"That attitude is going to get you killed someday, Alana," my mother warned me.
She had never been too fond of my sarcasm. Not many people were, especially these days. I still tried to find humor, even if that meant coming off as a complete and total smart-ass. Or jackass. Take your pick.
How I ended up kneeling on the pavement, surrounded by men with guns is still beyond me. Everyone was shaking and crying; the terrified looks on their faces showed how bad of a shit-storm we were in.
And I just felt fucking annoyed.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I was suicidal, but death didn't scare me anymore.
"Eternal rest," my mother used to say, "Anything that involves resting can't be that bad!"
Amen, mom. I could use a long nap.
I watched as some asshole with a bitchin' mustache was droning on and on about meeting "the man". I felt like my tits were gonna freeze off, and the longer this dragged on, the angrier I became.
Then he stepped out of the camper, with a fucking barbed wire baseball bat and a freakin' scarf tied around his neck. He was an older guy, and kind of good looking, if I was being honest—not that I would ever tell him that. He looked like a ridiculous, customized character from some shitty, apocalyptic video game.
He started to speak, but I laughed before he could, making everyone turn their heads to look at me, including the Bat-Man. He walked over, ever so fucking slowly, and stood way too close for comfort. I smirked up at him. He was trying way too hard to be scary, and it was cute.
"What's so fucking funny?" he demanded, but he was smiling down at me as if he was enjoying this. We both were. In that same moment, I wondered if he was just as dead inside as me.
"Who's this clown?" I asked in a loud voice, ignoring his question. I heard my own irritation, clear as a bell. Good. He needed to hurry this shit up.
Suddenly, the tip of the bat was damn near touching my nose. I looked at it, and then back up at him, and raised an eyebrow.
"Over compensating?" I asked. "Is your dick really THAT tiny, you gotta wrap barbed wire around it?"
His eyebrow twitched in irritation. Excellent. I was pushing all the right buttons. Maybe I could make him self-destruct, and we could stop kneeling around like a bunch of cocksluts at a BJ party.
We continued to stare eachother down, and then that look of anger on his face returned to one of amusement.
"You're a smart-ass," he announced loud, as if to make sure everyone heard him.
"Wow! Good job! Want a Scooby-Snack for solving that mystery, Shaggy?" I said, rolling my eyes.
Before I knew it, I was being pulled towards one of their trucks, and my friends were shouting for me. I probably should have been scared shit-less, but I wasn't about to give Mr. Red Scarf the satisfaction of showing fear.
He brought me to his Sanctuary, and instead of being thrown into a cell, I was brought to a fancy ass bedroom. The poor son-of-a-bitch that escorted me in asked if I wanted anything.
"Yeah. I'll take a greasy ass burger, a manicure, and your leader's head on a spike."
"His name is Negan," they spat. "And you better watch your mouth, or you'll end up wishing you were dead."
Negan? What kind of stupid fucking name is Negan?
"Already there, fuckass," I snapped.
They glared at me and slammed the door, not willing to put up with my shit. No surprise. Most people didn't make it too long to begin with.
I flopped down onto the bed and stretched out, wondering why they were giving me hospitality. Eventually Negan walked in.
"So what ended up happening?" I asked, curious to know what he had done. I imagined it was probably an ugly sight. I didn't even know those people that well. I had survived with them for a few weeks, but I learned not to get attached anymore.
"Maybe if someone could have fucking behaved themselves, they could have stuck around to see," he teased.
I turned away from him and picked up the book I had been reading.
"Nah. The entertainment sucked anyways."
Negan leaned against the wall and let out a laugh, taking me by surprise.
"I fucking love this cocky little attitude of yours," he said, grinning wide. "Now listen closely. You got three choices. You can die and become a walker, and work outside in my fence. You can become a Savior, and work as my solider. Or, you can become one of my wives and put that dirty mouth of yours to good use."
Wives? He had to be shitting me.
"I'll take secret option number four."
He laughed at my answer, and told me he would never make me become a wife, but he still wanted to utilize me.
