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!”
Summary: The day Negan’s life gets put back together in the middle of the end of the world when Simon brings a young girl to the Sanctuary.
Warning(s): Language. Angst. Threats. Rules. Violence - Slightly Canon, Slightly Non-Canon. Negan being an ass. Anxious Negan. Sweet Negan. Caring Negan. Daddy Negan, but not in that way, ok...maybe a little like that, but only with his wife. Lol. Happy AF Negan. OOC Negan. Fluff. Happy ending. Abraham and Glenn live. More time has passed since the dead started walking and Negan’s outpost gets attacked by Rick and company than what it is in the story, but Judith is toddler when Negan meets her for the first time. Not beta’d, so...there’s that. I only have Grammarly used on this.
Author’s Note(s): So, I know this is really fuckin’ long, but I really hope y’all fuckin’ enjoy this! It was only supposed to be a couple thousand words, no more than 3,000...but...I just couldn’t bring myself to end it after only 3,000 words. So, y’all get a whopping almost 11,000 words! And I know it’s a bit OOC for Negan, but oh well! We all need some soft Negan at some point! Any feedback is appreciated! As always, if you wanna be tagged, just let me know! P.S. I’ll be getting back to my “Lovin’ Him” story soon, I hope. I just haven’t been in a good mental place, but I haven’t given it up. I promise!
Word Count: 10,495 words!
Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC) [romantic]. Negan x Lucille (OFC and not the Lucille from the story) [paternal]. Negan x Issac “Ike” (OMC).
Characters: Negan. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). Lucille (OFC and not the Lucille from the story). Issac “Ike” (OMC). Rick. Sanctuary Workers. Simon. Michonne. Carl. Judith. Eli (OMC).
It’s been three days. Three days since Simon and his group brought the young girl back to the Sanctuary. Three days since Negan had been out on a solo trip to the one place he’s visited on the same day every year for the last 8 years since the world went to shit and his world ended. Three days since Negan got back and heard the first whispered words about the new girl.
Three days and Negan still hasn’t said a word to her. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to introduce himself to the teenager. And he knows why. For the first time since everything went to shit and he lost everything, he’s scared. Scared to give in to the hope that’s trying to crawl outta the deepest recesses of his hardened heart.
Scared to believe the words he’s ‘bout the girl for the last three days. Scared to find out the truth. Scared that he’s gonna lose everything all over again if everything’s true. After mentally beating himself up, leaving him on the verge of a panic attack, something he ain’t had in a while, he finds himself sucking in a deep breath as he knocks softly and hesitantly on the thin door in front of him.
When he doesn’t get a response from inside the room, he wipes a leather-covered hand across his forehead, wiping the sweat away, and reaches a shaky hand out, curling his long and normally steady fingers around the metal doorknob, twisting it slowly, hearing the latch click open. He pauses and bites his lip as he mentally curses himself.
If his people could see him right now, they wouldn’t think of him as the strong, bat-wielding leader he’s built himself up to be in order to cope and lead his people. They would think he’s a weakling, and he’d lose his spot as leader. But, in this moment, another part of his mind tells him to fuck what his people think and to open the door.
He swallows deeply and follows that part of his brain as his heart thumps loudly against the side of his ribs. Slowly pushing the door open, he pauses at what he sees inside the small room. And what he doesn’t see. His eyes search the room that’s basically bare, minus the mattress in the corner, a chair and small table against one wall, and a small set of drawers next to the door.
It takes him a moment before his eyes finally settle on what, or rather, who he’s looking for. His heart tightens painfully in his chest as soon as he sees her. The teenage girl his men brought back to the Sanctuary three damn days ago. The who had been found in the middle of a decently sized herd, fighting off as many walkers as she could when Simon and his group showed and laid waste to them.
The girl who had passed out, from shock or exhaustion, they weren’t sure, as soon as Simon had uttered Negan’s name. The girl Negan had been avoiding like the plague since he returned from the memorial spot he visited every year. The girl who Negan now finds himself unable to take his eyes off as he takes her in.
Dressed in a slightly baggy, once white but now a faded grey from years of grime and dirt t-shirt, holy blue jeans, and a pair of black combat boots still on her feet, regardless of the fact that she’s sound asleep, seemingly dead to the world. His eyes water as he looks at her hair...short ‘nough that it’s above her shoulders and just long ‘nough to cover her ears.
He bites his lip as he watches her, leaning against the doorframe, using it to keep his tall body standing up straight. He looks over the girl, looking for any visible injuries, and lets out a soft sigh of relief when he doesn’t see any on her tall, lanky body. A body that looks so small with the way she’s laying.
She’s pressed up against the wall, back straight and not an inch between it and the wall. Her knees are bent at a 45-degree angle with her feet pressed flat against the wall and a pillow between her knees. She has a small bag tucked under her head as a pillow and hers tight against her chest in an almost fighting stance, prepared for anything, and one hand slightly under the bag she’s using as a pillow.
But. She’s still sound asleep and an old, brown Carhartt jacket covers her body. The worn jacket with a small Bald Eagle and the word “SOAR” under it stitched into the fabric above the right breast pocket, no doubt still three sizes too big for her if the triple rolled sleeves have anything to say about it.
Negan chokes back a sob as he sees her, instantly recognizing the old jacket. He remembers the love she had for the thing when he’d often find her snuggled up, napping and feeling safe in it, after he’d take it off. His heart clenches as he realizes that some things never change. Even if she’s gotten older and can’t completely hide under it anymore.
He watches as she jerks in her sleep, clearly having a nightmare. It breaks his heart even more. He’s always hated seeing her in pain, and that included her having nightmares. Without thinking, acting on pure instinct, he softly pads across the room, wearing only his jeans and a white t-shirt, similar to what the girl’s wearing, but cleaner and whiter.
Settling his tall, lanky frame on the edge of the bed by her knees, he places a large hand on her knee as a way to comfort her. It was one way he could always get her to relax and calm down. Not even half a second after he lays his hand on her knee, he’s got a knife pressing against his throat, just below his Adam’s apple.
He lifts his eyes up and finds himself staring into a pair of panic-filled, yet determined muddy brown eyes.
“Hands. Off. Now.” Her sleepy voice hisses.
He swallows deeply and croaks out a quiet “Lu?”
He lifts his hand off her knee and holds them up so she can see ‘em. The girl tenses more, digging the knife deeper into his skin, nicking it slightly, for a moment before she processes what he said and the sound of his voice. Negan watches as her eyes widen and her fingers drop the knife. In one quick movement, she’s in his lap, arms ‘round his torso, face buried in his neck as she cries.
“Daddy.” She sobs.
He just holds her, trying not to break down himself. He holds her close, feeling her body tremble and shake in his arms. He breathes in deeply and tightens his arms ‘round her.
He rubs her back and murmurs softly in her ear. “Daddy’s got you, Princess. You’re safe now. I fuckin’ promise.”
He kisses her head and holds his little girl, who he’d thought was dead, tightly in his arms. His heart breaks as he hears her sobs, and feels them soaking into his shirt. He doesn’t care ‘bout that. Or the fact that the young girl in his arms is finally 14. He finally has his daughter in his arms, for the first since she was 6 years old.
He reaches a hand up and softly scratches her scalp, massaging lightly. His little girl always loved when he’d do that as he read her a bedtime story. Back before the world ended.
“Daddy’s here, sweet pea.” He assures her, and feels her arms tighten ‘round him. “I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, princess. You made it this far. You’ve survived.”
He hears her let out another sob that twists his heart as he feels the walls he built many years ago crumble. He holds her close, letting her cry as much as she wants to. He doesn’t say a word, just holds her to him, rubbing her back and massaging her scalp. A few times, he does murmur a soft “Breathe” in her ear when she gasps for air from crying so hard.
He scoots back on the mattress, leaning against the wall, holding his little girl, keeping her safe in his arms. He feels her cling to him tighter, burying her face against the side of his neck as he moves across the bed and gets comfortable.
“Shhhh. It’s ok, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just getting comfortable and I’m not letting you go til you’re ready.” He whispers softly.
“Never.” Her sob strained voice murmurs against him.
He kisses her head, understanding that one word. “I’ll never let you go again, baby. Daddy’s here. He’s not going anywhere and he’s gonna always protect you. I swear, sweetheart.”
Feeling her nod against him, he takes a deep breath in, knowing he’d die before he ever let something happen to her again. He ain’t gonna lose her again. Never again. After an hour, he finally feels her body stop trembling in his arms as she relaxes against him, sniffling every so often as she stops crying.
He brings his hand up and cups her cheek, lifting it and gently wipes her tears away, before placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
“I’ve got you, princess.” He murmurs.
She nods against him and leans into his touch. She looks at him, her eyes dancing across his face before she lets out a soft giggle.
“You got old.”
Negan’s eyes widen and he barks out a laugh. “Thanks for stating the fuckin’ obvious there, kiddo. That kinda happens. ‘Specially when the world fuckin’ ends. You got old too!”
Her eyes widen. “Did not! I’m still your little girl!”
He smiles. “You’ll always be daddy’s little girl, Lucille. Have been from the moment you were born and had me wrapped ‘round that little finger of yours.”
She lets out another soft giggle that heals his broken heart and hugs him tighter.
“I missed you, dad.” She whispers.
“I missed you too, sweetheart. So. Fuckin’. Much. Losing you and your mama...it fuckin’ killed me. I died inside when I lost y’all.”
She lifts her head and stares at him. “Why didn’t you come lookin’ for us?”
Negan lets out a shaky breath. “I did, sweetheart. Despite the fact that I watched you, my sweet little angel, and your mama, the love of my life, get swept up in the middle of that herd. I killed every single one of those dead fucks, despite my injuries. When I was done, I didn’t see y’all anywhere and then I passed out from blood loss and ended up in a coma. It took me 3 weeks to wake up. When I did, I went back out there, searching for y’all. I went back to our house, our rendezvous points, everywhere I could fuckin’ think of. I did that for years. Despite every fuckin’ thing suggesting y’all were dead. Each time I went out and didn’t find y’all, I died more and more on the inside. I never once gave up on y’all. I’ve just gotten a little busy lately to go searching as much as I used to. My people have been getting attacked, slaughtered.”
Lu nods slowly, taking in words. “Mom and I...we thought you were dead. We saw you go down after you took ‘em all down. Ma pulled me into a building and we hid. We were gonna come get you but then you just collapsed, seemingly dead to the world...and then some of the dead came out from the back of the store we were in and we had to run. We ended up in a little community named Alexandria, and we’ve been there for the last 8 years. Mama wasn’t in any shape to stay on the run. Not with me being so young and not in her condition. So, we stayed. The three of us. We’ve tried to go out but the new leader doesn’t let anyone that’s not his people go out.”
Negan’s breath gets caught in his throat at her words. Lucille notices how her dad’s entire body tenses up and she lifts her head. Not quite realizing the exact reason he tenses, but thinking it’s one thing. She gently pats his cheek.
“Don’t worry, daddy. Mama’s ok. So is Ike. He’s adorable. And looks just like you.” She assures him, thinking that’s why he tensed up a moment ago.
Negan eyes widen and he gasps at her new words, even if his brain’s still caught up on the fact that she’s been living in Alexandria.
“Ike? He? Your mama’s alive? Alexandria?” He stumbles over his words.
Lucille giggles and nods. “Yea! Mama found out she was pregnant a few months after we got separated from you with the herd and thought you were dead. She had a little boy, Issac, almost 5 months after we got to Alexandria. The leader, Deanna, she was a sweetheart and helped mama through the pregnancy and Ike’s birth. I was so happy to be a big sister. I’ve been super protective over Ike since he was born. He looks just like you. Just...tinier and cuter.”
Negan huffs softly. “I’m still cute.”
Lu giggles. “Mama still thinks so when she looks at the photo of you she has. Or, well had.”
Negan furrows his brow. “Had?”
Lu nods and lays her head back on her father’s shoulder, not caring that she’s a teenager. She’s missed her daddy. And he still makes her feel safe. Plus, a part of her’s worried that this is all a dream and that when she wakes up, he’s gonna be gone, so she’s trying to enjoy it as much as she can.
“Yea. Had. The new leader of Alexandria, Rick...he’s a dick -” She starts.
Lu laughs. “I’m a teenager, dad. Mama does say I cuss worse than you used to. Anyway. Rick. He’s a dick. Or should I say Prick? Which would you prefer?”
Negan narrows his eyes at her. “Neither, but as you pointed out, you’re a teenager. I don’t expect you to listen to me.”
She giggles. “I’ll always listen to you…when I wanna. I’ll stick with Prick. It sounds better. Rick the Prick.”
Negan laughs. “I like that. Rick the Prick. Just don’t tell your mama I’m letting you cuss. She’ll kick my ass. And I’m quite fond of my ass. Ok. Continue.”
He smiles when he hears her laugh and hugs her tighter to him as he listens to his little girl, who’s not so little anymore.
“He found the picture after it fell outta mama’s pocket one day a couple of weeks ago. He looked at when one of the guys from one of the other communities saw it too and gasped. They apparently recognized you in the photo. He told Rick ‘that’s Negan. Just he’s older now. And he carries a bat around. But that’s him.’. Rick lost his shit and demanded to know who’s photo it was, yelling that there was a traitor amongst the community. Mama and I never said a word. We’d seen him kill outta spite and we weren’t gonna do anything to bring his anger towards us. Mama cried ‘cause she no longer had the photo. I snuck out one night...last week? I was gonna go back to our house...try to get another photo for mama. I don’t like seeing her sad, daddy. I made it there after two days. Got the photo, and was heading back home when I heard a truck drive by...I hid in the woods behind the house and when I heard the truck engine turn off, I made a run for it. I ended up getting swarmed by a bunch of the dead a few hours later...I was almost done taking them out when a bunch of gunfire rang out...taking out the rest. The creepy dude with the pornstache demanded my shit, and I told him to fuck off and started walking away. He grabbed my arm, told me I should be grateful for him saving my life. I flipped him off and then punched him in the nose when he wouldn’t let go of me.”
