#negan slowburn

[juuuulez]

📰 | part eleven: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, slowburn, teenagers in love, blood and gore, descriptive injuries, not reeaallllyyy angst not really violence either, cute Judith.

summary: After being taken back to Hilltop for recovery, Carl plans something to help lift your spirits.

okay sorry for making you all wait with that cliffhanger!!!! next chapter is going to be soooooo pure and soft i’m promising you right now, i’m very excited to write it!

in other words…..i fear capulet may be coming to a close! we all know how the show went (😬) and though i don’t plan on killing off Carl, i’m curious as to where to take this….if anyone has something they wanna see, let me know!

-> masterlist <-

Everything moved so quickly, Carl struggled to make out what had just happened. You were there one second, gone the next, body limp on the concrete. The mere idea of something fatal made his stomach churn, heart clenching in his chest with pure panic.

He was panting, overwhelmed and stressed, now by more than just the raid. It didn’t take long to rush over, finding that truck you’d been hiding behind, his knees colliding roughly with the concrete as he came to kneel and assess the situation.

The gunfire faded away, as all Carl could hear was his heartbeat in his ears. His hands were trembling as he finally tried to touch you, rolling your body over onto your back, taking note of your unconscious state.

Red stained the side of your head, goopy blood soaked into your hair, pooling on the ground. He wiped some splatter from your cheek, terrified with the notion of baring a disfiguring injury. As his hand smoothed down your head, he felt a shallow groove along the side of your skull, gory and disgusting.

But it appeared the bullet skimmed past, wedging itself into the ground or a building or whatever, it didn’t even matter. Carl let out a hesitant sigh of relief with this realisation, pressing his hand firmly to the side of your skull, trying to stop the bleeding. He cringed at the bumpy expanse of where your ear had been completely taken off.

“Dad!” Carl yelled out, uncaring of giving away his position, just needing some sort of assistance. Each second they spent on the floor, panic welled up inside, growing distraught at the idea of doing nothing.

When no response came, Carl was about to yell again, somehow even louder. Fortunately, he turned to find Michonne approaching, having been alerted by his urgency.

“She needs help,” He tells her, though it’s blatantly obvious, with the dark red blood pooling on the floor. “We have-.. we have to do something, we can do something.”

Michonne comes to kneel besides Carl, though she’s looking out at the carnage, gun poised at the ready, the one she’d recently learnt how to shoot. She shakes her head, glancing down at your body, before continuing to keep watch.

“We can’t,” She says with emphasis, though her heart pangs at the distraught look on Carl’s face, eyes practically pleading with her. “He wouldn’t do this for you. For anyone.”

“This isn’t about him!” Carl yells, uncaring of his volume. His arms are already under your shoulders, trying to lift your limp form. Blood coats the side of your head and neck, pooling on your collarbone, getting all over Carl’s flannel as he tries to balance you.

He’s sick of it being about Negan. He’s sick of this war, of his family being threatened, of the people he cares about dying. It ends here.

Somehow, Michonne gives in, knowing she’d never be able to pry Carl away from your body. “Okay, okay,” She sighs, “Get her into the truck, and stay there. Someone will clot the bleeding. I’ll get your father.”

Carl doesn’t even ask questions, doesn’t wait to continue the conversation, already halfway standing before Michonne has finished speaking. He hauls your body up, awkwardly fumbling for a moment before he finds a more secure position, where he can bring you along to (supposed) safety.

Everyone knew of your reputation, and were reluctant to help. The doctor at Hilltop had tried to refuse, claiming to be uncomfortable with the suggestion, and Carl was amidst arguing when Rick returned.

Though sceptical, Rick decided that saving you would make great leverage. That your wounds were to be patched up, yet you’d remain at Hilltop, as hostage, until he could broker a deal with Negan over radio. If your health was at risk, then he wouldn’t come in guns blazing.

That, and Rick made it very clear that if anything went wrong, your ass was out with the walkers. Carl was sceptical, he didn’t think his father could be so cold, but considering all you’d done… maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched.

Turns out, the bullet had scraped past your head, leaving a nasty gash along your skull. It was easily stitched up, but would definitely leave a scar. The worst part: your entire left ear was gone. Shot clean off. It appeared that your eardrum had burst along with it, resulting in what would likely be long-term hearing loss from that side.

Your waking was slow, groggy and half-coherent the first few hours, though they granted you the reprieve of some heavy-duty pain medicine to ease the splitting headache. It was Rick who explained everything to you, and if you were capable of it, you would have attacked him. He knew that, too. Hence why you were handcuffed to the bed.

Mostly, you were angry at being captured. At being played, like a pawn in their stupid feud. At Carl avoiding you. The second you’d regained consciousness, he’d split, avoiding your little room at all costs. Yet, you knew he was here. He’d left his flannel behind, draped over your chest, which you were somewhat grateful for, given the flimsy tank you wore, braless and leaving little to the imagination.

Days passed. At least, you thought so, you weren’t allowed outside. To go to the bathroom, you had to ask through radio, and someone would come to un-cuff and supervise you. The whole situation was humiliating.

What was taking Negan so long? You missed him. Clearly, they were demanding something unreasonable, something that Negan couldn’t agree with. But surely you were worth it. You hoped so, anyway, after everything that had happened.

Eventually, after days of driving yourself crazy, the door opened. It was a small room, the interior of a stationary caravan, you thought. Nowhere to hide, that meant. Usually, when someone visited, it was in an attempted interrogation, or to watch closely while you ate the bare-bones meal they’d provide. You grit your teeth, that rude, uncaring attitude bubbling up again. Truthfully, you’re reaching breaking point here.

That doesn’t change when Carl finally enters.

He stands awkwardly at the doorway for a moment, something clasped tightly in his fist. Despite you wearing his flannel, he has another one on, a darker grey. How many of these does he have?

You don’t speak as he approaches, maybe wanting to give him the silent treatment. But neither does he. Slowly, Carl comes to stand beside your bed, unfurling his fist to offer something to you.

A small ringlet with a set of metal keys.

Immediately you reach out, trying to secure the bounty, but Carl pulls his hand away, keeping the keys out of reach.

In response to your venomous glare, he speaks slowly, words firm and stern. “No running off.” He tells you.

When you give no response, Carl takes it as understanding, moving cautiously as he slots the small key into the metal frame of your cuffs, releasing your wrist and letting them dangle from the bed frame.

The second Carl pulls away, you lunge at him. He reacts swiftly, hands grasping at your wrists, pushing you back against the bed. “Asshole!” You yell, squirming in his hold, desperate to be freed and far from here.

“Stop moving.” He commands, surprisingly strong, and just his tone is enough to force you into momentary submission, stilling against his hold.

You glare up at him, all those dirty emotions bubbling up since your capture. “This is your fault, isn’t it? Getting me kidnapped?” You brazenly accuse.

“You weren’t kidnapped,” Carl retorts, “I just didn’t want you bleeding out on the concrete—”

“Fuck you!” You cut him off, shamelessly yelling in his face. It seemed childish, like you were ungrateful of being saved, but for some stupid reason.. Carl liked that. He liked how aggressive you were. It felt good to be challenged.

“Do you want to get out of here, or not?” He finally asks, giving the slightest inkling of what he’s here for. Just the suggestion causes your mind to tick, and Carl knows he’s won by the look on your face.

He lets go of your wrists, and luckily, you don’t immediately try to escape. It’s clear he’s won you over, so Carl unclips the handcuffs, reattaching them to his belt for future use. Your eyes linger on them for a moment, wondering if he’d really cuff you, unsure whether that made you angry or excited.

“C’mon, up.” Carl commands, offering a hand to you. A moment of suspicion passes, before you just take it, letting Carl help you from the bed.

The first thing he notices is your sense of balance, which has been certainly fucked. You lean a little to the left side, prompting Carl to bracket your shoulders, trying to keep you upright. “There we go.” He mumbles when you find your footing, causing you to glare up at him.

The hostile reaction makes Carl grin, clearly amused, which does nothing to curb your attitude.

Somehow, there isn’t anybody guarding your door. It was locked, but Carl had the keys, so he quietly ushered you from the room. Avoiding the main gates, and consequently, any onlookers, Carl took you out towards Hilltop’s back, where a small opening in one of the walls let the pair of you sneak out.

A rusty car was parked against the wall, causing your brows to furrow in confusion, stopping on the path. You were suddenly hit with this wave of guilt. It must have been obvious, as Carl turned around, already opening the car door.

“Just a bit farther, I promise.” Carl tried to urge you along, satisfied when you gave in and got inside. You twisted in the passenger seat, alerted by the sudden cooing from behind you. Buckled into the back was Judith, who reached her chubby hand in your direction.

“Sorry,” He begun to apologise, “I couldn’t get out of babysitting. She won’t bother us.”

You smiled, resting sideways in the seat with your knees up, reaching out to meet her hand. She eagerly took it, squeezing the appendage with chubby fingers. “It’s okay.” You assured Carl.

The car vibrated as it started, the engine making a disturbing noise, but it ran nonetheless. Seemingly having a destination in mind, Carl drove down the dirt path, taking you away from Hilltop. It wasn’t necessarily a long drive, but you didn’t speak, aside from a few hushed mumbled as you entertained Judith’s blabbering.

Eventually he stopped near the treeline, thick shrubbery decorating the edge of the road. The car pulled over, and when Carl got out, he made an effort to haul a large branch in front of it, hoping the slight cover would deter any stragglers from picking it up. Clearly, he’d thought this out.

“Coming?” He asked when you remained still, already having picked Judith up from her seat, and was descending down a small slope past the bushes.

You felt inclined to follow, curious as to what this entire trip was about. As you stepped through the shrubs, you were reminded of your skewed balance, not quite steady. Fortunately, you made it down the hill without any casualties.

Carl walked a few meters ahead, placing Judith down, and revealing his plan. The sight made you shake your head, brows pinching in this weird mix of irritation and appreciation.

“You suck.” You grit out, giving Carl that same unamused expression, which only makes him smile harder.

He leaves Judith on a soft plaid picnic blanket, already decorated with crayons and paper, to which she eagerly grabbed at. There was a bag, too, and you wondered what was inside, though the mere thought that Carl had set this up made your heart clench, not sure how to interpret the gesture.

“Just sit down. Enjoy it while it lasts,” Carl advised you, taking your hand to tug you along towards the blanket, “We’ll be fighting again before you know it.”

Against your better judgement, you obeyed, a soft smile on your face.

Maybe you could do with a break.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #twd x you #carl grimes x you #the walking dead

[steamed-ham-moved]

𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙆𝙎/𝙒𝙄𝙋 𝙐𝙋𝘿𝘼𝙏𝙀𝘿 11/29

➣ All stories are currently multi-chaptered or planned to be multi-chaptered. A bit of a slowburn if you will (because I have to get past like 3-4 chapters just to get to the part I wanted to write in the first place. Then end up losing motivation.) One-shots if any, will be labeled.

➣ For Negan fics, unless it’s by request, I do not write Y/N or ‘you’ fics. I have nothing against it and personally do enjoy reading some of these fics, however, I don't want there to be dissonance if Y/N does or says something that you, the reader, wouldn’t actually do/say. Instead, I use OC. You can always imagine yourself as OC though, it’s what I do sometimes.

➣ Make sure to let me know of typos or other mistakes in any fics.

╭┄┈┄────────❍•

│★ = currently working on

│☆ = Paused

│ ❢ = Not started

╰┄┈┄──❍•

✺ 　 ·*

　 . 　　

