#still not sure if i should tag this as Not Safe For Dwight but still | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stxvercgersslut · 3 years

Text

Meeting Unexpectedly

Description: Trying to sneak you boyfriend into your bedroom was one thing, but expecting you father to be at all happy with it when he found out was a whole other thing.

Warnings: Language, make out, Angry Ransom

A/n: this is a third part of Promises but it is in no way a continuation in the plot of the first two parts. I have no idea how many parts this entire series will be as I’m kinda just taking it one at a time and if I have ideas then I put them down instantly. So who knows maybe this will be a forever on going series. And if you’re wondering yes, yes it is Jake Wyler that y/n is dating 😂 I really couldn’t resist 😂

“Y/n, babe, are you sure that this is safe?” Your boyfriend, Jake voiced as he paced back and forth across your bedroom floor. He’d already been there for almost 20 minuets yet he was still panicking over the tiniest of details. Who knew Jake Wyler could be such a baby when it came to your father, Ransom Drysdale?

The two of you had been dating for over two months now. The only reason you had really met Jake and had so much in common was because his mother just so happened to be your private tutor. Hired by none other than your father, Ransom Drysdale, who just so happened to be the one your boyfriend was terrified of.

If you’d have known that then maybe you would have never actually invited him over in the first place. No scratch that, you definitely still would have brought him since Jake pacing and panicking was 100% becoming your favourite and thing in the world. Causing it to almost land you in a fit of giggles on your bed. Of course you’d attempted to hold back your laughter but no matter how hard you tried it only came bubbling back to the surface much stronger then before. Due to that very issue, it had only been a matter of time before the giggled got the best of you and you were doubling over in fits of laughter.

Noticing this Jake whined, he fucking whined to show his disapproval with your actions. Could he not have growled? At least then he wouldn’t have fuled your enjoyment. “Y/nnnnnnnn” he whined, drawing out the last letter of your name to make it sound even whiner.

“Whattttttttt?” You responded, repeating his technique of drawing out that last words. Practically mimicking his comment.

“Your father is thee Ransom Drysdale!” He yelled, pretty much terrified of him.

“Yeah I know he’s my father after all...” you replied, clearly not in the mood since all you really brought Jake up here for was a quick make out session and some cuddles before he’d have to escape out the window so Ransom wouldn’t notice him.

“Stop laughing y/n! I really like you but I also really like my head attached to my body” He panicked, causing you to instantly stop your hysterics and look towards him with as much sincerity as physically possible, yet you just couldn’t stop yourself from laughing just a tiny bit more.

After a little while longer you finally managed to calm your short breaths from laughing, slowly standing up as you pulled him towards you before cupping his cheeks in your hands. That little pout on his face getting slightly wider as he looked into your eyes “I can’t help it baby! You look so adorable freaking out. It’s cute. But you seriously have nothing to worry about. My dad won’t find out. You just have to be gone on an hour so just relax okay?” You explained softly as you ran your fingers of your right hand through his hair whilst the other caressed his cheek gently.

Finally Jake calmed down, leaning into your touch as his own hands made their way to your waist somehow fully calm at this point as he leaned down and captured your lips. Kissing you with a lot more passion than before just enjoying the moment until he finally pulled away to speak. “Okay okay. I’ll stop worrying but I’m trusting you” he groaned before pulling you back into yet another kiss. It wasn’t long before the both of you were on your bed, Jake on top of you as the two of you were making out. Clearly this was all Jake needed in order to calm down and you were happy enough to fulfill that.

———————————————————————

“That Fucking Walt!” Ransom groaned to himself as he stretched his arms out infront of him, cracking his neck ever so slightly before finally pulling himself from his car.

Being at his family’s home for the last couple of hours had seemed to do much more harm to Ransoms mood then it had good. Then again he had always despised the rest of his family, never truly getting along with them due to the fact that they were all truly dicks. But today? Well today had been all kinds of stressful. For some unknown reason Linda had decided that today of all days was the perfect time to force Ransom and the rest of the Drysdales and Thrombys into one room so that they could ‘catch up’. Although it wasn’t exactly a catch up, it was more just argument after argument. However, this particular argument had been worse than the others.

Ransom had always been good at keeping you out of conversations, always making excuses as to why he was always busy at home when he didn’t have a job. However, today he hadn’t been so quick at hiding his phone as Jacob had noticed the incoming call appearing on his phone with the words ‘Y/n’s Tutor’ in a large font appearing alongside it. At first the former playboy had attempted to play it off as some kinky nickname for some girl he’d fucked,but that hadn’t seemed to work well due to the words on his phone.

He’d fucked up. So he came clean. Explaining very viciously and rudely that you were his daughter. Of course that hadn’t gone down to well, in fact the family had resulted into just insulting and threading each other as well as Ransom. Clearly pretending to be hurt by his decision to keep them in the dark about you. But he saw through that facade, they weren’t brilliant liars none of them were. What had pissed Ransom off the most though was Walts last words.

“you should bring your daughter here some time to meet us. Don’t we deserve the right to meet her?”

The fact that Walt had even suggested that in the first place had caused Ransoms blood to boil to the point where his fists clenched. He’d kept you out of their lives for a reason and now they wanted to be in your life? Hell no, he wouldn’t ever allow that. Yet everyone seemed to agree it was only ‘fair’ that he did that. But why should he bring you into this part of his life? You didn’t deserve that yet he was forced to take you there next Saturday....he may have hated his family but god did that have a brilliantly twisted way of manipulating people into doing exactly what they wanted. Not that Ransom was manipulated, he just couldn’t force himself to listen to his parents yelling at him and calling him a failure anymore. So he went along with it. Oh he was aware you’d hate it but what other choice did he have? Exactly he didn’t.

With one more grumble the former playboy pulled himself away from his beloved Beemer, running his hand across his newly shaven face before finally walking over to the front door and letting himself in. He was an hour early but it wasn’t exactly like he cared, especially since he knew you would probably just be up in your room watching tv or studying. Or at least he thought that’s what you were doing.

Little did he know that you were actually practically making with your boyfriend of 2 months. Yeah you shouldn’t have continued kissing him but you were happy with him clearly.

“Y/n!” Your father called from the front door, taking a quick scan from where he was standing to see if he could see you. Which of course he hadn’t, so like any other parent he just assumed that you were upstairs catching up with homework.

However, the ever so slight sound of the words ‘Jake window now!’ seemed to concern Ransom. Surely he’d heard it wrong right? He didn’t want to believe it. Did you have someone over without his permission?

Assuming he’d heard wrong, the male shook his head. Wandering into the kitchen to get get himself a light snack before dinner. But, as soon as he heard that same words repeated again he was up the stairs in a flash.

What he saw when he swung your bedroom door open had his blood boiling even more than it had been before. You, his (up until now) innocent 16 year old daughter, making out with your tutors son. This had to be a dream right?

“Y/n what the fuck were you thinking?!” He growled, not exactly giving a shit about the fact that he was most likely spooking you. Of course you hadn’t exactly expected him to react the way that he had but you couldn’t blame him.

“Dad I c—“ you began before being cut off.

“No! We’ll talk about this later!” He explained before turning back to Jake “now you get the fuck out!”

“Dad no! He’s not leaving!” You spoke angrily as you looked towards Jake, practically begging him not to leave.

Oh he was mad now, that much was clear from his face. “You don’t get a say in this!” He growled once again before turning back towards Jake “you get the fuck out of my house now before I drag you out!” And with that Jake had zoomed out of the room, racing down the stairs and practically throwing himself out of the door. Yeah he wasn’t coming back.

“D—“ you began but before you could Ransom interjected.

“I’ll talk to you later! Now do some studying or something and don’t come downstairs for a couple hours. I don’t wanna see you right now!” He once again growled raising his voice before turning on his heel and leaving.

Yeah you were in for it.

Tag list: @chuckbass-love @star-spangled-steve @stargazingfangirl18 @navybrat817 @jtargaryen18 @et-lesailes @dwights-new-plague @harrysthiccthighss

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ziracona · 4 years

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Dwight/Jake wedding headcanons maybe? They deserve it.

For sure!

It’s a couple years down the road. They’ve been living in the Indiana house with Adam, while the others orbit in and out from Springwood and Lockport and Haddonfield and Indianapolis and Bloomington and New Jersey and Missouri and New York and such every few days. It’s peaceful and fun there for them. Woods, big house, familiar smells and people and memorobelia and Ron’s grave and markers added nearby for Vigo and Alex and Lisa and Sujan and the person from the lab with no name and the survivors who came before them and never got to be buried. It’s home. They’re just chilling, Dwight and Jake talking with intent but also very relaxed about something while Adam edits a sequel in his easy chair, deep in edit mode, when Jake calls over, “Hey Adam, do you want to be a best man, or do you want to marry us?”

Which Adam hears the wrong homophone for for a second and almost takes him out before he realizes they meant the other version of ‘marry’ and remembers how to breathe again.

He stutters out a, “Well, I, uh—I mean, I can do whichever you’d prefer, but I’m not ordained. In. Anything. I know I did Min and Nea’s, but—”

“—Yeah, we know, but we just need it to be legal,” Jake shrugs, “and we don’t want a stranger at the wedding period, so someone’s getting ordained.”

“I think you can get ordained online in like an hour,” adds Dwight helpfully, “and we’re not religious either, but—and now that I’m saying this it was Meg so that means I should make sure becuase sometimes her memory for numbers is uhhh bad, but she told me like a week ago you only need ten people to officially get your new religion recognized. And we could be ‘the survivors’ or something. I don’t know I believe in much, but I believe in that.”

Jake nods. “Whatever is true, this group of people can rip a hole in the fabric of the universe for each other. I’d ascribe to that.”

“I kind of like that,” says Adam, “I would too. But if we have a spiritual ‘leader’, wouldn’t Ace be a better choice than me? Or Jane?”

This is considered a good point and they debate between Adam, Jeff, Tapp, Jane, and Ace for a bit, [Philip is also briefly considered, but they realize just as fast he’d be overwhelmed and stressed by having to do it & mercifully swap him to another role], then decide on Ace, who’s always been the kind of...not exactly dad, not exactly uncle, but not not those things, and certainly some kind of an early spiritual or morale core for them, parentish figure, and a comfort and hope leader for them all. Also, they know he’ll get a fkn kick out of being ordained for this.

Dwight takes Quentin as his Best Man, Claudette his Maid of Honor, and Jake takes Nea as Matron of Honor, Andrew as Best Man, and Meg as Maid of Honor. They decide fuck it, and it’s kinda Parks & Rec (an argument used by and against Jake many times the next few weeks) anyway, and also both take Adam and Philip as Best Men because fuck it, it’s too hard and also wedding rules are arbitrary and made to be broken, and so then Jake adds Kate as a bridesmaid, Dwight adds Laurie, they realize the number of survivors is dwindling dangerously and decide fuck it, our wedding is for us might as well be fkn weird and cool, and add David, Min, Tapp, Jane, Jeff, and Laurie as groomsmen and bridesmaids too. This still leaves Michael, Anna, Sally, Benedict, Susie, Jeff’s three Legion kids, and everyone’s families which is like fkn a lot of people, to be audience party (sans Nancy, who is pleaded with to be wedding party and run the music pre-reception because the number of people that they want involved /and/ who won’t give in to or be tricked by Meg into some kind of terrible flash mob stunt is very small, and in fact, basically is just Nancy. She is happy to do it and thinks their desperate reasoning is hilarious).

They break the news to Meg and Claudette and Ace first (after Adam), ask Ace to marry them, and tell Meg she can run post-weddding/reception music however she wants, except the songs for a couples dance & parent dances. She is /thrilled/. Claudette is very happy and cries. They call up Quentin & Nea to add to the conversation and Jake says Nea and Meg and Susie are in charge of setting up the wedding because he knows they’re gonna fight him for the role anyway, but they have to throw whatever they can together with only the stuff they own already and $50, they want only family & the other survivors/their families at the wedding, the service short and sweet, and to have it at the cabin, by the river. Meg loses her mind with indignance and joy together, and goes buckwild. They hit thrift shops for fairy lights and streamers and more.

Everyone is thrilled to be asked, Jane says “about time,” and Philip can’t think of anything to say and gets overwhelmed emotionally and taken off guard to be asked to be a groomsman. It’s sweet. Everyone with fashion sense takes everyone else shopping or through their wardrobes for fun wedding clothes and to at least have accent pieces that match a color theme. (Complimentary blues, yellow/gold, and pinks to the grooms’. More on that). It’s super fun & they make a fashion show of it. There’s no matching in form, just color, which is just the best version anyway there’s really no goddamn reason to spend thousands of bucks on a wedding when you could just have a funky cute good time with the people who love you & no stress.

Jake picks a deep blue hanbok (bc the hottest Jake I’ve ever seen is the one @eggchef did for lunar new year & the note in the tags about an actual hanbok has been banging around in my head ever since), and when they’re going through stuff for Dwight, he comments a pink one is surprisingly nice because it’s not the color he’d expected to think about, and Jake remarks offhand that if they do deep blue and pink they’ll be stealing their girls’ looks, and the second he says that, they both know there’s no other choice now. Dwight gets a light pink suit and a tie that matches Jake’s blue. They’re adorable and both look exceedingly handsome.

The wedding is short and perfect. Ace does a great job, it’s a nice day, and Meg works wonders with her $50 budget and (notably obscenely large) preexisting store of party supplies, + help from her mom who is passing down the legacy of being the best tiny budget party planner on earth. It’s very open, but with near arches and dangling glass and prisims that cast rainbows everywhere, lots of meaningfully chosen for their blessings and symbolism flowers and flower chains from Claudette. It’s a little reminiscent of the birthday decorations Min and Nea did plus the prisims, and that accidentally makes all the survivors super emotional like 1 minute in.

Only the moms get to speak in the wedding (besides Ace and the grooms), and Andrew and Meg and Nea and Quentin and such all gotta save their roasts for the reception. It’s sweet. Ace knows them super well and it shows in the best way. The grooms write their own vows, and both echo their statements in the hatch tunnel without knowing the other was going to do so too. Jake starts with an “I am deeply, unendingly, ridiculously in love with you,” and Dwight brings in a, “I wouldn’t be who I am without you.” They end it with Dwight saying, “Will you still stay with me, now that it’s all over? Through whatever we’re thrown to next?” And Jake replying, “Wherever you go, I’ll always follow.”

I cry.

The reception is a party by the house. It’s just a huge prepared buffet made by the family who can cook, so no one has to sit and wait. Meg starts the music with Cascada’s Evacuate the Dance Floor because she doesn’t “want to see people dragging their feet like a bunch of fuckin weenies, I want asses on that dance floor!” There’s a lot of 90s and early 2000s pop, but also many many classic dance songs. Lots of ABBA. Lots of it. Everyone has great fun. Min, Nea, Susie, and Meg made the playlist, except for a few of the specific dances. Muriel Fairfield’s mother-son dance with Dwight is to Song For Ten by Neil Hannon because he knows she’s a sweet big emotional nerd and it’s the song she wants, and he’s willing to do it, and she sobs and is a mess but also the happiest she’s been since the day she got the call he was alive.

They have literally zero idea where they’re going when they drive off for a honeymoon. They’re like “Uhh so I’ve been looking at our complete and utter lack of wedding structure and planning as a good thing? But we might have overstepped that a little here....”

Dwight drives while Jake searches the web for LGBT safe honeymoon locations because there’s nothing that would ruin a trip more than that not working out, and reads off a list and Dwight is like, “Wait wait holy fuck, I though you meant what US cities or maybe Canada. Switzerland? Do we even have cash for the plane fare somewhere like that?” And Jake just looks at the page silently for a few seconds, shuts the laptop, and without expression says, “...I really hate this, but I’m gonna let myself be a rich boy, just once.”

They take Andrew’s jet to New Zealand (Jake calls him and listens for 2 minutes then just monotone goes “Okay but you owe me for being a dipshit for fifteen years,” and they get the ride). Jake picks a relaxed pace and some scuba diving, some hikes, but no overnight camping. Lots of just seeing the world and holding hands and grinning at how absolutely breathless and shocked Dwight is at every chunk of nature like nothing he’s seen before. They are disgustingly, blissfully happy.

#ask #anonymous #dead by daylight #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #ILM spoilers #long post #parkfield #dwake #Jake park #Dwight Fairfield

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plus-size-reader · 5 years

Text

Freedom

Dwight x Plus size!reader

Word Count:1870 words

Warnings:none

Summary: Reader is Negan’s daughter. He keeps her under lock and key, but when she finds a little bit of freedom, how much is she going to take? and what is she willing to do to get it?

———————————————————————————————————

Your dad had always been beyond protective of you, and it wasn't 100% his fault. After you lost your mother, and then the dead started walking among the living, all he cared about was keeping you alive.

He couldn't lose you too, he knew that so you were hardly allowed out of his sight…

Until he built the sanctuary.

As soon as the walls were fortified, you were finally allowed to roam about without an armed guard on your tail, and you loved it.

For about three days...

Once you'd explored all there was to explore in the sanctuary, you weren't having it anymore. You weren't allowed to leave the sanctuary grounds and you felt trapped behind the concrete walls.

You were a prisoner in your own castle, if for nothing more than your own protection.

It did no good to tell your dad that you could protect yourself if he taught you to shoot a gun but that didn't do much for you. He couldn't cope with the idea of you being anywhere near the danger so you lived your life under constant house arrest.

Something that you had pretty much accepted until the discovery of Alexandria.

