#eventual negan x ofc

[little-diable]

Reunion – dbf!Negan / Joel Miller series (Part 1/?)

Y'all voted for this series, so here we go. I promise there will be lots of smut, but please show some love to this chapter which has almost no smut in it just yet. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is Joel's older daughter, she got separated from her family the first night of the outbreak. Joel's best friend, Negan, had always been close with (y/n), but what happens when she meets Negan again after all these years? Will the crush she had on him as a teenager manage to push her closer to him? Will she cross paths with her dad again, even though he had left her behind?

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation (f), eventual TWD violence, heavy age gap, reader is legal ofc, dbf x fem!reader

Pairing: Negan x fem!reader (2.8k words)

this amazing header is by @deathofpeaceofmind

Run Little Dove Masterlist

“Well, would you look at that. You alright there, sweetheart?” Her eyes fluttered open slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness before her eyes found Negan's pupils. A soft chuckle left the young woman as she sat up, knees pressed to her chest, lips pulled into a smile. 

“Where’s dad?” Negan’s gaze momentarily left (y/n)’s features, his lower lip pulled between his teeth as he looked back towards the house. (Y/n) gave herself a few seconds to study her dad’s best friend, the man whom she and Sarah have known from both their first days on this very earth, the one who had joined their every vacation, the one who slept on their sofa whenever his wife forced him out of his home, the one who’d always look after them should their dad be busy. The one (y/n) had been crushing on since she had been sixteen – perhaps even a bit younger.

“He should be out in a few. I think he took another call.” With a sigh leaving (y/n), she plopped back down on the sunbed, stretching out her limbs. “Why don’t you join me? Knowing my dad, it��ll take quite a while till he finishes the call, and Sarah’s not back yet.” 

A hum rumbled through Negan, tugging his shirt over his head to sit down next to (y/n) on the empty sunbed. It took all her strength not to look at him, teeth buried in her lip to try and stop her eyes from wandering. No words were spoken between the two, enjoying the heat of the warm August sun, listening to the playlist her dad had put on. Even though she’d never admit it out loud with Negan around, not wanting to feed his big ego, (y/n) enjoyed these calm moments with him, allowing herself to relax without any worries clouding her mind.

“I saw that you’ll join my gym class this year.” Her eyes found Negan’s, slowly nodding her head as her brain began to focus on his words. Even though she had known that she’d eventually have to join his class, she had tried to avoid it for as long as possible, knowing that she’d struggle to concentrate with him around. “I won’t give you any special treatment, even though its your last year, I hope you know that, sweetheart.”

“You say that now, but we both know you have a sweet spot for me, old man.” 

……

She was running, feet carrying her through the forest as she kept on looking back. The sound of the roaring trucks echoed through the air, ringing in her ears as she tried to up her speed. Her heart was pounding, not used to running this fast for longer than a few seconds, palms and forehead sweaty. Heavy breaths spluttered from her lips, begging for a miracle, anything that would help her make it out of the forest before those who were chasing her could get their hands on her.

Panic flushed through her veins, guiding (y/n) as she tried to not stumble over her feet, over the branches littering the forest ground. Her glassy eyes were focused ahead, tears running down her cheeks as she spotted a clearing, hopeful about stumbling upon a field or a high meadow she could hide in. But before (y/n) could move any closer she was cut off by two trucks coming at her from both sides, forcing her to an abrupt halt.

She tumbled to the ground, her body collapsing with her hands stretched out to catch herself. Fear filled her system, forcing some more tears to well up in her eyes as a man with a moustache stepped out of one of the trucks, smirking at her. The man moved closer, forcing (y/n) to stay on the cold ground as the other men directed their guns at her.  

“Aw, why all that running, little dove?” He grasped her arm, forcing (y/n) to her feet, not paying her protests any mind. She stomped her feet onto the ground, trying to stop the man from pulling her towards the truck, but all he did was tighten his grip on her, breath clashing against her ear, “You shouldn’t have stolen from us, maybe then I would have let you go.”

Her body was tossed into one of the trucks, head colliding with the metal flooring, forcing another gasp to leave her. (Y/n)‘s tears kept dripping, rolling down her cheeks like a river cascading along rocks, forcing its trail to stick to her skin. She tried to listen to the sounds echoing through the air, hoping to find anything she could use to figure out where they were taking her, but she couldn’t pick up on anything, too tired to stop herself from giving into the darkness coming upon her.

……

“Good morning, birthday girl. Sweet twenty-one.” Negan’s raspy voice shook through her, making her jump. With her hand pressed to her heart, (y/n) turned towards Negan, watching the smirk widen on his lips. “What? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Of course I am!” She walked closer, almost throwing herself into his open arms. Just the scent of his cologne left her knees trembling, forcing her teeth into her lower lip before a sinful sound could flush through her. “Just didn’t know that you were already around.” 

“Your dad called last night, he and Tommy worked longer than expected, so he asked me to stay over.” A hum left (y/n), slowly letting go of Negan with a smile glued to her lips. She felt his eyes on her frame, watching her prepare them some coffee, eyes drawn back to him as she heard him moving closer.

Negan leaned against the kitchen cabinet, arms crossed in front of his chest, stretching the fabric of his black shirt over his biceps.  (Y/n) had to force her eyes off his frame, not daring to give into the longings she felt. And yet she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d push her away should she try to touch him, now that she was finally twenty-one. 

“Morning, happy birthday, (y/n)!” Sarah’s voice ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, slowly shaking her head before her sister wrapped her arms around her waist, cuddling herself closer to (y/n)'s frame. “Is dad already awake?”

“He isn’t, but how about we two make some breakfast, while (y/n) gets ready and then you can wake the old man?” Negan’s piercing eyes met (y/n)’s, shooting her a quick smile before he helped Sarah reach for the package mix, turning from the birthday girl who disappeared back towards her room, needy for a shower that could wash away her sinful longings. 

Within minutes she found herself in the shower, silently groaning at the feeling of the warm water cascading down her back. With her eyes fluttering close she imagined Negan pressed against her body, strong arms wrapped around her waist to keep her close, fingers finding their way to her pulsing bundle. 

“Fuck.” The curse rolled off her tongue as she let her fingers wander, circling her clit with quick movements, needy for her relief. Her body was burning, set ablaze by the thought of Negan touching her where she needed him the most. Fuck, he’d surely know how to touch her, would soothe the ache deep inside her. 

Her teeth left marks on her lower lips, fingers adding more speed to their movements. She’d cum way too soon, riled up by Negan’s presence, hoping that she’d be able to keep her distance for the next hours, not wanting her dad to pick up on the glances she was throwing his best friend’s way. 

Soft moans left (y/n), legs trembling as the intense sensation crawled closer, eyes squeezed shut to imagine the way Negan would take care of her. She could almost hear the soft words he’d speak, how he’d praise her, how he’d worship her body just the way she needed him to. 

And with one last curse leaving her, (y/n) came to the thought of her dad’s best friend. 

……

“And we’ve got another present for you, boss.” She woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open, taking in her surroundings. It took (y/n) a moment to realise that she was still in the back of the truck, forcing a groan out of her as her body focused on the pain she was plagued by. Slowly she tried to sit up, struggling to do so as she watched a shadow approach. 

“Good morning, sweetheart.” The man with the moustache spoke to her as he opened the door, hand grasping her arm once again to pull her out of the truck. Her body clashed to the ground, groaning once again. She kept her eyes closed, not willing to take in her new surroundings just yet, clinging to the darkness that offered a false sense of safety.

“Who is that?” A gruff voice broke the silence, a voice that left her heart skipping a few beats. It couldn’t be - no, it couldn’t be. And yet the voice sounded too familiar, making her body relax before her mind could catch up with it.

“She stole from us on our run, took us a while to catch up with her, she’s a feisty one.” Laughter echoed through the air, but all (y/n) could focus on were her racing thoughts, trying to pierce the pieces together. Slowly she rose her head, eyes focusing on the pair of boots that moved closer. Slowly she shifted her weight, cowering in front of the person that was now towering over her. (Y/n) didn’t want to look up, eyes squeezed shut, scared to cling onto the small thread of hope that would be snapped once she met a pair of unfamiliar eyes instead of his.

“Don’t be scared, doll. Look at me.” She felt something being pushed against her chin, tilting her face up. Her eyes shot open, focusing on the all-too-familiar face. A sob clawed through her, body trembling as she watched him crouch down, wide eyes wandering over her face.

Even though (y/n) was sure that he had recognised her, Negan didn’t give in, staring at her for a few more seconds before he rose back to his feet. With his eyes flickering back to Simon he cleared his throat, lips pulled into a smirk they seemed to buy, though (y/n) could tell that it was a fake smirk, not the one she had fallen in love with as a teenager. 

“Lock her up till I decide what we will do with her. She’s off limits, we can’t trust her so I better not catch any of you fuckers touching her.” Another sob clawed through (y/n), hands trying to reach for Negan, wondering why he was acting like this. The man staring down at her had nothing on the man she had once known, and yet something about him hadn’t changed at all. 

She felt two hands grasping her from behind, forcing her to her feet with an angry huff leaving the man. No further word was spoken as (y/n) was dragged away, unable to wipe off the tears that kept on falling. Her eyes didn’t stray from his, staring at the man whose expression was cold, unrecognisable even. 

“It’s a shame we can’t have you, little dove, but don’t worry, eventually he’ll give you to us, but not before he got his own taste.” 

……

“Get in the truck! Right now!” (Y/n) watched her dad scream the words, panicked eyes set on Sarah’s frame. A scream echoed through the evening as she watched their elderly neighbour slowly rise from the ground, racing towards her dad, Tommy, and Sarah. Only seconds later did (y/n) realise that she had been the one who had screamed. She couldn’t keep on watching, had to turn her head – a mistake she’d come to regret minutes later. 

Before she could even begin to understand what her body was doing, (y/n) ripped the car door open, feet carrying her across the street towards Rosie’s house. The young woman was trying to climb out of her window, begging for help as she got stuck halfway, a moment of distraction that seemed to pull (y/n)’s mind away from her family. Only as the sound of a car swiftly driving off began to echo through the darkness did she dare to snap her head back towards the street. 

She stood frozen, hands pressed to her side as she watched the truck drive off. Had they not noticed her sudden disappearance? Had they not noticed the way she had taken off to save another friend of theirs? 

“(Y/n)!” Rosie’s call ripped her out of her trance, teary eyes snapping towards the woman who still seemed to struggle. Without giving it another thought, she raced up towards Rosie, helping her down onto the ground. Even though she could tell that the woman was speaking to her, she couldn’t concentrate on the words, still shaken up by what had just happened.

It wouldn’t take them long before they’d notice her disappearance, a minute, or two maybe? They’d turn back around for her. They’d turn back around for her. They’d turn back around for her. 

Hopefully. 

……

The sound of steps echoing through the hallway forced her tired eyes open, her body growing tense as (y/n) watched a shadow approach. Her eyes met his, instantly drawn to the man she had once clung to, the man who had once protected her with all his might, the man she had once sworn to trust. 

For a few seconds, they were engulfed by a thick silence, eyes not daring to break contact as Negan stepped into her cell, crouching down in front of her. Slowly he reached his gloved hand out, cupping (y/n)’s cheek before she could move away. Her sob clawed through her all too violently, a sound that forced a frown to tug on Negan’s features, pulling her into his chest. 

“Did they hurt you? Any wounds I need to look at?” No words managed to leave (y/n), caught in her throat by the strength her sobs had on her vocal cords. Negan kept holding onto her, allowing his still somewhat familiar scent to clash against her. 

“Atta girl, deep breaths.” His voice wrapped itself around her, keeping her close like a blanket tossed over her shoulders, protecting her from the cold nibbling on her fingers. Negan kept cupping her cheek, thumb wiping away the tears that kept on falling, hating to see her like this, hurt, confused, and exhausted. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you again, doll. Where’s your dad, where’s Sarah?”

(Y/n) could only shake her head, choking on another sob as she thought back to the night her family had left her behind. She had tried to take shelter, not daring to wander off in hopes that her dad would come back to pick her up. But as the minutes had turned into hours, the young woman had slowly but surely been forced to realise that she was on her own. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Fuck, I’m so sorry..” Negan sat down next to her, once again pulling her back into his chest. Their moments together felt like a déjà-vu, so familiar, and yet so different to all these years ago. “What happened? Why are you without them?”

“We,” she inhaled a shaky breath, not daring to speak of the day that haunted her whenever she closed her eyes. Her voice was raspy, ringing in Negan’s ears like a song he hadn’t heard in years. “We got separated right in the beginning. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I didn’t want to risk anything, once enough people know that we have some history together, you become an easy target. I can’t risk losing you a second time.” A hum left (y/n), she was too tired, too confused to argue, only hoping that she’d somehow make it out of this mess. 

“Lucille? Is she here?” It was just a whisper, a whisper breaking Negan out of his racing thoughts. Now it was his turn to shake his head, tightening his grip on her body, trying to pull her even closer as if he was scared that he was stuck in a nightmare as if he was scared that she’d be ripped from his grasp any moment now. 

“It’s just the two of us now, doll. But you’re safe here, I promise.” 

[zombiigrll]

would you guys be down for a carl grimes x reader series eventually 🤔

i have no idea what itd be about but i really wanna do like maybe a 12 part series or something and it wouldnt fully follow everything that canonically happens in twd but itd be similar ofc like still having alexandria, negan, woodbury, and all that stuff !

ill try and make the chapters decently long and maybe post it once a week (ill write it all out before i start posting it so i know ill actually get it out once a week 😭)

[allthesespoonsareknives]

Camp NaNoWriMo July 2023 Updates

About My WiP: title | the upside of down chapter | i just started chapter 5, im at 22k out of my 20k goal and i think i’ll end up with anywhere between 11 and 25 chapters. pairing | eventual eddie munson x ofc... possible eventual steve harrington x ofc... i’m trying to make it poly but the story isn’t happening that way yet. mind of it’s own. ofc’s name is josephine walker, goes by josie, jos, jojo, jo... rating | it will be r when i’m done with it. not much going on there yet. genre | romance, smut warnings | m solo so far but eventually m/f a lot of different things, polyam for ppl who need a warning for that. maybe some m/f/m stuff. i don’t know where i’ll go. word count | 22k at the moment. i’d say we’re looking at at least 40k probably more. summary | eddie munson and josie walker are childhood best friends and have been attached at the hip since they met in elementary school. josie thinks there’s something freaky going on in hawkins, indiana... eddie says it’s because she watches a lot of ‘freaky shit’. also, he’s hopelessly in love with her. what happens when she starts becoming friends with steve harrington and they both find out she’s been right this whole time?? other stuff | like i’ve said before i haven’t written in 4 years and this is making me so nervous. i won’t release it until it’s done. and i don’t have a beta so i’m terrified putting it out un-beta’d. my husband is reading it and he loves it so far but he might be biased. i also have an idea for a sequel already so that’s either a good sign or a very bad sign.  writing stuff that has nothing to do with this WiP | i also have a WiP called ‘my heart belongs to daddy’ which is a DBF!negan, no apocalypse AU but i started it 4 years ago and my ‘writing voice’ sounds hella different now... i’m going to try rewriting it from the beginning when i’m done with this but i don’t know... i kinda want to make it a joel miller story but.. there’s a specific way negan talks that really lends itself to this specific story so good luck to me. that’s all.