　 ˚ 　 ✦ * 　 　

⋆ . . 　　 ✦ 　　　　　 ·. + 𝙉𝙀𝙂𝘼𝙉

* ⋆ 　　 ˚ 　　

　　　　　 ⋆ * . ⋆ ⊹

　 ⋆ *

❲☆❳ 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐀𝐠𝐞 ╰┈┈ 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐀𝐔 ┈┈┒

[EXC] Apart from the ceaseless dick talk; jokes, comments, and over detailed descriptions. She finds that Negan is actually good at being a teacher, even better than herself. There are some things that he’s able to do that she isn’t and he’s patient with her, encouraging, offers her his best advice to help her along, then praises her when she finally gets it right. She likes it, she likes it a lot, and strangely enough it’s the thing that truly makes her begin to enjoy being around him.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝐂𝐇𝟏 | 𝐂𝐇𝟐 ┈┒

❲☆❳ 𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁 ╰┈┈┈ 𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝙰𝚄 ┈┈┒

[EXC] “Don’t forget Sua, this will be the first male HoloStar. FASTWAVE! is going to be known for something bigger and better than collecting old pieces of shit. Whoever he is, he needs to make the panties drop and pussies pop.” She says nothing in return and excuses herself from the room.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝙲𝙷𝟷 | 𝙲𝙷𝟸 ┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝙐𝙉𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿 ╰┈┈ 𝙍𝙀/𝘽𝙄𝙊𝙃𝘼𝙕𝘼𝙍𝘿 𝘼𝙐 ┈┒

[SUM TO BE REVISED] When their base of operation gets busted, Sua and her co-worker must find a new location to produce T. They end up at an unsuspecting high school where she meets Negan.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

❲★❳ 𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫 ╰┈ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃 𝐀𝐔 ┈┒

[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.

[NOTE] This is a Max and Negan fic, both are main characters.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝐂𝐇𝟏 | 𝐂𝐇𝟐 ┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝙐𝙉𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿 ╰┈┈┈┈ 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘼𝙐 ┈┈┈┈┒

[Summary] -

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝘼𝙇𝙐𝙈𝙉𝙄 ╰┈┈┈┈┈ 1-𝘚𝘏𝘖𝘛 ┈┈┈┈┈┒

[Summary] Sua attends her high-schools college fair and sees Negan again.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

✺ 　 ·*

　 . 　　

　 ˚ 　 ✦ * 　 　

⋆ . . 　　 ✦ 　　　　　 ·. + 𝙅𝙅𝘽𝘼

* ⋆ 　　 ˚ 　　

　　　　　 ⋆ * . ⋆ ⊹

　 ⋆ *

❲☆❳ 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤 ╰┈ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃 𝐀𝐔 ┈┒

[Summary] Risotto wants to kill the boss of Passione, Prosciutto helps him out.

cryp·tid | \ ˈkrip-təd

Any creature that may or may not exist. Sightings of various cryptids have been reported, but their reality has not been proven.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝐂𝐇𝟏 | 𝐂𝐇𝟐 | 𝐂𝐇𝟑 ┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝘾𝙍𝙐𝙎𝙃 𝙊𝙉 ╰┈┈ 𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙓 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙤 ┈┈┒

[WARNINGS] -

[Summary] After the abduction of her brother, Trish Una is swept up into the dealings of Passione. Delivered by Periculo, she is left under the protection of La Squadra Esecuzioni, the hitman team. (And no, she’s totally not crushing on one of them.)

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

✺ 　 ·*

　 . 　　

　 ˚ 　 ✦ * 　 　

⋆ . . 　　 ✦ 　　　　　 ·. + 𝘽𝙇𝙀𝘼𝘾𝙃

* ⋆ 　　 ˚ 　　

　　　　　 ⋆ * . ⋆ ⊹

　 ⋆ *

❲☆❳ 𝙊𝙕𝙊𝙉𝙀 ╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

[Summary] “It’s pretty messed up… What you said about Momo and Izuru and I honestly don’t really know what to say about it right now. I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you… But in your own kind of twisted way,” she paused, looking at him in question, “you were a good guy weren’t you..?”

Gin didn’t so much as blink as he replied, “nah. Never was, never will be. But ya make me wanna be one.”

GinRan post TYBW and more.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 ┈┒

#my writing #my fic post

[steamed-ham]

𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙆𝙎/𝙒𝙄𝙋 𝙐𝙋𝘿𝘼𝙏𝙀𝘿 1/06

➣ All stories are currently multi-chaptered or planned to be multi-chaptered. A bit of a slowburn if you will (because I have to get past like 3-4 chapters just to get to the part I wanted to write in the first place. Then end up losing motivation.) One-shots if any, will be labeled.

➣ For Negan fics, unless it’s by request, I do not write Y/N or ‘you’ fics. I have nothing against it and personally do enjoy reading some of these fics, however, I don't want there to be dissonance if Y/N does or says something that you, the reader, wouldn’t actually do/say. Instead, I use OC. You can always imagine yourself as OC though, it’s what I do sometimes.

➣ Make sure to let me know of typos or other mistakes in any fics.

╭┄┈┄────────❍•

│★ = currently working on

│☆ = Paused

│ ❢ = Not started

╰┄┈┄──❍•

✺ 　 ·*

　 . 　　

　 ˚ 　 ✦ * 　 　

⋆ . . 　　 ✦ 　　　　　 ·. + 𝙉𝙀𝙂𝘼𝙉

* ⋆ 　　 ˚ 　　

　　　　　 ⋆ * . ⋆ ⊹

　 ⋆ *

❲☆❳ 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐀𝐠𝐞 ╰┈┈ 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐀𝐔 ┈┈┒

[EXC] Apart from the ceaseless dick talk; jokes, comments, and over detailed descriptions. She finds that Negan is actually good at being a teacher, even better than herself. There are some things that he’s able to do that she isn’t and he’s patient with her, encouraging, offers her his best advice to help her along, then praises her when she finally gets it right. She likes it, she likes it a lot, and strangely enough it’s the thing that truly makes her begin to enjoy being around him.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝐂𝐇𝟏 | 𝐂𝐇𝟐 ┈┒

❲☆❳ 𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁 ╰┈┈┈ 𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝙰𝚄 ┈┈┒

[EXC] “Don’t forget Sua, this will be the first male HoloStar. FASTWAVE! is going to be known for something bigger and better than collecting old pieces of shit. Whoever he is, he needs to make the panties drop and pussies pop.” She says nothing in return and excuses herself from the room.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝙲𝙷𝟷 | 𝙲𝙷𝟸 ┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝙐𝙉𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿 ╰┈┈ 𝙍𝙀/𝘽𝙄𝙊𝙃𝘼𝙕𝘼𝙍𝘿 𝘼𝙐 ┈┒

[SUM TO BE REVISED] When their base of operation gets busted, Sua and her co-worker must find a new location to produce T. They end up at an unsuspecting high school where she meets Negan.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

❲★❳ 𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫 ╰┈ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃 𝐀𝐔 ┈┒

[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.

[NOTE] This is a Max and Negan fic, both are main characters.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝐂𝐇𝟏 | 𝐂𝐇𝟐 ┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝙐𝙉𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿 ╰┈┈┈┈ 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘼𝙐 ┈┈┈┈┒

[Summary] -

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

❲ ★ ❳ 𝘼𝙇𝙐𝙈𝙉𝙄 ╰┈┈┈┈┈ 1-𝘚𝘏𝘖𝘛 ┈┈┈┈┈┒

[Summary] Kagura attends her high-schools college fair and sees Negan again.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

✺ 　 ·*

　 . 　　

　 ˚ 　 ✦ * 　 　

⋆ . . 　　 ✦ 　　　　　 ·. + 𝙅𝙅𝘽𝘼

* ⋆ 　　 ˚ 　　

　　　　　 ⋆ * . ⋆ ⊹

　 ⋆ *

❲☆❳ 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤 ╰┈ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃 𝐀𝐔 ┈┒

[Summary] Risotto wants to kill the boss of Passione, Prosciutto helps him out.

cryp·tid | \ ˈkrip-təd

Any creature that may or may not exist. Sightings of various cryptids have been reported, but their reality has not been proven.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 𝐂𝐇𝟏 | 𝐂𝐇𝟐 | 𝐂𝐇𝟑 ┈┒

❲ ❢ ❳ 𝘾𝙍𝙐𝙎𝙃 𝙊𝙉 ╰┈┈ 𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙓 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙤 ┈┈┒

[WARNINGS] -

[Summary] After the abduction of her brother, Trish Una is swept up into the dealings of Passione. Delivered by Periculo, she is left under the protection of La Squadra Esecuzioni, the hitman team. (And no, she’s totally not crushing on one of them.)

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

✺ 　 ·*

　 . 　　

　 ˚ 　 ✦ * 　 　

⋆ . . 　　 ✦ 　　　　　 ·. + 𝘽𝙇𝙀𝘼𝘾𝙃

* ⋆ 　　 ˚ 　　

　　　　　 ⋆ * . ⋆ ⊹

　 ⋆ *

❲☆❳ 𝙊𝙕𝙊𝙉𝙀 ╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

[Summary] “It’s pretty messed up… What you said about Momo and Izuru and I honestly don’t really know what to say about it right now. I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you… But in your own kind of twisted way,” she paused, looking at him in question, “you were a good guy weren’t you..?”

Gin didn’t so much as blink as he replied, “nah. Never was, never will be. But ya make me wanna be one.”

GinRan post TYBW and more.

╰┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 ┈┒

#repost #my fics #my writing

[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.

#neganxreader #twd negan fanfiction #the walking dead negan #negan x oc slow burn #twd negan #negan #neganxoc #negan x y/n #negan fanfiction #twd negan slowburn #negan slowburn #twd negan fanfic #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead negan fan fic #twd neganxoc #twd oc #twd oc fanfiction

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Sweet as Sugar Masterlist

Summary: Jensen’s not like the other sugar daddies - he doesn’t want to mix money with love or sex. But meeting Y/N might have him changing his mind.

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Jensen x Reader

Tags: daddy kink, sugar daddy!Jensen, sugar baby!reader, fluff, romance, some angst, teasing, flirting, age gap (Jensen is 42, reader is 19), slow burn

A/Ns: Jensen isn’t married and doesn’t have kids in this fic. This entire fic is for my "Slow Burn" square on my "Tell Me a Story" bingo run by @supernatural-jackles​​ ❤️

Subscribe for early access!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight (FIN)

#Sweet as Sugar #sugardaddy!Jensen #Jensen ackles #jensen x reader #tmas bingo #slowburn #fluff #romance #angst #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles fanfic #fanfiction #rpf fanfic #spn rpf #negans-lucille-tblr

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 1. Darling Princess

Next

After the sneak peak tested well I decided to post the first chapter. I have many more already written and in the making but I’ll only post them if this gets a good reaction so please if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

Sucking on another cigarette the stale tobacco burned your throat in a way you would’ve been disgusted by years ago. You looked out your window down at the gate, walkers pulling at it to try and get in. It had been a couple of years since Negan took power and more than long enough for you to feel trapped. You held the smoke in your lungs, a small part of your brain wishing it would ignite inside you and let you combust, before letting it out slow and smooth. Luxuries like this were meant to last. Another luxury was the leather loveseat you were sitting on, and the black and blue mosaic coffee table your feet and ashtray were on, and the acoustic gibson on your lap.

You placed the smoke between your lips to free your hand so you could strum the strings. You were playing an old rock balled your old man had taught you what felt like a life-time ago. He didn’t teach you to play guitar but when you came back from scouts playing campfire songs he insisted on teaching you some real music. You thought back on how many of his guitar strings you broke before that Christmas he bought you your own Washburn. The strings seemed to break less when the instrument was more your size. Those memories felt so distant now. As if they belonged to another person or were part of a movie you watched. The lyrics of the tune you were playing were on the cusp of coming back to you when your door opened violently somewhere behind you.

“My dearest daughter” Negan spoke as he entered your private room. You likened his new way of talking to that of a TV presenter. Always having to keep people on their toes. You used to think it funny when you were a kid but it wasn’t part of his personality then. “What are you doing here? Dinner was half an hour ago.”

“I’m not hungry” you shot back not even turning to face him, which would have been easy since the chair sat with its side to the window, but the walkers chewing on the fence were far more interesting.

“Y/N, don’t lie to me. You said the same at breakfast.” He sauntered over. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Lucille wasn’t with him.

“Food I didn’t earn doesn’t sate my appetite” you shot back, leaning forward to put out your smoke in the ashtray. That must have stirred something within him because the next thing you know you were grabbed by your arm and dragged out of your room, the guitar hitting the ground with a sorry sound. You let him drag you without protest, knowing better.

You were pulled into a plush dining room, immaculately furnished with white cushioned chair and a long oak table, set with silver cutlery. There were five sets in total for you, your father, and three of his ‘wives’. You figured this was some sort of ‘happy family’ play he’d act out but you didn’t know who the viewer was. You? The wives? The men? Or maybe knowing you didn’t want to be here was entertainment enough.

