Summary: The reader is a soft-hearted, soft-spoken girl. Negan is...well...he’s Negan… That says it all right there. One day he pushes her too far, pissing her off. She yells the only threat she can think of at the Savior Leader.
Warning(s): Language. Negan tries to curb his language...kinda. Angst. Threats. Violence - by LEGOs. Negan being an ass. Sweet Negan. Caring Negan. Fluff. Happy ending. *No LEGO pieces were harmed in the making of this story (those damn things are damn near indestructible)...only Negan’s foot and maybe even his ego.*
Author’s Note(s): There is no worse, more insulting threat than telling someone to go step on a LEGO...especially barefoot. If you’ve ever had the misfortune to step on a LEGO, then you understand the pain that comes with it and the insult, which is most definitely a threat, is worse than telling someone to go fuck themselves. For the sake of this story, like always:
Y/N (Y/F/N) = Your Name (Your First Name)
Y/L/N = Your Last Name
Y/H/C = Your Hair Color
Y/E/C = Your Eye Color
Word Count: 3827 words!
Relationship(s): Negan x Reader. Melissa (OFC)/Ike (OMC) [Mother/Toddler Son]
Characters: Negan. Reader. Melissa (OFC). Ike (OMC). Saviors. Workers. Negan’s wives (Sherry, Amber, Tanya, and Frankie) but they aren’t really his wives in this story. Dwight. Mark.
“I HOPE YOU FUCKIN’ STEP ON A GODDAMN FUCKIN’ LEGO BAREFOOT, YOU FUCKIN’ ASSHOLE!!!”
The silence that immediately settled over the entirety of the Sanctuary at your words was deafening. You could feel all eyes on you and the man in front of you. Your body was trembling with anger and your hands were curling and uncurling into fists down by your sides as you stared, glaring up at the man not even a foot away.
Normally, you were calm, cool, and collected. You never raised your voice. Never hit anyone. Never hurt anything, unless you absolutely needed to and it was a life or death situation. Even then, you still didn’t like to cause harm. Despite this, you still made it as one of Negan’s best soldiers, a position you’d fought long and hard for.
Even though you were the way you were, everyone had a breaking point. And yours had come that day, just after you, Negan, and ‘bout 15 other men got back from a several day-long run. You snapped. You’d finally have enough. Enough of his shit. You didn’t care that he was the leader of the Sanctuary.
Didn’t care that you would probably be punished for yelling at the man, let alone threatening him. That didn’t matter anymore. Enough had been enough. Normally the tall man didn’t get on your nerves. You didn’t mind his sexual innuendos, his crass language, his cocky swagger. But, he’d taken it too far.
Negan’s eyes were wide and you could tell he was trying to figure out whether or not to be pissed off or just smirk and charm his way outta this. Finally, a smirk tugged on his lips, his beard not even bothering to hide it, as his tongue peeked out from between his lips. He raised an eyebrow as he just stared at you.
His muddy brown eyes swirled with amusement. You huffed and glared even more. You glanced around, briefly, looking at the folks who surrounded the both of you. A mixture of Saviors, some of Negan’s top men, and everyday workers. Everyone’s eyes were wide, breaths held as they all waited to see what would become of you.
The one who yelled and threatened the man in charge. The one who was always an angel, soft-spoken, caring, and gentle with everyone. You swore there were a few people, mostly those who’d had kids, or even been around young kids, at one point or another, before the world ended or now, who gasped at the words you hurled at Negan.
They knew what kinda pain you just threatened the boss man with. But...apparently not everyone did. Even though you had only threatened Negan by telling him you hoped he stepped on a LEGO...with no shoes on...it was the most painful thing you could come up with. You really didn’t want anyone harmed.
In any way what-so-ever. It didn’t matter if it was being stabbed, shot, bit by one of the dead, tortured, or anything else. Let alone a damn LEGO. You didn’t want to wish harm on anyone. The world was already shitty ‘nough as is. As your eyes met Negan’s once more, you could tell he was one of the ones who didn’t realize what you’d just wished upon him.
His deep laugh filled the silence as he tossed his head back, his body shaking with laughter. Several other Saviors, who didn’t realize the pain either, joined him in laughter. Negan’s tongue darted out and swiped along his bottom lip as his laughter died down and he looked back at you. That damn smirk still plastered on his stupid face...regardless of how handsome said face was.
“Awwww, look at that, Boss Man. Little girl can’t even come up with a decent threat!” One of the newest Saviors sneered before everyone started laughing again.
You watched as Negan’s eyes, briefly, flashed with anger and he waved a hand at the Savior, dismissing his comment, and everyone’s laughter, as his eyes stayed locked on yours.
“She’s too kind.” He responded, not once looking away. “I’m just proud she cussed with it.”
You huffed and stormed past him, slamming your shoulder into his arm as you did. He just chuckled and called after you.
“This ain’t fuckin’ over, sweetheart!”
It took everything in you not to pull one of his signature moves and flip him off as you left him. You just ignored him as you stormed to your room, slamming the door shut once you reached it. You stripped down outta what you were wearing and slipped on your favorite shirt, an old Rock n’ Roll tee from the early 2000s, that was three sizes too big and swallowed you whole, going down to your knees.
It was your husband’s and that was one reason why you loved it, on top of the fact that it was from your favorite band too.
***
Negan’s P.O.V. ~ Now
It’s been three days since you threatened me. Three days in which you haven’t even looked at me, talked to me, or even acknowledged my existence. I must’ve really pissed you off, and I didn’t mean to. I had just been joking ‘round with you, trying to make you smile. I sigh as I walk down to the little classroom on the bottom floor of the Sanctuary.
I needed a moment to relax and seeing the youngins that lived in the Sanctuary always helped with that. Slipping off my boots once I enter the room, as per the rules of the teacher, a young woman named Melissa, I tuck them by the wall and door. I drape my leather jacket over my boots, covering Lucille with it as I do.
No point in scaring the kids.
Looking ‘round the room, I notice that there are only two people in the classroom. Melissa and her little boy, Issac, or as he likes to be called, Ike. He’s only two years old, but he’s strong-willed and absolutely adorable. I guess I missed all the other kids since it is later in the afternoon. Mel must’ve already dismissed them right after dinner.
I shrug to myself and then smile when I hear Ike squeal.
“Neeeeeeeeeeeeeegs!”
I laugh at the little boy’s excitement. “Hi, bud. You having fun? Playing with your mommy and…” I look at what they’re playing with. “LEGOs?”
Ike giggles and nods. “Ea!!”
He pats the small, racetrack kid’s carpet he’s sitting on. Chuckling, I take the hint and walk over to him, my sock covered feet almost slipping on the smooth concrete floor. I make it over to him and Mel in one piece without falling on my ass. Ike giggles as I go to cross my ankles, so I can take a seat next to him.
However, I don’t look as I move my feet and within a few seconds, my entire foot erupts in the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt. And that’s saying something considering I’ve been hit in the crotch a few too many times in my life. Hopping ‘round on one foot, I reach down, grabbing my injured one.
“Son of a fu-” My eyes meet Mel’s and the cuss word suddenly cuts off in my throat. “Fudge maker!”
I end up falling on my ass, landing on a few more pieces of the building toys. I bite my lip to keep from cussing up a storm like I want to. The pain fuckin’ hurts. My foot and my ass now hurt. Ike squeals with giggles as he shakes his head, clearly enjoying the show I’m putting on. Mel is trying not to giggle and I can tell, despite her covering her mouth with her hand.
I try to shift to the side a little to at least get the LEGO bricks outta my ass, knowing I’ll surely have little brick-shaped, indented bruises on my asscheeks. After a few moments of wiggling around, I finally get off the LEGOs and pant.
“That hurt!”
Ike and Mel both giggle and shake their heads. Ike climbs up in my lap, and pats my head, kissing my cheek. I’ve seen Mel do that a few times whenever Ike gets hurt, and I realize that it’s his way of ‘healing my boo-boos’. A smile lifts my lips and I shake my head, rubbing my foot with one hand as my other hand goes to Ike’s back to make sure he doesn’t fall off my lap.
“Thanks, little man.” I murmur.
Ike smiles proudly and nods fast. He kisses my cheek again and then turns ‘round in my lap, getting comfy before leaning down to play with the LEGOs some more. He’s obviously no longer interested in the fact that I got hurt. He’s off in his own little world, and that’s ok. I play with his hair, subconsciously, as I try to forget ‘bout the pain in my ass and foot, and look at Mel.
