𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 -Negan x Reader

•19•

The sun has now almost completely set. Negan's room is only dimly lit by a couple of lamps, one being his desk light. His reading glasses sit loosely on the bridge of his nose, eyes scanning each paper, completely focused on the scribing of the page. His brows are slightly furrowed in deep thought. Your eyes rest on the soft pink of his lips as you remember the way they melted into yours.

Dwight's words run on repeat in your head as you watch Negan work from your seated position on the couch. You begin to spiral and wonder if anything he said held truth. You've been so caught up in falling for him that you haven't considered the other possibility. It wouldn't be too far from reality to think that Negan doesn't actually have feelings for you.

You begin thinking of every encounter that has taken place over the last month: his concern for you, the way he looked at you and what he said before he left, leaving for two weeks, the kiss, the reassuring touches, stolen glances. It's all over the place. Not having a definitive answer begins to crawl under your skin.

"It's getting late. Do you care to stay here for the night and go back tomorrow?", he asks, peering at you from above the glasses resting at the edge of his nose and spinning his chair to face you.

"I didn't bring any clothes.", you inform him, snapping out of your spiral.

"You can borrow mine.", he offers, plucking the glasses from his face, and placing them on the desk.

The offer brings the heat back up to your face.

"Thanks.", you say, hoping the dim lighting isn't bright enough to show your reddened cheeks.

He flashes a grin, letting you know the light did, in fact, give you away.

"Why are you so nervous?", his gravelly voice graces your ears.

"I'm not.", you blurt out, absolutely ruining any case you can make in your defense.

You watch him eat up every second of your dismay. His eyes devour your entire body as he looks you up and down.

"Prove it.", he says simply.

You begin to feel your heartbeat accelerate. Your brain scrambles to figure out what he means.

"Come here."

Your brain starts to short-circuit. You do as you're told and struggle to hold his dominating gaze as you slowly pace toward him, planting yourself right in front of him. Your breathing becomes shaky, standing over him, waiting for the next command.

"Sit down.", he pats his leg, inviting you into his lap.

The tension is so thick it's almost as if someone sucked all the oxygen out of the room. You feel as if you're going to faint. Once again, you follow his command and sit lightly on his lap, feeling a rush of dopamine as you do. Heat begins to grow between your thighs when you make eye contact.

He looks at you through a half-lidded gaze, studying the features of your face, lingering on your lips before continuing his trace. Notes of his smoky cologne and aftershave fill your nose.

"Nervous yet, Doll?", his voice as smooth as silk.

"No.", you answer just above a whisper.

He delicately brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, earning a shy smile from you.

"Good.", he rasps, lightly taking your chin into his grasp.

You study him with soft, yearning eyes. He pulls you farther into him, his lips colliding with yours, sending shockwaves through your body. You bring your hand up to his jaw, feeling the stubble rub against your palm with each synched movement. The sweet taste and warmth of his lips are addictive. You never knew euphoria like this existed. Chills run up your spine as you feel his hand trail all the way up your leg, resting on your waist. He gives you a small squeeze and pulls away. His lips glisten in the dim lighting, eyes glazed.