You were shoved into a chair next to the head of the table across from Frankie. She looked comfortable while nursing her drink but you reckoned that wasn’t her first. In front of her sat a bottle of vodka, distilled on-site by worker number 12. Fat Joey was filling the bowls with soup when your father shoved your chair in. He plopped himself into the chair next to you at the head of the table.

“Now isn’t this nice. A big happy family dinner before your old man takes off tomorrow.” You didn’t dignify him with a reply, instead motioning to the bottle of vodka in front of you. 

“May I have some, Frankie?” she looked at the bottle then smiled at you 

“Go ahead, Princess”. You picked up the bottle and filled your glass half-way to spite her for that nickname. 

“Thank you” you tried to be civil, as badly as you wanted to just walk off with the bottle, you sipped your glass instead.

You silently started the soup. The veggies were cut into large pieces. Perfect, chewing gave you a reason not to talk to the dickhead to your left. Your eyes were too buried in your soup to see the other two wives staring at you and your father who was boring holes into your head with his eyes.

“How was your day, Y/N?” Tanya perked up

“Same as yours” you replied with a mouth full of carrot and potato

Silence

“Where are you going tomorrow Negan?” Nicolle added.

“Ladies.” Your father spoke out, his tone showing his distinct lack of patience. “I’m not an idiot. I can tell that our darling daughter doesn’t want to share our company.”

“I made that obvious in my room.” Your spoon fell gracelessly into your bowl. “Why am I here?!” 

He reached over and rubbed your cheek affectionately. “Because I love you. And!” he punctuated the final word by raising a finger in front of your face, a silent cue to wait. He stood up from his chair and took off out of the room and down the hall. You took this moment to talk to his wives.

“You don’t have to be nice to me,” you said before starting to shovel soup into your mouth.

“Like hell, we don't.” Frankie retorted, earning a short child from one of the others. You chuckled and swallowed the food in your mouth. You picked up your glass and gestured it at Frankie

“Take notes, Ladies. Frankie doesn’t try bullshit on me” Frankie gestured her glass back. You guessed she’d been in a similar situation, forced to get along with people because it was easier. She didn’t try to be your friend because you knew you wouldn’t appreciate it, which in a weird turn of events you appreciated.

Your father arrived back. It was now you noticed he was a lot cleaner than usual, even the signature leather jacket had left him. Now you were alarmed. In his hands was a pink box with a purple bow. He placed it in front of you and kissed the top of your head. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

“Is it my birthday?” you asked, not quite sure. Time had become a blur since the end of the world. You pushed your bowl away to bring the box in front of you.

“Give or take a few months. I know I’ve missed a couple what with...everything...so this will count for at least one of them.” He placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a little squeeze, your own hand finding its way on top “There’s a lot more gifts coming for my princess, don't you worry.” You couldn’t help the smile that came to you, giggling slightly. You looked up at him, seeing nothing but unconditional love being sent back your way 

“Dad, it’s alright.” You smiled and turned back to your gift. The wives were now watching, captivated by this little bit of humanity at the end of it all. You gingerly opened the bow and lifted the lid off.

Inside lay a military knife, clearly hand-made on-site with a beautiful leather handle and your name carved into the side in cursive. You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. You picked it up, finding it fits in your hand perfectly. 

“It’s beautiful” you near-whispered, watching as the candle lights hit against the metal. In a moment it was lodged in the table a mere inch from Tanya’s hand. You kicked back your chair, making your father step back, and grabbed the vodka bottle in one motion. “Now if only I had a reason to fucking use it” you spat as you stormed out of the room.

Back in your room, you sat in the corner with your head against the cold-glass window, looking down at the dead, only illuminated by the moon. You had killed so many of them before arriving at Sanctuary. Hell, you’d say you saved your old man’s ass more than he saved you...but he was a people’s person. Ruthless. But a people’s person. ‘Let me do my thing and I’ll have these assholes sucking my dick in days’.

That was a different age. Back when your father was a teacher. Back when your mother was sick. Back when your father cheated on her with anything with a pulse and she took it out on you. Back when your mother’s treatment and your father’s lifestyle drained your college fund and you had to enlist. Back when she’d attack you, both emotionally and physically, and you took it cause you knew she was in pain.  Back when you had come home from a 16-month mission because her condition had worsened. Back when the world went to shit. Back when you had to put her down because your sleazeball of a father wasn’t man enough to do it. You looked down at the dead and thought, if you reached your hands through the wires...you could be back with your mom.

Your door opened slowly, heavy footsteps coming your way. There was no need to look. Only one person would enter your room without knocking. “You scared Tanya back there, Princess.” your father spoke in a low voice. 

“She can take it” you croaked, a clear sign you had been crying. He kneeled down beside you. In the reflection of the window, you could see him holding out the knife.

“Please take it.” You turned around, your back now pressed to the window.

“Why?”

“You need to be able to protect yourself”

“Give me a gun then”

“No.”

“Why? Scared I’d leave.” You took a swig of your drink. 

“I see you’re upset-”

“Do you?! Do you really?” you cut him short, stumbling to your feet using the window to push yourself up. “Why am I upset? Because I eat food I don’t deserve? Because you make people die for me? Because you have me trapped in a fucking tower like Repunzel or some shit!?” That earned a chuckle from him, which only served to piss you off. “I should be down there earning my bit just like everyone else.”

“Do we have to go over this again?” He sighed dramatically. He cupped your face, the knife now dangerously close to you. “You're my daughter Y/N. My darling baby girl. My precious princess”

“I was twenty-six when this shit hit, dad” you mumbled through your squished cheeks. He gave them a little loving slap.

“You're valuable to me, which means some people might want to hurt you. You eat to stay alive, people die because they’re stupid, and you live in this room on this floor so you can be kept safe.” you blew him off with a wave of your hand and an angry sigh. You pushed passed him to your bed, twirling to sit on it and start taking off your combat boots. He walked over and lodged the knife in your headboard before kneeling down to look up at you. “I have to go out for a while. Find this Rick Grimes asshole and get some payback for the fifteen men he killed at our outpost.”

A chill went up your spine “The one near the hilltop settlement” you whispered. 

“That’s right.” You looked him in the eye, not noticing how your lip quivered.

“You don’t have too.” you didn’t know if it was the booze or genuine worry for human life but you found yourself begging. “We have more than enough peo-” he shushed you soothingly, his hand coming up to your cheek, rubbing soothing circles. 

“Oh but you know I have too, and while I’m gone I don’t want anyone to get ideas on what they can do to you so” he nodded towards the knife. You pulled it out of the wall, looking it over before nodding, mouthing ‘okay’ and depositing it in your nightstand table. He kissed your forehead before leaving, wishing you a good night. Once again alone you took two large gulps of your drink and laid down.

Edit: For creative reasons Y/N is now 26 at the beginning of the apocalypse instead of the original 24

#daughter x negan #daughter reader #daughter reader x negan #twd negan #the walking dead negan #the walking dead #twd #twd reader insert #twd imagine #twd y/n #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead tv #twd tv #slowburn #AJ's Negan's Daughter AU

[takeiteasypeasybaby]

Save Me: Chapter 18 - Angel or Devil?

~Hey guys! Chapter 18 has just been released ❤️ This is a dark chapter, so I’m just forewarning everyone that if anyone is triggered by sexual assault/rape then avoid this chapter. As always, love you guys and stay safe ✌🏻~

Molly and Negan were unstoppable, inseparable. Or so they thought? With Molly being put into harms way because of Negan, will he ever be able to forgive himself?

A couple days had passed since Negan and I came out as a official couple.

He always joked that we were now the King and Queen of the Sanctuary but I just rolled my eyes every time.

I was nice though, seeing him this genuinely happy.

But, in my heart, I knew it wasn't meant to last. Things right now were too perfect.

I had officially moved into Negan's room and now my room was like an office.

I guess this was what he meant way back when, when he asked me to help him run this place one day.

Negan was still the leader of course but now people knelt when I walked by too.

It was a curious feeling, it felt dated and wrong but at the same time it was exhilarating.

I felt like I was worth something, like people depended on me, more so than people ever did back home.

Sure, some people talked, but I didn't care because the majority were happy for both of us and I think that a lot of people liked having me by his side to calm his moments of rage.

There were far less punishments after all.

But some would always blame me and call Negan weak, especially Simon.

This was made worse by Negan's decision to demote him.

'There's my girl' Negan said smirking and sauntering up to me in the main hall.

He wrapped an arm around my waist as I was taking inventory of the food stuffs.

'You don't have to do that' Negan said confusedly.

I sighed 'I know, but I want to. I can't just parade around here without pulling my weight' I said turning around to face him.

'Well, all I'm saying is that you won't have time to do that once you accept your new position' he said smiling excitedly.

I tilted my head in confusion, 'what position? I thought we talked about that' I said in a hushed tone so no one could hear, even though all eyes were on us.

'I know that you're my partner darlin, but I need someone by my side in all operations, and you'd be goddamn perfect for that' he said softly and still smiling eagerly.

I looked at him hesitantly.

'Are you asking me to become your right hand man...I mean woman?' I whispered, he just nodded while smirking.

I sighed, 'but I'm not a Saviour?' I said slowly.

'I know that doll and I get that this is a lot, but I can't trust anyone else' he said softly.

'Besides, I've already given Si his notice' he said nonchalantly.

My eyes widened at this.

'You did what?!' I yelled in a strained whisper which now people could hear.

'He already hates me enough' I said sternly.

'So what if the asshole's threatened by you, maybe it'll kick him up the ass enough to get back in line' he said scowling.

I sighed and asked 'can I at least think about it?'.

He nodded in response as I walked back out of the hall.

Negan stayed in the hall, people asking him questions as I left.

I thought we had agreed on my position, but apparently not.

I rubbed my neck in frustration as I walked down the hall which was dimly lit for some reason.

There was silence, you could hear a pin drop.

Only the sound of my footsteps echoing down the hallway, when suddenly a large arm grabbed me at the corner and pulled me against the wall.

It was darker now, but I could make out the face.

It was Simon.

He shoved me forcefully against the wall, I winced at his aggression.

'What the hell do you want?!' I shouted.

'You. It seems, that around here you have nine fucking lives honey, so I'm gonna teach you a lesson' he snarled as he pinned my arms by my sides.

He was far stronger than I was.

'Help!' I screamed as he put his hand over my mouth, he chuckled sinisterly.

'Don't worry, I've made sure that Negan is occupied. He won't hear you, no one will' he said grinning viciously at me.

Although he had my arms pinned down, my legs weren't.

With all my might I collided my knee with his balls.

He winced and weakened his grip immediately.

I tried to get away but he pulled me back by my hair and landed a punch straight to my face.

I crashed down to the concrete floor immediately, the impact of the surface colliding with my head knocked me almost unconscious.

He punched me over and over, in my stomach, my legs, my face he left relatively untouched.

I was weakened, floating in and out of consciousness, lying on the floor and blood gushing out of my nose and cheek.

The shock concealed my pain until after.

I heard him unbuckling his jeans and I knew what was coming.

He pinned down my arms, digging into my skin as his weight crushed me.

I was numb, frozen and unable to move. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

A short while later, he stood up and spat venomously 'now I get what Negan was talking about'.

He pulled up his jeans and said 'now, you tell Negan about any of this, I give the heads up to my guys to kill your sister Tara, might even let them rape her first. Depends how I'm feeling. Oh, and tell your boyfriend that you want me to get my position back'.

He chuckled as he walked back down the corridor, leaving me there in a pool of blood on the floor.

Even after he left, I still felt him on me like I was somehow infected.

I lay there, shaking as tears continued to roll down my face, mixing with my blood.

As soon as I heard footsteps getting louder and louder, I knew someone was coming and I remembered what Simon had said.

I couldn't tell anyone.

I tried to gather myself back up and scrambled at the ground to pull myself off of the floor when I figure stopped dead in front of me.

Sherry.

I quaked and shivered in front of her, my entire body revealing cuts and bruises.

Her eyes widened as she was stunned to silence, 'oh my god' she whispered.

'Oh my god, Molly. Molly are you okay? What the hell happened?' she asked rushing over to me frantically.

As soon as I saw her face, I broke down.

