#but u kno... with a multi chapter thing people read it more... have more chances to see it and read it for the first time... ;)

[vizhi0n]

Sundown - Part 1

YOOO IM BACK ON MAH BULLSHIT

(Before i go on, there is major spoilers for the Walking Dead season 8 Premier. If you haven’t seen it yet you should probs watch the ep before u read this)

Anyway in honor of last nights premier I decided to finally drag my ass back into self-insert Negan realm and write “reader/me/you getting trapped with Negan during the Sanctuary attack. Anywho this is just a brainless excuse to write smut and other wild shit so enjoy. 

If u wanna be tagged lemme know (this is gonna be a multi-chapter thing) And if u don’t wanna be tagged lemme kno. 

Homies:

@flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @lucifers-trash-stash @kellyn1604 @superprincesspea @genevievedarcygranger @hannibalssweaters @strangersangel9 @heartfulloffandoms @ladylorelitanyfanfiction @negans-network @crzcorgi @i-am-negan-trash @mypapawinchester @my-achilles–heel @jasoncrouse @rapsity @manawhaat @tolieboy @kijilinn (theres more but tumblr wouldn’t lemme tag em)

Rating: M Overall cause there’s gonna be smut later. Also Simon might make an appearance bc he is bae.

I could count the number of times I’d been a good Samaritan on one hand. I rarely ever went out of my way to help strangers in this hellscape of a world. That being said, I certainly wouldn’t go out of my way to help someone who had been a complete and utter assfuck to everyone around him, and had conspired behind our backs to get us to surrender during the most intense confrontation of our lives.

Yet when Gregory, limping, stumbled into me and practically tackled me, panting and nearly in tears, I stopped.

Any other time, I would have brushed him away. But this wasn’t “any other time.” Members of the Hilltop, Alexandria, and The Kingdom were making a hasty retreat as a massive horde of walkers, drawn towards us by Daryl, barreled down on the Sanctuary. I could hear both Rick and Ezekiel shouting for everyone to head towards the cars, but Gregory’s grip on my arm tightened.

“Help me.”

I had about three seconds to make a decision. The Saviors were firing at anything that moved — walkers, humans, it didn’t matter. Sucking in a breath I jerked Gregory behind cover, gun cradled against my chest. I could see our getaway vehicle just a few yards away.

Mistake number one: leaving Gregory closer to the vehicle. I could see the glint in his eyes as we remained pinned, the sound of gunfire deafening.

Hoe don’t do it.

He glanced over at me and I gave him the most caustic glare I possibly could, a glare that hopefully indicated that I wasn’t above putting a bullet in his leg and leaving him to rot. Nevertheless, before I had a chance to even shout or aim my weapon, he was gone, darting towards the armored car.

Oh. My. God.

A barrage of gunfire kept me from sprinting after him. I cursed, pressing myself against the concrete slab. I couldn’t see Rick or Maggie or Ezekiel — I could only see the undead, slowly bearing down on me. I heard the squeal of tires against asphalt as Gregory left without so much as a glance or a fucking wave.

I rolled to the side, not caring whether or not I got shot. A bullet to the brain was far better than becoming walker chow. I wasted two precious seconds trying to figure out where I was., and a half second grasping for my knife —

My knife was gone. The thick, curved blade had disappeared from my belt.

I had no idea if Gregory had somehow pickpocketed me — he had no idea how to even properly use a knife, but he certainly didn’t know that — or if I’d dropped it during the fight.

I was forced to shoulder past a walker, keeping my head ducked. I’d only see a layout of the Sanctuary once, but being in the midst of it was very, very different than studying it on a piece of paper.

A walker grasped at my shirt, but I tore away, nearly falling. I clutched my gun tight, but there were so many, he horde so thick in numbers it would have been impossible, albeit fruitless, to try and shoot.

I tried to the first door I saw. It was locked. Weaving and ducking my way towards the second door took a harrowing fifteen seconds. I kicked away a walker, relieved to find that the door handle moved. I fell forward and was dumped  onto carpet — I kicked the door shut from where I lay, abruptly cutting off the roar of the undead. All I heard now was a faint hum and my own ragged breathing.

“I hope you’ve got your shitting pants on.”

I recognized the voice immediately. For a split second I contemplated opening the door and leaping back out with the walkers. Being eaten alive wouldn’t last long, right? They’d eat my brains first. Or maybe my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see when they—

“You are about to shit your pants.”