She’s smirking.
“What?” I ask.
Her smirk grows. “Guess Y/N’s threat came true.”
My eyes widen. “Fu-udge!”
She laughs. “Don’t make her mad, Negan.”
“I didn’t even think it was that serious! I mean...a LEGO? Really? She hoped I stepped on one, barefoot? I figured that wasn’t that painful. I mean, she’s so sweet. And it’s a da-ng kid’s toy!”
“Thanks for watching your language ‘round him. He’s already said the F word, trying to be like you.” Mel sighs, playfully.
“My bad, Mel.”
I have the grace to look a little embarrassed. She giggles and shakes her head.
“But, in all seriousness. Y/N is sweet...but even still...she’s got a breaking point...and after what you said to her...that was taking it too far. Even for you.” She explains.
I sigh as I fiddle with my sock. “Yea...I know...I was...I was just trying to cheer her up. You know I have a tendency to speak before I think.”
She nods and we continue talking for the next hour. During that time, Ike stops playing with his toys and curls up in my lap, even more, falling asleep. I just play with his hair and rub his back. I’ve always loved kids...even if I’ve never been able to have any of my own. And, Ike is kinda like my nephew in a way, even if I’m not related to him or Mel.
There’s still that bond there. Mel’s one of the few people I actually consider a friend. Twenty minutes after Ike’s fallen asleep and my ass is completely numb from sitting on the LEGOs and the concrete floor, Mel gently takes him, and I stand.
“You know what you need to do, Neegs. Go talk to her.” She says, giving me a pointed look.
I nod, knowing she’s right. She gives me a hug before leaving the classroom to go lay him down. I make my way over to my stuff by the door. My foot is still killing me, and it’s making me limp just a little. I decide to forgo putting my boots back on, taking a hold of them with my jacket and Lucille tucked under my arm.
I walk down the hallways and up to the door I know you’re behind. Taking a deep breath, I knock on it three times.
“Go away!” You holler from the other side.
Shaking my head, I gently open the door and step inside. “Sweetheart?”
My eyes search the room until I find you curled up in the bed. Your eyes meet mine and you turn over on your side, facing away from me, grunting in protest at seeing me. I close the door, set my boots, jacket, and Lucille down, and walk over to the side of the bed you’re facing, a limp still slightly present.
Fuckin’ LEGOs. Carefully kneeling down so I’m in front of you, I tuck a strand of (Y/H/C) hair behind your ear.
“Sweetheart...I’m sorry. I was an ass.” I start.
You sigh and roll your eyes, looking anywhere but at me.
“You know...outta all the times I’ve ever been threatened....yours was the only one that’s ever been followed through.”
This gets your attention and a smile spreads across your face as you try not to giggle and your eyes widen.
“Really?” You whisper.
I nod. “Mmhhmm...Fuckin’ LEGOs hurt when you step on them...and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna have several LEGO shaped bruises on my right asscheek for the next couple weeks.”
You crack up laughing at that, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you shake your head.
“I don’t believe you.”
I laugh. “You wanna see? I’ll show you my ass right here, right now. It’s true.”
I stand and start to unbuckle my belts and pants, keeping my eyes on yours. You sit up and watch. I shake my head, smirking. I should’ve known that you’d actually want to see. Turning ‘round so my ass is facing you, I drop my pants down to my thighs, not even worrying ‘bout boxers since I went to commando today.
Your laugh cuts through the room, and even though, hearing you laugh is worth it. I feel your hand reach out and smack my ass, right over the spot that has the LEGO impressions. I jump and let out a quiet squeak and turn ‘round, playfully glaring at you, tugging my pants back up and buckling them and my belts.
“Told you. And, that fuckin’ hurt.”
You giggle. “Sorry, not sorry. What you said to me a few days ago. That hurt. That smack was payback.”
I bite my lip. That’s fair, I suppose. I sit on the bed, well more like I lounge on it, keeping my ass off the bed, and look at you for a brief moment before dropping my gaze. My fingers play with the comforter, and I watch them before finally looking up at you.
“I’m sorry. I really fuckin’ am. I took it too far and I shouldn’t have. I just wanted to make you smile. I know you’ve been having a rough couple of weeks and you wouldn’t tell me ‘bout it. I shouldn’t have joked like that. And I’m sorry. I’ve been kicking my own ass for the last several days ‘cause of what I said.” I swallow deeply as the last word leaves my lips.
“That just hit too close to home...and I was working on something to surprise you and that...it...you ruined the surprise by saying what you did. I shouldn’t have threatened you or yelled at you in front of your men, and I’m sorry ‘bout that, but I was just so pissed off.” Your eyes meet mine. “You know I’d never actually want you to get hurt.”
I reach over and take your hand in mine, rubbing my thumb over your knuckles.
“I know, baby. I know. And, you know you’re the only one who can get away with yelling at me like that…’cept for maybe Ike. That kid could murder someone and I wouldn’t punish him.” I chuckle and bring your hand up to softly brush my lips across your knuckles. “I’m sorry, baby. Forgive me?”
You sigh and I smile as I hear the playfulness in it.
“I suppose I could...but only because I love the father of my child.”
My brow furrows. “What?”
You smirk and your eyes light up. “You heard me, Boss Man.”
“I know I heard you...but what? Father of your child? Baby, I’m the only one you love.”
“Mmmm...not anymore. I love someone else.”
My heart breaks despite my brain vaguely processing the teasing tone of your voice.
“S-s-someone else?” I whisper, my heart racing in my chest as it feels like an elephant just sat on top of me.
You grin and nod. “Mmhhmm.”
“Who the fuck is he? I’ll…”
My words die off in my throat. I could never harm anything or anyone that made you happy. I slowly lower your hand and go back to picking at the fuzz on the blanket.
“I don’t want you to leave me...but if...if he...if he makes you happy...then...I guess I’ll just have to deal with it.” I mumble, no longer confident, cocky, or any of my usual self. “Just...can I at least meet the guy who’s stealing my wife away?”
My voice threatens to crack as I ask that. I’ve loved you for years. Since Lucille passed away. You were always there for me after I lost her. After she died...you were there to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart. And while it took me a while to let you in...I eventually did. I fell. Hard and fast. For you. We ended our old life, our old world together and started our new one, in this new fucked up world, together.
Almost a year after Lucille passed, and the dead started walking, we ran across a dying priest who could tell we were in love and offered to marry us in exchange for us putting him outta his misery before he could die from the walker bite on his shoulder. We’d decided then and there, almost like a spur of the moment “Let’s go to Vegas and get married” decision, to take him up on his offer.
He wanted to do one last good thing before he died. With his last few breaths of life, he’d pronounced us man and wife. I’d slid my knife out and gently put the old man outta his misery and thanked him for what he’d done for us. You and I were married and we left to find somewhere safe. That was when we’d stumbled across the Sanctuary.
We turned it into our home, had our “honeymoon”, and started our married life together. I took over as leader and you were my Queen. Was and always will be. Yes, I had a “harem” of four women, but they were all women I’d taken in at your insistence. I never fucked them.
Never touched them unless it was a comforting hug when they were having a rough day.
Never looked at them more than the way an older, protective brother looks at his younger sisters, making sure they’re ok.
You were all I wanted and all I needed. I only did it to make you happy and because you’d explained that they wouldn’t survive on their own out there. I took them in, protected them, and gave them everything they wanted. I even allowed them to have a relationship with whoever they wanted, as long as they were discreet.
Sherry had Dwight, her husband from before. Amber had Mark, a boyfriend that I couldn’t remember if he was before or not. Tanya and Frankie ended up together which was good for them since they were both unable to be themselves and express who they wanted to be with before the world ended.
I just didn’t want them to get hurt. I came to care for them like the sisters I’d never had growing up. And you did too. As the years passed and the population of the Sanctuary grew, you stayed by my side, and we ruled together. You were the lightness to my darkness. The Yin to my Yang. Fuck all those cliches; they were true. You -
“Negan Alexander Morgan.”
Your voice cuts off my thoughts and I slowly lift my head and look at you, biting my lip, begging the tears in my eyes not to fall. You’re the only one who gets to see me like this. I swallow deeply and lean into your touch as you place your palm against my cheek. I close my eyes and try to savor the feeling of your hand against my skin.