Tears rolled more ferociously down my face now, I stuttered and scrambled to make words come out of my mouth.

She hushed me as talking made me more nervous, instead she held me up and stroked my hair as she brought me to my room.

There was no one else down the corridor, just me and Sherry.

Her eyes were filled with tears like mine at my pain.

She held me up all the way to my door and laid me gently down onto my bed.

'Shhh, I'm here now. I'm here. You're okay. You're safe now' she repeated as she stroked my hair.

'I'm gonna get Dr Carson to check you out. I'll lock the door behind me, don't worry' she said calmly as she walked towards the door.

She knew exactly what had happened without even asking.

I didn't know whether that was comforting or worrying, thinking the same might have happened to her.

'No, please Sherry! No one can know!' I yelled in between tears.

'You could get an infection and I'm not losing you. I'll make sure no one is around okay? Trust me' she said calmly.

I just nodded slightly.

I lay there, still until the Doctor came.

When he saw the state of me, he was overwhelmed.

'Molly, Dr Carson is gonna take a look at you, okay?' Sherry said quietly as she guided the Doctor into my room.

He sat nervously on the edge of the bed as he scanned over my bruises and cuts.

'Molly, the Doctor will need to touch you, is that okay?' Sherry asked nervously, I just nodded while I closed my eyes tightly.

I hated the thought of anyone touching me after what I went through, but I just kept thinking that the quicker I healed, the sooner I could see Negan.

He checked for broken bones. There were none, just a sprained wrist.

He then disinfected and covered the cuts, stitched up the more open ones.

Finally, he slowly handed me a morning after pill. I looked at it for a second, so did Sherry.

That was when it hit me.

I took it with a sip of water and just lay there while the tears rolled down onto my cheeks which were burning from the bruises.

He left paracetamol for me, alongside some bandages and antiseptic.

I just nodded at him and he left.

Sherry could barely look at me, her eyes so full of sorrow.

'I-I am so sorry that this happened to you Molly' she said crying as she sat down next to me.

Her face now hardened with anger, 'who did this to you?' she asked sternly.

I looked away and took a deep breath.

'If I tell you, you have to promise me that you won't do anything about it' I said sternly as my voice was shaking.

'Molly...' she said softly.

'Promise me!' I yelled as tears continued to flow.

She just nodded softly, 'Simon' I said hesitantly.

She looked at me with wide eyes, in silence.

'But if you told Negan...' she said softly.

'No. If Negan finds out, Simon will kill my sister and I don't doubt that he has people ready to do it if he gives the word' I said softly.

'He has to pay for this' Sherry said, rage filling her body.

'He will, eventually. But not now and not soon' I said shaking my head.

'What about Negan? He'll want to see you?' she said worriedly.

I nodded, 'you'll think of something to tell him' I said seriously.

She looked at me with her eyes wider than before, 'what would I say?' she asked frantically.

'I don't know. But you have to promise me Sherry, that you won't let him see me. I need you to do this, for me and Tara' I begged.

She sighed and looked to the floor, 'The doctor won't tell and I'll tell Negan that you're ill, but you'll be fine' she said nodding at me in reassurance.

I smiled weakly at her and thanked her.

She then left me so I could rest.

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling for what felt like hours. I couldn't sleep, I didn't feel safe enough to do so.

Suddenly there was a gentle knock at the door, my eyes widened as a rush of anxiety came over me at the thought that it might be Negan.

'Darlin, let me in' he said calmly.

My eyes teared up at hearing his voice.

I shut my eyes tightly and prepared myself so I sounded like I wasn't in pain.

'I'm just about to go to sleep' I shouted from the other side of the door.

'Darlin just let me see you, please. Sherry said that you we're ill. I wanna take care of you' he said softly.

I could hear the pain in his voice. Tears flowed down my face.

All I wanted was to just open that door and have him hold me forever and tell me that everything would be okay.

But I couldn't.

I wiped my eyes and sniffled as I composed myself.

'I’m pretty tired, I just want to sleep and I've got the flu so I wouldn't want to make you ill too' I said, pressing myself against the door frame, trying to feel him through the wood.

'In sickness and in health darlin. Just let me in' he said now with worry in his voice.

'I’m fine, I promise' I said sternly.

'I thought you moved into my room? Why don't you sleep there? You'd be more comfortable and I could be there for you' he said as his voice was breaking revealing the hurt he was feeling, not knowing why I was being distant.

I clenched my eyes tightly shut in agony. Tears flooded my face at his pain and mine.

I took a deep breath, knowing what I needed to do.

'I just need some space.  The move was too soon and I don't want to be your right-hand guy. Please, just give me time' I said sternly.

He was silent on the other side for a few minutes.

'Do you love me?' he asked sternly as I heard him bang his head against the door.

I wiped away my tears.

'Of course I love you. I just need time to myself to think' I replied weakly.

'Goodnight' I said gently, which he didn't respond too.

I only knew he had left once I heard his footsteps get quieter and quieter.

I limped back into bed, scared because I knew full well that he couldn't give this up.

He would come to my door every night and beg me to let him in.

A week later...

After a week of trying he came once more.

'Darlin, you better move back from this door because I'm about to break it down' he said sternly.

I gasped as his men broke the lock and the door swung open to reveal Negan standing there in front of me with three of his guys.

My bruises had faded slightly but they were still visible.

He just stared at me, tears forming in his eyes at the pain I was in.

'Leave us' he said sternly to his guys who immediately nodded and walked away.

Negan shut the broken door somewhat behind him.

'What the fuck happened?' he said, rage filling his body as he walked slowly towards me.

I tried to hold back my tears and fear.

'Nothing, I was sparring with someone and got hit. I'm fine' I said cooly as I moved away from his gaze and pulled my boots on.

'You're not fucking fine. You have bruises all up your arms' he said as he tried to reach out to touch me gently.

I flinched and yelled 'don't touch me!'.

He looked at me in confusion and worry. 'Darlin...' he said worriedly, making me fight back my tears once again.

'I said I'm fine' I said sternly as I turned and walked out of the door.

He paced after me. 'I don't believe you. I know you, you are the love of my goddamn life so I know when you're not telling me something' he yelled after me.

'Did someone hurt you?' he said slowly as he stopped in front of me.

I looked into his eyes, trying hard not to cry.

'No one hurt me, it was an accident then I got ill okay?' I said as I kept on walking, trying not to look at him.

'I need you to leave me alone, please. I need space' I said as I walked faster.

He stopped dead and didn't respond.

Silence echoed through the corridor, he had let me go...

#negan x original female character #twd negan #negan #negan imagine #twd fanfiction #negan fanfiction #slowburn #thewalkingdead #jdm #twd #jeffreydeanmorgan #negan smut #slow build #twdromance

[negansmistress1987]

Masterlist for MINE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

#negan fanfiction #negan #twd negan #the walking dead negan #negan imagine #negan x oc #walking dead #smut #slowburn

[krkekcnehx]

Negan’s Rose - Chapter 1

Word count: 2351

Warnings: mentions of hunger pains.

This is my very first chapter of my very first fic. This just kinda sets up the character and lets you get to know her a bit. More exciting things are to come in the next chapters. If you read this, thank you !!!

—————————————————————

Chapter 1

You had been on your own for four months before everything changed. You had managed fine at first, finding an old barn about a mile off of a small stream that ran through the trees. You were lucky to have a source of fresh water and used it to wash yourself and your clothes, making you more presentable than the average survivor. When you investigated the barn for the first time it was completely empty apart from a few bales of hay that you had used as a makeshift mattress. There were no signs of life in the barn so you hesitantly made it your home for the time being. You spent the time scavenging in the small neighbourhood close by, it was a three mile walk each time however your scarce food supply was slowly depleting and you had hopes of finding others you could join. You were a natural introvert before all of this and you thrived being on your own. You loved curling up with a good book and a mug of hot tea while the sound of the rain calmed your mind after a busy day at work, but those cozy days were over and circumstance had forced you to become a people person. Over the weeks you were becoming weaker and weaker, the hunger pains getting worse. You were gonna have to go further out if you had any chance at finding new supplies and food.

You awoke at sunrise and the familiar dull hunger hit you immediately. You sipped on some water you had collected from the stream the night before, hoping it would briefly soothe the ache before you had to resort to eating the last of your food. With weak shaky hands you combed your hair through with your fingers before securing it in a tight braid the way your mother had taught you as a child, letting it rest on your neck. You had picked up the ginger gene from her side of the family and got your looks from her too. Your porcelain pale skin contrasted against your bright golden hair and red lips. You were the centre of a lot of attention before the world went to shit. Men liked you. You were witty and charming and had striking good looks. It could disarm a man and make him fall to his knees, but a year of surviving in this world had taken a toll on you and it was evident, with your protruding cheek bones and deep set eyes as green as the forest. You had dark circles and you looked and felt weak, not remembering the last time you had had a decent meal. Any muscle mass you had gained was withering away and your ribs were beginning to become prominent. Adapting to this new world was tough, you hated violence and couldn’t use a gun to save yourself. Literally. Guns were never your thing and your mother taught you to use violence as an absolute last resort. This wasn’t much of a problem in the old world as you could talk your way out of most things, manipulating the situation to your advantage. You had an incredible gift for reading people and a sharp, quick sense of humour which you assumed you picked up from your father, your mother telling you stories of how he had smooth talked and charmed her. This had helped you in the past when you came across other survivors, convincing them to trust you and let you join their groups. You never had any bad intentions but you knew that you had to convince them you didn’t anyway, they were wary of who to take in, naturally. But you knew you couldn’t rely solely on your personality and had to adapt your mentality as you navigated through this new world, forcing yourself to learn to use a knife. You had only killed a handful of walkers and it didn’t get any easier each time. Your breath still caught in your throat whenever you came face to face with them as you forced yourself to unfreeze and defend yourself.

You double checked your back pack making sure you had everything before you set off. Water bottle, a spare knife, a small blanket, the last granola bar you were down to and an old tattered photo of your mother and your older brother. You traced the outline of their faces with your fingers, losing yourself momentarily in memories of a past life. This was your only family and not knowing where they were, if they were even alive ate away at you, however you were good at repressing these things. The absence of your father growing up had rendered you cold and taught you to lower your expectations. You failed to form meaningful bonds with the groups you were a part of before so as not to get hurt, but this left you extremely lonely. On multiple occasions your mind retreated to a familiar dark place and you had thought about ending it, but you were strong like your brother and kept on going. You knew that there were other people out there you just had to find them.

You took another sip of water, the hunger still gnawing away at you as you tried to hold off on eating the last of your food for as long as you could manage. You always kept your boots on in case you had to run. You tied your plaid shirt around your waist over the only t-shirt you had, an old faded camp shirt that was another reminder of your past life. The summer had been harsh and unrelenting and scavenging and walking miles in the Georgia heat had been brutal, constantly testing your thirst however it was coming to an end and you knew the winter was going to be even worse if you didn’t find somewhere more secure. You slumped your denim jacket over your shoulders and put on your backpack before leaving the small barn, knife at the ready. You would miss your makeshift home that had sheltered you from the world, but you hoped someone else would find it once you had left. You didn’t know exactly where you were going but you wanted to make it to the small town a few miles away before the sun rose fully in the sky. You made your way through the woods, the familiar ache in your legs from your daily hiking trips to the water stream resurfacing as you picked up your pace. The sun was still rising so the woods were dusky, gloomy but peaceful. You walked for about two hours before you reached the long dirt road that led to the town. You allowed yourself to stop for a rest, stretching your legs and taking the smallest sip of water, knowing you had to conserve it for the day. You balled your hands into fists and pushed your stomach inwards, tricking it into feeling full to try and distract yourself from the growing hunger pains, a trick a former leader of an old group had taught you.

