#negan x oc slow burn

[everythingwrongwithizumi]

The Walking Dead

Series

You Got my Heart

Blurbs

…coming soon…

Headcannons

…coming soon…

Oneshots

…coming soon…

Series

…coming soon…

Blurbs

…coming soon…

Headcannons

…coming soon…

Oneshots

To Be Loved

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 81

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: After so long avoiding death, he finally came knocking on their front door. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; sickness; extortion; manipulation; threats via guns; fire; hostages; mind games; murder; someone being hanged; hunting people like animals; taunting; insults; assault; non-sexual bondage; Negan (for real this time); finally someone that can compete with Rick for longest speech; innuendo but like as a threat; threats of forced cannibalism

Chapter 81 - Last Day on Earth

Rick bristled in annoyance as the RV came to a stop for the second time in that trip. After Glenn and Michonne left with Iris, Maggie fell ill, and they made a plan to take her to the Hilltop. Except these Saviours seemed to have an issue with that.

The first time, they were stopped by three cars and a bunch of Saviours standing in the road, demanding their things in exchange for their lives. Rick wouldn’t take that deal, not unless he was on his goddamn knees. 

The second time, now, Abraham pulled the RV to a stop in front of a chain pulled across the road, tied up on a few trees on either side. Walkers were, of course, chained to the main set of links, growling at them as they came closer. 

He scanned the tree line through the windshield, looking for any snipers or people hiding in the foliage.

“Can’t go through it. Can’t risk the RV.” He murmured. Carl stood watching over his shoulder, tensing. “You stay behind the wheel, just in case.” Rick told Abraham. He checked his gun. “We’ll clear it.”

Rick and Sasha stepped out of the RV first, doing a quick sweep before approaching the walkers. Eugene, Carl and Aaron stepped out behind them, keeping their sights on the forest on either side. There were quite a few walkers on the chain, and it was nothing to sneeze at.

“Putting together a red rover like that takes people.” Eugene said, voicing all of their thoughts aloud. “A lot of ‘em.” There were at least a dozen of them, snarling and wheezing as they yanked on the chain, a disjointed collective. The chains were even put through some of the walkers.

“Come on. Let’s do this.” Rick rallied. He slung his rifle over his shoulder as Carl put a hand on his arm.

“Dad…” He warned.

“That’s Michonne’s.” Aaron stated. They turned, following his gaze to one of the walkers. It had a hole gouged through its skull, two of Michonne’s locs shoved through where they would be visible. It was wearing her leather vest, too. And it’s wrist wore her silver bracelet.

“That’s Daryl’s.” Sasha added, paling. One of the other walkers had two crossbow bolts shoved into its shoulder, wearing the black denim jacket Daryl often wore beneath his vest. 

Rick slowed, his face contorting in anger as he looked at the mockery the Saviours set for them. They liked to taunt, it seemed. Predators playing with their food. But Rick refused to be made into prey. He yanked the pair of dreads from the walker’s forehead and made to swing his hatchet, but the sound of gunshots had them all crouching to the road.

They were shooting at their feet, but bullets hurt no matter where they hit you. It appeared that the Saviours didn’t want them messing with their neatly-assembled barricade.

“Get back to the RV! Go!” Rick yelled. He hacked at the walker’s arm whilst the others fired blindly into the trees, just enough to sever the hand from the wrist, enough to grab Michonne’s bracelet and run. The others made quick work of the remaining walkers just as a few Saviours started to appear in the trees.

“Starting it up!” Abraham yelled, throwing himself into the RV. They all clambered inside as soon as the road was relatively clear, speeding across as quickly as the heavy vehicle would go. 

The RV was silent as they continued on, Rick mourning the possibilities of where Michonne and his friends could be. Daryl, Iris, Glenn. All of them were family, and these Saviours kept fucking with his family. As they kept driving, the RV began to make an odd squealing sound, making a few of them wince.

“What’s that sound?” Sasha asked.

“Undercarriage could have caught a bullet. Or could be transmission. It could be nothing.” Eugene replied instantly, listing possibilities. 

“They were firing at our feet.” Rick murmured. “They blocked the road but they didn’t stop us. They want us in this direction.” 

“Barton road takes us North, but they’ve gotta know we want to go North.” Sasha replied. She loomed over the map that Eugene spread over the RV’s table.

“Meadows.” Eugene cut in. “Take us east a piece, but we can get back on track on Mayhew.”

“We’re down to a third of a tank.” Sasha murmured. “We could top off at the next stop, but no refills after that.”

“Alright.” Rick said, wiping a hand over his face. Aaron huffed as he came forward from the back bedroom where Maggie was laid across the bed. 

“She’s burning up.” He said quietly, his expression grave. Rick’s gaze was caught on the bullet holes littering the walls of the interiors. The RV was still making that anxiety-inducing squealing sound.

“Rick.” Abraham called from the front. No fucking way. Rick’s lip curled back as they drove up the hill, slowing. At the crest was yet another blockade of Saviours. At least four cars, and at least four dozen men. They stood around and on top of the cars, forming a wall that blocked any way through. The breaks squealed.

“Go back.” Rick said, his voice catching.

“Where?” Abraham asked earnestly. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, an orange glow shining at the Saviours backs like a perverted halo. Rick didn’t respond right away, his knuckles going white as he gripped Abraham’s seat. He turned to the back as Abraham wheeled the RV around, going to check on Maggie. 

His stomach dropped as he entered the room, her skin pallid and sweaty, her hair plastered to her forehead. She cleared her throat as he knelt at her side, brushing the hair away from her face.

“Are we close?” She croaked. He exhaled shakily, gently taking her hand.

“Yeah, we’re— we’re getting there.” He lied. 

“Were there— I heard shots.” She murmured. 

“Yeah. The Saviours. But they’re gone.” He lied again. “We are. We’re gonna get you there.”

“I know.” 

“You’re gonna be okay. The baby’s gonna be okay. This isn’t it. This isn’t it.” He said, trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince her. “There’s more. There’s gonna be more.”

“I believe in you, Rick.” She said slowly, squeezing his hand. 

-

The fourth blockade was comically bad. They’d driven under an overpass on the service road only to be stopped yet again. They all got out of the RV, looking over at the damage. It looked like they’d dumped a fleet of logging trucks across the road, an entire goddamn wall made of full size fucking tree trunks. 

“These tracks…” Eugene pointed out, staring down at the ground. “They would indicate they not only have people but some big-ass toys and capabilities.”

“What it indicates is that we are neck-deep up shit creek with our mouths wide open.” Abraham growled. He looked to Rick for confirmation, who sighed in frustration. 

They all turned at the sound of someone crying out, witnessing a man being thrown over the edge of the overpass, a chain noose wrapped around his neck. He gasped and gagged as the chain pulled taut, a big red ‘X’ spray painted across his chest. Aaron raised his rifle.

“Don’t.” Abraham advised.

“I could try and break the chain.” Aaron protested. 

“It won’t work.” Abraham assured.

“I can try!”

“It won’t work.” Rick parroted. The others lowered their guns slowly, looking up as the man choked and writhed. “We need the bullets.” He gave one last pathetic wheeze before his blue face fell expressionless, the breath leaving his body. 

They turned back around as the scent of smoke permeated their noses, the crackle of fire echoing. They’d set the logs on fire, creating an enormous blaze.

“You’re treating your people good, right?” A voice called. “Like it was your last day on Earth? Or maybe one of theirs? You’d better go. It’s gonna get hot. You go get where you’re going.”

“Go. Go!” Rick hissed, ushering them back into the RV, underneath the swinging body of the main hanging from the chain. The RV backed down the road, back under the overpass, and tried again. 

They drove for a little while before stopping at a crossroads, Sasha laying out their map again. They sat around the table looking at one another in a sorry attempt at decision making.

“So what’s the play?” Abraham sighed. 

“She needs a doctor.” Rick said urgently as he emerged once more from the back bedroom.

“There are two more routes north from here.” Sasha said, pointing on the map.

“They’re probably waiting for us right now.” Aaron grumbled. Eugene shook his head, looking as if he was about to start bawling.

“So they’re ahead of us, probably behind us. But they’re not waiting on us, per se, they’re waiting on this rust bucket. And they don’t know the moment-to-moment occupancy of said rust bucket.” He blubbered. “And the sun sets soon.” Abraham nodded his approval, looking to Rick, who also nodded. 

-

They decided to let Eugene take the RV. He assured them he would play the Saviours’ game, leaving Rick a gift in return, just in case he didn’t make it back. A recipe, he said, and it wasn’t gazpacho. How-to-build-bullets-101, he explained. Abraham could show them where. Rick thanked him profusely, incredibly grateful for how useful Eugene was currently making himself. They were lucky he was there, Rick admitted. And Eugene didn’t argue. 

They bid their goodbyes, trying not to imbue their words with too much finality. They brought Maggie out on a stretcher they’d built, Rick carrying it with Abraham and Aaron. Eugene revved the engine and drove away, leaving them to carry Maggie through the woods. North. Toward Hilltop. 

Carl cleared the way for them as they carried Maggie along. Maggie pleaded with them to let her walk, but she wouldn’t even be able to stand, so they kept her on the cot. 

“I heard what you told her when we were leaving.” Carl said, slowing to walk beside his father. “We can do anything, ‘cause we’ll do anything we need to do. We have and we will. What happened to Denise… I’m not gonna let anybody die like that again.” He spoke with such conviction, it made Rick incredibly proud, despite the incredibly stressful situation they were currently in.

“Son—“ Rick’s praise was interrupted by a whistle through the trees, echoing loudly across the forest. It was dark now, foggy. They were walking by the light of the moon and the only sound so far had been crickets and their own footsteps across the plant litter. 

The whistle was echoed with another, and another. Predators playing with their food. They looked around like deer in headlights, trying to make out the shadows moving in the forest. The whistling was coming from all directions, surrounding them. 

“Go. Go!” Rick urged. Carl took off through the trees first, followed by the others carrying the stretcher as fast as they could. The trees got thicker, the night darker. The whistles louder, no matter which way they turned. 

They made it to another dirt road, a break in the trees for a breath of moonlight, but as soon as they met the centre of the road they were blinded by real headlights, the whistles joining into one cacophonous taunt. More headlights came on, Saviours pouring out of the woods from all sides. They were completely and utterly surrounded, guns ready, but not aimed, for them. 

None of the men surrounding them were whistling, though it still echoed from dozens of lips hidden in the trees. There had to have been a hundred… maybe more. They kept their guns up, spinning around in a futile attempt to defend themselves, even as Abraham and Rick gripped Maggie’s stretcher with shaking hands. 

On the main road, the RV was close by, Eugene on his knees at the side to witness the terror inflicted on his friends. Any emotion left inside them was turned to fear, Rick’s eyes bloodshot and wide as he gaped at their surroundings. And yet it was only the beginning.

“Good.” The same voice called, the man stepping forward. 

He had quite the head of hair, despite his receding hairline, short but voluminous at all points. His eyes and smile were bright and cheerful under a set of thick eyebrows and a moustache. He wore a short-sleeved button down and a thick belt with a holster, his hands on his hips. He had something on a pendant around his neck, but it was tucked into the wife beater he wore underneath, invisible. He had been the one to first offer their ‘deal,’ and now he would witness their inevitable surrender. 

“You made it.” He grinned, his arms spread wide. “Welcome to where you’re going. We’ll take your weapons.” They made no move, and he smoothly pulled out his pistol and aimed at Carl. “Now.”

“W-we can talk about it—“ Rick stammered.

“We’re done talking.” The man said, his smile faltering. “Time to listen.” A bunch of them came from the surroundings, swarming the group and relieving them of any visible weapons and a few knives-in-boots, checking pockets. They were none too gentle, even with the stretcher. The man himself took Carl’s gun, looking him in the eye. “That’s yours, right?” Carl said nothing, staring hard into the man’s soul with a lethal gaze. “Yeah, it’s yours.” He flicked Carl’s hat upward before standing straight. “Okay. Let’s get her down and get you all on your knees. Lots to cover.” He clapped his hands and two others came forward to help them lower the stretcher, but Abraham almost growled.

“Hold up.” He stated. “We got it.” The man waved the others off, allowing them to lower Maggie to the ground gently without their interference. They helped Maggie stand, just barely, enough to stagger over to where the man was directing them, kneeling beside a disheveled and bloodied Eugene. The man stood in front of Rick, almost eight inches taller, forcing Rick to look up at him.

“Gonna need you on your knees.” He stated simply. Rick licked his lips, knowing they all watched him as he obeyed, kneeling on the gravel beside Maggie, Abraham at her other side. Sasha knelt beside him, then Carl, then Eugene. He clapped his hands. “Let’s get the other ones. Right now. Dwight!”

“Yeah.” An answering voice called. Dwight appeared from the thrum of Saviours at their surroundings, surveying the line of people kneeling before his peer. Dwight moved to the van he’d been standing beside, opening the back door to allow the headlights to shine inward. “Come on. You got people to meet.”

Daryl was bare-chested and bloody, his face ashen. Dwight had to half drag him out, more Saviours coming for the rest of them. Michonne grunted as she was yanked roughly, Glenn behind her. 

“Maggie?” He croaked, hearing her cry softly in response as they wrestled him to his knees. 

Iris was last. Her hair was unbound and in her face, her mouth gagged and limbs tied tightly. Her wrists were also tied to her ankles, making it virtually impossible for her to move. Two of them came and grabbed her by the arm, hauling under her shoulder before unceremoniously dumping her next to the others. 

“The hell is this?” The cheerful man asked, looking down at Iris with amusement.

“The bitch is rabid.” One of the Saviours snorted, Dwight shrugging with a half-nod. She bared her teeth at the man standing over her, and he spared no patience slapping her across the face with the back of his hand. Daryl wrestled weekly against his binds, but he was so bloodless he could barely move.

“Alright!” The cheerful man said loudly. “We’ve got a full boat!” He walked backward as they all faced the RV, knocking gently on the door. “Let’s meet the man.”

The door swung open to reveal the darkness of the RV, and slow, calm footsteps as the silhouette descended from within. 

“Pissing our pants yet?” The man asked. 

The first thing Iris saw as he stepped into the light was his smile. He was handsome, his smile charming, his eyes and expression warm and inviting. The way he moved was nauseatingly familiar, like one’s friendly neighbour or high school sports coach. His salt and pepper beard was neatly trimmed, his hair slicked back. His designer leather jacket was paired a red scarf tied nicely at his throat. He carried a baseball bat in his left hand, the wood stained in a gradient of red, the end of it wrapped neatly in a metric ass-ton of barbed wire. His voice was like whiskey, smooth with a sharpness that made it easy to listen to.

“Boy, do I have a feeling we’re getting close.” He mused, walking forward and looking each of them in the eyes. “It’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Which one of you pricks is the leader?”

“It’s this one.” The cheerful man stated, pointing a finger at Rick with a straight arm, as if he was correctly answering a question in a kindergarten class. “He’s the guy.” 

The man tilted his head and sighed as he looked Rick over, seeming almost disappointed. He got closer, feeling them out.

“Hi.” He said warmly. “You’re Rick, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people. Not cool.” He shook his head, sighing. “Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But, I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly.” Rick looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and Negan almost winced, but it turned into a cunning smile. “Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes. Yes you are. You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what, you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is this, and it’s really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you very may well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes. Pay attention.”

Negan lowered the bat and Rick flinched away as it swung close to his right ear. Negan brought it up beside his head, almost resting atop his shoulder. He smiled again, looking Rick right in the eye as he spoke softly.

“Give me your shit… or I will kill you.” He stood up straighter, flashing those pearly whites. He started pacing across the line of them. “Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do.” He used the bat to point at Rick. “You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That’s your job. Now I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly will. You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe, I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged. More pegged if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. And if that’s too much, you can make, find or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. 

“This is your way of life now. The more you push back, the harder it will be. So if someone knocks on your door, you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us and we will knock it down. You understand?” He leaned in, cupping a hand to his ear as he faced Rick again. “What, no answer?” He wiped a hand down his jaw. “You didn’t really think you were gonna get through this without being punished, now, did you? I don’t want to kill you people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growing a garden.

“But you killed my people, a whole damn lot of them. More than I’m comfortable with. And for that, for that you’re gonna pay. So now, I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.” He skillfully flipped the bat in his hands, leaning close to Rick again. “This, this is Lucille. And she is awesome. All this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honour.”

He walks past each of them, sizing them up for what they were worth. He stalls at Abraham, whose chest puffs up and he looks Negan right in the eyes. He straightens to his full size, so that if he were to take it, he would take it as he was. The man seemed to be impressed by this, chuckling at Abraham’s audacity. He rubbed a hand down his jaw again.

“Huh.” He hummed. “I gotta shave this shit.” He moved down the line, stopping at Carl, and kneeling down to meet his eye line. “You’ve got one of our guns. Whoa. Yeah. You got a lot of our guns.” He watches as Carl’s gaze narrows, looking at Negan as if he were the one who was disappointed, confused as to what the purpose of this might be. “Shit, kid, lighten up. At least cry a little.” He chuckles. He picked up the pistol, tucking it in the waistband of his pants and adjusting his jacket over it. He sniffed, clearing his throat as he moved over to Maggie.

“Jesus. You look shitty.” He whistled. Glenn twitches and Iris shakes her head, but he ignores her. “I should just put you out of your misery right now.”

“No! No!” Glenn screamed. He jumped up before the Saviours could catch him, making to tackle Negan, but they wrestled him to the ground, unloading punches and kicks until he stopped fighting them. 

“Stop!” Maggie cried hoarsely. Dwight stands over Glenn with Daryl’s crossbow, aiming it at him, ready and prepared. Negan scratches his lip like a disappointed teacher, shaking his head.

“Nope. Nope, get him back in line.”

“No.” Glenn garbles as they haul him into place. “No! No!” He cries out in frustration. “Don’t! Don’t.” Negan chuckles, rearing back, amused. 

“Alright, listen. Don’t any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. First one’s free, it’s an emotional moment—“ He pauses to point at Glenn with a smile, “— I get it.” They were all trembling, tears in their eyes and straining, trying not to cry out or grit their teeth or utter a single word. “Sucks, don’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit.” He surveys them for another moment, his eyes flitting back and forth between Rick and Carl.

“This is your kid, right?” He asks. He chuckles. “This is definitely your kid.”

“Just stop this!” Rick yelled suddenly. He apparently had had enough of the emotional torment.

“Hey!” Negan yells in reply, moving back to Rick. “Do not make me kill the little future serial killer. Don’t make it easy on me. I gotta pick somebody. Everybody’s at the table waiting for me to order.” He walks up and down the line again, enjoying the attention, the silence. He whistles to himself, chuckling. “I simply cannot decide. I got an idea.” He steps in front of Rick, raising the bat.

“Eenie. Meanie. Miny. Moe. Catch… a tiger… by… its toe. If… he hollers… let him go. My mother… told me… to pick… the very… best one… and you… are… it.” He pauses, looking around at all of them. 

“If anybody moves, anybody says anything, I’ll cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doing that.”

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

@hayley1998

@negansbestie

@lizey-thornberry

[walker-bait-1973]

8 Years Part One

Photo Edit by Me

A Daryl Dixon/ Sybil Tremont Fanfiction (Daryl x OC)

Background information: It’s assumed the reader knows the world of TWD. This Fanfic takes place after Alexandria, Hilltop, Oceanside, and the Kingdom are established and at the height of success. Carl is dead. The communities are bound by a doctrine created by Michonne. Rick is presumed dead. Daryl and Michonne never lost hope and searched for several years for Rick without luck. Daryl had a short relationship with Leah. The Saviors disbanded with Negan in a jail cell in Alexandria. The Whisperers have been defeated, and Lydia is a valued member of the Hilltop homestead.

18+

Daryl x OC (Female)

Warnings: Violence, Alcohol, Slow Burn, Fluff, Smut

Part Two

Master List

Chapter 1: Caramel

The summer of 1990 was a record-breaker for heat. The sun shone brighter than ever by early June. While people around Atlanta were finding ways to keep cool, Merle Dixon along with his younger brother Daryl, and their motorcycle gang pulled into the local 7-11 to get some ice-cold brews. They were headed to Pine Lake for a party. Merle and two of his buddies went inside for drinks.

“Hey Merle, get some snacks too!” Daryl yelled after him. Merle shot him the middle finger, laughed, and went inside. Daryl lit up a cigarette. As he listened to the group talking and laughing, a small group of young ladies walked past them. Daryl’s attention averted to have a gander at these five women. One, in particular, stood out to him. She was a curvaceous woman, with an ample chest, wide hips, and thick thighs. Her long ebony curls bounced in a neat ponytail as she walked in flip-flops with painted red toenails. She was wearing a pair of cut-off blue jean shorts that hugged her apple-shaped bottom. Her skin was a delicious shade of caramel, tanned from the hot sun no doubt. Her red halter top complimented the shade well. As she passed him he said, “Hot day.”

She nodded curtly, eyeing the pale-skinned man in the grey tank top as her friends giggled and they went into the store. She stopped for a moment to look over her shoulder at him, “You better watch yourself, you’re gonna get burned.”

He smiled slyly and playfully smacked Terry in the chest as the automatic door swung shut, “damn!”

“She’s outta your league, Daryl.” Terry chuckled as Daryl rubbed his dirty blonde goatee. He was already plotting what to do next.

“Naw… she ain’t.” He took a breath before heading into the convenience store himself. Terry looked at Buck and sniggered.

Inside, Daryl could hear Merle’s loud voice back by the beer cooler laughing with Sam and Joe. He casually walked down one aisle with low shelves, spying on the girls over by the Slurpee machine comparing flavors. He paused by the snacks and perused the various chips, raising his eyes often to watch the girls as they laughed and poured themselves the thick icy beverage. He glanced back praying his brother wouldn’t come up while he made his move. He walked to the girls and said, “Hey, ‘s y’ flavor?”

“Caramel” sucked slowly on her straw before saying, “Cherry.” A pair of large green eyes framed with long lashes lifted to look at him. He felt his insides turn to mush, as a boyish grin crossed his face.

He followed her outside and as she started walking away with her friends he called out, “’s yer name?”

Looking over her rounded shoulder, “Sybil.”

From that moment on, he was hooked.

Chapter 2: The Receipt

Alexandria

Daryl rolled over, restless in his bed. He heard footsteps thudding on the basement ceiling. Judith and RJ must be over for breakfast. He sat up, Dog instantly licking his face.

“Down, boy…” he grunted. Dog jumped to the floor and waited patiently by the back door for his morning walk. Daryl shirked into some clothes, donned his boots, and opened the door. Dog ran out into the dew-covered grass behind the house to do his duties. Daryl whistled,  beckoning for Dog to join him as he walked down the road toward the Alexandria main gate.

Rosita and Aaron were up on the platform, keeping watch for possible trouble.

“Good Morning, Daryl!” Aaron called out. Daryl waved quietly and moved along, toward the community center where many of the residents chose to eat together. He walked in, nabbed a fresh loaf of bread, and returned to Carol’s house.

“Good morning Uncle Daryl!” Judith exclaimed running to him as soon as he closed the door.

“Mornin’ Jude,” he answered as she hugged him around the waist. He put his arms around her shoulders and hugged her in return. RJ joined them and gave Daryl a high five.

“Come on, Judith… RJ… let’s get you fed before classes.”

“Y’ heard Aunt Carol… c’mon and get to the table.” Daryl grabbed a knife and started cutting up the bread for toast. Carol served the kids fresh scrambled eggs, apple slices, and orange juice. They munched on the yummy food while Carol poured Daryl his first cup of coffee. He leaned against the counter sipping it, his mind wandering.

He went weeks before he saw Sybil again. This time, she was at a grocery store as a cashier. What luck Daryl had! He spotted her immediately as he carried the armloads of food to the register. He decided to go through her line, affording him a great opportunity to talk to her again.

“Have a nice day,” she was saying as she handed the receipt over to the customer in front of him.

He scratched the back of his neck as she started cashing him out, “find everything you were looking for?” She lifted her eyes, a smile on her face, dimples adorning her cheeks.

“Naw…”

“No? Is there something I can help you with?”

“Sure. Y’all could give me y’ number.”

She chuckled, “You’re mighty confident.”

“’ Member me?”

“Not sure that I do,” she replied, toying with him. There was no way Sybil could forget those deep-set blue eyes and that handsome face.

“I can make it so y’ never f’get me again.” He leaned on the conveyor belt, stopping it.

“Oh yeah?”

There was a line forming behind him.

“You’re right I’ll never forget you if you get me fired,” she feigned being cross.

“Give me y’ number an’ I’ll pay m’ total.”

“I don’t even know your name,” she said, “that will be twenty-eighty-seven.”

He pulled out thirty bucks. When she returned his change, she handed him his receipt.

“Daryl. M’ name’s Daryl.”

She smirked, “have a nice day, Daryl.”

He grabbed his bag, frowning. As he put his change in his pocket, he realized she’d written a phone number on the back of the receipt.

She winked at him and started on her next customer’s order.

“… Daryl?”

Daryl looked up from his mug at Carol, “Huh?”

“I asked what your plans were for today. Where were you just now?”

He shook his head, “Nowhere. ‘M thinkin’ of takin’ a ride t’ Hilltop.”

“Yeah? If so, could you take a few things for me? I made Maggie some curtains for Hershel’s room in the Barrington House, and there are some parts that Eugene needs for the radio.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, get t’ stuff t’gether n’ I’ll take it w’ me.”

He took a plate of eggs and set it on the floor for Dog.  Dog chowed down while Daryl munched on a piece of toast.

“Alright, go get washed up and Uncle Daryl will walk you to school on his way out.”