The saviors had taken over quite a few communities in the past but something about this one was different. The leader, Rick, wasn’t going down without a fight, and everything that happened behind those walls was beyond entertaining.

Everyone knew it, but only you were in a position to tag along, after a ton of begging.

“Please Daddy, I just want to see it” you whined, not caring how pathetic you sounded. Raid days to Alexandria were the most entertaining thing to happen in forever, and you weren’t going to miss it.

Not if you could help it.

However, Negan wasn’t showing any sign of bending on his hard no. He didn’t want anything happening to you, even if he was there.

“We aren’t talking about this anymore, go to your room” he suggested, using that ton he used on the rest of the saviors. He rarely used it on you, but when he did, you knew better than to argue.

Though you definitely thought about it.

“Ugh, fine” you groaned, louder than necessary before stomping out, the door slamming behind your back.

Your pouting wasn’t something new for Negan, but it did get him thinking.

You rarely got to leave the compound, because it wasn’t safe...though, Negan currently had possession of all the guns in Alexandria. Not to mention that a ton of saviors were going with him.

You wouldn’t be exposed to anything other than those idiot Alexandrians, and they couldn’t do anything to hurt you.

Maybe it would be okay for you to tag along, as long as you agreed to behave.

You could hardly breathe when your dad told you that you were actually allowed to go with the saviors to Alexandria.

When he’d kicked you out of his office earlier, you thought that was it, but it would appear not. At some point, he’d come to his senses and as long as Dwight kept an eye on you, you were allowed to explore.

You didn’t like having to have a babysitter but you were so glad to be let out of the cage that you didn’t argue.

It felt like you’d been waiting forever to get out.

“I can’t believe you get to come out here everyday Dwight” you yelled, screaming over the sound of the air zooming past your ears.

You had asked to ride on the motorcycle with him, instead of in the truck with Simon, and Negan agreed. If Simon was his right hand, then Dwight was his left, and he trusted the man to get you there safely.

“It’s not as glamorous as you think kid” he called back, ignoring the way your arms wrapped tightly around his middle, keeping you anchored on the back of the bike.

You had never been on a motorcycle in your life, and it was quite the experience.

“Don’t call me that D. I’m twenty-two” you groaned, it was bad enough that your dad treated you like a child, now he was doing it too.

In truth, if there was anyone in the world you wanted to take you seriously, it was Dwight...who you’d been harboring quite a crush on since you met him.

He was a tortured dreamboat, with a strong personality and skill. It didn’t hurt that he was also handsome, to add to the mix.

In fact, you couldn’t believe that he hadn’t picked up on it by now. It wasn’t exactly a secret that you liked him, when the two of you were together.

“Sorry princess, my bad” he laughed, chucking when you batted his shoulder with your hand, before it latched back onto his waist where it had been before.

You could be so feisty, something that Dwight loved.

Of course it wasn’t lost on him that you enjoyed his company, likely in the same way that he enjoyed yours. The only difference was that he knew better than to act on the feelings.

If Negan ever found out about him messing around with his best girl, he’d be left with much worse than a burn.

He wasn’t an idiot, and no matter how much he liked being around you, nothing was worth dealing with Negan when he was angry.

“You should let me drive” you suggested, your voice close to his ear as you leaned forward, your hands resting lightly over his own on the handlebars. You loved the feeling of his calloused hands on your own, still soft due to lack of work and a pretty intense moisturizing regimen.

You felt the man take a deep breath as he tried to ignore your advances but it did nothing but spur you on.

For you, this was like a game. You had nothing to lose if your dad found out about the flirting and touching, not like Dwight did. Not to mention the fact that you knew he would hate it if he found out.

You had a rebellious streak in you and being with Dwight was perfect for that...all you had to do was convince him that being with you as worth it in turn.

Which was proving to be quite the challenge.

“I don’t think you’d like it” he called back, keeping his eyes on the road and doing his best to ignore the butterflies in his gut at your close proximity to him.

If he turned his head, he would likely come face to face with you as you now had your head resting on his back.

He could feel your chest rise and fall with your every breathe, and it was becoming too much for him. You would likely be the death of him if you kept it up.

“I think I would...if you were there with me” you countered, giggling in his ear in a way that nearly made him crash the bike.

Next time, you were riding with Simon, for sure.

The ride to Alexandria didn’t take too long at all, though for Dwight it felt like years, and before you knew it, you found yourself staring up at the tall gate the enclosed the entire compound.

It was much more open than the sanctuary, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous about it. All these people got to live in nice houses, while all you had was concrete walls.

It wasn’t fair at all.

“I’m gonna go walk around the grounds Daddy, I love you” you purred, pressing a kiss to his cheek at the entrance. You knew that he had work to attend to and you’d already been through the rules.

You could go anywhere you wanted...as long as Dwight went with you.

“Come on D” you grinned, reaching a hand out to him, which he ignored...a good move, seeing as he was standing a few feet from your father, and Lucille.

Instead, he kept his hands behind his back as he walked behind you, trailing you like a dog on a leash. He wanted to make it abundantly clear that he was only doing this out of necessity.

Dwight had been given an order…

It didn’t matter if he would have done it regardless, or if he enjoyed all the time he got to spend with you. This was about his duty as one of your father’s most trusted soldiers.

This wasn’t about what he wanted.

Your strides were smooth as you walked along the asphalt, your hips swinging easily as you made your way over to one of the houses farthest from the gate.

It was clear that you were planning something, but Dwight knew better than to question it.

“This is pretty fun, isn’t it?” you hummed, reaching out to take his hand in your own, forcing the man closer to you, though he wasn’t exactly upset about it.

The fact that there was no longer any threat of your father’s anger made it easier for Dwight to relax a bit. After all, he had always really enjoyed your company, but this was bigger than the two of you.

Still, even knowing that, Dwight couldn’t help himself. “Of course” he replied, following you up the porch steps

You had no idea whose house this was and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

More than anything, you were looking for something new, something you didn’t have at the sanctuary that you could enjoy for the short time that you were here.

So far, everything was different.

In truth, you were in awe of this place. The people here were, more or less, free to do as they pleased and you envied that. You desperately wanted what they had…

“We should stay here” you hummed, sitting down on the porch swing, staring at the people crowding the street. Even dealing with the saviors, they remained together, as a family.

You had never felt that way when you were at the sanctuary.

Dwight laughed, looking out at the scene before you. You must have seen something different than he did.

When he looked out at the crowds of people, he felt nothing for them. If anything, he saw them as an inconvenience.

You had this dreamy look on your face that confused him. Did you really want to live like them?

After being provided for, and having everything you had ever wanted at the sanctuary, the only thing you actually longed for was a life like this? A life that Dwight could never give you?

“Why do you like it here so much?” He wondered, honestly not understanding what it was about the whole thing that appealed to you. Never in his life had he pegged you as the white picket fence type.

However, you didn’t even have to answer him for the pieces to come together. You had been trapped under Negan’s constant supervision since all hell broke loose, and you wanted nothing more than your freedom.

You wanted your own life.

It was in that moment, staring at you as you surveyed the surrounding area, that Dwight decided…

“We’re going to run away”

#dwight #twd dwight #dwight x ps reader #dwight x reader #dwight x plus size reader #twd dwight x ps reader #twd dwight x plus size reader #twd dwight x reader #twd #twd x ps reader #twd x reader #twd x plus size reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x plus size reader #the walking dead x ps reader

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harry-leroy · 4 years

Note

For the sentence starters: Georgibeth + “I’ve been alone for so long I’m afraid I don’t know what it’s like not to be” or Warlenys + "I need you to trust me" please? :D

Oh my goodness, thank you so much for waiting. It has been wayyy too long since you sent this in, but I am finally (nearly) done with school, so I have time to actually catch up on fic prompts now. I ended up going to the Warlenys prompt, but I definitely want to write that Georgibeth prompt eventually. I hope you enjoy! Tagging my Warleggan family: @ticketybooser and @forcebros - love you guys <3

The scene which Dwight found as he entered Trenwith was a troubling one, though not for the typical reasons that he had come to expect upon his many visits with George over the past few months. Dwight had just entered the house, but George looked ready to leave it.

“Sir George,” Dwight stuttered as he spoke, still surprised at George’s well-fashioned appearance. “I was not expecting you to be…”

“What?” George spoke with his old terseness, straightening his cravat in the mirror. “Can a man not go on an outing with his family?”

Before Dwight managed to respond, Cary entered the room, appearing as though he were just finished with one errand before moving onto the next. The good doctor felt somewhat saved by Cary’s appearance. It was he after all who had called Dwight.

“Ah, doctor,” Cary began, sounding cordial for George before pulling Dwight aside and speaking in a lower tone, “I do not trust my nephew to go out like this. He seems unusually out of temper this morning. I thought it would be best to um…”

Dwight nodded, understanding his meaning. George did look nearly like his old self, as if none of the previous damage had even occurred, but there was the odd angle in the mirror that revealed dark circles under his eyes and the way his fingers trembled as he adjusted his clothes. By now, George was in good enough sense to understand the conversations his uncle had with Ralph Hanson through the door, but not enough to throw himself back into the endless workload he was wont to put on himself. He was impatient, itching to have his say in his own family business. It was only natural, after all.

“I will have a word with him,” Dwight said to Cary, who nodded in understanding, his shoulders relaxing somewhat upon hearing that he had made the right decision to call a doctor. Cary decided to take a step back to allow the doctor to do his work, but stayed in the room in case George tried to do anything rash. It wouldn’t have been the first time that such a thing happened.

“George,” Dwight began gently. “I am encouraged to see you motivated to make an outing. It is a great improvement from where we started, no doubt,”

“And?” George did not turn away from the mirror, but instead stared Dwight’s reflection down with those piercing eyes of his.

“Well,” the doctor began, not sure how to phrase his concern. “I believe this improvement is so great that it has caused your uncle a bit of concern. An outing to the church or perhaps even to Sawle village may be one matter, but anywhere else may be too much. You are still in recovery from considerable trauma, and as your doctor, I share your uncle’s concern,”

“Damn it, man!” George stamped his foot and swiftly turned on his heel. “I am treated like a child in my own house and now I must suffer the same fate outside of it. I can hardly hold a butter knife without unusual vigilance on my every move. Will I never be trusted again? Or must I be kept in the house… like a… spinster! Or a madman…”

It discouraged Dwight considerably to have George call himself a madman, and it was probably rather constricting to have Cary keep a hawk’s eye on him ever since he nearly fell off of the Nampara cliffs. He sighed.

“I understand your frustration, but you are not a madman. The mind may betray us in mysterious ways and your uncle only wants to keep you safe. I have no opposition to a small outing, but I should ask that I come with you,” Dwight said calmly.

George looked very nearly about to cry.

“Do you have any idea what this is like?” He asked, nearly losing his voice by the end of his question, pointing to his own head upon the word ‘this’. “I hardly feel like myself anymore and you’re not helping,”

“How might I be of help?” Dwight asked. He had expected some frustration from George given the nature of his illness, but by now even Dwight had to admit that he might have been a little frustrated too if in George’s position. He thought of Caroline in that moment, though wished he hadn’t.

“I need you to trust me,” George said. “I think I have enough sense now to tell when I am feeling alright and when I am not. I am feeling fine and would like to take a walk with my family. Is that too much to ask?”

“No, it is not,” Dwight said cautiously. “But I also need you to trust me. I have treated many such cases like yours and can tell you with confidence that it is unwise to go as far as you wish to go given the nature of your illness. So we shall make a compromise. I propose that we take a walk to Sawle village. Bring Valentine and Ursula along if you like,”

George relaxed a little. So did Cary, who had been watching this entire time.

“But, George,” the doctor reminded himself. “Now that you are on the mend, and I do truly believe you are on the mend, I must tell you that this will continue to be a battle you face for the rest of your life, and you must know when to take breaks. You cannot continue to push yourself to the brink of exhaustion. I understand your impatience to return to the world, but you must give yourself more time,”

His patient nodded. He knew it all too well. Some days he felt just as he had before, but in seconds it could all come back to him and he would fall into a frantic state for days on end. He still had a hard time controlling it, which is why he had Dwight to help him. Perhaps it would always be like that. It frustrated him, but for the moment, he let it go.

“Well,” Dwight said. “Shall we go? We’re fast losing light. I believe we shall be caught in the rain all the way out there,”

George nodded. “There are worse things than a little rain,”

#thank you so much!#this was fun to write #brotp: i was there #otp: i was there #s5 au #poldark #poldark fic #george warleggan #dwight enys #warlenys #poldark au #my fics #upstartpoodle

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mychemicalimagines · 5 years

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Happens Like That-Jim Halpert-Chapter 2

Summary: Jim Halpert and Melissa Ford have been best friends since he started at Dunder Mifflin in 1999. Now that a camera crew is following the employees around so they can film a documentary, do they finally tell each other their feelings? Or do they just let them go? Either way, what will become of these two best friends?

Warnings: Cussing and Smut in later chapters.

Words: 4890

Tag List: @you-a-southpaw-doll @elskinner45 @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

A/N: I love that you guys are liking this. Please leave comments on what you think. If you guys don’t want me to finish this, I won’t continue. If you would like to be tagged please message or submit an ask.

Melissa’s POV - Same Day, Just Later in the Evening

By the time I get home, half an hour has already passed since I clocked out and left work. I’m still going to Jim’s house but I wanted to change into something more comfortable. I walk upstairs to my room and change into a tank top and a pair of jeans before I look in the mirror. I brush my hair quickly before putting on a pair of sneakers.

I smile when I see how good I look, and feel proud of myself. I make sure everything is in place and that I look comfortable and ready to hang out, but also making sure I don’t look like I tried too hard. This isn’t the first time I’m going to Jim’s house. About a year after he started at DM, we started hanging out almost every day of the week.

We have our routine, doing things we both enjoy. And, most of the time, as long as we’re hanging out, we’re doing something we enjoy. He’s just about the only person I hang out with. Mondays, we sit together and watch basketball, nine times outta ten, it’s at his place since he has the DVR and the bigger TV.

I’m not a huge basketball fan, but I watch the Philly 76ers with him so we have a chance to hang out. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve come to understand certain things about the sport and appreciate it ‘cause it means I get to spend time with Jim. Since I’ve started getting more into basketball, Jim has offered and has been teaching me how to play for going on three and a half months now.

It’s been fun, and I might’ve not been the best at the beginning, but I’m getting better! Tuesdays...well, those are our taco nights. We get together at my house and make tacos, usually watching a movie afterwards. Sometimes, we try new types of tacos, or we stick to the good old fashioned ones, like beef tacos, which just so happen to be my favorite, with some guacamole on the side.

One time, Jim suggested that we try shrimp tacos...let’s just say that didn’t turn out too well and we ended up going to taco bell that night. It was a learning experience, to say the least. Fridays are our movie and dinner nights, with us switching houses every other week. One week it’ll be my place and I pick the movie while he picks what we’re having for dinner.

The next week, it’ll be at his place and he picks the movie, leaving dinner up to me. This week just so happens to be a little different. I couldn’t make up my mind on what I wanted for dinner, so we agreed I’d pick the movie and he’d get dinner, but we’d still have it at his place. After our movie ends and dinner has been cleaned up, we usually spend the night at the other’s house, just sleeping, nothing more...yet... hopefully one day.

If I stay at his place, he offers me his bed while he sleeps on the couch. I felt bad the first few times, but he assured me it’s ok. At my place, he insisted I keep my bed and he sleeps on the couch. We do this every Friday night because on Saturdays we go to the local bar and have a few drinks. And it’s better to go to one destination and be safe than go to two and possibly get hurt in one way or another.

So, I guess technically, we spend two nights a week together, but we don’t ever cross that line. Yet. The other days of the week are random. Usually, it just depends on how tired or busy we are after work. Sometimes, we’ll hang out, and other times, we’ll just part ways at our cars and go home or run errands or whatever it is we need to do.

To be honest, if I’m not with him, I usually just stop by McDonald’s or something, grab a bite to eat and go home to take a nap. I have no idea what he does when we’re not hanging out, but it’s ok. I stop at BlockBuster and grab the last copy of the movie he talked about wanting to see today. As I drive toward his house, I see a flower stand on the side of the road.

I smirk to myself and pull over. Last week, Jim came over for Taco Tuesday and brought me some flowers. It was a really sweet gesture and made me smile. Now it’s my turn to return the favor. I turn off my car and step out, making sure I grab my keys and wallet. Walking right up to the stand, I take a look at the different types of arrangements, colors, and floral designs.

After a few minutes, I pick up a little thing of cute flowers and walk over to the sweet looking, little old woman running the stand.

“Oh what’s the occasion?” She asks as she rings up my flowers.

“Just getting a friend some flowers.”

I smile, and hand her a slightly faded, and worn, ten dollar bill that’s more than enough to cover the cost. She nods, takes the money and hands me my change. I put it in my wallet before grabbing the flowers. Getting inside my car, I make sure the flowers are safe in my passenger’s seat, not before starting my car.

I drive for ten more minutes to get to Jim’s house, before I carefully pull into his driveway since there’s a big dip at the end of it. The city says it’s to help with water runoff when it rains so it lessens the chance for the roads to flood. His car is usually parked on the left and my car will be parked on the right, just like it is today.

He joked the other day that this was my parking spot and no one is allowed to park here. And I mean, no one. It doesn’t matter who they are. If they’re not me, then they can’t park here. Jim’s rules, not mine. Last year, Jim had a small BBQ and invited everyone from work. Michael showed up a little earlier than I did and Jim made him move his car before I got there.