The silence you had become accustomed to was suddenly interrupted as you heard the snarl of a walker emerging from the other side of the trees. Walkers were rare when you were deep in the forest and you only had to deal with the occasional straggler, however you were edging closer to your destination and knew that there would be more walkers ahead. You quickly grabbed ahold of your knife taking a deep breath and in one swift move brought it down on the poor thing’s skull, instantly silencing it. You couldn’t help but wander if he - No, it- you reminded yourself had a family before all of this. You swiftly pushed that thought aside knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Even though it was smaller than you and weak, killing it had used a lot of your energy and you were starting to feel faint. You knew you were going to have to regain some strength if you were going to walk another hour and a half until you reached the town -Fuck it- you thought reaching into your backpack for the granola bar. You struggled to even open it, using more strength than you had as you took a small bite, appreciating how it felt in your mouth, the maple syrup it was coated in feeling sweet on your tongue. It was like heroin. You chewed slowly and deliberately, savouring it as you broke up the rest of it into three parts before putting it securely into your pocket, saving it for later.

You wanted to curl up in a ball on the dirt road for a few moments, your whole body exhausted and hungry. You had no time to stop and rest as you saw another walker emerge from the trees about 40 feet away from you. It was slowly making its way towards you however it was big and you knew it could easily overpower you in your current state. You forced your feet to move, ignoring the burn in your chest. You were faster than the walkers. If I keep walking it can’t get to me. This was the mentality you adopted for the rest of the day.

You had been walking for about an hour and had put some distance between you and the now group of walkers that had gathered. There was about five of them and even though you were practically running you still looked back at every chance you got. You came across the familiar sign for the town, telling you you were half a mile off. Not long now. Then you can rest. You kept a steady pace as you sipped on your water. The town came into view on the horizon, little houses and stores all lined up. You had lost the walkers that were trailing you and you were hoping the town was as empty as it was when you had re searched it for the hundredth time the week before. You felt the familiar heeby jeebies as you made your way down the desolate street, desperately wishing you had someone with you, the loneliness getting to you. It was times like this you wish your brother was here to crack a joke. You couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed.

You stopped outside a house you had searched before knowing it was free of walkers. You cautiously searched the lower half of the house, checking the kitchen, living room and small bathroom making sure to check behind every door. You made your way up the staircase methodically doing the same thing in all the rooms. Once you were convinced the house was still empty you made your way to one of the bedrooms. You had to deal with your hunger straight away as it was becoming all consuming. You found the rest of your granola bar and told yourself you were only going to eat two pieces of it, saving the third but you lacked the self control and ate it all. The burn in your stomach eased a little bit as the food settled, however the panic set in as you realised you were down to no food supplies. You tried to calm yourself down by familiarising yourself with the room. You would deal with your food problem after you had rested. You had been in here before but only to search for walkers.

You tried to tell from the decor who it belonged to. The walls were a pale pink colour and were covered in band posters and fairy lights that had been strung up. The batteries were long dead but you could imagine what the room looked like with them switched on. Looking closer, you saw photos taped to the wall in a heart shaped montage. The photos were of a young girl, maybe 16/17 with all of her friends, smiling and laughing. She had blue eyes as clear as swimming pools in July and long blonde windswept hair. You instantly felt a pang of sadness for this beautiful stranger as you realised you were standing in the remnants of this girl’s life. You made your way over to the dresser and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, letting out a small gasp. Your hair was hanging loosely out of its braid and you noticed how long it had grown, well past your shoulders. Your cheekbones were sharper and your face looked hollow, devoid of any colour from your lack of food and rest. Your already pale complexion not doing you any favours. You took your hair down from it’s braid taking a moment to try and unwind all the knots. Your body desperately needed sleep and more food but you wanted to feel human again. You didn’t even recognise yourself. You opened the dresser drawer and searched around for a hairbush, finding moisturisers, hair products and perfumes and took the moment to rub some cream into your face, pretending for a brief moment that you were just a normal teenager in a normal world getting ready for school. You weren’t starving, lonely or tired, you were simply moisturising. Your skin tingled at the sensation, not used to being pampered after a year of a makeup less world. You kept searching for a brush when your hand touched smooth metal, it was a tin. You suddenly remembered your teenage years when you hid your diaries in your sock drawers and left little notes for the future you to find. This girl wouldn’t want a stranger snooping around in her things and you felt guilty for a moment, but she could have some hidden cigarettes or medical supplies. What you would give for a cigarette. You knew smoking was a horrible habit but it was your vice before all of this. Curiosity got the better of you and you hesitantly opened it, not believing what you had found. Tears of happiness threatened to spill over as your searched the small tin. It was packed full with chocolate, beef jerky, gummy candies and peanuts. You had found this strangers snack stash.

#negans thirst squad #negan fanfic #negan #negan fic #negan x oc #twd negan #slowburn #the walking dead #twd

[juuuulez]

📰 | part nine: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers, finally they kiss, enemies with benefits, based on s7 finale, secret relationship except they’re not in a relationship, Carl almost dies.

summary: Alexandria has regained their power, and Carl narrowly escapes death. Finally, your feelings catch up to each other. Season 7 finale.

-> masterlist <-

okay!!!! FINALLY i got this done! this will be our LAST sorta canon chapter, because we all know the tragedy of season 8……so now i’m diverging the story into my own canon ;)

also entering a new phase of the carl and reader relationship..definitely a more exciting one! don’t worry, it’s still slowburn, just a bit more heated!

You were trying your best to ignore Carl, the past couple of days. Maybe you were a tad embarrassed that he’d seen you during a vulnerable moment. There was a part of your brain that still hadn’t accepted it, and knew that being around Carl would only remind you, that you’d receive the brunt of his sympathy.

Sympathy was not what you wanted.

But as always, sooner or later, you wound up within those walls once more.

Tensions were high.

They had weapons, too many of them. This surely wasn’t it, right? The Saviours had been through worse. But these people were like cockroaches, their spirit didn’t die, they kept coming back up and rebelling. You were getting sick of it. Negan was, too.

Everything went sideways when Sasha’s zombified corpse fell out of the coffin. It all ramped up too quickly, and before you knew it, there was gunfire.

It was relatively easy to get under control, yet still, there was always that voice that wondered if this would do it, this is the fight that kills you. It never does, yet you consider it.

A few members of Alexandria are killed in the process. One you take with your metal bat, disarming the man initially, yet his persistence to live claws at your feet, dragging you down onto the concrete. He’d pulled a knife from his sheath, trying to stab you, leaving you to finally crack the bat down onto his skull.

You were a high ticket item, I guess. It’s a surprise nobody else was itching for this chance to end your life.

Eventually, it all dies down. You take a moment to wipe the blood off your hands, trying to catch your breath and regain your composure before stepping back into the chaos.

When you do, a frown fills your features. Not exactly at upset expression, just something pensive.

Carl and Rick, on their knees. You weren’t listening to Negan, likely able to guess what he’s saying. What he wants. God forbid you try to stop it.

In fact, you didn’t want to.

Carl grit his jaw to ignore that urge to get up, to fight, to try to escape. He glared across the grass, practically into your soul. It wasn’t an urge for help, just a pointed look. This is what your family does.

If this was it, if he died, he’d want you to see it. Maybe just to rub it in your face, that he’d died for a noble cause, whilst you’d eventually fall victim to the uprising of Alexandria. At least, that’s how Carl saw it happening.

When the countdown ends, he unconsciously tenses, eyes screwed shut to combat confronting whatever happens next.

Were you really going to do nothing?

And yet it doesn’t happen.

Shiva mauled a nearby Saviour, taking the attention off of him, and back onto the simmering rebellion. Carl recovers quickly from the shock of near death, forced to rejoin the fight, even if his mind is still reeling.

Maybe he thought you were softening up, after that night in the cabin. It had humanised you. This sort of reversed all that.

The gunfire become unruly, and it was clear who was winning. If this was any indication of the future, then the Saviours were at the end of the line, and Carl was more than happy for it.

He’d managed to escape into a narrow alleyway between two houses, hoping to sneak around and get behind the enemy group, take them by surprise.

However, he makes it a few paces down the alley, before crossing into the gravel path behind the buildings. His senses are sharpened, luckily, for within seconds a dense mass is swinging at his head.

Carl narrowly avoids the bat, ducking fast enough that it swings into the house, getting caught in the wooden boards. They splinter around the metal, concaving inwards, rendering it stuck.

“Fuck!” You swear, tugging with all your might to free it, knowing it’s your only weapon. The adrenaline still pumps through your veins, moreso focused on rearming yourself, less on Carl finally standing within your vicinity.

There’s no doubt he’s angry, hence why you need your weapon back, pulling furiously to try and break the wooden confines. It’s too late, because then Carl harshly shoves your shoulder, pushing you away from the trapped baseball bat.

“What the hell was that?” He sneers, finally letting the frustration and fear towards almost dying pour out. “He was going to kill me, and you just watched?”

You roll your eyes, that snarky attitude resurfacing, reverting to this version of yourself that doesn’t care. “He wasn’t, alright? You would’ve been fine.”

The assurance means nothing, for Carl still invades your space, his face practically inches from your own. “Bullshit!” He yells.

In response, you shove him away. It sends the boy stumbling back into the alley, and the second he’s regained his footing, he’s trying to push you against the wall.

It’s almost childish, the way you fight. Pushing and shoving like toddlers, yet with the strength of two teenagers, fueled by years of surviving and adapting and hormones.

You manage to sweep your foot out, tripping Carl up, letting him fall to the ground. Before he can try to get up, which he attempts immediately, you’re pinning him to the ground, planted firmly on his chest.

One hand lands on your neck, almost putting enough pressure to choke you. Carl’s other hand grips your waist, trying to push you off him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” He shouts, despite how close you are, “You want me dead, huh? After all that bullshit—“

“Shut up!” You yell, cutting him off, slamming your hand over his mouth. It tastes salty like sweat, and little bits of dirt are pressed into his face, but Carl can’t do much but let it happen.

With him finally silenced, you manage to take a few deep breaths, trying to organise your thoughts. You two glare at eachother, before you slowly remove your hand, lifting it away from him.

“You—“ Carl attempts again, only for your palm to reclaim his face. This time you pinch his cheeks with your pointer and thumb, causing a disgruntled expression to overtake his features, trying again to squirm from your grasp.

“Don’t talk.” You hiss, this time not letting go, just needing him to be quiet whilst you try and explain.

That, and it felt a little good to put him in his place. But you didn’t have time to savour the feeling, for Carl tightens his grip on your neck, forcing you to hurry with the explanation.

“Negan is not going to hurt you,” You try to tell him, speaking slowly and clearly, wanting to get it into his thick skull. “Let alone kill you. Okay?”

The suggestion causes Carl to try and protest, likely having ten billion reasons why he thinks otherwise, but you’re quick to silence him with a firm grip on his jaw. He shoots you an irritated look, yet remains quiet.

“As long as you’re alive, we can control Rick,” You explain, “The second something happens to you, he stops caring. Right now, you’re the only leverage we have. So, Negan bluffs. I mean, c’mon, you really thought he was gonna do that?”

Carl gives no response, maybe because he’s thinking about it. But you give him the benefit of the doubt, loosening your hold on his jaw, yet leaving your hand there. The pair of you are still panting, and Carl struggles to breathe slightly under your weight on his chest. As such, you shift down a little, but still remain atop him.

For some reason, you keep talking. Maybe there is an inkling of regret, a bubbling guilt over just standing and observing whilst Carl confronted potentially imminent death.

“But that doesn’t mean you get ‘t do stupid stuff, yeah? Especially not now. Things are getting messy, and now you’ve all got guns, so.. I dunno, don’t get cocky, because we can still punish you for it.” You ramble on.

Carl stays silent, letting you run your mouth. He’s not really listening. This is the closest you’ve been before, and you’re practically sitting in his lap, knees planted either side of his thighs whilst you hover.

The hand on your waist remains, settled there, feeling the warmth of your body. That white tank you always wear is thin, dirtied from todays fight, and rides up just enough to reveal a slither of your stomach. God, this is so irrational. But right now, you’re looking less like the enemy, and more like a pretty girl.

Somehow, you’re still talking, rambling about how these next few days will be dangerous, and how Carl should watch out for any surprise Saviour visits. How Negan will be trying to catch everybody off guard.

You’re not even looking at him, staring down at the dirt next to you whilst your mind runs. Carl let’s his hand shift downwards from your waist, just a bit, wondering how low it could get before you caught on. Those tight black jeans, clinging to your form, have never been so tempting.

“That, and I don’t think..” You trail off when you notice Carl’s silence, finally becoming a little more aware of your position. He’s barely even paying attention. “Carl.”