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 30

Negan, after taking away my gun and knife, motions to his bed. And I go rigid. Surely that’s not what he’s brought me here to do. He has a fully stocked harem. Full of women who look like they give a far bigger shit about what they look like than me.

He takes stock of my stillness, and gives a small chuckle. Dear God, was he going to laugh at my inhibition to go to bed with him? “Jessica, I’m not planning on joining you.” He takes my hand and I try desperately not to flinch at the casualness of the touch, so foreign to me since I cannot remember the last time anyone had tried. The pads of his fingers are calloused, they remind me of Daryl’s, but his hand seems bigger, more slender. He’s tugging me toward the bed, and then, once standing in front of it, he tries to sooth me. “You look exhausted.”

Do I? It seems like I’m always sleeping when I’m not taking care of Judith. My room in Alexandria had become a refuge from the world, and I’d had to force myself to leave it.

Negan watches me. And once again, I wish I could see what he saw. If my mask really had gone away, I wanted to know how far it had slipped, and how to put it back in place. “Go ahead, Jessica. I’ll be working right over there,” he points back to where we’d been seated.

Since sleep is the fastest way to nowhere, I take off my boots and without a shred of hesitancy left, I pull off my jeans and climb in the bed. The urge is heavy now, to escape again. To get away inside my own head, where nothing waits. Because, even if Negan can see that I’m broken, he can’t see that the dark release of nothing and nowhere is all I can ever wish for.

When I wake up, it’s dark. Completely dark, without even the light of the stars and moon coming through the window we’d sat by when I’d arrived. I wondered, had it happened? Had the darkness that I’d slipped into so willingly finally taken me over completely? I felt no fear. No worry. I felt nothing. And in that, I found solace.

The next time I surface, the light’s blinding. Sunlight shining through the window that I’d seen when we’d sat down and Negan had tried to unlock my secrets. I wished it hadn’t come. Morning. Not, I told myself, because I wanted to die. Simply because I found safety in the nothing. In the dark of nowhere.

Negan is sitting in the chair he’d sat in the day before. At least I think it’s the day before. I can see him without sitting up or giving him a sign I’ve awakened. And with this advantage, I study the man who had studied me. He’s reading a sheaf of papers. The bat resting on the table before him, within reach, as seems to be his habit. There’s a walkie talkie beside it. His leather jacket is gone, tossed over the chair I’d occupied before. One hand is shading his eyes, while the other is holding the papers. And I wonder, why him? Why could he see so easily what no one else could? What knowledge does this dangerous man have that my own father doesn’t? What experience would give him the ability to read me easier than Daryl, a man I’d given everything to? And what would he do with the knowledge? The truth about Rick Grimes’ daughter? The reality of my stability or instability? The fact that I wasn’t strong, or brave, or built for this world? The veil that I’d worn so carefully and fully that not even those closest to me could see through it?

He fidgeted, as though he could feel my eyes on him. And I closed mine quickly. Feigning sleep, praying that the darkness would come again, that I’d be able to escape back to nowhere, to nothing.

It didn’t work. He’d seen or thought he’d seen my eyes open. And he called to me, loudly and clearly. “Jessica, come over here.” It was an order. Plain and simple. And since I’d traded my life for Glenn’s, I complied.

I got out of his bed, pulled my jeans back on and walked barefoot over to where he was sitting. He’d tossed the papers onto the table and sat back in his chair to study me standing beside him. And I waited to see what he’d expect of me now. Whatever he saw, it didn’t seem to please him.

“Put on your boots,” he gestured to where I’d set them before resting. “Time for a fucking tour.”

I pulled on my boots and sighed. It wasn’t loud, but he’d heard it, I’m sure. It seemed like he was attuned to every fucking minutia of my being, and I’d just met him. I could hear him pulling on his jacket, the sound of him taking his bat in hand. I turned around to see him far closer than I’d expected him to be. His hand reached out and cupped my chin so he could tilt my face up for his inspection. A rough thumbpad traced beneath my eye, as he studied my face.

“Not much of an improvement,” his voice was low, quiet even. He shook his head and released me. “Let’s fucking go, let you see what you gave up your fucking life for.”

I should have felt fear. It should have made me worry about what I was going to see. Yet, I felt nothing. I wasn’t here, not really, not as long as I could slip back inside myself, back to nowhere.

I followed him, again close enough to keep up without exerting myself, but far enough that I didn’t have to be near him. As I’d been able to do for months, or years now, I took note of everything without taking in anything. Going through the motions, seeing but not experiencing, taking stock but not worrying, all of that was as second nature to me as breathing. As fighting. As surviving.

The marketplace, or whatever he termed it, where his people bartered points earned through work for necessities or luxuries. The cafeteria, again based around earnings through these jobs that he kept mentioning. He stopped our tour long enough to give me food. Hovering to watch me eat, making sure everything was consumed. Satisfied that I’d gotten something down, as though I didn’t eat, we kept going and I wondered, perhaps he had decided on my purpose. Perhaps. Outside, a closer look at his walker security system, I wondered if eventually we’d all be found here, guarding a building without any notice of what or who we had been before. Back inside, to the infirmary, where the wife that had introduced herself, Sherry, was getting results of a pregnancy test.

I had a flicker, as she told Negan it was negative, as the man with the ruined face was nearby, of something tugging in the back of my mind. Hadn’t I, at some point, wanted this? The hope of a child. The future of a family. With Daryl? Maybe, but that was once upon a time, and this was the real world.

I didn’t pay attention to the interaction between Negan and the doctor, or Negan and the man he called ‘D’ or the wife. The doctor, I’m sure I was told his name, but what need did we have of names? What did it matter? He stepped forward, toward me, and asked me to sit on the exam table. I sat. I did what was asked of me, nothing more, nothing less. It was automatic, muscle memory with a hint of listening to what was necessary. Simple. Done. I didn’t notice what he’d checked, or what he said. I didn’t care. I was healthy, clearly, since I was still breathing. I’m sure Negan and the doctor spoke. I’m sure they shot me looks. I didn’t pay attention, I’d gone back to nothing. To nowhere. Where it was blank and easy.

I was told to follow him again. And I did. Back through the building, more hallways, more information. Then we returned to the room filled with women. All clamoring for attention, and he brushed them off and took me back to his private space. And he told me to get more rest, and I wondered why? What was so important about my resting? But I only pondered for a moment, because in the end, nowhere was beckoning. And that temptation of nothing was too powerful to resist.

I woke to darkness again. Complete and perfect. Home. And as I let my internal darkness tempt me away, I wondered if it mattered where I was physically, since I wasn’t there. Not really.

[crohno]

I SHOULD BUT I WON’T. ❜ [Simon/Reader]

Summary:  You knew your decisions would catch up with you one day. Warnings:  threat, smut in the latter half. Prompt: i was thinking something between 3,000-5,000 words, with simon (ofc) x female!reader. the rough plot i was thinking of is that the reader left the sanctuary, and months into her hiding she’s accidentally discovered by simon somehow. i was also thinking a chasing/hiding/potentially fighting scene that eventually leads into (consensual!!) smut, but that part is really up to you and if you’re comfortable writing something like that. i’d be happy with or without it :) A/N:  Thank you so much to delia for commissioning this tailored piece from me!  I hope this ticks all your boxes!  If you’re interested in a tailored fic like this one, my inbox/dms are open to discussing it!

Like my work?  Tip me! Want a tailored fic?  Pay me to do it!

Six months and four days ago.

That was when you’d thrown your shit into a bag and decided that you were going to take your chances on the road.  The Sanctuary was a safe haven for a while, but its rules played on your conscience.  In the end, all of the death and destruction that occurred within those walls was something you just couldn’t live with.  Though you wanted to blame it all on the man in charge, it was impossible to.  Sure, Negan was a psychopath, but said psychopathy trickled down his ranks like bog water, infecting everybody else with its muddy stink.  He may have had a tight hold on everybody’s proverbial nuts, but that didn’t mean you could abide standing by while he burned people’s faces off and forced outsiders to work themselves to death for him.  The Saviors were no better for standing around and watching it happen.

You were no better for standing around and watching it happen.  Several times over.

In all regards, that place left you feeling numb and inhuman, as if you should have been shambling around with the dead.  It was that that kickstarted you into action:  a selfish desire to preserve yourself.  You’d be damned if you made it this far just to take yourself out because of guilt.

You were a trusted member of the Saviors, and the teams they sent you out with were small.  You’d thrown your bag full of gear into the back, driven to the specified location and waited for your team to disassemble.  When they were far enough away, you’d returned your keys to the ignition and stamped on the gas pedal, tearing out of the parking lot and speeding down the road like a street racer.

Thus, your life as an unofficial fugitive had begun.

You still remember it like it was yesterday.

The fire before you crackles as you sit in your temporary camp, its warmth drawing you back to the present.  The car you hijacked is a thing of the past, no gas in sight for miles despite your dedicated scouting, and all you have to your name is a rucksack with three bottles of water in it.  Not exactly the height of comfort–  not when you’d become so used to having a square meal every day back at the Sanctuary.

There’s no use in lamenting over it.  Instead, you finish what’s left of the squirrel you managed to catch before laying your head atop your rucksack, doing your best to get comfortable. Your body curls up in an effort to combat the chill.

You spend the night the same way you have every night since leaving that place:  dozing uncomfortably, with one eye permanently open as the late hours drag.  You have to wonder if they’re still looking for you after all this time.  There’s no doubt in your mind that Negan sent a team out in search of you to begin with–  especially when you’d stolen resources from him like you had–  but six months later?  Is it really worth burning through that much fuel and dispersing that many men just to recover one wayward vehicle?  To you, it isn’t, but you don’t know if you can say the same for Negan.  That man’s pride is about as sensitive as an untreated sore;  you jabbing your knife into it surely brought spite like you wouldn’t believe rushing to the surface in an effort to cushion the blow.

But six months, [Y/N].  That’s a long time to avoid a group as good at finding people as the Saviors are.  Everything might be okay.

That’s what you’ve been telling yourself for at least four days now.  It puts you at ease for long enough to close your eyes for thirty minutes before you repeat the process.  A few hours pass laboriously, your mind occupied by the sounds of crickets and frogs.

You’re jolted awake some time later by the sound of a vehicle, and you sit up so quickly that you feel dizzy.  It’s been several months since you’ve seen another living person, never mind heard a car on the road.  Hearing voices this close to you makes you feel as if you’re dreaming, but the blinding glow of a pair of headlights is unmistakable.

I’ve got to get out of here.  

You train your ears as you stand up as quietly as you can, cursing the rustle of leaves beneath your boots as you adjust your bag over your shoulder.  Your heart is hammering so hard in your chest that you fear they can hear it.

“... stay on the road…” “... he said…” “... it’s that way…” “... are you a fucking idiot?”

It sounds as if they’re arguing about which route to take, and you debate on whether to wait them out or run.  They could very well come this way, but fleeing would absolutely blow your cover.  There’s no way you’re getting through the leaves without causing some level of disturbance, no matter how carefully you place your feet.

“No, he’s right.  He’s right.”  The familiar voice causes goosebumps to raise along your arms, senses abuzz as you watch his broad figure enter the glare of the headlights.  Even without seeing his face, you know who it is.  Simon…  he’s out here.  Why is he out here?  “Cutting through the woods cuts our journey in half.  We’ll park here for the night and–”

Snap.

“What the hell was that?”  

The men draw their guns simultaneously.  One barrel– Simon’s barrel– is facing you, though the others aren't quite so precise.  Your attempt to step back into the trees slowly had resulted in you snapping a twig, the sound loud in the quiet night.

You watch as Simon shifts to the edge of the road, his neck craning in an effort to see through the thick undergrowth.  You press yourself against a tree and pray the darkness shields you.

I've GOT to get out of here.

“... probably just a corpse,”  he utters, gun lowering slowly.  You breathe out a sigh of relief, though it’s short-lived as he retrieves a torch from his belt and shines it in your general direction.  “I’ll go get it.  You fellas stay here ‘n’...”  The beam hits your face and you let out a hiss, the sudden brightness hurting your eyes.  Simon’s stare is wide, genuinely surprised.  “... well shit.”

The jig is up, this you know, and it causes you to turn on your heel and make a mad dash for the treeline, your own torch snatched from your belt in an effort to light your way.  Trying to navigate through trees in the pitch black is a recipe for disaster.  Your plan is to get in deep, shake off your inevitable pursuer, and kill your light.  You’ll lay low until the morning and work your way out from there.  Maybe you can work your way around and hijack their ride.

If all else fails, you’ll at least try to take Simon down with you.  Your knife isn’t for show.

Commotion starts behind you, and someone fires a shot as bootfalls start in your vague direction.  The crack of the bullet hitting a nearby tree has you doubling your efforts to run.  After a moment of consideration, you shed the rucksack from your shoulders and speed up.  The bottles were rattling around noisily;  it was the equivalent of having a huge glowing arrow taped to your back.  Losing the water is regrettable, but you can only imagine what will happen if Simon catches you.  You likely won't need it ever again.  He'll take you back there and Negan will kill you for crossing him.

Your descent into the forest is mad, desperate.  Trees phase into one another;  leaves are kicked up as you tear through them like an animal;  the sound of Simon running after you, hunting you, has your adrenaline skyrocketing as you barrel through the bracken.  With your heart in your throat, you emerge into a clearing and look around frantically, searching for any feasible means of hiding.  You're completely turned around now and realise that there isn't much point in trying to calculate your next move.

You realise it too late, your knife drawn into your hand in preparation to fight.

The sound of boots skidding to a halt has you turning your head, breathing heavily.  He may have been a ways away from you, but his long legs carry him much further than you.  The bastard's barely out of breath, even though you sprinted for several minutes.

“Damn,”  he says, his gun pointed square at your face.  “Look who it is.”

Your mind cycles through possibilities, but you realise there’s no point in trying to achieve any of them.  If you run, he’ll shoot you.  You don’t have any bullets for your own gun, and trying to get close enough to use your knife when he has a firearm at his disposal will result in you eating lead.  He walks a little further into the clearing, his boots forcing soft grass to capitulate, and you feel a wave of hopelessness wash over you.  It isn't only because of your current position.  It's because of the feelings that are being dredged up inside of you upon seeing him again.  The circumstances are less than fortunate, especially when he's acting like his usual cold self, but still...  being face to face with him again reminds you of what you left behind.

Apprehension fills your veins as he extends his arms, performing a whole body shrug.  “What?  We’re not even gonna reunite with a hug?”

“Where are your friends?”  you ask through your teeth, noting the lack of company.

“Told ‘em to stay with the truck,”  he replies, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world.  A facetious smile curls across his face as his hands fall back into position.  The gun almost looks inviting at this point, doubly so when you consider the barbed wire you're likely going to become very familiar with.  “You’re a smart lady, [Y/N].  Thought it was likely you’d try to double back ‘n’ steal the car.  Be honest–  you had that thought.”

Your silence speaks volumes, your teeth bared in a frustrated grimace.

“Oh come, ON, sweetheart.  Don’t look at me like that, like I’m the bad guy.  You ran away!”

“I’m not going back there, Simon,”  you spit.  “You can’t make me.”

