more than everything he worked so hard to achieve, and he’d give it all up for her. That was a dangerous attachment to have in this business, but Negan was confident that Roxy could handle herself and that Negan would never allow anything to happen to her anyway. She was his lady.

Negan was just doing one last brief scan of the contract he was going to sign with Ezekiel when there was a knock on his office door. Sitting back in his chair, Negan snatched off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, who the fuck is it?”

The door swung open silently on its hinges, and Dwight popped his head in, looking at Negan with his good eye. “Ezekiel is here. Should I send him up?”

Stowing away his glasses in his desk drawer, Negan impatiently answered, “Yes, yes, go ahead. Shit, he’s early isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but Fat Joey already has the food ready.”

“Thank fuck for Fat Joey’s appetite,” Negan breathed a sigh of relief, “Have Simon mix the drinks and keep an eye on everything for me Dwight.” He stood and pushed his chair back under his desk, moving the mirror on the wall to give himself a look over. After all, he had to look well put together for the ‘King’ Ezekiel. Before he dismissed Dwight, Negan cautiously asked, “Is Roxy here, D?”

Dwight didn’t even hesitate, “Yes, she’s the one who greeted Ezekiel at the door. She’s keeping him entertained right now.”

Negan nodded, glad for Roxy’s help, though he had a feeling that all wasn’t quite forgiven yet between them. He still had to apologize to her. “That’s fucking good. Well, D, send the fuckers up.” Pleased with everything so far, Negan pulled out his box of Cuban cigars. If Ezekiel signed the contract promptly, Negan might even share one with him.

Not soon after Dwight left, he came back with Ezekiel in tow. The king’s entourage would wait outside with Negan’s men. While Negan and the Saviors had a certain street style like a biker gang to identify themselves, Ezekiel and his crew wore a medieval crest of an eagle and had tiger stripes on their sleeves. Given the importance of the meeting – and the fact that they were the top men rather than the underlings – everyone was dressed to the nines today. No real reason to show their colors if they planned on working on a truce together.

For that reason, Negan was dressed in his nicest suit – sans tie – in black on black on black. It was a slimming color and it worked for him, given him a lean and mean but undeniably handsome appearance. Ezekiel was dressed nice as well in a three-piece brown suit, also without a tie. The top few buttons of his white shirt were undone, giving him a casual appearance, but it was the feathers in his hair that solidified his eccentric aesthetic. After both men sized each other up, Negan finally donned the role of a gracious host and greeted his guest, “Ezekiel, looking fucking sharp as hell. Find the house, okay?” He stuck out his left hand for a handshake.

Without missing a beat, Ezekiel took his hand, not choosing to comment on the fact that it was the wrong one to shake or that Negan didn’t use his self-appointed title as ‘King’ either. “Negan, your wife is charming, and your home is lovely. Of course, it was no trouble to find it. It’s the biggest in the neighborhood with Rottweilers and men on guard. One would even call it a fortress. But every man’s home is his castle, and a castle isn’t complete without a queen. Roxy is quite the queen.” Both men’s testosterone skyrocketed as they kept their grip firm in the handshake, still trying intimidate each other despite this being a peace accords of sorts. “Is that suit John Phillips?”

It took a tremendous amount of self-control on Negan’s part not to clench his jaw so hard as to crack a tooth when Ezekiel mentioned Roxy first thing. While most men might consider it a compliment to themselves to flaunt their wives like arm candy and jewelry, Negan had a possessive streak the size of Kansas. He’d nearly beat a man to death for even looking at his wife – but he did gut a prick for refusing to leave her alone at a bar. The body would never be found, but if it was, all the intestines would strangely be missing. Not Negan’s problem. Instead of immediately snapping at Ezekiel, Negan played nice and masked the tick in his jaw by smiling at the man. “Yup. Roxy is the love of my life, and home is whenever I’m with her. And fuck yeah, it’s John Phillips. I have two others, too.” Finally releasing his hold on Ezekiel, he moved away to his desk again, resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his pants. Casually, he passed the contract to Ezekiel. “So, I’d offer you a fucking drink, but that’s gonna come later after you sign this.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, hiding his fists.

Swathed with his own put-on airs, Ezekiel glanced over the contract once before he looked back up at Negan. “May I sit?”

“Shit, yeah, you can.” Negan withdrew one of his hands from his pockets and gestured to the armchair in front of his desk. Ezekiel bringing up Roxy had thrown Negan off his game, and it wouldn’t do for him to be distracted. Negan sat heavily on his desk, sitting back on his hands, attempt to effuse confidence. Really, he should have apologized to Roxy before this meeting with Ezekiel that way he could be sure that they didn’t make a scene. They had to give off the appearance of a rock-steady power couple, and Negan had to admit that when they weren’t united, accomplishing their private goals often meant impeding the other. This could be difficult.

Crossing his legs, Ezekiel took his time reading over the contract, and Negan let him, impatience simmering just below his deceptively calm surface, though not palpable yet. Finally, Ezekiel looked up at Negan, and Negan braced himself for negotiations. “You know, Negan, your wife Roxy really is quite the charmer.”

Nothing could have prepared Negan for that. Ezekiel’s casual remark was so singularly disarming that Negan truly was knocked off balance, not expecting a comment like that at all. Tamping down on his temper, Negan took ahold of what was left of his patience with both hands and charged forward, “Yes, my wife is a wonderful woman. She completes me.”

“Not only is she a beautiful woman,” Ezekiel blithely continued, seemingly unaware of Negan’s discomfort, “but I was under the impression that she was managing most of your business. I would even go on to say that I’ve heard she handles some of the unsavory business matters as well.” If Ezekiel knew he was treading into dangerous territory, he didn’t let on.

Still, Negan tried to warn him as much as he said a little too sternly, “If what you are implying is that my wife can’t handle such affairs, then you are sadly mistaken, Ezekiel. Zeke. Can I call you Zeke?”

Unsurprisingly, Ezekiel ignored the comment. “No, that’s not what I’m implying at all, Negan.” Ezekiel rolled his ankle is a slow clockwise motion, completely at ease and acting far too comfortable in Negan’s home for his liking. “I had never met Roxy before today. Of course, I had seen her face in news articles fairly regularly. Charity works, art museum opening, the police gala, tree-lighting ceremony around Christmas. She was always a pleasant, pretty face to see when the newspapers had more ghastly headliners.” He paused, and Negan forced himself to unclench his jaw again, the tendon muscle in his neck relaxing. “When she met me today it was with open arms and the reception was with such warmth that I realized something vital that newspapers unfortunately lacked.”

It took everything in Negan’s will power not to suck his teeth and darkly mutter, “Your name in the obituaries?” Instead Negan just tilted his head, feigning curiosity and simply asked Ezekiel, “Oh yeah? What?”

“Your wife’s beauty goes beyond a simple picture,” Ezekiel answered and then smiled so wide as if he told the funniest joke. Negan mirrored the smile, though not as wide, and it lacked his teeth, as he was afraid if she showed them it would be perceived as a snarl – not far from the truth actually. “Truly, Negan, you are a lucky man to have a woman whose beauty cannot be described in a thousand words or less like a picture does.”

Feigning humility now, Negan looked down at his shoes, picturing in his mind’s eye grinding his heel on Ezekiel’s face until the smile was destroyed. “Yeah, I don’t know what I would do without her, she’s been a tremendous help for the business and she’s a joy to have around.” Negan looked up and caught Ezekiel’s eye. “I love Roxy, would do anything for her. She’s my better half.”

It was like that was what Ezekiel had been waiting for all along. He gently tapped his palms on the arms of his chair as he exclaimed, “Yes, I agree whole-heartedly!” Much calmer, her stated plainly, “She is your better half.” Ezekiel held out the contract at arm’s length to Negan and dropped it, allowing it to float and flutter to the space of floor between them. “Clearly, you didn’t let her have a hand in this contract because the contract lacks sense. You couldn’t possibly expect me to sign that and half of my Kingdom over to you so easily.”

As Negan’s hazel eyes tracked the contract’s journey down to the ground, they shifted from ice to raging fire in an instant. When he looked back up at Ezekiel, he was outright glaring, and didn’t bother to hide any of his frustration now. “I don’t give a shit if you don’t think it’s fucking fair. Fair is whatever the fuck I say it is, and I say I want half your shit or we’re going to war, buddy. What the fuck is it gonna be?”