Negan lets out a snort of laughter. “That’s my girl.”
“He got really pissed off and said that a man named Negan would deal with me, and that I’d better pray that I didn’t piss the “Big Boss Man” off. I didn’t really pay attention to that part as soon as he said “Negan”. You don’t exactly have a common name, dad, and I just got really overwhelmed, plus I was fuckin’ exhausted. I guess I just passed out and when I woke up, I was in this room. I’ve only been allowed to leave for meals. And that’s it.” Lucille continues.
Negan takes in her story and hugs her closer. He grinds his teeth as he thinks ‘bout Rick hurting his family. His wife. His daughter. And the son he’s never met. He grinds them harder when he thinks ‘bout Simon putting his hands on his little girl, regardless of the reason. Looking down at Lucille, he unclenches his jaw.
“I’ll deal with Rick the Prick. You can guaran-fuckin’-tee that. He’s got a shit storm coming his way. Now, where’d Simon grab you? Let me see, sweetheart.” He says, in a soft voice.
Lucille lifts the sleeve of the shirt she’s wearing and Negan chuckles as he realizes something.
“Damn, kid. You just stole all your daddy’s clothes, didn’t you? First my jacket, now my shirt?” He teases.
Lu giggles. “Shut up, dad! You know that jacket makes me feel safe. And it was laundry day when I snuck out so when I got to our old house, I changed into a cleaner shirt. I realized it was yours ‘cause it still smelled like you.”
Negan chuckles. “You’re adorable, sweet pea.”
He smiles, showing off his dimples as his little girl blushes. The smile fades a little when he sees the handprint wrapping ‘round her upper arm. He brings a hand up and gently traces it, growling low in his throat.
“I’m gonna kill that fucker for laying a hand on you.” He mutters.
Lucille’s eyes widen and she stares at him. “No, dad. You can’t.”
Negan raises a brow as he looks at her. “And why the fuck can’t I? He put his hand on a woman. My own fuckin’ daughter.”
“He didn’t know I’m your kid, dad.”
“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter. I have a strict rule ‘bout no one laying a hand on a woman, hurting them. Same goes with kids.”
“Dad. Don’t. Ok? I don’t want you hurting someone ‘cause of me.”
Negan stares at her. “My sweet little Lulu. I would kill any fucker who ever laid a hand on you in a way that you did not want to be touched. You are my little girl. Even if you are a teenager. You’re still my little girl. I’d have done it before the world ended, even if it meant going to jail. And I’d definitely fuckin’ do it now, ‘cause I’m the Big Man in charge. And no one, I repeat, fuckin’ no one, lays a hand on my family.”
Lu hugs him tight. “Well...you might kill a fucker for touching me...but I’d kill a fucker if I don’t get something to eat soon.”
Negan chuckles and hugs her, kissing her head. “C’mon, squirt. Let’s get you outta this boring ass room, up to mine, and while you shower and get cleaned up, I’ll have some fucker bring up some food. Maybe I’ll have Simon do it. If I can’t kill him, I’ll just make his life fuckin’ miserable.”
His daughter laughs at the smirk on his face and hugs him again before climbing off his lap and standing up.
“As long as you don’t kill him.” She says grinning. “No. C’mon. You promised me food and a shower. Chop chop, old man.”
Negan grunts and flips her off. “I’ll show you old man, kid. I’ll still whoop your ass.”
Lucille laughs. “Nah uh! C’mon. Think ‘bout it. You get to enjoy all the perks of having a teenage daughter!”
Negan eyes widen with a scary thought and he stares at her as he stands off the bed. “So fuckin’ help me. You’d better not have a fuckin’ boyfriend! You’re too fuckin’ young for that shit!”
She laughs as she grabs her stuff. “Nah, dad. I don’t like boys.”
Negan lets out a deep breath. “Thank fuck for that. You’re too fuckin’ young!”
She laughs and decides to tease him. “Go on, old man. Lead the way to your room. I need food. I’ll tell you ‘bout the girl I have a crush on.”
Negan whips his head around to look at her so fast she can’t help but giggle, not surprised if her dad gave himself whiplash.
“I don’t give a fuck if you like dicks or not. You could like both for all I care. That don’t bother me. Lord knows I don’t have a problem with playing for both teams, but you are too fuckin’ young to date anyone. You can date when you’re my age!”
“But, daaaaaaaaaaddddddddddd! You’re older than dinosaurs!”
Negan gives her a glare without any heat behind it. “Watch it, young lady. I will ground your ass and not think twice ‘bout it.”
She giggles as she walks outta the room. “Mama said y’all were 16 when y’all started dating!”
“That’s different! You’re my daughter!” He says, following after her leading her down the hallway, ignoring the looks from his people at his proclamation. “No dating, young lady!”
One of his men snickers and Negan rounds on him, pinning him to the wall by his throat.
“Something fuckin’ funny, asshole?” He hisses.
“Dad! Stop!” Lu says, tugging on Negan’s arm.
The man shakes his head as he stares at the boss man and croaks. “No, sir. I just….”
Negan glares and lowers the man back to his feet. “You just what, fucker?”
“Remember when my little girl was at that age. I know what you’re going through. That’s all.” He says, rubbing his throat.
Negan eyes widen. “Oh...sorry ‘bout the whole pinning you by the fuckin’ throat. She’s just...she’s my little girl.”
The man nods and smiles softly. “No worries, Sir, and I understand. I’ve done the same thing a time or two before. But, don’t worry, Sir. I’ll make sure no-one messes with your girl.”
Negan raises a brow. “Yea? What’s your job here?”
“Janitorial.”
“Not anymore. You’re a Savior now.”
“Really? Even though I’m an old fuck?”
Negan chuckles softly. “You’re a Savior, man. Doesn’t mean you have to go on runs. I’m sure I can find another task for you, but you’re a Savior. You offered up to protect my daughter just ‘cause, so that says a lot. Hell, I might have you become my new right-hand man. I need one who won’t lay a hand on my girl. What do you say?”
The man’s eyes widen. “Really? What ‘bout Simon?”
Negan smirks. “I’ll deal with him. He’ll think twice next time before he lays a hand on a woman or a kid. Let alone my kid.”
The man nods. “Well, then, sir. I’d be honored to be your right-hand man.”
“Thanks, Eli. Now, do you mind doing me a favor? Run and fetch Simon. Have him bring two dinner plates to my room, and when you get done with that, stop by the Commissary and grab some stuff for kid? I don’t think she wants to wear the same clothes she’s been wearing for a week. We’ll be in my room. I got 8 years to catch up on that I missed of my daughter’s life.”
Eli smiles and nods. “Yes, sir. Of course.”
Negan smiles and pats the older man’s cheek before turning to Lu and hooking his arm ‘round her shoulder.
“C’mon, kid. You smell worse than I do.” He jokes which just earns him an elbow to the gut and a soft laugh.
“Shut it, old man!”
Eli watches and smiles as the boss man takes the teenager upstairs, the two of them laughing, and joking around. He goes to do what he was ordered to, more than happy to do so. He wouldn’t ever say anything, but doing janitorial work in the Sanctuary for the better portion of the last decade had not been too kind on his aging bones.
Being the right-hand man to the boss man would be great. He really was honored. He liked and respected the man. He didn’t agree with some of the things he’d done in the past, but he’d understand. ‘Specially once he’d seen that lost, devastated, and haunted look in his eyes. He recognized it immediately and just knew, somehow, that the man had lost his family.
But, now that Negan had his daughter back, Eli was sure things were looking up for the younger man. And he’d make sure Negan never had that look back in his eyes.
***
Upstairs, Negan shows Lu ‘round his room and living quarters.
“After you get fuckin’ cleaned up, and fuckin’ eat something, you can pick out your own room.” He smiles.
Lu smiles a little and nods slowly. Negan catches the look of sadness that flashes across her face.
“What is it, sweetheart? Do you not want your own room?” He asks, worriedly.
“I do…” She says softly.
“But?”
“But...I miss mama and Ike...besides...what if your girlfriend comes up here?”
Negan’s eyes widen. “Girlfriend? What’re you talking ‘bout, kiddo?”
“Whenever I’d go to get meals over the last few days, I’d always hear women say how much they wanted to be your wife. That there was no way a man like you could still be single.”
Negan sighs and hugs his daughter tight. “Sweetheart, not that I really wanna discuss my sex life, existent or not, with you, I promise you, I don’t have a girlfriend. And I only have one wife. That’s your mama. She’s the only one for me, ok? When we got separated all those years ago, my heart was broken. And it never healed. Your mama was, and is, all I need. I ain’t even looked at another woman. Your mama has and will always have my heart.”
Lu looks up. “Promise?”
He kisses her head. “I promise, kiddo. And, I can also promise you, we’re gonna get your mama and your brother here as soon as possible, ok? Then we can be a family again.”
His heart melts at the happiest smile his teenage daughter gives him before she ducks outta his arms and walks to the bathroom, ready to take a shower. Before she shuts the door, she looks back at him and smiles again.
“I love you, dad. And, I’m glad you’re still alive.”
Negan grins from ear to ear. “I love you too, kiddo. Now, go wash your stinky ass.”
She laughs and flips him off. Once the door’s closed, Negan flops back on his bed, his heart now beating happily and strongly for the first time in years as all the walls that once blocked it lay in a crumpled mess. He strokes a hand over his face and then looks at the wedding ring on his left ring finger that’s been there for well over 15 years.
He grins more and mumbles to himself. “My wife. My daughter. My son.”
He sits up straight, laughing softly. “I have a fuckin’ son! And they’re all alive. I’m getting my family back.”
***
The following morning, Negan does a happy dance in the solitude of his own private bathroom as he gets ready for the day. Nothing could get in his fuckin’ way or ruin his fuckin’ good ass mood. Last night had been one of the best. He and Lu had talked til she fell asleep, snuggled up to his side like she used to do all those years ago when she was still only a couple feet tall.
He’d carried her to the bedroom she’d picked out after her shower and they’d eaten dinner. He’d tucked her, kissed her forehead, and turned the lights off. The routine coming back to him as naturally as breathing. He’d gone to bed with a smile on his face as he told himself that he’d be getting his wife and son back the following day.
Which is why he was currently doing a happy dance as he brushed his teeth, standing in his boxers, and humming ‘round the toothbrush in his mouth. You’d never guess that the dead walk ‘round outside, that’s how happy Negan was. For the first time in the 8 years, he finally had a damn good reason to get outta bed in the morning.
He raises his brow, spitting in the sink as he catches his daughter’s gaze in the bathroom mirror.
“Mornin’, sunshine!” He says.
She just grumbles and flips him off. “Too fuckin’ early for this shit, dad!”
He laughs. “Not a fuckin’ mornin’ person, are you, sweetheart?”
She shakes her head and flips him off again. “No. I’m fuckin’ not and I don’t see how the fuck you are! You’re an old man! Shouldn’t you still be asleep? Snoring?”
He laughs, rinsing his mouth out and spitting again, before walking over to her and kissing her head.
“Normally, I ain’t a mornin’ person. Fuckin’ hate getting up early. And, I don’t fuckin’ snore, thank you very fuckin’ much! No one’s complained in the last 8 years.” He teases. “Besides, today, sweet pea, today’s the day we’re gonna go get your mama and brother. So, hurry the fuck up, get dressed, and then we’ll head out.”
He smiles as he watches her eyes light up and a sleepy smile spreads across her face.
“Really?”
He smiles and nods. “Mmhhmm! Now, c’mon. Chop chop! You wanna wear one of my shirts, kiddo? That way you can leave the jacket here, safe and sound?”
“Please?”
“Of course. Brush your teeth. Get ready and I’ll bring you one of my shirts once I get pants on.”
She smiles. “Thanks, dad.”
He smiles and nearly tears up when she gives him a tight hug with a whispered “I love you” before going to get ready. Negan continues his little happy dance as sets a shirt on the bathroom handle before he gets dressed in his standard grey jeans tucked into boots, white t-shirt under his signature leather jacket, and the beautiful red scarf that had been a birthday present from his beautiful wife many years ago, tucked securely ‘round his neck.
He picks up his trusted barbed wire baseball bat and softly ran his fingers around her handle. He’d named it Lucille since she had helped him picked it out ‘cause she wanted her “daddy to have the besses bats in da whole wide wowld” as she told him in her cute little 5 year old voice the day they’d gone shopping when he found out he was gonna be coaching the baseball team at the high school again the next year.
After the world ended, he’d kept the bat close, using it to defend his family, keeping his girls safe, and when they got separated, the scarf and the bat were his way of keeping his family close to him. To remind him of the love, of his family, and the good things he’d had in his life.
“Dad?”
Negan jumps and places Lucille in her rightful place on his shoulder as he turns to look at his daughter, who’s fully dressed and in similar attire, sans the leather jacket and scarf. Her knife strapped tightly to her thigh.
“Yea?”
She giggles. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. What the fuck’s going on in that old head of yours?”
He laughs and flips her off. “Just remembering the day you helped me pick Lucille out.”
Her brows nearly reach her forehead as she looks questioningly at her father. “Pick Lucille out?”
He nods as he opens the door to lead her out to the hallway so they can get a move on with their day. He explains as they walk down to the trucks.
“Lucille,” He gestures to the bat. “I named her after you when we all got separated. The scarf and the bat...they were my ways of keeping you and your mama close to me. Besides, Lucille here is just as much of a badass as I knew you’d be when you grew up.”
His daughter laughs. “You’re weird, dad. But I think it’s sweet. I mean, I did keep your brown jacket. Ike has the whistle you used to use when you coached. Drives mama crazy when he blows it all the damn time. Mama has your….well she has a lot of your stuff.”