“I’m not leaving you.”
My eyes fly open as I look at you, confused. “But…you said you love someone else…?”
You nod and softly stroke your thumb back and forth over my cheekbone, just under my eye.
“I do. And, I know you’ll love them too. As for meeting them...well..that’s gonna have to wait ‘bout another 7 months or so.” You smile.
“Why...why do I have to wait so long? How do you know I’ll love them?”
You reach your other hand forward, taking mine in yours and drag it over to your tummy. You place my fingers flat against your stomach over my old band t-shirt. I blink several times, still confused as fuck.
“Negan. I know you’re gonna love them…‘cause you love any kid and you always said you’d love your own.”
My eyes widen and I sit up quickly as I finally process what you’re saying. Keeping my hand on your tummy, my eyes meet yours.
“You...we...there’s...a baby?” I stumble over my words.
You giggle and nod. “Mmhhmm. Carson confirmed it last week. I haven’t been feeling well ‘cause mornin’ sickness has been kicking my ass. And I was gonna surprise you when we got home from the run...but you and your damn mouth ruined it.”
I swallow deeply. “I”m so, so fuckin’ sorry, baby.”
“I know. And, you can stop apologizing. You’re forgiven.”
I lean forward and kiss you softly, murmuring against your lips. “You’re too good for me, (Y/N).”
You giggle and shake your head. “No, Negan. You’re too good for me. And you’re gonna be a damn good father too.”
I smile and kiss you again before resting my forehead against yours. My fingers stroke your tummy gently.
“Well...as the father of your...our child...I have one stipulation for the kid. He can have whatever he fuckin’ wants and I’ll die trying to get it for him.”
You playfully swat my shoulder. “Shut up, old man. You ain’t dying till you’re good and ready. You wear a leather jacket, you have Lucille, and your nutsack is made of steel, so you ain’t dying for at least another 50 years. You’ll be over 100 before you do.”
I laugh and kiss your head. “My nutsack is strong!…’specially considering I finally knocked you up! And, I ain’t an old man! I’m only 52!”
You laugh and roll your eyes. “Shut up, babe. What’s your stipulation for our child?”
I smirk. “No fuckin’ LEGOs. He can have anything else in the world. But no fuckin’ LEGOs. My foot and ass are gonna hurt for days.”
You giggle. “Awwwww. Poor baby! Do I need to kiss it and make it feel better?”
I laugh. “You wanna kiss my ass, babygirl, you go right ahead. But our kid ain’t getting LEGOs. Those fuckers hurt. And remind me to never piss you off again. Your threats are violent.”
“You love me anyway!”
I grin. “Yea. I do love you. That much is abso-fuckin’-lutely true!”
Authors note: This chapter may be triggering for some people and if it is i’m sorry i don't tolerate physical or mental abuse in any way shape or form.
Relationship: Negan x Lucille (MY!!! OC)
Luckily Lucille couldn’t get pregnant because Jake had raped her many times that night leaving multiple bruises on her body. She just lied there and took it, with a tear falling from her eye and she just bit into her lip until it bled. She had had sex many times but the way he did it it hurt so much but he had raped her so often that she just got used to it. It’s what he called her punishment for disobeying him. He always told her that she deserved it and he beat her bloody and raped her until she couldn’t feel her legs.
That wasn’t love and she knew it, she couldn’t even remember what love felt like anymore and she wasn’t used to compassion or sweetness from a partner. A week later She woke up feeling terribly soar all over Jake had abused her terribly within that week. She sighed as she got out of bed and as usual she was naked and her body was covered in bruises.
She had a shower and scrubbed her skin so she felt clean but no matter how hard she scrubbed she always felt dirty. In between her legs felt soar and her thighs were badly bruised. She put on a pair of comfortable baggy jeans, an oversized grey shirt and she tied her hair into a bun. She laced up her black combat boots with the red roses on them. She stood up checking herself in the mirror and saw the cut on her lip and the bruise on the side of her face.
Seeing herself like that made her feel sick, she pulled out her bun so her long black hair covered her face. She didn’t want the others to know what was going on because she didn’t want to be a burden. Rick had left with Aaron to find supplies for Negan and Michonne had gone out to clear her head. Lucille stepped outside of her house and walked down the steps, she paused for a second and walked down the street. She felt soar when she walked but she hid it the best she could and she just kept her head down.
No one noticed so far and she was glad that she could hide it so well. She heard the sound of trucks at the gate and she guessed it was the saviours. Negan was excited to be back so he could see Lucille or as he called her tiger lily. Well he had to bring Carl home and experience what it was like to live at Alexandria for a day. But most of all he wanted to make sure that tiger lily was ok, he knew something was up with her boyfriend.
The trucks drove into the gates and pulled to a halt, the drivers killed the engines. Negan stepped out of the white truck with a huge dimpled smile. He swung Lucille up on his shoulder and Carl stepped out of the truck. Carl’s shot out eye was exposed and he carried his hat in his hands. Jake walked up to Negan feeling ‘brave’ “what the hell are you doing here?” Negan chuckled “oh look who it is, fuck face” Jake crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. Negan pushed past Jake without saying a word and Carl followed behind to his house. Lucille was sitting on one of the bench’s in the garden having a coffee when she spotted Negan and Carl.
Her eyebrows furrowed, what is he doing here? She thought as Negan knocked on the door of Rick and Michonne’s house. Lucille got up from the bench and walked to her house luckily it was empty. A few minutes later she heard a loud knock at the door. She covered her face with her hair and opened the door to be greeted with Negan’s huge smile.
Lucille was beyond surprised “Negan what are you doing here?” She asked shyly, “I thought I would come and fucking see my tiger lily.” Lucille blushed prettily making him smile wider “so are you gonna let me the fuck in?” Lucille moved to the side and Negan strode in and placed Lucille next to the door. “Do you want something to drink? I have whiskey” Lucille said walking into the kitchen. “Fuck yes I would love some whiskey” Negan said excitedly as he sat down on her couch. She got two glasses out of the top cupboard above the sink and the whiskey that was next to them.
She walked into the living room, the glasses chinked as she set them down on the wooden coffee table in front of the couch. Lucille opened the whiskey bottle and poured the amber coloured liquid into both of the glasses. She handed it to him with a soft smile and he returned her smile. She was glad that he hadn’t seen her bruises on her face but he noticed the cut on her lip. Lucille sat down next to him and took a sip from her glass feeling the burn from the hard liquor going down her throat.
“So how fucking long have you lived here?” Negan asked looking around her living room and then back to her. “Only for a few months we only found this place a while ago, Rick found me a little after this all started.” Negan was interested in her, not just because she looked just like her and neared her name. He was interested in her story and he wanted to get to know her a little better. “How did you find fuck face doll?” He chuckled as she instantly turned her head towards him.
“Well I met him here and I figured what’s wrong with a fresh start.” Negan noticed the uncomfortable shift in her posture “is he good to you?” He asked wanting her to look at him. “Negan I don’t even know you so why should I fucking tell you? But yes he is good enough to me if you wanted to know.”
She knocked back the rest of her drink and didn’t realise that her hair had fallen from her face. Negan’s eyes widened in anger as he saw the large bruise that covered most of the left side of her face. He moved his right hand to her face to cup her cheek gently. She flinched a little at his touch but didn’t withdraw. “Did he fucking do this to you?” He wasn’t really asking because he already knew something was up. “No I..I just fell over while walking down the stairs” she lied as she felt his hazel eyes boring into hers.
He knew she was lying he could tell by the way she flinched when he went to cup her cheek. “Don’t fucking lie to me tiger lily” he said gently but firmly “y..yes he d..did this to me.” She moved her face away from his hand so she could look away from him. Negan immediately felt rage and sadness that she had been hurt so badly by someone who was supposed to love her.
She looked back at him with tears in her eyes, no matter how much she tried to hold them back they just came. “H..he’s been doing it for a while and he’s r…raped me too more than once.” Negan cupped her cheek again and stroked her cheek lightly with his thumb and sighed quietly. Negan didn’t tolerate men who hit women and most of all men who raped them. “I’m gonna fucking kill that fucker” he said gritting his teeth “no Negan it’s not your problem, plus you hardly know me.” Negan’s eyes dropped to the floor and then he looked back up to her. “I know I don’t but I don’t tolerate this shit in any fucking shape or form and you remind me of someone.”