Simon cocks his head like a confused puppy, though his smile is menacing as he closes the gap between you.  By the time he stops moving, you’re all but toe to toe.  You could stab him right now- drive that jagged edge into his side and make a break for it- but you feel paralysed by the heat of his body, by the doubt lingering in your mind.  He wouldn't really do this to me, would he?

The cold metal of his gun kisses your temple.  “I think I can make you do pretty much anything in this position, mm?”

Your heart thunders against your ribs as you look up at him with as much malintent as you can muster, knuckles beginning to turn white with how hard you're clutching your weapon.

Back at the Sanctuary, Simon and you had been close.  Really close.  You were often assigned to his team before being trusted with your own small subset of people, and you always looked out for one another.  You’d cleared several locations together;  had each other’s backs as you descended blindly into the dark in search of goods.  You'd been together through thick and thin  -  and your connection went beyond just working together.  He made you laugh;  he made you cry;  he made you feel safe, and Heaven knows that's the most important feeling in the world these days.

The stern furrow of your brow melts away as you think about how you used to be.  You think about him bringing you coffee on early morning runs;  you think about the way you'd nestled your head on his shoulder while attempting to sleep on the cold floor of an abandoned warehouse;  you think about the kiss you shared when he'd approached you late into your lookout shift.  Though you'd not entered an official relationship, nor confessed your feelings for him, you figured it was pretty obvious that that was where you were heading.

Only you'd left before that could happen.

"You're really going to sell me out?"  You curse your voice for quivering.  You shouldn't feel so betrayed after the things you've done, after leaving him behind like you did, but you do.  "You're just going to let Negan bash my head in?"

He regards you carefully, the smile fading from his face.  "... you think I wanted it to turn out this way?"  

"You can look the other way."

"You know I can't."

"Of course you can."  This is as close to begging as you'll ever get.  You know there's good in him–  you've seen it–  and if there's a chance you can reach it then you'll try.  "He doesn’t know you saw me.  He never will if you don’t mention it.  I'm–"

"You didn't even say goodbye,"  Simon interjects, his expression rueful.  Though it stings, you can't help but feel grateful.  Now you're seeing the real him, the one that doesn't give a damn about his assignment.  The one who has feelings that go beyond Negan's expectations of him.  "Did you mean to leave me behind without a damn word?"

"I knew you'd try to stop me,"  you admitted, your lower lip nibbled on nervously.  "I'm sorry.  I am, Simon.  But I couldn't stay."

Simon's gun falls from your temple as he sighs with exasperation.  "Why not?  You can't pretend you weren't living large in that place.  You had a nice room, food and water, and a team of your own, and you just went and threw it all away?  For what?!"  Before you can answer, he tuts and levels you with a harsh look.  "Jesus Christ, [Y/N], Negan was talking to us about promoting you even further.  You had it good!"

"So you're just going to gloss over every cruel thing he's done and reap the benefits?  You're just going to pretend he's reasonable?"  You can't stop your frustration from spiralling.  This has been building up inside of you for years.  Just because you'd only recently found the guts to do something about it didn't mean you hadn't found Negan's methodology dubious from the get-go.  He walked around toting "we don't rape" as if he was the only sane person left on earth.  As if he was saying something particularly profound and rare.  You couldn't stand it any longer.  "I was tired of being a part of that system, Simon!  People were being killed left and right.  Tortured  -  and we all had to watch.  How can you accept that?”

“It keeps people in line.”

“What happened to Dwight wasn’t fair!”

A cold chuckle passes his lips, his free hand hooking into his belt.  A flicker of envy crosses his face.  “So it was Dwighty-boy that did you in?”

Your lips press into a thin line, your annoyance paramount.  You understand the hold that Negan has over every member in the Sanctuary, but Negan isn’t here.  In fact, nobody of merit is.  It’s just you, Simon and the trees  -  and somehow, that angers you even more.  You reach out and sink your fingers into his shoulder, squeezing hard.

“It wasn’t Dwight.  It was everything.”

You know in your heart that the only reason he’s hesitating is because of the spark between you.  If you were anybody else in any other time, he’d approach you with pragmatism so cold that it would stagger you.  You’d seen it.  You’d seen it with the men at the Sanctuary;  you’d seen it with Gregory;  hell, you’d seen it with Rick.

His soft spot for you still exists.

“... I should’ve told you,”  you say carefully, feeling a rush of heat as he locks eyes with you in the dark.  In spite of the time you’ve spent apart, you haven't forgotten what it was like to be close to him.  Now that he’s back, standing but a couple of feet away from you, you can feel those familiar sparks fizzling between you.  The unresolved tension feels so thick that you’re drowning in it.  “But would it have made a difference?”

The moonlight illuminates his face as he turns it upwards and heaves out a sigh.  That familiar muscular tic in his jaw is currently going crazy, and it takes all of your willpower not to lean forward and kiss it.

“... no,”  he admits belatedly, head tilting down to look at you.  Though you can barely see him, you know his eyes well enough to know that they’re sad.

“I missed you, Si,”  you confess, and you half expect him to lift his gun and whack you over the side of the head with it based on how hard he’s staring at you.  Before he can, you press your hand further into his shoulder, rubbing a soothing path along it before it curls around the back of his neck.  Your fingers dip beneath the upturned collar of his jacket, feeling at his bare skin.  Nails scratch gently, soft greying strands of hair threaded between your digits.

He shifts his weight towards you, his hands falling from his hips.  His pistol is now limp by his side.  If you hadn’t meant what you said, now would be the perfect time to disarm him and take your leave, but you can’t.  You just can’t.  Not to him.

“How much?”

You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t expect a verbal answer.

The distance between you promptly vanishes as you lean up and kiss him.  It’s a gentle offering, one that mirrors his uncertain approach when he was on lookout duty with you, and you don’t miss the quiet sigh he lets out when you pull away.  The feeling of his moustache tickling your upper lip lingers long after you back off, a pleasant heat pooling in your belly as you feel one of his large hands settle on your lower back.

He’s debating on what to do;  debating on whether he should apprehend you or not, and you attempt to make the decision for him by kissing him again.

“[Y/N]--”  he murmurs, though he doesn’t fight you when your hands raise to cup his face.

When you reconnect, it’s with passion, and the dull clatter of his gun against the grass signals to you that he’s made his choice.  Your knife joins the pile before your back hits the rough bark of a tree, and suddenly his large frame smothers your senses whole, his tongue meeting yours in a blatant display of lust.  Moaning into his mouth feels right, and he swallows the sound with all the greed of a king.

“Simon…”  You whine as he breaks the kiss, though your disappointment is short-lived as he buries his head into your neck.  The feeling of him kissing and nipping at your skin makes your head spin, legs trembling as the heat of his mouth travels straight to your core.  “I missed you…  I missed you so fucking much…”

Your words provoke him, a deep, guttural growl let out against your pulse point as your legs wrap tight around his waist.  Trembling fingers curl in his hair, flesh bared to him with a pliant tilt of your neck, and he takes advantage of your obedience wholeheartedly.  You gasp as his hips rock into yours, and he mirrors the exhalation heatedly as he sucks your neck hard enough to leave a mark.

Suddenly, your back is no longer scraping against the tree, and you let out a quiet squeal as you tumble into the grass, the man dropping to his knees above you.  Your hands reach up for him, and he meets you with another forceful kiss, his fingers sliding down your sides and under your shirt.

“Open your legs,”  he breathes hotly against your mouth, and you honour the command by doing as he says, dizzy with desire.  The feeling of him positioning a knee between your legs makes you want to drool, and before he can even think to direct you further, you’re already grinding against it.  Its solid mass provides you with friction so delicious that you want to scream, and you already know that the only sensation that will top it is Simon being any degree of inside you.  Even the idea of his thick fingers spreading you open makes your mouth water, and you’re not even going to mention the sort of frenzy his cock stirs up inside of you.  “Well shit,”  you hear him seethe, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes as your hips rock on their own accord.  “Seems you really did miss me.  Look at you, rutting against my leg like a damn whore.”

The words shoot straight to your core, your panties suddenly feeling much too damp to be comfortable.  “Simon, please.”

“I’m gonna take my time with you,”  he tells you, unequivocal satisfaction dripping from every word as his fingers raise your shirt.  “This is what you get for leaving me behind, like I wasn’t worth squat.”  He punctuates the word with a roll of his knee, and you all but sob at the pleasure that racks through you.  “We’ll see what you think of me when I’m done.”

The early morning sinks its chilly teeth into your flesh as Simon pulls your shirt over your head, followed by your bra, and you fight the urge to reach up and shield your breasts from view.  You aren't typically very concerned about being seen, but you've also never met anyone that makes you feel as needy as he does.  

As if on cue, a sharp exhale leaves you as he reaches up and pinches your nipples, rolling the now stiff peaks between his fingers.  His hands are so big and so skilled that you feel your resolve crumbling.  You'd normally put up more of a fight, at least attempt to even out the playing field, but you know as well as he does that you’re at his complete mercy.

You arch into his mouth as he locks it around one of them, his tongue drawing wet, agonising circles around the hard bud as he rocks his leg in tandem with your less-than-dignified ruts.

“We could’ve done this way sooner if you’d just stayed put,”  Simon murmurs, his facial hair leaving a pleasant burn behind as he trails kisses along your squirming body.  “I’d have had you transferred to my outpost.  We’d have fucked every damn day.”  You mewl in response, and you don’t resist when he pops the button on your pants and drags them down your legs, bare skin hot against the rough fabric of his cargo pants.  They’re snug enough around his hips to give you a glorious view of the half-hard mass straining against the front of them, your tongue wetting your lips in a wordless admission of hunger.  “But you royally screwed the pooch on that one, huh pidge?”

His hand slides between your legs, replacing his knee with vigour, and the concentrated friction drives you buck wild, head lolling to the side as your eyes roll back.  You’re not ashamed to admit that in the midst of your sleepless nights, thoughts of Simon kept you occupied.  You wonder if he ever thought about you in that way after your sudden leave, and the idea of him jerking off furiously as he curses your name has your body erupting with heat.

“Simon–”  It’s all but a cry as his large digits stroke along your clothed slit, the pressure of his fingertips both perfect and not at all enough.  “Simon, please.”

He gives you a thin smile, one full of faux pity as he runs his thumb in maddening little circles.  Even through the material, your clit aches, your tight heat clenching around nothing.

“Please what?”

“Please–  your fingers–”  You hesitate as he pushes the material aside gradually, and the electricity that jolts up the length of your spine makes you forget your own name.  “Inside.  Inside, please.”

It must stroke his ego, seeing you so horny when he’s barely begun, because the next thing you feel is two of his fingers buried to the knuckle inside you, stretching you out wide.  You let out a loud, high-pitched moan, legs trembling, fisting grass beside your head as he draws them back and fills you again.  When his thumb joins in, rubbing slick rings around your clit, you feel your world narrowing to a needle point, ecstasy smothering you in its seedy heat as you clamp tight around his digits.

He doesn’t let you rest.  Your orgasm doesn’t so much pass as it does begrudgingly decline, for though he withdraws his fingers from you in order to lick them clean, his others abuse your spasming hole with just as much ferocity.

“That’s all it took?”  A breathless chuckle leaves him, his finger leaving his mouth with an audible pop!  “I dread to think how you’re gonna handle the rest of me, sweetheart.”

In any other context, you’d be incredibly irritated by his arrogance, but his words sink straight into your core, fanning the flames that vehemently consume your lower half.

“Fuck me,”  you implore, you voice quavering as you watch him unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly.  He’s taking too long, at least in your impatient eyes, and you’re tired of being teased.  You sit up and bat his hands away, taking as much control as he’ll allow as you shift his clothing aside and take hold of him.  Christ, he’s big.  He exhales shakily as you pump your hand along his cock, warm palm providing him with the friction he too desires.  Your thumb against his tip, smearing pre-cum around it like glazing, feels like satin.

Simon catches your eye, gaze heavy and full of emotion.  His bravado seems to have dissipated like steam.

“Didn’t stop wantin’ you, [Y/N]...”  His voice is thick and low, reaching down into the deepest parts of you as you jerk him off.  His speech grows lazy and slurred as you lean over and kiss his neck.  “Went out lookin’ for ya myself… didn’t tell Negan… but I couldn’t find ya…”  He pauses to let out a gruff groan, hips jerking upwards before you push him back–  just enough to have him fall onto his ass, your body positioned above him.

“I’m here now,”  you whisper as you raise your hips, letting the tip of his cock slide between your dripping wet folds, heart leaping into your throat as it nudges against your clit.  “Ah…”

His hands on your hips bring you back to earth, guiding you down until he’s sheathed in your tight warmth.  The fit is snug, like a glove, and the pair of you moan in sync as your bodies join, his fingers digging into your hips with enough force to bruise.  Your forehead presses against his before you bridge what little distance remains between you, mouths hot and hungry as you ride him in earnest.  The grass is soft against your knees, and as your lips drag along his jaw and down his neck, you feel your head clouding pleasantly once more.  Thoughts of Negan's wrath ebb away, replaced only by the feelings brought on by the man beneath you;  by his strong hands and his masculine scent;  by his quiet grunts and his laboured breaths.

“Good girl,”  he praises as you speed up, the obscene sounds of skin on skin tinting his vision rosy.  With his pleasure reaching a crescendo, he pushes you down onto your back, rejoicing in the feeling of your legs winding tight around his hips like a ribbon as he begins thrusting into you.  “Such a good girl.  I’m gonna cum.”

The statement fills you with such excitement that you grin wide, the feeling of him bottoming out and filling you to the hilt repeatedly causing your toes to curl and your nails to dig into his shirt.

“Simon–”  You give him your best doe eyes, heart beating so hard that you worry it’s going to burst right out of your chest.  “Fill me up.”

The look he gives you is a cross between bemused and so delirious with want that it makes you see stars, and before either of you can stop it, you feel his hips still and extreme warmth explode inside you.  Not your brightest idea–  far from it, actually–  but you’d be lying if you said you didn't feel drunk on the feeling of him using you like his own personal dump.  In fact, it provokes your second orgasm, this one even more blinding than the last, his name yelled out into the quiet.  To hell with it.  You hope his men back at the truck hear you crying out for him.

His arms tremble with the effort it takes to remain upright, and in one fell swoop he flips himself onto his back beside you, panting hard as the euphoria runs its course.  By the time his brain starts returning to him, it’s too late to reverse what he’s done  -  and he finds that he doesn’t want to anyway.  It's selfish, but he's left his mark, and that's more than most people can say.

Silence stretches between you, and Simon breaks it by turning his head in your direction, a cheeky smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.  “... did you really use sex to try and distract me?”

“No,”  you say, and your sober look has his smile dimming in seconds.  “... I really did miss you.  I regret leaving you back in that place.”  Despite your exhaustion, you force yourself to sit up, fiddling with the opening in his shirt as you crawl over him again.  You can’t believe that you hadn’t taken it off–  what an oversight when he looks like he does, all teeming muscle and chiselled edges.  “But I could always try again.  To distract you, I mean.”

The chuckle he gives you is dry, though his hands are warm and receptive against your hips as you settle in his lap.  He still isn’t quite sure what to do with you, doesn’t know whether the right thing to do is bring you back home- maybe he can talk you into coming with him willingly?- or let you try your luck out here.  It feels too much like letting go, especially now that he's had a taste of you.

