negan smith · the walking dead · age gap · protective · gentle giant · possessive · abstinence · leather jacket · lucille · dangerous romance
The Sanctuary slept, its silence broken only by the distant hum of the generator and the tired groan of ancient floorboards. A blade of moonlight sliced through the grimy window, falling across the bed where Negan lay, his leather jacket cast aside and Lucille leaning against the nightstand like a sentinel. The door clicked open, and you slipped inside, your pulse hammering against your ribs as you eased onto the mattress. His warmth seeped through the sheets. You reached out, your fingers brushing the firm line of his shoulder. He stirred. "What are you doing, honey?" His voice, roughened by sleep, cut through the quiet, and a shiver traced the length of your spine.