“Okay,” Judith looked at her younger brother, “get your stuff.”

Once Daryl delivered the kids to class, he and Dog ambled to the gate where Carol was waiting for him. He shouldered his pack and strapped the box of things to take down on his motorcycle. Carol squeezed his shoulder, “You have a safe trip, okay? Tell everyone I say hello. Oh, and I nearly forgot. Judith wrote Hershel a letter.” She slipped it into his hand. Daryl smiled.

“I’ll make sure he gets it.”

Chapter 3: Lending A Hand

Hilltop

Daryl sped into Hilltop, Dog in tow, and parked close to the barn. He got several waves from various community members and was warmly greeted by Maggie. She wrapped her arms around him for a big hug, “Been a long time, stranger,” she remarked, squeezed his shoulder, and knelt to pet Dog.

“Too long,” Daryl confessed, nodding in acknowledgment toward Jesus and Tara.

“Damn right it’s been too long,” Tara piped up, “tell us, what’s everyone been up to?”

“Y’ know,” he shrugged, “same old. Ain’t much t’ tell.” He patted his jacket pocket, “Got somethin’ f’ Hershel though.” He pulled out the envelope and handed it to Maggie.

“A letter from Judith?” She ran her fingers over the front of the makeshift envelope.

“Mhm. Seems they’re becomin’ pretty good pen pals,” He smiled.

“They are. It won’t be long, they’ll be on the radio talkin’. I think Hershel has a lil’ crush,” Maggie’s toothy grin spread.

Daryl grunted, “I got stuff f’ Eugene too.”

“He’s up in the attic monkeying with things, I’ll run it up to him,” Jesus said knowing full well how Eugene liked to talk people’s ears off, and Daryl was more of a quiet man.

“Thanks f’ that,” Daryl remarked looking around, “Where’s Connie?”

“She’s at Oceanside with Kelly and Luke. I know you’re disappointed,” Maggie teased.

“I’ll catch her soon ‘nough.” He shrugged, “’m here now. What can I do t’ help out?”

“We have a few cabins to build. Wanna help with that?”

“Sure,” he nodded, walking with Maggie to the area of expansion past the orchards. He was greeted by Alden, one of the blacksmiths, who was delivering a box of nails.

“Daryl, good to have you here,” Alden smiled, handing him a hammer.

“Jus’ tell me where t’ go.”

He pointed to one of the cabins already in progress. Daryl joined in immediately. As he worked with the others, it wasn’t long before he was sawing logs, roofing, and throwing himself into the job at hand. Daryl didn’t mind hard work. When the frame of the cabin was finished, he felt a sense of accomplishment and moved onto the exterior walls.

When he paused to take a cigarette break, he spotted Lydia making her way over to him. She had a wide smile on her face, her long black hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. Elijah was holding her hand, the same goofy smile on his face. Daryl smirked. Young’uns.

“We brought you some water. You’ve been working hard,” Lydia handed him a canteen.

“Thanks,” he said, swishing the cold liquid in his mouth. Felt cool and refreshing on this warm Spring day.

“We were going to head to Alexandria for a visit, but now seeing as you’re here, we won’t leave until you do. If you don’t mind.”

“Naw could use the company,” he answered, patting her shoulder.

“Great! I miss everyone. And I wanted to see Negan.”

Frowning, “What y’ need t’ see him for? He ain’t no good, Lydia.”

“I know his past, and I know how you feel about him-”

“You don’t know all ‘bout that sumbitch.” Daryl never talked with anyone in his family about what transpired when he was held prisoner at Negan’s compound, Sanctuary. Tortured, starved, stripped down for humiliation…

“I suppose I don’t. But he stuck up for me when those kids attacked me. If it weren’t for him, I might not be here. I don’t need you to understand it, but I won’t sneak around to talk to him.”

Daryl had to give her credit for being so upfront about her connection with Negan. It was true that he helped her one night when three members of Alexandria ganged up on her. It was also true that one ended up dead at Negan’s hand. It was an accident, but with Negan’s history, it nearly got him lynched.

“I don’t understand it, an’ I don’t like it. But I ain’t gonna stop ya.”

That’s one thing Lydia admired about Daryl – he didn’t treat her like a little girl. He talked to her as if she was an adult, and she respected that. Too many people tried to treat her like a child. She was seventeen, and beyond her years in many ways.

Daryl tossed her back the canteen, “Back t’ work. Y’ know, y’all could help out. Get done a lot faster.”

“I can swing a hammer,” Elijah smirked, “I’m gonna help out.”

“I’ve got some other things to do, but then I’ll be back over.” Lydia kissed Elijah before leaving. Elijah blushed and cleared his throat.

“C’mon,” Daryl spoke up, “ ‘s getcha that hammer.”

Chapter 4: First Date

(One Week Later) Daryl drove up to the house where Sybil lived. Already outside, she’d been waiting for him. She laughed when he turned off his motorcycle.

“I just knew you were going to show up on that thing.”

Daryl looked down at the bike, “’s my ride.”

She nodded, “Oh yeah… it’s your ride alright. I’ve never been on one before.”

“Well, y’all will have the time o’ yer life then.” He smiled. She walked over in a pair of tight-fitted jeans, her hips swaying practically mesmerizing him.

“Interesting way to start a first date,” She commented, sliding on behind him. Her hands went to his waist, clutching tight as he kicked the motor on and took off down the street.

“Shouldn’t we have helmets?” She called into the wind. Daryl swung the bike onto the main road.

“Naw… yer fine.”

She laughed, “As I said before, you’re mighty confident.”

Daryl enjoyed the feeling of her behind him, her hands tightening their grip. He lowered his left hand and pulled one of her arms around him tighter.

“You’re bold,” she remarked, but slid her other arm around, locking her hands in front of his stomach.

“So are ya.”

They drove along Pine Lake, one of the first places he could think of to take her. When they got off the bike she said, “You’ve got me alone, in the woods. Should I be afraid?”

“I didn’t keep y’ alive on that bike only t’ kill ya in the woods,” He smirked. She laughed. It was music to his ears; so light and genuine.

“Been t’ Pine Lake ‘fore?”

“Oh yes. This is the main hang-out spot. You?”

“Come here a bit.”

They walked a trail along the east side of the lake, quiet at first.

“So that gang you’re with…” she finally cut the silence as she studied the trees, “been with them long?”

Daryl shrugged, “yeah. They’re kinda family. My big brother Merle started hangin’ out w’ some guys an’ it went from there.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Just one,” he teased.

“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes.

“’ Bout twenty or so. Why?”

She shrugged, “Just curious.”

She pulled a leaf off a branch and twirled it between her fingers.

“Y’ thinkin’ ‘m gonna be trouble?”

“I don’t know… are you?”

“Maybe,” he stopped walking and pointed, “look,” he whispered, “a doe.”

She squinted, “Where?”

He extended his arm with his fingertip pointing, “Between them two birch trees. See her?”

After a few moments, Sybil smiled brightly, “I do. She’s beautiful. You have a keen eye.”

Daryl shrugged, “maybe.”

“Do you spend a lot of time in the woods?”

“Quite a bit. How ‘bout ya?”

“I love nature, but no… I haven’t been camping since I was a kid.”

“Yer missin’ out.”

“I suppose I am.”

“C’mon, I wanna show y’ somethin’.”

“Okay.”

They continued casually down the trail until he veered off it, onto an unbeaten path.

“Okay, now I know you’re going to kill me,” she teased.

“C’mon,” he rolled his eyes. They came to some tall rocks, “Up f’ a lil’ climbin’?”

Hands on hips she looked up at the rocks, “Should I have worn hiking boots?”

“Naw… them shoes are fine.”

She looked down at her vans and was thankful she’d chosen them.

“Alright. Let’s go. Show me the way.”

“It ain’t gonna be as hard as it looks. Found an easy way to get up there.” He motioned for her to follow. He went around the right-hand side of the stone goliaths.

“See here,” he pointed in front of him and upward, “almost like someone made a trail in them rocks.”

“They look like they have stepping stones cut into them.”

He started up the incline, turning around every so often to make sure she was still behind him. She was eagerly bringing up the rear, keeping close.

“’s is the hard part,” he said, reaching for her hand, “lemme help y’ up the rest o’ the way.”

She took his hand and he pulled just enough to get her over the final ledge. She took a breath and looked down behind her whistling, “We are up high.”

He nodded, “Higher than it looks from down there.”

She noticed a singed area and a pile of wood.

“You come here often?”

He nodded, “’s m’ place t’ getaway. C’mere… an’ look.”

She joined him on the opposite side of the rocks and looked out. What a sight to behold. She could see the large lake in its entirety from this vantage point, and the multitude of trees on the other side. The sun was bright in the sky. She felt as if she could reach out and touch it. The rays warmed her face. She turned to look at Daryl. His blue eyes were studying her, gauging her reaction. The humongous smile on her face was enough for him. He was convinced that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

Daryl rolled to his side and stared into the darkness inside the hay mound sighing. He didn’t sleep much, to begin with. And even less since the world fell. Thinking of her made it near impossible. He sat up while Dog rustled through the hay to rest his head in Daryl’s lap. He brusquely pet the dog's head. Dog whined. He’d been with Daryl so long that he could read his emotions.

“S’ alright, boy. ��ll get through it. Always do.” He got to his feet, stretched, and said, “C’mon. ‘S go f’ a walk.” Daryl and Dog made their rounds, checking the sentinels on the wall, joining them for a bit to watch for walkers or marauders.

“You’re up early,” Cal commented, shaking out his foot that fell asleep.

Daryl shrugged, “Always am. Don’t need much sleep.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Dixon,” Cal continued.

Diane looked over at the two men, “Be thankful Daryl doesn’t sleep much. He’s saved a lot of our asses more than once because of it.”

Cal knew it was true and agreed, “Oh I know he has. It’s just when I manage to have some time to rest, I conk out. Sometimes for half a day.”

People meandered about as the sun rose, and Daryl found himself back to work at the cabins.

“You know, there’s always one of those here for you,” Jesus said, holding up a board to be nailed.

Daryl said, “Hate t’ take a place from someone else. I don’t mind the hay mound or a tent. ‘M easy.”

“So have you completely set down roots in Alexandria?”

Daryl shrugged, “Dunno if I set roots down anywhere.” The truth was the man had huge bouts of wanderlust and couldn’t sit still for too long before needing to be out in the wild again. He went with Aaron sometimes to look for more people to bring back to the communities. He brought messages from one community to the next. He also liked to provide food, go on scavenging runs; anything to keep himself busy.

People that knew him knew he was this way. They noticed a big change when Rick infamously blew up the bridge that was to connect everyone to save his people. 

Daryl disappeared for three years. During his search for Rick, he met a woman by the name of Leah. No one knew about the affair he’d had with her except Carol. Dog had discovered an old house that seemed abandoned one day during their travels. But it wasn’t empty. That’s when he found an ornery woman living there that didn’t want him anywhere around her land. After about a year they began to talk, her more than him, and in a few more months they shared food. After that Daryl realized how lonely he was; one thing led to another and the two became involved. It didn’t last long. Daryl pulled away for several reasons: he wanted to continue looking for Rick, and he couldn’t allow himself to feel what he once felt for Sybil. When he was with Leah, she knew he was far away in his mind: thinking about his brother, and she had no idea what else. He couldn’t open up to her. That took years and trust. Something he knew he could never have with her. She put conditions on him and gave him ultimatums.

“It’s your brother or me.”

“It’s your family or me.” He was not a man who responded well to conditions. He wasn’t about to choose a woman that wanted all or nothing. So he walked away, never looking back.

Chapter 5: The Race

After two weeks of working on cabins, several were finished thanks to the hard labor everyone put in. Daryl wanted to reward them all with some venison, so he decided he’d head out before the light of day to hunt.

Dog stayed in step with Daryl as they silently made their way through the forest. He’d seen deer droppings which decided the direction they would go. Tell-tale signs of a foraging deer were seen everywhere if you were observant enough. Daryl was a master of tracking. He held his breath as soon as he saw the three-point, lifted his crossbow, aimed, and fired. The arrow hit its mark between the front shoulder and the ribcage, piercing the heart. The deer dropped where it stood, feeling no pain. Just the way Daryl liked it. No suffering.

He set to work right away field dressing the internal organs before he heard the groans of Walkers coming from the left.

“Shit,” he muttered, hefting the deer over his shoulders, “c’mon Dog,” he called, quickly making his exit. The organs would keep the few Walkers busy. At least enough for him to get safely away.

He returned at dusk with his prize, congratulated by many, and thanked personally by Maggie.

“Can’t have them people be veg’tarians,” Daryl teased, taking it to hang out back.

“Oh no, too many vegetables will make the people weak,” Maggie teased. Daryl eyed her between his curtains of bangs, a smirk on his face.

“They’ll appreciate it to be sure. We can do a lot with poultry and beef…”

“But there ain’t nothin’ like venison,” he cut in.

She nodded, “Right.”

They heard kids laughing and spotted Hershel and the other kids playing with Dog. Dog of course loved all the attention.

“Seems good to have them bein’ kids, huh?” Maggie asked, sighing. She had to dig deep to remember the days of misspent youth and no fear. Riding horses with her sister Beth, playing in the fields, and nights catching fireflies.

Daryl nodded as he shoved his bloodied hands into a basin of water, “Mhm… they ain’t had it so good, growin’ up too fast ‘cause t’ way t’ world turned out.” He dried his clean hands on a rag and watched the kids for a bit, a small smile on his face.

“Can’t catch me dog,” Marigold yelled out, her laugh echoing through the trees.

(August) ”You’ll never catch me, Daryl!” Sybil yelled, swimming faster out towards the floating dock in the middle of the lake. Daryl however was an experienced swimmer and was soon closing in on her. The thrill of the chase caused Sybil to start laughing and slowed her down in speed. Daryl slowed his pace, waiting for her to gain her wits and start moving faster again. Soon her hands were touching the dock.

“Damn, y’ got away,” he said, holding the edge of the dock with his hands. She splashed him playfully.

“I know you let me win.”

“Did no such thing.”

She giggled, “Okay… deny it all you want.” She caressed his damp cheek, “I’ll still give you your reward,” she moved closer and kissed his wet lips before pulling up onto the dock. Daryl could feel his stomach flip flop and his heart quicken in reaction to her affection. It was their first kiss. His cheeks reddened and he pulled up onto the dock next to her, their feet dangling in the water. He’d been pursuing her avidly for several months. His first thoughts of just wanting to bed the woman passed once he realized there was so much more to her than just a beautiful body. She had spunk, a clever mind, and kept him on his toes. He’d never met anyone like her before. Sybil seemed to enjoy her time with him, and this kiss just solidified what he was hoping for. He knew that other guys were trying to get her attention, he wasn’t blind. But the more she accepted offers of dates from him, the less concerned he became with them.

She laid back on the dock, the sun’s rays kissing her wet skin. Her hair spread out above her head like a dark halo. Her red one-piece showed plenty but left just the right amount covered to let the imagination run wild.

Daryl chewed his lip for a moment, “Sybil…”

“Mhm?” She hummed, shielding her eyes from the bright sky as she looked his way.

“’S a band playin’ at a bar next weekend. A local band… thought maybe y’all would like t’ go.”

“What kind of music?” she asked him curiously.

“Heavy stuff. Ain’t no room for country shit.”

She grinned, “You’ve got yourself a plus one then. I think it would be a lot of fun.” The idea of being squished in close to her was on his mind. He was still a man after all.

“Rememberin’ the good old days?” Maggie asked. Daryl stopped chewing his lip.

“Gonna go find somethin’ t’ do.”

Chapter 6: Scavenging Parts

“Hey, Daryl…” Jesus caught up with the archer after morning chores, “Eugene needs some parts for the solar panel he’s been working on and gave me directions to a place he thinks I can find those parts. Wanna ride with me, help me out?”

Daryl nodded as he finished brushing a horse down, “be ready in a few. Lemme finish up here.”

Jesus drove fast down the road. Daryl stared at the directions, “A bullfrog’s hop t’ the right of a… what t’ hell is this?” He asked, scratching his head.

Jesus laughed, “It’s directions. Eugene wrote them.”

“F’ fuck’s sake. Two leagues past the old maple tree… ‘s a million maple trees out here!” He threw the instructions on the dashboard. Jesus smirked, “Don’t kill me. I wrote those just to tease you.”

“You bastard,” Daryl huffed, but smiled in the end, “figures. Where’s them directions at?”

Jesus pulled a paper out of his front pocket, “Here.”

Daryl read them quickly, “’s more like it.”

When they rolled up to the old rusty warehouse, Jesus cut the engine and looked over the list Eugene had given him. Daryl got out and started scouting for Walkers, and anyone else who happened along the way. He and Jesus cleared out a small group of the dead before breaking the chain lock on the door to head inside. Pigeons flew in the disturbed air kicking up dust and dirt. The men covered their mouths, Daryl quickly pulling his rag from his back pocket. He tied it over the bottom half of his mouth.  Both were silent as the grave as they passed through the large building in search of any trespassers alive, or undead. Once they were certain it was empty, they set out to find each of the things Eugene wanted. It took longer than they expected since neither knew where to start. Searching boxes, and reading labels… they’d found two of the five things before dark.

“Looks like we’ll be staying the night,” Jesus huffed, wiping the dust from his hands onto his pants.

“Mhm,” Daryl lowered his backpack and brought out some salted dried venison, doling out some pieces to Jesus.

“Thanks,” Jesus said as they sat on the cold cement floor.

 As they settled in for the night, Daryl volunteered to keep a watch out.

“T’morrow we hit them boxes upstairs. Can’t see shit now.”

“Agreed. I didn’t think this would be a two-day trip. I’ll just catch a few winks.”

(1 Year Later) “Sybil, get on over here, woman!” Daryl had called out over the heavy strains of guitar on the jukebox to his girl.

Sybil’s green eyes danced with merriment as she set her beer on the bar and made her way over to the young man who beckoned her. She laughed as he snaked his arms around her waist.

His nose brushed against her ear as he said, “Dance w’ me.” As if she was ever interested in dancing with someone else. She slid her palms flat against his chest as they moved to their own beat. It certainly didn’t match the fast drum solo in the Motorhead song. But finding their way to sway their bodies together had never been a problem. They began to sweat there under the hot lights, their friends milling around them. Some were dancing, others playing pool, and still, some just drinking and sharing conversation.

Daryl’s brother Merle was leaning on his old lady, licking salt from her neck as he downed another shot of tequila. He followed up with a lemon wedge from her cleavage as his loyal gang cheered him on.

“ ‘s get outta here,” Daryl said into Sybil’s ear, “ ‘s gonna get crazy t’night.”

“It’s well on its way,” she said, gripping his hand. They made a quick exit and soon were taking off on his bike. The wind whipped through Sybil’s untethered hair. The exhilaration from the cool air and the feel of her cheek against his back were enough to make Daryl giddy. He pulled up to her apartment and as he walked her to the door she stopped, key in her hand.

“We’ve been seeing each other for a while now,” she spoke up, her eyes staring into his, “and you’ve been good to me, Daryl. Come inside. I want you to stay the night.”

His jaw twitched. He’d been excited for this moment, he wouldn’t deny it. But now that it was here, he felt a sense of pride. He’d spent his time getting to know her. There was still so much to learn. And tonight would be another lesson in the ways of Sybil.

There was no small talk as her roommates were already in their respective rooms sleeping. He hadn’t been in the apartment at night unless there was a crowd of sorority sisters having a party. He and Sybil preferred being out of the house and hanging out with his gang often. She closed her room door there in the dark and turned on a dim lamp next to the bed.

She smiled at him, walking close, her hands caressing either side of his face as they began to kiss passionately. His palms rested on the flat of her back, rubbing slowly up and down as their mouths opened to explore like so many times before. It was more intense though, with pure need behind each tongue lashing and twisting together. A small groan lifted from his throat as she stepped back from him. They stared at one another, the soft glow from the light accentuating her features. The shadows delved into her curves and along the line of her legs.

“Help me out of this skirt, will you, Daryl?”

Daryl heard a noise that caught his attention. He went to investigate but seeing that it was a raccoon he shooed it away before walking the interior of the building alone. He placed a cigarette to his dry lips and lit it. Staring out one of the wide warehouse windows, he saw a few Walkers milling about near the truck. He puffed out some smoke and moved on toward the opposite end.

Sybil was more amazing than he could’ve imagined. Her body was perfection to him, and as she lifted on top of him, her hair swung down her back. He tangled his fingers into it before rubbing down around her ass while she ground her hips on top of him. He breathed as if through honey, labored, and sweet. As she rubbed his chest, a little pout curled on her lips as she neared the height of pleasure, calling out to him. He rolled her to her back, taking her breath away as he kept the rhythm up, bringing her to orgasm. He came in sync with her. He looked down at Sybil, the sweat beading on her forehead, their wet bodies sticking together, and he felt something he’d never felt before – fulfilled.

“Kiss me…” she gasped, still feeling the aftershocks of their lovemaking.

“Ain’t gotta ask, Syb…” He lowered his mouth onto hers, sucking her lips slowly, delightfully before withdrawing. He lay back, his chest still heaving as she lay her cheek upon it, listening to his fast heartbeat. He opened his legs, and she nestled her lower half between them, her stomach resting on his groin, not uncomfortable. He rubbed her saturated back, fingers slipping in the sweat, her hair pasted to her shoulders and his chest. Their bodies fit together like an intimate puzzle. Their hands locked together, fingers woven tight, his free hand cradling her. It was at that moment he knew his heart belonged to her.

When the first hint of light came through the windows, Jesus was up. He and Daryl searched the remainder of the building and found the rest of the items for Eugene by midday.

When they got outside, the Walkers from last night were still wandering around the truck, and seeing the two men, started lurching towards them.

“Dammit,” Jesus uttered while Daryl shot the closest in the head and then pulled his knives. Jesus round-housed one right in the skull, its rotted head exploding from the connection. Daryl took out two, a stab to the front of each temple, and Jesus took down the last one.

“ ‘ll drive,” Daryl said once everything was packed into the back of the pickup. Jesus tossed the keys to him. On the drive to Hilltop, Daryl was reliving those moments with Sybil still. Waking up with his legs wrapped around hers, her body still on his. He could almost feel her warmth, smell her perfume. He swerved almost hitting a Walker in the road. Jesus looked over at him, “Are you sure you’re up for driving?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” He sped up to get past the gathering herd quickly leaving them in the dust.

Eugene was pleased as he met the men getting out of the pickup.

“Did y’all find everything?” he asked as he pulled back the tarp over the parts. He went over the list and marked each item off, “Well done, you guys. I know these doodads don’t look like much, but when I get ‘em all put together, we’ll have some fine additions to those cabins y’all been working so hard on. Electricity! Creature comforts.”

“Glad we could help,” Jesus said as he and Daryl unloaded.

“Did you meet up with any trouble?” Maggie asked as she picked up a small box from the back.

“Naw,” Daryl responded.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Jesus added.

( 1 Month Later) Carver College

Daryl spotted Sybil and her friends in the throes of students in the cafeteria. She’d been pouring over textbooks for a test coming up in English Lit class. He breathed hot air on the back of her neck, “Hey babe.”

She smiled as she whispered, “Daryl…”

Mandy sniggered, “You two are something else.”

Daryl kissed Sybil lightly and slid into the chair next to her.

“Where have you been?” She asked in a hushed tone. She hadn’t seen him in four days. No explanations, no phone calls, “I was worried about you. I thought something might have happened to you!”

“Naw, no need t’ worry. ‘M here now.” He rubbed her hand slowly.

She picked up her books and excused herself from her circle of friends. Daryl grabbed them to carry for her. Once they were outside she turned to him, “Where have you been?” She asked him again, “You just disappeared.”

“I had t’ go outta town w’ Merle.”

“To do what?” She asked curiously.

He shrugged, “Just some odd errands, ain’t no big deal.”

“Daryl, it’s a big deal when you’re dating someone, and you just disappear. What if something happened to you?”

“Syb… don’t need t’ keep tabs on me. Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen t’ me.”

She frowned, “I’m not keeping tabs. Why are you keeping secrets?”

Chapter 7: Unavailable

The deer was finally ready to process. Many offered to help him, but he kindly rejected those offers. He wanted to work alone and get things off his mind. His memories were flooding in and he couldn’t build the dam fast enough to keep them at bay. It was close to the time of year when he first met Sybil. Even though people referred to parts of the year by the period of Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter, Daryl knew it was around June. He felt it in his heart, and thoughts of Sybil were at their pinnacle. He sharpened his knife on a whetstone til the blade could slice easily through the meat, and as he removed the hide, he halted suddenly.

(6 Months Later) Sybil looked up from the bed, “Where are you going, hot stuff?”

He zipped his jeans, “gotta go outta town f’ a few days.”

She sat up, slipping on one of his t-shirts, “where? You never say.”

“Nothin’ y’ need t’ worry y’self over, Syb.” He rubbed her shoulders slowly, “Y’ won’t even have time t’ miss me.” He kissed her lips.

“Your brother is a troublemaker. Why do I have the feeling you two get up to no good when you’re gone?”

He shook out his head and started working the hide again, bound to have the hide salted and stretched before dinner. His workworn hands rubbed the salt into the thin layer of skin remaining, and as he was stretching it, he could smell dinner. His stomach rumbled.  He covered the meat with an old tarp and went to join the others.

That night he sat by the campfire longer than most. The dog was sleeping by his foot, basking in the heat from the flames.

(One Year Later)  Daryl knew it was late. It was nearly one. He’d been out fucking around with his gang, causing a ruckus, getting into a fight with another gang, and then Merle suggested they all go out for drinks. Daryl had a few and lost track of time.