She’s dead either way, his brain chimes sadly, and he dismisses the thought before he can linger on it too long.  No she isn’t.  She’s lasted this long, hasn’t she?

He can’t think about it anymore.  It’s just too uncomfortable.

“... Negan’s not expecting me back for three days yet,”  he confesses, his voice like gravel as you slowly unbutton his shirt.  “I’ve got some more time to kill.”

That answer, for better or for worse, satisfies you.

[thran-duils]

Negan Masterlist

This includes the variations of Negan I have written, including:

Alpha!Negan

SERIES

In Your Arms

Alone and pregnant, in the post apocalyptic world after your Alpha died, you’re found by the Saviors and brought to Negan’s doorstep. Negan may be the answer to your loneliness.

Alpha!Negan x Omega!Fem Reader (Pregnancy)

ONE SHOT

Lesson Learned

Reader is caught flirting and Negan needs to teach her a lesson.

Negan x Fem!Reader (Smut)

You Just Made My Day

Reader meeting negan for the first time and is not impressed by his flirting.

Negan x Fem!Reader

My Goddamn Future

Thank you, @distinguishedqueenofbooks​ for the prompt of “Negan finds your pregnancy test and has a nursery made for the baby, without you knowing that he knows.” I had to have some angst because hello it’s me. But, fluff at the end!

Negan x Fem!Reader (Slight angst)

Lay Her Down

One of Negan’s wives gets bit and Negan tries to save her.

Negan x Fem!Reader (Angst, violence)

He Likes You A Lot

Reader and Negan meet up for his favorite pass time.

Negan x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Mind Games

This is a one-shot smut between Fem!Reader and Negan. She plays a game to try to manipulate him. He’s not into passive aggressiveness and turns it back to remind her who is in charge.

Negan x Fem!Reader (Smut, unprotected sex, power dynamics)

DRABBLES

A Bite (Smut)

Only For Me (Smut)

NEGAN X READER X OTHER

This Is What You Came For

Reader volunteers to go into Negan’s compound willingly to get inside information. Eventual Negan smut. Implied feelings between Reader and Daryl.

Negan x Fem!Reader, Daryl x Fem!Reader (Angst, smut, violence)

Fly the Coop

Reader escapes with Sherry and decides to go find Rick and his group. Negan is not pleased he has lost two of his wives. Eventual Reader/Tara.

Negan x Fem!Reader, Tara x Fem!Reader (Angst, smut, violence)

It’s Your Night

Negan having sex with Reader x Tanya and wanting them ending up pregnant ofc.

Negan x Reader x Tanya (Breeding kink, smut, threesome F/F/M)

[you-a-southpaw-doll]

MASTERLIST

Masterlist

Hey, yall! Here’s my Masterlist. I’ll try to keep it updated as I post new stories. As of right now, it is currently up to date with all of my works so far. - Erin (2/11/2021)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Negan: (The Walking Dead) (27 one-shot stories + 2 chapter series total)

Zombie Apocalypse One-Shot(s): (13 stories)

Brace For It ~ Negan x Reader. Reader’s best Friend (Female) x Reader.

The Sheriff Returns ~ Crossover with Dead & Breakfast (Includes The Sheriff) ~ The Sheriff/Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

Out Of Place ~ Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

Squeaky Surprise ~ Negan x Reader (Friendship)

Devil in Public. Angel in Private ~ Negan x Reader

Leather ~ Negan x Reader

Lucille ~ Negan x Reader

Sleepover - Pallet Style ~ Negan x Reader

Daddy’s Nap ~ Negan x Reader

Leader or Not ~ Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

Daddy’s Family ~ Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC) [romantic]. Negan x Lucille (OFC and not the Lucille from the story) [paternal]. Negan x Issac “Ike” (OMC).

“…Step on a Fuckin’ LEGO!” ~  Negan x Reader. Melissa (OFC)/Ike (OMC) [Mother/Toddler Son]

Buzzed ~ Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

Pre-Apocalypse One-Shot(s): (2 stories)

The Alarm Clock ~ Negan x Reader

Comin’ Home ~ Negan x Reader

Alternate Universe(s) One-Shot(s): (12 stories)

Temporary Roommate ~ College Student!Negan ~ Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC) (Friendship)

In the Name of the Law ~ Officer!Negan ~ Negan x Reader

Sniffles ~ Single Dad!Negan ~ Negan x Christian (OMC) (Father/Son)

History in the Makin’ ~ Professor!Negan ~ Negan x Reader

Teacher of the Year ~ Coach!Negan ~ Negan x Reader (Married). Negan x Emily (Father/Daughter). Reader x Emily (Mother/Daughter)

“I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” ~ Santa!Negan ~ Negan x Reader (Married). Negan x Emily (Father/Daughter). Reader x Emily (Mother/Daughter)

Ringin’ in the New Year ~ Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

The Teacher’s Lover ~ Teacher!Negan ~ Negan x Reader

The Ride ~ Teacher!Negan ~ Negan x Reader

“You Only Want Me…” ~ Modern!Negan ~ Negan x Reader

Graduation ~ Negan x Leigh [Named Reader] (boyfriend/girlfriend)

“I Love You” ~ Teacher!Negan ~ Negan x Lucille (Husband/Wife –> Soon-to-be Ex-Husband/Ex-Wife). Negan x Reader (Eventual Romantic). Negan x Simon (Best Friends). Negan x Son (Father/Son). Negan x Daughter (Father/Daughter)

Chapter Series: (2 stories)

Another One Bites The Dust (AOBTD) Masterlist ~ (Ongoing) [Also includes Jeffrey Dean Morgan]

Lovin’ Him Masterlist ~ Ongoing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Joe Merriwether: (Solace) (1 story total) One-Shot(s): (1 story)

“It’s Vegas, Baby!” ~ Joe Merriwether x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Sheriff: (Dead & Breakfast) (1 story total) Alternate Universe One-Shot(s): (1 story)

The Sheriff Returns ~ Crossover with TWD (Includes Negan) ~ The Sheriff/Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ John Winchester: (Supernatural) (2 stories total) One-Shot(s): (1 story)

His Salvation ~  John Winchester x Leigh Sullivan (OFC) (romantic).

Alternate Universe One-Shot(s): (1 story)

His Jacket and Dog Tags ~ Teacher!John ~ John Winchester x Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Max: (The Resident) (1 story total) One-Shot(s): (1 story)

Deaf ~ Max x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jeffrey Dean Morgan: (5 stories + 1 chapter series) One-Shot(s): (5 stories)

Dozin’ ~ Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader.

Goin’ To The Doctor’s ~ Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC).

“Come Back To Bed, Doll.” ~ Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader.

The Hug ~ Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader

“A Wee Bit of Cuddles, eh, sweetheart?” ~ Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Amber (OFC).

Chapter Series: (1 story)

Another One Bites The Dust (AOBTD) Masterlist ~ (Ongoing) [Also includes Negan]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Supernatural Related Posts: Supernatural Music Playlist:

Season 1 Music Playlist

Season 2 Music Playlist

Season 3 Music Playlist

Season 4 Music Playlist

Season 5 Music Playlist

Season 6 Music Playlist

Season 7 Music Playlist

Season 8 Music Playlist

Season 9 Music Playlist

Season 10 Music Playlist

Season 11 Music Playlist

Season 12 Music Playlist

Season 13 Music Playlist

Season 14 Music Playlist

Season 15 Music Playlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Other Fic Collabs:

With @mychemicalimagines

14 Movies - 24 characters - 32 stories

6 T.V. Shows - 8 characters - 9 stories

2 Celebs - 2 stories.

With @supernaturalwritingbunker: (at bottom of linked post)

1 T.V. Show - 2 characters - 7 stories

1 celeb - 1 story

[writethelifeyouwant]

Dive Bar, Ch. 4/?

Pairing: Dean x Sam,  Dean x OFC (Dany) x Sam (previous chapters)

Rating: 18+

Prompt/Summary: @spnkinkbingo square - Gay Panic (eventually, I don’t know how to write short things, so the gay panic comes later). Dany and Dean hit it off at a bar and Dean is confident it’s a sure thing. But Dean doesn’t know that Dany’s has a dare to complete, and he definitely didn’t imagine his night would end with his pull inviting his little brother to come home with them too.

WC: 2262

Warnings: angstttt, mentions of incest, brother/brother incest, mentions of blow jobs

Beta: my enabler - @negans-lucille-tblr​ 😘😘

Chapter 3

                                                            ***

At their next stop off, for a dinner that was slightly more substantial than their gas station lunch, they still weren’t talking. There was nothing to talk about besides what Dean resolutely refused to address, so Sam stuck to his silent treatment. 

Sam wasn’t sure why he wanted Dean to talk about the previous night so badly. If Dean turned around and asked him how he felt about what went down, he wouldn’t have a good answer. It was probably unfair of him to expect Dean, of all people, to be able to process it if not even Sam could. Okay, it was definitely unfair, Sam thought to himself. But in true little brother fashion, there was no way he was about to own up to that. 

Why did he have to make it such a big deal? Like Dean said, so they banged the same chick, so what? 

But that’s not all you did, that voice in Sam’s head pushed in again. You blew your big brother. Looked the man in the eye, the man who practically raised you, then sucked his cock down your throat. What the hell made you think that was a good play?

Dean had enjoyed it though, hadn’t he? It definitely sounded like he had. But how does that make it better, Sam, seriously? 

It does, he argued with himself. It does because if he enjoyed it too then it’s not just me that’s screwed to all hell. 

                                                              *

Dean could tell Sam was up in his head, obsessing over the night before. And the longer Sam stayed quiet, the more Dean worried about what he might be thinking about it. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what they’d done last night wasn’t normal. Wasn’t good. Except it was. It had been so fucking good he’d felt the ghost of Sam’s fingers and lips on his dick every time he had the misfortune to think about it again. And that had been a lot. That’s why you did the right thing shutting Sam up earlier, he reminded himself. Not the time to be popping random boners like a teenager. But the silence was making him self conscious as fuck. 

Once he’d made it through his burger, Dean pulled out his phone and started cold calling hunters, asking around for any leads in the midwest. They got a dime about a string of mysterious deaths about 100 miles south; violent and fairly improbable deaths. Very distracting. Thank god. 

The Impala was a little less tense now that they had a problem to solve. Their voices sounded a little less strained when they ran through the typical gamut of supernatural evil that could be causing all the mayhem they were driving for. 

When they made it into town, it was late enough that most reputable establishments would have been annoyed with them trying to get a room at that hour. Luckily, they didn’t stay in many reputable establishments, and the motel Dean pulled up next to didn’t bat an eyelid when two guys walked in with next to no luggage and wanted to pay in cash. They saw that a lot. 

Right now, Dean wasn’t wild about what they must have thought they were there for, and his insides were screaming out - Not here to fuck, I swear! Just your standard monster hunt. Nothing to see here. Not brothers sleeping with each other, that’s for sure. But as he couldn’t reasonably set the record straight, Dean left it, and strode back to the car to grab his duffle before cracking into their motel room. Sam followed close behind, slinging his own duffle onto his chosen bed. 

                                                            *

Exiting the bathroom after he’d gotten ready for bed, he was met with Dean holding a bottle of bourbon and wearing a conciliatory expression. Still silent, Sam nodded and accepted the glass Dean handed him a moment later. 

Sam settled onto his bed, already in just his t-shirt and boxers, and sipped quietly at his drink. Dean set his glass down on the table between them and took his own turn in the bathroom. He emerged in his typical sleep gear which, Sam all of a sudden remembered, was just his boxers. 

Jeez, put a shirt on. Sam tried to look anywhere other than at his very nearly naked brother, but it picked at him that if last night wasn’t a big deal, this shouldn’t bother him. It had never bothered him before. Although… Sam thought to himself. He had looked before, noticed the muscle definition, the odd freckle that hid behind the hair on Dean’s chest.  

Sam gulped down nearly half the bourbon in one go in an attempt to burn that thought out of his mind as quickly as possible. That is not how little brothers look at their big brothers. That is not how he looks at Dean. It’s just because he likes guys, at the very least he likes having sex with them. That much he’d come to terms with at college. And it’s not like there’s many dating opportunities in hunting, and Dean didn’t know anything about Sam’s broader sexuality so he wasn’t about to hook up with a guy at a bar when Dean was expecting him to take home a pair of boobs; or more typically, sulk off to the impala while Dean and his guest got their motel room for the evening. Dean was just the only guy around most of the time, that’s all. And since Jess, and then hunting, it had been years since he’d had the chance to to really look at another guy like that. So yeah, he looked, because Dean was not a bad thing to look at. 

But right now, Sam’s brain was at war with itself, one side wanting Dean to pull on a shirt and the sweats he’d wear when it got cold, and the other side wanting to peel off the last bit of fabric covering Dean’s skin so he could get a real look. And maybe another taste. And with that, Sam downed the rest of his drink, flicked off the table lamp, and quickly tucked himself under the covers with Dean at his back, who was left to stare blankly at a lump of blankets and messy hair, his full glass of whisky in his hand. 

                                                             *

Even though they’d driven a fair bit south of where they’d been yesterday, the grass still crunched under his boots when Sam trod across it the next morning. He’d already been out for a short run, and arrived back at the motel to find an empty room, with Dean presumably out looking for food. Sam settled himself with his laptop on a picnic table and rebooted the pages he’d had open the previous night at dinner when they started looking into this case. He brought up a new window to look into a thought he’d had on his run earlier. 

“This is a crappy park.” Dean arrived with their coffee and shoved a paper cup towards Sam, which he took gratefully.

Sam chuckled incredulously when he looked up to his brother, attention momentarily drawn away from his laptop screen. “The park is fine, Dean.”

“No swings. You gotta have swings in a park.” Dean shoved half his donut into his mouth.

Sam fixed him with an admonishing stare for a moment before letting out his amusement in a sharp exhale. “Okay, sure.”

“The swings were always your favourite. You don’t remember that?” Sam shook his head puzzledly. “Yeah,” Dean huffed in the way he does. “When you were a rugrat I couldn’t pull you off those things. Said it felt like flying.” 

Sam stared at him for a moment with something behind his eyes that Dean couldn't work out. He ran out of time to try; Sam’s hair fell back in front of his eyes when he looked down to his laptop again. 

“Hey, so, get this. I’ve been looking into the local lore and I think our victims -”

“How do you have wifi right now?” Dean asked through a mouthful of the other half of his donut.

“Phone hotspot. Want to focus for a second, Dean? People are, you know, dying here.”

“Yeah yeah,” Dean grumbled. And he tried to focus on what Sam was saying about the creature that might be hanging out in the woods that he ran by that morning, Dean swore he was trying. But deciding to focus on Sam’s lips as a means to concentrate on the words that were coming out of them proved to be a thoroughly misguided strategy. Because the second he looked at Sam’s lips all he could think about was what they had looked like wrapped around his cock. What they’d felt like dragging across his skin. When Sam’s tongue flicked out to catch a drop of coffee that had beaded on the rim of the cup, Dean’s own tongue went dry, his breath caught in his throat. 

What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole? Dean hoped his distress wasn’t showing on his face. It seemed like he was doing a decent job at convincing Sam he was listening, because Sam was still talking. This was really gonna bite him in the ass later if he had no clue what Sam was saying this whole time. 