No one understood why it was such a big deal. The big deal was 1) it was my spot, and 2) because I was more than likely sleeping over that night. I did sleep over, but I made sure to help him clean everything up since I helped him cook the night before. That was what kind of, officially, started us staying at each other’s house on a somewhat regular basis.

I turn off my car and grab the flowers from the seat next to me. I step out and grab my ‘Sleepover at Jim’s’ duffle bag that I keep in my back seat. I hold the flowers behind my back and walk toward his front door. I have no idea why I am so nervous.

I’ve been here a million times in the last 5 years! I put my duffle bag down and knock on the door. A few seconds later, Jim answers.

“Mel!” He smiles, seeming to be almost shocked it’s me and not someone else.

“Who else?” I giggle and all the nervousness washed away, just like that. I lean against the doorway and ask, “Who else could it have been?”

“The delivery guy. I was hoping the food would get here before you.” He says. He notices my hand behind my back and looks a little confused. “Umm, what is that?” He points.

I smile widely and pull them out. “Daisies.”

He chuckles. “Is this because I brought you sunflowers?”

I shrug and giggle as he lets me in. He grabs my duffle bag for me and I walk straight into his kitchen. Reaching into one of his cabinets, I grab one of the small vases that I know his mom has probably given him over the years. She has a habit of giving him flowers at least twice a year - Valentine’s Day, ‘cause she feels everyone deserves flowers and she knows he’s been single for a while, and his birthday.

The flowers on his birthday have been a tradition since Jim’s grandma died when he was little. She’d always give him a couple flowers on his birthday and his mom kept the tradition up. I fill it up with water and put the daisies inside. He walks in right as I set the vase on the counter and turn around to face him.

***

Diversity Day

Monday morning, I’m the first one in the office. This isn’t necessarily rare but being here before Dwight got in was. Dwight is usually always the first person in the office. Yesterday, though, Michael called me and asked for me to be in the office at eight instead of nine. At first, I had no idea why he’d have me come in an hour earlier, but I didn’t question it.

I now know it is because a gentleman, from corporate, by the man of ‘Mr. Brown’, is going to be coaching us through what Diversity really is. He’s also gonna tell us what we can and can’t say about races and such while we are in the office. We all know the reason is because Michael can say some things that are counted as racist, sexist, and even homophobic at times, and not even realize it.

I sigh to myself and hang up my jacket. I go into the conference room and start putting the chairs out for everyone. Should I put one out for Jim or is he going to stand today? I decide to put one out for him just so he has a chance to sit this time. I hear the door to the office open so I glance out the door.

When I see Jim, I grin from ear to ear and wave him over to where I’m at. He drapes his jacket over the back of his chair and walks to me.

“Hi.” He says, his voice still laced with sleep, as he flashes me a smile.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Late night?” I tease, knowing we both stayed up late last night, texting about random stuff. Mainly about me having to get up early in the morning and that’s why I couldn’t go watch the new Star Wars movie.

He chuckles slightly and nods. “I thought you could use some help.”

He puts his hands in his pockets and leans against the doorway.

“Well...I could use the help moving the table.” I point over my shoulder at the table in the middle of the room.

“You got it!” He says, walking over and grabbing one side of said table.

I grab the other side and we lift the table. We walk it over to the side of the room toward the windows and set it down slowly.

“Thanks. I didn’t wanna have to drag it over.” I giggle slightly.

He smiles. “It’s no problem, Mel. What else do you have to do?”

After another half hour of moving things around the room, and getting everything set up, he helps me put up a banner that Mr. Brown sent over. The banner says ‘Diversity Day’. Hopefully the room is the way he wants. Just as Jim helps me down from a chair, the front door opens. Jim and I walk out into office around to see who it is.

A middle-aged, nice looking, in the sense he seems nice, African American gentleman walks in.

“Hello.” I say, sweetly. “How can I help you?”

“I’m Mr. Brown. I’m doing a lesson today?”

“Yes! Hi, I’m Melissa. I’m Michael’s Assistant!” I put my hand out and he shakes it, smiling.

He looks at Jim. “And you are..?”

“I’m Jim Halpert. I’m one of the Salesmen here.” Jim says, putting his hand out for Mr. Brown to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” He says, and looks in the conference room where Jim and I just finished everything.

“Wow. You guys did that?”

“Yeah. We came in early to make sure you had room and-” I start saying.

“It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

No One’s P.O.V.

He walks into the conference room and starts setting up the items he brought. About an hour later, everyone arrives at the office, and Michael walks up to Mr. Brown.

“Hey, uh, can I help you in here?” He asks, clearly not really interested in helping.

Mr. Brown looks up, “I’m all set, thanks.”

Michael nods, “Gotcha, good. I’d go with the rows. Good idea.”

“Oh, Melissa and Jim set that up. I’m setting up the papers and the rest of the stuff I brought.” Mr. Brown says, before turning back to the table.

Michael nods and walks out. He pats Jim on the back and gives Melissa a thumbs up. They both smile and Jim continues his sales call.

“That's the thing. It's very sturdy paper and on the back it says, ‘100% post-consumer content.’ What?” The sound of a shredder is heard throughout the office, making Mel look up. “Hello? Uh-huh. Wait. What? I'm sorry, Mr. Decker. I think I'm losing you.” Dwight is shredding all his old paperwork he doesn’t need, at a most inconvenient time nonetheless. “Hello? Hello? Yeah. Hold on one second. I don't know. Hold on one second.” Jim puts the gentleman on the other end of the phone on hold and looks at Dwight. “Do you really have to do that now?”

“Yes I do! I should have done this weeks ago.” Dwight says, putting another piece of paper into the shredder.

Jim takes the gentleman off hold. “Mr. Decker, I'm sorry about that. What were you…” Dwight puts another paper in the shredder. “Can you hold on one second? Yeah, just one second. Thanks.” Jim reaches over and flips the switch on the power supply, making the shredder shut down. “Hello? That's it. Perfect. So what I was saying…”

Dwight reaches over and pushes a button to end the phone call. Mel’s eyes widen, not actually believing that Dwight just did that to a customer, or to Jim for that matter.

“Hello? Thanks, Dwight.” Jim sighs as he puts the phone down.

“Retaliation. Tit for tit.” Dwight says, smirking a little.

“That’s not the expression.” Jim says, sighs.

The roaring of the shredder starts once more as Dwight pushes the button on the power supply again.

“Well... it should be.” Dwight comments, as he continues to shred his papers.

Jim sighs and looks up when the camera guy pats his shoulder.

“Hey, come do an interview.” He says.

Jim nods and stands up, pushing in his chair. He glances up at Mel and rolls his eyes. She giggles and looks at Pam.

Melissa’s POV

“I’m going to go talk with Michael about what is gonna happen with my wedding and stuff, okay?” She asks.

“That’s fine. I’ll be here. Checking emails.” I smirk, pulling up Solitaire on the computer.

She giggles, walking around me, toward Michaels office. I start playing Solitaire and when I’m halfway done, Jim walks out of the conference room and straight over to my desk. He leans down, resting his cheek against his hand.

“Solitaire?” He asks.

I nod. “Freecell.”

He watches for a second and then points. “Six on seven.

“I know. I saw that.” I tease but don’t move the cards.

“So...then...why didn’t you do it?”

“I’m saving that ‘cause I like it when the cards go ‘t-ts-ts-tch-tch-tch’.” I giggle as I move another card on the computer.

“Who doesn’t love that?” Jim chuckles slightly.

I blush and continues to play my game when Pam walks back. Jim hears his phone rings, he runs over and answers the phone call.

“Mr. Decker! Hello!”

Michael walks out of his office, a few minutes later, with Mr. Brown walking out of the conference room. Michael walks right over to Oscar and starts to talk. Mr. Brown tells Michael he’s ready for us.

“Oh hey, well, diversity, everybody. Let’s do it. Oscar works in...umm Jim? Could you wrap it up please?”

I look confused as I grab my usual notebook. Doesn’t he want Jim to get this sale? This is one of Jim’s biggest sales. He should be able to finish it. I stand up and walk over to Jim’s desk as Michael goes walks toward the conference room but stops and turns back.

“Yeah, uh, Mr. Decker, please.” Jim says, glancing up.

Michael glances at the camera as he speaks to Jim. “It’s diversity day, Jim. I wish every day was diversity day.” He flashes a smile at the camera.

Jim sighs. “You know what? I’m actually going to have to call you back. Thank you. Sorry about that.” He hangs up and stands.

I whisper. “I’m sorry, Jim.”

He just puts his hand on my lower back and ushers me toward the conference room. I smile a little at the feeling of his hand on my back. When we get to the conference room, we head to where we normally sit, closer to the back corner and by the windows that look into the main office area. I sit down and Jim sits to my left.

A few minutes later, Mr. Brown collects the cards he had us fill out.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Great.” He murmurs, politely, as he collects the cards from each of us.

“Come on, people! Let’s get ‘em in! Get in the cards! Get in the cards!” Michael says, clapping his hands together in an attempt to hurry us along.

Mr. Brown on the other hand is soft spoken, and very patiently with us. Once he has all the cards collected, he puts them together and then tucks them in with his stuff. He turns to face us, addressing us in a still much softer tone than Michael’s.

“Thanks for filling these out and I promise this’ll be quick. At Diversity Today, our philosophy is about honesty and positive expectations. We believe that 99% of the problems in the workplace arise simply out of ignorance.” Mr. Brown starts.

Michael cuts him off from the rest of his speech.

“You know what? This is a color-free-zone here. Stanley, I don’t look at you as another race.” He points to the only other African American in the room.

“Uh, see this is what I’m talking about. We don’t have to pretend we’re color-blind.” Mr. Brown says, looking over at Michael.

They start arguing over ignorance of the situation and I glance over at Jim. He leans back in his chair and puts his arm around me, resting it on the top of my chair. I open my notebook to a blank page. I reach and grab a pen I have attached to the notebook when a hang reaches out. I look and see Jim grabbing the pen before I could.

Because he is right handed his lines are messy, but he draws a tic-tac-toe board. He puts a messy X in the middle of the board. I giggle quietly and takes the pen from him. I put an O in the top right corner. He stares at the board before taking the pen and putting an X in the middle left box. I smirk to myself and takes the pen.

I put an O under my last one, cutting off Jim from winning. He breathes hard from his nose and stares at the board. He grabs the pen and puts an X in the top middle box. His eyes widen after realizing what he has done. I giggle again quietly and takes the pen before putting an O in the bottom left corner, marking me as the winner.

I glance up and sighs when I hear Kevin citing something. I realize he’s horribly butchering the Chris Rock skit that Michael tried to impersonate the other day. I shake my head and sigh. This is going to get bad quick! Michael cuts off Kevin from the Chris Rock skit, and tried to recite it himself. Mr. Brown tries to stop him.

He does so by trying to cut him off. Jim’s desk phone starts ringing and he quickly looks over. I look over at him.

“That better not be Mr. Decker,” I whisper.

He glances at me and nods.

He whispers, “It is more than likely.”

“Now, this is a simple acronym. HERO. Uh, at Diversity Today, we believe it is very easy to be a HERO. All you need is honesty, empathy, respect and open-mindedness.” Mr. Brown continues.

“Excuse me.” Dwight cuts in. “I’m sorry, but that’s not all it takes to be a hero.”

Mr. Brown raises an eyebrow. “Oh great. Well, what is a hero to you?”

“A hero kills people, people that wish him harm.” Dwight says, as if it is obvious.

“Ok.” Mr. Brown stares at him for a minute.

“A hero is part-human and part-supernatural. A hero is born out of a childhood trauma or out of a disaster that must be avenged.” Dwight continues.

“Oh, you’re thinking of a superhero.” Mr. Brown says.

“We all have a hero in our heart.”

Mr. Brown doesn’t acknowledge Dwight’s comment, but instead picks up a stack of papers from the podium and starts handing them out, while explaining, “Now, I need you to take these forms. This kind of expresses the joint experience we had today. And I need you to look 'em over and sign them as kind of a group pledge.”

I stand up, reaching forward to take a few so Jim and I can get out of here. Michael walks over to Mr. Brown and starts whispering. I grab two pieces of paper and hands Jim one. I sit back down and uses the pen from my notebook to sign my name. I hand the pen over to Jim and he quickly signs his name.

Standing up, he takes the paper from my hand and walks over to Mr. Brown. I stand and walk out of the room. Jim runs out of the room and quickly over to his desk phone. He picks it up and listens to his voicemail. He sighs and nods at me. It was Mr. Decker. He quickly calls him back.

“Yeah, hi. Is Mr. Decker around? Oh. Well, could you just have him call me after lunch? Thank you.” He hangs up and sighs, leaning back into his chair.

I reach over and moves his hair from his eyes.

“It’s okay Jim. You’ll talk to him after lunch and you’ll get the sale.” I smile slightly.

“You think so?” He looks up at me.

I nod and sighs when I hear the receptionist phone start ringing. Pam walks quickly out of the conference room and to our desk.

***

About an hour later I’m talking with Pam about her wedding plans when Michael walks out of the conference room. He calls us over so everyone in the room stands up and walks into the office. Jim waits for me. I walk up behind Toby and Jim steps into line behind me.

“All right? Everyone pretty? Come on. Here we go. It’s time. Let’s do some good.” Michael says, ushering us into the conference room.

“Hey, we’re not all going to sit in a circle Indian Style are we?” Toby says, laughing.

Michael says, with a straight face, “Get out.”

Toby’s eyes widen, “I’m sorry.”

“No this is not a joke, okay? That was offensive and lame. So double offensive. This is an environment of welcoming and you should just get the hell out of here.” Michael says, pointing out the door.

Toby sighs and turns, gently pushing past me and Jim. He walks out of the room and back over to his desk.

“Let’s go! Let’s do it. Come on. Let’s have some fun, everybody. Here we go. Take a seat. Cop a squat.” Michael says energetically.

Jim and I sit next to each other once again, but I didn’t bring my notebook this time. I am instantly regretting this. I lean back in my chair and cross my arms.

“Uh, thanks for coming in. Um Diversity...is the cornerstone of progress as I’ve always said. But don’t take my word for it. Let’s take a look at the tape.” Michael says leaning against a tv that was rolled in the room.

He starts the tape and he comes onto the screen, standing in front of our Dunder Mifflin sign. I roll my eyes discreetly and watch tv. I tone out some of video because I know it was going to be boring but I look up when I hear something about Abe Lincoln.

“Abraham Lincoln once said that, ‘If you’re a racist, I will attack you with the North.’ And those are the principles that I carry with me in the workplace.” the video says.

Michael turns off the tv and looks at us.

“Ok. Questions? Comments? Anybody?” Jim raises his hand. “Jim?”

“Uh, is that it?” He asks.

Michael nods, “Yes. I only had an hour to put it together but I’m going to add on to it later on.”

As time goes on, Kelly leaves, and Michael tries to get us to explain what race and nationality we are. I look over at Jim and sighs. He nods and uncrosses his arms. He puts an arm behind me resting on my chair as we watch everything that is going on in the office. After Oscar and Michael fight over nationalities, we hear Jim’s phone go off.

He quickly stands up and runs out of the room.

“Jim! Jim!” Michael sighs and holds up a board with note cards on it. “I have something here. I want you to take a card and put it on your fore-” He notices someone going to look at the card. “Don’t look at the card! I want you to take the card and put it on your forehead. Take a card, any card.”

I stand up from my seat when Michael walks over to me.

“Take your card.”

I stare at him for a second. “No.”

I walk out of the room to Jim’s desk. I hear Michael say something like, ‘Okay..I knew that was coming’. I lean against his desk as he puts down the phone.

“Was it him?”

He shakes his head no. “Nope. Someone trying to get prices on paper.” He sighs and leans back in his seat again.

“It’s okay Jim. He’ll call.” I smile. “Come on. Lets listen to how stupid Michaels Diveristy Day is going.” He smiles a little and stands up.

We walk the few steps to the door and listens in. I notice that Stanley has the card ‘Black’. Dwight has ‘Asian’. Pam has ‘Jewish’. I overhear Michael talking to Pam, who just tried to explain Dwight’s to him. She didn’t do a very good job.

I look at Jim confused. He just shrugs and we continue to watch. After a few minutes, Jim’s phone starts to ring again. He turns and quickly sits down, picking up the phone.

He talks for a few minutes.

“Mr. Decker, we didn’t lose your sale today, did we? Excellent. Ok Let me just get your..what’s that?” He pauses. I bite my lip in anticipation. “No, we didn’t close last time. I just need your...Oh...W-what code were you given? Oh, ok. That’s actually another salesman here. I can redo it if you want that. Oh, he gave you a discount? No I don’t blame you.” He says goodbye and hangs up.

I sigh and rub his back. “I’m sorry, Jim.”

He looks up at me. He opens his mouth to speak but looks down. He stands up, opening his drawer where he kept the champagne bottle and puts it on Dwight’s desk.

“No...” I say, sadly. He just nods and pulls me in for a hug, laying his head on mine.

I rub his back and whisper. “Today’s Monday so I’ll grab dinner and swing by your house so we can watch basketball, okay?”

He just nods against me. After a few minutes, he pulls away and smiles slightly. He then puts his hand on my lower back and ushers me into the conference room. We sit in the chairs against the window to the office and just listen to the discussion Michael is having. I lay my head against his shoulder.

Next thing I know Jim is gently moving his shoulder. I look up.

“Hey.” He whispers, smiling.