So I became one of his Saviors.
Over the next few weeks, Negan continued to try and convince me to marry him. Every chance he got he would bring it up, and I would turn him down again and again.
"You'd look so fuckin' hot in one of those tight, little, black dresses," he would whisper to me.
"Aren't you like 80?" I'd say loud, making sure everyone around us knew he was hitting on me. "You guys see this? The old man is trying to flirt with me again! Maybe he has fucking Alzheimer's and forgot I already rejected his ancient ass."
The others would freeze and become so terrified every time I sassed him, probably expecting him to beat me to death any second.
But he never did.
He always smiled at me, which infuriated me even more. My bad attitude had always pushed men away, but it seemed to draw him in even more.
And I took out my frustrations on his men, which was something Negan didn't appreciate. I even ended up spending the night in one of his cells, after I bumped heads with one of his wives.
I had been walking down the hallway when one of his barbie dolls called out to me. I trudged over and rose an eyebrow, showcasing my irritation and letting her know she was bothering me.
"You need to start showing Negan respect," she scolded me, crossing her arms. "He's done a lot for you."
"News flash, skittle tits," I barked, taking a step into her personal space. "I don't give a flying fuck what you think. Mind your beeswax, and run back to your sleepover."
She slapped me, hard across the face, and I lunged at her. Like hell I was going to let one of his sister wives hit me.
One of Negan's men was pulling me off her in an instant, but I continued to thrash. I swung hard, and my fist connected with his face, leaving one hell of a black eye. My ass got dragged down to the cells, and I was thrown onto the floor with the door slammed shut. The music started once I was caged, and Negan's favorite torture tune started assaulting my eardrums.
"Jokes on you motherfuckers!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, as Easy Street blasted loud. "I LOVE this song!" I shrieked the lyrics until I got a headache. Probably not my smartest move, but I wanted them to know they would never win with me.
Negan showed up a little while later, and I was surprised he actually asked me about my side of the story.
"My wives are off limits, and you fucking know better than to be using my men as your personal punching bag," he scolded me, but I knew he was just as amused about this as I was.
"You could always beat something else off," he added with a smirk.
"You're talking about your penis, right?" I asked, smiling at him, over-enthusiastically. "Awww, that's so cute!" I looked down at his crotch and waved. "Hey there, little guy."
I spent the rest of the night in the cell for that one.
I didn't have many friends, and no one really talked to me other than Negan. I preferred to be left alone. When he wasn't yelling at me, Negan was asking me to come with on outings. Every damn time he would bring up the idea of being a wife, and I'd turn him down. It wasn't that I wasn't attracted to him—I just wasn't willing to wear heels and bend my ass over for him every day.
"You really wanna put me in a room with your other wives? I'd eat them alive."
"They've had it too easy lately," he laughed.
"I'll wear a dress when you swallow Lucille whole," I said, smirking at him. "It'd be like those guys who can swallow swords. You just gotta practice a bit. Probably start at the handle."
"I've got something you could swallow," he fired back.
"Yeah, but it's so fucking small. It would be like taking an aspirin. Probably wouldn't even feel it."
"Oh sweetheart, you'd feel it."
I'd be lying if I said I didn't appreciate his ability to fire back.
Negan asked me to go with him to one of his communities. They had lost contact with the people there, and he was pretty sure they had rebelled and ran. We arrived at the outpost with a group of his men, and he ordered them to search the area. I followed him inside the large building. There wasn't a soul in sight.
"If this is your idea of a date, I'm not impressed," I muttered, looking around a corner into a dark hallway.
Negan laughed. "You agreed to come with. So you do like me."
I smirked. Maybe I was starting to, but he didn't need to fucking know that.
"Don't count on it."
We continued looking through the halls until we came to the end of a corridor. I reached it first and looked into a huge room, and stumbled back at the sight.
There was an entire horde of walkers filling the room. There had to be at least fifty of the fuckers.