Maybe you want Sam to bite you in the ass? Fuck, no, stop it. Dean was used to arguing back and forth with some semblance of a moral compass, though it usually lost, but this time he needed it to win. He had just been sitting there remembering how he used to push a little Sammy on the swings when he was squirt sized. Jumping from that, to wanting him to suck you off does not make you a good brother. Know what it makes you? An asshole. He was supposed to protect Sammy, take care of him, not take care of him. 

“Dean,” Sam’s voice saying his name cut through the noise in his head, and he looked up at his little brother. He hadn’t realised he’d been scrubbing his hands across his face, no wonder Sam was looking at him like a sad puppy right now. “You okay, dude?” There was a hint of annoyance but it was mostly concern.

“Yeah,” Dean blinked and ran his fingers up over his face to scrub through his hair. “Totally awesome.” 

“Okay, well,” Sam didn't seem convinced, but maybe he wasn’t in the mood to push it. “Let’s go get our fed suits on and head over there.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.” Dean swung off the picnic bench and crumpled his coffee in one hand, tossing it to the nearest trash can. Sam snickered when it bounced off the rim, and flung his own to the same can from further back, landing it dead centre. Smirking, he set off with his laptop under his arm and Dean pulling faces behind him the whole walk back to the motel. 

“Where we heading again?��� 

The glare Sam gave him made it clear he wouldn’t be getting an answer. 

                                                             *

By the time they’d made it to the local bar and restaurant that evening to grab some food and scrutinise the local wildlife for signs of supernatural proclivities, Sam was seriously confused. Dean had been acting off the whole day. And not just in the typical evasive act he pulled when he didn’t want to talk about his feelings, he was spacing out of conversations about perfectly mundane things. Witnesses had started getting annoyed with him after the third time he asked the same question Sam had literally seconds beforehand. When they’d been let into the room of one of the victims, a girl about their age - just out of college, he hadn’t made any jokes about her extensive stuffed animal collection (those bears were freakin’ everywhere man), or the vibrator not so skilfully hidden down the side of her bed. When Sam had switched the music in the car, no warning and no asking for permission, Dean hadn’t batted an eyelid. And Sam had changed it to smooth jazz. 

Now Sam was standing, bewildered, by a barrel serving as a table that he’d been about to sit down at, because when he’d grab Dean’s shoulder to direct him towards the one empty table in the vicinity of the bar, Dean had broken his grip so fast you’d have thought Sam had insulted their mother. Dean came back from the bar with two beers and some menus, dropping all of them unceremoniously onto the barrel-top, and that’s when Sam noticed. 

This was the first time Dean had taken off his fed jacket all day and now he was rolling up his sleeves and loosening his tie, unwinding from the persona and his bracelets were gone. This was the weird thing to end all the weird things that Dean had done all day. Since Sam had given Dean those stupid bracelets nearly a decade ago, he couldn’t remember a single day when Dean wasn’t wearing them. 

It wasn’t like they were valuable or anything. It was wooden craft store beads and elephant-hair cord that Sam had strung together at a summer camp when he was twelve. And he’d been embarrassed to give them to Dean when he got home, wondered why he thought Dean would want some lame homemade souvenir, but Dean had coaxed the presents out of Sam, and insisted that he loved them. And that was that, they’d been on his wrists ever since. But not today. Sam’s lungs deflated. 

Fuck. 

***

Tags: @negans-lucille-tblr​ @hawkerz12​ @babybrotherandthedemon​ @dylansbabygirl24​ @mineshinamary​ @popsensationnicole23​ @spn-problems​ @donthateme454​ @doyouknowsamw​ @peridottea91​@delightfulbakeryaliendeputy @fictionallemons​ @petitgateau911​ @natastic​ @marvelfansworld​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @akshi8278​ @crashlyrose​ @miufel​ @lyarr24​ @itsthedoctah10​ @kiss-my-peachy-arse​ @leftlokiofpuppy​ @tftumblin​ @devilsbby​ @alice101macwil​ @caitlinvd​ @j-ai-adore-dean​ @disneysloot​ @half-closeted-bi-girl​ @deandreamernp​

[memelover1024]

Spy in Alexandria

The Walking Dead - Oneshot 1700 words

Daryl x Negans Daughter/Spy OFC

“How many walkers have you killed?”

“I don't know, a lot”

“How many people have you killed?”

“One”

“Why?”

“He killed my brother, he deserved it.”

Maria sat in one of the cells that they had at the prison, speaking to a man named Rick Grimes. Rick just thought Maria was a weak, small girl surviving on her own in the woods in the middle of the apocalypse. How wrong he was.

“Well i'm Rick Grimes, this is Daryl” he pointed to the beefy hunter staring at her from the corner. “And that's Carol.” Carol smiled at her. She shyly smiled back trying not to be annoyed. Of course she knew who these people were. She had been watching the prison for a week on the orders of her father.  Since the group was large she had to gain their trust before her father could make his move, but these people didn't trust easily. This was going to be fun.

Two Years Later

“Don't do this Daryl. You'll get yourself killed, you know that.” she begged, following him out of the house they shared at Alexandria to where he kept his motorcycle, crossbow hung over his back swinging with his steps. He didn't respond to her and just kept walking. Maria knew Dwight and others would be waiting for him. They were making their move soon. She’d tried to delay the inevitable for the people she’d grown to love but she couldn’t stall any longer. Her father was now going to take what he thought was his. All she could do now was hope that the people she loved didn’t fight, more importantly keep the man she loved from getting killed before the real fighting even began.

“Daryl stop” she yelled, catching up to him grabbing his arm. He turned sharply to face her. A stern visage.

“Why do ya care so much ‘bout what I do” he asked angrily. They stared at each other a moment before Maria grabbed his neck and pulled his lips to hers. Daryl was shocked but then relaxed into her. She pulled away slightly and rested their foreheads together, noses touching.

“Cause I care about you daryl, so please. Don't go.”

“Why?”

“Cause your gonna get yourself killed, and I don't want you to die,”

“You don't know that,”

“But I do” she shrieked. He looked into her eyes.

“How” she wanted to scream at him, at her father at herself. She knew this was going to happen and she got herself attached. She wanted to tell Daryl the truth, about how her father had assigned her to gain their trust but that she fell in love with him, that she was loyal to both groups, not just one. But she couldn't do that. And she knew that if she did, Daryl would probably kill her or at least never trust her again. She knew her father would never leave her out in the cold. If he found out how she felt about her targets she would be punished but she wouldn't be abandoned or killed. Her father had never been a kind man and during the apocalypse he had only gotten colder, but he always kept her safe and she owed him her life. She wouldn't fail him. She could for the sake of her father, the sake of herself, and for the sake of Daryl, cause she knew if he found out about her feelings for Daryl he would kill him.

“You-you cant, you just can’t, you can't, daryl, daryl look at me. Please d-dont.”

“I have to ma’ marie, I'll be back, I promise.” he turned around and walked away towards the bike. He got on and left towards Sanctuary.

“Where is he going?” she heard rosita say behind her. She turned to fing rosita, glen and michonne all running up to her watching daryl leave alexandria. She turned back to watch him as well,

“He's goin after dwight.” she told them.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

The body of the man hangs above them, squirming and struggling. The group looked up at it with sad eyes. The man was still and they felt heat behind them. The roadblock was on fire. Simon's voice then rang through.

“Your treatin’ your people good, right? Like it was your last day on earth? Or maybe one of theirs? You better go, it’s gonna get hot. You go get where you’re going. Well meet you there.” Maria knew Simon was talking to her. It was his little joke anytime he would cross paths with them. He would imbed hidden messages in his words just for Maria.

The group was walking through the woods carrying Maggie on a stretcher. Maria had told them she knew how to get to Hilltop through a path in the woods. That was a lie, it was a path straight to the Saviors. She was leading one of her friends to their death. When they got to the clearing in front of a RV she stopped and they looked to her expectantly.

“Why did you stop? We’re out in the open. We have to get Maggie to Hilltop.” Abraham said to her. She looked at them, her eyes filling with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered tears falling down her face. They all gave her confused looks except Rick. Rick knew. She heard footsteps behind her and she quickly wiped her eyes.

“Well Well Well. It’s so nice of you guys to join us!” Simon mocked a smile on his face.

“Maria?” Carl said to her shocked. Maria just stared at the ground. She couldn’t look at them. Simon started whistling the signature saviors whistle and the clearing was soon surrounded. Dwight and a few others came behind the group and put guns to their heads and took their weapons, forcing them down to their knees. A van pulled up to the clearing and out of the back they pulled Rosita, Eugene, Glen, Michonne, and Daryl. She stared at Daryl as they put him on his knees next to the others. His eyes raised to meet hers and she watched them turn from fear to heartbreak to disgust in a matter of seconds when he saw her on her feet next to Simon and realized what she had done. She wanted to run to him. To explain everything. To tell him she loved him, that she didn’t agree with the saviors and only followed him out of loyalty for her father. A father she didn’t want to love but couldn’t help it. She looked at her new family and mustered up enough courage to stay strongly,

“Don’t fight them.”

“Alright!” Simon announced from beside her. “Let’s meet the man.” Maria watched as her father stepped out of the RV wearing a sick and sadistic smile. She couldn’t watch as her father gave them his what’s your is mine speech so she just looked off to the side and watched the woods. She only turned her attention back to her families when her father walked up to Maggie and raised Lucille.

“Stop,” she said loudly but as respectful as she could, afraid to anger her father. He turned and looked at her for the first time in a little over two years.

“Not her,” she said more quietly. Stern but submissive enough to not anger her father. He smiled at her. And lowered Lucille. Then he just went about his speech. She didn’t take her eyes off him this time. He stopped in front of Carl, a boy that had become a little brother to her over the last two years, and looked over to her asking if he should be his target. She shocked her head at him. Telling him no. He nodded. He didn’t like being told what to do but he appreciated his daughter's advice sometimes and he knew she knew what to do in order to break these people. She just wished he didn’t. He went around his games and eventually landed on Abraham. When he swung his bat she forced herself to watch. She forced herself to experience the same pin the others were even though she was the one to cause it. After he was dead her father began to taunt Rosita will Lucille. She was about to tell him to stop when Daryl ran at her father and punched him. Maria let out a scream and fell to her knees. She knew what would happen now. Someone else was going to die. Either Daryl or someone else.

“Not cool man, I gave you a free pass the first time but still not fucking cool, I warned you what would happen,” he was about to kill another person when Maria ran to him and grab arm. She turned to her anger in his eyes but she didn’t care at that moment.

“You said only one person would die, only one,” she whispered, begging him to stop.

“It’s not my fault they didn’t listen to you sweetheart,” he told her, like he didn’t want to do it. He shook her off his arm and turned around and brought his bat to Glen's skull. She heard Maggie let out a streak. she just stared at her father killing one of their best friends. Eyes filled with tears, mouth  hung open in a silent scream. After he was done he grabbed Rick by the collar and dragged him to the RV. Before he drove off he turned to the group.

“Now y’all behave for my daughter now alright. I don’t wanna kill any more of you but I will,” he turned to Simon “Maria’s in charge.” He looked at her and smiled. She gave him a small nod and faked a small smile. And with that he was off. Maria turned toward the people she loved, the man she loved but only saw shock and sadness in their eyes that wouldn’t meet hers. One person did look at her though. Daryl. But all he had in his eyes was hate,  not just for Negan but for her.

[negans-wifeyy]

Shake Hands with the Devil pt.1

Summary: Laila was hungry for revenge ever since the death of her sister. The only way to fight the monster who killed her is to confront him in his natural habitat: the Sanctuary. As she infiltrates the kingdom of the leader of the Saviors in the hopes to kill him, things will not go the way she thoroughly planned. What will she do now that Negan has gotten her in the palm of his hand?

Pairing: Negan X OFC

Warning: None for now but eventual smut

Tags: revenge, hate, possession

Word count: 2361

A/N: Hi everyone! This is the first fiction that I ever post anywhere, and I chose Negan as the male protagonist because I’m literally obsessed with his character. I also chose a black protagonist because I couldn’t find ANY good fics pairing Negan with even a person of color on Tumblr, fanfiction.net or even Ao3. Since there wasn’t anything I could identify myself with, I decided to write my own thing. Hope y’all enjoy. PS: English is neither my first or second language so please be patient and correct me if there are mistakes or it’s not coherent. Also, the text in italics is in the past and time-lapse are separated by asterisks.

A/N 2: This is a repost from the @thoughtsandthotsss​ blog. I wanted this fiction and other content to be on a blog focused solely on TWD. So there you have it again and make sure to like and follow again :) 

———–

For the past weeks, I’ve been doing everything possible that was asked of me to do in the Sanctuary. Attending to my duties, keeping my head down, staying away from trouble and most importantly, avoiding the leading man of the Saviors. But here I was now, sitting face to face with him in his “office” and waiting for my faith.

“Well, well, well” Negan started as he stood up from his seat. “Here we are again, Laila. Just you and me. Last time we were here together, you infiltrated my kingdom, killed a dozen of my best soldiers and then, came to this very room with a gun pointed at the back of my head to avenge your sister’s death.”

I avoided his gaze and stayed silenced. Just being in his presence made me sick to my stomach. Unlike everyone around here, I didn’t fear the man with the barbed-wire bat. Whatever reason he called me in here for, good or bad, he could just get to the point, so I didn’t have to converse with him any longer than I wanted to.

“So, you’re just gonna stay quiet? I remember you being pretty chatty the first time we spoke.” He snickered. “Don’t you wanna know why I called you in here?”

“Not really. Whatever sick, twisted mind game you feel like playing today, I don’t think it’s going to require me to respond back to you.” I finally broke my silence.

“Still quick-witted huh? With your track record, I wouldn’t be so mouthy with me. I mean, I did spare your life and let you become one of my hit women. My most reliable one too.” He responded as he got to the seat closer to me.

“I don’t know how grateful I can be after everything that you’ve done” I caught my breath remembering the terror he caused this past year to me and my entourage. “You kept Sasha captive, you used her life to blackmail the Alexandrians and you led her to kill herself. Oh, and let’s not forget you terrorizing and murdering the members of my community. “

“I thought that we buried the hatchet on your sister’s passing sweetheart. And also, on the deaths of your Alexandria buddies.”

“You mean like Glenn and Abraham? They are not my ‘Alexandrian buddies’ they were my family. And no, I still haven’t let that go since I can’t give anyone of them proper justice.” I said angrily to Negan who just stared at me grinning.

“Don’t really remember the two others but I do miss that strong-headed Sasha from time to time” He said which made my blood boil even more. “Could have used her warrior skills here. Good thing you’re here the replace her memory.”

“Leave her name out of her mouth.” I fired at him. His words were really getting to me.

Talking about my big sister again was making me so emotional but I didn’t want Negan to see me vulnerable, so I held back my tears and stare right back into his sneering eyes. I needed to be as fearless and strong as the day I was going to kill him. Even if it was weeks ago and I clearly failed my mission, I still remember that day like it was yesterday.

**

Negan was wandering by himself in his office where he holds up his meeting with some of the Saviors and probably torture some others. I peaked through the crack of the door and as soon as his back was turned, I sneaked in with my AK-47 directing at his head and locked the door shut.