“Negan you have to go”she said firmly “Why?” He replied when he knew why. “Because I don’t know you and you don’t know me, you killed my friends and if Jake finds out you know what he’ll do.” “That’s why I want you to fucking come with me” he said raising his voice a little higher. “No, now will you just fucking go?” She practically pushed him out the door. “Don’t come back here” he heard her say as he rested Lucille on his shoulder. “Oh don’t worry I won’t” he called back with a smirk on his face and he knew that she knew he was being sarcastic.
A few minutes later she was in the kitchen when she heard the front door open and close she knew it was Jake. “Lu where are you?” He called from the door “I…I’m here Jake” she called from the kitchen. She heard his footsteps and she was terrified of what he would do to her. He stopped in the doorway of the kitchen just staring at her “I saw him near you again.” Lucille’s heart stopped oh shit I’m dead she thought as she tried to find an excuse in her head. “He was just saying hello we weren’t doing anything I swear” her voice shook slightly.
He walked up to her until they were a breath apart “you’re not to go near him again is that understood?” Lucille nodded and her eyes fell to the floor as some relief fled through her. She knew he wouldn’t let her off that easy and she was right when she felt his hands grasping her waist roughly. “Turn around” He whispered into her ear but she didn’t listen she couldn’t tale this anymore. “I said turn around” he spat “no” she answered back “what did you just fucking say to me?” She pushed his hands away and backed away from him “I SAID NO!” She yelled.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME YOU LITTLE WHORE!” He yelled back as she backed away a little further. “I’M NOT GONNA BE YOUR FUCK TOY ANYMORE THAT YOU CAN JUST USE AND ABUSE!” Jake laughed loudly “oh you will be my fuck toy because you’re my little cum dumpster.” Lucille walked up to him and punched him in the face so hard he stumbled backwards. She knew she would be dead for that, he lifted his fist and it connected with her jaw making her fall to the ground. She tasted blood in her mouth as she struggled to get up but she did. “I’M NOT YOUR ANY FUCKING THING JAKE NOT ANYMORE!” she screamed as she tried to run away but her caught her and held her tightly in his arms.
She struggled as grabbed her hair and slammed her against the wall and wrapped his fingers around her throat. She dug her nails into his wrists but he wouldn’t budge as he was squeezing the life out of her. She kicked him right in the balls and she fell to the floor gasping and coughing. She pushed her self up only to be pulled back by him, he punched her in the stomach then the jaw. He then slapped her in the face so hard she felt dizzy, he threw her on the ground. She dragged herself across the ground as she heard him walk back, she screamed as she felt a knife go into her side.
“This is what you fucking deserve you little bitch!” He yelled, then suddenly the door burst open and standing there was Negan. Lucille’s eyes were half lidded as blood poured from her wound. “YOU FUCKING CUNT!” Negan yelled as he bashed Jakes brains in as she lay there watching. Once Jakes brains were turned to liquid Negan ran over to her “come on baby, you’re gonna be alright.” He ripped a piece of her shirt off, Lucille cried out in agony as he toed it tightly around her stomach to stop the bleeding. He placed his arm under her thighs and she wrapped her arm around his neck as he picked her up in his arms. She felt her head spinning and Negan’s face was the last thing she saw before she blacked out.
Summary: You never were one of his students, but you still stopped to see Negan every mornin’ while you waited for the bus to take you from the normal high school to the high school you went to. The two of y’all were best friends, and still are, even now that you’re off at college. Negan was married, a father of two kids, a little boy and a little girl, and a teacher. He was off limits to you, and you were off limits to him. Or so y’all thought. So, y’all never did anything. When things change, why should Negan deny his feelings for you, and vice versa? There’s not a thing stopping him now, so he does what he wants to, and has wanted to do for years. And you can’t believe it. :)
Warning(s): Explicit language. Angry Negan. Protective Negan. Caring Negan. Loving Negan. Father Negan. Fluff. Also, the wives aren’t a thing in this story; Negan’s in the process of being a divorced man from Lucille.
Author’s Note(s):
I know the original storyline has it where Negan cheats on Lucille and she dies from cancer...but this is my story, and I’m changing that shit up. Negan ain’t the cheater...Lucille is...and she doesn’t die...but Negan finally has enough of it.
Also, sorry I ain’t posted much here lately. I’ve been home for the summer from college, and since I’m staying with my grandma, she doesn’t have internet, so I can’t post stories as often as I’d like. I can reblog things from my phone...but posting a 1,800+ word fic? That’s a bit hard and my phone doesn’t like to work to let me do it. But, just know I’m still here, and you’re always welcome to send me a message/ask.
Another thing, if you’ve sent me a request for a story, I promise I ain’t ignoring it or you. I just gotta figure out the best way to type it up and then post it when I can.
As always, if you wanna be added to my tag list, just let me know! :)
Relationship(s): Negan x Lucille (Husband/Wife --> Soon-to-be Ex-Husband/Ex-Wife). Negan x Reader (Eventual Romantic). Negan x Simon (Best Friends). Negan x Son (Father/Son). Negan x Daughter (Father/Daughter)
Characters: Negan. Lucille. Reader. Simon. Mention of kids.
“God dammit, Negan. What the fuck do you mean you’re getting a divorce?” Simon yells.
“Shut the fuck up, Simon. I mean just what I fuckin’ said. Lucille and I are getting a divorce. I’m not happy anymore and it’s fuckin’ killing me. You fuckin’ know this. And, you know how she’s fuckin’ treated me over the years!” Negan explains, his voice laced with exasperation, frustration, and hurt.
“Yea. I know. But, what about the kids?”
“What ‘bout ‘em? I’m still gonna fuckin’ be there for ‘em. They’re my damn kids, Si! I ain’t gonna do what my old man did, and abandon ‘em! They’re gonna be living with me. Lucille don’t want ‘em with her all the fuckin’ time. Says they keep her from fuckin’ who-the-fuck-ever she wants to. Plus, it’ll be a whole hell of a lot fuckin’ better for ‘em ‘cause they won’t have to be ‘round the toxic as fuck relationship between their mama and I.”
“Are you doing this because of that damn girl?”
“Who the fuck are you talking about? What girl?” Negan hesitates for a second. “Are you talkin’ ‘bout (Y/N)? MY (Y/N)?”
Simon nods. “That girl.”
Negan takes a deep breath in, his fist clenching, and steps closer to his best friend that happens to be like a brother to him. “Listen here, and you better fuckin’ listen closely, Simon. She is not just “That girl”. Got it? She is not a girl. She is a fuckin’ lovely young woman. I will not have you disrespecting the fuck outta her like that. Do you fuckin’ understand me?”
Simon doesn’t say anything, but rather, he just looks in his buddy’s eyes and sees the honesty there.
“Do you, Simon?” Negan asks again, making sure the other man understands him.
Simon nods. “I fuckin’ got it, Neegs. God. I’ll be fuckin’ damned. You really do love her.”
“Hell fuckin’ yes, I fuckin’ love her. How the fuck could I not? Hmm? She’s sweet. Funny as hell. Smart. Beautiful…she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever fuckin’ met. Great with the kids. And, she’s strong as hell. Stronger than me or you. Both mentally and physically. She is so fuckin’ wonderful. All the way around. And, she deserves to be respected. Which is something you’ve yet to do in the four fuckin’ years you’ve known her. And, even then, you still don’t even know her. Not like I fuckin’ do. You just see her in passing and assume bad things about her.”
Simon shrugs. “Yea. So? What’s your fuckin’ point, Negan? She’s just some young fuckin’ thing looking for a damn sugar daddy and she’s got father issues herself. She’s latched onto you.”
The salt-and-peppered man shoves the balding man in front of him. “Shut the fuck up, Simon! Seriously. Do you fuckin’ hear yourself, man? I swear, you have no honest to God respect for anyone – not even your-damn-self. You get to know her like I fuckin’ know her, and then try telling me what you just said. And, as a head’s up, you ever say that bullshit again, and I’ll fuckin’ punch you so damn hard that horrendous porn stache of yours will come off your fuckin’ face. For real. Got it?”
Simon just stays quiet for a few minutes. He lowers his head and looks at the tiled ground beneath his black boots.