“Oh, sorry. Hey.” I giggle slightly, moving off his shoulder.

“We can go.” He says.

“Great.” I smile as I stand up, “I’ll grab dinner and go to your house?”

“Great.” He stands up.

I smile and walk out, going straight for my desk. I grab my bag and my jacket, walking with Jim to our cars. He waves to me as I get into my car. I close my car door and grab my cell phone. I call the closest Seafood restaurant.

“Hello? Hi, I would like to make an order for Soft Shelled Crab?”

#jim halpert #jim halpert x oc #jim halpert imagine #jim halpert x reader #jim halpert the office #jim Halpert x oc reader #james halpert imagine #james halpert x oc #james halpert x reader #james halpert love story #james halpert the office #james Halpert x oc reader #james Halpert #jim Halpert love story

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thran-duils · 5 years

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In Your Arms (Chapter 2)

Summary: Alone and pregnant, in the post apocalyptic world after your Alpha died, you’re found by the Saviors and brought to Negan’s doorstep. Negan may be the answer to your loneliness. Pairing: Omega!Fem Reader x Alpha!Negan Rating: Explicit Words: 1,610 Warnings (for the whole fic): Smut, fluff, ABO dynamics, some angst sprinkled in

Chap 1 || Chap 3 || Masterpost || Fanfic masterpost

Cradling your stomach, you followed Simon into the building meekly.

The walkers outside had set you on edge and you were immediately regretting your decision of coming back with them. You doubted they would let you leave with your RV, they probably assumed it was theirs now. And who were you to fight back? One against many? Plus, you knew Beta and Alpha attitudes towards Omegas. Even if you tried to stand up for yourself, would they just laugh? Or would it anger them you were challenging them? You had not thought this through.

But you had not seen this many people – alive at least – in months. Or had it been a year? How had you and your Alpha gone so long without coming across communities like this? You were staring, you realized at everyone person you passed. You half expected them to lunge at you, suddenly turned, wanting to take a bite out of you.

And they were staring at you too. Mainly, your abdomen.

You tripped slightly and focused back on where you were walking, turning your eyes down, following Simon.

Reaching a staircase, you took it a step at a time, pacing yourself.

“Where’s Negan?” Simon asked a random person on the first landing, and they told him a meeting was going on. “This way,” he directed at you heading to another staircase. “Sorry about all the stairs. It does help to keep groups separate and if need be, an escape if anything ever happened.”

An escape? Running up the stairs is the last thing you would do if walkers somehow got in here. But you kept your mouth shut. He knew the layout of the place and you did not.

“Where are we going?” you asked finally as he led you down a hallway.

“Meeting room. Meet the big boss.”

You were not sure you wanted to meet this boss. The further you went into the building, the more you wanted to retreat and hack it on your own. But, you knew that was not an option. Simon had made a point out there on the road. You would need help and need it soon to deliver this baby.

Simon stopped in front of a door and opened it without knocking. You stood in the hallway, unsure if you should follow. Whoever was in the room stopped speaking when Simon entered.

“Well, fuck, finally,” whoever had been speaking said. “Where in the hell have you been? You were only visiting the Kingdom.”

“Got sidetracked,” Simon responded and reached his arm out, meeting empty air. He turned back and saw you were still cowering in the hallway. He gestured for you to come forward, “Come in.”

Forcing yourself to walk forward, you crossed the threshold. There were people sitting at a long table, all eyes on you. You downcast your eyes, trying to avoid their hard stares. You scented another Alpha in the room besides Simon, your anxiety ramping up. Simon had kept his hands off you so far, you wondered if this other Alpha would do the same.

The room was silent, and you shifted uncomfortably. You risked sneaking a look at Simon. He was not looking at you, his gaze was at the head of the table.

The same voice spoke up, “I think you’re all making the lady uncomfortable. Get out. We’ll finish this later. Not you, Simon. You stay. Dwight, stand outside the door.”

Chairs squeaked as everyone at the table got up and moved. Your gaze flicked around at all of them quickly, trying to memorize their faces. They had to be important people if they were in the room for a meeting with the boss. Remembering who they were might come in handy later.

All that was left at the table was him. The other Alpha.

He stood up as well when the room was empty and stalked over towards you and Simon.

“Well, well, Simon,” he practically purred. “What have you brought back?”

“Found her on the road. Alone.”

You did not miss the glimmer in the man’s eye at this piece of information.

“Hmm,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Can you talk?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

A small smirk, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. Nice to meet you. I’m Negan.”

“The boss.”

Negan chortled at this and you feared you had said something wrong. “Yes. The boss. Over-fucking-see everything. ‘Scuze my language. I try to rein that in a little bit when I’m first around people. Don’t wanna scare them the hell off with it. Especially a quiet little mouse like you.” He shifted, “You out on your own?” You nodded. “Nobody else with you at all?” You shook your head. His eyes briefly swept over your stomach and he pointed, “Even whoever helped put that there?”

“They’re gone,” you said quietly.

Peering down his nose at you, Negan drank you in slowly. His gaze was intense, and you turned your eyes down, finding staring at the ground more comfortable. Even it was just a little bit because you could still feel him staring, tearing you a part with his eyes.

“Well,” he said finally. “You sure as hell can’t work to earn points.”

“I –”

“That wasn’t a question,” he cut you off and you closed your mouth. “I’m not gonna make a pregnant woman – especially one as far along as you – work for anything. Little thing growing inside you is the goddamn future. Not worth risking for some measly points in order for you to eat. You can make it up as soon as you’ve delivered that little bundle of joy. You got any skills, darling?”

You shifted, mind racing. You had been a stay at home wife, all of your skills were homey. You had prepared a comfortable home for your Alpha, readied yourself to provide the two of you with children.

Hands behind his back, Negan leaned in close and you stiffened. His said quietly, “Ya don’t gotta be shy. What are you good at? Everybody’s got something.”

Your eyes met his, your lips parted, staring into his eyes. His lips were curled into a smirk, waiting for you to say something.

“I… I stayed home,” you got out in a voice barely above a whisper. “I cleaned. Cooked. Did laundry. Organized social groups in the neighborhood.”

Negan said, “You kept house.” You nodded, feeling inadequate in the face of his question. What skills would that have now in this new world? “You know what I think you would be perfect at?” You gave a slight shake of your head. “Just that. You have a lot of practice. And taking care of that baby. And possibly others in the future.”

Your heart was racing at the insinuation behind that wolfish smile.

“I think you were made perfect for that.”

“I guess,” was all you got out.

“Give yourself some more credit, Y/N. You are lovely and an important piece now to this place,” Negan stated, straightening up.

You blurted, “But, whose place am I cleaning?”

“This whole goddamn place is mine,” Negan chuckled, leaning back against the table.

Pressing, you asked, “So… future babies…”

Negan let out a bark of a laugh and your cheeks tinged red at it. He noticed your embarrassment and apologized, “Sorry, doll. I don’t mean to embarrass you. I was just saying if in the future you find yourself again being… intimate, you would be the perfect choice to bear another young one.”

Did he not mean with him? Your brows furrowed in confusion at his words. Usually Alphas would try to pin an Omega down immediately, not leave it up to chance who would be the one mating them.

He sensed your discomfort and came close again. “I’ll keep my eye on you,” he told you reassuringly. “No one will get next to you that you don’t want next to you.” His tone changed, firm, “And if anyone does, you let me know. And I’ll knock their fucking head off. I don’t tolerate that shit. You understand?”

You nodded.

“You’ll be sleeping around our quarters, safe and sound upstairs. There’s actually a room that just opened up next to Arat’s. I’ll have Dwight show you around. He should be standing right outside. Look for the fucker with half his face burnt. Do you got any questions?” When you shook your head in response, Negan said, “You think of any, don’t be afraid to ask. I’ll check in with you later tonight before dinner.”

Taking this as permission to leave, you said, “Thank you” before turning on your heel and walking to the door.

“So, what do you think?” Simon questioned when he was sure Y/N had been taken off by Dwight.

“Any fucker you see trying to bully her or force her, you let me know and I’ll knock their head off like I said,” Negan replied, his eyes still on the door where Y/N had just walked out.

“I’m taking that as you’re pleased with her,” Simon chuckled.

Negan’s gaze slid to Simon, a salacious smirk on his face, “She’s exquisite.” He clapped Simon on the shoulder. “A little timid for my taste normally but I think I could coax her out of that little shell. Perfect that whoever knocked her up is dead. God, she was fucking me up just standing there.” He rubbed his mouth and said, “Anything she wants, let me know. I’ll keep her happy.” He saw Simon looking at him, eyebrows raised. “So, anything you want in exchange for that beautiful gift? I know you’ve been itching to beat in that fucker’s head at the Hilltop.”