“Shit, I gotta go!” He told his brother.

“What? Why?”

“’S Sybil’s birthday. ‘M late.”

“You’re so whipped. Hell, she’ll have another one next year.”

“That ain’t the point!” He said goodbye to his friends and rushed out to his bike. When he got to Sybil’s apartment, he could see the windows were dark. He pulled the present he had messily wrapped out of his saddle bag and went up to the second floor. He knocked on the door, and Theresa answered.

“What are you doing here, Daryl? Don’t you know how to tell time?”

“Jus’ wanna see Syb… don’t need y’all givin’ m’ a hard time. Lemme in.”

“Why don’t you just go and try to make amends tomorrow? You’re on her shit list you know.”

“Who’s at the door?” Sybil called out behind her. Daryl looked over Theresa’s shoulder and saw Sybil tying up her silky robe.

“Syb… ‘s me. I wanna come in.”

“I’ve got this Theresa…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you go on back to bed.”

Daryl ducked his head in shame, “Happy Birthday.” He held out the gift. Sybil’s hands were on her hips.

“Kind of late for that. My birthday was yesterday. It’s nearly two. What happened?”

“Got caught up w’ the boys. I lost track o’ time s’ all.”

“Oh, that’s all huh? My birthday didn’t matter much to you then, did it?”

“That ain’t true.”

“Sure it is. If you cared, you’d have been on time. You get with those guys and forget everything.” She pulled him into the room, and looked at him in the light, “And what the hell happened to your chin?”

Daryl instinctively touched his jaw. He must’ve gotten a bruise from the fight.

“You’ve been fighting again?”

“Weren’t much o’ a fight,” he half–laughed, “We got ‘em good.”

She stared at him angrily, “I can’t believe you’re missing the point here.” She wiped tears from her eyes, “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

“What? Y’ breakin’ up w’ me?!”

“Yes, I am.”

“Because m’ late f’ y’ birthday?”

“You just don’t get it. You didn’t show up. You didn’t call. And when you finally do show up you don’t feel one inch of remorse for it all.”

“Said I was sorry, Syb. Don’t be like that.”

“No, you didn’t apologize. You bragged about a fight. I don’t want to be a part of this. I expect more from the man I care about.”

He wiped his eyes, blaming the smoke from the fire, and decided it was time to head back to Alexandria. He’d leave as soon as he finished preparing the meat for Hilltop.

Chapter 8: Camping

Daryl waited a couple weeks for Sybil to cool off after their split.

“You’re better off without her baby brother. Now you ain’t tied down to one woman, you can date any y’all want.”

“Don’t wanna date anyone else. I want Sybil,” he muttered, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. He turned over the engine on his bike, bringing it back to life after its tune-up.

“Well she don’t want nothin’ to do with your sorry ass. She thinks she’s too good for ya! There’s plenty of other bitches that are interested in ya.”

“She ain’t a bitch, Merle. She’s different than them other girls.”

“Ooh, are you in love, pussy?”

“Why am I tellin’ y’ anythin’?” He put his tools away, and said, “Goin’ out f’ a bit.”

“Go on then, run back to that highfalutin’ uptown bitch. She must have some sugar ‘tween her legs to keep ya comin’ back to her.”

He showed up at Save A Lot where Sybil worked. She wasn’t at the cash register, but he found her stocking shelves as he searched the aisles.

“Hey Syb…” he said as he approached. She stopped marking canned goods with the pricing gun and looked in his direction.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came t’ apologize. M’ sorry I was such a dick.”

“Are you? Because I have the feeling that the sort of thing that got you in trouble with me in the first place is going to keep happening.”

“Naw… it ain’t. What can I do t’ make y’ change y’ mind?”

She huffed, “You need to stop fighting. I knew full well you were in a gang when I met you. But I don’t think I realized what that entailed.”

He reached out and touched one of her curls, wrapping it around his finger, “I can stop fightin’.”

“Yeah, right,” She rolled her eyes.

“I can,” he insisted.

“Prove it.”

“I will. Supposed t’ be a lil’ somethin’ on Friday. ‘ll come an’ see y’all instead. Maybe I can help you study…” he leaned his arm against the shelf, keeping close to her, “what d’ ya say?”

“Give me a week to think things over. Stay out of trouble until then. I refuse to have a boyfriend that will probably end up in jail. You’re better than that.”

He screeched to a halt on his bike. Right in the middle of the road. 

“Can’t go back to Alexandria.” He felt a tightness in his chest, “Just can’t. C’mon.” He veered off the road and pushed his bike into some bramble to hide it.

He and Dog made their way deep into the forest around them. He knew the area well. He retreated towards a long winding river that cut through a clearing and set up a little lean-to between two trees and dug out a hole for a campfire. He set up a perimeter and fashioned a spear from a sturdy branch to go fishing. He and Dog ate a fine catch of fish for dinner.

He lay back against a log and stared up through the tree branches as the stars peeked into the holes between the leaves.

Three months later, they were back together. It took him that long to convince Sybil that he was staying out of trouble. He hung with the gang but skipped out when any brouhahas took place. His brother and friends didn’t let him live it down. He took the brunt of their brutal teasing, keeping his focus on what he really wanted, Sybil.

He watched as Sybil tried to figure out the instructions to the tent she’d brought on their first camping trip. It was early Autumn, and the weather was still pretty warm. He snorted, “Don’t need that booklet. Didn’t need no fancy tent neither.”

“I wanted it to be special,” she huffed, “and I can’t make heads or tails of any of this.”

He walked over, grabbed the instructions, and tossed them in the fire.

“Hey!” She laughed, “How do you expect to set up this tent then?”

He set to work, “Syb… pull them ropes your way.” He handed her a spike, “Stick ‘em in the ground…”

He pulled the other side and did the same. He put together the supports inside, assembling the tent in no time. She smiled proudly as she looked at the results.

“I knew you were good for something,” she teased, messing with his short hair.

That night after hot and heavy lovemaking, they went skinny dipping in the river not far from their setup. She shone under the moonlight, her body dancing with the beads of water dripping down her shoulders, over her breasts, and into the water at her waist. Daryl joined her and as they made out she said, “I could stay here forever.”

How he wished he had.

Chapter 9: The Thick of the Woods

Daryl spent weeks wandering the woods. He’d become so silent, he didn’t even need to call Dog, Dog just knew when to come. He’d gone a longer distance with each day, following the river downstream. He’d passed some small makeshift cabins and checked them out. Even spent some nights in one or two of them. He fought Walkers. Trudged through a downpour. Played with Dog in different clearings they happened upon. They lived off fish, rabbits, squirrels, wild yams, and leeks.

(2 Years Later) Sybil and Daryl got an apartment together. They’d been together for well over four years, and things just fell into place. They were happy, content with life. She was in her fourth year of college, she wanted to be a teacher, and Daryl was working for a local garage fixing just about anything with a motor.

“C’mon Syb… y’all get that cute ass in here. ‘ll help y’ study.” Daryl wanted to be as supportive to Sybil as he could. Even when he didn’t understand what he was quizzing her on, he felt proud of his girl for being so smart.

“If I don’t know it by now, I’m never going to know it.”

“C’mon ‘s the hard stuff, Early Childhood Development,” He held up the book, “We’re gonna go over t’ ones highlighted. Y’all got the rest down pat.”

“Okay, okay,” She threw her hands up in the air.

“Listen… ‘s somethin’ y’ really want, right?”

“Yes,” she answered, her eyes locking with his.

“Then y’ gotta put the time in. ‘S been four long years, but ‘s almost over. Don’t give up.” He squeezed her hand gently as he leaned in to kiss her.

“What would I do without you?” She asked, rubbing his scruffy cheek.

“Fail t’ damn test,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. They both laughed, “Right. Question one…”

He smiled at the thought, on how she graduated in the top five of her class. He’d liked to have thought he was part of the reason for that, if she wasn’t so smart to begin with. Still, it was some of his favorite time back then, watching her mind work, the way she’d bite her tongue and look at the ceiling while she thought about her answers, and how she loved to be rewarded with kisses.

One evening, just before dusk he heard a scream. Another voice was yelling, “Over here… this way!”

Heavy footfalls, groaning, and growling. Walkers. He followed the sounds and before crashing through the brush, he surveyed the situation. About ten Walkers were surrounding a couple of women and a man. They were fighting the Walkers pretty well, but there were too many. Daryl aimed his crossbow, clipping one Walker in the head about to bite the man’s shoulder. He fell to the ground. Unsure of what happened, the people continued to fight. He unsheathed his two knives, broke through the brush, and took two out, slicing another at the knees. One of the women brought down a knife into its brain. The other woman shoved a Walker into a tree and split its head with a machete. Three more to go. The man was backing up, looking to see if there were any more, turned around, and got one mere moment from attacking him. Daryl wiped the blades on his filthy pants and looked at the people quickly.

“Thank you,” one of the women breathed, “I don’t know if we could’ve made it without your help. Imagine finding another living soul in the woods.”

Daryl nodded as Dog sniffed around for any other threats. The woman with the cleaver was kneeling, cleaning her blade on one of the Walker’s shirts.

“Yes, thank you.” She stood up and turned to face the man, “we wouldn’t have made it.” She brushed an arm across her grimy face and said, “Do we look as bad as you do?” She smiled at the light joke. Daryl did a double-take. He squinted his eyes and studied the woman closely. She wasn’t anything to look at from first glance being road worn and ragged. But he saw those mystifying green eyes he’d never forget.

“S… Sybil?” His voice broke from being quiet for so long. It sounded foreign to him.

“How do you know my name?” She asked, eyeing the stranger. He was caked in mud, grungy from head to toe, long filthy hair pasted to his dirtied face.

“’S me…” was all he could muster taking a step closer. The woman looked deeply into the man’s eyes.

“Syb… ‘s Daryl…” he patted his chest.

“Daryl?” Her eyes widened. With sharp analysis, she determined that under that mess was the man from her past when everything was right in the world. Her throat closed as she stood stone still. The air was so thick, no one spoke, but everyone was bewildered that Sybil could find someone in the middle of nowhere that knew her.

There was movement behind her and a voice, “Mom? Is it safe to come out?”

For Part Two Click Here

[steamed-ham-moved]

𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫

SUMMARY ➣ France releases an airborne virus designed to eradicate all Cryptids. It ends up having the opposite effect… Kagura wants to be left alone, but that might not be possible when she meets Max, then Negan.

╭┄┈┄────────❍•

│Negan & Max X fem OC, somewhat slow burn

│TWD CRYPTID AU

│Warnings - NA

│Multi-chapter(ed), somewhat slow burn

│ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

╰┄┈┄──❍•

[sav1ored]

🍒 Don't roast me too bad bestie 🫶

send  me  🍒  +  a  url  and  i  will  write  positivity  for  them. || @twiicetheheart

//. where do i even begin to say when it comes to my lovely michi ? i already told you i've been lurking on my old ass ramsay blog stealing aesthetics/musing that are negan relatable --- but I've also realized I've come across fond moments between us, can you believe that we've also known each other since around 2017 ? At least that's what it shows when I find things of us back in my many ramsay blogs. BUT WOW ! I was shook by that cause I didn't realize how long it had been ?!

But let's start with just how fantastic you are inside and outside. HOW MUCH I ADORE YOU AND HOW MUCH I MISSED YOU--- yes you know why, we don't have to speak of that. LMAO. I am just happy to have you in my life, always. My fellow Virgos sita for life, always. I hope you know that no matter what, you always had/have a place in my heart and have brought so many beautiful memories into my life that I am thankful for. And I do cherish to this day. And we have so many more memories to create between us, all the food places we can eat LMAO ! Also the ribs matt already promised to make us. UGH--- I'm already drooling at how much food we can pig out together. And also I'm hoping when we go see a horror movie together, we get it all to ourselves like we did when we watched Annabelle xD ! I found my old post talking about that and how we got sushi before the movies. I was like LOOK AT US always getting food even back then AHAH !!! Where is our restaurant au LMAO xD xD ! Or food blog au AHHA !

Seriously though let's also mention how precious your oc is, and how much I adore her, and how much I live for her. She's so perfect, you can tell just how much love you put into her, how lovely she is--- and how much love she brings out of my muses. like negan and Soldier Boy for example. I MEAN FIRST OFF--- soldier boy x Michelle came out of nowhere OMFG--- like in started out at a coffee shop, to a hug and now I'm like.... damn just kiss already-- I TOLD YOU I WAS BAD A SLOW BURNS AHHA. No but that's the fun part of finding someone you roleplay with and having chem with them and their muses ! cause obviously I love the way our muses just work together when we write--- it just flows beautifully, I'm honestly thankful to have you as one of my fave rp partners on here, and it's an honor to write with someone as amazing as you, it's an honor to be able to call you one of my close friends, the fact the connection is still there just goes to show how strong our friendship was/ and still is.

I love you so much. Never change, and keep being amazing, and keep making me sob with our things or with yours and jen stuff. cause I love y'all so much. <3

[trashcanband4]

Therapy Sessions Ch. 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Pairing: Negan x oc (Kelly). Setting: The sanctuary. Warnings: ooc Negan. Word Count: 6,525

When Negan came back to her the next morning, instead of finding her awake and done with breakfast like usual, he found her still in bed. The covers were pulled up over her head to shade her face from the light coming in through the windows. He wanted to jerk the covers down and jolt her awake, but decided against it and sat down on the side of the bed and rubbed her shoulder. Kelly just grunted and turned away from him. “Come on, darlin’, time to get up. I didn’t bring you breakfast for it to go to waste.”

Kelly sighed and turned onto her back as she pushed the blanket down and glared at him. “Why do I find your voice so grating?” she asked, her voice raspy with sleep.

“You can get out of bed willingly or I can make you.” he told her with a smirk. She just rolled her eyes and turned away from him. So, he wrapped his arms around her and threw her over his shoulder, stood up then sat her on her feet and tossed the blanket back on the bed.

“Seriously?” she asked as she pushed her brown waves out of her face. “What does a girl have to do to be allowed to sleep in around here?”

"Be deathly ill, which you are not." Negan answered then pointed to the plate of food. "Eat."

"Sir, yes, Sir." She sighed sarcastically and sat down at the table eating her breakfast.

"I have to go." Negan told her as he walked over to the door and grabbed Lucille. "Don't go back to sleep."

"No promises." She mumbled around a bite of scrambled egg.

"Exercise. It releases endorphins and will help you feel better." He advised and she shot a look up at him through her lashes. He tossed Lucille over his shoulder then left the room.

She was sitting at the table drumming her fingers on it in boredom when Negan walked in and propped Lucille up by the door then plopped down in the dining chair across from her. "Hard day?"

"Long day." He corrected. "Have you had dinner?" He asked and she nodded yes.

"Good. So have I and I'm ready for bed." He stood up and started taking off his jacket.

"I know you're tired," Kelly started and Negan looked at her out of the corners of his eyes, "but sleeping in pants has been really uncomfortable. Is there any way I can get a pair of sleep shorts or something?"

Negan walked over to his dresser, grabbed a pair of soft cotton navy blue boxers, made sure there was a button on the crotch then opened up another drawer and grabbed a long sleeved white shirt. "Will these work for now?" He asked as he handed them to her.

"I didn't mean you had to solve the problem tonight." She told him as she walked over and took them from him. "But yes, they will, thank you."

She expected him to turn his back, but instead he just raised a brow with a cheeky smile. Not breaking eye contact with him she pulled the white long sleeved shirt over her head and pulled it down, took her arms out of the sleeves of the shirt she was already wearing and pushed it up around her neck then put her arms through the long sleeves of the exterior shirt. Impressed, Negan watched her grab the underlying shirt that was bunched up around her neck, pull it over her head and toss it into the dirty clothes hamper in the corner.

Since Negan was bigger than her his shirt was like a dress on her so she was easily able to slip off her pants and replace them with the boxer shorts without showing anything. "Touche."

After he slid in beside her under his own covers minutes of silence passed, both of them knowing that the other wasn't asleep. “So tell me about you and Markus. You said things got really ugly between the two of you?” Negan struck up a conversation.

“Yeah, after we lost our daughter.” She answered.

“Darcy?” he asked.

She nodded then remembered that he couldn’t see her in the dark room. “Yeah, after we lost Darcy we really started drifting apart. We didn’t talk about stuff. He refused to talk about Darcy. We’d sleep in the same bed, but it was like we were miles and miles away from each other. I was grieving, we both were, but we couldn’t do it together, he wouldn’t let us do it together. So…I…turned to someone else for comfort.”

“Daryl.” Negan added quietly, making her brows draw together.

“How’d you know?” she asked, looking at him, only seeing the outline of him in the dark.

“Pieces weren’t hard to put together. Plus I noticed that Markus seems to hold a personal grudge against Daryl.” He answered. “Did you fuck him?”

“No.” Kelly answered and turned her eyes to the black ceiling. “Daryl was just there for me when I needed him. He and I were sitting on the porch swing. I was crying and Daryl hugged me and wiped my tears.”

“Aww.” Negan cooed.

“Yeah well, Markus saw us through the window of our house across the street and assumed we were kissing.” She said with a bit of anger in her words. “Even though I told him a thousand times that we weren’t making out, still suddenly I became a whore, a slut, a cheating cunt… So when he yelled these things at me so much that I finally snapped and threw a snow globe at his head I became a psycho bitch. From then on out it was his favorite thing to call me. After that the bitterness grew. He started making up things that didn’t even happen, like I wasn’t at the house with Darcy because I was off screwing Daryl. Or I didn’t give a shit about Darcy all I cared about was Daryl. Everything got blamed on me and Daryl when nothing ever even happened between us.”

“Well, all of that makes sense. Markus was pretty mad at the world when he ended up here. But he calmed down when-”

“I don’t care.” She interrupted him. “I don’t care who he is now, what he does for you or even if he’s found someone else."

“Okay, understood.” His gravelly voice whispered. “Goodnight, Dead Girl.”

“Goodnight, Negan.” She whispered back and soon, both of them slipped off to sleep.

The next morning as she slowly woke up she started to realize that something was different. Scent was the first sense to awaken and the masculine fragrance of sandalwood and cinnamon invaded her nose. Her half asleep brain thought that maybe Negan had lit a candle before he left. But then her sense of touch woke and she realized that a heavy arm was thrown over her waist and a warm body was pressed into her back. That's when her ears joined the party and the quiet soothing snores she recognized as Negan's hit her. As she opened her eyes she saw that her blanket was gone and she lay under Negan’s.

"How the hell did this happen?" She thought to herself. "Why is he still here?" She thought and when she tried to slide out from under his arm it just gripped her tighter. So she decided that the best thing to do was to just try to go back to sleep. That way if she did fall asleep it would be Negan’s move, not hers.

She didn’t go back to sleep and instead laid there hoping with everything in her that Negan would wake up soon and let go of her. His warm hand was pressed into her flat stomach and she tried to not even think about the long hardness that was pressed into her rear. She couldn’t decide if she loved or hated the intense sensations his touch, even over her clothes, was sending through her body.

Finally, Negan’s breathing started to change and she felt his body reacting to their position as he woke up. First his arm tightened around her then the hardness grew harder making her squeeze her eyes shut and bite her lip to keep from having an audible reaction. Soon his hand on her shirt covered stomach slid up between her breasts then down to rest on her arm. Warm breath skimmed her neck as he brushed his nose along the soft skin. She had been hoping he would move away when he realized how they had been sleeping, but he was doing the opposite.

No doubt he was trying to get a rise out of her, but instead of giving him what he wanted, what she so badly wanted to give in to, she simply took in a deep breath as one would do when bothered in their sleep and rolled over to lie on her stomach. She was surprised when he actually let her and even further so when he brushed her sleep mussed hair out of her face, slipped the backs of his fingers down her cheek then rested his fingers on her neck as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

Unable to resist, a content sigh left her nose as her eyes opened, instantly finding Negan's hazels that seemed to be taking in every feature and detail of her face. When they met hers he gave her a sleepy version of his signature dimpled smirk and a small sleepy smile flashed so quickly on her lips he almost missed it. "Was that a smile, Dead Girl?" His voice was normally a little on the gravelly side, first thing in the morning it was even more so and it only added to the sensations his touch was sending through her. In response she simply looked down at his hand on her face then back up at his eyes, giving him a little squint of hers that almost dared him to do more.

Not one to turn down a challenge, but at the same time not wanting to push her too far, Negan simply slid his hand down her neck, over her shoulder, down her arm to grip her hip before slipping his hand under the shirt to grip the curve of her waist and pull her closer. Now, with just inches between them, she could smell the warm spicy scent of him again. It, combined with the feel of his hand caressing the bare skin of her back, had her light headed, as if she'd drunk just enough alcohol to get buzzed.

Her hand took on a mind of its own as she lifted it and placed it on his chest, slipping her fingers through his chest hair. Testing and tempting her, he brushed her nose with his, drawing her eyes from his chest back up to his. She didn't pull away. So slowly, giving her all the time in the world to pull back and say no, he moved his lips closer and closer to hers. Their lips had just barely brushed when a pounding came from the other side of the bedroom door. The unexpected sound made her jump and pull away from him.

Negan growled as he took his hand off of her, threw the covers to the side, stood up then padded over to the door. "What the fucking fuck are you banging on my door for?" Negan practically yelled at whoever was on the other side.

"Its 11 o'clock and no one has seen you. We were worried that your psycho hostage had murdered you in your sleep." She recognized Markus's voice right off the bat.

Hearing him call her a psycho she snapped. With more speed than she used in a long time she hopped out of bed and stomped over to the door. Seeing the fury in her eyes Negan stepped out of the way. Half a second later the back of her hand collided with the side of Marcus's right cheek so hard he fell, catching himself with the door frame to stay on his feet.

Negan looked between them with raised brows, eagerly waiting to find out what Markus was going to say to his ex-wife. "K-Kelly?" He asked, blinking at her in confusion as she glared up at him. "You're the psy-"

"Call me a psycho one more time and I swear to fucking christ I’ll break your fucking neck and never think twice about it." She warned.

Marcus looked to Negan. "Boss, you gonna let her talk to me like that?"

"Yeah." Negan answered with a smile.. "Because after all the shit she's told me you'll be fucking lucky if you only get the iron." Negan said coldly as he placed his hand on Kelly’s stomach and pushed her back as he moved to stand in front of her. Markus’s eyes got big as he looked at Kelly where she stood off to the side of Negan. “You want to know what I learned last night?” Negan asked and Markus turned his big blue eyes to Negan as he shook his head no. “That you failed to tell me that Alexandria existed. A secret that cost me a whole fucking outpost of people!" Even Kelly flinched at Negan’s raised voice. Negan look at the second man standing behind Markus that Kelly hadn't even realized was there, "Get him out of my fucking sight before I fucking gut him right here and now."

Markus made a fast retreat and Negan slammed the door. Kelly didn’t look at him, knowing she probably made things harder for Negan. Because of her Markus was going to get the iron, whatever that meant, and Negan was going to lose the trust in one of his men.

When Kelly didn’t say anything, Negan turned to her. His anger hardened face softened as he looked into her eyes. "Well, this has been an eventful morning." He sighed and sat down on the foot of the bed.

Kelly ignored his statement and moved to her side of the bed where she grabbed her covers off of the floor. As she folded it she took in his bare torso and the tattoos and freckles that peppered his skin. "What's the iron?"

"You'll see." He answered as he glanced over at her, catching the way she was observing him. He didn’t say anything, just smirked at her.

“So you’re letting me out of this room?” she asked not getting her hopes up, she might have misunderstood him.

“Those fuck me eyes you keep giving me and the pure rage I saw right before you slapped Markus was enough to earn you the privilege of seeing the show later." He wasn't going to mention that if she showed any emotion later it would earn her even more. She watched as he pulled on a white long sleeved shirt like the one she still wore then turned her back as he switched his pajama pants for a pair of dark pants and a belt. "I want you to get dressed, fix your hair and put on some of that makeup I brought you." He told her as he shrugged on his jacket.

She nodded at him as he walked out of the door. With him gone she got dressed then tidied up the room. She was putting his clothes she’d borrowed in a basket when a man walked in with a tray of apple and orange slices and a neatly folded stack of clothes. "Negan requests you wear these today." He told her and she watched silently as he sat the tray and a stack of clothes on the table then walked out. So she grabbed a piece of fruit and popped it in her mouth as she sat down and pulled the notebook and pen out of the bag that Negan had given her.

“Dear Diary,” she started, then stopped to pop another piece of fruit in her mouth. “I thought I liked it here at the sanctuary. For some reason Negan is treating me better than everyone else, and I like it, but last night I learned that Markus has been here the whole time he’s been gone from Alexandria. I liked it here because I had no ties to anyone other than Daryl who’s being held in a cell away from everyone. Now things are getting complicated. I’m starting to feel again. For the first time since Markus walked out I don’t feel numb. All I feel is hatred for him. The man I once loved more than anything else in the world, I now hate more than the walkers that plague the world.” She paused to eat a little more then picked the pen back up and skipped a line. “Then there’s Negan. I’ve thought he was attractive from the get go, but now I can’t stop looking at him and sometimes, all I want to do is jump his bones. I shouldn’t want him… He murdered Glenn and Abraham in cold blood. Strangely I get why he did it. We murdered a whole slew of his people and he only took two of ours. He probably would’ve only killed Abraham if Daryl hadn’t punched him. I don’t blame Daryl, he was just reacting to what was going on around him and he didn’t know that it would cause Negan to murder Glenn. I can see why Negan runs things the way he does. People can be stupid and fear is the only thing that can get through to some of them. Fear is the only thing that can control people.”