I looked up. Negan stood above me, smiling despite the ludicrous situation we were both in. We locked gazes and he raised his eyebrows. He wasted no time in offering me a hand, Lucille clutched tightly in the other.

I didn’t take it. I stood on my own, keeping my eyes on his the entire time. The moment I began inching towards my gun, Negan kicked it away, where it skidded across the room and against the wall.

He’ll kill you.

You’re not going down without a fight.

I caught him off guard by lunging. He was a good half a foot taller than me. He was also broader, more muscular. I certainly was no linebacker, but I tacked him anyway. That smile on his face disappeared the moment his back hit the carpet. Lucille flew from his grip.

His gloved hand flew up and immediately pushed my face to the side. I grunted, boldly clamping my teeth down on one of his fingers. His bark of surprised pain was satisfying, though it didn’t last long. His opposite hand cuffed my cheek, easily overpowering me.

Now I was on the carpet, struggling as he pinned me down. I struggled, cursing, shrieking and trying to ensure that he didn’t get ahold of my wrist. I was vaguely aware of him saying something, probably demanding me to stop.

I wasn’t listening.

So, he reared back and delivered a solid left hook to my cheek. My head snapped to the side and my shouts stopped.

“Be fucking quiet! Do not make me hit you again, holy fuck,” Negan snarled. I didn’t look at him, keeping my cheek firmly planted against the ground. I could taste blood in my mouth. I went to speak, but Negan stopped me. “You are so fucking lucky that I didn’t just fucking kill you. I wasn’t going to, but goddamn…we’re in a fucked up situation here, and I would kindly appreciate if you calmed the fuck down.”

“Rick almost killed you out there. I saw it. Whatever you do to me, it won’t fucking hurt me,” I bared my teeth. “You have nothing to threaten me with.”

“Who the fuck said anything about threatening you? I mean, you clearly don’t give a fuck if you live or die, considering how you just took a huge fucking risk by jumping on me like that.”

He still had me pinned. We were both sucking in deep, gulping breaths. “I only jump on people I hate.”

“You hate me? You just fucking met me!”

“I know who you are. I saw what your people did — what they can do. Safe to say that you’re not know as the ‘best dude on Earth’ around these parts. Kind of why we attacked you.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I don’t care if you hate me. I’m your way out of here,” Negan leaned in closer, “And you’re my way out of here. That’s the fucking reality of it.”

“Says who?”

“Say’s those undead pricks outside. You stumbled in here on accident, right? I’m assuming this wasn’t a fucking suicide mission?”

“I can make it a suicide mission.”

“Wow. You really don’t fucking care about life then, do you?” Negan released my wrists, still straddling me to the carpet. He eased back a bit, rubbing his temple. “Shit. Maybe I should kill you.” 

“Do it.”

“Fuck, no. I’ve already gotten Lucille dirty enough.” 

I turned my head, looking at the bat in the corner. Negan rose, leaving me on the ground while he collected both Lucille and my assault rifle. I watched as he walked over, obviously limping. I saw a dark red patch on his thigh, but said nothing. He slung the gun over his shoulder before returning to stand over me, once again offering me his hand.

“Let’s try this shit again. If you attack me, I’ll kill you. And I mean that.”

Rolling my eyes, I took his hand and allowed him to pull me up. The moment I was standing I reached for my gun, but Negan reeled back.

“Hold up, princess.”

“Call me ‘princess’ again and I’ll rip your fucking nuts off,” I snapped. I made another move for the gun, and once again, Negan avoided my reaching arm.

“I said hold the fuck up. You’re not getting this gun back until I know that I can trust you. Besides, you won’t be needing it. Bullets aren’t going to get us out of here — not yet.”

I raised my hands in a placating gesture, trying to keep calm. That smug smirk on his face was pissing me off.  I said, “Fine. Whatever. So what’s the plan? How are we getting out?”

“No fucking clue. i was hoping you would know.”

Of all the people that could have gotten stuck…why did it have to be me? Why couldn’t it have been Gregory or, hell, Gabriel. At least a priest would have knowledge on patience.

But no. It was my skinny-ass, short self. Of all people God or fate or whatever could have chosen.

One way to look at it: you’re not locked in here with him, he’s locked in here with you.

Now prove it.

#negan #my writing #negans thirst squad #vizhi0nw