Nonplussed, Ezekiel coolly retorted, “What’s going to happen is this: you are going to summon your wife, and I’ll cut my deal with her. Clearly, she’s the more reasonable one between the two of you. The pretty face for the public, the muscle, and now, I see, she’s the brain behind this operation as well.”

“Oh, you want me to fucking summon my fucking wife?” Negan growled and pushed himself off the desk as he marched to the door. “You fucking asked for it, dumbfuck.” He jerked open the heavy door to his office and it slammed loudly against the wall causing everyone waiting outside to jump in their skin. It seems almost everyone was waiting on them with bated breath. Negan’s most trusted lieutenants were ambling about, keeping an eye on Ezekiel’s entourage. “Dwight!” Negan barked at the man, “Fetch me my fucking Lucille!” The door slammed closed and Negan whipped around to face Ezekiel, who had not moved from his chair. “You’re fucking in for it now you dipshit!”

Ezekiel didn’t even bother to turn around his chair to look at Negan as he addressed the man, “Is Roxy not your wife? Who’s this Lucille?”

“Roxy is my second wife,” Negan explained, and then there was Dwight – good, ol’ reliable Dwight who hustled and moved his ass to fetch Lucille off her ceremonial place on the mantle. Negan snatched Lucille, his wooden baseball bat with barbed wire wrapped around the business end, away from Dwight and pointed it at the back of Ezekiel’s head, taking aim. “Lucille was my first wife. She’s dead now.” Dwight quickly left, and Negan strode forward until he was in Ezekiel’s line of sight. He twirled Lucille around with practiced ease, enjoying the reassuring weight of her in his hand. “This is Lucille and she – is – awesome!”

For once, Ezekiel looked impressed as his eyes focused on the weapon held inches in front of his nose. Without looking away from it, he raised his voice and called, “Jerry!”

Now it was Negan’s turn to ignore what Ezekiel was saying as he started monologuing, “Now you said you wanted to fucking negotiate with my fucking wife, well here she fucking is! Ain’t she a fucking beauty? Fucking gorgeous, isn’t she? I love her, but she can be a bit of a jealous bitch when it comes to Roxy. Now since I’ve married Roxy and became leader of the Sanctuary, I had to retire Lucille. I only bring her out for special occasions now, ceremonial shit and stuff, you get it. See, look at her one fatal flaw.” Negan shoved the bat closer to Ezekiel’s face, narrowly missing cutting the man’s cheek with the barbed wire. He twisted Lucille in his grip, turning her over until her blemish was dramatically revealed – a single bullet lodged tight in her. “Some fuck shot my Lucille, and I had to kill them. But that’s what I fucking get for bringing a fucking bat to a gun fight like a stupid fuck.”

“Jerry!”

“Now, Lucille is my fucking thirsty girl, Zeke,” Negan swung her through the air and the air whistled through her barbed wire, sweet music to Negan’s ears. God, he missed carrying Lucille around; the reassuring weight of her in his hand; the smooth wood grain against his palm; the coolness of her polished surface rapidly warming up in his grip. “She’s a fucking vampire bat.” Negan swung Lucille again and he allowed himself to toddle on one foot, gloating over Ezekiel, displaying his power like a cock strutting through the hen house. If Negan were a peacock, Lucille was the only feather he would need. “And right now, she’s fucking thirsty for fucking blood – your fucking blood, Zeke.” Negan gestured with her at Ezekiel. “Don’t you know it’s fucking rude to deny my pretty lady a goddamned drink. You got something fucking better you can fucking offer her?”

“JERRY!”

“Negan, stop it,” came a cool, feminine voice. Negan jerked around, deeply surprised, and there was Roxy in all her glory. She had her blonde hair elegantly curled and pinned up around her pretty face, skin fresh and flawless, lips painted blood red and eyes just sparkling and demanding a blood sacrifice. Roxy wore a fashionable – and almost needless to say expensive – evening gown that Negan had yet to see her in. The gown had slit up the side to her hip, and if Negan squinted, he was sure that she wasn’t wearing panties. Her gown was a flattering shade of deep purple. Royal purple, Negan belated realized.

“Stop your posturing,” Roxy continued, “You’ve scared him enough. Offer him the contract again, he’ll accept it this time.” Her eyes slid away from Negan towards Ezekiel, frozen in place in his armchair. Negan watched in fascination as Roxy’s face bloomed into a smile when she locked eyes with Ezekiel, and Negan felt jealousy pour into his heart like hot, boiling lava. “Won’t you accept the contract now? Surely, you can see how reasonable we’re being?”

Quickly, Ezekiel was out of the chair and standing before Roxy. He caught her outstretched hand and brought it to his lips, brushing them sensually over her knuckles before he pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her hand. “Roxy,” he greeted smoothly and Negan choked on his spit. “Thank goodness you’ve arrived. Your husband has quite the temper.” He shot a look at Negan as he continued, “For someone such as you, I thought you’d marry a prince rather than a dragon.”

“Oh, Ezekiel,” Roxy simpered at him with sweet smile dripping with sugar and honey.

Ezekiel said, “Be that as it may, Roxy, you deserve a king rather than a prince or dragon…or troll.”

The grip Negan had on Lucille was so tight he felt like one flex of his knuckles would snap her in half. As it was, he could do nothing, watching this play out before him like some sick, twisted nightmare. Negan knew Roxy was doing this on purpose to make him jealous, he could see it in her eyes, he could see it in her smile. This was all one big act, a show, and she was succeeding too well. It hadn’t escaped Negan’s notice that Ezekiel was still holding her hands, and Negan nearly brought Lucille crashing down Ezekiel when he saw the man’s thumb sweep over her knuckles.

“Ezekiel,” Roxy tittered, and Negan had never heard her laugh like this for. He marginally relaxed, more reassured than ever that this was an attempt to get him jealous. “Ezekiel, you flatter me,” Roxy managed to convey through her giggles, “But I suppose that was enough excitement for tonight. Why don’t you sign the contract now, and I’ll change just one thing about it.”

“What would you like to change about it, Roxy?” Ezekiel inquired and he turned away to fetch the contract from the floor. When he bent over, Roxy eyed his rear, and Negan eyed Roxy eyeing Ezekiel’s rear with bridled rage in the form of lava bubbling through his veins.

“Oh, just a stipulation that all drugs sold in your kingdom cannot be sold to minors – and to us that means if they can’t drink, they can’t buy your drugs, no matter how much money they offer,” Roxy informed him, “Additionally, I’ll make you a promise that so long as you give us half of everything, no Saviors can enter the Bronx without your permission. Not even when they’re off the clock.” Roxy practically glided across the floor to Ezekiel, and when she walked it expose one long, long leg from her delicate ankles to her creamy thigh. She took the contract and place it on the desk. There she took Negan’s ballpoint pen and slashed it across the page, adding her adjustments in a footnote. Holding the pen in front of her face vertically, nearly kissing it with her sinfully red mouth, Roxy asked Ezekiel in a teasing sort of tone, “Do we have an accord, my king?” Negan tasted ash in his mouth and he wished he could breathe fire so he could burn Ezekiel down where he stood.

Unaware of Negan’s murderous thoughts, Ezekiel stared at Roxy. He was as equally surprised as he was pleased with the offer. “Well, how do you know I’ll deliver half to you if no Saviors are permitted in the Kingdom?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Roxy said and glided back across the room, once again showing off her flawless leg. Negan watched her progress, getting twitchy with Lucille the longer this carried out, but he was ashamed of himself for losing his temper so quickly and falling for Roxy’s mind games. He was going to let her finish this out since that seemed to be her goal from the very beginning, and as soon as Ezekiel finished putting pen to paper, Negan intended to confront Roxy. Well, actually, he intended to do more than just confront her. He just hadn’t decided what yet.

The abused office door was gently opened by Roxy this time and she curled her fingers in a come-hither motion at some man that Negan couldn’t see from where he stood, but it didn’t matter because Negan instantly hated him for it. The man entered the office anyway. “This is Gavin,” Roxy introduced him to Ezekiel and explained, “He will be the one primarily doing business with you. Only Gavin and a few of his most trusted men will be allowed to enter the Bronx with impunity. He is one of the most reasonable and level-headed man I know.” Roxy assured Ezekiel, “You can trust him.”