"Fuck!" I yelled, stumbling back into Negan. He looked into the room and saw the large group and turned to go, when suddenly there were walkers coming towards us from the way we had come down the hall.
"Fuck indeed," Negan growled, pulling Lucille out in front of him.
"You're not gonna be able to fight your way through this one, Rambo. Come on." I pulled him out of the hall and into one of the rooms. It was dark, but I slammed the door shut and locked it, just in time for the walkers to reach it and start clawing, trying to get in.
Negan took his radio out and contacted his men, commanding them to clear out the walkers. We were both trapped for the time being.
I listened to the sounds of the walkers snarling and growling, and took a few steps backwards into the room.
"I haven't been this fucked since prom," I said chuckling, and just as I was mid step, I felt a hand grab my ankle and pull me onto the floor.
I screamed as my body hit the ground hard and I heard Negan yell, "Lana!" I wasn't able to answer him. A walker was crawling on top of me and snapping its jaws in my face. I was completely pinned down, and I tried to push it off with all my might, but it was too big.
I closed my eyes and waited for it to bite me.
I felt the weight of it leave my body, and then I heard a loud cracking noise. I started to tremble, even though it was gone. I felt like a child again, scared of monsters under the bed. Now the monsters were real, and I had almost perished to one.
I felt a hand on my arm pulling me up so I was sitting, but my eyes were still closed.
"It's okay. It's okay. You're okay." Negan's voice was soft, and he pulled me into his chest, trying to comfort me. He had joined me on the floor, and I let him hold me. I couldn't think of a witty remark to make. I was just trying to calm down, and his embrace was helping.
I really thought I was going to die.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to see his leather jacket. He had taken a flashlight and set it on a desk. It lit up the room, and I could see the dead walker had been kicked off to the side. There were no other rotters. My nerves were shot, but I was starting to feel more like myself as I calmed down.
"I bet that was really fucking attractive," I mumbled, wiping away a few tears that had fallen down my face. I hadn't even realized I'd been crying. I looked up at him as he gazed down at me so concerned. I grinned, doing my best to show him I was okay.
"You already know how I feel about you, Lana," he said with a soft smile. His arms were still wrapped around me, and he wasn't letting me go.
I rolled my eyes.
"Nah, you hate me. You wanted that walker to bite my face off."
"I did save you," he pointed out, squeezing me a bit.
"Yeah, you're a real Prince Charming, Negan." I laughed and looked around the room and then back to him as he spoke.
"You could have gotten hurt. I almost lost you." The words came out in a whisper, and he continued looking at me with such concern. It was surprising to see him like this.
"Well you didn't. I'm still here to brighten your day with my bullshit. You can't get rid of me that easy."
He wouldn't look away. His expression was really hard to read, and he didn't say anything and just stared.
"Negan, please stop looking at me like that," I uttered.
"I can't," he whispered.
"Why?" I asked, furrowing my brow at him.
"Because…" He cupped my cheek and looked into my eyes. I felt his hand caress my skin, and I couldn't help but lean into it. He pulled me towards him, and his lips pressed against mine.
We stayed like that a few moments, but I didn't pull away. His kiss was so soft and I closed my eyes as he held me.
He pulled away and looked at me.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured.
"Shut up," I chuckled, and pulled him back to me, kissing him again.
His hands went to my shirt, and I didn't stop him. He sat up a bit more and pulled my shirt over my head, and started to kiss down my neck. I unclasped my bra and moaned at the feeling of his mouth on my skin.
He moved his hands down to undo his belt and opened his pants. I unzipped mine, and pulled my jeans and panties down. Once I was exposed, he slid two fingers deep inside me, and I whimpered at the feeling. He caressed them into my slick heat, and I rubbed against him eagerly, wanting to feel more friction.
I wanted him so fucking bad.
He placed his other hand onto my shoulders and started to lay me down, but I pushed up and placed two hands on his chest pushing him backwards. Like hell I was going to be fucked in the missionary position.