Negan smiles at her words and slings an arm ‘round her shoulders as they walk. His smile grows when he realizes she’s almost as tall as him, even though she’s only 14. Holding the door open for her he leads her out the truck and explains the rules for going outta beyond the walls of the Sanctuary as they walk.
“I’m telling you these, kid, ‘cause I don’t want you to get hurt. I know you can handle yourself if need be. But, I can’t risk losing you again. So, please just stick by my side. And don’t do anything stupid. I will ground your ass the moment we get back. Understand?” He says, giving her a stern look while opening the truck door.
She nods, climbing up and into the big vehicle. “I’ll listen. But only ‘cause I don’t wanna lose you either.”
“Good girl.”
He kisses her head before shutting the door and going ‘round to his side. As soon as he’s in, he glances at her.
“Seatbelt on. Now.”
She rolls her eyes but does as he says. “It’s the apocalypse, dad. I don’t think a seatbelt’s gonna do much to save me.”
He stares at her. “Listen, I’ve already been in a deadly wreck that I should not have survived. But I did. And, had I been wearing my seatbelt, I wouldn’t have been thrown through the fuckin’ windshield.”
Her eyes widen as she stares at him in shock, dread filling the pit of her stomach at the thought of her dad in a wreck so bad that he went flying through the windshield.
“Yea. It was ‘bout as fuckin’ fun as it fuckin’ sounds. And, if I tell you to do somethin’, you fuckin’ do it. It ain’t me just being a father and pulling the “I’m in fuckin’ charge, you listen to me” bullshit card. No. It’s ‘cause I’m trying to fuckin’ protect you.”
She nods fast. “Yes, sir.”
He gives her a small smile before he buckles himself up and cranks the engine.
“Now. Let’s go get your mama and brother. I got a little boy to meet and the love of my life to kiss!”
Lu groans, grossed out at the thought of her parents kissing. Negan laughs and tells her to get used to it. Once the gates open up, he drives through and with a wave of his hand at his a few of his people, the gates are closed. Negan and Lu talk for a bit while he drives. Eventually, though, he listens to her directions to the community that’s caused him and his family so much grief.
As they roll up on the community, Negan glances over at his daughter, noticing and feeling the anxiety rolling off her. He lays a calming hand on her knee.
“It’s gonna be ok, kiddo. I ain’t gonna let nothing happen to you, your mama, or Ike, ok?” He assures her.
She nods slowly and fidgets with one of the holes in her jeans. Negan brings the truck to a stop outside the gates of Alexandria, and turns to look at his little girl who suddenly looks like a little kid instead of the badass teenager he knows she is. Turning the engine off and tucking the keys in his pocket, he unbuckles them both and pulls her in for a tight hug.
“You trust me, don’t you, kid?” He asks softly.
She nods against him, her arms snaking ‘round him. “Of course.”
He kisses her head. “Then you know I’d die before I let anything happen to you. Nothing’s gonna happen. I’m gonna set Rick the Prick fuckin’ straight, teach him he’s messing with the wrong man, with the wrong family, and he ain’t gonna bother us again.”
“What if he does?”
“I’ll fuckin’ kill him then.”
Lu jerks her head up and looks at him. “What?”
He nods. “I will. If he messes with my family, with what’s mine, he’ll regret it and become a munchie snack for dead.”
“Dad, he has a little girl.”
“Good. Then he should understand the things a father would do to protect his daughter.”
She sighs softly and nods, hugging him tight again. “I just don’t wanna lose you again.”
Negan smiles and tightens his arms ‘round her. “Listen, sweet pea. I wear a leather jacket, I have Lucille, and my nutsack is made of steel. I am not dying until I am damn good and ready.”
She giggles. “That’s gross. I didn’t need to know that ‘bout your nuts, dad. But I get it. You ain’t dying til you’re ready.”
He chuckles. “Ex-fuckin’-actly! And I ain’t gonna be ready for at least another 50 years. I gotta live to at least 100!”
He smiles when he hears her laugh and lets the mumble retort slide. He kisses her head before leaning back.
“C’mon. Let’s go be badasses and get our family!”
She smiles and nods, getting outta the truck. She waits for him by the gates, brow raised when he starts whistling and bangs the barb-wire bat against the metal gate.
“Little Pig. Little Pig. Let. Me. In!” He calls out in a sing-song voice, grinning at his daughter’s reaction.
A moment later, the gate opens up, and a somewhat nervous looking man looks at him, glancing at Lu before turning his attention back to Negan.
“Ummm...who are you?” The man, who Lu knows to be Spencer, asks.
“Oh, you better be joking?” He smirks, grinning at the man, watching as his eyes widen a little bit in fear. “Negan…” He gestures with his bat to his daughter. “Lucille…”
“I know who she is. What is she doing with you?”
“That’s none of your fuckin’ business, asswipe. Now, be a good little boy. Let us the fuck in and go get Rick the fuckin’ Prick.”
Spencer sighs but opens the gate to let the father and daughter in before he closes it and scurries off to go get the leader. Negan smirks as he swings his Lucille up on his shoulder and wraps his arms ‘round his daughter’s shoulders. Walking into the community, Negan looks around.
“Holy shit! It’s the fuckin’ apocalyptic suburbs!” He laughs, grinning when Lu giggles and shakes her head.
“Shut up, dad.” She jabs a finger in his side, between two ribs but it doesn’t do much since the leather jacket’s in the way.
Negan laughs. “C’mon. Let’s go see what this fuckin’ Prick’s all ‘bout.”
“That’s him.”
Looking to see where his daughter’s pointing, Negan raises a brow.
“That’s the fucker that managed to get a group together to slaughter 30 of my men, women and children? I’ll be fuckin’ damned.” He mutters.
Lu looks up at him, eyes wide. “He...he did that? Kids?”
Negan sighs and nods. “Yea. That attack I mentioned yesterday, it came from a group known as Alexandria. That’s why I zoned out the moment you mentioned that’s where you were staying.”
“Oh, dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Like I said, Rick doesn’t like anyone who’s not part of his group,” She gestures to the dozen or so people surrounding the community’s leader. “And he doesn’t tell anyone who’s not them what’s going on.”
Negan tugs her a little closer. “I know, sweet pea. I know my little girl could never be a part of something like that. I know I’ve done some shitty things in the last decade, but they’ve all had a purpose. I’d never just murder a bunch of innocents. Let alone fuckin’ kids.”
Lu nods and bites the inside of her lip as she stares at Rick, giving him a look that would kill if it were possible. Rick walks over, looking at her.
“Lucille? What’s going on? What are you doing with him? He’s a murderer!” He exclaims, going based off the stories from Gregory over at Hilltop.
Lu shrugs her dad’s arm off her shoulders and stands up to her full height, looking the former sheriff in the eyes.
“No. You, Rick, are a murderer! How could you kill 30 innocent people? Men, I can kinda understand! But women? CHILDREN? HOW? You say you wanna protect us, but then you kill kids!” She glares.
“How do you know ‘bout that?” He asks, shocked.
“Because! Unlike you, my father doesn’t lie to his kids!”
“Your father?”
Negan smirks and steps up next to Lu again, pride swelling in his chest at his girl. He glares at Rick.
“Howdy there, Sheriff.” He smirks. “You were a sheriff, weren’t? Yea. I bet you fuckin’ were. You just got that arrogant “I’m above the law ‘cause I am the law” look fuckin’ written all over you! And, yes. Her father wouldn’t lie to her. Ok. He might’ve lied ‘bout running outta ice cream or some other silly shit before the world went to shit, but he wouldn’t fuckin’ lie ‘bout another man killing kids. Oooo. I can just see the little wheels in your hamster brain spinning real fuckin’ quick. I bet you’re trying to figure out how the fuck I know ‘bout her father. Take a fuckin’ guess.”
Rick stares at him, mouth slightly open, shock all over his face.
“No. Seriously. Take a fuckin’ guess. Rick the fuckin’ Prick.” Negan hisses.
“You…her…?” He stutters.
“Winner winner fuckin’ chicken dinner! You guessed it. I’m her fuckin’ father, you prick! And, I dunno ‘bout you, but I would do any-fuckin’-thing to protect my little girl. Even if it meant fuckin’ tell her ‘bout some damn fuck who killed kids!”
Rick’s eyes widen. “You’re Negan…”
“Right a-fuckin’-gain, Prick! Yea. I’m the man you tried to fuckin’ kill when you decided to go all ghung-ho and attacked my fuckin’ outpost! All based off some fuckin’ story from a man with a pair of loose fuckin’ lips that’ll spill whatever they can if it means protecting his sorry fuckin’ ass! I sure hope you ain’t killed any-fuckin’-one else based off a lie!”
“I...we were...I have people to protect!”
“Don’t care!” Negan says in a singsong voice. “I have people to fuckin’ protect too, Prick! Which is why I don’t go killing a fuck ton of fuckin’ people all whilly fuckin’ nilly!”
“I-”
Rick doesn’t get another word in before Lu hauls off and decks him, her father’s earlier words finally processed in her brain. The group of folks standing around all gasp at the turn of events.
“What the hell?!” Rick gasps, clutching his nose.
“YOU TRIED TO KILL MY FATHER?!” She yells.
Negan’s eyes widen. “Ho-ly sh-it! Rick, you done fucked the fuck up! Don’t you know not to piss off Daddy’s little girl? Fuck. She ain’t seen me in 8 years and she’s still fuckin’ protective over me!”
Lu raises a brow at him before turning back to Rick. She hauls off to deck him again before Negan gently curls his fingers ‘round her wrist with a shake of his head. She sighs and nods, crossing her arms across her chest. Negan kisses her head.
“Good girl. Go get your mama and brother for me, yeah?” He asks, in a soft voice.
She nods and kicks Rick’s shin before storming off to do as she was asked. Negan smirks and pokes his tongue out as he watches her.
“Yep. She’s definitely still Daddy’s little girl.” He chuckles and turns back to Rick. “Alright. Here’s how it’s gonna fuckin’ work, Prick.”
Rick shakes his head and cuts him off. “No. I’m not listening to a word you have to say.”
“Oh, you fuckin’ better listen. I came here with every intention of not laying a damn hand on anyone, you included. Because that’s just the fuckin’ gentleman I am! Now, my daughter hauling off and decking you? I didn't plan on it, but I ain’t sorry it happened. You pissed her the fuck off, and I can tell she’s got my temper. In fact, I still think you got off fuckin’ easy considering what you did. So, either you can either fuckin’ listen to what I’m ‘bout to fuckin’ tell you and no one gets hurt, or I should say no one gets hurt more. Or, I can kill one, just one, of your fuckin’ people and you’ll still listen to what I’m ‘bout to fuckin’ say. Your fuckin’ choice. You have five seconds to fuckin’ decide.”
Rick glares at Negan with his head tilted back slightly to stop the bleeding from his nose.
“Five.”
Negan raises a brow.
“Four.”
Rick glares.
“Three”
Lu walks over with a woman and a young kid.
“Two.”
Negan smirks and tightens his grip on Lucille, getting ready to move her off his shoulder.
“O-”
“Fine! Say what you fuckin’ want to say!”
Negan smirks and relaxes his grip on Lucille, letting her drop down to hang by his side. He stands up straight, towering over Rick a bit. His tongue darts out again, between two rows of insanely perfect white teeth and wets his bottom lip.
“Here’s what’s gonna fuckin’ happen, Rick the fuckin’ Prick. I’m gonna be taking my family. Yes, I have a fuckin’ family. A wife. A daughter. And even a son that I get to meet for the first fuckin’ time. I’m gonna take them home with me. I’m not gonna harm a hair on your head. My daughter might, but I won’t. Because I won’t hurt a little girl’s daddy unless he truly deserves it. Why, you ask? BECAUSE I’M NOT A FUCKIN’ MONSTER! And, my little girl asked me not kill you, because, despite you fuckin’ deserving to be a snack for the fuckin’ dead that are on the outsides of these fuckin’ walls after what you fuckin’ did, you still have a little girl. And every little princess needs her daddy at some point. And I’m not gonna fuckin’ take away from your daughter what mine had snatched from her 8 fuckin’ years ago. When I leave, you’re not gonna fuckin’ try and fuckin’ track me down to try and fuckin’ kill me again. That shit won’t fly. You try, and I WILL SHUT THAT SHIT DOWN! Don’t make me take your daughter’s daddy away from her. I don’t want to do that, but I fuckin’ will if I fuckin’ have to. After I leave, you’re gonna be a fuckin’ good boy, go back to your fuckin’ house, and be a father for your children, “He glances up to see a woman with dreads, keeping a watchful eye over the former sheriff. Negan nods to her to show he ain’t gonna hurt her man, before he looks back at Rick. “And by the looks of it, husband to a woman who is too damn good for your sorry ass. Not trying to run ‘round, playing fuckin’ hero. People are fuckin’ resources, Rick, something you clearly fuckin’ fail to grasp the concept of. You can lead your people, get supplies, and shit to live. You play by the fuckin’ rules, and our paths won’t ever fuckin’ cross again. You don’t play by the rules, there will be consequences. This ain’t baseball, Rick. There aren’t three strikes and you’re out. No. You get one chance. You fuck up and disregard the rules, Lucille here will be dishing up some bloody homeruns, and you will NOT like the score. Am I understood?”
Rick glares at him.
“AM I FUCKIN’ UNDERSTOOD, RICK?” He yells.
The sheriff sighs and nods slowly. “Yea.”
“What the fuck was that?” He cups his ear. “I didn’t quite hear you. My daughter says I’m getting to be an old man, and maybe she’s fuckin’ right. So, I’m gonna need you to speak the fuck up, Rick!”
“Yes, sir! You’re understood!”