“I just had to see how much you really loved her. Make sure you weren’t blinded on this, Negan.” Simon says, lifting his head and looking his best friend in the eyes. “I know you love the holy hell outta her. Ok? I could see it on your face every time she walked down the hall, or you heard her name mentioned somewhere. I could tell it from the way your voice got lighter and happier when I heard you talking to her in the mornings. I could tell it in the way you hugged her; you would hug her closer than anyone else, except for the kids. You hugged her like she was the life ring thrown out to you in a drowning sea. I could tell in the way you glanced at her as she walked away in the mornings. Your eyes held a softness, a burning passion for a love that you could never have. I know you love her. I just had to see how much you loved her.”
“Why the hell would you do that to me?” Negan’s normally deep voice cracks. “I love the fuckin’ bejesus outta her. And, yet. I can never fuckin’ have her. She’ll never be mine. She could never love a fuckin’ old man like me.”
“Shut the hell up, Negan. Ok? You may not see it, but dammit, Neegs, she loves you too. I know she does. Every morning you weren’t here when she had to leave, she was so sad and her shoulders drooped as she walked outta the building, missing you by a few moments. When I saw her waiting by your door every morning, she would look up with pure hope that the next person to walk through those double doors would be you. I saw her face light up when it really was you that walked in. I saw her try to hide that little happy grin whenever you looked at her. I saw her blush and just look ten times lighter and happier. I could tell in the way she took her steps to get closer to you. They weren’t slow and sluggish, but they weren’t hurried. They were peaceful steps. I’ve seen her flinch when anyone else would come near her, and watched her shrink away if someone said something too loudly.”
He pauses. “But, with you, Negan, I saw her lean into your touch, hardly ever flinch when you got too close to her, and not once did she shy away from you. I could tell in the way she hugged back. She hugged you like you could be gone in the next second and she wanted to treasure what she could with you. She hugged you…Neegs, man, she hugged you like Tim McGraw hugs Faith Hill after they sing a damn duet together on stage.”
Simon smiles. “I know she loves you because every time someone mentioned your name, she would light up and hide that grin so as to not give it away. I noticed it from the way she would always turn around one last time before she left just to see you one more time when she thought no one was watching.”
The slightly younger man reaches up and places his hand on his brother’s leather-clad shoulder. Negan’s got tears running down his cheeks, getting lost in the salt-and-pepper scruff lining his jaw, lips, and chin.
“Neegs, she loves you. And, I know in a heartbeat, she’d be your girl if you just fuckin’ ask her. You deserve to be happy. I know that just as well as you fuckin’ do. She does too. And, you both make each other happy.” Simon says.
“Why were you always so fuckin’ rude to her?” Negan asks quietly.
“Because...I was jealous. Ok? You had her love and you didn’t even fuckin’ know it. And, she had yours, but she didn’t know it either. I wanted what you two had, hell, still fuckin’ have. That’s why.”
“She really fuckin’ loves me?”
Simon nods, smiling. “She really fuckin’ loves you. Just as much, if not more, as you love her.”
“I have to go talk to her, before it’s too damn late. I have to go to fuckin’ Kentucky.”
“Go, Negan. Go. I’ll watch the youngins this weekend. Lucille will let ‘em come over to my house and hang out with my kids. You know this. Go get your girl. Don’t let her walk away this time.”
Negan smiles that cute little dimpled smile of his that always had you grinning from ear to ear. Simon hugs his best friend tightly.
Negan sucks in a deep breath – probably the deepest he’s ever taken in – as he goes to turn the truck off. Sliding the keys into his pocket, he places a shaky hand on the door handle and opens the truck door.
He slides outta the truck and leans against it after closing the door. He pulls his phone out and thumbs through his contacts till he gets to your name. He presses the “Call” button.
“Hello?” You ask, hesitantly, not sure why he’s calling you.
“(Y/N). It’s Negan.” He says, a little nervous, something he ain’t been since he was a damn teenager, over 30 years ago.
He can hear the smile in your voice as you say “I know it’s you, silly. I just wasn’t expecting you to call me.”
Negan chuckles. “Yea…Well…I needed to talk to you.”
You hesitate. “What’s wrong?”
He takes a deep breath. “Nothing. Not a damn thing is wrong at the moment. Are you busy?”
“I just need to step outside my dorm real quick. Give me a few minutes.”
He smiles. “That’s fine. Take your time. I don’t mind waiting.”
You slide your shoes on and make your way outside to the front porch of your residence hall.
“Ok. I’m out-.” You stop talking as you look over to the hotel parking lot.
Standing there, underneath the streetlight, is a truck you hadn’t seen in several months.
“Negan?” You ask, quietly, the phone still pressed to your ear, clutched in your hand like a lifeline, and a stabilizer to try to assure you that you’re not dreaming.
“I’m right here, darlin’. I’m not going any-fuckin’-where.” He says, softly.
You walk over to the truck. Negan’s heart starts beating faster, beating against his ribcage and his breathing picks up. You stop in front of him. He looks down at you, with a small smile tugging at his lips.
You look up at him in shock.
“You’re here?” You murmur.
He nods. “I’m here.”
You drop your phone into the pocket of your jersey shorts and fling your arms ‘round him, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms ‘round his neck. He just curls his arms ‘round you and holds you close to his chest.
You start crying as you hug him. You weren’t expecting to see him this soon, or at all, honestly. He runs his fingers through your hair.
“Shhh, darlin’. It’s ok. I’m here. I promise.” Negan assures you, softly, as you cling to him.
After several minutes, you lift your head and he wipes the tears away as he gazes down at you, cupping your cheek with his large hand.
“What are you doin’ here?” You ask.
“I told you…I wanted to talk to you.” He says.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, darlin’. Nothing at all. I just have to tell you something.”
Summary: You’ve been dealing with shoulder pain for years now, stemming from multiple shoulder injuries as you grew up. Your doctor had told you that in order to keep from further damaging your shoulder, you’d have to wear a certain brace, every day, that would help offer stability, compression, and support to your weakened joint. You’d gotten your most recent one a few months before the apocalypse started. That was two years ago. Now, the time has come where you need to get a new one, which is easier said than done. ‘Specially since you’ve managed to hide your injuries from everyone, including Negan, save for your best friend for years. Eventually, Negan finds out ‘bout your predicament and offers to help in any way he can.
Warning(s): Explicit language. Angry Negan. Protective Negan. Caring Negan. Slight sexual harassment. Slight beating with Lucille. Fluff. Also, the wives aren’t a thing in this story; Negan’s a single man.
Author’s Note(s):
So…first, I’m kinda, only partially sorry that this is such a long fic, but I couldn’t get what I wanted to across if it was short. Plus, that just means that there’s more Cute Negan, which is always a plus, right?
I just came up with this after realizing that I’m gonna have to wear a shoulder brace for a long while in order to try and fix my shoulder. After nearly wearing a brace for two years on my hand, I know what it’s like, and boy, it’s rough. But it is what it is. You do what you gotta do to get better, right?
I know that TWD depicts Negan as a badass who doesn’t give a shit, and quite a few fanfics do too, and that’s perfectly ok. But, me being the hopeless romantic that I am, I try to find the good in everyone, even when they’re a bat-wielding lunatic in a zombie apocalypse. Life is rough, and when you go through shit, it changes a person. That part’s true. But, I still like to believe that no matter how bad something changes you, there’s still some good left in you, and it just takes the right person or circumstances to bring it out again.
The relationship between the reader and the reader’s best friend is strictly platonic. And the relationship between Negan and the reader starts out platonic, turns into a friendship with a hint of flirtiness to it, and it might turn into something more. ;)
Also, another thing that I’m sure you already know, but I just wanna clarify:
Y/N = Your name
Y/B/F/N = Your best friend’s first name
Relationship(s): Reader’s best Friend (Female) x Reader. Reader x Negan.
Characters: Negan. Lucille – the Baseball Bat. Reader. Reader’s Best Friend. Arthur (Original Male Character). Frank (Original Male Character). Jason (Original Male Character). Simon.
As soon as you feel the looseness ‘round your shoulder, you sigh. You knew this day was going to happen, but you’d hoped you could push it off for as long as possible. You drop the wrench in your hand and hear it softly clang against the top of the engine.