“Don’t you move now motherfucker” I spat at him as he raised both his hands up to surrender. Even in that position, I could still sense the smirk from that bastard.

“Can I at least turn around to see the face of my perpetrator?” Negan eventually said. “I wanna match the face to the sweet voice I’m hearing”

“Empty your pocket first ” I ordered.

“Bossy. Just how I like em” He said as he threw on the floor all his weapons.

“Don’t be smart with me. I’m gonna search you now and I better find nothing” I patted him down to his ankles in all the usual hiding spots and found a pocket knife that I threw with the rest of his armoury.

"I usually don’t need to use this one. Forgot I had it on me. Sorry sweetheart”

“Don’t give a shit. Turn around and stop calling me sweetheart.”

As soon as he saw me, he immediately recognized who I was. And that infamous grin of his slowly faded away.

“Remember me?” I asked, my voice getting angrier from seeing his face so up-close. “The name’s Laila. Not sweetheart or whatever pet name you tryna call me”

“Ok. Laila, it is then. I do remember you; you’re Sasha’s sister. I think it’s pretty obvious now why you’re here.”

“Yes, I am. I’m going to fucking kill you. For Sasha and every single person that I cherished that you killed over your ego power trip. You fucking psychopath. “ I snapped at him. His smirky little face might have gone away but he still was unfazed about whatever I was saying to him.

"Darling, if you want to end me for some sort of revenge, you’re gonna have to take a number” He said back mischievously.

“Don’t call me darling either!” I barked at him as I charged my rifle at him.

“Wooah woah Laila!” Negan shouted finally shaking in his boots "Even though I know you’re very much capable of doing it, you don’t really wanna kill me”

“What makes you think that? I want your head on a stick more than anything”

“Well, with the massacre that you already caused downstairs, adding me to the list would make you an even more disgusting person that I am”

“You and I are not the fucking same. You knew about the damage I literally just did to your people inside the Sanctuary and chose to stay in your own little space, turning a blind eye. How can call yourself a leader after that?” I said to him even more furious than ever.

“Maybe it was all part of my plan” Negan confidently said with a malicious smile.

“What pla—” I didn’t have time to finish when a sharp object hit the back of my head.

As I fell on the floor, the two last things I saw in between two blinks were Dwight behind me with a gun in his hand and a walkie under the table that was open during this entire encounter. After that, everything was blank.

I woke up possibly hours later tied up to a chair in a small dark room. The daylight coming from the small window brightened the room which meant that I was unconscious all night. In the corner to my right, Simon was standing there waiting for me to wake up. I immediately started squirming and moaning in pain when I saw him calling Negan with a radio. I tried to scream for help but the clothe wrapped around my mouth prevented me from it. It wouldn’t have amounted to anything anyway since Negan’s tall figure entered the room as I was struggling to loosen my restraints.

“Morning sunshine!” Negan exclaimed as he approached me doing his signature “leaning back” jig with Lucille tightly gripped in his hand. “As much as I love the sound of your voice with your mouth gagged right now, I’m really curious to know what you’ve got to say for yourself after the shitstorm you caused yesterday.”

He gestured to Simon to leave us alone and took off the cloth to let me speak.

“Fuck you, you prick.” I said to him without even a flinch. He could bound me all he wants but he wasn’t going to take my dignity, and I could see that it was getting him mad. Negan took his precious bat to lift it up underneath my chin.

“It’s not a habit of mine to put my hands on a woman but if you keep disrespecting me like that, I’ll make an exception. Got it? “He threatened me with the most dominating expression I’ve ever seen. Knowing what he could do, I just nodded.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen. I’ve seen some of your work on the guards that you executed on your way to kill me and I gotta say, I’m very impressed. I don’t usually do this type of thing with perpetrators who try to gun me down but for you sweetie, I’ll bend the rules. From now on, I want you to be a part of this community as one of my hitmen or should I say hit-woman.”

“So, you want me to kill other people for you, even though I tried to kill you? Thanks, but no thanks ”

“Well, I don’t think you really have a choice sweetheart. It’s either you work for me or I feed you to the walkers that we keep in a cage at the back of the Sanctuary”

As he said that, he pushed Lucille harder into my chin. I definitely felt more threatened and trapped. With my hands tied, both physically and figuratively, I had to accept his offer. 

“Fine. I’ll do it”. I finally said feeling like I fell right into the trap of the big bad wolf.

“Good. Here are the conditions: You’re going to work solely into protecting the Saviours which means no going behind my back to help the Alexandrians or to try to kill me again. If you don’t respect this, I won’t be afraid to use my Lucille here. Are we clear?”

“Yes..“ I surrounded. As soon as I did, he let go of Lucille off my chin.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Negan said a leaned closer to me and put his hands on the handles of my chair. “Whatever pet name I feel like calling you, you’re gonna have to accept it. It’s my kingdom after all and if you’re gonna be part of it, you’ll live by my own rules. Got it, sweetheart?”

I just nodded back and at that point, I didn’t know if I was more disgusted by his cruel behaviour or by myself for being a sellout.

**

And just like that, I became one of Negan’s executioner. Although, from my perspective, I became one of the killing monsters who did Negan’s dirty job for him. Any enemy, walker or human, who is a menace to the Sanctuary gets a bullet right in the skull from me whether I like it or not.

The first week was the hardest. I was so miserable being stuck in this place. It wasn’t because I failed my initial mission or even because I was away from my group with no news from them. It was just the daily apprehension of possibly having to gun down Alexandrians who could try to sneak into the Sanctuary like I did. With me going missing and Rick’s thirst for vengeance as strong as mine, it was very likely to happen. Fortunately, another Saviour told me that the day after my infiltration, Negan paid a visit to Rick and the members of Alexandria to tell them that I was now part of the Sanctuary. He also warned them that if any of them tried to come to my rescue, they would risk their life and mine.

It might not have come from the heart, but I still feel like that threat was a gesture from Negan to ease their minds and mine. So that I could accommodate myself better to the situation, I guess. And after that, I didn’t hear from Negan until today.

**

“Alright now, I won’t speak of her again, especially since she’s not the reason I wanted to meet you today.” Negan said after our back and forth about Sasha. I didn’t understand why he would talk about her knowing how it would make me feel. God, what an asshole he could be.

“What is it then?” I asked him indifferent about whatever he was going to respond.

“Usually, when I meet Saviours in this very room, it’s generally to punish them after they did something wrong, to betray me perhaps.” He said with a deadpan look in his face. At first, I didn’t care about the reason he wanted to meet me but, with those stern eyes staring right back at me, I couldn’t help but gulp. As soon as he saw me sweat a bit, Negan chuckled lightly to himself. “Don’t worry honey, it’s not your case, you can relax”

This motherfucker. He couldn’t help himself but to toy with me a little for his own sadistic pleasure I can only assume.

“You have nothing to worry about precious. Your situation is quite the opposite actually. All I’ve been hearing from everyone around here is how great you’ve been doing. And honestly, their opinions don’t really matter since I’ve been keeping an eye on you daily” Negan surprisingly said.

“Like spying on me?” I asked quite unsettled.

“Not spying on, just keeping an eye like I said.” He corrected. “It’s not like you’ve been doing anything shady babe. I observed you from afar and all I saw was a great warrior protecting her community.”

“You mean forced into protecting it? The Sanctuary is not my community.” I told him very truthfully.

“Whether it was intentional or not, I saw how well you fought and I wanted you to know how pleased I am to see that. Which brings me directly to the point of this meeting”

“I thought we were never gonna get there. Why did you call me here?”

"Hush sweetheart. I’ll tell you eventually, but I need you to keep an open mind”

“Ok..”

“I wanted to promote into a position that will give you the best accommodations you can get in the Sanctuary while still being my main hit-woman”

“What position is that?

“I want you to become one of my wives”

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 29

My first impression of the Sanctuary was that it looked a hell of a lot like the prison. There were walkers being utilized as added security around the perimeter. Interesting idea, I thought, and wondering if eventually that would be my purpose.

As we entered the gates, flashes of my life before, at the prison threatened to overwhelm me. Lori’s death. Blood. Judith’s birth. Blood. Dad’s descent into madness. Blood. Daryl’s pain when Merle was gone. Blood. The Governor’s last stand. Blood. Every memory that came to me was tinged in the surreal redness of the blood that was spilled. And my eyes were drawn to Negan’s bat. Still coated in Abraham’s blood and brain matter. I realized that I was wrong. There were two certainties in our world. Death and blood.

I paid little attention to the people around us, but when I refocused, fighting back against the tide of memories I noticed that along the path Negan was leading me was lined by kneeling people. Fear radiated off these people, but also awe. They were in awe of him.

I followed him. Not too closely, but close enough so I could keep up without jogging. He was whistling as he walked. As though this happened everyday. Him returning with that bat coated in gore, a stranger in tow, and not a care in the world.

Inside the utilitarian building, he kept moving. Forward momentum, full steam ahead. Purposeful. And still, as he walked, people kneeled. As naturally as I drew breath in my lungs, as unthinking as I’d been walking through life, they fell to their knees and stayed there until he was out of view.

Soon we were in a nicely decorated room filled with attractive women in short black dresses. I had walked behind him, back straight, chin up, and I didn’t drop my posture when I followed him into what I could only believe was his harem. They greeted him. They fawned over him. And they paid me no attention, as though my being there was normal. Or as though I was invisible. Their conversation was an annoying buzz in my head, nothing more.

I didn’t care what they were saying, or offering to my new keeper. I was still fighting the rush of pain that had surfaced with the similarities of this place to another. And when that door was opened, so where the other ones. More loss. More pain. More blood. It was almost overwhelming. And yet, noticing that no one seemed to see anything amiss with me, I had to think that my mask had returned. That no one could see the pain that memories were dealing me. Worse than the losses, the flashes of the happiness I’d once had. The hope that I’d held so deeply. The love I’d shared with Daryl.

“Ladies,” his voice, so commanding and deep, drew me away from my inner turmoil. “This,” I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Is Jessica. Jessica, I’d like you to meet my wives.”

Harem. I kept my eyes forward, waiting for him to decide what came next for me. I wasn’t planning on befriending these women. I’d seen, when I’d allowed myself to focus on them, that I bore no resemblance to them. We shared nothing but our gender.

One wife stepped forward. Her movement, coming closer, reminded me of my past. My ability to read people, once upon a time, and decide if danger was in front of me. She didn’t look formidable. Or dangerous. But hadn’t we all learned that monsters often had the faces of angels?

“Jessica,” her voice was quiet and she was looking at me like someone might study a caged or trapped animal, deciding on my danger. “I’m Sherry.”

My eyes were on hers, and I gave a curt nod. And? I wanted to know. You’re Sherry. I’m Jessica. What did it matter?

Negan was waiting. What he was waiting for I had no clue. Did he imagine me feral? Did he expect me to lash out? Did he want me to?

“Come,” he said, finally breaking the silence that had once again fallen around me. “Jessica,” he offered, believing that I hadn’t understood he meant me. “Come with me, sweetheart.” There was another term of endearment. He’d done it a few times now, but this time I heard it. Really heard it.

I followed him. Another room. Still nice, even lavish decor. And a huge bed. I huffed out a breath. A bedroom? My eyes landing on the subtle touches that told me whose. A pair of leather gloves on the table between chairs. The hint of a t-shirt hanging loose out of the chest of drawers. Negan’s room, obviously.

He took the seat facing the door and pointed at the one facing his. I sat down. My eyes locked on his. The bat was leaning against his chair. “Now we’re face to face, and on the same level.” He took in my small stature. “Well, almost.”

I settled in for more conversation. Is it conversation? If a man who you don’t know asks if you’re suicidal, is that really chit chat?

“There’s something about you, Jessica Grimes.” He was studying me again. Full on. No need for side-eye now. His eyes locked on mine, and I waited. “What broke you?”

And there it was. A complete stranger removed my mask. “Who says I’m broken?” If I wouldn’t tell Dad, why would I tell you?

“Your eyes.” He wasn’t digging. He was sure. “Your body and your posture, even your words. They make a good show. But your eyes? It’s clear as a fucking bell.”

I didn’t answer. What was the question? Why would I deny it? Or confirm it? What’s the point?

“How long?” And once again, I knew that he wasn’t asking something as simple as the words implied. How long have I been like this? How long since I started going through the motions, a puppet in life, pretending that surviving was living? How long had it been since I’d felt something as strongly as what I felt that led me to that clearing? To him?

“I’m not sure.” And I wasn’t. It had been subtle. I’d kept it at bay. I’d fought it. And yet, one day there it was.

He nodded. He seemed to understand, which made as much sense as him caring did. “You need rest.” It wasn’t an order, it was a comment. “Rest, a check up with my doctor, and food.” His eyes roamed over my body, and I wondered why he’d think I’d need food. “Come here.”

He stood up and offered me his hand. Taking it, with more confusion than I’d allowed to show since I’d walked out into the open, he helped me to my feet. I guess that my shirt had raised, and he saw that I was armed. Knife and gun, they were pretty much my only wardrobe accessories.

“You’ve been armed this entire time and didn’t try to fucking kill me?” He asked, pulling them both from their usual places. I felt more naked without them, than I ever had without my clothes. “Why?”

Whatever he’d planned for that had made him help me to my feet, it was postponed. Why hadn’t I attacked him? Why hadn’t I tried to use my weapons to free my family? Why, when alone and on the road with him, hadn’t I fought him? Blindsided him and taken him down?

“I don’t know.” And I didn’t. There was a time, long long ago, that Jessica Grimes wouldn’t have hesitated. She would have drawn the gun and killed him stone cold dead. I thought I knew that Jessica. I guess she really was gone now.

He looked unnerved. A look that I imagined I’d shown when I saw Lizzie holding Judith’s mouth shut with her hands, as my baby sister started to turn blue. Fear. That’s what I saw on his face. Fear. But was he afraid of me, or for me?

[little-wicked10]

Purely Precious

Pairing: Negan x Unnamed OFC

Warning: Swearing, eventual smut

Summary: How could something so beautiful, so precious, have been created from a man who lusted for blood? How could fate be so cruel as to make her have his distinct dark hair and his dimples?

Leaving the Sanctuary was one of the hardest decisions she had to make, but after staring at the positive pregnancy test, she had to. The Sanctuary was no place to raise a child, especially in Negan’s world; a world full of violence, blood, and other wives. The only place she knew that could take care of her and her unborn child with the necessary supplies was Alexandria, Negan’s favorite place to torment. Even though Rick hated Negan, he didn’t turn her away. He could see the fear in her eyes, the fear of becoming a mother and bringing a baby into the apocalypse. The leader of Alexandria gave her a place to stay with as many supplies as she needed. When Negan and his Saviors came knocking, she’d hide away in a locked basement. The week Negan came after her disappearance nearly got everyone killed, but no one told him where she was or even acknowledged they knew who she was.  

She loved Negan, but he wasn’t fit to raise a child. His world wasn’t a place to raise a child. She wouldn’t force him to change his ways for the sake of a mistake. She didn’t know if she could even convince him to change.  

After many months, she gave birth to a little girl. The little infant came out fighting and covered in blood, like her father. Holding her daughter close to her chest, all bloody, barely cleaned off, and showcasing a large set of lungs, she couldn’t believe how something so pure and innocent could be created in a world of chaos. “What will you name her?” Rick asked her once the eventful night came to an end.