“Accepted,” Simon returned with a wide smile.

~~~

Tags: @daniissuchadani

#negan x reader #my shit #twd fanfic #alpha!negan #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #negan fic #negan fanfic

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 5 years

Text

I’ll Handle It

Negan x Reader x Bart (OMC)

A/N: This was written for @letsby ‘s 500 Freestyle challenge. My prompt was: “What’s bothering you.” The line is bolded in the fic. This was my first time really writing Negan, so please be gentle.

Summary: After working her way up the ranks in The Sanctuary, (Y/N) is tired and has had enough of one other Savior’s forward advances. When Negan gets wind of what’s happening, he gives her the opportunity to handle it.

Warnings: Language, Violence, Assault, non-consensual groping, angst, character death

WC: 4K

Tags: @kazosa / @sorenmarie87 / @negans-wife / @wings-of-a-raven / @buckyscrystalqueen // @crowleysreigningqueenofhell // @rawr-bitchess // @fictionaldemon // @thewalkingbucky // @spnhollis // @hanaissupergirl // @sourwolf-sterek32 // @alyisdead // @gemini0410 // @his-paradox // @mrsalliej47

Getting stuck on clean-up duty wasn’t too bad unless you were doing it outside in the middle of a heatwave. Things around the Sanctuary were always hardest when the temperatures rose. If you were inside the factory, it was stuffy and warm with not nearly enough functioning windows to allow a breeze in. Outside, it might as well have been a sauna. Throw in the stench of the dead ones rotting on the fences, and it was almost impossible to stomach.

But you did. You had too. You learned early on how to handle your shit.

Being new there meant you had to work your way in; earn your keep. It was worth it for protection from the decaying world around you. Too many unlawful men and women roamed the world now, and you had plenty of that before the world went to shit; no need to continue the same patterns while also fighting for survival.

A couple months had gone by, and by doing everything they’d thrown at you, you were granted an upgrade in accommodations. You understood the hierarchy and worked hard to prove not only your worth but also your loyalty. The Sanctuary was ruled with an iron fist, all the highest tier people keeping a watchful eye over the day-to-day operations; while Negan watched over them. You kept your eyes down but ears open anytime they were within earshot, never knowing when you could pick up something useful.

The taller one, Simon and his friend Bart liked to talk shit behind Negan’s back. The minute the big boss was anywhere close, they would fall right back in line and kissing Negan’s ass. This went on for a couple more months and as you settled into a new life at the Sanctuary, your past traumas from time out in the wild were starting to fade.

Until it was brought back, thanks to that drunk piece of shit, Bart.

The hard work and understanding of your place in the pecking order, helped you move quickly up the ranks. It was those swift promotions that put you in direct contact with Bart Richmond, who answered directly to Simon. You were part of the canvassing crew, one of the groups that were treated well and with a good amount of respect when you walked the floors of the home base. You were out risking your life, looking for others to take in, new resources, supplies, other groups—whatever you could find really.

Coming back from an outing, it was late, and the rations had been low, so you were hungry and beyond tired. Before that run, Negan had Simon move you into one of the small apartments where you had your own bathroom, small television, and a kitchenette. For the last day or two of the trip, all you could think about was getting back to the Sanctuary and your little slice of Heaven there. As you were winding the halls back to your room, a looming shadow cut off the minuscule bit of light that guided you towards your room.

“Where ya goin’?” Bart asked casually. You couldn’t really see his eyes or his expression, but you could feel them on you which was not pleasant.

“Going home,” you mumbled and tried to move past him.

He blocked your path and grinned in a way that reminded you of the Grinch. “What’s the hurry?”

“I’m tired, Bart. Please move.”

“Aw, come now, sugar. You can’t be too tired for me?”

You looked at him incredulously and crossed your arms over your chest. “Move.”

“No,” he growled and took a step closer, ultimately pushing you to step back and hit the wall with no way to get around him. “I won’t. If you like that cushy little room you got and wanna keep it, you might wanna be polite and invite me back there…”

The closer he got, the more you could smell the booze on his breath. It was repulsive on him and mixed with the sweat from the day made him downright nauseating. The rank odor he wore reminded you of that night out on the road, weeks before landing at the Sanctuary. The men that found you sleeping in the hollowed-out tree had smelled similar; you could still feel their hands on you, holding you down and trying to rape you…

You shook the memory away and tried to maintain your composure but remain firm.

“What is your problem? I’m sure there are plenty of women here that would be thrilled to ask you back to their room. I, however, am not one of them. You wanna threaten me, Bart? Go ahead. I’d rather go back to cleaning rotted guts off the pavement then have you anywhere near me,” you growled and quickly ducked under the arm he had blocking your way.

Before you could get far, he spun and grabbed the top of your arm and squeezing hard enough to make you cry out. His other hand pressing against your stomach working its way towards your breasts.

He went to speak but was immediately cut off by a piercing whistle cutting through the halls. The ping of Negan’s bat, lightly bouncing off the metal railing that ran down the adjacent hallway wall caused Bart to stand up straight, immediately releasing your arm. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t before Negan saw the forceful grip, he had on you.

“Well, hey there, Bart,” he purred, flashing his eyes your way, squinting slightly as he tried to remember your name.

“Negan,” he said and went to kneel, as did you.

“No, no, get up, it’s fine. I was just shuffling by, thought I heard a little scuffle. Some sort of shit I can help take care of here?”

“No sir,” Bart said, standing straight as he could despite his mild intoxication.

“Wasn’t fucking asking you,” Negan frowned, then met your eyes. “I was askin’ the lady, here. Everything alright…?” he trailed off, still uncertain of your name.

“(Y/N), and yes, everything’s fine. Bart was just saying goodnight,” you answered, the second part came through gritted teeth as you glared at him from the corner of your eye.

“Seems to me that maybe Bart was a little too rough with you, (Y/N). You sure there isn’t a problem?”

“No sir,” you reaffirmed.

“If there is, I want you to know you can come to me. Especially if Bart here is getting handsy. You know Lucille’s rule, Bart… if the lady says no, she says no. No forcing yourself on anyone while under my roof.”

“Y--Yes sir, I know the rule,” Bart’s eyes twitched towards Negan’s companion Lucille, the dim light once again reflecting off her barbed wire accents.

“If you’ll excuse me… it’s late and I’m exhausted,” you said, cutting through the tension. “Night Negan,” you smiled at him gratefully and then threw another piercing look to Bart

As quickly as you could, you moved passed him and into your room, promptly closing it and locking the door.

By the time you were safely locked away, your heart was pounding, and your hands had begun to shake. You only hoped Negan hadn’t noticed. He had no use for a nervous and jerky soldier on his front lines.

Bart didn’t bother you again for several weeks. Until that afternoon he cornered you in the garden, you thought he was purposely steering clear of you. Negan, however, had seemed to take an interest in your day to day activities. Ever since that night he inadvertently stopped Bart from coming after you, you felt his eyes on you more and more.

Normally that unnerved you. Even if it wasn’t Bart or Simon… anyone that looked too long or eyed you in a certain way made you uncomfortable. Trusting people in this world was almost impossible; not that you could do it more easily before. Your life had been a series of bad choices and bad relationships. Always trusting the wrong person, whether they be a friend, employer or lover, you’d find yourself on the bad end of it because you trusted the wrong person.

Yet, when Negan was around, you felt safe and confident in what you were doing. The man himself was quite the showman, always making big entrances, a grand show of his power over the people, and how generous he could be. It was grating at times, but in a world where everything else was in decay, there was something about his arrogance that was alluring.

That afternoon In the garden while gathering food for a two-day supply run, Bart once again tried to get you in his favor by being an overbearing prick. Grabbing your ass as he walked by was not new, but then taking you by the shoulder, spinning you around and pushing you forcefully into a corner was not something you were going to tolerate.

“So, you change your mind on me yet?” he hissed through his filthy teeth.

“Fuck off,” you growled and brought your knee up into his balls.

He fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, giving a huge sense of satisfaction. Bart was on his side, knees were drawn up into his stomach and groaning with pain. You crossed your arms over your chest and was about to make a snide comment when he suddenly got up, and as he went to lunge at you, you were once again saved by Negan’s timing.

“Bart!” he yelled sharply from the doorway. Negan, Dwight and Simon stood in the entryway between the garden and the interior of the Sanctuary. All three wearing scowls of dissatisfaction. “What in fuck’s name is going on out here?”

“She kneed me in the balls!” he whined. “This bitch should be kicked back down to the fence crew!”

Negan rolled his eyes and then looked in your direction. “(Y/N), did you kick Bart here in the nuts?”

“I did. He grabbed my ass and pushed me into the corner. Not the first time he’s done it, either.”

Negan clicked his tongue several times as his expression oozed disappointment. “Seems Bart here needs a reminder of the rules. Simon, take him up to my office please so he and I can have another fucking conversation about fraternizing with his peers.”

“Yes sir,” Simon replied and grabbed Bart by his collar, yanking him inside.

Once they had left, Negan approached you carefully, but his gaze remained intense and curious as he tried to read you.

“How long as this shithead been giving you a hard time?”

“Its nothing I can’t handle,” you said stoically.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he said, his mouth frowning and his head ticking back and forth in consideration. “I don’t want him to get away with anything. But as big of a dipshit asshole, as he is, he’s one of my best scouts. You see my dilemma here?”

“No need for any severe punishment, I can handle myself where Bart is concerned. What’s best for The Sanctuary comes first.”

Negan was more than a little amused by your answer. “Hot damn, I think we got ourselves a keeper! You know, I gotta say, I love it when you strong ass women pop up and take me by surprise. Too fucking bad your type is in short supply.”

His tongue ran over his bottom lip, as he studied you. “Tell you what. We’re going on a run tonight, two days… max--”

“Yes sir, I was out here gathering food for that when Bart approached.”

“Great. Because I want you with us. You ride with me. 10-4?”

“Yes sir,” you repeated, pushing your shoulders back and standing up a bit taller.

“Good. Be ready to go in an hour. Don’t wanna waste daylight.”

On the second night of the trip, the necessary supplies had been loaded up into one of the following vehicles, but since it had taken longer than planned, Negan opted to set up camp for one more night before starting the trek back home.

Part of the haul had been several crates of liquor, including bourbon, scotch, vodka, and tequila. He handed out a few and told the group to enjoy, but still stay alert to any of the dead that may be lingering around their camp.

A few hours into the night, you went with Arat to go to the bathroom. Traveling in pairs was mandatory, and having her with you made you feel more comfortable then it being one of the men. Before you headed back, a twig snapped from behind, causing both you and Arat to unsheath your knives and prepare to kill. Bart appeared from the thicket instead and Arat put hers away, but you hesitated.

“Sorry ladies, had to take a squirt and got lost comin’ back,” he slurred, clearly intoxicated. “Arat, go on back, I need to talk to (Y/N) here.”

Being her superior, she gave a hesitant nod and did as was asked. The second she was out view, Bart swiftly moved around and blocked your path back to camp. He grabbed your bare arm and squeezed tight enough that you feared he may snap it.

“You fucking little bitch… you got me in trouble with the boss again. What’s with you, huh? I should snap your fucking neck,” he growled, bearing his teeth and his toxic breath.

“Get off me,” you warned through gritted teeth and tried to pull away.

He tightened his grip, pulled you in and grabbed one of your breasts with his other hand.

“Just let me get a feel,” he breathed, churning your stomach as his hand twisted your flesh under his fingers. “At least make gettin’ in trouble worthwhile.”

Struggling to get away, he yanked you further in towards him, then shoved you away, and your other arm straight into a branch jutting out from a tree. It was sharp enough to leave a cut that instantly began to bleed.

Bart just laughed and went to walk around you. He didn’t see the foot you stuck out just enough for him to trip over, sending him face first into a sticker bush.

“You bitch!” he roared and tried to get up to his feet.

You took off through the woods and found your way back to the camp, bursting through the bushes that lived at its perimeter. Conversations stopped as you came through, as all eyes turned to see what caused the commotion.

Ignoring them, you went back to your seat around the fire, and one person away from Negan. Once you sat down, you took a piece of rag from your backpack and used it to clean the blood off your arm. You were too intent on what you were doing to notice Negan swap seats with the person next to you until he spoke up.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

“Fine. Tripped coming back,” you lied, annoyed that you had to deal with Bart once again.

He leaned forward, got a good look at the arm Bart had squeezed and saw the very clear remnants of a handprint.

“Tree do that to you, too?” His tone dripped with sarcasm, but you continue to wrap your cut.

“Yep,” you replied, even surprising yourself with how short you were being with him.

"Don't you ever get tired?” he asked with an amused tone.

"Of what?"

"Carrying around that big, goddamned chip on your shoulder?"

“I don’t have a chip on my shoulder. I do what I need to in order to survive.” If you didn’t stay steely against all these incidents, even more of these shitheads would try to take advantage of you.

"Woman, you are exhausting." Negan smiled, "I'm not gonna lie, I'd like to see that energy put to better use."

From out of the same brush, Bart stumbled out and tossed a glare your way. When he saw you talking to Negan he quickly averted his eyes and found a place off the main group to sit. You noticed Negan’s eyes following him, then looking back to you for confirmation that Bart was once again at the center of your problems.

“Sure you’re alright?” he asked again, still calm in tone, but his dark eyes were ablaze with trouble.

“Yes si--”

“Negan. You can drop the sir, bullshit. You aren’t an ass kisser like them. I like you, (Y/N) your a ballsy chick. You handle your shit and I appreciate that.”

Unsure of what to say, you just nodded and thanked him. He sat, staring at you, then turned his gaze into the fire for a quiet, contemplative moment. You watched curiously as he suddenly stood up and garnered the entire group’s attention.

“I just wanted to raise one last salute to a job well done. When people can come together, work for a common goal and understand that their own personal needs don’t outweigh the needs of many, it always warms my big fucking heart.”

He moved slowly around the campfire, Lucille resting on his right shoulder as he smiled and praised the group for the haul they were returning home with.

“It just reaffirms what I’ve said from the beginning. We are all Negan. Working towards making the Sanctuary a place of order and safety. Giving to those who work hard, and caring for those workers that make our lives that much easier. The offer of food, shelter… protection, it's what brings the people in. For the most part, it works. The people I trust the most, work hard for me and that means I have to work fucking hard for them.”

Negan paused and searched the attentive faces in the small crowd. You watched as his eyes flickered from person to person until he landed on Bart.

“Unfortunately, there are some in this that don’t like the fucking rules. They think, in their dipshit brains that they can kiss my ass, then go behind it and do, whatever the FUCK they want.”

A soft murmur began to trickle through the crowd, and Negan paused long enough for it to happen. Something was coming, but you never really could tell with Negan, so it was anyone’s guess what he was about to do.

“Now… before we left on this trip, I had a talk with Bart. Didn’t we, sunshine? We had ourselves a nice fucking chat up in my office and he did just that… kissed my ass then comes here and breaks the rules, again.”

You swallowed thickly, and as if sensing your unease, Negan turned towards you and extended a hand for you to stand up.

“Twice in the last few days, Bart has decided to put his hands on (Y/N) in a manner to which she did not approve of. Did you?”

“N--No. Negan, this isn’t--”

“Shh, shh, just let me finish…” he winked at you and placed an arm around your shoulders, walking you around the campfire towards Bart.

“Bart here told me you were being a tease… said you’d flirt and then when he would make a move, you’d reject him.”

A sudden burst of anger filled you, and you wanted to choke the life out of the drunk.

“But you see, what I think happened is that he forced himself on you, and had you not fought back, would have committed one of the Sanctuary’s biggest sins.”

Bart stood up, his face twisted in anger. “Bullshit! You can’t prove nothin’! I don’t know what she told you but that gash is a liar!”

Negan gently raised up your arm marked with Bart’s handprint, that was already showing hues of a bruise in the shape of his long, gnarled fingers.

“I may not be a fucking expert, but this doesn't fit your fucking narrative,” Negan purred, taking great delight in the fear that washed over Bart’s face.

“Negan… I--I--she’s lying! I didn’t--I never--”

“Fuck you, asshole!” you yelled, unable to stay indifferent any longer. You thought about all the times he’d made sexual remarks or grabbed you as he walked by, the time he cornered you in the hall or in the garden, and especially just now. You could still feel the heat of his sweaty hand on your chest. “You’re a vile piece of shit who doesn’t understand what no means unless its Simon asking you if you want the ball gag out!”

Negan roared with laughter. “God, DAMN, I like this girl!” Once he stopped laughing, he turned his attention to Bart.

“Bart… I just… I can’t let this shit go anymore. You know Lucille’s rule, no force, no rape and you tried to break it after being warned to stop. So…”

Negan took Lucille from his shoulder and held her out to you. Your eyes went wide with surprise. Negan never let anyone use Lucille; hold her as an intimidation tactic, yes, but actually, use her to hurt someone… only he had that honor.

“Woman to woman,” he smiled big, clearly amusing himself, “Lucille wants to help you manage your shit. Have at him, sweetheart.”

Negan nodded towards Bart, and the two men on either side of him each grabbed a shoulder and shoved him into the middle of the camp to face you.

Taking lives wasn’t something you enjoyed doing, though you had taken more than you cared to remember. With everyone’s eyes on you, and Negan so close, watching every twitch of your muscles, you had to make a choice.

Bart was a cancer to the community. You knew you weren’t the only woman he harassed, and chances are he did force himself on the workers or weaker willed women. Your mind flashed through all the times he’d put his hands on you, or had you cornered in fear. It was what compelled you to reach out for Lucille.

The weight of the wood in your hand felt good. You saw why Negan liked it. You turned to face Bart, he tried to struggle away from the men still holding him.

Good, you thought, struggle against them, I hope they’re squeezing the fuck out of your arm.

Negan leaned close to your ear, so only you could hear him.

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart? Don’t you want to see justice served? Bart broke the rules,” he purred lowly, his voice causing you to clench your fingers against the handle. “Show him how you handle your shit.”

Suddenly, the fear in Bart’s eyes gave way to something darker, less scared and more scary.

“Go ahead, you fucking cunt. Hit me. Take me out in front of all these people. Show them what a badass you are. But you watch, one day it's gonna be you here, while he taunts someone to do this to--”

You swung, hard, bringing Lucille to hit Bart right between the legs. His light blue jeans instantly staining red with blood as the barbed wire tore at his flesh. No one made a sound except for Bart, who screamed out in pain which gave you a sick sense of satisfaction.

Your breath was heaving, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you cocked the bat back to swing again; this time hitting him in the arm, right where he had grabbed you as he continued to writhe on the ground.

As Bart continued to bleed out in front of you, you turned around to see Negan’s satisfied expression. His grin went from ear to ear as his dark eyes were drinking you in. Even over the unending moans of intense pain from Bart and the growing murmurs from the crowd, you could pick up Negan’s deep, throaty chuckle.

Negan took a few steps closer to you, then slowly cast his eyes down at the bloody mass on the ground.

“Going to finish him, or are you going to make the rest of us suffer having to hear him whining?”

That was when you took notice of everyone watching you again. All the best scouts, Negan’s inner circle and a handful of workers looked on as you decided Bart’s fate.

With one last encouraging wink from Negan, you picked up the bat one more time and raised it over your head. “You should’ve followed the rules, shithead.”

Bringing the bat down with all the force you could muster, Lucille impacted the side of Bart’s head, finally making him quiet. You stepped back from his lifeless body and nearly dropped the bat to the ground. You had the presence of mind to instead turn around and hand it back to Negan, who seemed appreciative of the gesture.