You pull the collar of your shirt away using your right hand and glance down your shirt. What you see confirms your thoughts, well fears really. Your shoulder brace has finally broken. It’s been on its last strands for a few months now, but since it’s your only one, it’s not like you couldn’t not use it.
You let your shirt fall back into place as you step away from the broken down pickup truck in front of you. You look ‘round for your boss, and see his feet peeking out from underneath the Honda Civic two cars over. You tread, carefully and softly, over to him.
If you walk too fast, it’ll jostle your arm too much, and that’s the last thing you need right now. Plus, you like to be quiet when you walk, so you normally walk as carefully as you can.
“Hey, Arthur?” You ask your boss, quietly, once you reach him.
“Yea?” He inquires, still under the vehicle.
“Um…I gotta run back to my room real quick. Is that ok?”
He slides out from under the Civic and looks at you, confused.
“Have you finished fixing the engine on the truck yet?” He asks, wiping his forehead, and effectively smearing oil and grease across it.
Normally, you’d shake your head, but even that small of a movement causes a lot of pain to shoot through your shoulder and entire arm. Instead, you give him a verbal answer.
“No, sir. Not yet. It’s almost fixed, though.” You say.
He sighs. “Finish it, then you can go to your room to do what you need.”
“Sir. Please. I can’t finish it till after I go to my room. It’s an emergency.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “You disobeying an order, (Y/N)?”
‘Not intentionally, sir. But please. I promise I’ll finish when I get back.”
“No. You’re going to finish it now. And that’s final.”
“Yes, sir.”
You sigh, trying not to let the tears you feel welling up in your eyes fall. You can feel the tingling in the tips of your fingers and you know that’s not good. If you had the brace working like it was supposed to, you’d be fine. You wouldn’t feel the tingling, or the numbness that’s ‘bout to start in the next few minutes.
Arthur slides back under the car, getting back to his task. Turning on your heel, you make your way back over to the truck. Grabbing the wrench in your right hand, you struggle as you try to get back to work. You can’t focus on your task ‘cause of the pain now radiating throughout your entire left arm, and spreading to your chest.
This would be faster and better if you had the brace. Then you could use your dominant hand. One of the other guys you work with walks behind you, and snaps your bra strap against your injured shoulder. You let out a scream of pain and this time, can’t help the tears that escape.
You hunch over the engine in pain as the wrench that was in your hand clatters to the floor.
“What the fuck is goin’ on in here?”
You try to force yourself to stand up as soon as you hear that voice. His voice. But, you can’t. You’re in too much pain. You hear the heavy footfalls as they move from the opposite end of the garage to closer where you are. They stop a few feet from you.
On your left side. You feel a heavy hand on your left shoulder, which just makes you cry out again. It’s too much. The hand jerks back.
“What the fuck?” You hear him ask again. “Doll?”
You turn your head to the left and look at him. He’s clad in his signature leather jacket, with a white t-shirt underneath, dark grey jeans tucked in his boots, and Lucille dangling from his fingers. Your eyes slowly lift to meet his. His facial expression is one of anger, hurt, and confusion.
You try to push yourself up into a standing position once more, using your right hand. Your left arm is just dangling by your side, completely useless. Once you’re standing, you lower your eyes from Negan’s. You prop yourself up against the front of the truck.
“Please don’t touch me.” You mumble.
“Well, shit. My bad. I won’t fuckin’ touch you if you don’t want me to. I was just trying to fuckin’ see if you were ok.” He says.
You want to say yes, but he’d know you were lying, and he doesn’t tolerate liars. He’s made that obvious in the year and a half you’ve lived at Sanctuary.
“No, sir.” You mumble, honestly, and through gritted teeth.
“I can fuckin’ see that. What the fuck happened?” He asks.
You hesitate, and you can tell that he’s starting to get even more pissed off.
“Doll? I’m waiting.” He says. “And, I don’t like to wait.”
“One of the guys snapped my bra strap against my shoulder.” You say.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who did it?” He presses.
“I don’t know, sir. I was working, and had my back turned. I didn’t see who did it.”
You glance up at him. He looks livid. Turning ‘round on his heel, he addresses the entire garage.
“I want every single one of your fuckers over here. Now!” He bellows.
Immediately, all fifteen of the men that work in the garage with you are standing ‘round Negan. The men all stand there, slightly nervous as to what the boss man could want.
“Which one of you assholes snapped this beautiful young lady’s bra strap?” Negan inquires.
No one answers. You glance down to see his fingers tighten ‘round Lucille’s handle.
“I do believe I fuckin’ asked y’all a fuckin’ question, and I fuckin’ expect a fuckin’ answer!” Negan raises his voice.
The men all look ‘round. You notice that one of the men, Frank looks slightly nervous and he tries to hide Jason. Negan must notice it too ‘cause he raises Lucille in Frank’s direction.
“You! Get your ass over here.” He hisses.
Frank slinks up to the front of the group and stands in front of Negan. Lucille is directly in front of his chest, and you guess that Negan presses her further against him, ‘cause Frank lets out a wince.
“Did you do it?” Negan asks.
Frank hesitates.
“Did you fuckin’ do it?” Negan repeats, pushing Lucille further into Frank’s chest.
The barbed wire pierces the fabric of the shirt he’s wearing. Frank grunts in pain.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, asshole.” Negan says. “I’ve already asked twice.”
Frank still doesn’t say anything.
“Did. You. Fuckin’. Do. It?” Negan asks.
“Yes, sir.” Frank replies quietly.
Negan pulls Lucille back. In one quick motion, before you can even take a deep breath in, you watch as Lucille comes down against Frank’s right kneecap. The man crumples to the floor, staring up at Negan.
“You know we don’t fuckin’ do that shit here! We treat women with respect!” Negan bellows.
“Yes, sir! I’m sorry, sir!” Frank pleads, grasping his injured leg with both hands.
“Don’t fuckin’ do it again. Otherwise, you won’t like the consequences very much. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir! Crystal!”
“Good. Everyone else get back to work.”
Negan turns to look at you. You've slouched over the engine again, holding your right hand to your left shoulder, trying to ease the pain, but it’s not working.
“You ok, doll?” He asks for the second time since he walked in.
“No, sir.” You mumble.
“C’mon. You’re excused from work. You’re coming with me.”
“I can’t, sir.”
“And why the fuck not?”
“I have to finish workin’ on the engine.”
“You can’t fuckin’ work if you’re not fuckin’ ok. And, I can clearly fuckin’ tell you’re not.”
“Yes, sir.”
You know it’s pointless to try to argue with him. He holds his free hand out to you. He’s giving you the chance to take it, so he doesn’t overstep his boundaries. ‘Specially since you told him not to touch you. He might be a ruthless, bat-wielding leader, but he still respects women and knows when no means no.
You remove your right hand from your opposite shoulder and place in it his. A small smile slides across his face. He gently pulls you up into a standing position. At one point, he accidentally pulls too fast, which jostles your bad shoulder, making you cry out again.
He stops and looks at you. “How bad did he snap the strap, doll?”
“I’m not sure.” You reply, honestly.
It’s true. Frank could’ve done it softly, but you wouldn’t’ve been able to know. Not from the pain that erupts throughout your entire body after he did what he did.
“Well, I’m takin’ you to fuckin’ Carson, (Y/N). You shouldn’t be fuckin’ cryin’ out in that much fuckin’ pain from a snapped bra strap.” Negan says.
“I just need to go to my room. I’ll be fine.” You say.
If you go to Carson, then Carson’ll find out ‘bout your injury, and you can’t have that. You’ve managed to keep it hidden since you first met up with Negan after the world went to shit. There’s only one person in the Sanctuary that knows, and that’s your best friend, (Y/B/F/N).
“Like hell. You’re fuckin’ goin’ to Carson.” Negan says.
You look up at him. “Please, sir. Just let me go to my room. I just need to go there and have (Y/B/F/N) there too.”
He stares at you, hard, for a minute. He finally sighs.
“Fine.” He relents.
He tucks Lucille under his arm and reaches for the radio that’s clipped to his belt.
“Simon. Get (Y/B/F/N) and bring her to me. I’m leaving the garage now.” He says into the radio.
“Yes, Boss.” Simon’s reply comes through.
Negan tucks the radio back onto his belt. He looks at you.
“Let’s go.” He says.
