𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 -Negan x Reader

•17•

The hot water falls onto your bare body, filling the entire bathroom with a thick cloud of steam. Your hand lightly grazes against your lips as the scenario blissfully plays on a loop in your head. Images of him standing between your legs, watching you with the most intense, sensual gloss over his eyes. Your hand trails to your waist, remembering the way he pulled you into him. It's enough to make you want to scream. Your brain is having a field day, picking apart each moment, each touch.

The shower handle squeaks as you shut off the water. You step out and wrap your dripping body in a soft, white towel. His husky voice plays over in your head as you dry yourself off.

'Fuck, you don't know how many times I've wanted to do that.'

You're not sure you're going to able to face him. Your nerves are so shot and you still feel as if you could faint. The lightheaded feeling could also just be consequential of the boiling hot shower you just took. You struggle to put your clothes on with one hand, not wanting to use your other one and risk ripping your stitches out.

Earlier you had picked out a fitted, wine-red, long-sleeved shirt with a wide v-neck and a pair of dark-wash jeans. After slipping the clothing on, you realize it's a little more provocative than you anticipated. You put your arm back into your sling and take one last look in the mirror, fixing wet strands of hair that had fallen out of place. You feel stupid fixing yourself up like this but after that, you can't go out there looking a mess. Your brain simply wouldn't allow it.

Steam rolls out of the door as you exit, nervousness settling in the pit of your stomach. As you walk down the hallway into the living room you start to regret wearing your shirt. As per usual, you're behind on your laundry so it was either that or the tattered T-shirt you've had since the fall.

You find him sitting in the recliner, elbows resting on his knees and his hands loosely clasped together. He has his staple leather jacket on now, covering his toned arms. He looks up as you pad into the living room. You try to look anywhere but at him as you make your way to the couch.

"Goddamn, if I knew that's all it took to get you to wear something like that, it would've happened a long fucking time ago.", He smirks playfully.

You sit down onto the brown leather couch, feeling your cheeks begin to turn red and your lips pull into a small smile. You're not used to compliments, especially those of the flirty nature.

"So here's the deal," he begins, sitting back into the chair, throwing one leg over the other. "I have to go back and make sure they haven't burnt the place down, might have to run out and wave Lucille in some faces at one of the communities."

A ping of disappointment hits your chest. You thought he was going to be here longer.

"I want you to come with me.", he says, watching you closely, waiting for your reaction.

"Doesn't everyone want me dead?", you ask, unsure of his plan to keep you from getting killed the moment you set foot inside the gates.

"They're not going to come pull you away from me. They're bloodthirsty, not fucking stupid.", He rebuts, flashing his pearly white teeth.

You kick the idea around in your brain briefly. Sure, you want to be around Negan but is the risk worth it? You're not sure you're ready to be alone here by yourself after what happened. There could be more and they could follow the same trail of blood that led the others to you.

"I'll be with you the whole time?"

"You don't have any other choice, Doll.", he smirks.

Your heart flutters a little bit hearing him call you that. It almost feels like you're a schoolgirl again: the butterflies, fantasizing and romanticizing the smallest things. But the pessimism in you thinks you're reading too far into this, taking too much to heart, imagining a bond with him that'll never happen.