This Is How I Disappear (Negan/OFC)

Chapter 19

Chuck walks into Negan's apartment and finds him, dressed down in just his T-shirt and jeans, pouring himself a glass of whiskey at his kitchen counter.

"Please tell me we get a piece of that cake for dinner," Chuck says as she sits down in the stool in front of Negan.

"Of course, we're getting fuckin' cake with our dinner!" he responds with a smirk. "You think I wouldn't tell the kitchen to save two pieces for me and my girl?" He gulps down the alcohol in his glass in one swallow.

"It is almost embarrassing how excited I am over this cake." Chuck giggles.

"Well, you can thank me properly for it later." Negan wiggles his eyebrows at her and licks his lips.

"I can thank you for it right now," Chuck replies in her most sultry voice. She rounds the counter as Negan follows her with a lustful gaze. Her tongue swipes over her lips and she brings a hand up to lay softly on his arm. Suddenly she gives him a hearty pat on the shoulder and says, "Thank you," cheerily then makes her way into the bedroom. She knows that's not what he meant by a "proper" thank you, but she felt like teasing him.

He gives a low rumbling laugh and follows closely after her. "You're being very fuckin' naughty right now. And bad girls most certainly don't deserve fuckin' cake," he says with a smirk.

Chuck quickly turns back around to him. "Oh my god! I was just joking around! Please let me have the cake," she begs him with wide eyes. She wasn't lying about being overly excited about the cake. The first mention of it practically had her mouth watering and the thought of being denied it shakes her up.

"Shit, baby girl." He chuckles at her reaction. "Don't get upset." He pulls her into a hug. "I was just fucking around, too. You can eat your cake." He kisses her forehead. "Dinner should be up here in twenty fuckin' minutes, so try not to cream your panties too much thinking about that dessert in the meantime."

"Gross, Negan." She hits his shoulder playfully and turns away from him to sit on the couch. "How do you even get anything done around here with your mind so far in the gutter?" She chortles.

He walks over to the couch and sits beside her. "I think I fuckin' manage pretty well." He throws his arm on the back of the couch behind her head.

"Just think what you could accomplish if you let some blood flow to your upstairs brain every once in a while," she jokes. "You'd probably have already found a cure to the virus or whatever that turns the dead alive again."

"You're being sassy as fuck right now." He leans into her and whispers into her ear, "I like it."

"No, no. Nope." She pushes him away. "We're not starting anything until I get my cake."

"Shit! You're really fuckin' serious about that goddamn cake."

She laughs and he joins in. "I am. Cake is amazing and I haven't had any in forever! Don't judge me too hard if I cry a little when I eat it," she jokes.

He gives a booming laugh. "I didn't know you had such a fuckin' sweet tooth."

She points to herself. "Hello? Chubbo right here."

"Please," he dismisses her self deprecating comment.

A little while later, two kitchen workers come up, one with a tray of entrees and one with the dessert tray covered with a metal lid. The workers set the trays on the kitchen counter and leave. Chuck immediately goes straight to the cakes.

"Nope." Negan's strong arm comes around Chuck's waist and pulls her back before she even gets to the tray. "No dessert until after fuckin' dinner. I wouldn't want you to get a tummy ache," he growls into her ear.