Reclaiming his girl, Negan exhaled deeply and turned back towards the onlookers, who were half scared, half unphased by what just happened.

“And THAT, my good friends, is how we handle our shit here at the Sanctuary. Now, who's got the Polaroid? Let's add him to the wall for prosperity!"”

#letsby’s freestyle challenge #negan x reader #negan x you #negan x reader insert #negan x y/n

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survivingxbunny · 1 year

Note

As a general heads up the rules page doesn't work on mobile none of the links on the pinned post do

shit they dont???

I'm not sure why the links aren't working, unless having the pages for the links aren't put in properly?? I'll look into that but I can post my rules here for easier access:

Edit: Mobile just hates links. If your using ur mobile browser over the tumblr app, u should be able to turn on desktop mode and see my links and they should be working

1. Don’t be a dick ok? I know the game can have it’s toxicity but we don’t do that here.

2. I’m 24 years old going on 25 so please keep that in mind, minors can still interact but for the love of god please DO NOT interact with any posts with the tag “Not Safe For Dwight” as that will be my NSFW tag

3. I am non-binary and use He/Him & They/Them Pronouns, if I catch you being phobic to my queer brother and sisters and other LGBTQA+, I will not answer your asks, and if your off anon doing that shit I will block you, no exceptions. This also goes for being racist in my asks, that shit is not acceptable.

4. I will not always be active on this blog, I have a life outside of tumblr and will put that over being here. Though I might also have times were im always here or lurking…It really depends on what’s going on during that particular day so if I don’t answer your ask right away please rest assured I will get to it eventually so please do not hassle me.

5. My headcanons and how I see the characters may be different than how you or someone else sees them and that’s ok! We all have our own views on the characters whether it be from their own franchise or from DBD itself, so please be respectful about mine and others views!

6. I do headcanons, Canon x Y/N and maybe match ups depending on if i feel like I can do it, so feel free to send in whatever you like as long as it follows my rules!

#Mod Obsidian

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yamiivance · 5 years

Text

Fictober 2019 - 1

Cracked Bottles can’t hold pressure

Prompt number: 1: “It will be fun, trust me.”

Fandom: Nightmare On Elm Street(2010)/Dead By Daylight(Personal AU/verses)

Rating: T

Warnings/Tags: Overprotective Parents, Abusive parents, References of some bad collage culture + references to Freddy Krueger, emotional outbursts, parents refusing to talk about things?

(Please let me know if I missed anything I should tag)

—

“Hey Mama?” Hazel eyes scan around curiously bright eyed and as usual a small old camera in hand- occasionally taking photos of buildings or angles on street signs as they pass them.

Her Mother's brown eyes meet hers with a raised eyebrow.

“Hm yes my sweet little Cassey?”

A smile split across Cassandra's face as she giggled hiding a bit in her grey-blue denim jacket shyly.

“Mama- please!” She gently nudged into her Mother's side with a nuzzle- who simple returns the laugh and smiles back, sometimes Cassandra forgot how beautiful her Mother was, she was wearing her nice clothes since she was sure Her father had shown her off to clients before allowing her to show her around town like this.

Her Mother was wearing a nice dark suit jacket, a purple dress shirt and matching skirt with black tights and short heels to appear a bit taller well still being easy to walk in.

“...Mama...?” Her voice rang out in question again the hesitation to ask it and the nervous expression on her Mother's face told her most of what she had already guessed but-

“...Is this the preschool- uh... is this the place... Dwi- uh big brother went too?”

Of course her Mother was quick.

“Of course not you know what school you and your brother went too.”

Hazel eyes widen and she glances away tears burning her eyes.

“N-No Mama not that-”

“WHOA HEY- LOOK OUT-”

A young teen's voice shouted out the sound of a skateboard skidding to a halt and the sound of a metal fence shaking a bit she glanced up and blinked as the teen looked at her and laughed.

“Ma'am are you ok- I'm so sorry I got a text from my Dad and it distracted me- he can be a bit overprotective but sometimes I don't think he realizes it that he can cause more harm then good-”

His laugh – his brown hair was stuffed under a grey hat- curls stuck out from under it- brown eyes- a strangely familiar face. She'd seen a face like that in her big brother's photos...

“Quentin-”

The teen? Young adult maybe? blinks shocked. She wasn't sure if he was older or younger then her big Brother but she knew that face from some photos he'd shown her of his preschool days.

“...Uh yeah... um how do you-”

“You were my big brother's friend! Dwight!”

She squeaks out the joy of finally being able to say his name to someone- to not have to dance around questions or be met with glares or sharp movements from her Father.

“...Uh--- Y-Yeah wait are you haha- oh my god you're his little sister right? Cassandra? He used to write to me about you he adored you so much from what I can tell! I hope you too are still close- how is he? - Hello to you as well Mrs. Fairfield!” He bows gently at her politely.

Her Mother's smile was polite but she'd grabbed Cassandra's arm tightly and goes.

“I...I am sorry Mr. Smith but... we must be going-”

“...But... but Mama-”

Cassandra's voice cracked, her whole body shook with distress- as her Mother went to drag her away- the worlds leave her mouth desperately.

“You haven't heard from him Mr. Quentin- I- They- Mama please- I...!”

“No buts. Cassey.”

But of course Quentin was already cutting them off-

“H-Hey wait- whoa now- ho-hold on- what you haven't heard from him ether- what- is -... you like photography too- that's his first camera huh? He trusted you with it...”

And yet his hands asked. 'Are you safe? Do you need help?'

She hesitantly responded with one hand well speaking something else.

“Yes of course he would I am the world's best little sister- hehehe!” Though it was a bit forced due to the sobs still wrecking her breathes.

'...Mostly, I just... need someone to talk to- they won't talk to me.'

He stayed alongside them- Mrs. Fairfield not even glancing at the two not realizing they were signing.

“Mama please let me go I'm fourteen not a toddler! I want to talk with Quentin- I swear I'll call if he does anything funny please-”

Finally she pauses glaring at Quentin but her glare wavers when she saw the kind and concerned expression on his face- she glanced away guilty.

“I...I am sorry- of course you can go- but you better text me if there's so much a HINT of trouble understand?”

“Of course Mama! I always do!” She hugs her before skipping over to Quentin, who gives her a little high five.

“You're a little smooth talker huh? You must get it from your Mother huh? She's a smart lady- here Mrs. Fairfield- here's my cell number if you need to contact me ok? If you're worried just call me- or her I promise one of us will pick up at all times!”

The women stares at the paper for a moment but smiles and takes it.

“Thank you Mr. Smith please do watch her- though if a hair is out of place I will contact your Father.”

The threat in her eyes was very real, and yet Quentin simply nods. “I understand.”

“What's it like Skateboarding?”

A laugh escapes him now. “Ah I see interested?”

She looks nervous now, her Mother had already started walking away.

“No- I mean... well it's not very lady-like and I- I wouldn't know where to start-”

Quentin shakes his head.

“Come on I'll take you to the skate park nearby ok? It will be fun, trust me!”

She nods shyly, and much to his surprise he pats his skateboard. “I can push you if you want so you can get used to it a bit?”

Her mouth opened a bit in awed shock.

“Are... are you sure?”

“Of course I am!”

She happily skips towards the board and sitting down, pressing her knees against her chest and holding onto the board with her hands, she was glad she decided on her nice jeans instead of her skirts today.

“...so you haven't heard from Dwight ether...?”

Her voice was soft, shy.

“...sadly no last I heard from him was he mentioned starting collage and being really excited about his photography classes... He even mentioned taking ASL courses again just to keep himself refreshed.”

Cassandra nods slowly watching the world go by from her spot on the skateboard.

“...But he... hasn't been in contact with you or anyone else, you two seemed pretty close- that camera proves it...?”

Tears burned her eyes and she hiccuped mumbling out.

“...t-they... won't tell me anything- he... he came home and- l-locked himself in his room w-wouldn't come out so... so I sneaked in and- he was all beat up- and and he was so upset and looked scared and- I... they won't tell me what happened and now he's just gone and they won't even let me say his name and and-” She sobbed shaking and gripping the skateboard tightly.

“Dad calls him a pervert and our brother believes him- and I try to tell him Dwight is NOT a pervert but he doesn't- Dad has him on a leash and he doesn't even notice everything's wrong!”

“A-and... and-”

She sniffs rubbing at her face still trembling and hiccuping but seemingly trying to calm herself down.

“I-I'm sorry- I... just- I just... no one will... listen to me and t-they treat it like- he was-”

“You don't have to explain that to me...”

Quentin's voice was soft.

“I understand my Dad's always been hiding stuff from me honestly... it's... confusing... Maybe Dwight is still writing me and my Dad's just taking the letters- he does that sometimes- I promise I'll see if that's the case ok? So don't worry so much relax. You're only a kid you can solve these mysteries in time, but don't forget I'm sure Dwight would want you to enjoy yourself too! Like learning to skateboard perhaps?”

“hahaha, m-maybe maybe... yeah I know I-I'm sorry for putting all that on you Mr- um. Quentin... I just... needed it off my chest thank you for listening...”

She sniffs as she stands up off the skateboard and stretched a bit, wiping her eyes and glancing to him. “...So... how do we um, start?”

He smiles at her, an excited one, adjusting his blue jacket a bit and making sure his necklace is tucked away safely.

“Heh, why not you watch me for a little bit, relax calm down and then we'll get start on those lessons huh?”

Cassandra nods softly as she goes to sit down, crossed legged on the ground and taking a deep breath, gently she glances at her camera which hung from a makeshift necklace Dwight had made her for it.

Scanning though the new photos she'd taken on the way here before her breakdown- the photos even before that back with her Mom.

Most of it was Scenery just slightly blurry from motion images of trees, houses and street signs, a few sneaked pictures of her Mother and the decayed Preschool as they passed and a very blurry image of Quentin skidding to a halt on his skateboard.

Glancing up away from the small red and black camera she watches as Quentin does a kick flip on one of the ramps, landing and grinding on the edge, though she can see he swayed a bit and quickly slid back down with his board and to a stop.

“Heh, heck yeah- what you think of that? I'm a little rusty but- it's not something I'd forget how to do ether like riding a bike!”

Cassandra smiles softly hazel eyes sparkling with excitement.

“It... was... AWESOME!” She'd got to her feet, dusting off and moving towards the ramp more. “Do I get to try?”

He laughs. “Of course but let's try and easier spot yeah? Maybe somewhere flat so you can work on your balance and how to move around first?”

Nodding excitedly she steps closer to Quentin- “Here hold my Camera ok?”

“Sure- can I look at the pictures Dwight used to show me the ones he'd take- any old ones still on here?”

She winked at him. “Of course, I'm sure he has copies of them but, I couldn't bring myself to delete some they seemed important?”

Quentin glances at the camera and starts looking though the photos. “Shout if you need me, but try seeing how you do on your own, just put on foot on and then the other and just practice balancing like that, then we'll work on moving and stopping.”

“Ok!”

He hums looking though the simple pictures of scenery. “These are really nice I'm assuming these are the ones you took today yeah- pffff hey that's me!”

“Yeah that's you dummy almost killing us!”

“hahaha I did not almost kill anyone you dork-”

He blinks staring at a smaller version of himself next Nancy and Dwight- and... in front of Badham Preschool's sign- and just above the little sign was what looked to be a gardener smiling with them... His heart gripped in his chest he wasn't sure why, he'd been young maybe that's why he'd simply forgotten preschool- but not his friends- or not entirely... but...

He scroll though more images of Nancy holding up a really nice picture and her looking happy- the gardener there again- Quentin on the man's shoulder him running- motion blurr and all- and then just... an image of the strangely familiar man again, wearing a red and green sweater and fedora smiling at a picture he was handed in what looked to be a basement? Boiler room?

...He wasn't sure why that image made him feel... uncomfortable, they all seemed perfectly innocent obviously Dwight must have liked the man to have such a good few high quality pictures of him- they all must have... but... who was he and why couldn't he-

“...M-Mr. Quentin are you ok?”

Cassandra's voice shot him out of his thoughts as he glanced to her on the skateboard looking worried.

He hadn't realized it but he was hyperventilating- and now the worried look on Cassey's face. He forces himself to get his breathing under control, not even sure why he'd been panicking in the first place...

“...I-...I'm fine? Sorry I'm not really sure... what... uh happened there- do you- did Dwight ever say who this man was?”

He points at the man in the photo hesitantly.

“Of course! That's Mr. Krueger! Dwight said he was always very nice to him- that he missed... having an adult figure like that-... I-... uh... I think he was the gardener of the preschool right...? Um... sorry that's... all I know really?”

Quentin nods simply a confused expression on his face. “...hm... thanks heh, I guess it's not always easy to remember things from when your five huh? -Anyways let's get started on those lessons!”

“Yay! So I think I have the balancing thing- but how do I move without tipping over?”

Quentin chuckles.

“That's the not so easy part but no worries here just try and copy my stance?”

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of-storms-and-sadness · 5 years

Text

Of Storms And Sadness 4

There was a girl once in Daryl Dixon’s life. She was his almost, but as life is, it teared her away from him long before she could become more than that. Years later, in the midst of all the chaos of the dead world, Mae Peterson walks right back into Daryl’s life, when he needs her most. Problem is, Mae is now one of Negan’s wives.

Though the girl never faltered in renouncing the life of comfort and safety beside Negan, risking her own life in order to give Daryl his freedom back, will that be enough to bring the two back together?

Pairing: none so far (Daryl x Mae eventually)

Warnings: Language (Mae does slightly overuse the word fuck and she tends to get quite creative with her insults ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ), violence

Words: 1640

Chapters: 4/?

Notes: THE rescue mission! :)

It was at sunrise that Negan and most of his men left for The Kingdom, just like Dwight said they would. Dwight left with them, leaving Fat Joey in charge of Daryl. It was a good thing - Joey’s infatuation with Mae being the very base of her whole plan, for of all Negan's men, Joey was the one she could always wrap around her finger with ease. Not that she did, but it was good to know she could. Merle should've left too, but got stuck in the shithouse, according to plan.

The compound was still silent, most people still not ready to start their day. Their truck was parked and packed ready in the backyard, near the exit, every single thing so far going just as Mae intended. Steps heavy on her way to Daryl's cell, she wiped her sweaty palms to the pockets of her dress, right before she made the final turn, heels thumping on the grey floor tiles.

"Joey honey, thank god!” The blonde exclaimed, nervously tugging on her braided hair, while she wondered if she was over-acting it. “Where the fuck is everyone?" she continued, not allowing the man to answer, "There's some shit in the dining hall, some guys picked a fight with a few others, and I can't find Negan, or Dwight or Merle or fucking anybody!"

At this point, her nerves did the trick, bringing her to the very edge of a panic attack and Mae didn't even have to fake the panic in her voice anymore, the slight tremble making her sound like she's about to crack down and cry. And it worked wonderfully, Joey being her knight in shining armor, and running right towards the dining hall, leaving Mae in charge of the cell keys and the prisoner, just in case. Because, who would've figured that the sweet blue-eyed blonde, the sweetest one of Negan's wife's, was up to no good? Someone might've, since she was never very good at playing a damsel in distress, but not Fat Joey.

She had to act quickly now, getting Daryl out of the cell and into the truck undetected, and that'll be half of the work already done. All Merle had to do was drive that truck out of the Sanctuary, never showing his ass here again, leaving her alone once more. Her heart clenched at the thought, but she decided staying back was the best thing to do, in case the two get caught and end up needing someone on the inside. It's where things turned south. Unlocking the door, Mae paused, a handful of thoughts invading her troubled head --

What happens next? What if Daryl doesn’t even remember or recognize her? It’s a possibility, it’s been so long. What if, to the man who was her first and remained her only love, she was just a distraction? What if that’s why he never came after her?

Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and turned the key, pushing the door open. Seeing the state Daryl was in nearly broke her heart. It awoke such anger within her, making her suddenly unsure of being able to stay here without setting this whole place on fire. She had her good days here, but this...she'd change every single one of the good days for Daryl to escape this fucking torture they were putting him through. The fucking fuck that escaped her lips was just a tiny bit too loud, the kick to the door just a tiny bit too strong. Mae was never very good at controlling her anger. Noise attracts people, and attracting people was the last thing she needed now. She grabbed a blanket from the chair in the hallway and gently wrapped it around Daryl, covering those old rags he had on, rushing him to get up and run.

All she had wanted in that moment was to hold him, for a second at least, but the sound of footsteps approaching made her set her priorities straight in an instant, pushing Daryl out of the cell and down the hall. His safety was way more important now than her confusing feelings were.

"Just run, Merle's waiting outside with a truck. Hop in and hide," but he kept hesitating, waiting for Mae to follow. The approaching footsteps were becoming louder and louder, and there was no time left to wait or hesitate. Mae froze when a guy showed up around the corner, gun ready in his hands and Daryl still not out of the hall, then she forced herself to react. If he fired the gun, Mae knew the shot would alert everyone, giving Merle and Daryl zero chance of getting out. It's why she reached for her knife, one always safely tucked in her pocket, or boot, or wherever she could tuck it in, throwing herself at the man and digging the blade to the side of his neck. The gurgling sound made her nauseous, but she had to remain assembled. Eyes circled the hall, catching sight of Daryl coming back towards her, while another set of footsteps echoed down the halls, these being slow and unsuspecting. Fat Joey’s.

"Shit, Daryl. You should've been out of here by now." But now that he was there, he might as well help her pull the bleeding guy into the cell. Having done that, Mae locked the door, cramming the key to the pocket of her dress, just as a well-known face emerged down the hall, meeting her gaze.

“I can explain…” she stuttered, raising her hands up. “Just don’t….fuck, just don’t do anything stupid Joey, okay?”

He seemed terrified, eyes stuck on Mae’s blood-stained figure, the knife still in her hand. For a moment there, she wondered if he was terrified of the two of them, or was it dread of things Negan might do once he finds out that he had lost a prisoner, a lieutenant, and a wife on Joey’s watch. Either way, she knew Joey was screwed. If circumstances were any different, she’d care. Right now, her mind was focused solely on getting Daryl out of the Sanctuary. And as she stood there, gaze stuck to Joey’s horror-struck expression, time slipping by, it was Daryl that grabbed the pipe leaned to the wall and rushed towards the other man, Mae remaining frozen as she watched Joey slip into nothingness from the impact. Daryl would’ve kept on hitting, but Mae locked her eyes with his and grabbed his hand, pulling him behind her towards their salvation. He pulled away for a moment, reaching to grab Joey's gun, then grabbed her hand back, running to the door. After the thing they just did, she sure as hell couldn't stay here and talk her way out of trouble.

Once in the back of the truck, she covered both Daryl and her with a blanket, signaling Merle to get going.

Passing the gates went turbulence free, Merle's shithouse story probably being the most exciting part of the guard's day. If only they knew what the day will bring…

And just like that, the trio left the grey walls behind, dashing down the road into the great unknown.

The silence in the back of the truck was nerve wrenching, Mae wanting nothing more than to wrap her arms around the crestfallen figure of the man sitting opposed to her, but something kept pulling her back, eyes staring blankly into her feet. Merle had been driving for a while now, and neither Mae nor Daryl spoke a word.

And though she just made her first kill, not counting the walkers, and though she witnessed Daryl murdering Joey in a way that made her blood run cold, all she could think of was the lost time. Things that could’ve been, but never have, probably never will. Damn, if he ever wanted anything, he would’ve reached out, would’ve come. Heaven knows how many times her heart broke at the thought during her years in Atlanta. But things were the way they were. And though she always knew he cared, he probably never cared that much. Not enough to leave Merle behind.

Head still bowed down, her eyes slowly drifted towards Daryl, suddenly realizing how selfish it was to dig through the past in a moment like this. The state Daryl was in made her wonder if he needed her to step up now, beat her fears and just be there, or should she just keep her distance, let him be, let him breathe? Who knows what he was put through?