You walk beside him as y’all start to leave the garage. Arthur tries to stop you, since you haven’t finished working on the truck’s engine, but Negan quickly shuts him up. As soon as y’all are outside of the garage, you see Simon standing next to your best friend.
At first, she looks nervous, but as soon as she sees you, with Negan holding onto your hand, she looks worried. You glance down at your injured shoulder, and her gaze follows yours. She quickly looks back up at you, questioningly. You nod your head, and she sighs.
“C’mon.” Negan huffs.
(Y/B/F/N) falls in line with you and Negan, who quickly dismisses Simon. Once y’all get to your room, Negan looks at you and hesitates.
“Let me know if you need anything, (Y/N).” He says before turning and walking away.
You shut your bedroom door and immediately start to take your shirt off. (Y/B/F/N) jumps in to help once she sees you struggling. Once your shirt is off, leaving you in your tank top, you sigh. She helps you remove the now completely broken, and useless, shoulder brace.
You can’t help but wince at the movements. Even though she’s being extremely careful, it still hurts. She grabs the three ACE bandages you have tucked in your dresser drawer and helps you wrap your shoulder up. Once you feel the pressure of it against your skin, you let out a pained sigh.
It hurts, but it also helps the pain. As soon as your shoulder is properly wrapped, keeping your arm pinned to your side, your best friend helps you into a clean shirt.
“Will you help me keep an eye out for a new brace?” You ask as you settle down onto your bed.
She sits down next to you. “Of course. Although, you know it might cost a lot. It is a medical thing.”
You sigh. “I know.”
“Do you think you’ll have ‘nough points if they find one?”
“I dunno. Maybe if I skip a few meals here and there, I should?”
She doesn’t like your response, but you both know that there’s nothing you can really do. You don’t really get a lot of points from your job as a mechanic, and she makes more since she has one of the better jobs. You go back to work the next day, with your shoulder wrapped.
The way (Y/B/F/N) wrapped it mimics the brace you had and allows for you to move your arm a bit. It’s not the best thing, but it’s better than nothing. A few weeks go by, and there’s still no luck of there being a shoulder brace. One day, you hear a couple of your fellow workers talking ‘bout how the Saviors had raided a physical therapist’s office.
You try not to get your hopes up at the thought of there possibly being a shoulder brace for you. You know that it’s most likely not something the Saviors would’ve picked up. But you still do. After you get off work, you head to the commissary, running into (Y/B/F/N) along the way.
The two of you head to the medical table. There you see band-aids and simple first aid supplies. Just as you’re ‘bout to give up hope on finding a shoulder brace from today’s run, you see something familiar. You quickly grab it with you good hand, letting out a quiet, yet excited, squeal.
The worker behind the table looks at you funny.
“I don’t know what that is, but it’s 700 points.” He says. “What’s your name?”
“(Y/N)” You reply, holding onto the brace.
He looks at the notebook in front of him. He sighs and looks at you.
“You only have 586 points.” He says.
You sigh. You know you need the brace, but you don’t have ‘nough points. You set it back down on the table where it was. You look for your best friend, and find her at the other end, looking at the ACE bandages.
She looks up at you. “Find one?”
You nod. “Yea…”
“And? Get it.”
“Can’t.”
“Why?”
“Don’t have ‘nough points.”
“How much is it?”
“700.” The worker says.
“Take it from my account. Along with this.” (Y/B/F/N) says.
He asks her for her name and he makes note of it in the book. Your friend hands you the brace.
“C’mon. Let’s go get this situated.” She says.
You follow her back to your room. She helps you get it situated over your tank top. Just as she’s finishing tightening it, three knocks ring out on your door.
“Just a minute.” You say.
“Open the door.”
You freeze as soon as you hear his voice. You look at your best friend.
“I gotta get my shirt on. Now.” You whisper.
She nods and looks for it. You do too. Just as she finds it, under your bed, your door opens. You freeze and so does your friend. You keep your eyes on her as you hear Negan take in a deep breath.
“Doll? What the fuck happened to your shoulder? Is that from that day?” He asks.
“No, sir.” You reply.
“Don’t lie to me.”
You look up at him after your friend nods at you as she stands up. Negan’s missing his leather jacket, his boots, and Lucille.
“I’m not lying, Negan.” You say.
“You sure?” He retorts.
You nod. “Promise. I’ve had shoulder issues since I was three. Years and years of multiple dislocated shoulders really fucks ‘em up. I’ve had to wear braces on my shoulder since I was 20. It adds pressure to the area which allows me to be able to use it a bit. Without the brace and the support it offers, my arm is useless. Without it, I’m in an extreme amount of pain.”
“Is that what was wrong that day in the garage? And why you’ve had issues moving your arm since then?”
You nod. “My brace broke that day. About two hours before you came in and dealt with Frank.”
“What have you used since then?”
“I’ve helped her wrap her shoulder up with ACE bandages every day.” (Y/B/F/N) says.
“Does it work?”
“No. Kinda. It’s not the best thing, but it’s better than nothing.” You say.
“Why didn’t you go wrap it up after the brace broke that day?”
“I tried. Arthur wouldn’t let me leave until I’d finished fixing the truck.”
“Did you tell him?”
You nod. “I told him that I had to go back to my room for an emergency. But, he said no. Not until the engine was fixed.”
“That fucker. I’ll deal with him later. But, as for you, right now, is that thing you have on right now what you need?”
You nod. “It’s actually the best one created for this purpose. It was the one my doctor strongly suggested before the world went to shit. I just never could get one of ‘em ‘cause they’re so expensive. So I always used the cheaper ones.”
“How much was that one?”
“700 points.”
“But…you don’t have that many?”
“No, sir. (Y/B/F/N) used her points to get it.”
Negan looks at your best friend. He just stares at her for a few minutes before nodding.
“Thank you.” He says, softly.
You’re shocked, and you can tell she is too, but she hides the shock quickly. Why’s he thanking her for helping you?
“It’s not a big deal. She’s my best friend, and I’d do anythin’ for her.” (Y/B/F/N) says.
Negan nods again. “I can tell. Would you mind excusing us?”
She hesitates and looks at me. Negan notices and holds his hands up.
“I promise I won’t hurt her. I’d never do that. I just need to talk to her. That’s all.” He says, softly.
You shrug, barely lifting your right shoulder up. Your friend sighs and nods, handing you your t-shirt.
“You let me know if you need anything, ok?” She asks.
“You know I will.” You reply, You taking your shirt and shaking it out so you can slip it on.
She nods and looks at Negan. “I get that you’re the leader, and I might get punished for this, but so fuckin’ help me. If you hurt her in anyway whatsoever, I will personally rip your dick and balls off, shove ‘em so far down your throat that you’ll be shitting them back out, and I will hurt you a hundred times worse than whatever you do to her.”
Negan sucks in a deep breath through his teeth. “Yes, ma’am.”
Your best friend nods and leaves your room. Negan looks at you. You hesitate now, clinging to the piece of cotton and polyester in your hand. He holds his hand.
“Let me see that.” He says, quietly. “Please.”
You hand the shirt over, and he opens it from the bottom. He steps towards you, lowers the shirt down to your left hand, He slides the fabric up and over your left arm via the left armhole. Once it’s on your shoulder, he gently tugs the fabric enough and grasps your right wrist.
He repeats the motions with your opposite arm. After the shirt’s on both of your arms, he gently slides it over your head. As soon as your head pokes through, he gently straightens the fabric out so that hangs over your torso, ending just above the pockets on your pants.
It takes you a moment to realize that he just helped you put your t-shirt on. You look at him, and notice that he’s eyes are warm-looking, and a small, sweet smile plays on his lips. It’s a different side of him that you’ve only seen when he’s ‘round you.
A side that no one else in the Sanctuary gets to see.
“Can we sit on your bed? I promise I won’t try anything. I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable, and I know standing must be painful for you.” He says.
You nod. He waits for you to sit down, comfortably on your bed, leaning back against your pillow, which you prop up against the wall. He sits down at the top of your bed, leaning against the wall.
“How did you know my name?” You ask, quietly.
“What?” He asks in confusion.
“My name. That day in the garage. You called me by my name. How did you know it?”
“You told me it when we first met up a year, five months, and twenty-three days ago.”
You look up at him. “And you remembered it? And when we first met?”
He nods, sheepishly, lowering his eyes. “Yeah. I did. How could I not? Did you think I’d forget?”