Negan grins and steps back, patting Rick’s shoulder. “That’s a good boy. Now, run the fuck along and get that nasty ass blood off your face.”
Rick sighs before walking away with Michonne following him. Negan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, his eyes land on a little girl with curly blonde hair. He kneels down, ignoring the popping of joints. He gently lays his bat down on the ground and looks the little girl.
“C’mere, sweetie.” He says in a soft voice.
The girl looks up at a young boy, who Negan can tell is her big brother. The boy glares at Negan for a moment til the man gives him a gentle nods and an understanding is reached between them. The boy looks at his little sister and gently nudges her, letting her know it’s ok to go to the tall man crouched down.
She does a mixture of a waddle and a run to get to Negan. He smiles as she giggles softly when he gently scoops her up in his arms, standing once again. He tickles her belly and kisses her cheek, making the girl blush and giggle.
“You are just the cutest little angel! Yes you are!” He coos softly. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
She giggles. “”Ju!”
“Her name’s Judith. She goes by Judy too.” The young boy says, walking a little closer, clearing protective of his younger sister.
Negan smiles and tickles Judith. “Such a pretty name for such a pretty little sweetheart! You your daddy’s little princess?”
She giggles and nods fast, curls bouncing on her head. She wraps his little arms ‘round her tummy, giggling and babbling a little bit, telling him all about how she’s a princess. Negan smiles and just listens, nodding along with her.
“Well, I have to agree with you, sweetie. You are definitely a princess!” He coos, making her squeal with giggles. “Now, you go be the bestest princess in the whole world, ok? Always keep your daddy and big brother on their toes!”
She giggles and nods. “Otay!”
Negan smiles and hands her back to her brother, looking at him. “You’re both good kids. Even if your dad can be shitty. You’re both good. And, I want you to know that I would never, ever harm a kid, ok? You have my fuckin’ word on that. I would rather die before I had to hurt a kid. All I want is to be with my family. I’ve missed the last 8 years of my daughter’s life. Last time I saw her, she was just a few years older than your sister here. And, I’ve never even met my son. As long as your dad doesn’t mess with me, my family, and my people again, I won’t bother him, ok? You’ll never have to see me again, unless you want to come hang out with a bunch of kids, ‘cause there are a bunch at the place I call home. Some are newborns and they range all the way up to your age and my daughter’s.”
The boy’s eyes widen as he holds his little sister. “Really?”
Negan nods and smiles. “Mmhhmm. Kids are the future, boy. And I’d protect each and every last one of them to my dying breath. And if you come over, that would include you too. I know I’m not necessarily the best person on the planet, but then again no one is these days. And, I can assure you whatever story your daddy’s been spoon fed ain’t completely true. Yes. I’ve killed. But they’ve been men who deserved it. And by that I mean they either laid a hand on a woman or a child. Or they’ve forced themselves on someone, which is a big fuckin’ no-no. Either way, I don’t kill just for the pure hell of it. I do it to protect others. You’ve had to kill to protect someone, haven’t you?”
The boy nods slowly. “My mom. She died when Judy was born. I had to kill her before she turned and killed my sister.”
Negan’s eyes widen. “Well fuckin’ shit. I wasn’t fuckin’ expecting that. I’m sorry, kid. You did what you had to in order to protect your sister. I’ve done what I’ve had to protect the people I take care of. I’m telling you this ‘cause I can tell you’ve seen some shit, more than just killing your mom, in your life. Shit no kid should have to ever see. But times change when the dead start walking. Kids have to grow up faster than they need to. But I’d do anything and everything I could to try and help them stay kids a little longer. Being an adult sucks ass. So, try to be a kid for a little longer, ok? Soak it up.”
The kid nods. “Yes, sir.”
Negan smiles a little and ruffles the boy’s hair since his sister took his hat. “Good. Now, maybe I’ll see you again if you want to come play with kids. If I don’t, just know that you’re badass, ok? And you’ve got my respect. Something not a lot of folks have.”
The boy nods fast. “Ok.”
“What’s your name, boy?”
“Carl.”
“Nice to meet you, Carl. You keep on being a badass.”
Negan grins as the boy nods fast and then leans down to kiss Judith’s hair. “Bye, Princess!”
She giggles and waves as Negan walks away, straight to the three people who mean the world to him. The reasons he has to keep on living. He watches as a little boy watches him and after a moment, runs to him, squealing happily as he leaps into the tall man’s arms, with a screeching “DADDY!” ringing through the air.
Negan tears as he catches the little boy, scooping him up in his arms, kissing his head for the first time in the kid’s life, hugging him tight.
“Hi, baby boy! I’m so glad I finally get to meet you!” He says, his voice cracking. “You been taking care of your mommy?”
The little boy smiles widely and nods fast. “I’m a big boy! And I keep mommy safe!”
Negan smiles. “I’m sure you fuckin’ do! Does daddy’s big boy have a name?”
Another toothy grin is flashed. “Issac! But mommy calls me Ike!”
“Ike? Hmmm. That sounds like a damn good name for a big boy who protects his mommy!”
Ike giggles and nods fast. “Mommy said you my daddy?”
“Your mommy would be fuckin’ right, little man. I am your daddy! Wanna know how I know I’m your daddy?”
“How?” Wide eyes and a curious face look up at him.
“Because, little man,” Negan smiles. “You have the same hair color as me.” He lightly tugs on a few strands of jet black hair. “You have the same cute dimples as me.” He gently pokes chubby little cheeks, making the boy smile widely, showing off dimples. “And! Your mommy said I’m your daddy. She’s a smart lady, and she always tells the truth!”
Ike giggles and nods fast. “Mommy does do that!”
Negan chuckles and kisses his son’s head again, doing everything in his power not to start crying as his little boy hugs him tight and murmurs against his jacket.
“Love you, daddy.”
“And, I love you too, my little man.”
His statement earns him a happy squeal and another tight hug as little legs wrap ‘round his waist. Negan tightens his arms ‘round the little human clinging to him like a fly on a strip of duct tape. He closes his eyes and savors the feeling of holding his son in his arms for the first time. Issac clings to him, the man he’s known as his daddy without having ever met him.
He knows his mommy and sister were right. This is his daddy and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. He rubs his face against the smooth leather jacket and lets out a happy noise, before he starts crying.
“Ike?” He hears daddy’s voice ask. “What’s wrong?”
He sniffles and clings to him more. “Missed you, daddy. I happy you here now.”
His little heart nearly bursts with happiness as he feels super strong arms tighten ‘round him again and a gentle, yet heavy hand rests on his back, keeping him close. Keeping him safe. Letting him know it’s ok to relax, so he does. His little body sagging in the strong, safe arms, holding him close to a warm chest.
“Daddy’s got you, little man. You’re safe now. I fuckin’ promise.” He hears the words murmured in his ear by a gentle voice. “Daddy’s never leaving you. Never letting you go. Never gonna stop loving you.”
Ike cries harder, his tears soaking into the leather of his daddy’s jacket. He feels a soft kiss against his temple. He doesn’t realize that the words are almost identical to the words murmured to his big sister the day sister. He doesn’t care ‘bout that. All he cares ‘bout is the fact that his daddy’s here now, that he’s never gonna leave him, that’s he’s safe, and that his daddy’s always gonna love him.
He sniffles, rubbing a snotty nose across slightly wet leather, his tears slowly drying up as he grips the smooth fabric in his tiny hands, never wanting to let go. Negan holds him close, rubbing his back with soft, gentle movements, eyes closed as he presses his own nose in his son’s hair. He curls his fingers a little to lightly scratch the little boy’s back, helping him relax.
After a few moments, the two lift their heads and stare at each other. Ike reaches a hand up, running his fingers through his daddy’s beard, and giggles at the feeling.
“Dat tickles!”
Negan laughs and rubs his face back and forth across a tiny outstretched palm, making more giggles erupt from inside the tiny boy in his arms.
“Do you like it when daddy’s beard tickles your hand?” He asks, getting a super fast nod in response. “Yea? I bet it’d tickle your tummy! What do you think?”
Ike giggles and shakes his head. “Noooo!”
“I think it would! Should we find out?”
After a brief moment of thinking it over, and before the little kid can reply, he’s lifted higher in Negan’s arms as his shirt gets raised and suddenly his daddy’s beard is tickling his tummy as he blows raspberries above his belly button. Ike squeals with giggles and tries to push his shirt back down and he wiggles in Negan’s arms.
“DADDY!!! STOOOOOOOPP! DAT TICKLES!!” He squeals, giggling, his little face a bright red.
Negan laughs and gently tugs his shirt back down, covering his son’s tummy.
“I told you it’d tickle!” He chuckles.
Ike giggles. “Bad daddy!”
Negan pretends to pout like he’s been scolded, but it doesn’t last long as both he and his son start grinning from ear to ear and one giggles while the other laughs softly, kissing his head.
“Should daddy tickle mommy with his beard? Hmmm? Give her tickle kisses?” Negan asks, his eyes dancing with happiness as he glances up at the most beautiful woman in the world, then his daughter standing next to her, before looking back at his son.
“NO!” His wife says, giggling.
“YES!” Both his kids say, giggling.
Negan smirks and looks up at his wife, once more. “Sorry, baby. Looks like it’s 3 to 1. The kids voted I give you tickle kisses!”
“You do it, Negan Alexander, and you might get slapped!”
He chuckles at the threat that has no heat behind the words as he walks closer to her. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, sweetheart. It’s been too fuckin’ long since we’ve kissed.”
He grins and steps right in front of his beautiful wife. Biting his bottom lip between his teeth, he gently sets Ike down, smiling when the little boy wraps his arms ‘round his leg, holding onto him. Negan reaches up with both hands and gently cups his wife’s cheeks, gazing into her eyes.
“Kiss me, baby, and I’ll take you home.”
A bright smile lifts her lips up as a teasing glint is seen in Leigh’s eyes as she leans into her husband’s touch.
“Promise?” She whispers.
“I fuckin’ promise promise, baby.” Negan replies, his voice a low murmur.
A moment later, their lips meet as he lowers his head and she lifts herself up on her tiptoes, both with their eyes closed. Negan moans softly against the soft lips pressed to his as he feels his wife wrap her arms ‘round his neck, pulling him closer. He drops his hands from her cheeks and lets them settle on her hips as he gives a slight tug, bringing her body closer to his.
Their lips part slightly as his tongue lightly runs along hers, begging permission for something terribly missed over the years. Gaining the needed permission, Negan lets his tongue glide across his wife’s, engaging in a dance not performed in almost a decade, but never forgotten. Slowly pulling back, he places a quick kiss on her plump lips once more before completely lifting his head and opening his eyes.
His smile turns into a lazy smirk as he takes into the sight of his well and properly kissed wife who brings a hand from ‘round his neck to rest against her lips as her eyes flutter open and gaze up him.
“So fuckin’ worth the risk of getting slapped.”
Leigh’s laughter fills his body and soul, making him feel like the happiest motherfucker on the God forsaken planet where the dead walk and the living fight each other. His son’s fit of giggles only makes him happier as he scoops him back up, perching him on his hip. His daughter’s giggle and eye roll makes him chuckle before pulling her to him, wrapping his free arm ‘round her, hugging her close.
“So...shall Daddy take his family home now?” He asks, glancing at the three most important people in his life.
A chorus of “Yes”’s ring out from the kids while his wife smirks and nods.
Summary: After an incident in the Sanctuary, Leigh takes matters into her own hands. What will Negan’s response be?
Warning(s): Language. Angst. Attempted rape. Violence. Death. Slight Panic Attack. Anxiety. Leigh being a badass. Negan caught off guard (no pun intended). Mentions of what could be considered self-harm. Daddy kink, but not really. You’ll see. Protective Negan. Fluff. Sexual Innuendoes. Puns (Sorry Not Sorry!). Happy ending. Not Beta’d. I just finished writing this and had to post it! Sorry for any errors.
Author’s Note(s):
I cut my hair myself, usually every 2 weeks, but no more than 3 weeks. I just can’t have my hair touch my ears; it makes my anxiety 10 times worse, and in a way, I kinda explain the reason behind that in this story. I was cutting my hair tonight, (it’s now 2:30 am, 5/24/2020) and I thought of this story idea and Negan’s reaction to the main character having short hair.
Also, if any of the warnings are triggering for you, please don’t force yourself to read. The last thing I’d want to do is trigger someone into having a panic attack. Feel free to give me any feedback, thoughts, questions, comments and/or concerns you have with the story. I love hearing from y’all!
As always, if you’d like to be added to my taglist, just let me know and I’ll happily add you!!
Word Count: 5,301. (A lot, I know, but I think it’s worth it, and I just couldn’t get everything I wanted across in less words, so enjoy!)
Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)
Characters: Negan. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). Simon. Dr. Carson. 3 unnamed Original Male Characters. Sanctuary People.
Normally, I never let anything or anyone catch me off guard. Or at least...I tried not to. Due to having anxiety, I was usually hyper-aware of shit going on. But, today, my anxiety had eased off after the relaxing morning I’d had with my husband. We’d spent the morning, snuggled up in his big king-sized bed, just shooting the shit and goofing off.
He didn’t have to go out on a run today, so there was no need to rush the morning like we normally had to 95% of the time. Eventually, though, the day had to get started. Dwight came knocking on the door, interrupting our relaxation time, saying he needed my husband for something. Being the man my husband is, he grumbled, cussed Dwight out, and then got outta bed while apologizing to me for the interruption and assuring me we’d finish relaxing when he got back later.
After a kiss, and a soft “I love you,” he was gone. Off to do what he did. It was my day off, so I laid in bed for a little longer before I too got up, dressed, and made my rounds. As the top female Savior, something I’d worked my ass off, fought for, and took seriously, I said hi to who I needed to, did what I needed to, and finally, sat down under my favorite tree out by the greenhouses.