“Georgia.”

—•—

The thundering engine of approaching supply trucks startled her as she lay Georgia down in her crib. Quickly stepping to the window, her worst fear was outside.

Negan and his Saviors. 

Negan was arguing with Rick, who was doing everything in his power to keep Negan from searching through the houses. Knowing Rick couldn’t keep him occupied for long, she quickly shut the shades in Georgia’s room and made her way downstairs to lock the front door. She needed to move fast to get herself and her child down to the safety of the basement. Negan’s booming voice barked orders and threatened the lives of all who lived in Alexandria if Rick didn’t step down. The blood rushing in her ears didn’t allow her to hear how close Negan actually was to her front door. 

The front door was suddenly kicked down right in front of her, and in the doorway was the devil himself with his favorite lady on his shoulder. Frozen with fear, she couldn’t move as Negan’s eyes went wide at seeing her. Her name fell breathlessly from his lips as his grip on Lucille loosened so much at his surprise that he nearly dropped his beloved bat. “Well this is a FUCKING SURPRISE!!!” Negan called, “You been hiding her this whole time, you sorry shit! 

“N-Negan,” her voice stuttered. 

“Oh this better be good,” he laughed evilly, strutting into the house, “I wrote you off as dead, and what do I find? Rick the prick has been hiding you all along!”

“I-it’s not his fault. I left on my own.”

“And uh who helped you with that, sweetheart? Last I checked my Sanctuary is always on lockdown,” Negan grit his teeth, thinking of the ways he was going to kill the motherfucker who let her go. 

“I figured it out myself.”

That answer didn’t satisfy him. Negan quickly swung Lucille, smashing a lamp then the glass table it was sitting on, “DONT LIE TO ME!” Everything was still and quiet. She couldn’t look him in the eye as he stood there breathing heavy like a wild beast. A cry pierced the sudden tension. Her heart stopped as Negan’s eyes went wide with confusion at the sound. Risking it, she ran. Bolting up the stairs, she heard Negan’s heavy boots rush after her. Before she could reach the room, Negan suddenly had her pinned against the wall, “We weren’t done talkin’, darlin’.” She tried to fight against him, desperate to answer the child’s cries. 

“Who’s in there?” Negan demanded. 

“Please Negan,” she pleaded. 

He slammed his hand into the wall next to her head, “TELL ME!” She cried out with fear. Seeing he was not going to get an answer, he threw himself away from the wall and barged into the room. “NO!” she cried after him. The screaming baby lay in the crib, upset by the commotion. Negan’s tense form stood over the crib. She stared at him in fear, but didn’t dare come near him, “Please, Negan. Let me take care of my baby.” He suddenly straightened up at her words and gripped Lucille tighter, “Whose is it?” It. Such a cruel word to call the most beloved being in the world to her. Tears rolled down her cheeks, she didn’t want to tell him. He said her name in a demanding tone before asking again, “Who’s the father?” No reply. Negan suddenly set Lucille down, no longer able to handle the child’s crying. 

Her heart stopped as she watched him reach into the crib and hold Georgia in his arms. His leather jacket slightly squeaked as he wrapped the screaming infant in his arms and began to rock her. His low, soothing voice began to hum and whisper, “Hey, lil darlin’, don’t cry. I’m sorry I scared ya.” His gloved hand came up and gently stroked the dark hair on her little head. The way his entire demeanor changed was shocking. Nearly five seconds ago, Negan was ready to bash somebody’s head in, and it scared the living shit out of her. Now, the tension had disappeared and replaced with a calm atmosphere. She sniffled trying to calm her nerves. Georgia slowly quieted in Negan’s arms, “It’s alright, babygirl. Ol’ Negan won’t hurt-cha.” A sweet smile graced his lips as he helped the little girl calm down. Georgia’s cry turned into a light whimper until she lay peacefully in the man’s arms. Negan hummed with delight as he continued to rock her, “Oooh you are a precious little angel, aren’t-cha?” A chuckled rumbled in his chest as Georgia attempted a small smile from the rocking and humming she was receiving. The dimples in her cheeks suddenly looked familiar to him. 

The smile on his lips faded and was replaced with focused curiosity as he studied the infant. His gloved finger traced the light curl in Georgia’s dark hair. He noticed the close resemblance in their skin tones even though this infant couldn’t be more than a month old, and his skin had been darkened by the many months, if not years, of being in the sun. He saw the child was attempting to open her eyes, but a stream of light from between the blinds was keeping her from doing so. Negan turned his back to the window, and once in the shade, the infant opened her eyes. Two sets of identical eyes stared at one another, reflecting the truth to one another. Negan felt his heart stop as the realization hit him. She saw it too. He knew now. “She’s...mine?” the question hung in the air. “Yes,” she managed to answer. 

Negan looked up above the crib and saw the pink letters that spelled out Georgia that was a present from Rick. “Georgia? That’s her name?” Negan asked. She nodded and gently walked towards him. Both parents looked down at their daughter. “She’s beautiful. She looks like you,” Negan smiled. “She has your eyes...and your dimples,” she added making Negan chuckle a bit. A silence filled the room, but she could tell he had so many questions. 

“I left because I found out I was pregnant.”

Negan looked at her confused, “I don’t understand.”

“The Sanctuary is no place to raise a child, and your world has no room for a weakness like this. I knew I couldn’t force you to change in order to protect her.”

“Baby, I would have for this,” he admitted, glancing down at Georgia who was mouthing over Negan’s leather finger. 

“I can’t ask you to do that. You aren’t the white picket fence type, Negan. You have five wives for fuck’s sake.”

Negan didn’t respond. They suddenly noticed how Georgia began to suckle the air and become fussy after Negan’s finger didn’t satisfy her. “I think she’s hungry,” Negan said slowly handing her to her mother. Neither said a word as she sat down and began to breast feed. Negan watched intensely. He didn’t make a dirty joke or crude comment like he usually would but simply watched in fascination and thought. “She’s so beautiful,” Negan murmured in bewilderment, running his hand over the scruff around his mouth. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he was able to make something so beautiful and tiny. He only ever thought he was capable of creating chaos. “She came out fighting and covered in a little blood,” she whispered. Negan chuckled again, “She is mine.”

Negan has so many questions as he watched her breastfeed. “Was it hard? Giving birth?” he asked hesitantly, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. She met his gaze, “It wasn’t easy.”

“Were you in a lot of pain?” Negan looked at Georgia then her once again. 

“Yeah, but it was worth it,” she smiled sweetly at her daughter. 

“Fuck. And I did that to you?” Negan asked surprised.

She giggled, “That’s how it works, Negan. Sex has a purpose besides just feeling good.”

They sat in silence again as she continued to feed their daughter. Once Georgia had finished, she gently placed the baby on her shoulder and burped her. Negan chuckled at the tiny burps that his daughter made. He watched intensely as she lay Georgia to bed and stood next to her over the crib. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it was supposed to be. If this was how it was meant to be. Grant it, it wasn’t an ideal situation, but Negan felt like it was right. “Come back. Please,” he nearly begged. She looked up at him with surprise in her eyes. She felt the longing pull at her heart when he said those words. “I’ll drop the wives, I’ll let the saviors do most of the supply runs alone. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it,” he pleaded. 

“Negan...”

“Baby, when you left I was a mess. I couldn’t do anything without thinking of you. I haven’t touched another woman since you left. The thought of you being dead killed me inside, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I can’t lose you...or her. Please, baby, come back with me. Both of you,” he confessed. 

“I don’t know.”

Suddenly Negan got down on one knee, taking her hands in his, “Once the world ended, I didn’t think I was capable of caring again until I met you. Now I have two ladies in my life that mean more to me than.... bashing brains in and scaring the shit out of motherfuckers,” she laughed at him, “I ain’t gonna lose you again, and I’m not about to lose her.”

She bit her lip glancing over at Georgia. She knew if he put his mind to it, Negan could be a good father. He was a good husband for sure. She just didn’t want to corrupt something so pure. The only thing in her world that she loved more than herself and even Negan. She didn’t want to lose Georgia because of this shitty world, but it would be wrong of her to deny Negan the chance to be a father and deny Georgia the chance to have a father. “I’m asking you to be my wife.... again. But my only wife this time,” he added with a playful smirk, “Let’s be a family, baby.” She looked at him and his dazzling smile. The genuine look in his eyes meant he was serious. She could see this is what he wanted. The look in his eyes told her he had already fallen madly in love with their daughter....and her. She smiled, tears welling up in her eyes, “I’ve missed you so much.” Negan stood up quickly, wrapped her up in his arms, and kissed her with so much passion that it nearly took her breath away. He could feel her tears on her cheeks wet his own, and he planned to kiss away all that pain and fear. 

“You should have told me, darlin’. Could have saved a bunch of trouble,” Negan panted. 

“I was scared.”

“I know, baby. You don’t have to be anymore,” he assured. 

He kissed her again, letting his scruff tickle and scratch her face. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck. She missed this. She missed him. Yes, he was terrible and rotten and a down right villain, but that was only when he had to be. In that moment, Negan decided to the outside world he would be the cruel King of the Saviors, but once he came back he’d be a loving husband and father. He would protect and provide for his those who were purely precious to him. 

[to-pick-ourselves-up-7]

The Marks of Running Ink pt.81

The Walking Dead [Soulmate AU]

Pairing: Negan x Tory Miller (ofc)

Summary: History had never been wrong about the lengths human beings would go for survival, for pride, for love… Tory Miller never thought she would see it unfold with her own eyes, not after the end of an era, but she could understand. Now, their war was being fought in all fronts. Negan’s was for pride, Rick’s was for survival, both of them were unstoppable forces. And her war? Tory’s war was for love.  

Warnings: SLOW BURN, angst, swearing, death, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, child endangerment, general trauma, drama, mentions of infidelity and polygamy, general lack or morals, mentions of nudity, graphic sexual scenes (nsfw), mentions of blood, apocalyptic world. As always, I don’t want to give the story away in the tags, read at your own risk.

Author’s note: I know I’ve been absent for a while, because life got super hard and shit just keeps happening. Anyway, I’m not abandoning this story, ever. We’re super close to the end, I can almost see it. If you’re still around, thank you, if you are new, thank you. Let’s get this chapter!

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

The Sanctuary, VA

A week and two days

Negan had been enraged to discover Gabriel was back without Dr. Carson.

One of his men apologized for the incident, he’d shot the fucking doctor when the man had jumped him, trying to escape again.

His first instinct had been to hide the information from his soulmate, she’d find out eventually, as Gabriel was back in the infirmary to get whatever attention he needed, but Negan had already planned the ‘punishment’ for the creepy, nosy priest.

The leader of the Saviors had the suspicion that maybe…just maybe, Eugene had something to do with the escape, but he also had a need from Eugene. His talent and brains were behind the whole bullet making business that Negan had in mind.

He’d pondered what to do, over and over again.

So here he was, in the dark, thinking how to proceed. He needed Eugene’s talent and Tory was in charge of his infirmary for the time being, as much as she called herself a lousy nurse, the decision as practically made for him, but it didn’t meant Negan liked it much.

“I’m disappointed Eugene, this crap was supposed to be behind us, two flushes and out the pipe.” He growled. “My doctor and that creepy ass priest jumped ship without anybody knowing about it,” Negan recalled, trying to ease his tone. “Now we have no doctor and we gained ourselves another sick soul to cure, Carson was never one of us, he was a weasel, like his weasel brother,” with a light sigh, Negan smirked. “I’m gonna get the truth out of Gaby’s ass if need be…one way or another, yes I will,” He noticed the little gulp Eugene took before speaking, though he didn’t flinch, doctor smarty pants did have a back bone, then?

“And Alexandria? What went down there?” Eugene asked with a slight waver in his voice. Negan closed his eyes for a few seconds, suppressing a groan, almost biting his tongue for it.

“Do you care?” he asked coldly, channeling his murderous persona made it all easier. Eugene looked into his eyes in silence, holding Negan’s gaze as he leaned into the table, his fingers entwined so he didn’t grab Lucille. “Do., You., Care., Eugene?” with a sneer, Negan bit out his words. “After they tried to blow you out of the face of this earth?”

Without moving, Eugene backed down. “Your message is stamped in received, and very much appreciated,”

Smiling, Negan breathed in.

“Oh well, good! You see, I got some news for you, Eugene. You, are gonna be in charge of your very own outpost,” the mulleted coward said nothing. “You see, I need my bullet maker, making bullets. Cutting a path through the dead took a toll on our reserves, so you get the honor of providing me with the bang-bang to settle this whole thing with Rick, for good,”

Eugene nodded. “All about people being resources and whatnot?”

An involuntary chuckle left Negan.

“Bullets are a last resort, Lucille here gets first dibs,” feeling calmer, Negan leaned back on his chair. “If Rick and his merry band of pricks decide to pull some shit, we gotta pull somethin’ right back that we rather not… That’ll be on them. Not you, not me,”

It took a great effort on Negan’s part, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that reminded him of what Tory had told him, that their goals were blurred after so much blood and dead and shit. The leader of the Saviors went on, telling Eugene where he was going to set him up, with whom; Negan had no need for Frankie or Tanya anymore.

And Eugene only asked for wine.

Perfect.

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

After a sleepless night of ignoring the sting of hurt in her chest, Tory had decided to go to the infirmary anyway, as Harlan hadn’t given any signs of existence, not that she was expecting him to. He was supposed to be at Hilltop, as Eugene had planned.

Seeing Gabriel in the infirmary was a bit of a shock, and the flood of emotions threatened for a few seconds. Gabriel was from home, he knew Carl…

Damn it all.

Unflinching, the young woman went on her way, and started checking the priest’s health, he seemed better and his fever had broken at some point of his failed escape, he was saying something about some pills and Harlan saying he’d be saved.

“Can you see that?” Tory asked, moving the light as Harlan had taught her. Gabriel shook his head no, making the grey-eyed girl take note and sigh.

“You mentioned you took some antibiotics; do you remember what they were?”

Gabriel shook his head again.

“Harlan didn’t mention the chemicals,” the father hesitated, making Tory stop as she looked in the medicine cabinet.

“Harlan’s back? Is he in the cells?” she asked hopefully.

“No one’s told you?” Gabriel asked, his voice so little that Tory had to turn around to actually listen.

“What happened?”

“When they found us…the doctor tried to escape and-,” Tory put her hand up to stop Gabriel, feeling her eyes fill with tears, of course he couldn’t see her gesture. “he was shot by one of them-”

“I get it, Gabe, don’t… I don’t need to know more,”

“You do need to know, Victoria. We found a place, it was full of meds,” the father argued, catching her attention.

“Where is this place?” Tory asked, as imperiously as she could with her voice being swallowed by tears.

“We were on our way to the Hilltop…”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

A week and a day

It was late in the afternoon and Tory was feeling tired already.

She’d stayed the night in the infirmary with Gabriel after he’d broken down over Carson’s death, having a breakdown of her own. Her mind had fleeting thoughts about Dr. Rhodes, but she would never hurt Doveport like that, or the poor doctor. And she suspected Charlotte would never forgive her that.