“Gavin, if you come with such high praise from Roxy, then doubtlessly, I intrinsically trust you!” Ezekiel proclaimed. “Where do I sign?”

Negan couldn’t believe it. Roxy had done it. Everything she did is exactly what Negan would have wanted and negotiated for, too, if he hadn’t let himself be driven mad by jealousy. He watched in silence as Roxy passed Ezekiel the pen, swatting at his chest playfully. Ezekiel signed and Roxy cheered, looping her arms through his as she led him out of the office. She was telling him about the party they had planned and was encouraging everyone to head down and enjoy Fat Joey’s cooking and Simon’s expertedly crafted drinks, but Negan couldn’t hear her over the dull roaring in his ears.

Before she could leave, Negan caught her by the elbow. “You go on and start the party without us,” Negan addressed Ezekiel, “please, excuse us. I need to have a word with my wife.” Before Ezekiel or anyone else could say anything, Negan slammed the door shut.

His wife Roxy jerked her arm out of his grasp, but Negan wasn’t going to stand for that shit. He whipped around and was on her in an instant. “What the fuck are you doing trying to cut my damn legs out from under me? You wanna castrate me and keep my huge ass balls in your fucking purse?”

“Did you at least have the curtesy to fire that whore?” Roxy asked cuttingly, standing with him nose to nose.

“Fuck, Roxy, there was nothing between me and her.”

“Then why the fuck did she have her hand down your pants, Negan?” Roxy jabbed her finger into his chest, not believing him for one minute.

Frustrated, Negan pulled away and put Lucille aside on the armchair that Ezekiel had recently vacated. Pulling himself together, Negan scrubbed his hand through his short beard before he turned back to Roxy to explain, “That was her shit way of trying to convince me she deserves a fucking raise. It didn’t fucking work, and yes, I did have Sherry fire her presumptuous ass.”

“Her way of getting a pay raise was to get a literally raise out of you?” Roxy shook her head.

“Roxy, baby girl,” Negan began placatingly.

“No, don’t call me that, I’m angry at you.” She crossed her arms, and Negan could tell that she was fighting the urge to pout.

“Baby girl,” Negan called her anyway, “you know you’re the only woman for me. There is no other woman.”

She held on to her grudge for only a moment longer, and then Roxy came to him with a breathy sigh of relief. “Negan,” she lovingly called and wrapped her arms around him in a loving embrace. Tilting her head back, she looked at him with soft eyes. “I forgive you, but if I catch you with another woman, I’ll cut off your dick.”

Despite knowing the severity of the threat, Negan laughed it off. “There’s my girl.” He caught her by her chin and brought their mouths together in a loving kiss. “Speaking of you being my girl,” Negan growled lowly to her, “What was that shit you were pulling back there with Ezekiel.”

Feigning innocence, Roxy batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, it was nothing, Daddy.” At the invocation of his pet name, Negan knew he had the go ahead.

“Uh huh, I don’t fucking think so, baby girl.” His hand slipped down and wrapped around her pretty throat. “You’ve been a bad girl, and I think you need a fucking reminder of just who you belong to.” Negan’s other hand around her waist slipped inside the slit of her dress and confirmed his suspicions: no panties. “Good girls wear panties, baby girl, so where the fuck are yours? I know I bought you a cute little lacey black pair very fucking recently.”

Playing the part, Roxy gasped back to him, “I lost them, Daddy. I’m sorry.” She fanned her eyelashes at him again, coy.

“Oh, no the fuck you’re not. Not fucking yet you aren’t, baby girl.” Releasing her, Negan stepped back and imperiously pointed at the desk. “Fucking strip for me, baby girl, and then lay yourself across the desk and spread your legs. You need some fucking punishment, and I wanna see what’s mine.”

Stifling her excitement, Roxy was torn between wanting to strip her gown off as fast as possible or put on a little show for Negan. She went with the latter option, but as soon as Negan cottoned on, he immediately shut that shit down. He wagged his finger at her. “No, baby girl. No bullshit. I know what the fuck is under there because it belongs me. You’ve worn my patience out.”

Shivering a little, Roxy knew she was in for a rough night, and she was looking forward to it. “Yes, Daddy.” She did as she said, leaving her evening gown pooled on the floor. Stepping up to his desk, she draped herself across it, the contract pressed against her breasts. Roxy made sure to push her rear up and out, spreading her thighs just wide enough to allow a little peep of her already glistening pussy underneath.

Surprisingly, Negan kept her waiting, and Roxy could hear him rummaging around in one of his cabinets. She wondered what he could possibly be looking for since she couldn’t remember if they kept any of their toys stored in his office. But then there was a sharp pain on her ass as Negan brought the flat of his hand crashing down. “Fucking count for me, baby girl.”

“One!” She managed to gasp out, and she lifted her arms so she could grasp the opposite end of his desk.

Again, Negan brought his hand down hard, but on the opposite cheek this time, spreading out the pain so it wouldn’t become too intense.

“T-two!” Roxy stuttered out, louder this time.

His hand came down with a crack, lower on her bottom this time, achingly close to her pussy.

“Three!” Roxy groaned, biting down hard on her bottom lip, eyes rolling back.

He switched to the other cheek again, spanking her harder, not pleased with her volume levels. “Louder,” he ordered her.

“Four!” Roxy made sure to shout, and her pussy pulsed, dribbling out signs of her arousal.

Negan paused to admire his handiwork so far, taking his time on where to land his next strike. The anticipation nearly killed Roxy and she jumped when he finally spanked her.

“Five!” She cried out, and tears began to form in her eyes.

This time Negan smoothed his hand over her stinging ass, his touch gentle. “You’re doing great, baby girl. Already halfway there and you’re taking it like a champ.” Then he cracked down again.

“S-six!” Roxy’s voice was watery and the tears spilled down her cheeks, smudging her makeup, though she hardly noticed that.

He spanked her again, brutally hard, but he knew she could take it.

“Se-seven!” Unintentionally, she flinched away, overly sensitive now.

“No, baby girl, none of that pussy shit. You can handle this. Don’t you fucking hide from me.” Negan waited for Roxy to move back into her previous position. “Don’t make me start over, baby girl. You’re not gonna fucking like that, and I’m getting a little fucking impatient over here.” Obediently, she spread herself again. Roxy knew that if she wanted to, she could invoke their safe word, but she wanted to push herself. Pleased with her, Negan spanked her three times in quick succession.

“Eight! Nine! Ten!”

“Great job, baby girl. Knew you had it in ya.” Negan gently traced his fingers over her tomato red ass. His fingers dipped lower and traced teasingly around her wet labia. “Seems like this wasn’t in fucking punishment for you. My naughty, dirty, baby girl. You’re kinky as fuck and so damn good getting wet for me like this. Do you think you deserve my fat dick, baby girl? You think you’ve been a good girl for Daddy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Roxy eagerly whined, pushing her rear back into his touch. “Make me yours, claim me.” She dared to look back at him over her shoulder, and gave him her best ‘fuck me’ eyes. Her mouth dropped open and she swept her tongue across her bottom lip, moaning at him. While her back was turned, Negan had untucked himself from his suit and now his dick was hanging out, thick and heavy and needy – just like how she liked it. Immediately her eyes were drawn to it, but then Negan lifted something shiny in his hand. Then Roxy finally saw what Negan had rummaged around for earlier

It was Negan’s knife, serrated edge and obscenely huge. When Negan and Roxy first started working together, she accused him as using that knife and Lucille as compensation for something. She couldn’t have been more wrong about that. Roxy had fond memories of the knife. It saved their lives more than once, and on one very special occasion, Negan used that knife to gut some creep that wouldn’t stop hitting on her. That’s how that knife earned that fond nickname the Pig Sticker. Like Lucille, though, the Pig Sticker was retired once Negan took his place at the top. Roxy couldn’t think of a single time where the Pig Sticker had to be used again. Now, though, she had a faint idea of what kind of special occasion it was going to be used for.

