What Have You Done? Negan X Reader

Part One: Chapter Seventeen

Negan awoke soundly next to her, his head pounding. "Fuck..." He muttered, rubbing his eyes with his palms. He quickly sat up, which he regretted as soon as he did. He groaned, tossing the blankets off him. Confused by his state, he reached over the side of the bed, grabbing his jeans. He kicked his legs over the edge, pulling them up, standing up to pull them the rest of the way up, buttoning them at his hips.

He glanced over at (Y/N) who slept peacefully on the bed, his bed, soundly on her back and her face tilted to the left, away from him. He smiled at her, brushing a strand of her hair back behind her ear, so he could see her entire face. She was a pretty sleeper, of course. He slowly sat down against the headboard, squeezing his eyes shut, his head pounding in pain. He turned his head to her, watching her chest rise and fall. It brought him a sense of peace, watching her peacefully sleep instead of being so angry all the time.

He knew she had a lot of demons, more like problems, really. He knew he caused most of her pain, who else would right now? Trapped here, she had no one but him. He really did like her, not that he would ever admit it to her, or himself. He convinced himself that she was just leverage, that he can't love her, that he still loved his real and only wife who died an odd seven or so years ago. He convinced himself that she was just Rick's daughter, his only daughter (that he knew of), and that was the only usefulness she was to him.

He reached out to her, putting his hand over hers. It was a sweet moment, until she startled awake, making him jump, hitting his head against the headboard. "Jesus- fuck..." He groaned, holding his head in his hands.

"Well, goodmorning." She said, sitting up against the headboard as well, smiling at him. He didn't look at her, but his expression of pain said it all.

"The fucking-fuck happend last night?" He asked in a stange manor.

"We fucking-fucked, that's what."

"Really? We did the freaky-deaky?" He asked, quickly looking at her with surprised eyes and two raised eyebrows. She giggled.

"No, you passed out. You were pretty drunk, anyways." She said, yawning.

"Damn." He said, blowing out a breath. "Wanna pick up where we left off, then?" He asked, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. He reached across her waist, but she slapped him away. "Hell no. You don't even remember where we left off, and it was a mistake to begin with." She said, a long yawn after.

"Not the parts I do remember." He said as she stood up, shaking her head.

"And that is?" She asked, rummaging through his dresser.

"Your tits." He answered, a large smile spreading across his face. She snapped her head to him, a glare set on. The peaceful sleeper was angry again, as usual. That's not what he wanted to say, but it's just what happend when he opened his mouth. He wanted to tell her he remembered how he felt last night, like she needed him. But he couldn't. So, he didn't.

"Well, cherish them. You'll never see them again."

"I'm gettin' hard just thinking about it."

"Oh, shut up." She said, grabbing clothes in a bundle and rolling her eyes, walking out of the bedroom. She could hear his chuckle when she slammed the bathroom door.

~
She devoured the whole plate of donuts, leaving not one for Negan. "Fat bitch, I called dibs on the glazed!" He called from the bedroom door as he walked out, a dazed expression on his face. She shrugged, stuffing another bite of the donut in her mouth. "You snooze, you loose." She said over the mouthful of mushed donut. "Gimme that peice, right now." He said, pointing to half the glazed donut, which was in her hand. She shook her head and coughed out a, "No."