"You know, when you help out in the kitchen theres two rules." Negan hovered over Carl, watching his every move. "Wash your hands and wear an apron." Negan stepped in front of Carl, putting his hand down on the counter, blocking him from getting to the stove. "And I don't see step two." He held two fingers up, brushing hair away from Carls face.
"I'm not wearing an apron. Moms wear aprons." Carl stepped around Negan, elbowing past him. "I washed my hands and I resisted all my urges to stab you with anything resembling a sharp knife. I think that's good enough." He set a pot down on the counter and turned on the stove. "You wanted me to help, I'm helping."
"Mhm." Negan tilted Carls head up with his finger. "I wanted you to play house with me. To be a good wife and help me cook dinner and clean and set the table-"
"You want to play house? In the middle of all of this? Your men could be outside killing everyone I know and you want me to suck your fucking dick and do everything you ask?" Carl shook his head. "No. I'm not doing this. I'll help you make your stupid fucking dinner and that's it."
Negan smiled. "It's adorable how you think you can tell me what to do. You and I both know I got all the control." He tucked hair behind Carls ear and looked at him, taking it all in. "And while you sucking my dick sounds really hot, I haven't asked you to, all I have asked you to do was be a good wife and you are not very good at listening."
"Probably because I'm not your wife. I'm the son of your enemy." Carl set the pot on the stove, picking up a wooden spoon and dipping it into the sauce, stirring it. "Don't you have something to be doing?"
"The husband sits back and watches." Negan pulled the spoon out of the sauce and wiped it off with a wash cloth. "And you know that you being Ricks son just makes this even more worth it. How would your daddy feel if he knew you were sitting at home, cooking the man he hates the most dinner, like some little bitch?"
Carl scoffed. "Not your wife. Not your bitch. I'm barely even listening so stop pretending I am. Stop pretending like you're in control and I'm cowering in the corner, waiting for your next command. Because I'm not. I'm annoyed and pissed off and I want nothing more than for you to leave this fucking house and never come back."
Negan traced Carls jaw with the spoon, chuckling. "You being angry is really cute. Your nose gets all scrunched up." He patted Carls cheek and walked towards the doorway by the kitchen, picking up a apron that hung on the wall. He untied the back, smiling to himself. "Now, be a good wife and listen to me."
Carl stared at him. "No. I am not wearing that. It's stupid." He watched Negan as he stepped closer, lifting up the apron by the neck, slowly. "Negan." Carl wasn't telling him what to do anymore. He was begging. He just didn't know what he was begging for. "You can't be serious. You want me to dress up and be your wife in the middle of the fucking apocalypse?"
"Darling... did I stutter?" Negan slipped the apron around his neck, smiling. "See. Now that wasn't so hard. All you had to do was listen." He leaned down and kissed Carls cheek. "My pretty wife." He leaned down and kissed his neck, nudging Carls legs apart with his knee. "Can't wait for dessert."
Carl pulled away, stumbling back. He balled the cloth of the apron up in his fists, lifting it up over his head to take it off. Before he could, Negan grabbed the end of the apron, pulling it back down. His other hand grabbed at the strap that went around Carls neck, twisting it around his fist until it was choking him. Negan slammed Carl down against the counter, his cheek pressing against the cool counter top.
"You really wanted this to happen, didn't you? You disobey me. Insult me. No wonder your daddy's always stressed out. You're one hell of a fucking nightmare." Negan tightened his grip, pressing himself against Carls ass. Carl squirmed underneath him, clawing at the counter top and gasping for air. "Now, I've given you a few chances, but I'm feeling generous today. I'll let you go, but only if you promise to be good and listen to me." He yanked Carl to his feet, smiling when he saw tears sliding down his cheek.
Negan leaned down and kissed them away, frowning. "See? I didn't wanna make you cry. It makes me feel bad and then we both feel bad." He looked down at Carl before ducking down and kissing his neck. He could feel Carls rapid pulse against his lips and feel the faint gasps for air that escaped from Carls lips. "Now... are you gonna be a good wife and listen to me?"
Carl whimpered and nodded the best he could, despite how tight the cloth was around his neck. Negan smiled and let go, watching the way Carl slammed his hands down on the counter and took deep breaths. Negan stepped behind him, picking up each of the strings that tied the back of the apron shut. He played with the strings, burning the sounds that Carl made into his mind.
"You know... you look real pretty crying." Negan pulled both strings back, smirking when he heard Carl gasp. "And those gasps... baby, you know just how to get me going." He yanked again. "Do it again for me." He leaned down and kissed Carls neck, pressing himself against Carl. "Love hearing those noises."
"Fuck... you.." Carl panted, leaning down and resting his elbows on the counter. He hung his head between his shoulders, his hair falling down and covering his face. "You're fucking sick.." He breathed out.
"Keep going, baby. I love it when you insult me." Negan tied the strings tight, double knotting them. "You know, back in the old days, pretty girls would tie things around them so tight that they couldn't breathe."
Carl squirmed against the counter top again, clawing at it. "Why are you doing this? Why is it so tight? Negan... it hurts."
"That's what I like to hear." He slid his hand down Carls back, smiling. "I'm old fashioned. What can I say?" He chuckled, slipping his finger underneath the string and tugging it up. "Does it hurt to breath?"
Carl nodded, his hair dragging across the counter. "Yes. Now untie it and I'll wear it. Okay? You win."
"That's a good start, but it's kinda late to be in control, kiddo." Negan untied the strings only to yank them back and tie them tighter, letting the string fall down Carls lower back and across his ass. "You're gonna be a good girl for me now. Do what I say and everything. Okay?"
Carl nodded, again, looking over his shoulder back at Negan. "Okay... now just..."
"Just what, sweetheart?" Negan picked up the spoon, looking down at it. "Open your mouth."
"Negan-" Carl whined. "Its gonna burn.." Negan slipped the spoon between his li.
Negan traced Carls lips with his thumb and smiled. "Bite down." He kissed Carls head when he did as told. "That's not gonna be the only thing that burns." He stepped behind Carl and yanked his hips out, kicking his legs apart. His fingers grazed across Carls ass before he pulled his hand away. "You know what bad wives get?"
Carl shook his head, silently. He was afraid to look behind him and find out.
"They get punished." Negan slapped Carls ass, grinning. "So, keep that spoon in your mouth, and let me hear those whimpers. It'll be over before you know it."
Carl pressed his forehead to the counter, his red cheeks hiding behind the hair that covered his face. He whined each time Negan spanked him, grinding against the air. He buried his face closer to the counter when he heard Negan chuckle.
Carl was going to be listening to a lot more than cooking instructions if he was going to keep his husband happy tonight.