Waving the Pig Sticker in the air, the blade flashed and so did Negan’s smile. “That’s right, baby girl.” Stepping up to her, Negan simultaneously teased Roxy by rubbing his dick between her sopping wet pussy lips and ever so carefully dragging the flat of the blade over the curve of her rear. The cool blade soothed Roxy’s heated cheeks, and she couldn’t help but push herself back into Negan and against the Pig Sticker. “Ah, ah, ah, baby girl. You gotta be extra still for Daddy when I have this.”

Gnawing on her abused bottom lip, Roxy nodded her head. “Yes, Daddy.” Holding still was going to be hard to do when he was rutting up against her like that. Honestly, Roxy wasn’t afraid if the Pig Sticker would accidentally nick her either. Still, she did as Negan said because she knew otherwise he wouldn’t fuck her. She had to be a good girl for him.

Humming gladly at Roxy’s docile nature, Negan dragged the blade up her spine on the serrated edge side. The teeth were just barely pressed against her skin, enough to caress, but not deep enough to cut her. Part of Negan was very tempted to cut a small ‘N’ right on her shapely rear, but now wasn’t the time for that. Maybe later he’d take her out to get his name properly tattooed on her. Tucking that idea away for later, Negan gripped her hip with his free hand hard enough to bruise and teasingly dipped the mushroom tip of his cock in her entrance. “You ready for me, baby girl?”

Throwing her head back, Roxy whimpered, “Yes, Daddy, please fuck me. Please.” Normally it would take a lot more for her to beg, but she had missed Negan as much as he missed her. Besides that, she was too on edge, desperately in need of release that only he could deliver. Touching herself hadn’t been enough these past few days.

Not able to tease himself as well any longer, Negan thrust inside her to the hilt, and groaned at the feel of her hot, velvety walls around his cock. She was so tight and yet, squeezing him just right. And he himself was so thick and long, able to hit that special spot within her right on the head of his cock every time. They were practically made for each other.

As he started to move, he situated himself where he was bent over her partially. He grabbed ahold of her hair and pulled her back until she her back was bowed inward. The Pig Sticker was held up to her throat, just held there, hovering, though Roxy could sense its close proximity. Negan quickened his pace and began muttering to her desperately, forced to raise his voice to be heard over the sound of her guttural moans.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby girl, that you’ll be ruined for any other man. You are fucking mine, you hear me? Fucking mine. You don’t look at anyone else, you don’t need anyone else. I’m the only one who can meet your fucking needs. No one can fuck your pussy this damn fucking good. Shit. Fucking scream for me, baby girl.”

Right on cue, Roxy’s already hoarse voice started screaming at the top of her lungs, “NEGAN! OH, GOD, NEGAN!” Over and over again she chanted, and with Negan’s encouragement she didn’t stop. His name was shaped like a prayer, a desperate plea for that sweet release, a litany of all she knew how to say.

“That’s fucking right, baby girl,” Negan grunted in satisfaction and slammed into her harder. His bony hips smacked against her still sore ass, deliciously mixing her pain with her pleasure. The Pig Sticker never wavered, and Negan pulled harder on her hair until her hair follicles were screaming in agony, too. “Scream louder and let everyone know who the fuck you belong to. Who the fuck do you belong, too?”

“Negan!” Roxy screamed one final time and then her shouts were wordless and mangled in her throat as she came without him even having to touch her on her clit. Her pussy spasmed around him, and it triggered his own orgasm, though he fucked her through both of theirs. She milked him for all he was worth, and Negan didn’t stop until he had completely emptied his balls inside her.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he cursed softly at her. He pulled the knife away, dropped it to the desk with a noisy clatter too loud now in the near silent office, so at odds with how it was just moments ago. When Negan let go of the strong grip he had on her blonde hair, Roxy immediately dropped forward on the desk, breathing heavily, altogether a sweaty mess.

Negan inhaled deeply through his nose, enjoying the stench of sex, and then took a wobbly step backwards to examine what is his. had properly ruined her meticulously styled hair, and there was no saving it. Her ass was still blushing prettily for him, and there would probably be bruises on her hip the size of his fingertips from where he grabbed her earlier. Negan’s come mixed prettily with Roxy’s, now starting to drip out of her fucked cunt since he had slipped his flaccid cock out of her.

He made a noise of contentment, slipping his hand down and pushing his come back inside her. Roxy weakly rocked her hips back into him, making small mewling noises. Negan didn’t stop finger-fucking her until she had another orgasm, albeit smaller, but an orgasm nonetheless that caused her thighs to quiver, and she collapsed fully on the desk now, unable to stand on her own.

Pleased, he removed his hand and walked around the desk to where her head was lazily lolling to the side. “I need you to lick me clean, baby girl.” Expectantly, he held his fingers to her lips, and she sucked them into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and cleaning the fluids off. Then Negan pushed his dick in her face, and Roxy cleaned that with kitten licks until her lipstick was smudged all over her face. Negan made sure to tuck himself away before he could get fully hard again.

“Alright, Roxy, you need to be a big girl for me and put your dress back on. We’ve got a party to go to.”

A little shocked, Roxy looked up at him in disbelief. Negan actually expected her to go downstairs and face all their guests while his come was still in her, drying on her sticky thighs. Her make-up was ruined, her hair unsalvageable. There was no way she’d be able to sit and walking was going to be a problem, too. But he was going to flaunt her and call her beautiful anyway, even if she looked like a disaster. He loved her.

“Okay, Negan,” Roxy said with a smile and pushed herself up off the desk.

“Atta girl, Roxy,” Negan said to her with a smile just as big. He leaned over and kissed her, his whiskers tickling and burning her skin. “I love you, my wife.”

“And I love you, my husband. I’m yours.”

“You’re mine.”

“I belong to you.”

“You belong to me,” Negan agreed, and kissed her again. Then he whispered so low and almost darkly that Roxy felt arousal pool in her stomach again, “Don’t forget, baby girl, I own you.”

Gulping, she nodded in agreement, and then kissed him back. Then she pulled away before it could get too passionate again. They had a party to go to with guests waiting them. Roxy gathered her confidence. She would not be ashamed of anything. They would know that she was Negan’s.

HOT FUCKING DAMN SON, IM DYING, I CANT STOP GRINNING AND FLAILING. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING THIS, ITS AMAZING, I LOVE IT, FUCK THE REST OF MY BIRTHDAY PRESENTS TUESDAY THIS IS THE ONLY THAT MATTERS. YAAAS

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sambinnie · 5 years

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This week’s wonderful & worthwhile things:

[All links repeated at the end]

1. Our kitchen ceiling caved in, due to a major leak from the bathroom. But there’s nothing like children dancing around in helpful excitement to make a small catastrophe feel like a minor adventure. (It’s only when a secondary leak floods the initial repair that I cry.)

2. The courgette seeds we planted have become fat leaves on dark stalks, budding again and again. I’m currently debating whether I need to cancel all trips away from the house, so I can be here to care for the tiny kitchen garden of sprouting herbs and craning, fur-bedded vegetables. I feel like a god. I started with a bag of soil & seed compost, an old tupperware box, and seeds; accessible to lots of people, I hope, and I cannot recommend it enough.

3. It’s difficult to measure love, and it’s irresponsible to discount the effects of our parents’ inherited trauma. I can safely say, however, that I have never once felt loved by my mother. I disliked her through my childhood and teens with the kind of gut-instinct a child has for grinding quotidian injustice, then found a peace with her in my twenties. Friends with similar parents had said over and over, ‘It’s just about accepting that they’ll never be who we need. We just have to decide whether we want to have a relationship with who they actually are.’ And I did, so we saw each other frequently, and I swallowed that sense of always being manipulated and unheard. (When I told her news of my job redundancy, or my pregnancies, or my cavernoma, I was cut off each time with more pressing anecdotes of her own. It was almost funny, in the way family jokes are, except for all those times when it wasn’t.)

Last summer, four years since the cancer treatment and death of my father — appointments and notes and visits, my efforts to ensure distant family were kept informed about each change in condition, each suggestion from the care team — I had a similar nerve-wracking few weeks with my mother, this time in a French hospital. This time I couldn’t visit, but found myself the initial point of contact, responsible at first for telling her neighbours, siblings, and my sisters, as well as calling her and the hospital each day for updates. Some weeks after her return, I received a typed letter informing me that I was subsequently being removed as one of her executors (my sisters though would remain) as well as having my power of attorney revoked. I have never uncovered why. She didn’t contact me on my birthday, nor on Christmas Day (I, like all children in these circumstances, still contacted her on her birthday and at Christmas. We always want to prove that we’re better than they’ve told us). All of this wormed inside my brain, constantly, painfully, until sudden clarity hit: Jackasses Gonna Jackass. (Before I was declared the Most Terrible Person, my sister held the title; before her, my father; before him, my uncle; before him, probably me again. This realisation also helped.)