She skipped a line then continued writing. “Negan, for some reason, has decided to help me, I didn’t think it would work, I didn’t think I could care about anything ever again. But he is slowly breaking down my walls and I don’t know what to do. How do I let him help me and not fall for him? He has wives for god’s sake. He is a leader and a dangerous one at that. Getting even more involved with him could be dangerous for not only myself but the others back at Alexandria. I thought I didn’t care about them, but I do. I don’t want anyone to die, but Rick isn’t going to just go with how Negan runs things and he will get people killed.” She signed off on the entry and closed the book.

After finishing breakfast she braided her hair into two French braids that hung on each side of her shoulders then smudged on some eyeliner, coated her lashes in mascara then added a touch of the tinted lip balm. She had dressed in the new clothes and was putting away her things when Negan walked in. He gave her an appraising gaze taking in the black pencil skirt, black wedge heels, and red, sheer lace long sleeved shirt that she wore over a black camisole. The smirk he gave her caused a blush to color her cheeks as she placed her hand on her opposite arm self-consciously. He shut the door and closed the space between them and looked down at her with lust veiled eyes. She noticed them slip down to her soft lips, taking in the tiny glitter in the glossy balm. "That lip gloss have a flavor?" he asked, his voice quiet and gravelly.

She licked her lips making him bite his bottom one. "Vanilla."

"Good to know." He told her then backed up and opened the door. "You ready to get out of this room for a little while?"

She nodded and walked over to him where he motioned for her to walk ahead of him. So she did then let him lead her to a big room where they both stood on a platform above the people. After banging Lucille on the yellow bars people kneeled. “Do I kneel or stand?” she asked Negan quietly.

“You can stand, Sweetheart.” Negan told her, not whispering back. She turned her eyes to Markus who was tied to a chair in the middle of the room, next to a lit fire pit. “I just gave a speech about this shit last week.” Negan spoke loudly to the crowd. “I did not want to have to do this again.” He said as he started walking to the stairs and not knowing if she should follow she stayed behind. “But people keep breaking the rules. And again, why do we have rules?” Negan yelled.

“The rules keep us alive.” The crowd echoed back.

“That’s right. We survive, we provide security to others, we bring civilization back to this world. We are the saviors. But we can’t do that without rules. Rules are what make it all work.” Negan stopped on the stairs. “I know it’s not easy, but there is always work and there is always a cost. Here, if you try to skirt it! If you try to cut that corner!” Negan paused to laugh. “Then it is the iron for you.” Negan paused and let it all sink in before he said, “On your feet.” And everyone stood as Negan walked down the stairs.

As Kelly scanned the room she noticed a small group of women, dressed in fancy black clothing and heels with their hair done to match their upscale style. They were all giving her death glares. She assumed them to be Negan's wives.

"Kelly." Negan's voice drew her attention to him where he stood across from Markus. "Join me please." She walked down the stairs, hoping she wouldn't fall on her face considering it had been years since she'd worn heels. When she got close to her he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "What you're about to see is going to be gruesome. And Markus is most likely going to pass out before it's over. Is there anything you'd like to say to him before I get started?" She nodded so he stepped aside and motioned to her ex.

Kelly walked over to him, her heels against the concrete echoing around the silent room. Hate was clear in both of their eyes. "You…" she started pacing around the chair he was tied to. "I loved you with every...cell...in my being." She said, placing her fist over her heart at the memory. "But...that love is gone." She stopped walking and stood across from him, glaring down at him. "You starved it and stomped it so far into the dirt it couldn't see the light of day. Since that day that love has sat in that dark hole and festered into a raging hate," She walked over and leaned down, putting her hand on the back of the chair her nose almost touching his, "that burns so hot it is taking everything in me to not get that iron myself and burn that cold black heart from your chest." She stood up and turned her back on him. "Unfortunately, I have to assume that would get me into a world of trouble." She slipped her eyes up Negan's body to his eyes. "Correct?"

"Correct." Negan answered.

"So," She said with a sticky sweet, chipper voice as she whipped around and walked back over to Markus, "I'll have to settle for the satisfaction of watching whatever torture Negan has in store for you." She leaned down and whispered, "I hear it's going to be gruesome and honestly, I'm a little excited." She admitted with a smile and a wrinkle of her nose that Negan found incredibly adorable.

Markus looked at her with fear in his eyes as she walked back over to stand beside Negan. Finally Markus realized exactly what he had done to her, what he turned her into. Then it sank in that he was about to get the side of his face melted by a red hot iron.

"You done?" Negan asked with a smirk at her.

"That was a little long winded. I apologize." She told him quietly.

"Don't apologize, Darlin'." He told her as he stood up straighter. "This is a part of your therapy and honestly," he leaned over and whispered, "it got me a little excited." She bit her lips closed to keep from laughing. He passed her his baseball bat. "Keep Lucille company for me." He told her and she took it without hesitation. To keep the barbed wire from messing up her clothes she put the end of it on the floor between the toes of her shoes and rested her hands on the end of the handle.

She didn’t look at Markus, but instead watched as Negan put on a thick leather glove. “D.” he called and Dwight grabbed the red hot, old school iron out of the fire with a hook and handed it to Negan. “I’m sorry Markus, but you knew the rules. Secrets don’t make friends.”

Markus started breathing heavily through his teeth anticipating what was about to happen as Negan moved the iron closer and closer to Markus’s face until it made contact with his cheek and jaw. Markus screamed, never taking his eyes off of Kelly. Negan’s eyes were also on Kelly's, looking for a reaction. “Psychotic Bitch!” Markus yelled right before he passed out. All her face held was a smirk of triumph.

Negan removed the iron from his face, taking skin and meat with it. “Let Markus’s face be an everyday reminder to all of you and him that secrets are against the rules and will get you the iron in a heartbeat.” He called to the crowd then handed the iron back to Dwight. “He’s all yours Doc." Negan walked over to her, she picked up Lucille and he took it from her with a smirk. "Thank you, Darlin'." They walked in silence until they got in the room. “So, before I tied Markus to that chair we had a chat.” Negan started as she sat down on the end of the bed and he started taking his jacket off. “According to him you lied to me.”

“About what?” she asked, confused because she had never lied to Negan.

“He says that you did cheat on him with Daryl.” He said as he put his jacket next to her on the bed then pulled a dining chair up to sit across from her. “Now one of you is lying and I want to know who.”

Kelly sighed and rubbed at her temples. “I never slept with Daryl.” She answered, telling the truth. “Daryl was a listening ear and a good friend to me but it was never romantic. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe me, but I told you before and I will tell you again. I don’t lie. Lies only further complicate what's already complicated.”

“I believe you.” Negan told her, staring at her with appraising, judging eyes. “I know what a cheater looks like, I don’t see that quality in you.”

Kelly gave him a small smile that lasted for a split second. “You wanted to know when I started shutting down?” she asked and Negan nodded. “I thought it happened slowly, that I didn’t just break and shut down all at once, but I did. I broke the night he told me that I was the most disgusting person that he’d ever met and he couldn’t stand looking at the woman who let his children die for a second longer. I cried for a full twenty-four hours, hating him and hating myself, missing my children.” She sniffled and quickly wiped at her eyes, taking away the tears before they could fall. “After that I never shed another tear.”

Negan slowly blinked at her sympathetically seeing more signs of her starting to feel again. Not being able to stop himself, he placed his hand on her cheek and swiped a tear away with his thumb. She gave him a small, sad smile as she placed her hand over his, reveling in his touch, before she pulled it away from her face. “He’s a douchebag.” Negan said, making her glance up at him. “He deserved every bit of what he got today.”

“Yeah.” She whispered then looked back down at his hand. She stroked her thumbs over the back of his hand, thinking about how she’d never been attracted to someone’s hands before. At the moment all she wanted to do was put it back on her cheek and let him have his way with her. Instead she said, “Okay change of subject, you ever had a hand massage?”

“No.” Negan answered with a bit of a smirk that suggested she was weird for asking. “Why?”

“Because you did me a favor today, you gave me a break from this room and let me get something out that's been bottled up inside me for a very long time. I studied to be a manicurist before I settled down." She slipped her thumbs down his pointer and pinky fingers, admiring how long and slim they were. "We were taught how to give hand massages. I would very much like to give you one. They feel really good and it's the only way I can think of to say thank you.” she said as she flexed his wrist with one hand then slid her other one up it aligning their fingers with their palm pressed to his.

“Really, that's the only way you can think of to thank me?” He asked with a big grin that was suggestive as shit. She just rolled her eyes then looked up at him through her lashes. “If you insist, sure, but it will have to wait until after I get done with the daily bullshit.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket off of the back of the chair. She found herself admiring his body as it flexed from him shrugging on the jacket.

After he left she sank down on the bed then leaned back, trying to figure out how she was going to not fall for him, considering he was the only company she had, when a sound came from the door and she turned to see a white piece of paper slide under the door with her name written on it. Curiously, she walked over and picked it up. “Meet us in the room at the end of the hall tomorrow at three.”

She stared at it, contemplating if she would really meet them or not, but after bouncing back and forth between yes or no, she decided that the only thing she could do was show the note to Negan. He was the only person she could trust. Anyone could have put that note under the door.

After the sun had set Negan finally came back, a tray of food in hand. Tonight was a simple meal of mashed potatoes and a small pork chop. She was quiet and didn’t look at him as he took off his jacket and sat down at the table across from her. When he started eating she picked at hers. “You wanna tell me what you're thinking about so hard over there?” Negan asked around a bite of potatoes.

Katie reached into her pocket and pulled out the price of paper. He frowned at her as she unfolded it then slid it across the table to him. "This was slid under the door while you were gone."

He picked it up and looked at it then put it back down on the table. "Why did you show this to me?"

"Because secrets don't make friends, obviously." She answered using his words.

"Did you want to keep it a secret?" He asked. "Did you want to meet with them?"

"No, of course not." She answered as if the questions offended her. "Your people saw me today. The women in the black dresses, they're your wives, right?" She asked and he nodded. "They don't seem to like me. For all I know this could be from them. They might be trying to rid you of the woman who takes up all of your nights."

"You didn't see who left it?" He asked.

She shook her head no. "I was too scared to open the door and look." She admitted.

"You don't have to be scared. No one is going to hurt you." He assured her. "Finish eating before it gets cold."

When they were both done, Kelly cleaned everything up and set the tray outside the door. When she turned around her eyes landed on Negan taking his shirt off. She averted her eyes to the floor knowing he was about to put on his pajama bottoms. When she looked back up, Negan held a shirt and a pair of light blue plaid boxers out to her. She did the same as she had done the night before and changed without showing him anything.

As he poured himself a glass of water she grabbed the tube of lotion out of her bag and sat down in the center of her side of the bed, crossing her bare legs. When Negan turned around and looked at her she patted the bed for him to join her. “Right, hand massage, I forgot.” He sighed as he walked over and set the glass of water on the makeshift night stand then sat down on the bed in front of her, mimicking her sitting position.

When he didn’t willingly give her his hand she sighed and picked it up. She started by massaging the underside of his forearm then worked her way down to his palm where she massaged a bit then stopped to add lotion. As she worked she made it a point to not look at Negan’s face. It was particularly hard to not look up when she ran her thumb from the bottom center of his palm to the base of his thumb and a breathy moan left his lips.

“You were right, that does feel good.” He sighed and she smiled to herself.

“I figured you could use it, considering you carry Lucille around all day.” She said with a glance at the bat that he had placed in the corner of the room.

“Are you calling my leading lady fat?” Negan asked with a playful tone in his voice.

Kelly faked a dramatic gasp. “I would never.” She placed a hand on her chest looking shocked that he would ask her that.

Negan actually laughed at her and she couldn’t help but look up at the bright genuine smile on his face. He stopped laughing when she started massaging again and hit the center of his palm making a deep groan rumble his throat again. She would be lying if she said she didn’t get a little turned on at the sound. Other than the occasional moan from Negan, the room was silent as she finished up his left hand. When she started on his right she looked up at him again to see him looking at her with lust hazed eyes. “Fuck, sweetheart that feels fucking amazing.” Negan laughed loudly. An electric wave shot from her chest through her every limb then settled in her core.

“Yeah, that’ll convince people we’re not screwing.” Kelly giggled a little, not looking up from her work.

“Well I am hard as a fucking rock right now.” Before she could stop herself her eyes moved from his hand to his crotch to see that he wasn't lying. The truth was there, long, hard, curved and begging to be let out of the confinement of his jeans. He didnt miss that she actually looked. “You should do my cock next. It's obviously begging to get a taste of your talented hands.”

Her mouth went dry at his words and as much as she wanted to look at his face she kept her eyes down and kept massaging. “I’m gonna have to refer you to one of your wives for that particular massage.”

“Damn.” He sighed and Kelly smiled. “Well, can’t blame a guy for trying.” She didn’t respond and instead worked in silence, making sure to hit all the spots that got reactions out of him on his left hand. When she was done, she glanced at his watch to see that it was almost ten o’clock. So she dropped his hand and finally looked up at him to see him smiling at her with closed lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She told him with a small smile in return.

While he got up and washed his hands Kelly spread their blankets out, splitting the bed between them then tucked herself under her cover. He turned the light off then did the same. As she laid there thinking about how she felt about Negan, how he made her feel safe and how every touch from him sent sparks through her, making her feel alive for the first time in years, her hand slid to the center of the bed, bumping into Negan’s where it was already waiting for hers. His hand slid over hers, and flipped it so her palm was facing up then brushed his fingertips over her palm sending a shock wave through her. She thought he was just teasing her until his palm met hers and he laced their fingers together. "So about this morning..." He whispered, making her chest tighten. "Did you like being close to me?"

"I did." She answered, her voice nervous and shaky.

He sat up, pulled her blanket off and tossed it to the floor then tugged his over her. "Get over here." The gravel in his whispered words told her that resisting wasn't an option. Even if it was, she wouldn't have. So she turned her back to him and intended on scooting over, but he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She rested her head on his pillow that his arm that wasn't around her was under. She tried to even out her breathing as he slid his hand down her arm then grabbed her hand when he found it. "Tell anyone I like to cuddle and I'll personally kick your ass."

"Doesn't sound very threatening coming from a man who likes to cuddle." She joked without thinking.

"My point exactly." He whispered harshly.

"Yeah yeah, you got a reputation to protect. No worries, my lips are sealed." She whispered. "Besides, I'm pretty sure you couldn’t kick my ass even if you had cause to."

"Did you forget who you're talking to?" He asked, if it hadn't been for the hint of amusement in his voice she would've thought that she pushed too far.

"No, but I don’t think you know who you're talking to." She answered being cocky.

"Oh yeah?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah." She answered with a smile in her voice.

"We'll see about that." He laughed and she wished that she could see his dimpled smile, but it was pitch black in the room. "Good night, Dead Girl."

"Good night, Savior." She whispered then snuggled her head into his pillow and quickly drifted off to sleep.

[negans-crybaby-gangsta]

I have 15 chapters up. If anyone wants to read them on Wattpad. It’s a Negan X OC, in a AU. So you can read them there. Or I could publish them here if anyone wants to read them. My Wattpad is neganscrybabygangsta.

[to-pick-ourselves-up-7]

The Marks of Running Ink pt.83

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: so this only took me almost a year to complete??? Depression sucks. If you’re still around, what a champ! If you just got into this train wreck, welcome on board! I’M FINISHING THIS STORY!! We’re so close.

(gif credit) ••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  ••• 

War

The Hilltop, VA

“I want to speak to Negan” the woman said, not sounding that grainy from the walkie.

Of course, she wanted to speak to Negan, but Simon had no way to do that, right?

“Well, you’re speaking to Negan, the birth certificate says Simon, though.” He snarked at the Widow.

He hadn’t expected her to offer mercy, they didn’t need any fucking mercy. This was about the power and getting it right away.

They weren’t prepared for the rain of bullets, however.

It hadn’t been that gruesome, at least not the first round. Advancing inside the Hilltop had been too easy, he should have known that. The light of the buses had blindsided them and they were right for the plucking.

Running away had been pathetic, but Simon was relishing the idea of the people of the community realizing what would happen with the wounded. That was his consolation.

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Four days

Viv could see something was wrong.

Tory’s hand wasn’t shaking, but she seemed to be shaken, like something monumental had happened without anyone realizing. The young woman looked pale and drawn, and her lips were pressed in a fine line.  

“Let Danny do the heavy stuff, you can do some light pruning, but the whole other thing? Absolutely not. Let your wrist heal,”

They were alone, so, Vivienne locked the door while Tory allotted her painkillers for the sprained wrist.

“What’s wrong, Victoria?”

The young woman turned to look at her and Vivienne lifted her eyebrows to signal Tory should talk to her freely. Tory closed her mouth firmly and then pouted, as her eyes filled with tears; she opened and closed her mouth a couple times, trying to keep the tears at bay. It was useless, soon the tears rolled down Tory’s face, wetting their way down to her neck.

“I think I made a mistake,” the brunette sat heavily on Dr. Carson’s former chair.

Viv knew Vera’ assessment of Tory’s character, and she trusted the other young woman’s judgement. Tory didn’t like making mistakes, she hated the consequences of her errors, even when they didn’t directly affect her.

“Tell me. You know it won’t leave this room, honey,” Vivienne promised, softening her voice as much as she could, every day, Viv found more difficult to be access the softness that she used to have so close to the surface before things went…wrong.

Tory shut her eyes for a few seconds.

“I’m about sixteen weeks pregnant,” came the whisper.

In that moment, many different scenarios played through Vivienne’s head. Tory had once mentioned she didn’t really need birth control because she definitely could not get pregnant. That truth had come in one of the few moments she’d caught the girl smashingly drunk. Despite her age, Vivienne saw a girl too young for motherhood in a world where it meant danger.

Amy and Vera and Tory, all of them were way too brave for their own good.

“I don’t know what to say,” Vivienne blurted, still a bit shocked. “It’s Negan’s, I assume,”

A little nod served as answer.

“Well, is that the mistake?”

“No,” Tory wiped her tears away and opened her eyes. “I asked Negan to marry me for real, like it used to be…before,”

“Oh, Tory,” Vivienne bemoaned, knowing how hard Elle had it when trying to get Negan to compromise with her. “Oh, honey,”

“I know, okay? He made it very clear that my feelings are just mine to have,” Tory hissed defensively, trying not to raise her voice. “I just wish I could leave, that he’d let me go and…just be away from him,”

A deep frown set itself on Vivienne’s face as she gave Tory a dark look.

“Where would you go? Back to Alexandria? It must be a ruin now. The Hilltop…”

“Doveport,” Tory interrupted before clearing her throat. “They have a doctor, and Vera and her babies will need one,”

Acceptance bled into Vivienne’s mind as she thought of what could go wrong in a pregnancy like Vera’s, with two children instead of one. Viv knew something however; Negan would not let go of Tory, he might have implied that he didn’t love her like she suspected Tory did him, but that didn’t mean he’d be willing to part from her, much less if he knew… Viv didn’t believe Negan had been sincere when he said he didn’t love Tory.

“Does he know about…?” Vivienne gestured to Tory’s middle and the nurse shook her head. “Oh.”

Tory nodded tearfully. “And now he might never know, because he’s somewhere around, missing.”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

“Whatever happened here, I can smell it,” Negan rasped, looking at Jadis -that was her name- from his vantage point. The community-less leader ignored him as she poured a bucketful of salt in a wheelbarrow. She was preparing a fire and Negan knew something was about to happen. It was a mistake to promise to pay back what she’d lost and although he loved Lucille, he didn’t like his girl so close to his face, he could smell the dead blood all over it, despite Rick setting her on fire.

While Jadis was distracted looking for…whatever the hell she was looking for, Negan took his chance, pushing himself with his feet to get the gun and the flare the woman had left unattended. He would regret if he had to burn the pictures of the people she’d seemed to have lost, but he wanted out.

He needed to go back.

There was a familiar pain in his right arm but he ignored it in place of negotiating his way out of the sticky situation that he still had to make up for with Simon.

It was awful, having to drag Lucille -his real girl- into the conversation, he couldn’t even mention Elle, the pain was still too fresh, to close to the surface.

What he hadn’t expected of it all was the damned helicopter.

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

The room was not empty when Tory entered. Cecelia was standing in front of the window that oversaw the courtyard of the Sanctuary, there was something about the other woman’s disposition that made her uneasy, something not unlike fear curled in the base of her neck, telling her to go away.

To run.

Tory was distracted enough not to notice when Cecelia turned around, or the sneer of distaste that curled her lips when her dark brown eyes fell on Tory’s form.

“What are you doing here?” Cecelia asked.

Tory narrowed her eyes, trying not to blow whatever was tentatively happening between them.

“I should be asking that, you know Negan usually calls for us,” Tory said. She’d come here for something of her own anyway, right?

“Negan is dead, we’ve all heard that.” Cecelia said coldly.

“He is not dead,” Tory contradicted Cecelia, she would know that in the moment it happened. No matter what, she would know.

Then Cecelia did something that Tory was not expecting, she walked up to her and with gentle hands, she took Tory’s face between her hands.

“I know your little secret, Victoria,” the woman said sweetly. “I don’t know where, you’re good, but I know that somewhere in this skinny meat sack of a body, you’re bearing Negan’s soulmate mark.” A shudder ran down Tory’s back again. “and Simon will make sure that no one knows.”

Something clicked inside Tory’s brain when Cecelia mentioned Negan’s most trusted lieutenant. The slightly reverent, familiar way in which her voice had caressed Simon’s name…

“You’re cheating on him,” Tory whispered carelessly.

The slap was hard and Tory stepped back, reeling at the impact, unable to stop the smattering of her cheek, watching wide eyed as Cecelia’s face paled and transformed with horror, her usually rich brown skin looked ashen. Because Tory knew that Negan was alive, and if Simon failed taking over the Sanctuary, and Negan came back, Cecelia and Simon would pay for Tory’s discovery. She gained enough wit back to notice that Cecelia was advancing on her with a bottle of champagne in her hands, as if she planned to smash it against Tory’s head. She covered with her arms -damn, it hurt-and wrestled the bottle away from Cecelia, as they both fell to the floor with a loud thud. The bottle shattered, showering them with sweet sparkling wine and shards of forest green glass. Tory pulled herself away from Cecelia, who grabbed the bottle and scrambled without grace after her, with a scary looking bit of glass clutched in her hand.

And the fatal flaw was imminent, and Tory’s instinct to run battled with the one to stop Cecelia as she advanced.

Words caught in her throat as she saw.

Cecelia’s open toed, D’Orsay style shoes -her favorite kind- caught in the rug, making her stumble, Tory saw it happen as if it was a slow motion film, Cecelia’s free arm caught on the coffee table with a sharp crack, and the woman screamed as her body twisted in an odd angle, the wrist of the hand holding the glass must have failed her because it didn’t stop the impact either as Cecelia closed in on the floor, face first.

The spluttering sound as Cecelia gasped for air was familiar to Tory, the wet sound of her breathing and the patch of blood that grew on the rug made her eyes go wide and Tory knelt on the floor, turning Cecelia on her back. Her face had its own wide-eyed expression and she was trying to say something, but the blood was running too fast, her eyes grew dim and her lips slackened.

Dead, Tory registered in her mind. She’s dead.

Simon will kill me.

The notion of being killed made Tory move. With certain, firm motions, Tory grabbed the shard of glass from Cecelia’s hand. The bigger problem now was that it would take maybe five minutes for the corpse of the former wife to reanimate. Shaking and dripping with blood, Tory went to the bedside drawer where Negan kept pens and pencils. From there, she grabbed the one letter opener she’d seen him use once to cut a page from a book. Uncaring of procedure or niceties, Tory buried the letter opener in Cecelia’s skull, using the eye cavity of her left eye.

Those were the most insane minutes of her life at that moment.

Tory pushed the heavy furniture, still pumping with adrenaline, she also pushed the coffee table away from the rug and dragged Cecelia’s body to the edge of the rug; then cutting part of the black dress her corpse was wearing, Tory cleaned the mess of champagne and threw the glass and pieces of cloth in the rug, with the dead woman.

Rolling her along with the rug was a challenge on itself. Fortunately, the rug was tick enough to take most of the blood from the gory end of Cecelia’s life, and Tory breathed in relief when she moved the furniture back into place without a hitch.

Her left arm stung a little and Tory frowned at the words.

What the shit?

Lucas or maybe Chase, could help her with the heavy lifting of getting rid of the corpse.  

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Lucas and Chase exchanged glances when Simon talked to the people of the Sanctuary about everyone being Negan and what not.

Something about it was off.

They would know if he was dead, Tory would have told them, or maybe told Vera. Lucas paled and Chase frowned at his friend.

“What if he knows about Tory?”

And realization made Chase almost dizzy. Simon would go after her.

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Night had fallen faster than Negan expected. He had turned the headlights of the car on, uncaring of attracting dead ones or more unsavory things, like a little straggler from the fucking misfit group that Rick Grimes and the Widow were commanding these days.

But that was not what met him on the road.

Oh no, nothing like that.

He lowered the speed to a stop and turned the inside light of the car to better see.

“Jesus Christ…Holly hell,” he wheezed, feeling that his reaction was closer to numbness than the hysteria he should be feeling. “Chicken shit still wouldn’t look as shitty as you, get in,” he made a gesture and Negan relished the sour face that Laura made as she entered the car in a sulky silence. Her skin looked sort of burned and the leader of the Sanctuary wondered if they had anything for that at the compound. Tory had to know.

A grimace stole at his features.

He technically wasn’t speaking to her, wasn’t he?

“So, what the fuck happened? Because I think someone is trying to make a fool out of me, Laura, and I’m not going to let that shit fly.”