His eyes flicker back up to you, from wherever they’d been looking at. You realise that he’s essentially eye-level with your chest, causing you to tug at his jaw, pulling his face up to force his attention back on you.

Neither of you speak, as Carl shifts a little, pushing himself into a sitting position, approaching in on your personal space. You stay put, on edge, trying to decipher what he’s up to. The hand on your waist travels lower, to your hip, whilst Carl’s grip on your neck loosens so he’s simply holding you.

“Carl.” You whisper again, almost as a warning, quickly catching on to what’s happening here. There’s still gunfire outside the alley, people fighting. That, and this is definitely a bad idea.

This isn’t the face of somebody who wants you dead. Carl is looking at you with an certain want in his eyes, and it’s precious and innocent yet dirty at the same time. For a second, you actually just feel like a teenage girl. Smitten.

Shaking your head, you try to look away from his face, his lips, his eyes. “We’re not doing this.” You whisper, and yet, make no attempt to get off him.

He clocks this, more aware than yourself of how much you might actually want this, even if you say otherwise. But he doesn’t make a move, trying to coax you into a position of agreement, like he needs to hear you say it first. “C’mon, just a little bit.” Carl whispers back, and you can feel his breath on your face.

It’s ridiculous that you’ve let it get this far. You try to consider all the consequences, all the reasons this is stupid, but your brain feels all foggy and mushy. It takes the slightest movement and your lips are brushing together.

You pull back before it can even be called a kiss. Just the tiniest bit, brows furrowed, looking slightly worried. Carl doesn’t chase you down. He doesn’t move, allowing you to take the lead, as if trusting that you do want this. And you do.

That’s why you go back again.

This time, your lips actually meet, and it’s hesitant and awkward at first. But it doesn’t take long to find your footing. One hand still holds onto Carl’s jaw, tilting his head back slightly, giving you access to lick into his mouth. The other hand shifts into his hair, thumb brushing against the back of his neck, fingers gently twirling in the brown locks.

They’re soft. You’d thought so.

Carl leans backwards so he’s laying down, letting you properly sit on his lap. His arms are wrapped around you, hands planted firmly on your ass over those tight jeans, tugging you further down into his body.

You’ve never kissed someone like this before. Neither has he. The adrenaline in your veins pumps hard, urging you to claim his mouth as your own, to which Carl eagerly kisses back.

Eventually, you have to pull away for air, resting your forehead against Carl’s. Your lips are red and swollen from the kissing, coated in a sheen of spit, an expression mirrored on his features. Except that after a moment of breathing, Carl begins to grin, which makes your expression sour.

“Don’t.” You grunt, not wanting to hear whatever he has to say.

But Carl shakes his head, the movement small to not disturb your rest against him. “I just think you look pretty from this angle.”

You still roll your eyes, even if the compliment settles it’s way into your heart, making an unfamiliar warmth spread in your chest. The blush on your face must be evident, because Carl moves his hands upwards, settling over your waist and holding you close to him.

“I’ve gotta go. They’re still fighting.” You remind him, voice lowered to a hushed whisper due to the proximity of the situation. It’s weird, being this intimate and private with Carl. The person you hate more than anything.

His grip tightens on you a little more, holding firmly so that Carl can roll over, placing you down on the dirty path, leaning over your form. “Or I could take you hostage.” He suggests, a wicked grin on his face. So cute.

You don’t know if he’s being serious, but you don’t really care. That’s why you’re drawn to him. Because Carl is one of the few people who isn’t afraid to challenge you.

“That’s not happening,” You scoff, “You’re on thin ice, Grimes. Especially if you want this little stunt to repeat itself.”

The suggestion causes Carl to let up, rolling off you and allowing you some space. You sit once more, dusting some of the dirt off your white tank, pulling it back down to cover up your skin.

“So… you’d do it again?” He asks, watching as you stand, a hopeful expression on his face.

You move towards the building, where the bat is still stuck in splintered wood. It only takes one firm yank to pull it free, leaving a sizeable dent in somebody’s house.

So you’re not facing him when you answer, which is potentially a good thing, because you’re definitely blushing. “Maybe. Play your cards right.”

A sharp sound cuts through the commotion. That whistle you’ve grown to love, and Carl has grown to resent. To you, it means safety, someone to stand by. To him, it’s disaster.

Knowing you have to leave, that the Saviours are retreating, Carl backs off. He stands a few paces away from you, preparing for your sudden departure, mentally reminding himself of this unspoken divide between the pair of you.

Yet, you shoot him one more glance, an awkward little smile on your face. “Don’t get yourself killed.” You tell him, it likely being the most sincere string of words you’ve ever expressed to the boy.

He’ll take it.

He’ll take anything, at this point. The price of hatred was worth it, if this were the outcome.

So Carl let’s you leave, where you run back between the houses, deftly sneaking away to reunite with the Saviours before they can take their trucks and leave Alexandria. Sure, he probably should have backed up that hostage comment, but experiencing this again? That wasn’t something he could pass up.

Now was to make sure nobody found out.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #twd x you #carl grimes x you #the walking dead

[wolfwhiteflowers]

Caryl and comic Carl & Sophia theory

So there’s been a theory that Caryl are like comic Carl and Sophia for awhile. I tried to find a post that was the first time it made me think of it, but I can’t find it. I think it was back in s10A and someone was arguing that Caryl are not like comic R & M but more like comic Carl & Sophia (Carlphia). I had made some parallel posts about it in my blog. It would be interesting if the writers are now trying to adapt Carlphia and comic Lydia in the 10C and s11. 

I hope I can explain this well and accurate. :P

First, there’s similarities with Caryl and Carlphia. Both ships are like life-long friends and kinda have this subtle slowburn love relationship going on since the start. Oh, they both are actually the last two surviving Atlanta members of TWD. (Comic MIchonne-prison, tv Michonne left). There’s also a thing with one of the Peletier girls living till the end or dying early on. Also, for awhile, I see Leah and it keeps reminding me of another L name in the show, Lydia. So, maybe it’s meant to be connected to comic Lydia. (Name thingies lol. Idk yet what Leah is like in s10c and s11 though.)

*I’ll explain comic Carl and Sophia story, if I remember. And some parallels ..including with Leah if she’s like comic Lydia.

 Carlphia were a couple for awhile when they’re young kids (kinda would make someone to ship them from the start/kinda like a main ship), but mostly were good friends that grew up together. They grew apart I guess when Maggie moved to Hilltop after Glenn died. Eventually, it’s when Carl wanted to be independent and be a blacksmith apprentice(?) in Hilltop. It’s there when teens Carl and Sophia started to be friends again. And also when Whisperer War arc begins and that’s when teen Carl mostly falls in love with Lydia. His first real girlfriend/love I would say.  I don’t remember much and comic Sophia wasn’t really featured in the comics a lot. I think during and after the Whisperer war, Carl and Sophia were doing usual teen things, and helping out communities and family. Carl was more independent and mature (compared to Sabastian) so Sophia would listen to him on some things. Like love and stuff. Sophia would be jealous that Carl would know what to do in life, and have a gf Lydia. Sometimes its like she’s jealous that’s she’s alone, or jealous and misses her friend Carl who was always with Lydia. I think Robert Kirkman did have some hints of a love triangle going on but we didn’t really see it much. (It’s like a most recent love triangle in the story) And then uh I think it’s mostly that Carl and Lydia were shown to be good relationship and Lydia support Carl to being a good young man/leader. Carl and Sophia were good friends too. Then during the Commonwealth arc, an issue before, Carl’s dad died. And then the 20 years time jump on the last long issue (chapter or episode.), we see adult Carl who’s married with Sophia and they have a daughter named Andrea. We see how Carl interacts with Sophia and Lydia. There’s a page of Carl and Lydia that explains kinda why he chose to be with Sophia instead of Lydia. Basically it’s like a trope that Lydia is from the past and was when life was about survival and death. When he’s with Sophia it’s like he’s about living and for the future. So, somewhere in those 20 years, he grew to wanting to live life and making a better world then into the ZA. So, in a way it’s a subtle parallel.

So if Caryl and Leah are to be like comic Carlphia and Lydia, then I can see some parallels. It would be really interesting to see that on the show and sweet because Caryl would be endgame. But, I’m not sure how this theory would play out. The show now since s9 became so different from the comics and the comics ended what would be very different for the show. We don’t have the same main characters now as the comics did. The show is ending with s11..but is it really the end of TWD story when Rick movies will continue(if everyone will be there too)? We’re gonna be into the Commonwealth arc, post Whisperer War, Negan redemption & Maggie arc, and different plots. Also the show sometimes do comic arcs a bit out of order.

 So sdlfjlsajf????? It’s hard to speculate the show now with the comics now. I don’t know how TWD show would end really. To end with Judith...there’s that 20 years time jump to see people in ZA living life like normal in modern times in, in the New World. But, there are other plots not done. Like Rick’s story and Michonne looking for him, and Caryl in their spinoff show. It’s all hard to speculate. 

Anyway, Idk how this Carlphia and Lydia theory would work. I guess the writers could not adapt some things like the last two issues or really alternate it in the show.  Yeah it’s hard to speculate and also s11 is a long season probably like 4 arcs they will do. So that’s a lot of guessing.

Another thing that’s hard is that the writers would put for an example comic Rick plots onto tv Aaron and then later different plot for Daryl. The writers would change characters to adapt comic plots in a season. So, Daryl is using some comic Rick plots and comic Carl’s because it’s usually for the main storyline and Daryl is leading in the show. (Even Carol had some comic Rick plots but she mostly had comic Michonne’s in the past.) Anyway we have Aaron who has a missing arm and long beard like comic Rick, and he might be into political things. I think he might be killed in the end of the show like comic Rick.😢 Daryl might switch up again to be like comic Carl to whenever writers want to explore/remix a plot. 

* So there, Daryl can be like comic Carl in s11 sometimes. We know Leah will be in s11 but Idk where is she from now. If she’s from Commonwealth, I would think she could be the Governor of Commonwealth, Pamela. I can see Daryl acting as comic Rick to Pamela and they can probably fight about the way of living their life in ZA while also being like comic Carl and Lydia. They could argue and maybe try to start their relationship again because of their past. They used to be a couple. During of this I could see Carol realizing her feelings and feel jealous of them like comic Sophia. Idk what else Carol could do in s11. She could probably be like comic Michonne or Magna to be opinionated on the whole politics of Commonwealth and help Daryl. And to end the season, Idk, they could have Judith feel like she’s safe in Commonwealth, or ASZ is at peace with other communities and let Caryl go travel together. Or, Rick and/or Michonne reunite with their kids and warn about CRM community (Rick movie). Somewhere in s11B, Daryl realizes he doesn’t want to be with Leah. It’s always been Carol for him. And then Caryl became canon/endgame and left ASZ to travel. I think that’s what would be like comic Carlphia and Lydia theory.  @carylmeanslove here's a post with my speculations

#caryl #twd spoilers #twd speculations #twd tv comics

[fuckallthegood0nesweretaken]

Requests are open!

Hi guys! So I just wanted to let y’all know that requests are open. I have some in my inbox right now that I am still working on but you’re more than welcome to send some in. You can make your request as detailed as you like, but if it doesn’t say anything specific then I’m going to write what I have in my head. Requests will stay open for the foreseeable future

What I’m taking requests for and what I have in progress are under the cut.

I’m currently writing for:

The Mandalorian (No spoilers for anything past season 1 and 2 please!)

Cara Dune

Din Djarin

Paz Viszla

Boba Fett

Game of Thrones (I’ve seen all of it so don’t worry about spoilers)

Sandor Clegane

Jaime Lannister

Bronn

Oberyn Martell

Beric Dondarrion

The Walking Dead (I’ve seen the OG series and Dead City. No spoilers for Daryl Dixon please!)

Daryl Dixon

Negan

Merle Dixon

The Hobbit (I’ve seen all the movies and read the book so don’t worry about spoilers)

Fili

Kili

Thorin

Dwalin

Bofur

Bilbo

What I have planned:

SERIES 

A Walking Dead series rewrite where [y/n] is the middle Winchester child. Starts in season two of the Walking Dead and season one of Supernatural. 