As my children grow older, my anger returns. As they grow past milestones I remember from my own childhood — the age I was when calmly told to choose what I was going to be hit with after some behavioural infraction; the age I was when she stormily cut my hair from past my shoulders to a boy’s dull, savage chop (I wept throughout — my father tried to intervene — she insisted afterwards that it was what I wanted); the many, many ages when she consistently told my embarrassed visiting friends to ignore me as I was ‘just showing off’ – such a trivial slight! such a shaping of my feelings about keeping her away from people I valued! –; the years and years where I wrestled with my unfathomable unhappiness in this nice, middle-class home where I was bought presents and taken on holidays — it seems horribly simple to avoid these things. Don’t humiliate your child. Don’t terrify them. Don’t constantly repeat the witless truism that you ‘love them, but don’t like them.’

I find it easy to admit making a mistake. I apologise freely and with thoughtfulness to my children, my partner, friends, because I am not perfect, because we are all human. Part of growing up is the difficult realisation that your parents are human too, and they make mistakes. But sometimes it’s even harder to accept that you really haven’t done anything wrong – at four, at seven, at 10, at 37 – and that you, like everyone else, deserve better.

Anyway, when I vanish down a Lucille Bluth-flavoured hole of anger and hurt, I remember that exercise helps everything. And it does! Do treat yourself to some, if you can. Also, I read this book while camping recently and it is wonderful. Dodie Smith writes with such understatement that I could read her books twenty times and come away with something different each go.

4. This programme (part 1 of 2) about Jeremy Hardy is so utterly wonderful. It also contains clips of brilliant Linda Smith and Humphrey Lyttleton, and I realise I spend vast portions of my time watching, listening to, or writing comedy because it’s how I understand, process, and communicate my own feelings to the world. (If that’s not turning your lemons into lemonade, I don’t know what is.)

5. I finally order prescription sunglasses, after years of balancing normal sunglasses over my spectacles, on the pollenous days I can’t hack contact lenses. Continuing my Squash And A Squeeze philosophy of life, it feels like a gift, delighting me at least six times a day.

6. Although repetition has somewhat rendered athletic ads featuring everyday girls and women a cynical trope, there’s nothing like watching a large group of girls play a sport they love. The variety of body shapes, the support they offer one another, and the sheer enjoyment of it. Really, don’t all joys boil down to enjoying our bodies while we can?

7. The day is bright today, and I took the dog on a longer walk than usual; watching that dog trying to run out a greyhound was hilarious, the sleek fool. At the time, I was listening to this episode of The Cut on Tuesday, on the topic of Spring Horniness and the weird trash we get hot over, which contains the immortal line “The bud is breaking through. But the soil that nurtured the bud was all fucked up, and now the flower is weird.” Also, the final line of the episode made me do an actual out-loud bark of laughter.

8. It’s several years old now, but I love how both Bad Neighbours 2 and this review scratch an itch in completely different ways. I love the film for everything it undoes of the first one, plus the sheer charm of Efron and furious optimism of Chloë Grace Moretz; also, Rose Byrne, who might be one of the most underrated comedic actresses of our time. But the review offers something else, and sates the library-card-carrying part of my brain that wants to read a thousand think pieces on Magic Mike XXL and Parks & Rec and The Windsors. I hope you enjoy both.

1. When Jeremy Hardy Spoke to the Nation here

2. The Cut on Tuesday – I Want to Put My Mouth on That here

3. Little White Lies review of Bad Neighbours 2 here

#hope #gardening #inherited trauma #comedy #podcasts #film #reviews #recommendations

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pedroscurls · 7 years

Text

Title: Just the Three of Us (Part 6.)

CHAPTER TITLE: We Are Nothing

Part 1. - Part 2. - Part 3. - Part 4. - Part 5.

Character(s): Negan x Reader (pre-apocalypse) Summary: Negan tells the Reader the truth. Word Count: 2,745 Warning: Language because, well, it’s Negan. Author’s Note: Short chapter! So, no smut in this one, but I’m building up this storyline! I hope you all stay tuned for what’s to come... ;)

Taglist: @oceaninwinter || @thirstygirl--twd || @isayweallgetdrunk || @illysamorgan || @loreleilara || @adayinmymeadow || @cheyanhicks || @theonethatgotaway213 || @jannavaire || @butler-boi || @female-x || @1d-niallerbieberforever || @voidobsession || @choolhooter || @smudged-lineart || @zaddygrimes || @negans-network || @simons-thirst-squad

“So, have you talked to Negan?” You asked, turning over onto your side. Simon was lying on his back, his arm wrapped around your shoulders with the other resting behind his head. It had been another night that he decided to take you out on a date, except it was shorter than usual due to his wandering hands.

“I have, yes.” Simon replied, looking over at you.

You nodded. It had been a month since you last saw and spoke to Negan. He didn’t even text in the group chat any longer. Simon had reassured you and said he was busy taking care of Lucille since she was now admitted to the hospital for further treatment.

Still, though, you wanted to know how he was doing. Negan seemed like the type of man who tended to have things bottled in and you didn’t want to be there when he decided to let all of his pent-up emotions out.

“Is he – Is he okay?”

Simon sighed, “You know you don’t have to worry about him.”

“I can’t help it, Simon.”

“He’s okay, [Y/N]. Trust me on that, okay?”

You sighed, leaning over to kiss his cheek. You had to trust Simon for his word. It wasn’t like you could just text Negan out of the blue. And even if you were able to, you weren’t sure how Negan would react.

“I do trust you, Simon. I just – Never mind.”

“I understand that you care about him, but he’s fine. He will be fine.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You nodded, resting your head back against his shoulder. His arm tightened around your frame, allowing you to snuggle closer to his side.

“I know I’m right.”

You giggled, playfully hitting his abdomen in which he caught your wrist in the process and kissed your fingertips.

Staring up at him, you smiled. “Thank you for a short date tonight,” you teased.

“Did you really expect me to allow you to leave this house wearing that red number you had on?”

“Well, I was hoping I would get something to eat –”

“Oh, I had my meal,” he grinned.

“Stop,” you blushed, burying your face further into the crook of his neck.

Simon smiled, slowly rolling you back onto your back. He hovered above you and ran his lips across your jawline and down to your neck, nipping his way towards your collarbone.

“Simon…” You whimpered.

“Shh. I’m hungry again,” he winked.

It was your day off from working at Chris and Simon’s bar. You were all finished with your assignments. It felt good to be able to be on top of things. Now that you were accustomed to the routine you set yourself, it felt like you had much more free time.

So, you decided to stop by at Simon’s bar. Deep down, though, you were hoping you would bump into Negan. Talking to Simon about it a couple of days ago didn’t ease your mind like he thought it would. He said Negan was okay, but how could one be okay when their wife was battling cancer?

Negan needed a support group. He needed people to be there for him. You wanted to be able to offer that to him.

You decided to change into leggings and a simple t-shirt with its sleeves folded halfway to your shoulders. You slipped on your sandals and grabbed your bag, retrieving your phone to check if you had any missed messages.

You were disappointed when you didn’t have any.

Any day now, you were just hoping to see a new message from Negan. But, you kept waiting and waiting and soon enough, you decided to stop waiting for something that would never happen.

Once you made it to Simon’s bar, you stepped inside to see that it wasn’t as busy as it usually was when you were working with John.

The younger man noticed you immediately, grinning broadly and waving you over to the counter. You laughed quietly, walking to the bar and sitting at the stool.

“Miss me that much?” He teased.

“Oh, definitely, John. I live to be in your presence.”

John laughed, grabbing a glass and began making your favorite margarita.

“So, why are you here?” He asked.

“It’s my day off and I finished my assignments from school. I figured I’d do something,” you shrugged.

“And you decided that on your day off, that you should come back to work to relax? You okay?”