I laid my leather jacket on the ground next to me, leaving me in my usually black t-shirt, holey but patched up and well worn blue jeans, and faded brown leather boots. Strapped to each thigh was a holster. In the right one was my signature gun, a .357 Magnum, 6-shot revolver. In the left holster, I kept my handcrafted 6 inch blade that I made back when I was 15, well over half a decade, shit closer to a decade ago, considering I was almost 25.
Bending my knees, and pulling them close in a comfortable position, I propped up the notebook I usually kept in my leather satchel with two backup knives, an extra gun, ammo, and a spare notebook for work along with several pens and pencils. The writing equipment was a rare commodity these days, so I always kept them close to me.
As I was writing a story I’d started a few days prior, I zoned out just a bit, focusing on it. I’d started writing when I was just 12 years old, and kept the habit up, even now, 3 years after the world ended and the dead started walking back in 2020 after the Coronavirus outback after the new year, new decade had started.
I was writing, losing myself in the words I printed on the paper in my chicken scratch. I say chicken scratch ‘cause, well...that’s basically what it was. As a lefty, my handwriting wasn’t necessarily the best, and a doctor’s prescription note was probably more legible. It was a mixture between slanted and curved print and semi-elegant at times cursive.
But, it was my handwriting, and I could read it. My husband sometimes had difficulty reading it, but he’d always put his black-rimmed glasses on, and fuck if they didn’t make him look sexier than he already was. Because of that, I sneakily wrote a little sloppier when I knew he’d have to read something from my notes about the runs I went on.
It was all an excuse to see him with those glasses perched on his nose, giving him that sexy professor look. He thought they made him look ridiculous, but I loved it. Since I was writing and zoned out, I wasn’t nearly as focused on my surroundings. I didn’t think I had to be. The tree was my safe spot when I wasn’t with my husband.
The Sanctuary was a relatively safe place, and that was thanks to the rules that were in place. So, it’d make sense that I wouldn’t focus on my surroundings as much and relax a bit as I wrote. But, boy was I wrong. I just didn’t realize it till it was far too late. Before I realized what was happening, I was being punched in the right side of my face, slinging my head to the side, as my notebook and bag were jerked away from me and my hair was roughly pulled, jerking my head backwards.
I went to grab my gun and my knife, but they’d already been taken from me. My eyes flirted back and forth in front of me, trying to process what was going on. But, everything was blurry and I was dizzy from the hit. I could barely make out three men close to me, far too close to me. They were basically on top of me.
Fuck. One of them actually was. I could feel the weight of him straddling my thighs, keeping me from standing. I couldn’t hear anything as the beating of my heart flooded my ears. I tried to fight back as best as I could, but the other two men grabbed my hands and jerked them away from my body and pinning them to the ground as they shoved my upper body down.
When they jerked my arms away, I felt, more than heard, my left shoulder dislocate. I clenched my jaw. The pain wasn’t anything new. I’d been dealing with a shoulder that dislocates when I fuckin’ sneeze since I was 13 years old. The pain, when it happened, was now at a tolerable level since I was so used to it happening.
I didn’t cry out. I knew not to. Plus, the wasn’t the type of person I was. I knew what was ‘bout to happen. It, like my shoulder, was something I’d had to put with for years growing. It wasn’t anything new either. But, that didn’t mean it was enjoyable. It was anything but. I barely processed my jeans being jerked down my hips and past my knees.
I could just barely hear the men laughing and joking around with each other, talking ‘bout what they were going to do to me and wondering why the fuck I was wearing two pairs of boxers under my jeans. I watched them, as best as I could with my vision being what it was. When the blurriness faded just enough, I could make out their features and recognized them as members of the new group that was brought in last week.
Members I’d brought into the Sanctuary. Into my house. I dropped my head back down to the ground and groaned to myself. I let my body go slack, waiting for the perfect time. When the men realized I wasn’t struggling anymore, they laughed and the two dumbfucks holding my arms down eased up on their grip.
The man on my legs lifted himself up just enough push his own pants down. Their easing up on their grip was their mistake and ultimately what led to their demise. Since they weren’t paying attention to me, thinking I’d just given up, and instead focusing on getting their baby carrot sized dicks outta their pants, I was able to strike back.
I immediately brought both my hands up, fingers curled in to form perfect fists without worry of possibly breaking my thumbs, ignoring the protest of my left shoulder, and cocked both the men on my sides straight in the noses. I internally smiled at the sounds of their noses breaking and their screams of pain.
They stumbled back just a little bit, hands covering their faces as they clutched their noses in an attempt to stop the extensive amount of blood falling. Clearly, I caught the man on top me off guard with my actions and he was shocked for a moment. It was perfect. I bucked him up off me, managed to jerk my pants up as I stood.
All one fluid motion.
Since he was still obviously in shock at me suddenly fighting back, he stumbled, tripping, and falling backwards on the ground. He tried to scurry backwards as fast as as he could. Despite being 5’3”, I was able to stay with him. I slammed my boot down on his stomach, making him howl in pain and wheeze as he struggled to get the air back that i’d just forced outta his lungs.
I kept my foot on his gut, putting most of my weight on it, digging the worn sole into his abdomen. He let out a sad excuse for a grunt as I did. I just smirked. This fucked had no idea who he’d fucked, or tried to fuck with. I leaned down and started pummeling the shit outta his face, keeping him in place with my foot.
Since he couldn’t get fresh air back into his lungs because of the position of my foot, he was too weak to try and fight back. To say I was a little disappointed at not having a challenge, would be like saying the dead weren’t walking around. It was a lie. I was disappointed, and I fueled that disappointment in with the anger as I literally beat him to death.
He kept trying to apologize, tried to plead with me, to not kill him, but I didn’t give a fuck. He was ‘bout to rape me, and I’d had ‘nough of that in my life. I wasn’t putting up with it. I eased up just before I knew he was about to die. Gave him false hope into letting him think his words had affected me. I let him get one last breath in as I completely lifted my foot off his torso.
“Than-” He started to say, but I cut him off as I slammed my boot into his face, effectively crushing his skull.
“Don’t fuckin’ thank me, prick.” I muttered to him as I wiped my boot off on his once clean but now bloody clothes. “You fuckin’ ruined my goddamn favorite fuckin’ pair of boots, asshole.”
Before I turned away from him, I spit on his crushed skull. Since it was destroyed, I didn’t have to worry ‘bout him coming back as a dean’un. I was a little sad that I wouldn’t get to kill him a second time, but he’d gotten what he deserved. Turning to the other two dumbfucks, I repeated my actions, and did to them exactly what I’d just done to their friend.
I knew my husband was going to be pissed that I killed these men, instead of letting him do it, but I’d deal with that. I wasn’t going to let these fuckers back inside the relatively safe concrete walls of the factory that was the Sanctuary. By the time I was down stomping in the skull of the third man, I looked up, as I finished, and noticed that I’d gathered quite an audience.
Including Simon. The right-hand man, third person in charge of the Sanctuary. His, and everyone else’s, eyes were wide, and everyone was silent. I knew I was gonna be in trouble since they’d just seen me stomp the life outta three men, but I didn’t give a fuck. I had shit to do. I gathered up my weapons, my jacket, and bag after shoving my shit into it and stormed inside the Sanctuary, flipping everyone off, not wanting to deal with their gawking.
Not caring ‘bout my bloody appearance, I made my way to the commissary, needing to grab a few things before I went back to my room. I found what I needed: a new pair of jeans identical to the ones i was wearing, a new t-shirt, undergarments, a pair of boots and a special item, an unopened, brand new boxed set of hair clippers.
Once I had what I needed, I stormed up to the room I share with my husband, stripping down to my bra and one pair of boxers when i get there.
Leigh’s P.O.V. ~ Now
“What the fuck was that fuckin’ shit out there, Leigh?!?”
I sigh as I hear my husband storm into our room, the door slamming shut behind him. I look at myself in the mirror as I lay the scissors down on the bathroom counter by the sink and pick up the clippers. Turning them on, I don’t reply to my husband. Not wanting to explain to him what happened at the moment.
I stare at myself in the mirror as I bring the clippers up to my shortened hair. I press the #2 guard to my head and move it backwards from my forehead to the back of my head, sticking to the once familiar hairline I used to see and live by religiously. I watch as the hair falls, joining the rest of my once long, curly locks, on the floor by my feet. I use my fingers to guide my movements, making sure I don’t go too high and completely fuck up my hair.
Once I have the hairline visible, separating what I want to keep and what I want to shave off, I move the guard down below my ear and with practiced ease, I shave the sides and back of head, getting rid of the hair. Keeping an eye on myself, making sure I don’t fuck up my haircut, not that I would since I used to do this every 2-3 weeks, I watch as my husband steps into the bathroom.
I watch as his eyes nearly bulge outta their sockets when he sees me. I watch as the anger vanishes from his face and body, being replaced with worry, sadness, and a hint of curiosity. I watch as his eyes traveling over the reflection of my face in the mirror, taking in my black eye, bruised and split open cheek, covered in blood and even the nasty black eye I’m now sporting.
I watch as he slowly moves his eyes up to meet mine in the mirror.
“What...what are you doing?” He asks softly.
My left eyebrow shoots sky high as I look at him. My husband rarely says a sentence without cussing every other word. And yet...he just asked a simple question without one sentence enhancer thrown in.
“What the fuck’s it look like I’m doing? I’m cutting my hair.” I say. “Decided I needed a new fuckin’ look. Don’t you fuckin’ love it?”
I know I’m being Captain fuckin’ Obvious at the moment, and a bit harsh, but I’m not ready to tell him what happened. That’s for after I get done. Cutting my hair is the only thing keeping me from completely shutting down and giving in to the panic attack that’s trying to take over. I watch as he lets out a deep breath as he slowly steps into the bathroom, padding across the tiled floor to me.
He places his hands on my shoulders and I do my best not to flinch. But he still sees it and quickly lifts his hands off me, holding them up in a surrendering pose. I know he’d never hurt me, and he was the one to save my life after this shit hole of a world started three years ago. But, I can’t help it. The feeling of those fuckers’ hands on me, plus the fact that my shoulder is still dislocated, keeps me from wanting to be touched.
“Can...let me help. Please, sweetheart.” My husband’s soft drawl meets my ears.
“No. I need to do this myself.” I reply, tightening my grip on the clippers.
I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat as he swallows deeply and nods. I keep my eyes on his in the mirror and finish cutting my hair. It’s been three years since I’ve cut my hair, but the muscle memory is still there. It’s like riding a bike. My husband watches as I finish shaving the sides of my head down to where there’s just a bit of peach fuzz.
Switching the clippers off, I replace the guard with a #1 and go back over the bottom hairline on the base of my neck. Once I have that done, I take the guard off completely and just put the metal of the clippers to the back of my neck doing my best not to flinch at the burning heat coming off it as it meets my skin.
I take that little strip down so there’s no hair there, running along along the hairline on my neck. I use the blending guard and even out the area, making the hair have a fade. Replacing the blending guard with the #7, I bring it up to the patch of hair on my head, and trim it down. When I finish, my feet are covered with a mountain of what used to be the long, thick, curly hair on my head.
My neck and shoulders are also covered with the little strands of hair that I buzzed off. Setting the clippers on the counter, I run my hands over the buzz cut I now sport and take in a deep, shaky breath. I let my head drop down, pressing my chin to chest and take another shaky breath in after letting out one.
“Baby?” My husband asks softly.
I lift my head and look up at him. My eyes roam over the unzipped black leather jacket he’s wearing over his standard white t-shirt and down to the grey jeans he’s wearing, held up by two leather belts. I let my eyes rest on his feet, no longer hidden by his own pair of black combat boots, but rather a pair of white socks.
Taking in another deep breath, I bring my eyes up to meet his. I can see the worry swimming in his muddy water brown eyes. I shake my head as i start to take my bra off and push my boxers down, stepping outta them as the pool ‘round my ankles.
“I need a shower.” I mumble and step ‘round him to walk to the stunning shower we share.
I grip the knobs tightly as I turn the water on, as hot as it’ll go. I need to feel the pain of the burning water over my skin. If I don’t, I know I’ll give in to that panic attack that’s already on the verge of consuming me. Stepping into the shower, I glance back at my husband over my shoulder.
“You can…” I mumble.
He nods as he understands what I’m trying to say. I look away, for the first time since we met, and eventually became intimate, not wanting to watch him undress. I know that if I were to watch, I’d see those assholes tugging their pants down, and I don’t want that. I don’t want my husband to be mixed in with them.
Standing under the burning hot water, feeling it flow over and pelt my skin, I bring my hands up and tightly grip what’s left of my hair, tugging on it. I feel Negan step into the shower, behind me. I don’t have to look. I know he’s there. I can feel the heat rolling off his skin, along with the worry and helplessness.
He hasn’t seen me like this in three years, and even then, it wasn’t this bad. I blindly reach for the bottle of men’s body wash he and I share and I vigorously scrub my body with it. Trying to get the touch and the blood of those men off me. It takes four harsh washes and rinses before I even begin to feel clean.
Negan just stands behind me, leaning against the back wall of the shower. He’s giving me my space while still letting me know he’s right there if I need him. The bottle slips outta my hands when I go to pour more of the soapy liquid into my palm. I’d leave it there, but Negan gently reaches around me, picking it up.
I hear the bottle open and can tell he’s pouring some into his own hands. I figure he’s just gonna wash his body until I feel his soft and gentle touch on my skin. I flinch and tremble at first, but eventually give into the feeling of him touching me. He takes his time, gently washing me, letting me get clean for the final time.
Letting me know that it’s ok. That it’s over. That’s he’s got me. That he’ll take care of me. Neither of us say a word as he takes the removable showerhead from it’s dock and gently rinses me off after he turns the cold water on, letting the temperature of the water mix until it’s no longer burning, but rather warm and gentle.