He chuckled as I took control of the situation, crawling on top of him and pressing my mouth against his, biting his bottom lip softly. The walkers continued to claw at the door, but I was so focused on Negan, I could barely hear them.
I moved a hand down to pull his hard dick out from his pants, and lined it up with my entrance. I slid down on top and closed my eyes at the sensation, and he hissed out as he entered me. I lifted myself up off him just a bit, and then moved further onto his length. He placed two hands onto my hips as I started to ride him.
"Lana…" he moaned, staring up at me. He watched my tits bounce as I moved on him. It felt fucking amazing, and I reached my arm up and grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling it away from my face. He continued to watch me as if he was in a trance, and thrust up as I grinded onto his dick.
When I reached my orgasm, I cried out as he squeezed my hips tightly. He bucked up, spilling his seed simultaneously. I gasped and rode out the high, before he pulled out and I collapsed onto his chest. I did my best to try and catch my breath and closed my eyes. Negan laid his hand against my head and petted my head.
We laid like that in silence, and I listened to the sound of his heartbeat as he ran his fingers through my hair. I sat up a bit and grinned at him, and he smiled back.
The radio buzzed, and I sat up more as the noise surprised me. Negan reached over and picked it up, clicking the button. Simon's voice came through informing Negan that the Saviors had started clearing out the dead in the area and wanted to know where Negan was.
I reached over and snatched the walkie out of his hand, and pushed the button.
"I've got the FOP right here. He's fine."
As I spoke, I continued to smile at Negan. He was looking at me in such admiration. I loved and hated it all at once.
I handed him the radio back.
"What's a FOP?" he asked, zipping up his pants.
"Fucking Old Person," I answered, pulling my bra back on. It was my nickname I used for him over the walkies, but he hadn't known about it until now.
"Just remember, you're the one who's fucking old people."
I groaned. He had a point.
I finished getting dressed and smoothed my hair down, hoping I didn't look as good and fucked as I felt. Negan watched me without speaking.
"They'll be here soon," I turned to him.
"Mhmm." He leaned back into me and pressed his lips against mine once again. I hated to admit it—even to myself, but I was really enjoying this. The kisses—the sex—and just being with him. Hell, I might have been falling for the guy.
He pressed his forehead against mine and closed his eyes as he did. I studied his face, not wanting this moment to end. I didn't know when we would get another opportunity like this.
We both turned our heads towards the door as the sound of gunfire grew closer, and Negan pulled away, making me frown. I missed him almost immediately. I felt like a fucking schoolgirl with a gross crush.
Negan got to his feet and offered me his hand. I stood too, and once I was up, Negan pulled me into him again and placed a kiss against my forehead. We stood like that for a long time, and when he didn't pull away, I smirked.
"Just so you know, I still hate your stupid face."
"Of course," Negan chuckled, reaching for Lucille. He finally let me go and took a few steps back just as someone knocked on the door. I got up and opened it to see Simon standing there looking very amused.
"You love birds having fun in here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I had a feeling he was joking, but couldn't help but wonder if he knew what we had just done. Usually I didn't give a fuck what others thought about me, but a tiny part of me hoped he didn't know.
Then it would be real.
"Zip it, pornstache," I grumbled, marching out of the room and past him. There were piles of walker bodies strewn through the hallway, and I had to carefully step around them on my way out.
It was a huge relief to make it outside, and I headed over to my truck. Getting inside the driver's side, I sat for a few minutes and did my best to not think about what had just happened.
It wasn't long before Negan was getting into the passenger side. I turned the keys in the ignition, and the engine came to life. I was just about to put the truck in reverse when I felt something touch my hand.
I looked down to see Negan had reached over and was holding my hand in his.
I looked up at him and he was smiling at me.
I wondered if I should be messing around with him.
He was a dangerous man, he had not one, but multiple wives back at the Sanctuary, and he was the biggest asshole I'd ever met. I could really get hurt fooling around with someone like him…
But then again…
I smiled back at him.
Eh… fuck it.