Finally, she sighed and leaned forward, crouching on her knees towards Daryl, and placed her hands on his shoulders, her touch ever so soft, still making the man wince. She gasped, pulling her hands away, but placed them right back. Some things never change, she thought, his reaction not being anything new to her.

Creeping closer, hands sliding up his shoulders, she locked them behind his back, pulling him in. His head fell on her shoulder, and he kept it there for a moment, before entombing it in the crook of her neck, without making a sound.

They stayed like this, locked together like two pieces of a puzzle, the sound of the truck rolling down the road the only thing disturbing the silence. Then Merle swerved to the left, slowing down on the rocky side road, and stopping eventually.

Mae gently pulled away from Daryl, wanting to hop out and see what’s going on, when Merle’s voice announced a possible trouble coming their way.

“Looks like we’ve got company!” – the man said, and Mae closed her eyes, praying for it not to be the man they were running from.

Okay so -- they’re out! But who’s coming their way? Will it be a friendly face?

Tell me whatcha think? :)

Taglist: @jodiereedus22

(in case anyone else wants to be tagged, just let me know :)

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagines #daryl fanfiction #daryl x oc #merle dixon #negan #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #twd fanfiction

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blackleatherjacketz · 5 years

Text

Dirt and Ash: Chapter 5

Daryl Dixon x Original Female Character

Summary: Daryl follows a female hunter into the woods and finds out he has more in common with her than he thought.

This Chapter: Daryl finds out more about Angeni and James’ cabin, finally lets his guard down.

Warnings: Thoughts of Merle, Carol and Beth, Crying, Touching, Holding, Daryl blowing up, Daryl being about as intimate as he knows how to be.

Read the rest of the story HERE!

MASTERLIST

Tags: @mblaqgi @ivars-snowflake @negansdirtygirl22 @genevievedarcygranger @letsby @annablack1102

Daryl knew that The Saviors had covered a lot of territory in their day but didn’t think of all the small groups they tried to recruit in the past. What Angeni had been through was awful, but it wasn’t any different, or any worse than what he’d experienced with them. He wanted to tell her everything, about the torture and his escape, about Dwight and Carl and Negan, but he also didn’t want to end up shaking in a clearing with a dead rabbit in his hands.

“So how far’s this cabin?” he asked as they raided an old Piggly Wiggly.

“A few days’ walk.” She grabbed a can of sweet potatoes and checked the expiration date, putting it in her pack anyways. “It might be shorter now that I’m more… alert.” She walked up and down another aisle, passing up a can of bug spray.

“You make a lot of stops along the way? Any landmarks?” He grabbed a can of black beans and walked over to her, putting the can gently in her pack.

“No, not along the way. But there was a stream right by the cabin. That’s why James built it there in the first place.” She smiled at him and closed the flap on her pack.

“Yer sayin’ you had fresh water there and you still left?” He squinted his eyes at her, unable to comprehend how she left such a resourceful residence behind.

“I had to get out of there. Simon could have told the rest of them about the stream, about our crops. I wasn’t thinking about anything else but surviving, so I ran until I found that cave.” She fingered a tube of grape chap stick, staring at it so she didn’t have to face Daryl’s accusatory glare.

“Nah, I get it,” he whispered, walking past her to another aisle. “But that cave’s gonna get real cold come winter.” He ran his hand along the top shelf, hoping to find something useful he may have missed with his eyes.

“I’ve kept plenty warm before.” She paused and realized that he wasn’t so much concerned with her warmth as he was his own. “I guess James had some winter clothes that could fit you. They might be a little tight in the arms, but they should work.”

“Better than freezing to death up there in that mountain.” He took his hand off the shelf and looked around the rest of the aisle, searching for anything else they could use.

“Fine,” he heard her say, slowly following him to the end of the aisle. “I’ll take you there, but I’m not staying.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And you’re going to have to give me some proof that The Saviors are dead because I can’t keep going on all this blind faith here.”

“Proof?” He furrowed his brow, turning to face her.

“You’re going to have to give me something more than cryptic answers and a growl here and there.” She stepped even closer.

“What do you want, a red scarf and a baseball bat?” He leaned in so close he could see the flecks of dust that landed on her lashes when they entered the store.

“Something! I mean, you seem like a good man, and I feel like I can trust you, but you obviously don’t trust me enough to tell me anything. If I take you to my home, I just want to make sure that I can…”

“They tortured me, okay?!” He yelled in her face, knowing full well it wasn’t the right move, but it was the only way to get her to stop talking. “Put me in a box!” He threw his arm up in the air. “Shot me, starved me then gave me dog food like I wouldn’t fuckin’ notice!” He kicked the bottom counter with his last word, making sure not to touch her. “Is that what you wanted to hear?!”

He stopped when he saw her back away from him, recognizing that look on her face. It was the same look he had as a child when his father would go off the rails on him and Merle. Fear mixed with the anticipation of what would come next: a blow to the head or a punch in the gut. He didn’t think he would be the one to cause that look in anyone else, yet here he was, scaring this woman who had done nothing but help him since the very beginning.

He took a step back, agreeing with her decision to put some distance between them as he slowed his breathing.

“Negan…” he continued, trying to think of the right words to describe what he’d been through. “Negan beat my friends’ heads in with a baseball bat and laughed like it was all some kinda joke.” He paused and took a deep breath, watching the fear in her face slowly turn to compassion.

“He took me, treated me like an animal, paraded me around my village like I was his own personal property.” He turned around and faced the empty freezer section, grabbing a bag of pretzels off the rack he knew had to be stale at this point.

Silence.

“How’d you get out of it?” she finally asked, her voice closer now, gentle as he kept his back to her.

“Somebody inside helped me… somebody I helped before.” He opened the bag of pretzels, hoping it would distract him from the feelings he never really had to explain to anyone else until now. Everyone he’d met had already seen what they did to him, or knew for a fact what he’d been through. This whole explanation process was really uncomfortable, and he’d rather be doing anything else right now than telling her about his trauma.

He sighed heavily before tossing a stale pretzel into his mouth, slowly turning around to see her face as calm as her voice. She wasn’t scared or worried anymore, those expressions wiped clean from her painted features. Instead she expressed what looked to be pity and understanding; looks he’d only ever seen on the faces of Carol and Beth. Her ancient figure stood in this modern grocery store like an angel out of time, not backing away from him any longer.

Daryl swallowed his pretzel and took a few steps toward the front of the store, hoping his explanation was enough, but met resistance. Her hand, as little as it was, had stopped him dead in the chest.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t angry,” she started. “If you weren’t kicking and screaming.” She grabbed the cloth of his t-shirt and vest, crumpling them up together in her palm before bringing him in front of her. She searched his eyes as he tried to avoid her; looking up, down, and side to side before finally giving in.

He looked at her through greasy brown locks, his eyes wet and red as they told her the rest of his story. He’d never met anyone that held him accountable right away like this, that didn’t let him storm off like he wanted to after his feelings got to heavy to carry.

“But anger makes us stupid, and we can’t afford that out here,” she continued.

He nodded as his lips began to quiver, remembering all of the times his anger had gotten the best of him… with Beth after the prison, with Glenn and Negan, and the truck at The Sanctuary. He knew that she was right, and for some reason he felt safe and understood enough to let go. He leaned into her, resting his forehead against hers as he kept the eye contact he was always so used to avoiding.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her breath blowing his hair out of his face. “For what they did to you.” She let go of her grip on his shirt and slid her hand up his neck, reinforcing their bond. “For what they did to us.” She pressed her forehead deeper against his, the two of them like slowly battling rams as her fingers ran through his wild and unkempt hair.

He let her touch him, stroke him, remind him of what it felt like to be human again; what they were all essentially fighting for. He dropped the bag of pretzels and brought his hands up to her arms, keeping himself steady as a tear finally fell to the floor.

“We put what happened behind us.” She said, wiping his tear away with her thumb. “It stays here in the store and doesn’t follow us.”

He sniffed and nodded, squeezing her arms tenderly as he continued to hold her close before the long walk to the cabin.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fan fiction #daryl dixon fan fiction #twd fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #dirt and ash

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writingkeepsmewhole · 6 years

Text

To Close

This is part 14 of A Touch. Reader and Negan grow closer as the days pass. Reader beginning to help Negan more and more. Her slowly realizing that she might be getting a little to close.

Negan x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of past rape, drinking.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged: @dead-head-joker @cryiner @collette04 @catlovescats @blumenkind72 @frozenhuntress67 @chloebabyboo @daddys-littlewhitegirl

Part 1 Part 13

Over the span of the next few days I saw a different side of Nergan he was still a cocky flirty and made me want to smack him from time to time but he seemed to care about what I thought on things. It was like we saw a different side to each other. He knew about my past and I had a peak at his. We relaxed more around each other. I found myself spending more and more time with him. I was getting used to Simion and Arat. Me and Alexia was friends. I think me and Negan was as well as messed up as that might sound. I felt more comfortable with him then I have with anyone in a while. I felt safe with him. I found myself with I’m most of the day. Like I was his secretary.

That’s where I was now in his room sitting on his bed looking over the new shipment.

“What are you doing?” Negan’s smooth voice fills my ears.

“Going crazy.” I say smiling at him continuing my dancing.

“I believe it.” He says chuckling.

“This is a good song.” I say lifting the ipod he gave me. Lucky for me it was full of decent music.

Turning his chair away from his desk he got up and walked to me. Leaning down he takes the ear bud I offer him.

He puts it in his ear just as the second verse of Love You Like A Love Song Baby By Selena Gomez starts. I can’t help but blush realizing how the lyrics seem to fit my thoughts for Negan. He got under my skin in a good way. I don’t know how to explain it but he did.

“Not bad angel but it’s not really my type of music.” He says but not moving. Leaving us very close.

His hand was next to my thigh on the bed making him lean over me. His face only a few inches from mine the ear bud still placed in his ear as Criminal by Britney Spears started. He licks his bottom lip my eyes jumping to the movement. Reaching up he grabs my chin tilting my head back slightly. My heart speeds up and my hands get sweaty just as his mouth hovers over mine. In just a moment I would be kissing Negan but something in the back of my head makes me pull back. I didn’t want to be used or become a wife I couldn’t let myself get wrapped up in this, in him.

“Calendars.” I say earning a confused look from him as I break the silence ruining the moment.

“You asked me what you think would help things run smoother. Calendars. I made one for Rick’s wife back at the prison to keep track of stuff. I think if everyone had calendars we could keep track of what day we got a shipment in from one week to the next. Plus it would help with how people feel. They could feel more in control. Have birthdays or holidays even.”

“And how would we make them?” He asks moving to sit on the couch.

“That’s simple. At the prison I did it on one of the walls. I used a checkered blanket and a different pins to mark days and what day it was. But if you wanted to mass produce them we could make block calendars. A bit of paint and one bored could make a large amount easily.”

“And what year do you think we are in? Let alone the mouth.”

“Who says we have to do it the way things was before? Each season is roughly ninety days. So we give them two blocks to show days one threw ninety and another block for the season. Make sure everyone knows what day it is to write on their reports.”

“You think this will work?”

“I do.”

“How will we know when it’s the next season?”

“The plants around us tell, stars only some constellations are out in certain seasons. The weather. It’s not perfect but it’s something to get back to.”

“Damn darlin’ you really are something else. You write me down a plan I can give to the workers and I’ll be sure it’s done.” He says smiling.

“Okay.” I say happy Negan liked my plan.

“Now how about we finish this up?”

I nod and look back at the mess on the bed.

I don’t have time really pick back up where I started when a knock comes from the door.

“Come in.” Negan says taking his glasses off.

He always did that making me wonder if he didn’t want people to see him with them on.

The door opened revealing Frankie holding a basket.

“Am I interrupting?” She asks looking at me.

“Oh umm no sorry was just trying to help out.” I say feeling embarrassed.

Even though I knew me and Negan isn't anything I still felt like I was the one in the wrong when one of the wives caught me with him.

“I’ll clean up and be out of your hair.” I say as Frankie sets the basket down.

“What brings you here?” Negan asks standing up and walking to her.

“It’s our day to have lunch together remember?” She says it easy to pick up on her annoyed tone.

I quickly stack the notebooks and move to set them on Negan’s desk. I place the Ipod on the top and start heading towards the door.

“Angel.” Negan says making me stop and look at him.

I stand there as he picks up the ipod and hands it to me.

“This is a gift. You are meant to take it with you. Not unless you don’t like it. Is that it?” He says leaning down getting close to me.

Meeting Frankie’s eyes It hard to read what she is feeling or thinking but I doubt she happy about Negan giving me gifts.

“No I love it. Thank you.” I say blushing.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” I say Negan’s eyes making my whole body warm. I felt like we were having a secret conversation only problem I didn’t know the code to understand what he was saying.

“Good. Have a good day Y/N.”

Nodding I quickly leave the room feeling confused and horny. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I head to one of the mess halls.

I haven't seen Mark in days I didn’t know what Negan said to him but he was keeping his distance. I felt more normal then I have in a while.

Closing my eyes I roll my neck it sore. Being bent over papers would do that to you.

When I bumped into someone I let out a noise when I hit the floor.

“Your still here?” Asks a voice I've only heard of a few times since I been here.

I look up seeing Dwight.

“Yeah? Why would I leave?”

“I guessed when the rat left he would have taken you. I guess he didn’t think much of you?”

“What are you talking?” I ask standing up.

“Daryl left or did Negan not tell you that?”

Feeling upset I try to walk around him feeling guilty for not thinking about Daryl.

“You can run from me but you can run away from the truth. Your just a lay to Negan nothing more. Your a whore.”

I stop in my tracks that word always getting to me. My parents called me that when I got pregnant. The Governor called me that as he rapped me. I would be damned before I let another man call me that again.

“I’m a whore?” I ask turning to face him.

“Funny you say that because last I checked? It was your wife fucking Negan to keep you alive. I work for my points. I don’t lay on my back.” I say my head snapping to the left when he smacks my cheek.

“Don’t talk about her!” He yells pointing at me.

“Don’t say her name again.” He say walking away from me.

It’s not until he is gone do I spit the blood out from where I bit my tongue.

I spend the rest of the day folding clothes it feeling nice to do something I was used to. The past few days cooped up in Negan’s room has made me miss the mindless washing, hanging, folding of laundry.

“Hey Y/N?” Alexia says walking up to me.

“Yes?” I ask looking up at her from sitting next to a bucket of water.

“How about after this you come with me back to my room?”

“I’m flattered but I’m straight.”

“Haha funny. Just because i’m bi don’t mean I want to fuck you.”

“Language.” I say us both laughing.

“No really I bought some wine and I refused to drink alone.”

“Oh I see how it is. You don’t want to sleep with me you just want to get me drunk?”

“Pretty much yeah. Is that a problem?”

“Not if me being a light weight ain't?”

“Nope that means you’ll have fun sooner.”

“Alright sounds good. Just come get me when your ready.”

“You got it.”

It’s sun down when I finish my last load. I walk into the shed fully aware the way I tense up and look around my shoulder the whole time I’m in there. I try to ignore the stain on the floor or the way my skin crawls. The feeling of Nick grinding on me fresh in my mind. That something I didn’t have with the Governor after that day I never had to go back to that place. I don’t know why Rick decided to burn it down but I was thankful I couldn’t go back. I would take only one place making me feel this way thank you.

“Hey.” I jump at the voice making me spin to face the door. Alexia standing there.

“You okay?”

��Fine. Ready to go?”

“You betcha.” She says swinging her arm and grinning making me roll my eyes and laugh.

I follow her to her room making me realize it’s only a hallway away from mine.

“Are we having a sleepover?” I ask when I walk in snacks and bottles of water sitting on the table.

“Yes and we can like talk about our crushes and braid each others hair.” She says making me laugh.

“No I figured we could relax tonight. Have a brake.”

“Your not dying are you?”

“No! What I can’t hang out with my best friend?”

“Aww I’m your best friend I’m gonna cry.” I say sitting on her bed holding my chest.

“Oh shut up. Yeah your my best friend the first one got eaten I need a back up.”

“You should get a back up for me just in case.”

“Why you plan on leaving?”

“Well ya know everyone hates me here.”

“No one hates you.” She says handing me a glass of wine and sitting across from me.

“The only people that like me are you and Negan. And I know Negan sees me more as a challenge to get in my pants then the fact he enjoys being around me.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Have you seen his wives? Why would he bother with me?”

“Did you ever think he likes you.”

“Guys like him don’t like girls like me.” I say drinking the sharp liquid running down my throat.

“I think you are wrong about that. Negan doesn't let his wives do half the stuff you do with him”

“I have to work unlike them.”

“Not that. He took you on a run alone. He asks to spend time with you and you don’t have sex and the biggest one of all you sleep in his room.”

“It’s only when-”

“Nope you can’t change my mind. Negan likes you. Probably because your so stubborn.”

“Hey.” I say pushing her arm making he laugh.

“Trust me I've been around Negan long enough to know when he likes someone.”

“Have you had sex with him?” I ask curious and nervous at her answer.

Was I jealous about the thought of her sleeping with him?

“Eww no I’m not into the whole older man thing.”

“You act like he’s eighty.”

“Hey you do you. I’m just saying I like em more my age.”

I roll my eyes and sip at my drink.

“It’s weird huh? We don’t really know how old we are. I mean not really.”

“Yeah but I never liked my birthday.” I say earning a weird look.

“How could you not like your birthday?”

“It was just another day that proved my parents liked me when eyes were looking but the rest of the time I was shipped off with a nanny or after I got older left alone. I don’t know. I messed up childhood. Being rich ain't what most people think.”

“Wow I see it now.”

“What?” I ask looking at her taking a drink.

“Well we all know about Negan being crazy but your messed up too. Your both so fucked up you have to go together. There is no one else to match you with.”

“Match me with? What are you saying Negan is my one and only?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Besides your eye color and cute nose missed with his dark hared would make the cutest babies.”

Laughing I shake my head.

“I think your drunk.”

“Oh my gosh I have an idea.”

“Do tell.” I say finishing my drink and getting up to pour me another.

“You know about the bar here right?”

“There is a bar?”

“Yeah a lot of guys go there in the evenings to wind down. I say we get changed and go there and get us a nice body to lay with tonight.”

“Okay that sounded gross and I’m not really up to sleeping with a stranger tonight. I umm….”

“Oh right... “ She says biting her lip.

“Hey don’t worry about it. It sounds fun.” I say trying not to kill the night.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I can be your wing man, or woman.” I say laughing.

“Awesome. Let's get ready!” She says grinning.

I get the feeling tonight was gonna go one or two days. Extremely well or all hell was gonna break loose.

#The Walking Dead #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead negan #twd imagine #twd negan #twd fic #twd fanfiction #twd #negan x oc #negan x reader #negan fanfiction #negan fic #negan imagine #negan x you #negan x y/n #negan #a touch #to close

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warriorqueen1991 · 6 years

Text

Monster (pt.12)

Characters: Werewolf Negan x Melissa (oc)

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, talk of violence, death and the death of children

Notes: a little more back story for you guys, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter please let me know if ya wanna be tagged.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

They had been running for what felt like hours.

The sound of Negan's nails scratching against the wet road the only sound, aside from his ragged breathing.