He lets the showerhead drop and dangle as he turns the water off and steps out. I keep my eyes closed and feel him wrap a soft towel around me. I open my eyes and bring them to meet his, only to find him staring at my dislocated shoulder. He blinks and his tongue darts out just a little from between his lips.
“Want me to put it back in place, sweetheart?”
I nod slowly.
“Put your right arm ‘round my waist, baby, and I will.”
I follow his soft command and a moment later, I feel his palms against my left shoulder. He’s helped me pop my shoulder back into place enough over the last few years that he knows what he’s doing. I suck in a deep, shaky breath right as he pops it back into place. I bit my lip to hold back the whimper from the pain.
As soon as he’s done, he wraps both his arms ‘round me and just holds me close as I bury my face against his wet chest. We don’t say another word for a solid 10 minutes. He just holds me as we stand in the bathroom, water pooling ‘round our feet. Eventually, he gently scoops me up in his arms and carries me to bed.
Sitting down on it, he just holds me in his lap, not saying anything. I know it’s his way of helping me get outta the panic attack and also letting me know that he’s listening when I’m ready to talk. It takes me a hot minute before I get the words out, and even then they’re just a whisper.
“They...they were trying to rape me.”
I hear him let out a growl and his arms tighten ‘round me, protectively. That’s his number one rule. Rape is not allowed. Followed by the prohibition of abusing women and children. He doesn’t say a word, letting me continue. I tell him everything that happened, as I tremble in his arms. He just holds me close, softly rubbing my back and taking even breaths to help me subconsciously focus on keeping my own breathing even.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, baby.” He finally murmurs after I finish recounting the events. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. They got what they deserved. I just wish I could’ve introduced them to Lucille.”
My eyes flirt over to the barbed-wire baseball bat propped up against the wall by our bedroom door. She’s surprisingly clean. I guess Negan didn’t have to dish out any punishments today. Only I did.
“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, though, baby.” He whispers in my ear.
I look up at him, confused. “Proud?”
He nods. “Mmhhmm. You shut that shit down, and kept your cool until you were up here. I don’t know how you fuckin’ managed that, but I’m not surprised. I heard what you did, heard how you described it, and fuck, baby. I wish I’d seen you go Rambo on their asses. You’re my badass girl. I’m proud of you.”
A small smile tugs at my lips. Despite the events of the day, and me doing what I did, my husband still manages to make me smile. He slowly brings one hand up, keeping it in my line of sight, and cups my good cheek.
“Will you let me send Carson up here to stitch your cheek up and get you checked out?”
His eyes search mine, waiting for my reply, and hoping I’ll let him. I nod against his palm, and he lets out a deep breath. He reaches over to the nightstand and plucks his radio off it. His thumb pressed against the side button.
“Carson. Get your fuckin’ ass up to my room now, and bring your bag. Fuckin’ now.” He growls into the receiver.
“Yes, sir.” Comes the doctor’s reply not even a moment later.
Negan then pushes the button down again and talks.
“Simon. Bring two plates of food up to my room. Now. And make sure it’s some good shit too.”
Simon replies in the affirmative and Negan sets his radio down. He looks back at me and places his palm back against my good cheek. A gesture that always makes me relax.
“Can I ask why you cut your hair?” He asks softly.
“I refuse to let another man tug me around by hair, guiding me to do his bidding, especially during a situation like earlier. It was a flashback to my dad doing what he did. It’s why I’ve also cut my own hair. It’s the one thing I about my body that I can control. So, I keep it short and no man will ever be able to use my hair against me again.” I say, the truth just spilling out. “Plus, having it touch my ears, always made my anxiety ten times worse.”
He knows what my dad did, and he’s known that tugging on my hair was a hard limit for me. So, he never did it, which is why I let my hair grow out. I felt safe around him. I still do. But, having long hair is just a liability, and I refuse to be put in that situation again. He nods in understanding.
“I’m gonna miss your curls, though.” He says. “And waking up with a mouthful of your hair in my mouth.”
I can’t help but giggle at that. It’s true. Most mornings, he’d wake up, sputtering to spit out the strands of my hair that ended up in his mouth as we slept next to each other.
“I left enough on top so you can still play with my hair, babe. And, there’s still enough to run your fingers through it.” I assure him.
“Can I?”
I nod and a moment later, I feel his fingers on his other hand stroke through my wet hair, lightly massaging my scalp as he does. I let out a soft moan at the feeling and lean into his touch on my cheek, closing my eyes. He chuckles as he plays with my hair.
“If that’s your reaction to me doing that every single fuckin’ time, I could get used to it. And I’ll just have to get used to having an even stiffer hard on from the soft moans.” He smirks as he looks at me.
I blush and open my eyes looking up at him. “You're my husband. I think I can manage helping you out with the baseball bat you have in your pants.”
He laughs softly. “Yea?”
I grin. “Mmhhmm. You’re fond of Lucille. I’m quite fond of your own bat.”
He grins, showing off his dimples. “I’m fuckin’ fond of you, baby. Have been since we first met in the woods. Why else do you think I got rid of the wives years ago?”
I try not to grin as I shrug. “It was the only way you were getting in my pants and scoring a homerun.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Not the only reason, baby. It was because I love you, Leigh.”
I grin from ear to ear and turn my head to place a soft kiss to his palm. “I love you too, Negan.”
Before he can say anything else, there’s a timid knock on the door.
“Come the fuck in!” Negan calls out, holding me close.
Dr. Carson comes in. He’s no longer as nervous as he used to be when I first showed up. But he’s still a little nervous around the man. I’ve gotten Negan to ease up on the fear of himself he’s instilled in people, and gotten him to be nicer in the way he treats folks. He’s not the bat-wielding lunatic he was when we first met.
He’s the man I always knew he was.
A soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather.
My soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather.
After Carson checks me out, determines nothing’s broken, assures me that everything is good, and stitches my cheek up, he leaves. Negan helps me get dressed in a pair of his boxers under my new jeans and one of his shirts before he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. Simon comes in shortly after I finish getting dressed, holding a tray of food for Negan and I.
His eyes widen as he looks at me, taking in my new appearance.
“What, Si? Never seen a girl with short hair before?” I ask, teasing.
He shakes his head. “I have. I just wasn’t expecting you to have cut your own. It looks good on you, fitting.”
I smile. “Thanks, Si.”
Leaning up, I kiss his cheek and then kick him out before Negan can Lucille him for staring at me. My husband knows Simon’s like a dad to me, the dad I never had, and that there’s nothing there. He just gets jealous and protective over me, not liking other men to stare. And, for once, I’m thankful, given the events of today.
As we eat, Negan and I stay on the bed, me snuggled up to his side. When we’re finished though, I look up at him.
“I have to tell you something else.” I say.
His eyebrow raises and he looks at me, grining. “What’s that? You planning on buzzing anything else?”
I laugh and playfully slap his bare chest. “No, asshole.”
He pretends to be hurt and rubs his chest, grinning. “Damn, girl. That hurt.”
I laugh and kiss his chest where I smacked him. “Feel better, Daddy?”
He grins that dimpled grin again and nods. “Mmhhmm. Now, what else you gotta tell me, babygirl?”
I smirk. “Well, Daddy…you see...”
He growls low in his throat. “Don’t tease me, little girl.”
I giggle. “I’m not, Daddy.”
I bring my hand down to rub my tummy.
“You full from eating?” He asks, covering my hand on my tummy, rubbing what he thinks is a food baby.
“Nope. But, it’s nice to see you already rubbing my tummy. I can happily get used to this over the next 7 months.”
“7 months?” His brow creases in confusion for a moment before his eyes widen. “You...you’re...we’re…?”
I giggle and nod as I lean up to kiss him softly.
“Yes, honey. I’m pregnant.” I say. “I’m 2 months along, and found out a few days ago. I was working on a story earlier, and that was gonna be how I told you, but shit happened, so I figured I’d just tell you.”
He lets out a high pitched squeal that I never would’ve expected from him, and pulls me right back into his arms and his lap. His beard tickles my neck as he grins against it, placing a soft kiss there. I giggle and wrap my arms ‘round him. Like I said, he’s a soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather.
My soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather and I’m his buzzed haired girl.
Request: ZA!Negan and he has Rick and co. kneeling on the ground and there’s a beautiful girl next to daryl that looks familiar. but he can’t really see her. as he’s talking the girl keeps smarting off. he makes her look at him and it’s his wife who got lost from him in the beginning right after he made the leader of the savors. she knew it was Negan by the voice and the way he was talking. turns out one of the guys left her while on a run. PURE FLUFF AFTER HE FINDS OUT ITS HER. Also she’s badass and Rick has kept her safe after he found her.
Requested By: @mychemicalimagines
Summary: Negan comes across a familiar face that turns his upside-down world right side up.
Warning(s): Fluff. Language. Smut. Angst. Sexual tension.
Word Count: 5,920
Author’s Note(s):
So, @mychemicalimagines sent me this request, and after talkin’ ‘bout it for a hot minute, I couldn’t help but start writing this. And, bud, I hope this turned out how you were wantin’ it to.
Also, Negan doesn’t have a harem of wives in this story. We decided that he wouldn’t be a cheater, but rather, he’d be too distraught for a reason you’ll soon find out, that he wouldn’t take another woman to be his wife.
As for the title, I got it from the song “Lucille” by Kenny Rodgers, but the name itself does play a key part in the story.
“I’m sorry, boss. She didn’t make it.” Simon says.
I stop in my tracks and turn to look at my right hand man. My heart tightens as his words process in my mind. Even though my heart’s tightening at the moment, I don’t let my emotions show.
“What the ever-loving fuck do you fuckin’ mean, Simon? She didn’t fuckin’ make it?” I hiss, my fingers gripping my baseball bat tightly.
Simon has the grace to lower his eyes as he repeats what he just told me. Once the words leave his lips for a second time, I reach forward and grasp the collar of his shirt in my free hand. I jerk him towards me, getting up in his face.
“YOU HAD ONE FUCKIN’ JOB, SIMON! ONE FUCKIN’ JOB! AND THAT WAS TO FUCKIN’ KEEP HER FUCKIN’ SAFE! GODDAMIT!” I yell.
He doesn’t flinch, but lowers his eyes to look at his chest. I shove him away.
“I want you to fuckin’ go back out there and get her fuckin’ body! She deserves to be buried fuckin’ proper. Not left out there with those goddamn fuckers! Do you fuckin’ understand me?” I demand.
He nods. “Yes, boss.”
I storm off before the tears can spill from my eyes like they’re threatening to do. As soon as I’m back in my room, I slam the door slam so hard that the photo on the wall falls off and crashes to the floor. I lean against the door, and slide down till my ass hits the ground.
I pull my knees up to my chest, wrap my arms ‘round my shins and sob like a damn two-year-old child. The love of my life, my everything, my whole fuckin’ world, my wife, ain’t ever fuckin’ coming home now. I’m never gonna be able to wrap my arms ‘round you from behind as you’re cooking spaghetti again.
I’m not gonna be able to fall asleep with you tucked in my arms. I’m never going to be able to kiss your lips or your forehead. I’m never gonna feel your arms wrap ‘round me. Or feel you run your fingers through my hair as you try to calm me down.
You’re never gonna lay your head on my chest at night when we’re relaxing after hours of making love. I’m never going to hear you say “I love you” again. I knew I shouldn’t have let you go out on that run this morning, but you were just so fuckin’ stubborn and you pulled that puppy dog look that you know I can never say no to.
If only I had. Then you’d be here, safe and sound.
Present Day:
Since that fateful day a couple years ago, I’ve put up walls, distanced myself from others, and turned into a ruthless leader, ruling with an iron fist. I don’t take any shit from anybody. Which leads to me standing in front of Rick the Prick and a handful of his men.
A kid, ginger, an Asian, a sick looking woman, a couple of other fierce looking women, and one woman that looks familiar, but I can’t place why. They’re all kneeling in front of me. I can feel the fear radiating off of all of ‘em, ‘cept for one. That one woman that seems somewhat familiar.
“Pissin’ our pants yet?” I tease, but still keep my tone threatening.
Everyone in the lineup cowers. But one. My men, the Saviours, all stand behind the group kneeling on the gravel patch. Not a single person answers me, but that’s alright. I’m not expecting an answer. I strut ‘round in front of Rick and his crew.
“Do you know who I fuckin’ am?” I taunt, swinging Lucille up to my shoulder.
“Yea. A fuckin’ asshole.” The smartass woman says.
Normally, I’d be fuckin’ pissed at someone being a smartass to me, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to be mad at this woman. There’s just something ‘bout her that’s piqued my interest. I just wish I fuckin’ knew what it was, but no worries; I’m sure I’ll find out before the end of the night.
I go through my spiel ‘bout how I’m the big bad wolf, and that they all work for me now. Their shit is my shit. The woman that doesn’t cower once at my actions keeps smarting off to me. Her voice sounds familiar as shit, but I don’t let it cloud my judgment.
There’s no way it could be you.
My mind must be playing fuckin’ tricks on me since it’s been two years since Simon told me that you didn’t make it. I glance at my right hand man, and he seems a little outta sorts. But, I’ll deal with that later. Maybe he’s dealing with his own shit too.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you for fuckin’ killin’ my damn men, Rick. That’s shit’s not cool. Not cool at all. And, I’m gonna fuckin’ show you just how not cool that shit is.” I say.
Rick lowers his eyes, and I can see his body tremble in fear. The kid next to him just gives me a one-eyed stink-eye glare. It doesn’t take me long to realize that the kid is Rick’s very own fuckin’ son. I dive into a very eery version of “Eenie Meenie Moe.”
“You killed all my men, Rick.” I hiss at the man.
“Your men? How are they yours? You give birth?”