His lieutenant happily -if angry as well- explained in detail what had happened the night they had attacked Alexandria and how she’d discovered Dwight’s duplicity. Dwight and Simon had backstabbed him in different, gruesome ways, one more so than the other, but Negan knew how to exploit those betrayals.

Dwight would be useful.

Simon…Simon would have to be dealt with.

When they arrived at the gates of the Sanctuary, Negan smiled at the sight of the compound. It was mostly intact.

“Negan!” the overnight guard whispered his name reverently and he was happy at avoiding the scandal. “I knew it, I knew you were alive!”

Well, that made two of them.

“Hell yes, I am, but you’re not going to say a word, you understand?” the guard nodded. “Daddy’s home and is gonna be a surprise.” Anger, frustration and relief were crashing inside him. “Yeah, I got all sort of surprises to roll out.”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Roy Miller seemed dully surprised to see him, if the expression on his face was anything to go by. Negan didn’t care, but he knew the man would not say a word about his arrival, because his own daughter -to whom Roy wanted to make up to- would be relieved to know her soulmate was still kicking.

Or Negan hoped so.

If that was the idea his daddy-in-law had, Negan was not going to disabuse him of that notion. The man didn’t complain when Negan took over his bed and the little shower he commanded. It was a shame they were not the same size.

“Martha brought you some clothes from up there.” Roy said, handing him the bundle of clothes and going back to…whatever he was doing. Seemed like Roy was carving toys from blocks of wood. There was a little ugly car, and something that could have been a dog.

“Martha is always a blessing.” Negan muttered, getting into clean clothes felt like heaven after his ordeal. “What are you doing, Miller?”

“Toys for the kid.” He deadpanned, shooting him a look over the black rimmed glasses he was wearing.

Negan shrugged. “Well, then I’ll take over the bed,”

“Sure thing.”

Nothing else was said as Negan worked out the finer points of his plan. Roy would have to move some of the people, and he knew where he wanted whom and how.  

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Two days

The silence was tense in the war room. Negan was not one to dedicate himself to read the room, once he had a grip on authority, he dedicated himself to the consolidation of that authority, but right now, he could tell the emotions were fraught.

“I thought they killed you and that you were gone like,” Simon snapped his fingers. “like that.”

Lucille was receiving some tender lover and care from him, the smell of the polishing oil was relaxing amidst the stress everyone was experiencing, and as such, Negan took a few moments to clean his girl after the rough couple of days they had. He let Simon talk himself into whatever this was supposed to be.

“I lacked discipline and I made it personal, and that's why I moved things from infection to extermination at the Hilltop, yes. Things went bad, but I think it's possible we might've found ourselves in a similar tactical situation regardless of approach, we don't know that.” Simon went on, justifying his monumental fuck up. And that was just one. The other lieutenants were exchanging wary looks, Negan couldn’t fault them.

“So, I'll own it, so I just ask that you give me a pass on this one, I'll make it up to you, I promise you that.”

An involuntary chuckle escaped between his lips and Negan stood up. “I remember when I took this place. When you helped me take this place.” It was more like a legend at this point, the way in which Simon had managed to get rid of every male in that community.

“Wasn't sure I wanted to keep you on board. What you did to those men and boys in that settlement? Some people would take that as some psychotic shit, like that is the work of a tormented, broken god-damned ghoul.” Negan smiled as he stood right besides Simon, with Lucille in his hands, gleaming under the light of the overhead lamps. “like that's not some guy you wanna work with, let alone stand next to, so I figured I'd keep my eye on you. And I did, and everything seemed to work out right up until this point.” His expression stopped being friendly as he worded the order. “I'm gonna need you on your knees.”

If looks could kill…The look Simon directed at him would have blown his brains out all over the table of the war room, but his right-hand man did kneel. Deciding he’d provoke the man a bit more, Negan asked:

“You'll make a move or is that it?”

“No move to make.” Was Simon’s steely answer.

Good.

“No, there isn't. All is forgiven, get your ass up, we're good.”

Simon got up with a determined expression, he seemed subdued.

Bullshit.

“I won't let you down, not you.” he promised.

“I appreciate the fuck out of that.” Negan said smoothly, directing his attention to the lieutenant he’d tasked with the markings of the strategy map.

There were eleven locations circled around the ‘x’ that represented the Hilltop.  

Negan explained the plan, how they would circle the Hilltop and what they would do as soon as someone tried to leave the farming community. What Eugene was doing and how it would benefit them in the long run. No one questioned what would be done and the how, just as it should be.

Once he was done, Negan ordered everyone out…

“Except for you Dwight. Got a few things we need to kick around.”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Negan had the upper hand.

He knew it, and yet, he felt like something was wrong. He had said nothing when Roy Miller checked his injuries with critical, familiar eyes, his jaw set.

“Where’s your daughter?” he asked.

Roy sighed.

“Hiding, turns out one of your wives was cheating on you and tried to kill my kid,” the man said. “You have a certain talent to get women who would rather see you dead,”

“Not all of them,” he complained.

“Don’t I know,” Miller growled. “Tory would do well to stay the hell away from you, but she’s stubborn like her mother.”

“Gave you trouble, did she?” Negan asked.

“Erin loved our daughter to the point of stupidity,” Roy sighed, relieved for not having to stitch anything. “She became overprotective from the moment we found Tory’s marks.”

That got his attention. “When was this?”

Roy smirked. “The day she was born. You had some bad fucking timing. I promised Erin that Tory would never be with you, unless I died first.” A dry laugh filled the space and Negan frowned. “Our little girl got herself involved unwittingly, with the worst asshole ever and went to fall for him.”

They stared at each other, it was eerie, the way in which Roy Miller looked at him, like he was studying him. Negan didn’t like it.

“Victoria was always like that, giving everything for those she loved, I’m afraid she’ll do that for you and I will lose her, just like her mother.”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

One day

It wasn't a big group.

But it was enough to cast doubts on his leadership, and Negan had to admire Simon for his daring. The hypocrisy of his words from just the previous day? Priceless.

It was a waste. And he would end that shit.

"Thank you D, I'll take it from here," he said, walking into the fray from behind the dumpster. "three, two, one," bullets rained down on them with extremely satisfying accuracy.

The group was no more and it was good thinking about protecting Dwight, Simon charged for the scrawny man without hesitation. He was unhinged for just a few moments, but it was enough.

"There's the Simon that I know, coming right at ya', instead of that back-stabby bullsith." Negan remarked, knowing it would irk his former man.

"Why? After all he did to you? Why do this?" Simon growled the question at Dwight, wanting to know the reason as if it wasn’t evident.

"He'd win." Dwight answered flatly. Negan grabbed Lucille qieht both hands and crushed the skull of the traitor he had closest to him.

"You killed all the garbage people, Simon, after I specifically told you not to do that shit!"

The pulp of bone, brain matter and blood didn’t give Negan satisfaction. It was a waste, even if it felt good, even if it took him more physically effort. "But after all this, and me being me, we're still gonna give you your shot,"

The baffled expression in Simon’s face lasted a few seconds and Negan smiled.

"You wanna be the man? you gotta beat the man, you can do that? Hell, you should be the man."

••• ••• •••

Every soul on the Sanctuary was called in. The silence was dense like a heavy blanket and in the circle, right in the middle, Negan and Simon were glaring at each other.

Fractured, no longer a team.

A leader and his right-hand man.

"Everyone, after this is done, we get to work, just know that I didn't want this, but the Sanctuary must stand," Simon exclaimed theatrically. "this is not the man to prosecute this conflict," he paused, looking at Negan with accusatory eyes. "Just wanted to say a grateful..." he trailed off and Tory gasped when he got the first hit with a wide swing, “thank you.” and the next, and the next.

Negan's first hit was definitely ineffective, he'd almost deflected the tackle like push and used his elbow to hit Simon's back, and Tory wanted to strangle Negan herself.

What was he thinking?!

Simon decked him in rounds of three. To the neck, to the head, to the cheek.

The familiar way in which Negan moved reminded Tory of a greco-roman wrestler and she felt like screaming.

This was his life hanging on the fucking line, not some sports practice!

It was also her life, the life of their child!

Strong arms were keeping her at bay and Tory found Lucas' wide, fearful eyes. He was trying to keep her out of sight.

“If Simon wins, you go, okay?” Tory shook her head. “The fuck you won’t!” Lucas hissed.

The lull on the fight lasted only a few seconds and Tory almost felt relief when Negan finally threw Simon to the ground, kicking his ribs and his head.

"You went for it all at Hilltop, you got Saviors killed, and then you ran away like a coward!" Negan was not shouting, but the silence was so absolute, everyone could hear him. The only thing disturbing the silence were Simon's gasps and desperate pants for air as Negan crushed his throat.

"You got shown up one too many times, those people's gonna know that there's a loophole, a way to escape!" he was angry, furious, Tory could feel the anger boiling inside her, as if it were hers. "They're always gonna be looking for the chance to fight back, and NOW I GOTTA KILL ALL OF THEM! JUST LIKE I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Simon’s neck snapped loudly, with a whip-like sound under Negan’s hand, larynx crushed due to applied, pure effort.

The silence was deafening after.

Negan clapped his hands as if cleaning them, he panted a little bit and then…

After the initial shock had passed, the notion invaded his brain. This fucker had tried to kill him.

"What an asshole."

•••   •••   •••   •••   •••

tag list: @negans-network​

[band--psycho]

Negan x OC-She’s Mine(Part 1)

Warning: smut (there will be more of it later on) and language

“Jesus fuck, Red,” Negan sighed as he collapsed on the side of the bed next to me. I chuckled, running a hand through my hair, also trying to catch my breath.

“If we keep going like this, I don’t think I’ll need my wives anymore,” Negan chuckled.

“I wouldn’t let them hear you say that,” I replied, slowly sitting up.

“Seriously doll, you’re something fuckin’ else,” he said, leaning up to place a kiss on my lips.

“I need to go,” I said between kisses.

“No you don’t,”Negan argued, placing kiss along my neck.

“Yes, I do I’ve still got some work to do before the run,” I answered, trying not to moan as he reached the sweet spot on my neck.

“You know, you wouldn’t have to do any of those of those things if you just agreed to be my wife,” he stated, kissing down my chest.

“You could stay here all day, and then we could fuck whenever and wherever we wanted to,” he continued, leaving a hickey just above my breast.

“Negan…”I moaned, trying to push him away slightly.

“You know I’m right, baby girl, just accept it,” he whispered in my war as his hands began to wonder around my body.

“Negan, stop..” I moaned, pushing him away harder.

“You’ll give in eventually, doll,” He sighed with a smirk on his face.

“Maybe I will, but not yet,” I said, beginning to put my clothes on.

“Uh, uh, these are mine,” he said, picking up my pink panties, I just rolled my eyes chuckling slightly as I did so.

“You’re so fucking weird Negan,” I stated, putting the rest of my clothes on.

“You fuckin’ know it sweetheart,” he chuckled, winking at me.

“Now, get that sexy ass moving before I have to punish you for being late for your jobs,” I nodded quickly, placing a kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you later on then,daddy,” As I said those words I heard him groan as he slapped my ass.

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Red,” He mumbled against his lips.

“Now go, before you start something that’ll make us both late,” he continued, giving me a gently push.

And with that I left.

Negan and I had a somewhat complicated relationship. He found me. Well, he saved me; I’d just lost my group..and my husband in a walker hoard. I was a wreck and part of me didn’t want to live anymore. I was standing in front a walker when he found me, the walker took me down and I didn’t eve try to stop it, but Negan did, he smashed its head in with Lucille and then he took me back to the Sanctuary.

Most nights I’d end up going to his room just to talk to him. And then after awhile it just became a sort of tradition, especially when a load of people from a Sanctuary outpost were killed. Negan was distraught, but more than anything he felt guilty; that was the first time he opened up to me about what he was feeling. And from then on we just closer.