“If I was on the other side of this counter, I would have punched you already,” you teased.

“Oh, like this counter is going to stop you.”

“It’s doing a wonderful job, isn’t it? Have you been hit yet?”

“Well, no –”

“Exactly,” you grinned.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. This one’s on the house,” John smiled, setting your drink down in front of you.

“Thank you, John.”

You sit at the bar, staring down at your fruity drink before you heard Simon’s voice following another that you hadn’t heard in a month. You looked over at the hallway and noticed Negan sporting a black leather jacket with a white shirt underneath. He looked worse for wear, but at least he was able to shave his beard.

He looked much different without it. Though, you couldn’t help but stare at how more prominent his dimples were.

When Negan looked up, you instantly dropped your eyes and decided to look away. You had wanted to see him since the last time you two spoke, but you didn’t expect the sudden urge to just run away and wish you never came here in the first place.

“I’m going to go the bathroom. Watch my drink, please,” you told John, standing from the stool and quickly walking to the bathroom once both men moved to stand near the counter. You kept your head down, bringing a hand to absently scratch at your temple in an attempt to cover your face.

Once you stepped into the bathroom, you quickly locked it behind you. You sighed, resting your hands on the edges of the sink as you tried to maintain an even breath.

You didn’t know what to say to Negan. You didn’t even know if he wanted to talk to you.

You were taken out of your thoughts when you heard two loud knocks coming from the other end of the door.

“Someone’s in here!” You yelled.

“I know someone is in there. It says occupied. You going to let me in?”

It was Simon.

You sighed and unlocked the door, opening it for him. He looked down at you once he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

“What’s up?” He asked.

“You want to start a conversation here in the bathroom?”

“Well, I would like it if we were outside, but it seems like you’re hiding, so I’m trying to make you feel comfortable.”

“He’s here, Simon,” you said.

“I know he is. Is that why you’re hiding in the bathroom?”

“I am not hiding.”

“Well, I don’t see you sitting on that toilet, so I’d say you’re trying to avoid someone,” he replied.

“I’m not going to say you’re right again,” you pouted, resting your forehead against his chest.

Simon’s arms instantly wrapped around you, resting his chin at the crown of your head comfortably. It was nice at how easily it was for you two to slip into this type of behavior with one another.

“I think you should go,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“I don’t think Negan seeing you will help, [Y/N].”

“And why is that?” You asked, pulling back from him.

“Because the last time you two spoke to each other, it turned into a big argument. So, I’d rather avoid that at all costs.”

“No, you know what? I’m going to be the bigger person here and apologize. He needs us, Simon.”

“Us?” He repeated.

“You. I mean you. You know what I mean,” you sighed.

“I’m obviously not going to be able to stop you, but just – Be careful.”

“I will. Just going to apologize then I’ll continue with my drink,” you replied, leaning up to peck his lips.

“All right. Nothing more,” he said.

“You got it, sir.”

Simon growled, “Not here.”

You laughed quietly, “Uh huh. You go back to work. I’ve got some apologizing to do.”

Once you both went separate ways, you walked back to the bar and sat at your original stool. You noticed that Negan was sitting just one stool away from you to your right. You sat down and sipped at the alcoholic beverage, glancing over at him to see him drinking his usual scotch.

With a hesitant sigh, you decided to sit directly next to him. He didn’t even glance at you. All he did was raise a finger in the air for John to refill his glass.

You knew better than to tell him to stop. You had learned your lesson last time.

Once John walked away, you took a deep breath and spoke, “Negan…”

“Yes?” He asked, glancing down at you. It was the first time in a while that your eyes met with his own, but it was a short-lived moment when he decided to look away.

“It’s nice to see you…”

“Yeah,” he responded.

“Listen, I just want to apologize for how things went with you and I last time. It wasn’t my place to talk about something, or rather someone… So, I’m sorry.”

“What do you want me to say? I don’t care. The past is the past. It’s not my fucking job to dwell on it,” he shrugged.

“Oh, well… How are you doing?”

Negan took a deep breath and looked down at you. You could see the irritation, but also the guilt and sadness in his brown eyes.

“Can I have a fucking drink in peace? Please? You asked me how the fuck I was all the damn time a month ago and I would like it if you stopped asking me. I’m fucking fine, okay?”

You cleared your throat. You didn’t expect him to lash out at you.

“I just – I wanted to make sure you were doing okay…”

“I am fucking fine,” Negan spat.

“But it’s just – You don’t look fine, Negan.”

“Why the fuck do you care, huh [Y/N]? Tell me that. Why the fuck are you so worried about my goddamn wellbeing?”

You were leaning back just a bit to give yourself some space between you and Negan. He was angry now and you didn’t know how this conversation turned sour so quickly.

“You’re my friend, Negan…”

He laughed. You were confused. He had thrown his head back and chuckled, laughing into the air. You didn’t know what had gotten into him. It was like he was a whole different person.

“Listen here, okay, doll?”

You nodded.

“You were someone I just wanted to fuck and that’s that. The bachelor party was fun and everything else leading up to this moment was fun, but that was it. We are fucking nothing. We are not friends. We are not sex buddies. We are nothing and the sooner you fucking get that through your head, the better off you will fucking be. Now, leave me the fuck alone,” he quipped.

Negan turned to face the bar once more. You could read his body language and you knew he wanted you to leave before he would regret the next thing that may come out of his mouth.

You, on the other hand, felt tears stinging your eyes. You weren’t expecting that to come out of Negan’s lips. It also got you thinking about Simon. This all started because of pure lust and desire.

There was no way that you could actually be in a relationship with either men, right?

You downed the rest of your drink and stood up, grabbing your purse. Negan didn’t even look at you. He grinned proudly as if he finally got his wish, as if you finally decided to listen to what he said.

“Have a good lif –” Negan began, turning his head to face you.

Instantly, you brought an open hand to connect with his cheek, the sound of the slap echoing throughout the quiet bar.

“Fuck you, Negan… Goddammit, fuck you.”

Negan whipped his head back to face you. If he was angry before, he was fuming now. You could practically see his face turning red with the veins at his temple slightly protruding.

Then suddenly, he chuckled.

There was no way this man was amused at what you just did, was he?

“Sorry, [Y/N]. Gave you your chance and now that ship has sailed. Don’t worry though. You can hop onto Simon’s dick anytime now,” he winked.

Suddenly, you felt a tear stroll down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away, but not before you noticed the look of regret flash through Negan’s eyes.

“What have I ever done to you, Negan? Huh? Tell me that…”

“You came into my fucking life,” he spat, standing from the stool and barging out of the bar.

Once he had left, John walked out from behind the bar to wrap his arms around you. Instantly, you felt tears stroll down your cheeks and your shoulders shook with the intensity of your emotions running through your body. You couldn’t believe what you just heard.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N]. He’s an asshole anyway,” John reassured you.

You nodded, pulling back and wiping your eyes. “God, now you’ve seen me cry. I’ll never hear the end of this,” you teased.

John laughed quietly, “If it counts, you’re a cute crier?”

“Nope. Doesn’t count. Most definitely not.”

“Well, can’t say that I tried. How about you take another seat, have another drink and relax? It’s your day off. You deserve it.”

“Guess you’re right. Just give me a shot of vodka, please.” You sat back down onto the stool and watched as John placed a small shot glass onto the counter. He poured your glass to the brim and you picked it up, careful not to spill the contents onto the counter.

You quickly downed the drink, feeling it burn at the back of your throat. You glanced around and sighed, noticing that a few customers had their eyes glued to the television. Slowly, you followed their gaze and heard a few people asking John to turn it up.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, watching as the woman on the television was being shot by many policemen.

“Why the fuck isn’t she dead yet?” John asked, covering his mouth at the sight.

Your eyes drifted to the white sheet in the background. It must have been a dead body. But, you were taken by surprise when the person lying underneath the sheet sat up and the gunfire was heard through the small speaker of the television.

“She must be on some fucking drug or something,” a customer commented.

“I don’t think so. There’s another one that’s acting just like her. Fucking kids these days,” another added.

You cleared your throat. You had watched your fair share of zombie movies and the ultimate fear of the apocalypse seemed like it was coming true.

“Shoot the head! Shoot the head!” A distant voice said on the television.