I jerk my head at the familiar-ish woman who just keeps one smartass comment after another coming my direction. I can’t help but let at out a deep-bellied laugh at her last remark. But, at the same time, it’s something you’d say, and it makes my heart constrict.
“Oh-ho. Looks like someone’s got a fuckin’ mouth on ‘em!” I taunt.
“Look who’s fuckin’ talkin’! I swear, you must really like the sound of your own voice.” She retorts.
I swing my bat, Lucille, in front of the woman that has yet to cower in front of me, and keeps being a total fuckin’ smartass. I notice a spot on the back of her neck, just under her left ear, and I stop everything. My breath catches in my throat. My heart stops beating.
I never thought I’d see that mark again. I never realized how much I’d miss seeing it until I couldn’t see it anymore. The tight grip I had on my bat, Lucille, loosens slightly, but not ‘nough to let her slip from my fingers. The woman still has yet to lift her head, so I crouch down in front of her.
I reach my leather covered hand forward, place two fingers under her chin, and tilt her head back. The woman’s eyes meet mine and it’s like life just fuckin’ pauses. My heart starts beating ten times faster than it has in years. The blood rushes to my ears.
My mouth goes dry and I lick my lips, while I struggle to form a single word.
“Lucille?” I ask, quietly.
You give me that signature smile of yours that I fell in love with twenty years ago when I met you for the first time at the school I coached at. I just stare at you, not believing that you’re actually in front of me. I shift from a crouched position and drop to my knees.
I move my fingers from under your chin to cup your cheek. You lean into my touch immediately. Your eyes drift shut as you nuzzle my palm. Lucille, my trusty barbed wire baseball bat that I named after you that day, since you’d given to me years ago, drops from my fingertips and I hear her clatter to the ground.
I hear a few of my men let out hushed murmurs and an even quieter “Uh, Boss?” from Simon. But, I don’t pay attention to any of that. My focus is on you. You’re alive. You’re fuckin’ alive.
“Lucille, baby?” I murmur.
Your eyes open and you look at me. “Hi, honey. Miss me?”
My heart swells and I instantly break down. I pull you off your knees and into my lap. I plop down on my ass, not caring ‘bout the gravel digging into me. I wrap both my arms ‘round you, and bury my face against your neck. As I sob, you just hold onto me tightly.
I feel a couple of wet drops against my skin, and your body shake in my arms. I realize that you’re crying too.
“I love you, baby. I love you so fuckin’ much.” I whisper between sobs.
You cling to me tighter. “I love you too, Negan.”
After a few minutes, I lift my head up, and look at you. I bring my ungloved hand up, and wipe away your tears. I lean forward and gently press my lips to your forehead. Once I pull back, I realize something. Simon fuckin’ lied to me years ago when he told me you were gone.
I look up at him, and see him swallow deeply. My eyes narrow.
“I’ll fuckin’ deal with you fuckin’ later, you fucker.” I hiss at him.
He nods hesitantly and gulps. I nudge you off my lap, for a second, but only so we can stand up. The rocks digging into my ass are starting to fuckin’ hurt. Once I’m standing, I pull you back into my arms. Your arms snake ‘round my waist and you rest your head against my chest.
I close my eyes as I rest my chin against the top of your head. I feel whole again. When I thought I’d lost you, I felt broken, incomplete even. My life was shattered. My world was turned upside down. Even more so than the fuckin’ world ending.
But now, with you in my arms, my world is right side up again.
“Uh, Boss? What would you like us to do with the Prick and his crew?” I hear Dwight say.
I let out a low growl which has you quietly giggling. I open my eyes, but keep you in my arms. I ain’t letting you go anytime soon. I look at Rick, and motion, with my head, for him to walk over. He hesitantly gets up and walks over to me. He looks at you.
“Uh, Lu? What’s goin’ on?” He asks, still unsure of what’s going on.
You turn your head to the side, but keep it resting against my chest.
“He’s my husband.” You say.
I feel my heart swell with love from hearing you say that. Before the world went to shit, and hell even after it did, you always took pride in me, and the fact that I was your husband.
Rick looks shocked. “Lu? Your husband?”
You nod and tighten your arms ‘round me. I tighten my arms ‘round you too, and bury my face against your neck, taking in a deep breath. Damn. You still smell like vanilla, lavender, and a hint of tobacco.
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby. I thought I’d lost you. I love you, Lucille. So fuckin’ much. You’re the one and only. Forever and always.” I murmur softly into your hair.
I lift my head up after a moment, to see Rick looking at me.
“You saved my wife, eh?” I ask, hiding my emotions behind the walls I’ve built over the last couple of years.
Rick nods. “I found her a couple years ago. She was on her own, and she took down at least fifteen of those walkers by herself. I offered her a safe place with my people. She’s a badass.”
I smile, proud of you. You look up at me, and I gaze down at you.
“You are my little badass, ain’t you, sweetheart?” I tease.
You just grin and nod. “Mmhhmm.”
I look back at Rick. “I know I said I was gonna kill one of your men in exchange for you fuckin’ killin’ thirty of my goddamn men in their fuckin’ sleep, but since you took my wife in, I’ll let it slide, but don’t fuckin’ think for one goddamn fuckin’ minute that if you or any other fucker try any shit like that again, that I won’t shut that motherfuckin’ shit down in a fuckin’ heartbeat. Do you fuckin’ understand me, Rick the fuckin’ Prick?”
He nods, and lets out a breath of relief. “Yes. Loud and clear.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Crystal?”
He nods. “Crystal.”
“Good. Then get your fuckin’ men and women, and get the fuck outta my goddamn sight. I’m keepin’ the fuckin’ RV too. I’ll be by in a fuckin’ week to collect what’s mine. Got it?”
“Yes, Negan.”
I nod and wave my hand, gesturing for him to get outta my sight. He scurries away and rushes over to his son. I watch as you pull away from my embrace and rush over to Rick’s men. At first, I’m confused as shit, until I see you hug Daryl, Glenn, Abraham, and everyone else that I had kneeling on the ground.
I realize that even though I’m your husband, these people have become your family in the last two years. And, I know how you are ‘bout family. They mean the world to you. I don’t try to stop you from saying your goodbyes to these people.
When one of my men tries to stop you, I immediately shut him down by gripping his upper arm and pulling him back with a glare. Watching you hug Carl makes my heart swell with several emotions. Love. Pain. Guilt. Regret. Hurt. I know you’ve always wanted a kid, but that was the one thing I could never give you.
And it breaks my heart. If only I hadn’t have had that accident when I was 17, then maybe I could’ve given you at least one or two kids. Rick the Prick and his crew head out on foot. A couple of my men look at me questioningly. I raise an eyebrow and they turn away.
“Get our shit packed up, boys! We’re goin’ the fuck home!” I shout.
During the ride back to the Sanctuary, I keep you in my arms. I have Dwight drive the pickup truck since you wanted to sit in my lap, and I wasn’t gonna be the one to keep you from getting what you want. You have your legs on either side of my thighs, with your back against the dashboard.
My hands rest on your hips. You play with the zipper of my leather jacket, looking down at your hands. I manage to tear my eyes from your features for a moment to look at Dwight.
“D, I need you to do me a fuckin’ favor when you get back.” I say. “And keep it on the fuckin’ down low until I say otherwise.”
He glances at me before looking back at the road.
“Ok?” He asks, hesitantly.
“Throw Simon in the cells. Feed him that dog food sandwich that you made for Daryl once a day. And don’t give him anythin’ else.” I instruct.
He nods. “Yes, sir.”
You fingers still on my jacket. I look back at you. You look at me with a look of confusion on your face.
“Why?” You ask.
“The fucker fuckin’ lied to me and fuckin’ told me that you were fuckin’ dead. And, when I sent his ass back out to get your body so I could give you a proper fuckin’ burial instead of leavin’ you out there with those fuckers, he came back and told he couldn’t find you. It all makes sense now. You weren’t dead.” I say, lowering my voice to a whisper.
You reach a hand up and cup my cheek, shaking your head.
“No, honey. I wasn’t dead. That asshole left me behind. I had tripped over a fallen tree, got stuck in a hole, and broke my ankle. He told me that you were better off without me. That you didn’t love me anymore. That I made you soft. I didn’t believe him. I knew how much you loved me. After he left me, I managed to get to unstuck, I made a brace for my ankle outta some sticks and my belt. I headed out, in what I thought was the way back to the Sanctuary. I got turned ‘round and lost. I came across a herd of ‘bout fifteen walkers. I had just finished off the last one when Rick found me. I wasn’t in any condition to keep trying to go back home. To get back to you. I tried, honey. I fuckin’ tried. But, no one in Alexandria knew of the Sanctuary, or where it was located, so I couldn’t get any help. I’ve been trying for two years to get back home to you. I just happened to be traveling with them tonight ‘cause we were trying to get Maggie to the Hilltop since she’s pregnant ‘cause they got a doc there.” You explain.
“The fucker left you to fuckin’ die? He’s gonna fuckin’ pay for that, and for fuckin’ lyin’ to me. I wish I’d known you were out there, baby. I didn’t wanna believe Simon when he first told me. I even went out to look for you several times, just so I could either find you alive or find your body so I could give you a proper burial. After a year, I still kept goin’ out to look for you, but a couple of the communities under my control started pushin’ back, and I had to fuckin’ shut that shit down.” I say, placing my hand over yours against my cheek.
“Shh. It’s ok. We’re together now. That’s what matters.”
I nod. “You’re right. As always.”
You smile and my heart beats faster. I always was a sucker for your smile.
“I love you. You know that, right?” I ask.
You nod. “And, I love you too.”
I grin. You lean forward and brush your lips against mine. I sigh, happily into the kiss. This is our first kiss in two damn years. When your tongue traces the seam of my lips, I comply with your wishes, and open my mouth. Our tongues dance together.
After a few minutes, and a very heated kiss that gets me real fuckin’ excited, you pull back, giggling. I chuckle as I reach up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“I still have the same effect on you, don’t I?” I tease.
You blush and nod. “Mmhhmm. Seems like I still have the same effect on you too.”
I laugh. “Of course, you fuckin’ do, sweetheart. “
You grin and kiss me again. Softly this time. Pulling back, you rest your forehead against mine. I close my eyes as our noses touch.
“How’d you know it was me?” You ask, quietly.
“Well, when you first started with your fuckin’ smartass remarks, I thought I recognized your voice, but I just thought my mind was playin’ fuckin’ tricks on me, since today’s the two year mark since I let you go out on that damn run. But then, you made one specific remark that made my heart tighten and I knew it was somethin’ you’d fuckin’ say to me, ‘cause you fuckin’ have before. Yet...I didn’t know for sure until I saw your tattoo.” I explain, finally opening my eyes.
You pull your head back a wee bit, and look at me. “My tattoo?”
I nod and bring my hand up to the left side of your face. I run my finger over the tattoo behind your left ear. It’s the mark I saw in the lineup that let me know it really was you. You blush once you realize what my finger is running over. A few years after we got married. you got a small tattoo behind your ear.
It was a simple N with an L overlapping the N. After you got it, you explained that it was a simple reminder of our relationship. You might’ve also gotten slightly tipsy the night you got it done, so afterwards, you got nervous ‘bout it, and felt like it was stupid.
I thought it was adorable and a sweet gesture. You’d always mentioned getting some sort of tattoo that represented our relationship. Lord knows I got one for us.
“That’s how I knew it was you, sweetheart. I’d recognize that little bit of ink any-fuckin’-where.” I say.
“I guess it wasn’t stupid that I got it then, eh?” You grin.
“Like I’ve told you for years, I never once thought it was stupid. I always thought it was adorable as fuck.”
You giggle. “I know.”
When we get back to the Sanctuary, Dwight parks the truck, and I hop out with you still in my arms. Seems like you don’t wanna be outta my arms any more than I want you outta ‘em. Dwight takes care of what I asked him to, and I carry you up to our room.
Even after Simon told me you were dead, I still refused to move anything of yours outta the room, or change it up. I barely notice all my people as they kneel before me. Before us. I do happen to catch a small group of people that look up at us in shock that quickly turns to happiness.
A pair of new people that came to the Sanctuary a few weeks go to stand up, but the older members who have been here since you were still here quickly tug ‘em back down to their knees. I catch a few words of what they quietly whisper.
“…she’s back.”
“Negan’s wife is alive!”
“That’s Negan’s wife.”
Normally, I’d give ‘em hell for talking while kneeling without my permission to go back to what they were doing, but right now, I’ve got more important things on my mind.
You. And getting you upstairs.
As soon as I get you to our room, I set you down on our bed. I kiss your forehead.
“Don’t move. Unless it’s to get naked.” I say.
You giggle. “Always tryin’ to get in my pants, Negan.”
I chuckle. “You wish. And, can you blame me, doll? You’re fuckin’ hot as shit. But, for now, I’m just gonna start you a bath.”
“A bubble bath?”
I smirk. “Maybe. I can’t give away all my secrets, now can I?”
You laugh. “No. I suppose not.”
I grin and make my way to our connected bathroom. I reach under the bathroom sink, and grab the bottle of bath bubbles. I walk the few feet between the sink and the claw foot bathtub. Turning the hot water on, I adjust it until it’s at the temperature I know you like.
As the water runs, I had the bubble bath liquid to it. Within a few moments, the water is full of bubbles. I light a few candles I had in the bathroom and place them along the ledge beside the tub. Once I have those small tasks completed, I make my way back into my bedroom.
I stop when I see you laying on my bed, completely naked. You still take my breath just like you did the first time I met you, and the first time I saw you naked all those years ago. I suck in a deep breath. The noise has you turning your head towards my direction.
You smile once you see me. You pat the bed next to you.
“C’mere, honey. Lay next to me?” You ask, grinning.