One night, we’d both been drinking, and one thing led to another..and since then we’ve been like fuck buddies, but he keeps asking me to be his wife. And I would. But I’ve met his wives..and I don’t think I could handle being around them all day, every day, not to mention the fact that I’d been married and if I was going to do it again, I’d want to be his only wife, and everyone knew Negan would never get rid of his little haram.

~~~~~~~~~~

I walked out of the doors to the vans and cars ahead , today we were going to a community called Alexandria, Negan had “run” into a group of them last week and killed two men that were there, as much as I hated Negan killing people, I understood why he did it, wwe lost a lot of people because of this group. It was pay back.

So, like all the local communities, Negan made a deal with them, half a supplies, every week.

“Ah, there she is,” Arat said,as she flung her arm round my shoulder.

“Hey,” I said, smiling.

Arat was the first person, other than Negan that I grew close to. It’s thanks to her that I became a Saviour. Between the two of us constantly asking Negan if I could be one, we wore him down and reluctantly let me. And he didn’t mind it all to much in the end, especially when it meant we could fuck on runs.

“Thought we were gonna have to leave without you,” Arat said.

“Sorry, I was in the shower,” I explained.

“Well, where the fuckin’ hell was my invite?” I chuckled as I saw Negan walking towards us.

“Must’ve gotten lost in the post,” I answered,causing Arat to chuckle.

“Very fuckin’ funny, Red,” he said, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s move out!” He bellowed, and with that we all got into a car, heading to Alexandria.

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

When we arrived at Alexandria, Negan acted his normal Negan self, full of curse words and sarcasm.

The people there didn’t look how I thought they would. They didn’t look like they could kill all the people at the outpost; but then again, I guess anybody can be a killer..their leader, I think his name was Rick, he didn’t look like I thought he would either. He looked scared. Terrified. Broken. Part of me almost felt sorry for him, but then I remembered what he’d done, what he’d got other people here to do, and the sympathy I had for him faded.

Arat and I were just coming out a house when we saw Negan with Rick, and to my surprise Rick was holding Lucille, I assumed it was one of Negans little games, and it seemed to be working. Rick looked lost.

“Ladies,” Negan said, nodding to the two of us. Both of smiled back at him.

“Arat mind looking after Rick here, while I take Red?” Negan asked.

“No problem boss,” Arat answered, winking at me as she left with Rick.

“So, darlin’ what do ya think,” Negan asked, placing his arm around my waist.

“It’s nice, reminds me of those real estates back home,” I answered, and he nodded.

“There’s a lot of houses here, y’know? Negan whispered to me and instantly I knew what he wanted.

“Do you always think about sex?” I chuckled.

“Oh, darlin’, don’t act like you don’t love it,” He said, squeezing my hips softly.

“You are ridiculous!” I said sighing.

“You’ve always known that, Red,” he said, using his other hand to lift my chin up to look at him.

“C’mon baby,I’ve been imagining fucking you in all these different houses,” he said lightly kissing me.

“All the different surfaces,” another kiss.

“All the different positions,” and another kiss. And I sighed in defeat.

“Is that a yes?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I answered, and that all too familiar smirk crept onto his face.

“Yes, what?” he asked, and I instantly blushed, and inwardly sighed.

“Yes,daddy,” I whispered.

“Good girl,” he whispered against my lips as he pulled me towards a house. We were just about to go in when a voice caught both of our attention.

“What are you doing? Your men have already searched this house,” the woman said, clearly distressed by the whole situation; and then a man came up behind her and I couldn’t help the breath that hitched in my throat, and he had a similar reaction when he saw me.

“Y/N?” He asked, walking closer to Negan and I. I could feel Negans eyes on me, expecting an explanation, but I didn’t trust my voice. Not even Negan knew my real name. He just started calling me Red because of my hair and it just stuck.

“You...you died..”I said, my voice barely above a whisper, as I stared at him, expecting him to vanish at any second.

“I looked for you...I thought you’d..” He began, his voice shaking as he did so.

“Red? Who the fuck is he?” Negan asked, looking between the two of us.

“He’s..he’s my husband..Jake,” I said to him.

“Your fucking husband?” Negan asked again, shocked.

“Y/N/N, what are you doing with him?” Jake asked, continuing to get closer.

“Y/N/N, he’s a monster.” Jake stated, I could see the anger building in Negans eyes.

“Come on,” Jake said, lightly pulling on my hand.

“Hey!” Negan said, snapping back to reality, stepping between the two of us.

“You don’t fucking touch her!” Negan continued.

“She’s my wife! And I want to talk to her!” Jake countered.

“Negan, it’s fine,” I said, trying to calm him and the situation down.

“Doll….don’t,”He warned and I sighed.

“Go in the house,”Negan said gritting his teeth. I knew better than to push him when he was like this, so I did what he said. A few seconds later Negan came into the house.

“Well, looks like we need to have a little fucking chat,sweetheart,” Negan said, sitting on one of the chairs, the fire of anger still clearly burning in his eyes.

Tag list: @neganandblake @you-a-southpaw-doll @glicabhainn00

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 76

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: Maggie persuades Gregory to make a deal. The Alexandrians get to work. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; reference to mass murder; jealousy; flirting; making out; Abraham’s odd selection of words; innuendo; conspiring to kill a bunch of people; community discussions; someone let Rick give another long speech; I mentioned Daryl’s feet……..; moral conflict/contemplation; cuddling; manipulating walkers

Chapter 76 - Half

It took Gregory a few days to come around, but Maggie was persuasive. Either that, or he was simply a perverted coward who much preferred sacrificing half of their supplies for their safety. Iris considered for a moment that their deal wasn’t much different to the one they’d struck with the Saviours. But at least they weren’t threatening to cull their people for the food. 

Meanwhile, the mud puddles dried up and they moved the RV into the walls of the Hilltop, Jesus starting to organize the loading of supplies into the RV. It felt odd to Iris to see so much fresh food in one place. A place that wasn’t a grocery store.

Rick, Daryl and Abraham cornered the man who’d been delivering supplies to Negan with Ethan. He introduced himself as Andy, and none too kindly. They very politely asked him to brief them on the Saviour’s compound in order to recover their man, Craig. He agreed to come with them, reluctantly. 

Iris grabbed a basket of potatoes from a picnic table, Jesus coming up and grabbing the last thing, a tub of linens that contained various vegetables from their gardens.

“You have room for one more? I mean, we’re talking about righting the world, here.” He asked. Iris cracked a smile.

“Sounds fitting, Jesus.” She replied. He smiled back. 

“Plus, you still have my knives.” He added. Iris pursed her lips.

“I don’t know, I might just add them to my collection.” She proposed with a shrug. He raised an eyebrow.

“Seems like you have enough to spare.” He replied.

“You can never have too many knives.” She retorted. He scoffed, chuckling. She jerked her chin at the cupboards in the RV as they stepped up into the vehicle, depositing their supplies. “They're in the cupboard there. I’m sure you could swipe them pretty easy, but you might as well tell Rick you’re gonna take them back. He’s not used to more than one knife-wielding lunatic running around.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jesus nodded, smiling before he walked back out to find Rick. 

Iris stepped down through the door after him, only to be slammed up against the wall of the RV, her wrists pinned beside her head. She almost lost her cool until she felt the familiar searing press of Daryl’s lips on hers, practically melting into his hold. He pressed against her even as he pulled away, a serious expression on his face.

“Really?” Iris asked, feeling the jealously pouring off of him in waves. He said nothing, answering her with another deep kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips before dipping inside. His hands loosened their grip on her wrists, instead groping at her hips and waist, hers finding purchase on his chest.

“Could you two find some place less obnoxious to swap salivary samples? Gonna tip the damn RV over, you’re petting so heavy.” Abraham grumbled, following Andy as they walked by. Iris and Daryl parted, the latter flushing crimson and hiding behind his long hair. Rick snickered as he and Jesus went back to their conversation near the picnic table. 

“Keep it in your pants, Dixon.” Iris breathed, sounding much more enamoured than she meant to. Daryl gave her some side eye, and despite the furious blush across his cheeks, managed to look her up and down hungrily. Though, when he met her gaze again he flushed deeper, turning away bashfully.

“Put a damn sack over your head or something.” He mumbled, checking to see that there was no one in the RV before ducking inside to adjust his pants. Iris sheepishly meandered over to Michonne, who was smirking with her arms folded across her chest.

“Nothing like a good necking session before going to kill a bunch of people.” She remarked, chuckling at the face Iris made.

“Gotta get the blood flowing somehow.” Iris said with a half shrug, smiling. 

-

Iris was still squealing over the sonogram photo Glenn and Maggie had received from Dr. Carson,  their little bean healthy and strong thus far. The RV pulled to a stop once they’d returned safely to Alexandria’s gates, parking outside the pantry to deposit their new inventory of food supplies. Aaron and Sasha walked up to greet them, Rick asking for Olivia to inventory what they brought. 

“I need everybody at the church in an hour.” Rick added as more people gathered. 

“What is it?” Sasha asked.

“We’ll talk about it.” Rick assured, waving her off. Sasha made a face, walking off to find Olivia.

“Rick? What’s going on?” Carol asked quietly as she stepped toward the RV.

“We’re gonna have to fight.” He murmured. Her lips pressed together in a thin line and she nodded, though her gaze faded elsewhere. 

Every Alexandrian was soon summoned to the church where they could all be housed and Rick could make an announcement. Iris and Daryl stood by patiently as he explained what had happened, this new community they’d discovered and befriended. And the enemy on their doorstep. But he had yet to drop the bomb.

“And we can work with the Hilltop.” Rick explained. “Maggie hammered out a deal. We’re getting food— eggs, butter, fresh vegetables. But they’re not just giving it away. These Saviours, they almost killed Sasha, Daryl and Abraham on the road. Now sooner or later, they would have found us, just like those Wolves did, just like Jesus did. They would have killed someone or some of us. And then they would try to own us. And we would try to stop them. But by then, that kind of fight, low on food, we could lose. This is the only way to be sure, as sure as we can get, that we win. And we have to win. We do this for the Hilltop, it’s how we feed this place. This needs to be a group decision. If anybody objects, here’s your chance to say your piece.”

There was a long beat of silence before one of the pews creaked, everyone turning to watch Morgan stand and speak.

“You’re sure we can do it?” He asked quietly. “We can beat them?”

“What this group has done, what we’ve learned, what we’ve become, all of us… yes, I’m sure.” Rick confirmed. Morgan nodded.

“Then all we have to do is just tell them that.” He proposed, his voice taking on a desperate tone.

“Well, they don’t compromise.” Rick replied. 

“This isn’t a compromise!” Morgan stated. “It’s a choice you give them. It’s a way out, for them and for us.”

“We try and talk to the Saviours, we give up our advantage, our safety.” Rick shook his head. “No, we have to come for them before they come for us. We can’t leave them alive.”

“Where there’s life, there’s possibility.” Morgan stated firmly, as if he was quoting someone.

“Of them hitting us.” Rick retorted.

“We’re not trapped in this!” Morgan said, exasperated. He looked around at everyone. “None of you are trapped in this.”

“Morgan,” Rick argued, looking him in the eye, the strain in his voice coming from mourning. “They always come back.”

“Come back when they’re dead, too.”

“Yeah, we’ll stop them. We have before.” Rick shook his head again.

“I’m not talking about the walkers.” Morgan said lowly. There was another long beat of silence before Rick turned back to everyone, taking a deep breath.

“Morgan wants to talk to them first.” He announced. “I think that would be a mistake, but that’s not up to me. I’ll talk to the people still at home. I’ll discuss it with people on guard now, too, but who else wants to approach the Saviours, talk to them first?”

“What happened here,” Aaron started, standing abruptly, “we won’t let that happen again.” He looked to Morgan, shaking his head. “I won’t.” Morgan nodded his understanding and Aaron sat back down. 

“Looks like it’s settled.” Rick stated when no one else stood. “We know exactly what this is. We don’t shy from it, we live. We kill them all.” There was a heavy silence blanketing the group as the words settled. No one was comfortable with this, but life wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows these days. “We don’t all have to kill,” Rick continued, “but if people are gonna stay here, they do have to accept it.” He gave Morgan a look as he stepped down from the dais, striding out the doors. 

-

Iris’ heart sat heavy in her chest that night. She sat on the bench in the bay window of their bedroom, looking out into the sea of comfort that was her night sky. She lost count long ago, soon after the turn, but it didn’t make the growing number any easier to stomach. These Saviours were bad people… weren’t they? Did that justify taking their lives? How many of them would meet their ends at the point of her blade?

“Whatcha thinking about?” Daryl asked as he strode into the room, shucking his dirty boots off next to hers at the foot of their bed. He padded toward the window and she hugged her knees into her chest, making room for him on the bench. She looked over at him as he sat down, tilting his head. Her eyes were glassy.

“How many?” She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Sixteen.” He answered unflinchingly, sighing softly. 

“Does it bother you?” She asked. He nodded slowly.

“Every day.” Was his answer. Iris was simultaneously satisfied and unsatisfied with that response, but she nodded anyway. Her gaze faded away as she looked back at the sky, tracing the outline of Cassiopeia. He shifted, poking her in the leg with his foot. “Hey.” She turned back. “Do you want to stay?”

And that was the dreaded question Iris was afraid to ask herself. How many was too many? When did she decide who would be last? Rick gave Morgan the filthiest look for wishing to stay behind. What did that make her, if she left her friends to go deal with their problem without her? The lives would still be lost, it would still be because of them, and she would be no better of a person, just maybe guiltier that she stayed behind.

“No.” She decided. “It’s up to all of us.” Daryl hummed in agreement, shuffling to his feet. Iris let out a small squeak as he hooked his arms underneath her legs and shoulders, carrying her gently to their bed and placing her on her preferred side.

“Hey.” He murmured again, sitting at her side and looking down at her. “I got you.”

Iris felt her face flush as she tugged him into bed with her, slipping her arms around him as he hugged her to his chest. 

-

“Describe it.” Rick asked, looking at Andy, who was holding a blue marker over a stack of printer paper. He started to draw, not well, but good enough.

“Rectangular building, big satellites on it.” Andy sighed, sketching idly.

“Any windows?”

“I don’t remember any.” He shrugged, tapping a doorway he drew with his finger. “I think they made it so there’s only one way in.”

“Guards outside?” Rick pressed.

“Yeah, two of them at least.”

“And you don’t know how many people they have?” Michonne murmured. Iris bit her lip, staring daggers into the piece of paper as Andy drew in a few x’s to mark guards.

“No,” He paused, fry creeping into his tone as he hesitated. “Uh, I mean, no. I saw a place where they stored food. It wasn’t that big, so…”

“You’ve been inside?” Iris asked, looking up with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. They had us load in supplies one time.” He nodded. Glenn pulled out a secondary piece of paper, slapping it over his initial drawing.

“Here. What do you remember?” Glenn prodded, pointing to the page. Andy began to draw again, huffing. One, singular hallway, a small room off to the side functioning as a pantry. A second hallway connected, but nothing past there.

“You didn’t see any other room?” Maggie asked, pursing her lips.

“No, it’s a big place. This is the hallway I saw.” Andy replied. “There is more.”

“And every time, they had you bring things into here?” Michonne asked, pointing to the pantry on the map. Andy sighed, wiping a hand down his face. 

“Jesus.” He muttered. “We brought a couple spears for them. Two of the Saviours took them down this hallway. Now, they must’ve done something with them because they didn’t come back with them.”

“Maybe a weapons locker, an armoury.” Jesus suggested. 

“Okay.” Andy said under his breath, scrawling the word across the paper to wherever that hallway led. 

“We get in there, secure the armoury, that’s how we end it.” Glenn declared, looking up at everyone. 

“That’s how Carol ended it here.” Maggie nodded. Daryl stood with one hand brushing across his facial hair, the other tucked underneath to keep from fidgeting more. 

“But we don’t know if they have an armoury or where it even is.” Andy protested, looking up at everyone. 

“Well, we’ve got a lot of good guesses.” Daryl pointed out. “We’ve done more with less.” Rick nodded his agreement.

“We go in at night while they’re sleeping.” He murmured. 

“The guards won’t be sleeping.” Andy said, appearing utterly defeated. Iris raised an eyebrow again.

“Duh.” She stated, blinking slowly. He looked up at her, flushing red with embarrassment. “If there’s only one way in, like you said, we clear the door before we wake the rest of them.”

“How do we do that?” He asked. 

“We don’t need to.” Rick replied confidently. “They’re going to open it for us, let us walk right in. They want Gregory’s head, right? We’re gonna give it to them. 

-

When they had gathered everyone who would be participating, they set off in the RV once more with a couple tail cars. Andy informed them when they were the majority of the way there, hidden by a large crop of trees and a few rusted cars left to the elements on the shoulder of the highway. 

Rick stopped the RV and they filed out, mentally preparing. They laid on the horns for a moment to call out the walkers in order to clear the area. Hopefully they could minimize gunfire, but some was inevitable. For now, they would scope the place out, do some rounds.

“Aaron, Rosita!” Rick called, waving everyone forward. “You start here. We’ll peel off every quarter mile, meet back here in a couple hours, see what we got.”

Iris and Daryl climbed out of the small car at the back of the line, Daryl checking their six as the others peeled away into the woods and the fields surrounding them. He stared for an extra minute down the road behind them, gaze far away. His eyes were tired, his tight expression only falling when no one was around to witness. No one except her.

“Hey.” Iris murmured, tugging lightly on one of his belt loops to pull his attention away from the swirling thoughts inside his head. He blinked, turning toward her and loosening the white-knuckle grip on his crossbow. “Where are you?”

“Home.” He murmured, pressing a quick peck to her forehead, her lips curling upward. He blinked slowly, each exhale like a sigh.

“What’s up?” She asked quietly. He pondered, taking a deep breath as he stared into her eyes.

“Can’t decide whether or not I’m glad you’re here.” He admitted, half-shrugging. When Iris began to frown, he elaborated. “Just want you to be safe. Saviours don’t fuck around.”

“Well, neither do we.” Iris countered, offering a confident smile. His lips quirked upward and he nodded his agreement. She poked him in the arm. “Hey, you got me, right?”

“Always.” He replied immediately, his brows knitting together. 

“Then I got you.” She said simply, weaving her arms around his waist. His smile settled and he buried his face in the top of her head, pulling her close. She reached around to her back pocket, pulling out a cigarette and her lighter, cracking a smile. “Smoke?”

“Knew I kept you around for a reason.” He murmured in relief as she put the cigarette between his lips. 

“For the cigarettes?” Iris asked, lighting it for him as he took a long drag. He passed it to her and she leaned in, Daryl breathing the smoke into her mouth through a deep kiss. They pulled back and she blew out a soft cloudy ring.

“And some other things.” He nodded, taking the cigarette back from her as Rick called them all back. Iris smiled, lacing her fingers through his as they walked toward the group.

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

@hayley1998

@negansbestie

@lizey-thornberry

[walker-bait-1973]

8 Years Part Three

Part Three of the ongoing series with Daryl Dixon x Sybil Tremont (OC) Fanfiction

Background information: It’s assumed the reader knows the world of TWD. This Fanfic takes place after Alexandria, Hilltop, Oceanside, and the Kingdom are established and at the height of success. Carl is dead. The communities are bound by a doctrine created by Michonne. Rick is presumed dead. Daryl and Michonne never lost hope and searched for several years for Rick without luck. Daryl had a short relationship with Leah. The Saviors disbanded with Negan in a jail cell in Alexandria. The Whisperers have been defeated, and Lydia is a valued member of the Hilltop homestead.

18+

Warnings: Typical TWD Themes, Swearing, Drugs, Angst, Slow Burn

Masterlist

Part Two

Chapter 15: Walls

Just when Sybil didn’t think Ryder could take much more, the three came upon a small town.

“Nearly there,” Daryl said after a night of quiet. Everyone including him was depleted. Ryder perked up and squeezed his mom’s hand.

“Hear that? Almost there!”

“That’s great,” she tried to muster enthusiasm and continued to look down at her feet, forcing one foot in front of the other. With every step, the job became more laborious, and she had to finally stop. Her wound was throbbing, and her body dragging. Dog barked to grab Daryl’s attention.  

“Come on Mom… Daryl said we’re almost there… just a few more steps, please.” The boy looked desperately at Daryl who put Sybil’s arm over his shoulders and supported her encouraging her to keep going.

“C’mon girl… one more road. Look…” he pointed ahead. Sybil lifted her head with exertion and saw a tall metal wall in the distance.

“Walls,” she whispered.

“Just like I told ya.”

Sybil looked to her right, “Ryder… stay close.”

“I will,” he moved up and the three managed to make it to Alexandria’s gate.

Chapter 16: Open the Gate

From the guard tower landing, Michonne called down to Rosita, “Open the gate! It’s Daryl!”

Slowly the gate slid open. Rosita saw the strangers with Daryl and before she could ask he said, “Gotta get her t’ Siddiq. Ryder, c’mon…”

Rosita shut the gate while Father Gabriel supported Sybil on the other side until they arrived at the clinic. Siddiq opened the door when he heard Daryl yell.

“What’s going on?” Siddiq asked, “Lay her over here…”

Daryl swooped Sybil up onto the exam table while Daryl explained in not so many words what happened to her hip and how she was road worn. Siddiq drew the curtain, leaving Ryder alone. He pushed on the curtain, “Wait! That’s my mom!”

Daryl stepped from behind the curtain and knelt next to Ryder, “Doc needs privacy t’ look at that hip, ‘kay? Then y’ can see y’ Momma.”

Ryder nodded, “She’s gonna be okay right?”

Daryl nodded, “She’ll be fine. Jus’ like she told ya.” Daryl stood with Ryder while Siddiq worked. When he opened the curtain, Sybil was moved to a bed, covered from the waist down and an IV drip was in her arm.

“How is she?” Ryder asked anxiously, moving to her side. She smiled at him.

“She needed fluids, there’s not enough water in her body, and her cut is stitched up. Your Mom is going to be okay.” Siddiq smiled. Ryder held Sybil’s hand.

“You’re so brave,” Sybil remarked, “thank you for letting the doctor do his work.”

Ryder glanced in Daryl’s direction before Siddiq commented, “Can I look you over?”

“Please do,” Sybil insisted. Ryder sat down on a stool patiently, and Siddiq performed a quick exam. When he studied the boy, he paused and blinked twice before continuing.

“He’s dehydrated too… can I give him an IV?”

Sybil nodded.

“I’m going to put a little needle into your arm. It will be like a little pinch. Are you ready?”

Ryder stiffened his lower lip and nodded. Siddiq carefully inserted the catheter. Ryder winced, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it might be. Sybil watched him proudly as he took it like a champ.

“Why don’t you go over there and sit next to your mom?” Siddiq offered as the boy looked around curiously. He dragged a chair over for him and Ryder plopped down onto it. Daryl gauged their confusion over the things around them. He knew they’d been out there a long time; he just wasn’t sure how much. Glancing out the window, he saw a crowd gathered of his closest friends and decided it was time to go out and explain everything.

“Be back,” he said to Sybil as he went outside, closing the door behind him.

The entire council was there: Michonne, Aaron, and Gabriel. Siddiq, however, stayed inside to look after his patients. Carol quickly joined them.

“Who are they and where did you find them?” Michonne asked before anyone else spoke.

Daryl paused before explaining, “Found ‘em in the woods. I knew her… ‘fore this world.”

Everyone gasped, “You knew her before?” Gabriel asked incredulously. Daryl nodded.

“And the boy?”

“He's her son. Sybil n’ Ryder.”

Siddiq came out to update the curious crowd, “They’re both doing fine, just gave them some fluids. They’ve been through a lot just by the looks of them and need some rest.”

The group talked some more before Carol said, “Alright. Daryl probably wants to get back to his friend. Let’s leave them alone for now. There will be plenty of time to meet them later.”

As everyone dispersed Daryl’s face reflected gratitude. Carol rubbed his shoulder.

“You look like hell.”

He shrugged, “’ll be fine. Gotta go back in.”

She nodded, “We’ll talk later.”

“Mhm.”

Chapter 17: The Clinic

Ryder sat with a worn notebook resting on his lap, writing something when Daryl walked back in. Siddiq was checking the patients’ statuses.

“What’s that?” He asked, slowing the drip in the boy’s arm.

“It’s a list… of the people I’ve lost. I write their names down and something about them, so I don’t forget. We lost two friends on the way here. Gertie and Stan. “

Siddiq felt sad for the boy. To be so young and lose so much. He kept his thoughts to himself though and went on about his business.

Daryl pulled up a chair next to the bed, “How y’ feelin’?”

Ryder shrugged, “I feel fine.”

“What ‘bout you, Syb?” He called her by her nickname, and she peered up at him, her eyes soft.

“I’m much better.”

Suddenly the clinic door opened. A woman with short grey hair and a kind face walked in carrying something folded in her hands.

“Hi… I don’t mean to barge in… I’m Carol,” she introduced herself to the two, “But I figured you might want something to put on.” She held out the pair of pants.

“Thank you,” Sybil replied, “thank you, Carol.”

“Sure. Welcome to Alexandria.”

Sybil smirked, “What a way to make an entrance, huh? Half dead and losing my britches.”

Carol winked, “It will get the town talking, that’s for sure. We’ve taken in people that look worse than you two.”

“I feel sorry for them! I am Sybil, and this is my son, Ryder.”

Ryder looked up from his notebook. Carol was stunned when she saw the boy’s face. Her eyes gravitated towards Daryl, and he lowered his.

“Well, Ryder… when you and your mom get around to it, you can stay at my place. I have plenty of room. And I’ll bake you some cookies.”

“Cookies?” Ryder looked at his mom, “Like we had in those old boxes?”

“You can bake cookies here?” Sybil asked astounded.

“Sure, we run on solar energy. There’s so much to show you. But all in good time. Ryder, these won’t be the stale cookies you’ve had out there.”

Once Carol left Sybil said to Daryl, “Did I see houses?”

“Mhm. This was a new project ‘fore the Walkers. A man designed them sheets and everyone built up them walls. We been expandin’ ever since. You’ll see. For now, rest.”

“I’m not tired,” Ryder insisted, but his eyes were drooping.

“C’mon, let's get ‘cha in the bed next to yer Mama.” Daryl said softly, “Y’all need some sleep. S’ok t’ sleep here. Yer both safe.” Daryl moved the bed closer to Sybil and the boy lay on top of the blanket. He held his backpack in his arms as he rolled to his side to face his mother. His eyes fluttered, he fought to keep them awake.

“Go to sleep, Ryder. We’re behind walls.” She touched his hair gently, rubbing the messy mop of dirty blonde hair away from his face. When she was convinced he was asleep, she rolled her head to face Daryl. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of being safe, of being in a building that wasn’t surrounded by the dead.

“You should get some rest,” she said, concerned for Daryl’s well-being. There wasn’t a time she recalled him sleeping on their trek to Alexandria.

“I'm fine.” He wanted to say more. He had so many things on his mind to talk about with her. But now wasn’t the time. Let them rest. Find the right time. And then he hoped to know everything.

Daryl had searched everywhere for Sybil. He started with her friends. No one told him anything.

“Sybil wants to be left alone, Daryl,” Maria told him, “You screwed up. Big time.”

Daryl bit the inside of his lower lip, “It can’t be over.”

“It is,” Maria told him, “You just couldn’t be happy with the way things were, could you? You thought that damn drug money was more important than living a good life with the best woman you’ll ever find. She treated you like gold and you threw it all away.”

“You don’t know nothin’,” he said venomously.

“I know more than you think I do. You may as well forget about her. She’s gone.”

“Yeah?” His blue eyes reflected anger, “We’ll see ‘bout that.”

Daryl waited until the next day when school was in session to seek Sybil out. She was grading papers in the library while the kids were at recess. Once again, she was doing the work of the teachers along with her own.

Bleary eyed she looked up when he whispered her name.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, clearly upset. Daryl slid into the chair next to her.

“We gotta talk.”

“There’s nothing to say,” she answered, lowering her eyes to the papers in front of her. He caressed her wrist.

“Bullshit, there's a lot to say.”

“Shh!” The librarian hushed him.

Daryl held his breath for a moment, “Syb…”

She scooped up her papers and went into the hallway, “I don’t want to do this here.” She said as he followed her, “I had my say in the note. I’m done. All these years you’ve done so well. We had a life together. Things were really starting to move forward for us. But it just wasn’t enough for you, was it? It would never be enough. You’d always be thinking about the next deal that would make big money.”

“Syb I…”

“Go! Just go!” She exclaimed, drawing unwanted onlookers. She covered her face and ran into the girl’s bathroom.

 Chapter 18: Carol’s House

Daryl was nearly asleep as soon as Sybil closed her eyes. He had his arm propped up on his knee, resting his chin in his palm. Sybil’s eyes cracked open, and as if in a haze she saw Daryl sitting close, sleeping.

“About time…” she murmured in between dreams.

“Push, Sybil, push!” her old roommate Maria was encouraging the woman to bear down and push the baby out of her womb. Theresa was watching nervously out the window as people screamed and went running pell-mell all through the campus yards trying to save themselves from the rising dead. People were being torn into pieces right outside the window to their dorm.

“What’s going on? Are we still safe?” Sybil asked between breaths.

Theresa shut the curtains, “Never mind that,” she said abruptly, “You concentrate on that baby!”

“Oh god!” Sybil felt the wave of the next contraction as she held the sides of her bed.

“That’s it, push, push!”

“I can’t do it anymore,” Sybil cried, tears streaming down her face.

“That’s not true,” Mandy said, standing by the locked door, “You can!”

Sybil gave the hardest push she could muster.

“That’s it! I see the head!” Maria cried out holding up the sheet to cradle the baby when it was finally out, “One last push!”

Sybil bore down, gritting her teeth, trying not to scream, her body shaking, determined to have that baby. Without warning Maria was catching the baby in the sheet and quickly turned the newborn onto its belly. She rubbed its little back until the fluid came from its lungs. The baby belted out a loud howl, crying.

“Oh my god… my baby…” Sybil was holding out her hands, “is everything okay?”

Maria smiled as their two other friends joined them smiling and laughing.

“It’s a boy!” Maria wrapped the baby and placed the little one up on her chest. She held him tight, looking him over, forgetting about the hell around them.

“He’s perfect… my god… he’s perfect. My little Ryder…”

When she woke, Daryl was sitting upright again. He seemed pleased that she was moving around.

“Where’s Ryder?” She asked but was relieved to see he was lying on his bed looking through a book.

“Look what Carol brought me!” He held it as if it was made of gold, “She said they have a library here! Remember that library we stayed at with Maria, Mitchell, and Theresa?”

She smiled sadly, “I remember. We couldn’t carry them with us at the time. You were so young; I’m surprised you do. How long have I been out?” She asked Daryl.

“Couple hours.”

“I’m ready to get up.” Daryl had the feeling that she wouldn’t be down long.

Siddiq nodded, “You look much better.”

“Well, that’s not saying much,” she groaned, sure what she looked like as if she’d crawled out of a hole in the ground.

“You’ll be able to get a shower up at Carol’s.”

“A shower?”

Siddiq nodded, “we have running water. It even gets hot, thanks to the solar panels.”

“This place sounds too good to be true,” she said.

“Oh, it’s real,” Siddiq said convincingly, “the only catch is everyone has to pull their weight.”

“That’s not a problem,” Sybil said, “I’d be more than happy to help out where needed.”

“I can work too,” Ryder piped in.

Siddiq laughed, “I’m sure you can.”

“C’mon let's give y’ Mama some privacy,” Daryl said, “We’ll wait outside f’ ya.”

Siddiq removed Ryder and Sybils IVs.

When Daryl and Ryder went outside, the first thing Ryder noticed was that Dog was waiting for them. He said, “I didn’t know what to call him, but I heard you callin’ him Dog.”