Tory was unable to lie to herself, however. She stayed in the infirmary so she wouldn’t have to stay with Negan and tell him why her eyes were red rimmed and puffy, but she’d sent a message to him with Vera, that she had to monitor Gabriel and might not make it to bed. Her friend hadn’t asked for reasons, preferring the safe space of plausible deniability. Tory could definitely sympathize with that.

Whatever Negan was plotting, it had kept him away from the infirmary for the time being, and as such, it kept him away from Gabriel and Tory.

“Have you told him?” Gabriel asked, his gaze unfocused, probably unseeing, Tory wasn’t sure, but the lack of response from Gabriel’s eyes wasn’t going away.

“Who? About what?”

“Negan, about your child,” God’s man on earth indeed, seeing good in people who were not exactly good.

“No, I haven’t. It’s not…I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Tory sighed and combed her hair with her fingers to tie it in a ponytail.

“He should know. Every man should know about his child,” Gabriel continued softly, closing his eyes. “I would do something good for Negan. Knowing he’ll be a…father,”

Tory giggled at Gabriel’s sour expression.

“You sound as sure of yourself as I’m sure I don’t want him to know,” Tory sighed. “I-

The door was suddenly slammed open and Negan swaggered inside, followed by Lucas and Gary.

“Gabriel, Gabe, Gaby!” Tory flinched a Negan’s booming voice, it made her brain thump uncomfortably. “Are you ready to go into some new…accommodations?”

“What?” the word burst out of her mouth before Tory could stop it. “S-sorry, he can’t leave, Negan,”

Negan’s flat expression made her shudder when he turned to look at her.

“And why is that, wife?” he drawled, stalking up to her.

“His infection hasn’t healed, his eyes are unresponsive to stimulus, I’m worried he’ll go blind,” Tory said everything without stuttering, making herself proud, even under Negan’s narrowing gaze.

“His hands work?” her husband asked.

“Uhm…yeah, he can use them, but-”

“So, he can go help somewhere, we need the beds here free,”

“But…-” Negan lifted his gloved hand, silencing Tory immediately.

“You’ll do as you’re told, Gary, Lucas, help me take my cargo away.”

Asshole.

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Eugene seemed to like the idea of working with Gabriel as much as Negan anticipated he would. He didn’t care.

What caught his attention was the part where Eugene wasn’t going to be able to keep up with The Sanctuary’s demand of ammunition.

“See, Eugene…that’s simply not gonna work for me,” he growled, uncaring of who witnessed his loss of control.

Eugene swallowed hard.

“I think a more biblical approach for maximum fright might be in order,” the questioning tint of his words disappeared as Negan relaxed his hold on Lucille. “We could rig several medieval-style catapults, start launching arms, torsos, legs and, you know, big piles of guts over their defenses,”

Negan smiled.

“Pure psycho-ops, I mean there are some pretty traumatic theatrics there,”

“Thank you,” Negan said softly, feeling the tingling of a very good idea in the back of his head, not exactly what Eugene suggested, but…enough. “I do believe a rose just sprung from that pile of shit.”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

A week.

Tory was still seething when Negan came back the night before, but instead of giving him the cold shoulder, she sank on his bed to wait for him.

She failed to wait up, still in her dress, feeling grimy despite the long shower she’d taken in the middle of the day. Her hormones were wreaking havoc within her body, and Tory wondered why, she didn’t remember these many symptoms from her previous pregnancy…then again, she had been pretty numb to everything during that time, and most of the people who’d known her back then were dead or Negan’s enemies.

For a few seconds, Tory wished that even Deanna could guide her, not to think about her dad, who knew her so…much.

Her dad.

Sure, Tory considered Tom her dad, but she did still have a father, a father who’d seen Tory’s mother through her pregnancy. Groggily, the brunette got out of the bed and into her shoes, leaving the room in haste, caring only not to wake Lucas, who was guarding outside her door.

She wasn’t sure, but Tory made her way into Roy Miller’s room so fast it almost gave her whiplash. With a couple of fast, tight knocks, the young woman waited for her father to open the door.

“Do you have any idea what-” Roy growled until he saw her arch a brow. “Did something happen?”

“I need to talk to you, Roy,” Tory demanded coldly, feeling her hopes deflate a bit.

“Oh, now you want to talk, young lady? Trying to get a fix?” Roy asked sarcastically.

Feeling her temper rise, Tory pushed her biological father back into his room and closed the door behind herself, making sure to lock it as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“First of all, fuck you for thinking I can’t manage my addiction,” he was right, but she wasn’t going to tell him. “Second, I want you to tell me something about Mom,”

Hurt flashed in Roy’s eyes at that and Tory might have felt a bit of guilt, but it was quickly stomped on.

“What is it?” he asked gruffly.

“How hard was it for mom, when…when she was pregnant with me?” the sudden shyness of her voice bothered her, but at least she had gotten the question out.

Roy sat heavily on his cot and passed a hand through his short hair in a familiar gesture that Tory ignored consciously.

“Erin…Well, she had a hard time during the first trimester, a bit into the second… why do you want to know now? It was…It was almost twenty-five years ago, Victoria,” Roy blinked blearily at her, as if he couldn’t believe how fast time had gone by.

Tory looked at the tips of her shoes before going to sit beside her father, taking his hand in hers and placing it over the hard but almost unnoticeable bump in her lower abdomen, his dark eyes widened when he caught her meaning, but Tory still said it out loud.

“I’m gonna be a mom.”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

[spnfanficpond]

Summary:  Party animal, Y/N’s life is spiralling out of control until she discovers celebrity, Jensen Ackles, is her real father. Moving to Austin, she decides to turn her life around, but Jensen isn’t the only man she learns to love

Characters: You, Jensen Ackles, Christina Ackles (OFC), Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins, OMCs, OFCs

Pairings: Reader x Other, (Eventual) Jared x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Smut, Angst, Fluff)

Word Count: This is an ongoing series. There are 25 chapters in total :)

Tags: dad!Jensen, long lost father, angst, fluff, slow burn romance, teasing, slow burn smut, mentions of crappy childhood, inappropriate relationship, age gap (reader is 18 Jared is 33), drug use, mentions of fertility issues, marriage problems  A/Ns: For the sake of this story, this is set 4/5 years ago, Jared is single and Jensen is married to an OFC (Christina). This is a RPF but the only thing real about it are the people, nothing else! This is posted every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday <3

[you-a-southpaw-doll]

Lovin' Him Masterlist

Story Title: Lovin’ Him - A Negan!AU Story

Story Summary: When high school student Leigh Sullivan feels like the world is against her, and she’s prepared to end it all, there’s only one other person in the world who could save her from herself. Her best friend, neighbor, love of her life, current United States Marine, and even bus driver, Negan Morgan. But what if even his love isn’t enough? Will Negan be the one to save Leigh, or will it be too late? If it is not, what will come of Leigh and Negan? Will they stay best friends and maybe become more? Or, will the strain of Negan trying to save Leigh become too much for their long-lasting friendship, and it’ll all come tumbling down?

Warning(s): Explicit language. Caring Negan. Loving Negan. Slight angst. Fluff - LOTS of Fluff.  Somewhat of a slow burn? Eventual relationship. Hella teasing. Negan’s very sneaky and naughty in a good way. Teacher x student relationship – The reader is of legal age, and Negan’s a bus driver. NO Zombie Apocalypse. (More will be added as the story continues with individual chapters.)

Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

Characters: Negan. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). (More characters will be added as the story continues.)

Taglist: @negans-network @thamberlina @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band–psycho @ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl

Chapters:

Chapter 1: Last Day Before Christmas Vacation

Chapter 2: That Afternoon

Chapter 3: That Evening

Chapter 4:

[metalzombiemiss]

Secret--Chapter 5

Characters: Negan x OFC (Lily) Warnings: Just language and sexual advances.  Mostly more fluff. NSFW Lily continues to fight her attraction to Negan, especially after he sees him wet after a shower...

Chapter 5

           “How long have you been fucking coming to see me?” Negan looked up at Lily as she trimmed his beard.  “About a month.  Hold the towel up,” she responded, with focus.  “Sorry,” he moved it up higher to catch the hairs, “Just a month?  Feels like a hell of a lot longer.”  “Well we’ve gotten a lot accomplished.  You’ve shown a lot of progress and you’ve really opened up to me. Well, about most things.  I wish you’d talk to me about Lucille.”  “I will.  Eventually. I just…” he began.  “Guilt?” she questioned.  “Yeah.  Guilt.”

“Well, when you’re ready…” her voice lowered.  He nodded, “Yeah.  I know.” He looked up at her and their eyes locked.  She cleared her throat, “Almost done. Let me just comb it out and we’ll be finished. Do you want me to get someone to come cut your hair?” “That would be great. You think Rick would let me get an actual fucking shower?” he wondered.

“I’ll ask him. He’s coming by today to get an update on your progress. We’ll see if I can convince him,” she winked. He smiled, “Thanks, Lily. I appreciate it.” “No problem,” she took the towel from him and carefully folded it to keep the hair inside, “Wait. Were you just polite? And did you just call me by my name?”

He laughed, “I fucking guess I fucking did. Should I not use your name?” “No! I like it! Please keep using it!” she insisted. “Okay then, Lily,” he replied. She grinned and said, “Look at you. Pretending to be a regular person!”

“Does it make you fucking wet?” he winked. “And there’s Negan. Ruined it,” she sighed. “I’m sorry! It was a joke!” “Uh huh…” “Okay…half-joke. Not a good one,” he whimpered. “She’s your doctor. Show some respect,” Rick exclaimed, coming down the stairs slowly. “I said sorry,” Negan slumped in his seat. “It’s fine, Rick. He’s harmless. How are you?” Lily walked over to meet him at the cell door.

“Great. And how’s our prisoner?” he replied. “Freshly fucking trimmed, hoping for a god damn haircut and a shower,” Negan stood up, pride in his voice. “We can arrange the haircut. The shower is a different conversation for a different day,” Rick’s voice was stern in his decision.

“Rick…” Negan began but Lily interrupted, “Rick, he’s been a model patient and prisoner. Plus, if I’m going to keep spending time down here, then I really need him to start smelling better.” “I’m pretty ripe, Rick,” Negan agreed.

Rick sighed, “Fine. We’ll start you on a schedule,” he looked at Lily, “But you need to stand outside the door.” She agreed, “Of course.” “Thanks, Rick. I’ve been a little tired of fucking smelling my own…well, ya know…” Negan joked.

“Did you just…thank me?” Negan gave a proud nod. “You might be a miracle worker…” Rick couldn’t believe his ears.

“Nah. He just wants to be a part of all of this. He still has a long way to go but we’re getting there. Slowly but surely.” Lily winked at Negan and beamed. “You’ve gotten more accomplished in a month than I have in years. Well, I’ll get someone to get a haircut then we’ll get you upstairs for a shower.” Rick shut the cell door after Lily stepped out.

She turned around and said, “I’ll be back in a bit.” “I’ll miss you,” Negan snickered. She rolled her eyes as she followed Rick upstairs.

“I’m impressed. Each week he gets better and better. Maybe I’ll take him out for a run soon. He could use the experience,” Rick headed towards the front door. She nodded, “I think he’d like that. The sunshine might be good for him.”

“Stay here. I’ll go grab someone to cut his hair. Head upstairs and see if you can find some clean clothes. There should be some extra in the dresser in the master bedroom,” Rick headed out the door as Lily went upstairs.

She searched through the dresser and found a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that she assumed could fit him. Might be a little tight, she thought, Not a bad thing… She stopped herself, “Girl, no. No, no. Do not give him that satisfaction.”

 “So that’s what you look like! You always hid behind that mane,” Lily joked. “You’re welcome,” he said, standing up, “Thanks, Enid. I feel much better. And thanks for not jamming those scissors into my fucking jugular.” Enid stared at him, “I just didn’t want to get blood on my shirt.” She walked out of the cell and stomped upstairs. “What a god damn peach,” he mumbled. “Dude, you killed people she cared about. She’s gonna hate you for a while,” Lily snapped.

He shrugged, “Yeah. I deserve that shitty attitude…” “Okay, ready for that shower?” she asked. “Let’s go! Can’t wait!” He couldn’t contain his excitement.

They walked upstairs, Lily walking behind Negan for safety. “I’m not going to fucking hurt you,” he looked over his shoulder, “You’re the last person I’d ever hurt.” She looked up at him when they reached the landing, “Rick asked me to treat you like a prisoner. I’m following his request.” “I know but…I would never hurt you. Ever.”

He stared into her eyes in a way she had never seen before. She cleared her throat once more and broke eye contact, “Alright, upstairs, Casanova.” He laughed, “Told you that I’m fucking charming!” She handed him the clothes she found, “These should fit.”

“Hang onto them for me. I don’t want them to get all fucking wet and shit,” he pushed the clothes back to her. “Um, sure. Okay.” She sat them on the chair in the hallway.

“I’ll try not to be fucking long.” He walked into the bathroom and shut the door.  She exhaled heavily and sat down on the floor. God damnit, she thought, He got sexier. Still an idiot but fuck. Ugh. Do not fuck him, Lilith. You will lose your place here.

His voice echoed in the bathroom as he tried to sing an old Rolling Stones song. She shook her head and chuckled, “Jesus…” The shower stopped after about 15 minutes. She watched the door. Grab the clothes and don’t look at him… The door opened, “You got those clothes?” He stepped out into the hallway with a towel wrapped around his waist.  The water ran down his chest and glistened in the dark hair that ran from his pecs down to his pelvis.  She wanted to run her fingers through it and grab hold of the cock that hid underneath the towel.  Her mouth almost watered from the fantasies that ran through her mind.

Holy fuck…. Her stare was too obvious to hide. “Lily. Clothes?” He snapped his fingers to get her attention. “Oh! Yeah! Here. Sorry… I just…” “You’re welcome,” he smirked, “I may be stuck in a shitty cell but I gotta keep these muscles tight for ya. Gotta fucking impress you somehow.”

“Shut up. Just get dressed. I need to get you back downstairs, so I can get you some lunch,” she said. “I might need some help drying off…” his wink sent a burst of heat to her core. “Get your fucking clothes on already!” She pushed him back into the bathroom.

“Damn, okay. Just trying to make you laugh. Why so cranky?” He turned around. “Not cranky. Just…get dressed…” He threw the clothes on and walked back out. “Shirt’s a little tight but it’ll do,” he said, drying his hair. The shirt hugged his biceps perfectly.  She could see his pecs flexing through the fabric and she nearly threw herself on him. Fuck….

“I’ll find you a better one next week,” she looked away. “Well, I like the reaction this one is getting from you so, I don’t mind keeping it for a while.” His toothy grin sent a chill up her spine. She shot him a dirty look., “Get downstairs. Time for lunch.”

He made his way downstairs, chuckling the whole time. “Alright, I’ll be right back. You still got water?” He nodded, shaking the bottle in her direction. She made her way to the kitchen where she had started keeping food to avoid running everywhere.

Stop thinking about him, the voice in her head scolded, He’s a cocky idiot…

“Yeah but he’s fucking sexy as hell,” she whispered. Imagine what his cock must be like… “No!” She argued with herself.  With hands like his, he must be massive.  I bet he’s good with it, too… She shook herself out of it.  “Fuck.  What the hell is wrong with you?”  Everything…