The pairing is Daryl X Reader.

Warnings: Strong violence, strong language, sexual themes (smut, heavy petting), gore, supernatural elements, abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of abuse towards a child, mentions of rape 

A Hobbit rewrite. [Y/n] has no memories of Middle Earth or where she came from and was found by Gandalf on the outskirts of the Shire. He brings her along on the adventure and she partakes in the quest to take back Erebor.

Each movie will be 4-7 chapters long and the pairing is Fili X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of claustrophobia, memory loss, canon-typical violence, sexual themes (smut, heavy petting), use of Khuzdul and Elvish (translations will be provided at the end of the chapter) 

ONESHOTS 

A Jaime Lannister x Reader oneshot where Jaime and [y/n] are in an arranged marriage. They start out hating each other but end up falling in love.

Warnings: Language, mentions of childbirth, slight slowburn

A Merle Dixon x Reader oneshot where [y/n] is the youngest Dixon child. She is alone in the woods with her daughter, Emma, when some less than savory people approach them. Martinez saves them and brings them back to Woodbury where they’re reunited with Merle.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, strong language, mentions of abuse

#daryl dixon x reader #fili x reader #jaime lannister x reader #bronn x reader #merle dixon x reader #the walking dead x reader #game of thrones x reader #the hobbit x reader #twd x reader #got x reader #The Hobbit #The Walking Dead #game of thrones #twd #got

[trashcanband4]

Therapy Sessions Ch. 2

Chapter 1

Pairing: NeganxOc. Setting: The Sanctuary. Warnings: None other than Negan being OOC. Summary: Negan begins attempting to get to know the OC (Kelly.).

The next day she woke up to an empty bed and a note left on the dining table. As she picked it up she read aloud, “You are to stay here until I return. Make yourself at home but touch my stash of food and you will be sorry.” She scoffed and tossed the note back on the table.

“Right, so what am I supposed to do here all day?” As she looked around the room she spotted a few books, a small stereo and some CD’s on a shelf sitting to the right of the door, but none of them peaked her interest. Finally she popped a cd into the stereo and started working out.

She had just finished doing cool down stretches when Negan walked in. Lucille propped up on his shoulder. “Good morning.” Negan told her seeing that she wasn’t still in bed like he expected she’d be given the events of the previous night and how late they went to sleep. If he had the chance to sleep in he’d definitely take it, but he had a community to run.

“Mornin’.” She answered as she sat down on the foot of the bed, leaving the dining chairs at the table for Negan. He walked into the room and leaned the sparkling clean Lucille against the bookshelf by the door then sat down in the dining chair crossing his legs at the knees.

“So what’s in store for me today?” she asked bringing her socked feet up onto the bed to sit cross-legged.

“You and I have the rest of the day together and I intend on spending every second of it picking at your dead little soul.” He replied as he sat down in the armchair.

“Why?” she asked, emotionlessly, as usual.

“Because what’s dead doesn’t stay dead these days.” He replied with a cocky smile.

“You think you can bring me back to life?” she asked, her voice turning hard as she crossed her arms over her chest. She wanted to tell him that the walls she had built up, walls constructed from the fallen bodies of her loved ones, were impossible to tear down. However she kept her mouth shut, because telling him that would be letting him in and that wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m going to try.” He answered finding it ironic that while he was going to attempt to fix her, Daryl was being held in a tiny room in which Negan intended on breaking the man.

“Good luck with that.” She shrugged and dropped her arms from across her chest.

“Tell me about who you were before the world got flushed down the shitter.” He told her as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees.

“And if I don’t want to?” she asked flatly.

“Then I’ll ask you to tell me what you did for a living.” He countered.

“And if I say that I don’t want to answer that question either?” she asked already getting tired of him and his pointless questions.

“Then I’ll tell you that I am being very generous keeping you in here with me. I could easily put you in the room next to Daryl’s where you can listen to him screaming and crying as fucking Easy Street play’s on loop and you will be fed the same shitty as fuck dog food sandwiches as him.” He told her as his face turned cold and his eyes glaring.

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest again. “Fine, before the dead came back to eat the living, I was a wife and mother. I was chasing two kids around a three bedroom house, changing diapers and getting baby food thrown in my face. My husband worked two jobs to make ends meet. Things were hard, but I wouldn’t and couldn’t have asked for a better family.”

“Do you have children back at Alexandria?” he asked and she simply shook her head no. “What happened to them?”

“Near the beginning my youngest was taken from me by a virus that spread through our community like wildfire. We didn’t have the resources to handle it. The poor baby didn’t stand a chance. He’d always had a weak immune system. He was three.” She answered not looking at Negan, but at her hands in her lap as she picked at her cuticles. “My oldest, was taken from me by some ass holes that called themselves the wolves. I was helping stock the pantry and my husband was out on a supply run when they attacked. She was home alone. The wolves slit her throat.” She glanced up at Negan then back down to her hands. “She was nine.”

“So is that when you started shutting down?” he asked quietly.

“No, I felt every single bit of that shit.” She answered honestly.

“You mentioned a husband. He dead now?” Negan pressed.

“After we lost our son things between us became…strained. We only stayed together because of our daughter. So when we lost her-” she cut herself off not wanting to elaborate too much. “Let’s just say things got really, really ugly. He eventually left the community. I don’t know where he went and I don’t care to.” The whole time she answered his questions her voice stayed the same, flat, uncaring tone as usual.

“Damn… that all sucks.” he sighed and rubbed at his chin.

“The world sucks now.” She shrugged one shoulder.

“You’re not wrong about that.” He replied as he leaned back in the chair again and brought his booted foot up to rest on his knee.“Let’s lighten things up a bit.” He said and Kelly stopped picking at her cuticles. “Coffee or tea?”

“French Vanilla chai tea.” She answered quickly.

“I’m a black coffee guy myself. What TV shows were you into before?” he told her information about himself even though she didn’t ask.

“The Big Bang Theory, South Park and as embarrassing as it is to admit, The Bold and The Beautiful.” She answered.

“The Bold and The Beautiful was that shitty soap opera right?” he asked and she nodded. “I wasn’t much into tv myself. Did you have a celebrity crush?” He picked up a baseball that was on the floor next to the dining chair and started tossing it in the air and catching it.

“It was always a tie between Channing Tatum and Jensen Ackels.” She answered and for the first time Negan heard what he thought was a smile in her voice.

“Seriously, Jensen Ackles?” he asked as he stopped tossing the ball and cocked a brow at her.

“Hey, dude was hot as hell.” She argued with a small smile that was no where near reaching her eyes, but it was a start. “Just saying.”

“You know Lucille used to tell me that Jensen reminded her of me what I was younger.” He commented quirking Kelly’s interest for the first time.

“You’re bat talks to you?” she asked and he knew she meant it sarcastically but the tone wasn’t there.

“Lucille was my wife. My real wife… before all of this.” He explained and Kelly just made an “Ah” face. “Dog or Cat?” he asked going back to this or that questions.

“Dog, you?” she asked figuring that if he was going to get to know her and keep her in his room for the foreseeable future, she should start getting to know him too.

“Dog. Cats are too fuckin’ moody.” He replied. “Toast or eggs?”

“Eggs.” She answered then motioned for him to answer. He smirked a little, thinking it a good thing that she wanted him to answer his questions too.

“Toast.” Negan answered than asked, “Cardio or Weights?”

“Cardio. Stamina matters these days.” She answered.

“Weights.” He smirked again.

“Cake or pie?”

“Neither. I don’t do sweets.” She answered.

“What’s the matter with you? Sweets are what make life worth living.” He asked dramatically with a shake of his head.

“I’ve never had a sweet tooth. Even as I kid I didn’t eat a lot of candy.” She said with a shrug.

“So what did you do on your birthday, stick candles in a pot roast?” he asked and she cracked the smallest of smiles.

“I had a cake, I just didn’t eat it.” she answered as she dropped her feet to hang off of the side of the bed, not quite touching the floor. “What about you, cake or pie?”

“Classic apple pie with the sugared lattice on top.” He answered. “So you don’t eat sweets at all, none, ever?” he asked stuck on the sweets thing.

She sighed and tilted her head back, people always had this reaction when she told them that she never ate chewy or hard candies or cake or cookies. “I will eat mint chocolate chip ice cream every other blue moon, but that’s it.”

“Mint chocolate chip? Out of all the awesome ice cream flavors you chose the most disgusting one.”

Kelly just rolled her eyes at him. “Okay so out of all the awesome ice cream flavors what’s your favorite Mr. Judgmental?” she asked sarcastically.

“Butter pecan all the way baby.” He answered with a shit eating grin that showed off his dimples and perfect teeth.

“Now that’s disgusting.” She said with a point at him. “Bath or shower?” she flipped things around and asked him a question. He didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in the conversation.

“Shower.” He answered.

“Same, I never understood how someone could soak in a soup of their own filth.” She added and he smiled at her, thinking the same thing. “Hamburger or taco?”

“Hamburger.” He answered without missing a beat.

“Yeah you look like a hamburger guy.” She said giving him an appraising gaze.

“Let me guess, tacos?” he asked and she nodded. “Most important quality in a partner, Intelligence or sense of humor?”

“Why can’t I have both?” she asked and he shook his head at her. “Fine, sense of humor.”

“Intelligence.” He answered “Cups in the cupboard right side up or up side down?”

“Up side down. It’s more stable and causes fewer chips.” She answered. “Toilet paper on the dispenser facing up or down?”

“Down, what kind of psycho puts it on facing up?” he asked with a smile.

“My ex-husband. It drove me absolutely batty. That and leaving his socks right next to the laundry basket instead of in it.” She said getting more rapped up in the conversation than she had meant to.

“Well, as you can see I’m a pretty tidy guy so we should get along just fine.” His statement brought her back down to earth, remembering that she was once again going to be sharing a bed with this man. A man she hardly knew anything about. Noticing her sudden silence and her eyes that stared down at the floor he stood up from the chair and moved to sit next to her, a few inches of space between them. “What are you thinkin’ about, Dead Girl?” he asked as he bumped his shoulder against hers as if they had been friends for years.

“I…am… thinking about how I don’t think you’re going to be able to…fix, me. I know I’m fucked up. I watched you turn two men’s head into tomato soup and yet I still have no problem sharing a bed with you. A normal person, someone in their right mind, wouldn’t have willingly climbed into your truck, slept in your bed, or be sitting here with you like you couldn’t be the literal death of me.” She finally looked across her shoulder at his bright hazels looking at her as he listening closely. “If you can’t fix me will you at least make my death quick and painless?”

“I’m not going to kill you, darlin’. I refuse to except that you are un-repairable.” He replied.

She sighed and fell backwards onto the bed. “I hate this, you making me remember my past, trying to get into my head…”

“Well,” he started as he turned around and threw one of his legs over hers, straddling her, “there could be perks for both of us.”

She bit her lip as she placed her hands on his chest then slid them up to rest on each side of his neck, making him smirk cockily. “You can get into my head, or you can get into my pants. You can’t have both.” She patted him on the shoulder then slid down off of the bed, her nose brushing the crotch of his pants as she did. “Sorry Charlie.” She said as she stood up then turned to face him.

“Okay, then I’ll ask you some more questions.” He said as she moved around to sit in the middle of the bed.

“God, you’re borning.” She groaned then sat down in the dining chair to answer more pointless, boring questions.

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#neganxreader #neganxoc #Negan x oc #negan x reader #negan #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead negan #twd fanfiction #twd negan #Twd negan fanfiction #twd oc fanfiction #the walking dead negan fanfiction #Neganxoc slow burn #negan x oc slow burn #negan slowburn #neganxoc slowburn #neganxreader slowburn #twd negan slowburn #negan fan #negan fic #negan fanfiction

[victorskiller]

Me: I would once again like to write a slowburn of Rick x Negan at this very moment

The unfinished 5+1 Thing Negick fic on ao3: He don't see us?

My like 12 unfinished fics from various fandoms I had as hyperfixations: I see you! You see me?