I walk over to you, but I don’t lay beside you. As much as I want to, I can’t. It’s not part of my plan. I stand in between your spread legs. You prop yourself up on your elbows, and look up at me.
“C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get you in the bath.” I say.
“You gonna join me?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.
“Perhaps. But, I got a few things to take care of.”
“Good things or bad things?”
I chuckle. “Good things, baby. Only good things. I promise.”
You smile. “Ok.”
I hold my hand out towards you. You take it. I pull you up and hold you against my body. I brush a strand of hair behind your ear as I lean down as softly kiss you. You wrap your arms ‘round my neck and cling to me. I place my hands under your thighs and lift you up, pulling back from the kiss in the process.
Your legs wrap ‘round my waist, and I carry you into our bathroom. Once I get close to the tub, I slow my movements. I set you down in the tub as soon as my knees hit the side. You slide down my body as you lower yourself into the warm, bubbly water.
After you’re submerged in the water, you lay back against the porcelain white tub. You tilt your head back to look up at me. I can’t help but smile down at you. I reach over and turn the water off when the water’s high ‘nough and to your likings.
I give your forehead a kiss.
“I’ll be right back, ok, honey?” I assure you.
Your eyes close as you nod slowly with a grin spreading across your face. I chuckle as I walk back out into the bedroom and over to the record player you put on our bookcase a few years ago. I flip through our collection of records and find your favorite one.
The second I find it, I grin, and pull it out from between the two records it’s wedged between. I slide the vinyl outta its sleeve and set it on the wheel. Placing the needle on the edge of the vinyl, the music starts playing and drifts through the room.
I hear you let out a happy sigh and a giggle from the bathroom. I chuckle quietly. I’m glad to have you back here. In our home. With me. I grab my walkie-talkie from my belt. I bring it up to my mouth, and push the button on the side down.
“Dwight.” I say.
A second goes by before I get a “Yes?” in response.
“Have someone in the fuckin’ kitchen make a thing of chicken pot pie, mashed potatoes, and creamed corn, and have it sent to my fuckin’ room. ASAP.”
“Yes, sir.”
I clip my walkie-talkie back on my belt and unzip my leather jacket. I toss it over the arm of the couch, tug my red scarf from ‘round my neck, and slip my plain white t-shirt over my head. I set the two articles of clothing next to my jacket. I sit down, take my boots and socks off, and set ‘em at the edge of the couch.
Standing up, I buckle my two belts, unbutton my pants and push ‘em down my legs. My boxers go along with my grey jeans. I scoop ‘em up, and fold ‘em up. I know you’d smack me if I left my clothes laying ‘round the room. You sure did give me hell ‘bout it when we first got together.
The moment I have my clothes situated, I walk over to my dresser, find your favorite t-shirt of mine for you, and a pair of clean boxers for myself. I walk into the bathroom, set the clothes on the counter, and saunter over to where you’re laying in the tub.
I run my hand over your head, getting you to open your eyes. You look up at me with a big smile on your face.
“Hi.” You whisper.
“Hey yourself, darlin’.” I reply softly.
Your eyes drift down my body. The moment you realize I’m naked too, you grin, blush, and giggle. I just chuckle.
“Still room for one more?” I tease.
You nod, excitedly, and shift in the water. You slide forward, and I step in behind you. The bubbly water glides over my tanned skin as I skin down into it. With me having one leg on either side of yours, you scoot back against me. Your back presses against my chest, and I wrap my arms ‘round you.
You place your smaller hands over my much larger ones, and weave your fingers with mine. You rest your head against my shoulder and relax. For the first time in two years, I finally have you back in my arms, with nothing between us. My lips press against your temple and you let out a quiet giggle.
“What?” I ask, chuckling.
“Your beard. It tickles.” You say.
I laugh. “You like it? I can shave this shit.”
You quickly shake your head. “Uh-uh. I like it. Keep it. I wanna see what your scruff will feel like in other places.”
“And you say I’m the one trying to get in your pants.”
You laugh, turning your head to look up at me. I just smile down at you.
“Maybe I am trying to get in your pants.” You tease. “It has been a hot minute.”
I playfully growl. “Don’t tease me, woman.”
You laugh and sit up just ‘nough to kiss my cheek.
“Oh, but we both know you like it when I do.” You murmur.
I chuckle, and tighten my arms ‘round you even more. You just giggle even more.
“There ain’t a fuckin’ doubt in the goddamn world ‘bout that, doll.” I reply.
You smile and relax in my arms again. Yeah, we ain’t had sex, well, made love, if I’m gonna be completely honest, in two years, but that’s the last thing on my mind, regardless of what my dick’s saying. I just wanna make sure that you’re comfortable and relaxed at the moment.
That’s all that I care ‘bout right now. You are my top priority. Always have been since the moment I met you. When the water turns cold, and our fingers and toes look like shriveled up raisins, we finally get outta the tub. I drain the water before getting out.
I grab a fluffy towel and dry you off. After that, I slide my t-shirt over your head, and you just take a deep breath in the moment it’s on you. I smile.
“You good, sweetheart?” I ask, pulling my boxers on.
You step closer to me, run your fingers up my chest, and nodding.
“I’m more than good, Negan. I’m back home with you. In your shirt.” You say, before your lips meet mine.
My arms curl ‘round your waist as I hold you close to my tall frame. Keeping my lips barely against yours, I smile.
“Good. I’m glad you’re home, baby. I’ve missed the fuckin’ shit outta you.” I murmur.
“Mmm. I’ve missed you too.”
I peck your lips one more time before pulling away completely. You whimper the moment I do, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Oh hush,” I tease. “You’ll be back in my arms soon ‘nough.”
You smile. “I’d better be.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I take your hand in mine and together, we walk into the bedroom. Sitting on my desk, is covered tray. I realize it’s your food. I’m not sure when you last ate, but I wasn’t taking any chances. You get settled on your side of the bed, underneath the covers, as I take the cover off the plate and bring it over to you.
You prop yourself up against the pillows, and happily take the plate of food. You scarf it down. Far too quickly for my likings. I frown as I sit next to you. You pause, the fork halfway to your mouth, and look at me.
“What?” You ask.
“You hungry, sweetheart?” I ask.
You nod. “Very much so.”
My frown gets bigger. “When’s the last time you fuckin’ ate?”
Your hesitation answers my question. It’s been a while. Or at least, it’s been a while since you’ve had a decent sized meal. You finally give me a shrug as you finish eating. Once your plate’s clean, I take it and set it on my desk. I look back over at you.
You just pat my side of the bed and look at me, expectantly. I chuckle and answer your unspoken command. I hop into bed next to you. You immediately curl up next to my side, tangling your legs with mine, laying your head on my chest, and draping your arm over my tummy, bending it at your elbow so you can play with my chest hair.
You’ve always loved the fact that I had chest hair. I drape one arm ‘round your shoulders, and let my fingers tangle in your hair. My other hand comes to rest on your arm, where my fingers dance across your skin.
“Negan…” You start.
“Shh…It’s ok, baby. We can talk later. Ok? For now, let’s just enjoy the fact that we’re back in each other’s arms. Yeah?” I ask.
You nod. “Ok.”
I kiss the top of your head.
“I love you, babe.” You murmur, sleepily.
“And, I love you, sweetheart.” I whisper.
I wake the next morning to an empty bed and my heart breaks. Surely yesterday wasn’t a fuckin’ dream. Right? I sigh as I feel my eyes start watering. The tears come, no matter how much I want ‘em not to. After a while, I finally get the motivation to get outta bed.
Sitting up, I swing my legs over the edge. Closing my eyes, I bring a hand up and run it down my face. I open my eyes and see a small sheet of paper on my nightstand.
Negan,
You’re still sleeping, but I’m hungry, and I didn’t wanna wake you. So, I’m going down to the kitchen to get some food. If you wake up before I get back to the room, I hope you’ll come join me?
I enjoyed sleeping in your arms again last night.
I love you.
Your Lucy.
I smile as I re-read the note seven times. You’re actually here! Yesterday wasn’t a fuckin’ dream. I can’t help but chuckle at your note too. Leave it to you to let your tummy dictate your actions. I quickly get up, setting your note back on my nightstand, and get dressed.
I do so in record time. I’ve got to see you again! As soon as I’m dressed in my pair of grey jeans, and white t-shirt, I bound down the several flights of stairs to the kitchen. I don’t even bother with my leather jacket, scarf, or my legendary baseball bat, your namesake.
In a happy mood, I shock a few of my people, but they quickly kneel when they see me. They’re not used to seeing me in such a good mood. I’ve been down in the dumps since the day Simon told me you weren’t coming back. I excitedly fling open the doors to the kitchen and dining room.
The area immediately goes silent at my presence, and everyone drops to kneel. ‘Cept for a group of people over by the line for the food. I wave my hand for everyone else to get back to what they were doing. I make my way over to where the commotion is.
I keep my eyes open, looking for you. That’s when I see that you’re in the midst of the commotion. I rush over to you.
“Always causing trouble, eh, sweetheart?” I tease you quietly.
I wrap my arms ‘round you from behind and kiss your cheek. You relax in my embrace, leaning back against me.
“I’m not trying to. This time.” You reply.
I frown and lift my head up. You turn ‘round in my arms. I look down at you.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Your mouth opens to reply, but before you can, a male voice cuts in.
“Sir, she doesn’t have ‘nough points to get breakfast.”
I jerk my head to look at the man that just said that. My good mood instantly shifts. I glare the man.
“What the hell did you just fuckin’ say to me?” I hiss.
“She doesn’t have ‘nough points to get breakfast. Sir.” He repeats, stuttering slightly.
“Like hell she doesn’t. Do you know who she is?”
He shakes his head. “No, sir.”
“This, right here, this lovely young lady, is my fuckin’ wife! She gets whatever the hell she wants. No questions asked. No smartass fuckin’ comeback. Nothing. She wants it, she fuckin’ gets it.”
“But, sir. She doesn’t have any points, and she’s not listed on the points system.”
“Did I fuckin’ stutter, you fucker? She wants somethin’, she fuckin’ gets it. Now give her some breakfast.”
He hesitates. “But…”
“BUT FUCKIN’ NOTHIN’. GIVE HER SOME FOOD BEFORE I LET YOU AND MY DIRTY GIRL, LUCILLE, HAVE A NICE LITTLE DATE AND GET TO KNOW ONE ANOTHER BETTER.” I yell.
The man flinches and visibly shakes. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
He quickly gets some food on a plate and hands it to you. He gets one for me as well. I take and glare at him. I keep my arm ‘round your waist as we make our way over to the table where I normally sit whenever I decided to sit in the cafeteria.
You sit next to me, and look at me before eating.
“What Lucille were you talkin’ ‘bout, Negan? I ain’t ‘bout to date someone else.” You say.
“You know my bat? The one you gave me?” I ask, hesitantly.
You nod. “Mmhhmm.”
I look down at my food. “Well, after I thought I’d lost you, I named after you. I felt like you were still with me, through her. I know it seems stupid…but…”
You cut me before I can say anymore by placing your hand on my arm. I look up at you.
“Shh. It’s not stupid. In a fucked up kinda way, I think it’s sweet. It’s definitely somethin’ I can see you doin’.” You say.
“Really?” I ask, shocked.
I wasn’t sure how you’d respond to my baseball bat. Or how I do things now. You nod.
“Yes, honey. It’s very Negan-like.” You say with a smile.
“So…you’re not mad?” I ask, quietly.
You shake your head. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”
“I named a fuckin’ baseball bat after you. I’ve changed. The thought of losing you broke me. I’m not exactly the man I was when you were here last time.”
“Shhh. Honey, it’s ok. Losing you broke me too. We’ve both changed. But, I can tell that deep down inside you, you’re still the man I fell in love with all those years ago.”
“Yeah?”
You nod. “Definitely. Plus, you’re more rugged, and I happen to find that really fuckin’ sexy.”
I smirk and bite my bottom lip. “Is that fuckin’ so?”
You blush. “Mmhhm.”
I lean forward and gently kiss you. When the kiss is over, we eat our food. You keep one hand on my thigh, and I keep one arm ‘round your waist. A few minutes later, I look up at the sound of approaching footsteps to see Fat Joey walking towards our table.
He nods his head in my direction. I nod back.
“Fat Joey! What can I fuckin’ do for you?” I ask.
“Nothin’, sir.” He replies.
My brow furrows. “Then what the fuck are you doin’ over here?”
He hesitates. “I came to see Lucille, sir.”
I glance down at you and see you jerk your head up from your food. You grin once you see Fat Joey. He gives you a soft smile.
“Hey!” You say.
“Hi, Mrs. Lucille. I just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re back. It hasn’t been the same without you, ma’am.” Fat Joey says, somewhat nervously.
“Well, I’m glad to be back. It’s good to see you.”
He just smiles. “Well, I’d better get back to it. I’ll see you ‘round.”
“See you later.”
Fat Joey nods at both you and I before he turns and walks away. When you were here last time, everyone fuckin’ loved you. But I can’t blame ‘em, ‘cause I love the shit outta you too. You might be a total badass, but you’re also a total sweetheart too.
“Besides, you’re still soft. You’re my giant teddy bear.” You say after a moment, and it takes me a moment to realize that you’re going back to our earlier conversation.
“How fuckin’ so, doll?” I inquire, glancing at you outta the corner of my eye.
“Well…for starters…you’re six foot two, extremely muscular, lean, and you look scary. ‘Specially with your tattoos and that scruff you got on your face. But, I know you. And, you, honey, are really just a softy. You’re gentle when you kiss me, or hold me in your arms. And, you look so fuckin’ adorable when you sleep. Even though you snore louder than a damn Mack truck barreling down the interstate at 75 miles an hour.”
I chuckle. “I do not fuckin’ snore.”
You laugh. “Yes, Negan. You do. I’ve slept next to you for well over twenty years. You do indeed snore.”