“Mhm… it's his name. Figured it’d be easy t’ remember.”

“Sure is,” the boy smiled, “I like him.”

“Seems t’ like ya too,” Daryl remarked as Dog licked Ryder’s face. He laughed, and Daryl liked the sound of it.

“What’s so funny?” Sybil asked, closing the clinic door behind her.

“Dog’s lickin’ my face,” he answered.

Sybil grinned gazing at Daryl before noticing the pond. She spotted two people sitting on a bench under a gazebo while children played in the grass. She shook her head, “This is going to take some getting used to. And you’re sure they don’t mind that we’re here?”

“Naw, y’ fine. I ain’t gonna let no one tell me otherwise.” He swallowed hard as she smiled lightly.

“C’mon, take y’all t’ Carol’s. Save the tour for ‘nother time.”

“You heard Daryl, let’s go,” she got her son’s attention as he stared at the children laughing. One little girl in a big, brimmed hat waved in their direction. Ryder slowly lifted his hand and waved back.

“’S Judith. Y’all gonna meet her later.”

On their way to Carol’s house, they passed the gardens where people were working to pluck the weeds, picking the ripe vegetables, and carrying baskets off to a building. Sybil’s and Ryder’s eyes flitted here and there trying to take everything in. To Sybil, it looked like a regular town she’d seen before the fall. To Ryder, everything looked shiny new. He’d never been somewhere that wasn’t old, dusty, falling apart, or ransacked. He hadn’t slept in a bed until the clinic. He’d never seen lights working to full capacity like the ones in the clinic either. He’d not seen very many other children. And he’d never walked in an area that wasn’t dangerous. There were so many things to see and experience, he was overwhelmed. He stopped walking for a moment.

“What is it?” Sybil asked. The boy bit on his thumbnail, “It’s so big…”

She bent down so she was at eye level with him, “I know it is. This is very new for you. But this is what the world looked like before out there. It’s going to be okay. Daryl wouldn’t bring us here if it wasn’t.”

“How do you know?” He asked.

“Because I know Daryl, remember?”

Ryder was curious but nodded silently, took his mother’s hand, and began to walk again. They were now two streets over from the clinic with large townhouses connected towering over them in a row.

“Woah…” Ryder exclaimed.

Daryl scratched the back of his head, “Yeah… had more houses, but had t’ rebuild a lot of times. Seven’s Carol’s.”

They walked up the steps and Daryl opened the door directly into a hallway. There were stairs to the left and to the right an archway into a living room area. There was furniture, some looked brand new, and many things matched. Sybil could smell baked goods and her stomach growled.

“What’s that smell?” Ryder asked, sniffing the air. He’d never had a truly decent meal.

“That’s cookies,” Carol said walking down the hallway, “I made them just for you and your mom.”

“What about Daryl and Dog? Can’t they have some?”

Carol grinned up at Daryl, “Well, I suppose so. Welcome to my house, young man. I want you both to feel comfortable here.”

“How many people live here?” Sybil wondered aloud.

“Just me… and Daryl. He lives in the basement apartment.”

Just two people in this huge townhouse?

“Let me show you around really quickly and then I’ll show you where you can get cleaned up.”

Carol took them through the house and as she took them upstairs, she said to Daryl, “I’ve got it. You can relax for a bit.”

Once they were gone, Daryl fell into the couch. It was the first time he could truly think about one thing without worrying about another.

…

“And here’s the bathroom.”

“Wow!” Ryder looked around. He went to touch the faucet but realized how dirty his hands were.

“It’s okay, things clean up, just like you,” Carol said kindly. Ryder looked at his mom.

“There are two rooms down here… and one in the attic.”

“What room are we in?” Ryder asked.

“Guess what? You get your own room.”

Ryder hesitated, “My own room?” He scratched the back of his head, “I’ve never been without my mom before.”

“She’ll be in this room,” she pointed, “just next door to you.”

“Are you sure we can stay here? We don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing, I swear,” Carol insisted, “I love company. For a while, I had a full house… I miss it. You’ll be doing me a favor, believe me.” She got into the linen closet and pulled out towels and washcloths.

“Why don’t you two get showers and clean up? When you’re done, I’ll have something ready for you to eat.”

Sybil touched Carol’s arm, “Thank you so, so much.”

“My pleasure. I put some clothes out on the beds for you two to choose from. See you downstairs.”

“You heard the lady… you first!” Sybil said, preparing a bath for her son.

He reached into the water and swished his hand around, “It’s warm!” He only knew cold water, quick wash-ups, and scrubbing when they had time.

“Yes, my sweet…” She said, “You remember shampoo, right?” She teased.

He rolled his eyes, “I remember shampoo.”

“Soap?”

“Mom, come on.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be just outside the door.”

“You can step a little further away. I think I can do this alone. I am eight you know.”

“This is going to be strange for me too, Ryder… we’ve never been apart.” She shut the door and once she heard him splashing in the tub, she took steps away and into the bedroom Carol offered to look at the clothes. Boy’s clothes; lightly worn, in excellent condition. He hadn’t had new clothes in months. She saw many things she’d love to see her son in but left it up to him and looked around. The bed was single. There were curtains and shades on the brightly lit windows. There was an empty bookshelf in the corner. She opened the closet and saw some more clothes hanging and went through the dresser looking at the empty drawers.

“Hey…”

She spun around when she heard Daryl. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, “Hey. This is… really something. I’ll never be able to thank you enough-”

“Y’ would a done it f’ me.”

“In a heartbeat.”

She licked her lips and rubbed her forehead, “I have a lot of explaining to do. I know that. I promise you; we’ll have that talk. But not just yet. I’m… feeling so out of place – still with you after these past few weeks. We’ve been avoiding issues, keeping silent… and just concentrating on survival.”

“Got some of my own things t’ explain too. I can wait as long as I have ta’.”

Suddenly, Ryder came running out of the bathroom, a towel held around his waist, water dripping all over the hardwood floor, “I’m done!”

Daryl smirked while Sybil brushed past him to her son, “You don’t go streaking through someone’s house!”

“I don’t have any clothes in there to put on.”

“Oh, right… go in that room and pick something out.”

When he closed the door behind him, he said, “Wow! A new shirt and pants! Mom, there’s one with stripes!”

Smiling up at Daryl she said, “Simple pleasures.”

“He like stripes?”

She nodded, “I’ve never let him wear them though. I was afraid it would make him stick out while we were moving around. You can wear that one, Ryder.”

“Can I really?”

“Yes, enjoy it. Lord knows he deserves it,” she said under her breath.

“Why don’t ‘cha get cleaned up? I can take him down t’ the kitchen. Carol’s cookies are waitin’.”

“Okay…” She hesitated.

“He’ll be fine, Syb. He ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

The bedroom door opened and before Sybil could say anything Daryl said, “C’mon… want them cookies?”

“Is it alright? Can I go?” He asked his mom, unsure.

She nodded, “Go with Daryl. I’ll be down when I’m all clean. I wouldn’t want to touch a cookie with dirty hands. Scoot!”

Ryder followed Daryl down the stairs. Sybil went into the bathroom and seeing a filthy ring around the tub sighed. She felt horrible for the conditions they’d had to live in. Unavoidable, but still… she wished she could’ve given him a better life. Maybe now things were going to change. Maybe they finally found a place to call home.  She cleaned the tub with supplies she found under the sink and then got into the shower. Hot water! She relished the moments, suds in her hair, scrubbing the grime, shampooing several times before she could feel a clean scalp. She did the same with the soap, scrubbing every inch. Feeling lighter, and human again, she turned off the water and grabbed for her towel. Carol had left other things by the sink; two toothbrushes, toothpaste, and a comb. Sybil set to work on the knots in her hair. This was going to take a while. She smelled the clean clothes… so soft and comfortable. She looked at herself in the bureau mirror. Her hair was past her shoulders, she’d lost weight from being on the run, and lack of consistent food. She sat down on the edge of the bed for a moment to try to catch her breath. Everything was happening so fast. The smell of food finally got her moving, and she went downstairs.

She heard Ryder laughing and as she entered the kitchen she had to laugh. He had chocolate smeared on his face, and a cookie in each fist.

“These are so good,” he said between bites. Sybil looked at Carol apologetically.

She shrugged, “it’s nice to have that enthusiasm around. How about some milk?”

Sybil had never given him any milk since he was a baby breastfeeding.

“How do you have milk?”

“One of our other communities has cows. We get milk. We pasteurize right on our stoves.”

Sybil watched her open the fridge.

“I’d like some milk to try,” Ryder interjected.

“A working fridge…” Sybil was mystified.

“Alright…” Carol poured him a glass, and he took a sip, barely hesitated, and drank the rest of it in large gulps.

“Oh, I’m so pleased you like it,” Carol responded, “it’s good for you.”

“It will help your bones and teeth,” Sybil felt as if she would cry. All the things he’d missed out on. She was going to have to ask Siddiq to check him over better.

“How about you, Sybil… what can I get for you? I’ve just made some sandwiches. Ryder ate two before he dug into the cookies.”

“I’d love a sandwich, that sounds amazing. Where’s Daryl?”

“He went down to his apartment. He’ll be back up in a bit. Have a seat.” Sybil sat down at the dining room table and Carol set a glass of milk in front of her.

“Looks like you could use this too.”

Sybil realized she was eating like a pig and covered her mouth, “I’m sorry,” she said between bites, “I’m being rude.”

“No,” Carol said sitting next to her, “you’re doing exactly what all of us have done at one time or another. I know what it’s like to be starving.” She patted her hand.

“This is delicious…” Chicken, tomato, and lettuce.

“That other community, called Hilltop, is more of a homestead than here. There are working farms. They raise cattle, chickens, and pigs. They tame and breed horses-”

“Horses?” Ryder wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “I’ve never seen a real horse. Only the ones in books.”

“We have some here too.” Carol added, “Maybe once you’re settled, we can take a walk on down and see them.”

“Can we Mom?”

Sybil laughed as she took another sandwich that Carol offered her, “One thing at a time, Ryder. There’s a lot to see, and a lot to get used to. Remember what Dr. Siddiq said?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “We need to take it easy for today. He wants to check us tomorrow.”

“Right. I promise we’ll see anything they want to show us, so just give me today to rest. Sound fair?”

“You don’t make promises.”

“You’re right because I don’t usually know what’s going to happen. Nothing is usually certain. But this is something that is going to happen. So, I promise you.” She finished drinking her milk and said to Carol, “That was fantastic. I haven’t had chicken since… before the fall.”

“You’re in for a treat then, we are having roasted chicken tonight. Hilltop will be bringing beef and pork tomorrow.”

“I’m so grateful.”

“Me too.” He added.

… Downstairs, Daryl peeled off his mud-caked clothing and dropped them on the floor. He looked over at Dog who had jumped on the bed and rolled around in the blankets. Daryl tutted, “Carol ain’t gonna like the mess yer makin’.”

Dog exposed his belly in submission. Daryl grunted, “Damn you.” He rubbed his belly and said, “Gotta get cleaned up.” He went into his bathroom and started the shower water. While he waited for it to get nice and hot, he glanced into the mirror. He looked like shit. No wonder Sybil didn’t recognize him.

Sybil.

Ryder.

He shook out his wet hair wondering when they were going to talk, and what he’d say. He thought about how he felt, and those feelings just swirled together anger, frustration, confusion, and loss. On the other hand, he was truly grateful that he’d crossed paths with Sybil again. She was alive and safe. He wondered how much she’d changed. He knew he’d done a lot of changing himself. Would there be a way to fix things between them, did he want that? What about her? Would she want to fix what went wrong between them? Could it be resolved? And the child. The boy with his blue eyes. He knew he was his son. Yet, he needed to hear it from her own lips.

He finished up and changed into some clean clothes, black as usual, and headed upstairs. Dog dodged out from behind him, nearly knocking him over in the process.  

“Damn Dog,” he uttered and paused in the hallway. He heard Ryder laughing and calling Dog while Sybil was asking Carol questions about Alexandria.

He cleared his throat before entering.

“Feel better?” Carol asked. Daryl wasn’t prepared for Sybil to look as she did. Her hair was shiny and curly, with her large eyes turned toward him. Her face was as beautiful as he remembered, but she’d lost some weight. A shy smile crossed her full lips.

“Uh… yeah…” Daryl answered. Little did he know that Sybil was curiously gazing at him too. His hair was much longer than it looked all packed with dirt. It lay in waves on his well-defined shoulders. He was more muscular than he’d been, his arms pressing tight against the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. Her eyes drifted upwards. Those intense blue eyes locked in on hers.

“We were just talking a little bit about Alexandria.” Carol picked up the empty plates from the table and set a sandwich down for Daryl. He walked over and picked half of it up.

“Did y’ get ‘nough to eat?”

Sybil nodded.

“How ‘bout you?” He turned to Ryder.

Ryder rubbed his belly, “I’m stuffed!”

“You should be! He ate two sandwiches, and I don’t know how many cookies.” Carol smiled proudly.

“Only four,” Ryder answered blushing.“That ain’t too bad,” Daryl remarked, “I could eat ‘bout a dozen of ‘em.”

Stay Tuned for Part Four

[steamed-ham-moved]

𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐇𝟐

SUMMARY ➣ France releases an airborne virus designed to eradicate all Cryptids. It ends up having the opposite effect… Kagura wants to be left alone, but that might not be possible when she meets Max, then Negan.

╭┄┈┄────────❍•

│Negan & Max X fem OC, somewhat slow burn

│TWD CRYPTID AU

│Warnings - NA

│ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

╰┄┈┄──❍•

[littlepeachwhispers]

Civilian - Chapter 3: Blood in the Cut

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: When you accidentally stumble onto Sanctuary territory, Negan takes you prisoner to ensure your arrival is purely coincidental. When no one from your group shows up, you end up becoming a citizen of the sanctuary and realizing just how dark your new leader truly is.

Chapter Warnings: light body gore & blood

Story Warnings: violence, gore, smut, slow burn, isolation, body gore, blood, dark themes

Available on AO3 if you prefer to read there. A/N: It feels like forever since I’ve updated this. I'm so sorry, guys, but to my credit, 2018 was a seriously crazy year. I lost/quit my job, had the worst heartbreak of my life, and I met Jensen and Jared. It was insane. But I promised I wouldn't abandon this fic and I mean it. My love for Negan has resurged and so has my motivation. This chapter was shorter than the rest I believe but it's a bit of a transition for me so I promise there's more angst/drama/action to come in the next chapters. I'm a bit rusty with no beta, but I'd love to hear ideas for future chapters!   

During your first few days with Dr. Carson, he had familiarized you with the equipment he had in the makeshift hospital. Many machines and devices were outdated, but it made sense since the Saviors scavenged and took what was available to them. Carson had also prepared you for what the typical sanctuary patients would be like. Gunshot wounds, pregnancy tests, infections, and colds. He said that occasionally there would be something on the gorier side, but that hadn’t bothered you. You had seen your fair share of gore, all before the apocalypse was even thought about. Wounds that wouldn’t heal, people dying within seconds in front of you, insane gastrointestinal bleeds. As fucked up as it seemed, when it came to body gore, you were in your comfort zone. It was your life before the world went to shit. And patching people up came to you like second nature. Fixing people felt like home. 

Despite your newfound comfort in your job, your arrival at the Sanctuary still had you reeling. Laura and another female savior whose name you had learned was Arat had accompanied you everywhere. Work breaks, the canteen, the commissary, even your shared room; each night was exactly like your first night in the old factory minus the handcuffs. You felt like you were never alone, your sense of self becoming fuzzy at times. Even Carson could be caught sneaking glances at you as you worked. You never slept well because you were always on edge. More often than you would care to admit, you found yourself wondering where your new leader spent the majority of his days. Negan had been scarce to say the least during your time at the sanctuary. It was nearly two weeks into your stay before you saw him again. He had been silently watching you alphabetize medication vials and bottles, before he left without a word. Whether it was due to his deteriorating eyesight or his lack of attention to detail, for some reason Carson hadn’t paid much mind to the organization of his tools or medicines. Within a few short days, you had fixed that. All the cabinets and floors were hand-scrubbed to perfection. They hadn’t been dirty beforehand, but thanks to you they were now pristine. 

You began to lose count of how many days you’d been a Sanctuary citizen, knowing little more than the infirmary, your room, and the canteen. Days had begun to run together, finally some sense of normality in your situation falling into place for you. It seemed safe to lay low and off of Simon and Negan’s radar. You had no specific reason to fear them, not really. The imprisonment, the handcuffs, the weapons: it was scary, sure. But wouldn’t your own community have done anything they could to protect what they had as well? The longer you turned it over and over in you mind, the easier it was to understand. Your unease around Negan hadn’t primarily emerged as a result of any specific action. An aura of power, of absolute brutality, hung over him like a cloud. His authority was palpable. Something in you - probably the self-preservation - suggested that steering clear of him would be a wise decision. At least until he’d personally made avoiding him impossible.

Startling you out of your thoughts and causing you to drop an ampule of lidocaine, someone loudly barged in behind you as you stood in the makeshift infirmary. It was an ordinary day and nothing had been unusual up until that point. Carson had stepped out for his usual lunch and you had been relabeling bottles whose lettering had begun to fade. When you turned around to face the source of the commotion, you were face to face with a bleeding Negan, his hand covered in a deep crimson. A blond man you thought was named Dwight stood behind him, a blood-soaked towel bundled under one arm. 

“Didn’t mean to startle you, Darlin.” His voice was strained and you could tell he was uncomfortable. You kicked the shattered glass at your feet to the side, pulling cabinet doors open to search for what you needed. 

“I’m fine, D. Tell the boys to continue with the festivities.” Even in pain, he kept his humor as he directed his voice toward Dwight. 

Flinging open cabinet door after cabinet door, you managed to gather some telfa pads, gauze packets, an antibiotic cream, and some saline meant for contacts, all of which you transferred to the exam table within seconds. Dwight nodded at Negan once through stringy ashen bangs before excusing himself. Gloves were a rarity, so you had to work on the man’s wound gloveless. There were a few boxes around, but the infirmary “staff” - consisting of Carson, a man and two women who had been aides in a hospital, and yourself - had collectively decided that gloves were for extreme needs only. The chances of having hepatitis of one type or another didn’t seem unlikely for anyone at this point. You often wondered if it even mattered anymore. An infection or bloodborne illness couldn’t be any worse than dying from a biter. 

Negan didn’t say anything at first, his eyes focused on you intently. It was unnerving and you busied yourself with inspecting his wound to ease your mind. After lifting up the once-white cloth he’d used to cinch the blood flow, you discovered a laceration a little over an inch in length to the web of his left hand. Not a bite and not very big. But it was considerably deep. It still oozed blood. You ripped open a pack of gauze and pressed it firmly to his wound, before lifting his hand upright. 

“Keep it elevated like this.” You decided to keep your replies short and simple, concentrating on the job in front of you. 

“Settling in nicely?” His voice was just as you’d remembered, his timbre gravel. 

“Yes.” Your answer was quiet. You poured the saline solution over the gauze to prevent it from drying to his blood as it clotted, your hands surprisingly steady around his.

“Good…” His voice trailed off, and you waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t.

You kept applying pressure until you finally staunched the bleeding completely. It didn’t call for stitches, thankfully. While cleaning up his wound with more gauze and saline, you noticed how calloused and bruised his hands were. He’d presumably just been in a fight, but he smelled clean. Like soap. The white tee he had on wasn’t pristine - there were smudges of blood and dirt - but it was still white. His hair was inky and slicked back into perfection, just as it was the first time you’d met. The short beard adorning his face was peppery and sharply groomed, with no trace of neck-beard to be found. It never ceased to amaze you; the capacity at which Negan was worshiped and taken care of by others in the community. It was unsettling, even moreso since you’d been tasked with healing the man.

“This might sting.” You warned timidly before dabbing a small amount of alcohol over the gash. 

Negan hissed lowly, muttering a quick, “Shit!” 

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, beginning to dry his wound and opening the small individual packet of antibiotic cream. 

As you spread the ointment over his wound, you began to speak again, doing your best to keep yourself calm and your voice even. “I’m going to wrap a dressing around your hand. Just keep it dry and clean and come see me if any drainage is visible or in about three days. Whichever comes first. If it starts to hurt worse, feels hot, or smells, come see me as soon as you notice.” It wasn’t standard practice - in a perfect world, he would change the bandage every day. But you were conserving products and three days seemed a safe amount of time to wait.

Laying a non-stick pad over the wound, you started to wrap gauze around it when Negan spoke again.

“That sounds gross as shit, but coming out of your mouth it’s kinda fucking hot.”

Eyes widening, you didn’t know how to respond to his words. Did he call you hot? No, he said your words were hot. His phrasing felt more like a threat than a compliment. Tucking the end of the gauze into place, you stepped back from your newfound leader and began to pick up the wrappers from the supplies now on Negan’s hand. 

“I’m finished.” You had turned your back to clean up but heard paper crinkling as the tall man stood up and off of the exam table. 

“Arat and Laura are still escorting you around the Sanctuary.” His voice was steady as he spoke, and even though he hadn’t asked you a question, you felt as if he wanted you to answer him.

“They are.” Cautiously, you threw all your trash away and turned to face him. He had his head tilted to one side, his injured hand rubbing at his beard. 

“You know, those ladies are two very integral members of my security team here.” You didn’t know exactly where he was going with this, but you took a shot in the dark.

“I’m not going anywhere, Negan.” He raised his eyebrows at your words, and your stomach instantly felt like it was filled with ice. “Sir,” you amended.

“...Good girl.” He chuckled. “I’m going to trust you on that. Can I trust you, Y/N?” He stepped closer and you began to feel nauseated and stuck in place. It was a repeat of that first encounter with him all over again.

You looked up to meet his eyes, backing up until the freshly cleaned counter was biting into your lower back. “Yes, sir.” You felt your pulse pounding in the flush of your cheeks.

He held your gaze for an intense moment - long enough to make you shiver - before grinning again, as if nothing had just transpired between the two of you. 

“Great.”

You continued to clean up and organize supplies as Negan stood in the middle of the room. He didn’t move to leave immediately, and that made your hands tremble as you grasped a plastic container of alcohol and replaced it in its proper cabinet. 

“...You did a good job.” He grunted, inspecting his hand. Before finally turning to leave, he turned to face you again. 

“Thank you. Can I do anything else for you, sir?” Your voice was stronger; it didn’t sound like you were as scared as you actually were. 

He chuckled at your voice, eyes meeting yours this time. You wondered how far he was going to push the envelope with his reply, but he surprised you: his laughter was his reply. After he glanced over your body in a quick once-over, he’d turned to the doors and disappeared.

What did that even mean? You peered around the room you stood in; nothing had visibly changed save for the crinkled paper on the exam table, yet the aura in the air had grown heavy; different. Your encounter with Negan had left you tense. The mood didn’t lift all day. You continued with your usual work, bandaging a wound or two, but mostly organizing and cleaning. Was Negan kidding when he’d said your voice was hot? He was this community’s leader, would he find it disrespectful if you didn’t return his interest? Or if you did? Was he even actually flirting with you, or was it just an aspect of his personality? Negan had used pet names from the moment he’d met you, and you assumed it had been his demeanor. A part of that complex persona he embodied. Truth be told, you didn’t know anymore. And you didn’t know if figuring it out was worth your peace of mind at this point.

Taglist:  @ohokaybyethen @miiraal @grayonshugs @angelicaleonamichelle @collette04 @freakior

It’s been a long time, so if I left you out or you no longer want to be on the taglist, let me know!

[trashcanband4]

Therapy Sessions Ch. 3

Ch. 1   Ch. 2

Pairing: NeganxOc (Kelly). Setting: The Sanctuary. Warnings: Ooc Negan.

Three weeks went by. She would sleep on the other side of Negan’s bed. Wake up to him gone, do a morning work out, eat whatever small amount of food was left on a plate on the table then wait for Negan to come back just to be prodded with what he called get to know you question’s. These questions were so pointless and superficial that she swore that Negan was simply trying to bore her to death. Frankly she was getting tired of it.

It was after the twentieth or so question of the day that she asked, “Why are you wasting time and resources on me?” finally snapping, raising her voice at him for the first time. “Why are you dead set on this?” she stood up and looked down at him.

He glared up at her. “I don’t know. I just know I need to.”

“God, you are so…” she started but stopped, not being able to think of a word that described him.

“Charming,” he said as she stood up, looking down at her, “handsome, generous, drop dead fucking sexy as hell.” He finished with a smile and a slight lean back.

“Annoying…ass-hole…arrogant… bastard.” She spat the words at him then moved to turn around, but he grabbed her by her arm and pulled her back around to face him. Her eyes traveled to his hand on her sleeved upper arm then back up to his glaring, dilated eyes.

“I have taken it easy on you, Dead Girl.” He warned her. “Talk to me like that again and you’ll join Daryl on easy street.”

“Good, do it, it has to be better than do you like this, do you like that, when did you lose your virginity, when did you have you first kiss, blah blah blah blah blah.” She said in her best deep Negan voice. “If your goal is to drive me fucking bat shit crazy then congratulations you’ve won! The fucking gold metal goes to surprise, surprise, you! Asshole of the year everybody!” she was yelling at him and finally lashing out, but it wasn’t enough for Negan, he needed more.

So with glaring eyes and a strained grin Negan he wrapped his long fingers around her neck and shoved her back until her butt hit the edge of the table causing glasses to rattle then pressed his lips to hers. He was actually surprised that she started kissing him back and placed her hands on his sides. As her tongue snaked its way into his mouth she slid one of her hands up to rest on his chest. His hand on her throat relaxed as his eyes slipped closed. Feeling him relax she swiftly, slid her hand across his chest and used her forearm shove him back with all her might.

He stumbled back, hand still in there air where it had been on her neck as his eyes slowly opened. As he saw her panting with flared nostrils and fire in her eyes, a smirk spread across his lips. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.” His words had no effect on her. “But that, right there,” he motioned to her face, “I did. You fuckin’ look like you want to murder me right now, Darlin’.”

“I fucking hate you.” she growled still seething in anger.

“According to that kiss, you fucking love me.” He said with another cheeky grin and a jerk of his chin.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She told his as she walked around him. “It was a distraction tactic and it worked.” She grabbed her plaid shirt off of the bed and shrugged it on.

With her back still to him she drew in a calming breath then held it a few seconds. “Holy shit, he just fucking got to me. He fucking did it. I felt pure…raw rage for the first time since Markus left me. Oh my God, is that when all this started, when he left me? Is that when I started shutting down? And whoa, that kiss. I had thought about Negan kissing me before, when he first brought me here and I thought that sex is what he wanted from me, but holy fucking shit was that good.” After silently panicking she let the breath out. “What’s next, you gonna try to make me cry?” she asked as she turned around and walked past him and sat down in her dining chair on the left side of the table. “Boo hoo hoo my children died and my husband left me. You murdered two good men and took me away from my people. You made Kelly angry waah.” She rubbed under her eyes as she pretended to cry then dropped them from her faced and let her face turn sarcastic. “I don’t cry anymore. In order to cry you need to hurt and I can’t get hurt anymore.”

“Getting hurt is part of living.” Negan responded. “Shutting down like you’re doing is hurting you.”

“I can’t feel anything.” As she spoke her eyes fell to the floor. “What I’m doing is self preservation.”

“No, what you’re doing is selfish.” He countered.

“How so?” she asked.

“By not letting people in, you’re robbing them of the pleasure of knowing you, of having a friend in you. Hell you are drop dead fucking gorgeous.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously, I’m surprised some poor fucker hasn’t turned just from lookin’ at you. If that kiss is any indication I’m sure you’re a good fuck too.” He was trying to get under her skin again.

“None of that is true.” She said with a head shake. “As for being a good fuck…I don’t even remember what I’m like.” She shrugged then leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

He moved to straddle her outstretched legs. Her eyes took in his big hands that gripped the arm rests of the wooden chair she was sitting in before she let them travel up his plain white t-shirt covered chest, his neck, his lips then his eyes. “Do you want me to help you remember?”

“No.” Negan was surprised to see that all that rage he had seen before was now gone and she was back to her cool calm collected self. “I may be mentally broken…but I still have morals. I’m not your wife.”

“Would putting a ring on your finger get you to open up to me…let me in?” he asked, still leaning over her, staring her down in the chair.

“No.”

“Tell me why not.” He said leaning down a little more as if that would get to her, “Explain yourself.”

“If you didn’t have other wives…If I knew making a vow and putting a ring on my finger would make me something special to you, then maybe it would help. Maybe, but you’ve already admitted between the lines that you don’t see them as real wives. So why would I want that for myself?”

“I guess as you see it now you wouldn’t.” he stood back up and moved to sit in the chair across the table from her. “But you’ve already got one advantage over them. I don’t allow them to sleep in my bed. I don’t give anyone anything without expecting something in return. Most people here, they work for points and those points are spent on what it takes to keep them alive and comfortable. My wives, they earn their keep by keeping me happy. Then there are the people that are good for nothing but working the fences.” He explained a bit of the inner workings of the sanctuary to her. “What have you given me to earn what you have been given? As I see it you are in negative points right now which is not a good place to be.”

“I didn’t realize that’s how it worked.” She said quietly, hating the fact that she was now in debt to him. “I’ll earn my point’s… Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“All I want you to do for now is let me help you.” he answered.

“I don’t know how to do that.” She whispered more to herself than him. “I can handle being thrown into a room to be isolated and abused. I can even handle physical torture, but I have spent years building up these walls that you’re asking me to break I…” for the first time in a long time she felt her eyes water, but she didn’t let the tears fall. “What if I break?”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He told her as he leaned up and placed his arms on the table. “If you break, it’ll be because I made you. So I’ll pick up the pieces and put you back together.”

“And how do I know I can trust you?” she asked sitting up to mimic how he had his arms cross on the table. “How do I know that you don’t intend on breaking me and leaving me that way? How do I know that you don’t get some sick sadistic pleasure out of breaking people?”

“Blind faith?” He answered and she shook her head no. “Do you know why I chose you?” he asked and she shook her head no again. “I’ve seen a lot of people with the same void look in their eyes and it never bothered me before, I never cared before. But something about you, something about how you looked at me, made me care. I care too much about you to break you indefinitely. I can’t find out what has drawn me to you until you are alive and care about the people in your life.”