#rick x negan #negan #rick grimes #twd #the walking dead

[justagirlinafandomworld]

Tropes Tag

Tagged by @indyluckycharlie , thanks sweetie!

slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia  // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi chapters // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romances or middle aged romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbours or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or genderbend // angst or crack  // apocalyptic or mundane

Tagging: @wickedsingularity @crispychrissy @donutloverxo @negans-lucille-tblr @ladyofmaidensandwine @gone-to-fight-the-fairies @fablesrose and anyone else who wants to play!

#tumblr games #tropes tag

[superprincesspea]

The Honey House, Chapter 21

Breakfast

MASTERLIST

Negan rolled over in the bed, his voice thick with sleep as he mumbled “wrap me up in those long legs baby doll.”

Rae pressed herself against the warmth of him, happy to oblige as he eased her leg around his waist and her cheek found a home on his shoulder. She liked being the big spoon, squeezing Negan tight and hiding under the covers as a new day crept into the room. It was the morning after the night before and it felt good, better than she’d expected.

She brushed her fingertips through the soft hair of his chest, letting her breathing fall in sync with the rise and fall of Negan’s body. It was like any lazy Sunday with a new boyfriend, the only thing missing was breakfast in bed and a broadsheet she could pretend to be interested in while the radio hummed in the background.

“You hungry baby?” he said, as if reading her mind but more likely hearing the gurgling of her stomach. Last night Negan’s body had seemed to satisfy her every craving, this morning she needed fuel for that fire that had burned for him.

“Starving,” her teeth grazed his shoulder like she might eat him up and he moaned happily at the attention before rolling over to face her.

He made sure to keep her legs wrapped around him as he claimed a space for himself on her pillow, his face kissing distance to hers. “I could go for some bacon and eggs, coffee and bagels. What about you Red?”

Rae’s stomach rumbled even harder, she didn’t realise how much she missed the salt and grease until right now, “don’t tease me… I can’t remember the last time I had bacon.”

Negan’s grin slipped across his face, “that's so? Well, if you behave yourself Miss Honey I might think about bringing you some next time.”

Her mouth watered, her enthusiasm peaked, “you have bacon and you’re only telling me this now?”

“I have whatever the fuck you want baby doll,” he murmured as his lips devoured hers, his hand cupping her ass to bring her closer to him.

“Whatever I want?” she asked, brushing her nose along his while his erection pushed against her thigh.

“Anything,” Negan’s breathing deepened, curling hot on her neck as his kisses trailed to her collarbone while his hand ventured with an insatiable appetite of its own.

Rae’s stomach grumbled in protest and she laughed, batting his advances away and pulling the quilt all the way up to her chin with a mischievous smile, “what about the food in the car?”

“That your game Red?” he tickled her side, “get a man all worked up then ask him to run out in the goddamn cold to fetch you breakfast?”

“You got yourself worked up,” she teased, nestling further into the quilt. If he went to the car then he was a keeper, if not, then he was still great in bed.

Negan’s eyes crinkled at the corners and he scratched his beard like a dog with fleas before planting a sloppy kiss on her forehead and rolling out from the bed. He stood by the door without a stitch of clothing on his body as he stretched his arms out as lazy as a big cat with a yawn to match. She rolled onto her side, tangling her legs in the sheet, enjoying the view as he bent over to pick up his boxers and slide them over his ass with the twang of elastic slapping against his waist. With a boyish laugh he grabbed the fluffy pink robe from the peg on the back of her door and slipped it on like the most natural thing in the world.

“Don’t think about moving a muscle from that bed,” he warned with a grin before ducking out of the door.

When she heard the door close, his footfalls down the hall stairs then the outside door slamming behind him she allowed herself to squeal, kicking her legs in the sheets like a crazy woman before jumping out of bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like this, like she wanted to call her best friend and recount every detail of last night over a cup of coffee or a cocktail. She had no idea what had happened to her friends from her old life and the ones she had now were more interested in what supplies she’d found how much ammo was left in the stores.

She threw open the bedroom curtains and sat on the window sill like she’d done a hundred times before. Only instead of watching the world go by she watched Negan hurrying towards the car with barefeet and her robe. It suited him, she liked him like this. She liked herself like this, even with Jacob it had never been this relaxed, this normal feeling. It had always been frantic, pushed against a tree, two people desperate to feel anything at all. This didn’t feel desperate or rushed, it felt like forever.

Rae waited at the window until he was returning, his arms loaded with options and his smile devilish when he spotted her watching him, her nipples hard buds in the cold, her body completely bare at the windowpane.

“I told you to wait in bed,” he threw the snacks onto the nightstand, “you disobeying me woman? You know how that makes my palm as itchy as fuck.”

Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened and a tingle of excitement crept across her skin, “you wouldn’t dare.”

But of course he would.

///

All morning Negan couldn’t keep his hands off Rae. He didn’t want a inch of her to go untouched. She made him feel twenty years younger and a newlywed to boot and he’d been newlywed more times than he cared to think about. But not like this. He wanted to eat her with a spoon until he burst then he wanted to put all the pieces back together and burst again but no matter what either of them wanted even honeymoons had to end. It was already long past noon on day two of what should have been a couple of hours worth of scavenging.

“Grandma will skin us alive if we don’t go back,” Rae insisted, attempting to slip from the bed. He pulled her back, plastering her back against his front in a bear hug until she sagged against him in surrender.

“Then let's not go back.” Negan laughed it off like a joke but part of him meant it when he said, “runaway with me Red.”

She nestled the back of her head against his chest, her voice light with opportunity, “where would we run?”

“Somewhere hot,” he kissed the point where her shoulder curved into her neck, “with a nice beach. How’s that sound?”

Rae tilted her head to look at him, her lips quirking into a smile, “I burn like a lobster in the sun.”

He chuckled, his hand splaying across her stomach and all that alabaster skin, “then let's go to Alaska.”

Negan practically felt her shiver as she escaped from his hands, covering her arms across her chest with a “brrr… too cold.”

He hated the cold too, he liked a temperature where nobody had to wear clothes unless absolutely fucking necessary. He smiled to himself watching Rae pull on her bra like a strip tease in reverse as he quietly played out the fantasy of them just leaving the world behind with nothing but a sports car, a box of food and each other. “What about a national park, somewhere not too hot and not too fucking cold, how does that suit your majesty? We can be forest people.”

She raised one eyebrow, her jeans smoothing over her legs as she laughed at him, “and what exactly do you know about surviving in the forest?”

Truth was he knew very little, but he knew he could make it with Red if they had to. She was feisty, strong and that's what he loved about her. Loved, as soon as the word crossed his head it sounded off like an overbearing klaxon. His chest was tight, his face froze in a look that was probably half shock and half terror but his body snapped into action reaching for his own clothes, thrusting his feet through his jeans like he needed the protection.

Rae snorted, “I’ll take your silence to mean you don’t know a single thing about living in a forest.”

He buttoned his shirt, “you’re right, it was a stupid idea.”

Her smile faded a little, her arm brushing past him and reaching for her glock before holstering it in her belt. He watched every second of it, his heart pounding, before her eyes locked with his, “it’s not stupid. I think about running away all the time. It’s my guilty secret…” she laughed quietly, “one of them.”

Negan didn’t say anything. He stood as still as a fucking statue but his blood was pounding, his palms sweaty.

This wasn’t love. It was great sex. Great sex with a great girl when he hadn’t had either in a long time. Jesus fucking christ, run away with her, what the holy hell was he thinking?

Of course he knew exactly what he was thinking as she ran her fingers through her hair pulling it into a ponytail. He’d be fucked if he could keep his eyes off her for one goddamned second and fucked if he kept on watching.

“Actually,” she said like nothing had changed in the past two minutes, “I’ve been thinking about setting up this town like I wanted to before. With Jacob gone, there’s no reason not to. There’s plenty of room-”

Negan’s laugh was as loud as it was nervous, “I know I’m fucking awesome in the sack but let's not jump straight to fucking living together. Jesus fucking christ Red, you don’t need to tie me down and brand my ass.”

“Don’t flatter yourself!” Rae bit back with her fiery temper, her cheeks pink, “I’m not the kinda girl to go all goo goo eyes because we had one night.”

Negan held up his hands. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt, at least his pride if nothing else. He laughed it off, “but it was some damn good sex.”

Her tempered simmered just a touch, enough to leave her with a smile at the ready but her eyes still sharp and so fucking green.

“What kind of girl are you Red?”

She rolled the idea around in her head. “I’m the kinda girl who liked sleeping in my own bed last night.”

She picked up the quilt, flipping it through the air where it spread out before settling over every corner of the mattress to erase any sign it had ever been slept in, or fucked all over. As she fluffed the pillows back into place she had a wry laugh, “you know, I share a bedroom with Grandma and Zuzu back home.”

“Jesus. Grandma and the kid?” Talk about a fucking cock block. Even if he wasn't sure about shacking up with Red, he was pretty damn sure he didn’t want to share a room with all three Honey’s. “You want this town baby just tell me whatever the fuck you need me to do and it's yours.”

She pressed her lips to his jaw, “you don’t need to do anything. This is my town, my people. And if you wanna move in then... I guess you’ll have to ask nicely.”

He cupped her cheek, what the hell had this woman done to him? Part of him knew it was time to walk away before he got any deeper, the other part refused to even remember he could walk. “I don’t ask nicely for any-fucking-thing.”

“When you want something bad enough you might have to learn to be nice.”

“I already got you, so I don’t have to be nice to any other fucker.” He kissed her, his tongue sinking into her mouth claiming his own defeat.

When they finally pulled into the match stick fort it was almost dark. Negan noticed Tim playing catch with Zuzu and using Negan's glove. That fucker. He fumbled the ball when he saw Rae, dropping it between his sneakers and never taking his eyes off her while he crouched down to pick it up.

If she had noticed the look Timmy was giving her then she did a good job of pretending she hadn’t. She called out for a couple of her people to help unload the car, leaving Negan to stand like a spare part with murder eyes directed to the fucker.

“You staying for supper?” Grandma Ellie’s voice almost made him jump but he kept his shit together, glancing her way with his smile at full grin before he caught the hard stare she was cutting him down with.

His grin faded, “was that an offer or a threat Grandma?”

Her hand rested in her hip, her shoulders squared with indignation, “you kept my child outside all night and I don’t appreciate that!”

Negan might have laughed if his throat wasn’t so damn dry, it reminded him of the time he was caught with his pants around his ankles in his girlfriend's bedroom when they were teenagers. “With all due respect sweetheart, your Granddaughter is a grown woman.”

“You remind me of my late husband,” she said in a way that let him know it wasn’t a good thing, “I hope you prove me wrong.” With no more explanation she turned on her heel, heading back inside with Zuzu chasing hot on her heels. Timmy was lurking behind to stand by the porch steps like a guard dog with the sniff of a crook.

Whatever Grandma thought he might have done he’d probably done far worse.

He spotted Rae heading right for him and he couldn’t ignore the fact that he had five wives back home. If Rae knew the truth… he couldn’t let it get that far.

“That should keep us going for an extra few days,” she smiled, slamming the hood of the trunk.

Negan grabbed Lucille from the footwell where she’d spent the entire night while he was with Rae, “I gotta go home baby.”

“But…” her eyes searched his, probably wondering why he was leaving like she’d done something wrong, “it's getting dark.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead, breathing her in before he let her go, “I know but I gotta get back.”

Rae sucked her bottom lip, her hand resting on her gun as her gaze drifted to his chest instead of his eyes.  Negan wondered what she would have said if he’d found the balls to tell her the truth, he wondered if it would have meant he could stay the night here and as many nights as he wanted to. Mostly he wondered how the hell she’d managed to bring him to this, to be a man standing with a woman and feeling something except completely fucking empty.

“Is it gonna be another month before I see you?” she said.

“I didn’t plan on that Red, shit happened. I’ll be back in a week. I promise. Just don’t

do anything stupid and remember my men are just over the field for whatever the fuck you need.”

“Okay,” her face was a little crestfallen and he reached for her hand, holding it in his before kissing the very tips of her fingers before letting them slide away.  He couldn’t ignore it any longer, he couldn’t keep putting things off, if he wanted Rae then he had to do something about his wives. Fucking hell, he had to do something about a lot of things but his wives would be first. Whether he liked it or not, whether he fucking wanted it or not, things had changed.

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