You nod. “Honestly, yeah. I did.”
He looks at you. “I want you to listen to me. Ok?”
You nod. “Yes, sir.”
“First, you don’t have to call me ‘sir’. Not when it’s just us. Secondly, I couldn’t forget you. Not your name. Not the day we first met. Not the way you get all quiet when you’re nervous. Or the way you scrunch your nose up and clench your teeth in pain. Not the way that your eyes twinkle when you’re happy, or the way that they move rapidly when you’re nervous. Or even the way your cheeks turn a light shade of pink and so do the very tips of your ears when you get flustered. I couldn’t forget you. I can’t forget you.”
“Why?” You ask, quietly.
He hesitates, but finally says something that shocks you even more than his gentleness with you.
“I love you.”
You jerk your eyes up to him, blinking in a mixture of confusion and shock.
“Do what?” You ask.
He lowers his eyes and fiddles with his thumbs, picking at his fingernails.
“I love you.” He murmurs, looking back at you. “That’s why I couldn’t forget you.”
“You love me?” You ask, still not believing him.
He nods. “I’ve loved you since I first met you. I knew I was a goner when your grey eyes met mine and you finished patching up that wound on my stomach.”
He lifts his shirt, showing you the jagged scar that runs along the left side of his stomach, reminding you of the day y’all first met. He lowers his shirt and looks up at you.
“Now. I don’t expect you to say it back to me, of course. But, you asked why I couldn’t forget you, and I had to tell you the truth. I’ve been hiding it for too long.” He says.
“I love you too.” You say.
It’s true. You do. It’s one reason why you’re always getting flustered ‘round him, and sometimes struggle to talk. But, yeah. You do love him. You just never thought he’d feel the same, so you never said anything.
“You do?” He asks.
You nod. “Mmhhmm.”
He smiles. For the first time since you met him, you see that smile. The one you fell in love with. The one that makes his dimples shine, even under all the scruff on his face. The front row of his teeth show, and his tongue peeks out just under ‘em.
The corners of his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches up. You smile back.
“But. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to fall into bed with you, Negan.” You say.
You’d heard stories of his womanizing ways, but you’d never really felt like they were true. You knew he was a big flirt, but that’s really all that knew in that department.
He chuckles. “Um…doll…we’re kinda already in bed together.”
Not thinking, you playfully smack his chest with your left hand. You both let out a grunt. His more playful. Yours more painful. You immediately clutch your shoulder.
He looks at you worriedly. “Doll?”
“I’m fine.” You grunt.
“Bullshit.”
“I’m fine. I promise. I just moved too fast and too high.”
“You gotta be careful. Ok?”
You nod. “I’ll try.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Nothing. I just have to let my shoulder rest.”
“Ok. Go ahead and lie down.”
You hesitate. But, after a moment, you sit forward so you can reach behind you with your right arm and grab your pillow. You hold it in front of you. Making a bold move, you prop your pillow up against his thigh. You twist your body ‘round so that you can lay down on your bed.
Kicking your shoes off, you swing your feet up onto the semi-hard mattress. You lay your head against your pillow, which moves slightly. Since your head is now kinda in his lap, you’re forced to look up at him. You’re ok with that for two reasons.
One, he’s not that bad too look at. And, two, at this angle, it’s better for your shoulder. You’re slightly propped up, but only ‘nough to alleviate some of the pressure and pain in your arm. Negan looks down at you with a silly grin on his face, and an eyebrow raised.
“What?” You ask. “You told me to lie down, and since you’re sitting here, I had to improvise. I can move, if you want?”
He shakes his head quickly. So quickly that for a split second you’re worried he’s gonna give himself whiplash.
“No. You’re perfectly fine. I just wasn’t expecting this. You comfortable?” He asks.
You nod. “Mmhhmm. Being propped up like this, using your thigh, actually eases some of the pain.”
“Yea?”
“Mmhhmm.”
He smiles. “Good. Now, you look exhausted.”
“Mmhhmm.”
He chuckles. “Thought so. Go ahead and get some sleep.”
“You staying here?”
He nods. “If that’s ok with you. You seem comfortable. I won’t try anything. You know I wouldn’t do anything without permission.”
You nod. “I know, and that’s fine.”
He grins. “Good. Then go on. Get some sleep.”
Negan’s P.O.V.
I can’t help but smile as your eyes flutter and eventually close. Within a few minutes, I feel your body relax and your head sinks deeper into the thin pillow on my thigh. I know you’re sound asleep. A few moments after you’ve fallen into a deep sleep, you reach for my hand and bring it to rest over your tummy, keeping your hand over mine.
I don’t bother trying to move it. I don’t want to. With my right hand, I reach for my walkie-talkie.
“Simon.” I say quietly into it; I don’t want to wake you up.
“Yes, Boss?” Simons calls back; his voice loud ‘nough to make me jump in your quiet room, and forcing me to turn the volume down.
“Go to channel four.”
“Yes, sir.”
I switch over to a private channel and wait for my right-hand man to do the same. A moment later, I hear his voice.
“What’s up?” He asks.
“I need for you to send (Y/B/F/N) to (Y/N)’s room with two of the fluffiest pillows you can find and two blankets.” I say.
“Yes, sir. I take it you finally told (Y/N)?”
I can hear the smile in his voice. He’s known how I feel ‘bout you since that first day. He’s been trying to encourage me to talk to you.
“I did.” I reply, a smile making itself known on my own face.
He chuckles. “Good. It’s ‘bout damn time. I’ll send (Y/B/F/N) over right away.”
“Thanks, Si.”
“No problem, Boss. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will.”
With that, our conversation’s over. I switch back to the main channel before setting the radio on the bed beside my thigh. I grunt slightly as I shift a little bit on the hard mattress. I don’t know how you can sleep on this thing. It’s not comfortable at all.
And, I’m sure it can’t be good on your shoulder. I’m gonna get you a new one. And some more pillows. If the slight elevation of your head against my thigh really helps ease your pressure and pain, then I’m definitely gonna get you some more pillows.
I run my fingers through your hair as you sleep. It doesn’t take long for your best friend to show up. Once she sees us on your bed, you laying with your head in my lap, and my hand on your tummy with yours covering mine, she glares at me.
“Negan.” She says, walking closer.
“Shh. She’s sleeping. I don’t wanna wake her.” I whisper.
Your friend’s face softens slightly. “She’s asleep?”
I nod. “Yea. Why?”
“She doesn’t really get much sleep. The pain keeps her up. And, she definitely doesn’t sleep with someone else in the room. Unless it’s me. How’d you get her to sleep?”
“I told her to lay down and she did. Then, I told her to get some sleep, and she just closed her eyes. I think she was really exhausted.”
Your friend nods before gesturing to the pillows and blankets in her arms. I take the pillows from her, and ask her to spread a blanket over you. I’d do it, but I’m scared to move at the moment. I don’t wanna wake you up, nor do I want to cause you pain.
I take the other blanket and drape it over my body, being mindful and not covering your head. I tuck one pillow behind my own head. The other one, I place under your left elbow after gently lifting it. You groan in your sleep and your grip on my hand tightens.
I quietly apologize, even though I know you’re sleeping. Your friend looks at me.
“She loves you.” She says after a moment.
“I know. She told me. And, I love her.” I reply.
“I can tell. And, I still stand by my earlier statement.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious. She trusts you and loves you. Two things she doesn’t do with anyone. Don’t you dare fuck it up.”
“I’m not planning on it.”
“Good. As long as you treat her right, we’ll be fine.”
I nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
After a few minutes, and making sure you’re ok, she leaves. I spend the next few months courting you, taking things slow. Evenutally, I get you to move into my room, where you can relax into my comfy, memory foam, California King-sized bed.
After nearly a year of dating, I finally pop the question, to which you say yes. Half a year after that, we get married, and nine months later, our little boy is born. I spend the rest of my life taking care of you, being the husband that you deserve and the father our son deserves.
I mean, yes, I’m still the leader of the Saviors, but foremost, I’m your husband and I’m our little boy’s father. The two of y’all mean the world to mean, and I wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize losing either of you. I even start working with the other communities instead of just dictating them.
Of course, I always make sure to keep an eye out for shoulder braces whenever I’m out on a run, and my men know to keep an eye out too. Whenever they find one, they bring it to me, and I store it for you until you need a new one.