Instantly, you heard the gunfire and noticed a bullet lodging itself into the woman’s forehead. Almost immediately, she fell to the ground and you covered your mouth. You couldn’t believe that this happened live on television.

“Turn it off,” you mumbled.

“No way! This is interesting!” A customer replied.

“John, turn it off!” You repeated.

John sighed, nodding and turning the television off. He then turned on the music to filter throughout the bar. With a heavy sigh, you grabbed your things and looked down the hallway in hopes to see Simon.

Half of you wanted to talk to him, but the other half of you – the more dominant one at the moment – forced you to leave. You couldn’t tell him that you pissed Negan off and you even slapped him across the face.

“I’m going to head home. I’m kind of sick after seeing that. I’ll see you tomorrow, John. Good night and be safe,” you said, nodding in his direction.

“You too, [Y/N]. Call me if you need anything.”

You glanced over your shoulder at the empty hallway before leaving the bar. You climbed into your car and decided to head home.

A night that was meant for you to relax turned out to be anything but that.

294 notes · View notes

avecxplaisir · 8 years

Text

Title: Goodbye My Lover (one-shot)

Character(s): Negan and Lucille. Summary: Negan knows what's to come, but he can't seem to come to terms with it. Lucille was the woman he loved, despite everything he had done. (Inspired by "Here's Negan"). Word Count: 3,345 Author’s Note: No warnings... Except, you may want a few tissues because I know I did. The sentences in italics are flashbacks. The ones that are italicized and centered are song lyrics. I suggest listening to it while reading this one-shot. It'll give you all the feels! Song: Goodbye My Lover by James Blunt

Endless appointments of chemotherapy and yet, Lucille was only getting worse and worse by the second. These treatments were supposed to help her, not make her situation worse. Her once black locks had fallen from the roots, but she covered her bald head with a head wrap. Her once lively blue eyes were now empty and weak.

Negan still couldn’t believe that this was happening. Was this karma for cheating on her? Was this life’s way of telling him “fuck you”? He was a sorry excuse for a man and he knew it every time he looked at Lucille. She was a constant reminder of all that he had done to her.

She didn’t deserve this and he never deserved her.

As Negan sat at her bedside, holding her hand into his own, he couldn’t help the memories that seemed to always come at times like these. She would be sleeping after a painful treatment of chemotherapy and Negan did the best he could to make it better, to make it up to her.

Negan had spotted her from a distance. She was unlike anything he had seen before. No woman had ever captivated him in a way that this stranger had. He was interested and not only for a one-night stand (like he was used to). The way she smiled lit up the room. The way her hair blew in the wind made his world stand still. And her eyes… It reminded him so much of the ocean and even at a distance, he was finding himself lost in her sheer beauty.

He didn’t even have time to look over the rest of her features, but when he did, he knew he had struck gold. She was simply refilling her coffee in the teacher’s lounge, talking to one of their co-workers but Negan couldn’t help but be fascinated by her.

For once in his life, Negan was nervous to talk to her. It was stupid, really. Negan had always exuded confidence, but when it came to her, he felt as anxious as a teenage boy getting ready to ask his crush to a dance. He couldn’t believe that this woman was making him nervous.

Negan smiled at the distant memory, bringing a hand to gently touch her cheek. She didn’t move, she simply remained still. She lied about the pain she had been in, possibly because she didn’t want him to worry, but Negan saw right through it. The pain was clear in her eyes and how the tears would leak at the corners whenever she moved a slight bit.

He wished he could take the pain away… He wished he could take everything he had done wrong to her and start over…

But life didn’t work that way and if Negan was anything in this world, it was practical.

Negan spent many nights slumped over her bed, his back aching from the chair he had gotten used to sitting in. He couldn’t seem to let her go. He needed to feel her touch, the warmth of her hand to remind him that she was still here, that she was still fighting.

He lifted his hand to gently remove the head wrap, setting it aside. She looked sicklier this way. Negan wanted to cry, but he knew that this was what he deserved. He often wished that it was him on that hospital bed, suffering in endless amounts of pain. It didn’t make sense that Lucille was still hurting while he was here, sitting at her bed with a clean bill of health.

Negan noticed her eyes fluttering open and he couldn’t help but get lost in the iciness of her blue eyes just as he had when he first talked to her. It was in this moment that he remembered why he loved her so much.

“Negan…” Her voice was quiet, raspy. Negan grabbed a nearby bottle of water, placing a straw inside so it would be easier to drink from. Lucille could barely sit up, but she did her best. Negan had to smile at that. Even in pain, she willed herself to sit up for a drink of water.

“I’m here, baby… I’m here, Lucille.”

He bit his lower lip, setting the water aside to gently swipe at the fallen tear.

“It hurts… So much,” she whispered.

Negan shut his eyes at those words. In the recent weeks, she had been voicing the pain she had been experiencing. He only assumed that the end was near, but he didn’t want to believe it. His Lucille was a fighter and she wouldn’t quit fighting until it took her last breath.

Negan didn’t know how to respond. He was never one to give advice or even comfort someone in need, but this was his wife. This was his Lucille.

“Hey, you remember when I first talked to you? I was shaking like a fucking teenage boy.” Negan always found that talking about their happy memories somehow took Lucille’s mind off of the pain, off of the reality of her cancer.

She gave a small smile. It was a simple upturn of the corner of her lips, but Negan definitely took notice. It had been so long since he was able to make her smile.

“I remember…” Lucille responded, gently tightening her hold on Negan’s hand. Her grip was weak, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

After a week of preparing himself to talk to her, Negan entered the teacher’s lounge. And there she was. Standing at the coffee machine, waiting for her travel mug to be refilled. They had given each other lingering glances, but they hadn’t been able to talk to one another just yet.

But today was the day. It was going to happen.

Negan approached her. For once, she was alone. He took notice of her perfect height. She was tall enough that she would fit right underneath his chin and he wondered what else was perfect about her.

“Hello,” Lucille said, smiling up at him.

Negan cleared his throat. Fuck. Where had all his confidence gone? His hands were shaking, sweat was building at his brow, and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her.

“I’m Negan.”

Lucille giggled. Negan couldn’t help but smile at the sound that escaped her lips. It was something he wanted to hear more of.

“I’m Lucille. I hear you’re a force to be reckoned with around here,” she smiled, “with your colorful vocabulary. A lot of the teachers talk.”

Negan smirked. It was true. Many of his co-workers, including his boss, hated the way he talked, but he didn’t care. After a while, they got used to his vulgarity.

“Well, if my reputation fucking precedes me, I’d say you’re right, doll.”

“Doll?” Lucille narrowed her eyes, the smile falling from her lips.

Fuck. Negan didn’t mean for the pet name to slip; it had just been something he was used to calling all women.

But Lucille wasn’t just any woman. She was special in some sort of way and Negan was determined to find out.

“Sorry. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s kind of like – like two teenage boys calling each other bros or whatever the fuck the slang is nowadays. I didn’t mean anything by it is what I’m trying to say,” Negan explained. This was odd. He never had trouble with his words. He was rambling and usually everything he said came out smooth and confident.

“That’s okay. Though, I would watch your mouth around the kids here. Not only do the teachers talk, but so do the students.” Lucille took her mug from the machine, adding two packets of sugar to add to the dark liquid.

Negan watched her carefully. It finally sunk in. She was the counselor for this school and he couldn’t imagine what kinds of stories she had heard about him.

“No harm, no foul.”

Lucille smiled, “If that’s what you think, Negan.”

She couldn’t get over the dimples at his cheeks whenever he smiled, his eyes that seemed to change from green to hazel in different lighting. Lucille also couldn’t get over his slicked back hair and even in gym attire, he looked handsome.

Negan followed her to a nearby table. He didn’t know why he felt the need to be in her presence and it wasn’t just her beauty.

The rest of the lunch period, the two talked about anything and everything. Negan was a sports fanatic which made sense for his profession. Lucille loved helping people, but she also knew when to fight back and take a stand.

“Wanna grab dinner tomorrow night?” Negan asked abruptly. Just like clockwork, his hands shook nervously, awaiting her answer.

Lucille broke out into a grin, “I’d like that.”

