What Have You Done? Negan X Reader

Part One: Chapter Six

...

I can't do this.

"I can't do this!"

She shoved him off her, scooting away as he gathered himself on the soft matress. He let out a heavy sigh. "Why didn't you tell me that before we started?" His usual grin was on his face, but (Y/N) felt like this one was different. She sniffled, a glare on her face.

You fucking idiot, (Y/N).

"Are you sure this time?" He asked, sitting up on the edge of the bed. She nodded, but didn't say anything. His smile fell. "(Y/N). I really do only have one request that you just can't seem to follow."

"Oh my god, yes." She rolled her eyes. It's annoying how he makes her always answer, espically when more than anything, she would rather stay quiet. All her thoughts might just unravel and she did not want to go back to the broom closet/box. His eyes were lazy, but his smile was alive.

"Careful there, (Y/N)." His voice sounded playful, but his words sounded like a warning. She raised an eyebrow, her right eyebrow, and her eyes glanced him up and down. As he was sitting at the edge of the bed, his back was to her, but she could feel his smile burning into her soul. He was tieing his boots, then he suddenly stood up and began leaving the room without a word. "Where the fuck are you going?" She asked, getting off the bed, following him through the bedroom door. He snatched Lucille off the bar countertop and kept walking to the door, looking back at her, flashing her a grin.

"I've got other wives to screw."

She stopped in her tracks, a disgusted look on her face. She scoffed and turned around, heading to the mini-bar. "What am I supossed to do, stay in here?" She asked, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. "Sure, I could care less. But if you cause any trouble..." He didn't finish his sentence, and she rathered that he didn't. As he was in the doorway, she gulped down a shot of whiskey, her voice raspy, "Hey, where do your other wives stay?"

"Room down the hall."

"Okay, so why am I here and not with them if I'm just 'one of your wives'?"

He paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder, but not looking at her.

"Because you're special." His words gave her a chill as he closed the door behind him. She didn't know what he meant, and she didn't really want to know. She didn't want to be special, and she sure as hell didn't want to be his fuck toy. She yawned, grabbing a whole bottle of malt whiskey, dragging it off and the counter and trudging to the couch. She flopped down, taking sips of it in her short, black dress. Her eyelids felt heavy as she finished off the bottle, hiccups rising in her throat. And as if on cue, the bottle fell to the ground, clinking but not shattering, and she layed down, falling asleep.

...
Why did everything seem to be on cue with her?

~
She stirred as the door opened loudly, but closed quietly. She felt a weight on the edge of the couch near her feet while she awoke, but kept her eyes close. She could feel someone's eyes on her. She slightly opened her right eye, seeing Negan watching her sleep.

Why is he just sitting there? Creepy...

She could feel her dress on the crease of her thigh. She wanted to reach for it and pull it down, she was sure he could see her panties. Was that why he was staring at her? He reached over, pulling her dress down for her, which she was relieved for, but tried her hardest to pretend she was still asleep, but she flinched at his touch.

He sighed and picked up the bottle off the floor, setting Lucille on the glass table in front of him. He set the bottle behind the bar, pouring himself a drink. "I know you're awake. I can tell by your breathing."