Kelly sighed and let her head fall onto the table, her forehead pressed into the cold wood as she covered her head with her arms. “You might as well stick me in the cell next to Daryl. There is no fixing me. I’m too damaged…”

“You don’t have a choice, sweetheart.” His whispered, soft words made her pick her head up and rest her chin on her arms that she folded on the table. “I’m gonna fix that fucked up head of yours rather you fuckn’ want me to or not.” He stood up and locked the door and chained it shut. “You’re goin’ to stay right here. You can fight me every inch of the way, but it happenin’ darlin’.”

The fire was back in her eyes for a split second. So it surprised him when she said, “Fine.” And just like that the hatred in her eyes was gone, replaced again with emptiness. “Do your worst.” She said as she stood up and walked over to stand chest to chest with him. Her boldness also surprised him. She kept doing that, surprising him when he thought he had her figured out. “Try to make me feel something other than rage, but it won’t work. I…feel…nothing good.”

If he was being honest, she had him riled up, harder than a rock the way she kept glaring at him, her chest pressed against his. He wanted to grab her and this time push her against the door and take her right then and there, but he knew that wasn’t the way to go about getting to her to truly open up to him. Instead he bit his lip and nodded then walked around her to sit back down at the table. Her eyes followed him curiously. “You know, Daryl’s been asking about you. Every time someone goes in to feed him he asks where you are and what I’m doing to you. He’s threatened to kill me several times if I lay a hand on you.”

She sat down on the bed and pulled her knees into her chest. Negan noticed her start chewing on the inside of her lip as she stared at the floor. She had never done that before, but Negan had never spoken about how Daryl was doing before. He had mentioned here and there about what he was doing to Daryl and how he intended on breaking Daryl, but never had he mentioned Daryl’s side of things. Kelly had cared for Daryl at one point a long time ago. He’d saved her on more than one occasion and in more than one way.

“No comment?” he asked making Kelly’s dark eyes snap up at him. “Do you care about him?” he watched her suck her lip into her mouth and shake her head as her lips slid between her teeth. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“I cared about him…past tense.” She answered as she dropped her legs to hang off the edge of the bed.

“Tell me what you think about Daryl.” He told her as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

“No.” she shook her head, her brown frizzy waves slapping her in the sides of the face.

“Why not?” he asked, trying to not let his aggravation show.

“Because I’m not going to give you ammo to use against him.” She answered.

“What is said between us in this room stays here in this room.” he told her and she just stared at him. “As soon as I walk out of that door I will forget whatever you may tell me. We can’t talk about your past for forever. We need to talk about the here and now. The people you surrounded yourself with and what you think about them will tell me about you. So talk to me.”

“Fine.” She said as she leaned back to lay on the bed. “What I think about Daryl.” She sighed as she stared up at the ceiling. “He’s a damn good man. Loyal to a fault. Protective of his people. He’s saved me a lot, even when I didn’t want him to. We were close before I fell away from everyone.”

“What about Rick the prick?” he asked as he stood up and took off his leather jacket.

“God where do I start with Rick?” she scoffed. “He’s a leader, hardheaded, strong. He doesn’t take shit from anyone. He doesn’t always make the best choices, but his heart’s always in a good place when he does. He’s pissed me off more times than I can count, but he’s still a good guy.”

“What about that guy…Spencer?”

“Arrogant, entitled asshole not worth the air he breaths.” She answered quickly.

“Good to hear that, because I killed him yesterday.” Negan answered causing Kelly to sit up and look at him.

“Why?” she asked flatly.

“He was trying to weasel his way into my good graces…trying to play me and I saw right through it.” he answered.

“Stupid.” She said making Negan think she was calling him stupid for killing Spencer. He glared at her, making her realize how Negan took her word. “Spencer, not you.” she clarified. “So you’ve been inside Alexandria?” she asked and Negan nodded. “Have you met Judith, Rick’s daughter?”

“Yep, she’s a sweetheart. I made her and Carl dinner then rocked her to sleep while I waited for Rick the prick to come home. Speaking of home, you guys have it made there, electricity, running water…”

“I know I’m in no place to make requests, but can I ask that you don’t hurt Judith?” she asked quietly.

Negan stared at her for a second. “I’d never hurt a toddler.”

As he thought about Negan rocking Judith to sleep, she remembered that when she was brought to the doctor, one of Negan’s wives was leaving the office and the doctor threw away a negative pregnancy test as Kelly walked in. “Can I ask you something?” she asked and Negan motioned for her to talk. “Do you like kids?”

“I love kids, they’re the future. I worked with them before the turn.”

“Do you want kids?” she asked and Negan just stared at her for a second, trying to figure out what she was getting at.

He smiled a little, showing off his dimples before he finally answered. “I would love to have a kid one day.”

“Is that why you have all those wives? To try to have a kid before you bite the dust?” she pulled her knees to her chest again and wrapped her arms around them, thinking he was going to get mad or lash out at her.

“Hadn’t thought about it like that, but yeah, I guess that’s one of the perks.” He said with a smile on his face at the thought of having a kid. It didn’t matter which one of his wives was the mother. He just loved the idea of being a father.

After a while of sitting in silence, which was odd given that Negan was in the room, Kelly dropped her toned legs, clad in black yoga pants, from her chest and stood up. “Am I ever going to get to see what else is out there besides the doctor’s office and showers?” she asked as she walked over to the counter in the room and poured herself a glass of water. She took a drink as she turned and leaned her hips against the bar.

“The day you truly open up to me will be the day you see something other than these four walls.” He answered and she swallowed then nodded. “Oh, I almost fuckin’ forgot.” He said as he jumped up and walked over to her. “The doc. pointed something out to me today. Mentioned you might be needing these soon.” He took the glass out of her hand and replaced it with a stack of pink wrapped sanitary napkins. She wrapped her hand around the stack and dropped her hand as she looked up at him to see if he was embarrassed. Most men would be in this situation. The inner workings of the female body tended to make most men squeamish. Negan however looked amused. “Felt like a dumb ass walking around with those in my back pocket all day, just so you know.”

She smirked at him a little and simply said, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave her a small smile in return. “Lucille used to make me go get those things all the time. She always got really sick during that time of month.” He said as he turned his back on her and walked away a bit.

As she scanned his back, taking in his broad shoulders, covered with a white t-shirt, slim waist and his ass, clad in grey pants, she felt the urge to touch him. “Fuck. This isn’t happening.” She told herself as she started chewing on the inside of her lips again. “I’m not starting to feel something for him. I just…I find him attractive, that’s it, plain and simple. I don’t like him or want him.” She reassured herself.

“You hungry?” Negan asked getting Kelly’s attention. “I’m fuckin’ starvin’.”

“I could eat.” She answered with a numb nod, Negan noticed the distracted look on her face, but decided to drop it for now. “What time is it?”

Negan looked at his watch then answered, “Six twenty-five.”

She realized then that she was actually starving and had missed lunch. “Time flies.”

“I’m gonna go grab us some dinner.” He said as he put his jacket back on and walked out of the door without another word.

When Negan was gone, Kelly pulled the sanitary napkins out of her pocket and looked at them, then around the room. She’d been there for almost a month now and in this world if you stayed in one place longer than that you started to call it home. Here felt nothing like home and as she looked at the napkins she realized they were the only things she could call her own here along with the necklace on her neck.

For the first time since she had gotten there she thought about Alexandria, about home. The old folded up photo of her kids that probably still sat on her night stand. The pictures they had drawn her that was still taped to the walls. Her clothes that hung in her closet. She missed having her own room and her own things. She didn’t think she ever would miss Alexandria.

With a sigh she tucked the napkins back into her pocket and took her necklace off of her neck. It had been so long since she opened it that she feared that it wouldn’t, but after sticking her thumbnail between the pieces, it popped open. The faces of her husband and children looked back at her. Her old life flashed before her eyes and before it could get to her, she clipped it shut and took a deep breath. She pushed back the tears before they could make it out of her eyes. Negan had really done a number on her when he pissed her off.

She was letting the breath out when Negan opened the door with a tray in his hand and a reusable shopping bag in the other. She hopped up and took the tray from him to place it on the table. “So what’s for dinner?” she asked as she turned back toward him.

“BLT’s and fresh fruit.” He answered and her mouth instantly watered. “But first I went shopping for you.”

“What?” she asked, a little confused.

“Here.” He handed her the shopping bag with a recycling symbol on the side of it and she hesitantly took it from him.

“What is this gonna cost me?” she asked still not looking in the bag.

“It’s on the house.” He answered causing her to glare at him. “It’s not a trap, I promise. I just figured you could use a few things of your own.”

“Okay…” she drawled as she set the bag on the bed and started taking things out. A hair brush with hair ties wrapped around the handle, bobby pins were hooked on the elastics, a notebook and a few different colors of pens, a Mac cosmetics lip balm that changed color depending on the ph of lips, a Too Faced black eyeliner and mascara set, deodorant, toothbrush, toothpaste, a compact mirror, tweezers, nail clippers, a nail file and a small tube of bath and body works hand cream. “Are you sure there’s not a catch? This is a lot of stuff and not cheap stuff I might add. The makeup alone is like, eighty bucks.” She knew she was making a good case for him to take the stuff back, but she didn’t want to owe him anything.

“Really, those three things are worth that much?” he asked disbelievingly and she nodded at him. “Well they’re worthless to me so take them.”

“Okay, if you insist.” She said with a nod.

While she put the things back into the bag, Negan started taking the lids off of their food. When she turned around she saw that he had found her necklace that she’d left on the table. She froze, as she saw that he had opened it and was looking at the pictures. When he looked up at her their eyes locked. “I’m guessing these are you kids.” He said as he looked back down at the pictures. “And this is your husband.” He pointed to the picture of Kell’s husband. “What are their names?” his tone told her that she had no choice but to answer the question.

“Darcy and Xavier were my kids. Markus is my ex husbands name.” she answered wondering why he cared what their names were.

“That’s what I thought.” He sighed making her cock her head at him in confusion.

“What?” she asked as he snapped the locket shut and handed it to her.

“Markus isn’t at Hilltop or The Kingdom.” She stared at him, wondering what he was getting at. “Markus is here. He's one of my men.” Negan said quietly.

Kelly just stared at him, a million thoughts flying through her head. Would he tell Markus that she was here? Would he use him to try to break her? She couldn't see Markus again, not when he was the cause if her shutting down in the first place. "Are you going to say something?"

"I don’t know what to say." She whispered as he took in the look of pure fear on her face.

"Do you want to see him?"

"NO!" Kelly answered louder than she meant to and Negan cocked his head to the side. "If I see him again I will not hesitate to kill him or at the very least re-break his nose."

"That is something I'd like to see." Negan told her with a smile then remembered that Markus's nose was broken when he first came to the sanctuary. "Wait, you broke his nose before he left Alexandria?"

"I told you things got ugly between us." She answered with a shrug.

"Elaborate." He told her as he picked up his sandwich, but when she didn't answer he looked her over a little closer and noticed her hand on her stomach. Seeing that she was so upset she couldn't eat he changed his mind. "Never mind. Calm down, eat your supper and well cover that topic in the morning."

Eventually her nerves untangled enough that she could eat and as soon as she was done she crawled into bed before Negan then quickly went to sleep.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 62

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 2,885

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

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The walk upstairs was silent, giving you plenty of time to ponder what Amber had said about the wives being kicked out of their rooms and forced to move back in with the community. You and Negan hadn’t discussed specific details of what would happen with the wives, just acknowledged that neither of you wanted anyone except each other. However, the fact that he had gone ahead and made that move on his own was even more poignant, and showed once again just how serious he was about having you as his equal partner. 

Reaching the office, he opened the door and let go of your hand so that you could precede him inside, these little moments of chivalry never failing to warm your chest. Crossing the room, you went into the adjourning bedroom, flicking on the tall floor lamp and depositing your sack of belongings onto the floor beside the bed. When Negan didn’t follow, you returned to the office to find him pushing papers into folders, which he then stacked and tossed down into a desk drawer. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he hadn’t even waited to tidy up his paperwork before coming to collect you for the night. 

Rounding the desk to stand beside him, you leaned a hip casually against the wood and said, “So...I’m gonna take a wild guess that you had a conversation with your wives.”

Desk now cleared, he straightened and looked at you. “They’re not my wives anymore.” 

Eyebrows raising, you replied, “Amber said that you’re making them move out of their rooms.”

Giving a sigh and running a hand down over his beard, he murmured under his breath, “Amber’s a real pain in the fucking ass.” Raising his voice to normal level, he continued, “I told all of them that I’d set them up with weekly fucking points so that they could live comfortably here, since that was part of the initial fucking deal and it wouldn’t be fair to totally renege on it. Though I also made it clear they’re welcome to get a fucking job and help out if they want. But I said that they would no longer be called my wives and that I’d no longer, uh…”

You almost laughed at the usually crass Negan hesitating, so helped him out. “Fuck them?”

He glanced at your face, as if to assess if you were upset or uncomfortable with discussing other women he’d slept with, but you honestly weren’t. It wasn’t as if the wives hadn’t been a constant presence until now, even if he hadn’t been fucking them. 

“I let them know that if they had any issues with my decision, they were more than welcome to leave, because I wasn’t going to put up with any fucking arguments about it.”

“Did any of them seem to have any issues at the time?” you asked.

He gave a little shake of his head. “Sherry asked if that meant they could fuck whoever they wanted now, and I said it didn’t matter to me; I’m not their fucking guardian. I let them know that they’d be moving down to the third floor with the rest of the community, though I was fucking nice enough to say I’d get them single rooms, if they wanted. They mostly just nodded and didn’t say a word, though I should’ve known Amber would throw a fit as soon as I left.” 

His jaw clenched with frustration as he said, “I’m fucking sorry, doll. I should’ve had a Savior keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t do anything fucking stupid.” 

Moving closer, you reached out and placed your palm over the back of his hand where it was clenched into a fist against the desktop. “Hey, don’t worry about it. If anything, it was probably good that Amber and I got that little talk out of the way immediately, because if it hadn’t happened tonight then it would’ve been some other time.”

Deciding that enough energy had been wasted on Amber, you moved the conversation away from her. “I’m glad you gave them the option of working, if they want. Hopefully some of them take that offer, since it’ll make it easier for them to fit in with the rest of the community and make some connections outside of one another.”

You also internally thought that it was smart of him to force them all to move downstairs, since it probably wouldn’t be healthy in the long run to keep them isolated up on this floor like old trophies collecting dust. Moving them to another floor where they had to interact with others in some capacity would help them to move on, to form other friendships and potential relationships. Your mind flashed to Maria and wondered how she was handling all of this. Chances were she had sensed it coming, but you’d still want to check in with her and make sure she transitioned okay. 

Speaking of transitions, you couldn’t help but worry a bit with how the rest of the community would react to this major change. What if they saw Negan letting go of his wives as a negative thing? What if they thought he was indecisive and not a worthy leader if he couldn’t uphold his image as a womanizer with a harem of wives at his beck and call…

The stress of your thoughts must’ve shown, because he unfurled his fist and turned over his hand under yours, so that they were palm to palm. “What’s going on in that mile-a-minute brain of yours?” he asked with a playful nudge of his shoulder. 

Your brain had indeed started sprinting in circles until the subconscious had to literally jump on its back and half choke it to death for it to slow down and chill out. Taking a deep breath and staring at your joined hands, you decided to give the ‘being open and honest up front instead of freaking out over it for days first’ option a try. 

“I was just thinking...will all of these changes hurt your tough and all-powerful image? I don’t want to be the reason for anyone seeing you as a less capable leader.” 

The sound of him scoffing made you look over, surprised to see his eyes twinkling with humor. “Nah, doll. If anything, I’d think having such a strong, badass woman willing to stand at my side would show more than anything how powerful I am.”

If anyone had called you a badass a month ago, you’d have thought they were mocking or completely delusional. However, you’d learned over the past few weeks that perhaps you had more positive, strong qualities than you previously gave yourself credit for. Otherwise, how would you have attracted a man such as Negan, gained such an amazingly smart and loyal friend like Ben, and been able to successfully take charge of the entire kitchen staff. 

Imposter syndrome was a real bitch sometimes, but you were glad to have recently pushed it off a cliff and been able to see your own potential, to now view yourself the way those around you apparently already did. And if Negan thought having you at his side wouldn’t harm his image, would actually do the opposite...well, what better badass seal of approval did you need?

Releasing some of the physical tension from your limbs, your shoulders relaxed and body went more pliant as you pressed into Negan’s side and twined your fingers through his. Looking up at him, your eyes dropped to half-mast and you allowed desire to shine out from your gaze. 

“So I guess this means that I do deserve exclusive dick rights, after all.” 

You weren’t sure if he caught the reference or not, as it was a nod back to the day weeks ago, when he had first stood in your room and condescendingly thrown the phrase like a dagger in response to you saying you refused to be just another notch on his bedpost. Ironically, it turned out that you were the only one who had even been anywhere near his bedpost, though you hadn’t known it at the time. 

He must’ve remembered after all, because his low, deep laugh rumbled through you like distant thunder. Turning so that you were chest to chest, he bent down to murmur against your lips, “It sure fucking does, doll. This dick is all yours.” 

Reaching down, you boldly cupped the growing harness between his thighs and replied, “Fucking right it is,” before sealing your lips to his. 

He gave a strangled growl and burst into action, and before you had even fully realized where this was going your shirt was pulled up over your head and he had turned and lifted you to sit on the edge of his desk. You watched as he flung off his own shirt, all that deliciously tanned and tattooed skin coming into view before he stepped up between your thighs and bent down to suck at the side of your neck. 

Moaning, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and leaned back on your other hand as his lips traveled down over your throat and collarbone. Reaching behind you, he unclasped the bra so that his mouth could play with your nipples. 

He praised you the entire time, describing what he loved about each inch of your body he kissed and caressed. His voice was rough and delicious like chocolate gravel, while his words dripped across your skin like filthy honey. 

“Dear god,” you whimpered, already desperate as his mouth trailed over your stomach, and he hadn’t even taken your pants off yet. “Negan.”

“What is it, doll?”

“Your voice...sometimes I think you could just talk me to orgasm.” You couldn’t even feel embarrassed at the confession. There was no way that he didn’t know that his voice was pure sex, not with how he wielded it like a weapon of desire.  

He lifted his mouth then, tucking that sinful tongue into his cheek while obscenely looking you up and down. “We might have to try that some other time, doll. Tonight, I plan to use more than fucking words on ya.”

You whimpered when his head lowered and he licked across your ribs before nipping at the curve of your waist. “Then do it,” you demanded, feeling the little puff of amusement he released against your goose pimpled flesh. 

He upped the pace at that, quickly unbuttoning and tugging off your jeans and underwear. A growl left his throat, like a panther spotting its prey, at the sight of your bare pussy spread out on his desk. Sitting down in the chair, he scooted it in close so that he was at mouth level with your body, and you knew that never again could you see him sitting at his desk doing paperwork without thinking of this very moment. 

Calloused fingers wrapped around your inner thighs and parted them obscenely wide before he dove in as if a man starved. He already knew your body just as well as, if not better than, you did yourself, so it took an almost embarrassingly short amount of time for him to have you shaking with a full-body orgasm. Your body arched against the wood as you cried out, fingernails scrabbling at the shiny surface for something to clutch onto. He kept going for a bit after that initial peak until you couldn’t take it anymore, thighs closing reflexively around his face with the overstimulation, so that the feel of his beard was imprinted on your inner thighs before he finally pulled away.

When you were able to stop quivering and had enough strength to sit back up, you saw that his beard was slightly damp and he had an arrogant but well-deserved grin on his face. 

“You might be a fantastic cook, doll, but I gotta say...that right there was the best god damn meal you’ve ever fucking served.”

Rather than be embarrassed by the very Neganesque dirty joke, you instead wanted to give tit for tat, and wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. Pushing forward, you slid down off the desk to your knees between his spread thighs and reached for his belt before he even knew what hit him. Two could play this game, after all. 

Once his pants were undone, you reached inside the snug boxer briefs and pulled out his thick cock, the head already red and weeping. If you had ever doubted how much Negan enjoyed eating you out, here was the proof that both he and his cock loved every second of it. 

Wrapping fingers around the base, you leaned in and licked across the slit at the top, tasting the saltiness of his precum. The action caused him to release a stuttered breath, followed by a groan when you pushed his cock towards his stomach so that you could lean down and run your tongue along the underside from base to tip. You felt one of his hands thread through your hair and palm the back of your skull, gently guiding you to stop teasing and take him deep. 

You acquiesced, opening your mouth around him and sucking his veined length as deep as you could without choking. The strangled moan he released made you glance up from under your lashes just in time to see Negan tip his head back in pleasure so that you only saw the jut of his chin and strong, tanned throat. The sight gave you a jolt of feminine power. Knowing that it was you making him come undone like that was a heady sensation, and you redoubled your efforts to make him lose control. 

Moving wet lips up and down his throbbing dick, you lifted one hand to cup his balls. Playing with them, you rolled and teased until his voice came out stuttered and wrecked. 

“F-fucking hell…” he broke off with another moan, and you could tell that he was already getting close. You were almost disappointed when his other hand reached down to grab your wrist before gently pulling you off his cock and to your feet in front of him. 

“I wasn’t done,” you husked, before licking your lips in a way that made his eyes immediately drop to watch and his mouth fall open the tiniest bit. 

His voice was raspy and urgent when he replied, “Next time you can suck me dry. This time, I want to feel your cunt around my dick when I come.” 

Shit, you loved when he talked filthy like that, and felt a fresh rush of dampness between your thighs. You hopped back up onto the desk while he stood from the chair and leaned down to open one of his desk drawers. You gave a light laugh when he pulled out a condom, and he grinned back.

“I’ve got these things hidden all over the fucking place now. Can never be too prepared when it comes to you, doll.” 

Quirking a brow, you almost asked where else he had hidden them, but decided it would be more fun to find out in time. Your thought process was jerked back to more important things anyways, as he rolled on the condom before pulling you to the edge of the desk and stepping between your legs. He ran the head of his cock up and down your slit, causing you to jerk and gasp each time it bumped your clit. When you whined his name pleadingly, he lined up at your entrance and pushed inside, causing you both to groan simultaneously.  

You’d never get enough of this sensation, of the feel of him pushing in his cock as your pussy stretched and adjusted in welcome. It was as if your bodies had been made to perfectly fit together. 

He leaned over you, one hand braced palm-down on the surface of the desk beside your head, while the other ran over your body. Fingers tweaked your hard nipples and trailed over your waist and hip, clutching at your ass while he thrust his hips the entire time in a rhythm designed to quickly drive you wild. You had one hand spread out over his pecs, feeling his sweat-slickened skin and the slight rasp of chest hair. With the other you reached up and wrapped fingers around the wrist beside your head, anchoring yourself when his thrusts picked up momentum so that you weren’t pushed across the smooth surface. 

He leaned down until his face was hovering over yours, making eye contact and holding it even as he continued his driving thrusts and caresses. He moved in until his lips were right over yours, until the puff of his exhales decorated your open, panting mouth. His voice, when it came, was low and husky with arousal, but it also sounded wrecked with affection.

“You’ve captured me, doll. Hook, line, and fucking sinker. I’m captured.”

And then his mouth claimed yours, the same way his words claimed your heart. A few thrusts later and you were crying out into his mouth, your bodies synchronizing so that you orgasmed together.

In that moment, you both captured and claimed the other entirely, and it was the sweetest possession either one of you had ever known.

[ruinedbynegan]

Closer: Chapter 13

The bright sunlight shining through my eyelids is what brought me to consciousness. But I didn’t open my eyes. Not yet. I was extremely comfortable and I snuggled into the source of the comfort and warmth. In response I felt something curl around my middle, bringing me closer. I tried to adjust, growing uncomfortable at the intrusion poking itself into my lower back. Briefly, my mind drifted back to the events of the previous night, but that’s all it took for me to remember where I was…and who I was with. Negan. And from the feel of it, he wasn’t in his wolf form anymore. My eyes snapped open.  

Using all my strength, I wrenched myself away from him, getting to my feet with impressive speed. As soon a as I turned to look at him, I realized that I wished I hadn’t. He was laying down, propped up on his elbows, his eyes sparkling with delight, probably because of his current state of dress…or undress. Negan was stark naked and sporting the biggest hard on I had ever seen. I blushed furiously while my wolf rejoiced, eager for a taste of him. She wanted to caress the tattoos scattered across his body with her tongue and— I forced myself to turn away from him. He gave a low laugh, clearly enjoying my embarrassment.  

“Good fuckin’ morning, doll,” he said, his voice still laced with sleep, hair tousled. 

I ignored him. “Can you please put some clothes on?” I asked, growing more uncomfortable at the thought of him naked behind me. Naturally, my wolf was getting aroused at the notion.  

“You weren’t complaining last night,” he said under his breath. I didn’t have to look at him to know that his characteristic smug grin was plastered on his face. A few seconds later, I heard rustling behind me followed by the sound of a zipper.  

“Alright, sweetheart, I’m decent,” he said mockingly. Hesitantly, I turned around to face him. He was hardly decent, wearing nothing but a pair of grey pants that hung low on his hips. Much to my surprise, I took him in without blushing, eyes trailing down his form. He was built perfectly, long but muscular in all the right places. Dark hair was scattered across his chest over a tattoo, trailing down to--

“You done objectifying me yet?” He said. My eyes snapped up to his face, seeing the humor dancing around in his eyes. He was enjoying this, making me squirm. I decided I wasn’t going to let him.  

“You done showing off?” I asked, referring to his body.  

He scoffed lightheartedly. “For you, doll? Never.”  

I didn’t respond, letting myself bask in the silence and continued to stare at him. The silence didn’t last long, of course.  

“Why did you come here?” He asked.  

I shook my head. “I told you last night,” I replied.  

He shook his head back. “No. You gave me some half ass answer as to why you came. I want the damn truth.” The fierceness in his voice grew more prominent after every word.  

I broke eye contact with him, looking down at the ground, not sure if I was ready to answer something I didn’t even know. I heard him move closer to me, and soon enough I was looking down at his bare feet. I didn’t flinch when he reached out, cupping the side of my cheek in his warm hand, bringing my face up to look at him.  

“And what did I say about looking away?” He asked, his voice low.  

Briefly, my mind drifted to my thoughts from last night. How I longed to be the person that I was. And something clicked. That part of me never died, it was just hidden. Yes, it was fueled by my wolf, but it was me, the true me. This person that I was presenting to Negan right now? It wasn’t me. The part of me that was afraid to make decisions, too scared to speak up, that was the part of me that needed to crawl back into a crevice in the back of my mind.  

Deciding who I wanted to be, I looked into his eyes, blue connecting with hazel. And I spoke.  

“You hold that pretty head of yours high and don’t fucking submit to anyone. Not even me,” I quoted his words directly back at him. And for a moment, I saw surprise flash across his face and his hand dropped from my face. He gave a nod.  

“Why did you come here?” he asked again. This time, I decided on telling him the truth.  

“I don’t know. And before you criticize me for saying that, I really don’t fucking know.” I took a step back from him, giving myself some space from his looming frame, but I didn’t break eye contact. “All I know is that for the last six weeks, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. I don’t understand it, I just knew that I couldn’t go any longer without seeing you.” I huffed. His mouth turned upwards into a smile, his dimples forming as he did so.  

“Why? Why couldn’t you go longer without seeing me?”

God, he was infuriating. “What the hell do you want me to say, Negan? That I’m attracted to you? That the way you look at me makes me feel things that I’d rather not talk about right now? That you make me feel something I don’t understand? What exactly do you want to hear?” As the words tumbled out of my mouth, I realized that I was getting angry trying to decipher what he wanted from me.  

“Carson, I want the goddamn truth!” he said, voice booming and echoing throughout the woods. Again, he moved closer to me, looming over my small frame. “I want you to acknowledge that everything you’re feeling is because you’re fuckin’ mine! You belong to me. And the sooner you accept that, the hell of a lot happier we’re both gonna be.”

“No!” I yelled, my voice fierce. “That’s not how it works. You don’t just get to lay your claim on me and expect me to accept it, no questions asked. What, do you think because of some freaky wolf bond that may or may not exist, that my legs are just going to magically open for you? It does not work that way!”

Now, his eyes were smoldering, anger swirling around in his orbs. He moved so fast that I didn’t even register what he was doing as he threw me over his shoulder with ease. I yelped in shock.  

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m doing exactly what I should have fuckin’ done that night on the roof! You’re coming with me!”

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