Negan had moved to lie next to her, holding her against his chest. It had been so long that he couldn’t remember the last time he just held her. It brought back memories of the first time they made love, the first night of living together, the many nights he spent with her in his arms…

He didn’t know what went wrong in their relationship, but he could take a wild guess and it was because of him. Negan always wanted more than what he had. He could never settle for just one thing.

“Our first date was amazing though,” Lucille said. She rested her head against his chest and she had to shut her eyes. She remembered the many nights where she would fall asleep in his arms, resting her head against him and listening to his heart beat.

Negan glanced down at her, kissing the crown of her head.

“Even if the waiter fucked up our order?” Negan asked.

Lucille giggled and Negan felt a glimmer of hope at the sound of her laughter. It had been so long since he made her laugh.

“He wouldn’t have messed up if you weren’t so difficult,” Lucille pulled back only to look up at him.

She knew her battle with cancer was a losing battle, but staring into his eyes in this moment scared her for what was to come. She didn’t want to live a life without being in his arms, without getting lost into his eyes, without seeing him grin whenever he knew he was right… Despite their fallout in their relationship, Lucille still loved him and she would continue doing so until after she was gone.

“It isn’t my fault that I don’t like onions or fucking mustard. I still think it was a simple order,” Negan rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the smile that lined his lips.

And for the first time in a long time, Negan leaned in to press his lips against hers. It was just as he remembered. Soft, smooth, and welcoming. He had forgot how addicting her lips were and he just hoped that she would get through this so he could spend every day of his life making it up to her.

They pulled back after a while, but her tears didn’t go unnoticed. Negan bit his lower lip, bringing his hand to cup her cheek gently. He wiped her tears away, but it was no use. They were flowing down at a rapid rate and so, he settled for holding her to him. Negan allowed her to cry against his chest, staining his clothes with her tears.

Though, he gently pulled her back to look into her eyes. Still, they were just as sparkly as they were when they first met.

“I still think I’m a good fucking kisser. I don’t know why you��re cryin’,” he teased.

Lucille smiled.

“You never know when to quit, huh?” She responded.

“With you? Never.”

She brought her frail hand up to his cheek, letting her thumb brush against the grown-in facial hair. Negan turned his head gently, kissing the inside of her wrist before he decided to lean into her touch.

“I love you, Negan,” she whispered.

Negan felt his heart skip a beat. He knew he didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve her love, but he was just glad that those words escaped her lips.

“I love you too, Lucille. I fucking love you too.”

They spent the rest of the night reminiscing about their relationship. However, the two somehow managed to fall asleep and for once, they both felt relaxed. They had found their way back to one another.

The next morning, Lucille awoke with excruciating pain, but she pushed it back at the sight of Negan asleep. His arms had been around her the entire night, keeping her safe like she was used to when they were happy in their relationship.

She knew it was time. She knew it was coming.

Lucille fell back asleep, hoping the pain would disappear.

Negan awoke at the sound of banging against the door. He looked down to see Lucille still asleep, so he placed a light kiss onto her forehead before climbing out. He glanced out the window to see the rioting in the parking lot and about a dozen people dragging their feet with emotionless expressions.

What the fuck was going on?

Negan opened the door to see people running back and forth in chaos, hearing a few screams to run, to get out of here. His heart raced. He couldn’t leave Lucille and she was in no shape to leave either.

“Hey! Hey, kid! What the fuck is going on?!” Negan yelled.

“You have to get out of here! They’re going to come for you! Get out!”

“But my wife –”

Negan glanced down at the end of the hall when another human being sunk its teeth to a man’s shoulder, beginning to eat the person’s flesh. He shook his head, shutting the door and grabbing the chair to set underneath the doorknob. No one would be coming in.

When he turned to Lucille, he noticed her staring at him with eyes weaker than they were last night.

“Negan… What’s going on?”

He sat at the edge of her bed, bringing his hand to cup her cheek. “It’s nothing, sweetheart. It’s nothing…”

Lucille sighed, she didn’t have the strength to argue.

Negan stared at her and realization hit. He knew, but he wasn’t ready. He didn’t think he would ever be ready to let go of the one woman that changed his life.

You touched my heart you touched my soul. You changed my life and all my goals. And love is blind and that I knew when, My heart was blinded by you. I've kissed your lips and held your hand. Shared your dreams and shared your bed. I know you well, I know your smell. I've been addicted to you.

Negan stared into her eyes and for the first time, he let the tears finally surface. His hazel green-like eyes glaze over as he looked at her. He didn’t have to say anything. She didn’t have to say anything. They both knew.

His mind raced and he didn’t know if he could live a life without her. A life without Lucille was a world he didn’t want to live in. No one would call him out on things that were childish, no one would tease him about his favorite sports team losing a big game, no one would fit perfectly against his chest, no one would love him the way she had…

Negan didn’t want to let go.

And as you move on, remember me, Remember us and all we used to be I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile. I've watched you sleeping for a while. I'd be the father of your child. I'd spend a lifetime with you. I know your fears and you know mine. We've had our doubts but now we're fine, And I love you, I swear that's true. I cannot live without you.

Lucille kept fighting, trying to prolong her impending fate. She didn’t want to close her eyes, afraid that if she did, she would never be able to open them to see the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

They still had so much more to do. They were supposed to have a family together, even joking that if they had a boy, Negan would call him “Little Negan” and show him the ways of his love for sports. It even went as far as Negan becoming protective at the thought of having a little girl, a “Little Lucille.”

Lucille kept her eyes trained on him, despite the amount of pain she was in. She could hear the sounds of chaos happening outside of their room, but right now, what mattered was the man who was staring into her eyes.

She didn’t want to leave him.

“Negan…” Lucille whispered, bringing a hand to gently wipe the tear away from his cheek.

“Don’t… Please, fucking don’t go…” Negan’s hand on her cheek shook slightly.

“I love you… And I forgive you, okay? We’ve – We’ve had our moments, but I never stopped loving you, and I never will.” Lucille felt her own tears streak down her cheeks. When Negan placed a light kiss onto her lips, she sighed contentedly.

It was coming. It was near.

“I’m so sorry, Lucille… I should have been there for you. I should have been by your side. We could have – You could have beaten this if I hadn’t been so stupid, if I hadn’t been screwing around with –”

Lucille shook her head, “I forgive you. You’ll always be mine, Negan.”

Negan felt a lump form at his throat as he stared at her. She was slipping away in his grasp and there was nothing he could do.

“I love you, Lucille… Please… Don’t go…”

“I’ll always be here, Negan…”

Slowly, her eyes had fallen shut and the rise of her chest ceased. Negan finally felt the tears fall from his eyes, allowing himself to let go.

“Lucille…” He pleaded.

No answer.

Negan stood up, hearing a crash from outside of the door. His heart was with Lucille, so when he looked out the window, the old Negan was gone. He glanced at her lifeless body, feeling tears begin to pool at his eyes but he simply blinked it back.

Suddenly, Negan heard movement coming from the bed. He looked over at her and noticed that her once blue eyes had turned into gray. It wasn’t the same woman, but she was moving… It couldn’t be.

“Lucille…?”

The only answer he received was a quiet, monotone moan. This wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. Lucille slowly fell over the bed and Negan’s first instinct was to help her up, but he remembered what he saw outside the halls.

It had finally sunken in that this wasn’t his Lucille.

Negan stared at her, biting his lower lip. He wanted nothing more than to just hold her in his arms, allow her to rest her cheek against his chest and keep his arms around her to protect her from the bad in this world.

“I’m so sorry, Lucille… I’m so sorry…” Negan stared at her one last time before leaving the room, running to help the kid in need. His heart ached for the woman in the other room and all his pent-up frustrations were taken out on two of the undead.

“T–Thank you…” The kid said.

“My wife… She’s become one of these things. I can’t –”

The kid nodded in understanding. “I can do it, sir.”

Negan slumped to the floor, leaning back against the wall as he heard the kid step into his wife’s room. He could hear sounds of struggling, but his hearing zeroed in on the monotonous moans. He couldn’t help but wish to hear her laugh instead, to see her lively eyes instead of the emotionless ones he saw.

Once the moaning ceased, Negan slung his head forward, staring down at the tiled floor. He shut his eyes, tears threatening to spill out.

Goodbye my lover. Goodbye my friend. You have been the one. You have been the one for me.

Lucille was gone.

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pedroscurls · 8 years