Melissa shifted on his back tugging on the wet fur with a slight grimace, she was more than a little sore and she could only imagine how exhausted Negan was.

“Negan!...Negan stop!!”

His large body stumbled slightly before skidding to a halt, his shoulders rising and falling heavily.

Shaking his head with a snort, he looked over his shoulder as she slid from his back with a wince.

Flopping to the wet asphalt on her backside, Melissa let out a shaky breath.

“Y-You need to heal, and I…” she took a deep breath “I need a moment... ok?”

Negan let out a deep breath, the soft growl that followed making her smile. Stretching her legs out, she winced at the tight pull of her muscles.

Negan let out a low growl as his body began to shift, steam bellowing out between his teeth into the cool night air.

Dropping to his knees with a tight grunt, he let out a deep sigh “fuck”.

The wounds that had adorned his beast form were now healing quickly across his human flesh. His bare skin streaked with blood and dirt, as he shifted closer to her.

Melissa gave him a soft smile before leaning against his side as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, growling softly as he leaned down to nuzzle the side of her face.

“You ok?”

She smiled with a light laugh, her eyes closing at his gently attention “your the one bleeding, and your asking me if I'm ok?”

He chuckled “you didn't answer my question”.

She laughed softly, moving her face against his before letting out a heavy breath against his cheek “I'm fine Negan…” she cupped his scruffy jaw with a frown “are you?”

Growling softly he pressed his nose against hers before closing his eyes “Dwight was one of my closest friends...shit hurts, but I knew this was coming”. He grunted with a slight wince as he sat cross legged beside her, his right hand lacing his fingers with her left.

“I failed him ya know...should've noticed how unhappy he was and…” he shrugged “I don't know...done something”. Melissa frowned rubbing his knuckles soothingly “Negan you didn't fail him, he made his own decisions...if he wanted you to know about his troubles he would of told you”.

He sighed staring down at their hands “my packs out there...lost...and alone...probably scared with all the shit that's happened”.

She pulled his hand to her lips biting the skin gently with a small smile “we'll find them...i promise”.

He smiled leaning closer so their heads could bump against one another, their eyes falling shut before Melissa asked the question he had been dreading since they left.

“What happened between you two?”

Negan raised his eyes to hers with a frown, rolling his lips he dropped his gaze back to their hands. “You uh...probably heard about the preschool massacre in Tarrolla bout three years back?”

She furrowed her brow “yeah it was all over the news, something about an animal…” she trailed off as she took in his saddened features.

“...animal attack...oh my god!”

He ran his free hand down his mouth with a downcast expression “it's my fault...I was uh..interacting with one of the teachers there...she…”

Melissa cocked an eyebrow in question “interacting? by that you mean….”

Negan shook his head with a brief smile “no!...no nothing like that, my kind only love once in our lifetime...and we only share ourselves when we know for sure”. Melissa’s eyes widened slightly before she dropped her gaze “o-oh” he smiled lifting her chin with his finger and thumb.

“That ok?”

She stared into his beautiful hazel eyes before giving him a bright smile, nodding as his thumb traced her bottom lip she blushed. Dropping his hand back to hers, he bit his lip before continuing “she had cancer and would take these long ass fuckin walks in the forest behind the school”.

Melissa smiled squeezing his hand “she sounds lovely” he nodded “she was nice enough...but she wasn't you darlin, I never could've shown her my true self…felt like I was hiding”

She smiled softly “still, she was your friend”

He chuckled “crazy broad got me out of a fucking bear trap, must of looked like a fucking idiot”.

He gestured to his face “I shifted to keep safe and well...here she comes asking why the hell I'm in a forest behind a preschool buck ass naked...thought I was some kind of fuckin pervert or something”.

Melissa giggled “didn't think that one through huh?”

He shook his head with a light laugh “apparently not…I mean who the fuck puts bear traps that close to a fuckin school?” they both laughed.

His smile slowly fading “...anyway, not sure why... but she believed me when I told her I had been ran out of my camp by a bear and kind of forgot my clothes”.

He shrugged “honestly she probably knew something was up, but she let me get away with my bullshit anyway”.

He let out a deep sigh “after that, I uh...started going on her walks with her. She wanted to enjoy every moment she had left and she said she felt closer to god or something out there…”

His eyes seemed far away as he trailed off, his eyes misting over before quickly blinked the tears away clearing his throat.

“Sherry, Dwight’s mate seen me with her...a-and confronted me about it…” he growled “we're not dangerous creatures Melissa...we're protectors...we keep people safe!”

She could feel and hear the pain in his words “what did she say?”

He wrinkled his lip in disgust “said I shouldn't be hanging around humans and how I was putting them all in fuckin danger and other narrow minded bullshit...Lucille was the only fuckin human I had spoken to”.

He grimaced “and she had no idea what I was”. Shaking his head he swallowed roughly “remember when I said there were some of us who never shifted?”

Melissa nodded, her eyes drifting down to his hand before back to his eyes.

“Sherry was one of those who chose to remain a beast”.

Her eyes widened once more “but D-Dwight…?”

Negan shrugged “love is love darlin it's not like they were different species, just different forms”. She blinked mauling over the information, she didn't know if she could do that or not...but she guessed it would make a difference if she had the option to shift.

“I should of cut off all ties and moved the pack as soon as Sherry seemed uncomfortable…” he growled “but I was too fond of Lucille…” he shook his head in shame “selfish bastard”.

Melissa lifted her hand to his shoulder in comfort “Negan your not selfish!”

He grimaced “yes I am…” staring into her brown eyes he frowned “because of me Sherry attacked that school and killed dozens of children…” he dropped his gaze once more “and Lucille...a woman who just wanted to spend the rest of her days in fucking peace...ripped to shreds because I couldn't keep my fucking nose in the woods where it belonged”.

Melissa’s hand moved to her mouth in shock “oh my god, I'm so sorry Negan…”. He growled softly before closing his eyes “I...Dwight came after me because he thought hunters killed his wife after she attacked the school and I did nothing about it”.

He let out a shaky breath “truth is humans didn't kill Sherry…”

He looked up at Melissa with a deep frown “I did”.

She couldn't help the look of surprise as he continued in a rough whisper “s-she had gone fucking rapid...she revealed us to the humans and did so in the most violent way possible, she went against everything I had fought to build and I…” he winced “I put her down because of it!”

“Why didn't you tell Dwight?”

He growled “Sherry was god to Dwight, he would've never believed me...fuck he agreed with her actions...if I had told him I killed her this shit would've happened a lot sooner”.

Melissa gave him a sad smile “we probably would've never met”.

He chuckled softly “which means I'd be fucking dead right now”.

She smiled snuggling in next to him as he wrapped his arm back around her shoulder “after that, I moved the pack closer to Willows Creek but kept ourselves to the mountains...but” he bit his lip “word must of spread because hunters were aware of us…” he sighed “never killed a human in my life till I fuckin came here! Dwight wanted to go to war...I refused. Just cuz a few humans hate us doesn't mean I'm going to degrade myself to a fucking rabid dog like Sherry”.

“D-Do you know who they are?...I...I could talk to them Negan change their perspective”.

He smiled leaning down to nuzzle her cheek “can't tame that kind of hatred darlin...plus I think they got bigger problems now”.

She nodded shivering slightly “speaking of which, we should probably find some dry clothes”. She looked around before squinting her eyes to look in the distance “I think we're pretty close to Willows Creek actually...I think there's a small shopping center nearby”.

He chuckled “bet it gets alot of business” she giggled “it's the only place to get supplies so yeah pretty much”. Getting to her feet she offered him her hand “if we're heading to Willows Creek we gotta get ya some clothes handsome”.

He chuckled getting to his feet before glancing down at his nude form, looking at her under his lashes he smirked “not enjoying the view gorgeous?”

She smiled biting her lip before shaking her head “baby I love it, but others may not be ready for ya just yet”.

He growled softly at the term of endearment, moving in close so he could press his nose against her temple with deep purr. Melissa smiled softly closing her eyes as her hands rested against his bare chest.

Scratching her nails against his skin softly, she giggled as he leaned down to bite her gently on the shoulder through her shirt with a light growl.

Pulling on the fabric with his teeth, he chuckled before releasing it as she leaned her head against his chest.

Running his fingers through her hair he smiled, kissing the top of her head.

“Alright, alright... if you insist darlin”

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crzcorgi · 6 years

Text

Payback

chapter 7 of “Little Lost Soul” ~ Negan x selectively mute reader (Y/N)

Catch up here!

Negan x Selectively Mute Reader (Y/N)

3100 words

Warnings ~ Negan language, Negan & Lucille violence, bit of angst (reader is selectively mute), hints at violence and reader was abused in past

Under a cut due to length.

Tags are at the end. If you want on or off the taglist, please let me know!

Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!

I stepped into the bathroom closing the door softly behind me. She wants to come watch, to see those fuckers get what they goddamn deserve. Justice for all she has gone through. But I wasn't sure I wanted her there. How would she do? Did she truly know what I was capable of? How I exactly dole out said justice? It ain't fucking pretty, that's for sure. And I was more than fucking angry, I was going full on Lucille on them. I was staying calm, for doll’s sake . But fuck if I wasn't buzzing inside, ready to do what needed to be done.

I came out of the bathroom to find y/n patiently sitting on the edge of my bed. She lifted her head to look up at me, her eyes damp from unshed tears. She was holding her little feathered friend tightly to her chest.

I stepped over to the bed, kneeling down in front of her. I placed my hands on either side of her on the bed.

“Doll, stay here. You do not need to see what goes down with these fuckheads, it's not necessary.” I brought one hand up to her knee, lightly rubbing it. And she was okay with my touch. “You know what kind of man I am, what I'm fucking capable of. Please. Stay here.”

I closed my eyes, sighing. She has to stay here, I have to force her. Suddenly, I felt a touch, her touch, on my face.

“Negan.” her voice so quiet, but fucking soothing. I opened my eyes when I felt both of her hands on my face. She had a look of concern. Concern for me. Fuck.

“Doll, please.”

“Negan, I'm…okay. I…can do this.” She was having trouble getting the words out. Her fingers gently stroking my scruff. “I need…this. I have to…to see.” Tears began to flow, tiny trickles down her face.

I brought my hands up to her cheeks, wiping the dampness away. “Fuck sweetheart, okay. But promise me you'll leave if it gets to be too much.”

She threw herself into my arms, freaking the fuck out of me. “Thank you Negan.” Her soft voice made ever softer by her face being in my shirt. I slowly snaked my arms around her, pulling her even tighter to me.

“You'll be safe doll, nothing bad is ever going to happen to you again.” I didn't want to let go of her, but knew I had to. I had business to attend to.

And Lucille was itching to crack some fucker’s skulls.

I pulled away, y/n’s big eyes looking up at me. “Maybe your little friend should stay here? Don't want the little fucker getting lost or hurt. What do you say doll?”

She moved away from me, walking over to the sofa and sitting down. I watched as she put the feathered fucker in the box. She was so gentle, her movements, touches, so delicate. I couldn't fucking understand how someone so innocent, so fucking pure, could have survived in such a dirty evil world that we have evolved into.

She turned to look at me, her lips turning up into a reluctant smile. Standing, she moved back towards me, offering me her hand.

“I'm ready Negan.” Her voice so small and hoarse.

“Okay sweet girl. But remember what I said, you become fucking uncomfortable at any time, you bolt. Okay?” I looked down at her, taking her tiny fingers into mine.

Grabbing Lucille in my free hand, then opening the door, I let her step out into the hallway first, I followed behind, our hands still together.

I felt y/n move closer to me and looked to see Simon coming towards us.

“Everything's set, ready to go bossman.”

“Thank you Simon. Head back down, we’ll be there in just a few.” I wanted to walk with doll alone. I know people made her nervous, especially men, no fucking wonder why. So I thought it best if we make the trip alone. As we headed down the hall I openly groaned when I saw my wives standing outside of their quarters.

Fuck if i don't need this.

“Ladies, and why the fuck are we all standing out here? Don't you all have something better to do than fucking

blocking the hallway? I'm sure someone needs to do their nails.”

I could feel y/n slowly backing up, her tiny body trying to hide the best it could.

“Well, Negan, Dwight told us we have to go downstairs, something about some guys, punishment, all having to do with your little deaf girl.” Amber’s annoying voice making me fucking cringe.

They all were trying to peek around me, trying to get a fucking good look at doll.

“No, you all just get your asses back inside your rooms. We don't need your fucking theatrics. This doesn't involve you. So git.” I waved my hand dismissively at them, trying to tuck y/n under my arm tighter. “And not that fucking care, but she's not fucking deaf, Amber.” Jesus.

I knew what would happen, it's what always fucking happened with them. Someone faints, someone fucking cries. And this time, with y/n. The fucking questions. I didn't need it. And doll certainly didn't.

I started walking towards the elevator, y/n safely tucked under my arm. I ignored my wives, chattering away. I don't know if it they were talking to me or not. I just had two things on my mind. Doling out justice. And taking care of y/n.

I pushed the button, impatiently waiting for the elevator car, tapping Lucille on the toe of my boot, almost forgetting about the little bird tucked into me.

“Still want to be a witness to my punishment, darling? No shame if you decide not to. It's not necessary.” I tried to read her face. Was she scared, nervous? Fucking understandable given the circumstances. But no, I don't think that was it at all. It almost seemed to be anger, defiance, justice. Good for her, I was liking this little girl more and more.

“I'm…okay.” She sighed, looking up at me with those big y/e/c eyes. “Thank you Negan.”

I squeezed her just a bit tighter. “No need to thank me sweetheart, it's my job, it's what I do.”

She blinked, her eyes staying shut for a second. Opening them, I could see the beginnings of tears. “Yes…yes I do. No one…not before…not after the end…has been as kind to me.” She sniffed, taking the hand that wasn't clutching onto my jacket belt, and wiped at the falling teardrops. “Except my sister.” Her voice fucking rough and almost indiscernible.

I cleared my throat, fucking dirty air. “Get used to it then doll, I take care of those I care about. It's what I fucking do, it's who I am.” The elevator door opened just then, and I guided y/n into the car.

Not pushing the button just yet, I turned to have a more direct view to y/n. “Still time to turn back darling. I know you said you need to be there. If you need proof of the fuckers demise, I'll show you some. Doll, I just hope…” I didn't know what to say, I wanted to just say “fuck it” and make her go back to my room. I finally seemed to have gained her trust. But my fucking guess was that after she saw what was gonna be going down, we'd be back to square fucking one.

She side-stepped me, pushing the down button. “You are wanted…downstairs. Don't want…to be late.” And I could have sworn she fucking winked at me, a little sly smirk pulling at her lips.

I pulled her into my side, a little squeak coming from her. “Okay y/n, I won't ask again. But promise me something…” I brought my hand up, taking a hold of her chin. “This will not change how you feel about me, the shared trust we have gained. I am who I am doll. I have made our world, The Sanctuary, what it is, a safe home for those who follow the rules. If you can't follow them, or choose not to, there are punishments, consequences. It's what keeps us alive.”

She looked up at me. “I won't feel…any different. I get it. Your rules, they…keep order…keep people safe.”

I let go of her chin, my fingers stroking her cheek quickly. She was such a fucking breath of fresh air in this filthy place. I brought my hand up to my chin, rubbing it.

“Fuck, I gotta shave this shit.” I snickered.

“I like it.”

“What's that, doll?”

“I like your…beard…a beard…to me, demands respect. Like you…mean business.” Her voice fucking quiet from overuse.

“You think sweetheart? Maybe I'll keep it then.” I couldn't fucking help the smile appearing on my face.

The elevator car stopped, the door sliding open to find Dwight waiting just outside. Y/N, slid behind me so I took the lead, stepping out into the hallway.

“Everything set, D?”

Dwight looked up at me, sheepishly. “Yes. But there was a bit of a, a commotion. Two of the men started arguing and a kind of, uh, fight broke out.”

“Jesus, Dwight, what the fuck?! Your men can't control a couple of shitheads?!” I shook my head.

“Uh, well, no, Yes, I mean, we took the two combatants back to their cells for now. There's two waiting for you on the main floor right now.”

“Fine, Jesus. Head back in there, I'll be right in.” Dwight nodded his head, turning to walk back the way he'd come. “And Dwight…”

He turned. “Yes?”

“Don't fuck this up, you fucking hear me?”

He nodded again, turned and disappeared down the hall.

I turned my head to glance down at y/n, who was still holding onto my jacket belt. But had moved around to my back. She looked up at me, a fake smile appearing on her face.

“Ready doll?” I was hoping she would say nope, pushing the ‘up’ button, and jumping back in the elevator. She seemed to have faith in our new found trust filled friendship. Faith I didn't share.

She came around to my side, letting go of my belt finally, but grabbing my hand. “I'm more than ready, Negan. Let's go.”

She spoke with no hesitation, her voice loud and clear. She wasn't changing her mind, she wanted to be there, to witness the punishment that I was more than eager to dole out.

And I was chomping at the bit.

Y/N pulled me down the hall and through the doors to the main room. As we stepped through the doors, the Sanctuary residents fell to their knees. Standing in front of me, y/n started to kneel, but I stopped her.

“No need sweetheart. Why don't you go sit over where the doctor is.”

She moved her hand up my arm, squeezing tightly. Rising up on her toes, she kissed my cheek, pulling back, I saw a sweet smile on her lips.

“Thank you, Negan.”

She stepped back, turning to make her way over to Carson, taking a seat. Watching her, I was in fucking awe. She walked right by those fuckers that abused her. She held that beautiful head of hers up high, never looking their way. They sure as fucked looked at her though, and damn if I didn't want to go over there right this fucking second and rip those stupid melons off their necks.

But one thing was sure, I was ready for some punishments.

“Well, well, well. We all meet again. When you all first come to the Sanctuary, you are greeted by yours truly.” I tapped Lucille against my chest. “And what do I do?” I glanced around at the full room, most fuckers just trying their damndest not to make eye contact. Good, a little fear doesn't hurt. My eyes than land on the fuckers that brought us all here. “I introduce myself, and then proceed to describe what exactly living at the Sanctuary entails. Our various jobs, the point system, and most importantly, our rules. There aren't many, but what we have come up, what I have decided, are VERY FUCKING IMPORTANT. Do we all want to survive? Do we all want to live as fucking normal as is fucking possible? Do we want to continue as fucking productive citizens. Fuck YES we do!”

I was pacing back and forth in front of the crowd, my back to those fuckity fucking monsters. I couldn't look at them without whacking them now. I needed to do this, this was the most important part of any punishment. People needed to be reminded, it's fucking human nature to want to push the rules a little, see what you can safely get away without consequences. But since the fucking end, we can't afford those little lapses of self autonomy, we won't fucking survive. I've seen it, too many times before. They need me.

I continued on. “One of my, OUR most important rules is WE DO NOT RAPE. So, I need you all to fucking repeat that.” I turned to face the fuckers, walking over to stand in front of them, my feet just inches from them, swinging Lucille off of her place on my shoulder. I leaned down, pointing Lucille at each of their fucking junk.

“WE DO NOT RAPE!” The room echoed from all of the voices repeating my top law. But two voices were distinctly missing from the chorus.

I was gripping so tightly to Lucille I was afraid she would fucking splinter. I closed my eyes, trying to count to fucking ten. Taking those fuckers out right now would not teach anyone anything, just showing my brute force. No, I needed to control this anger and finish it the way of the Sanctuary.

Opening my eyes, I turned to steal a glance at y/n. She was still sitting stick straight, her sweet y/e/c eyes on me. I was sure she'd be crying by now, scared. But no, not a fucking tear on her face. Just her lips turning up into a smile. For me. I can do this, I will finish this the right way. For doll.

“Gentlemen, and fucking believe me, I use that term fucking loosely. May I ask why you didn't repeat the most important rule?” I had now moved Lucille upwards, swinging her back and forth between their faces.

“We don't follow no stupid rules. And besides, she's our fucking property, you can't tell us what we can do with what we own. You ain't God.” Fucker laughed, which then caused the other shithead to fucking laugh too.

“Ohhh, you did not just fucking say that!” I slammed Lucille down right between the fuckers spread legs.

I took in another deep breath, bringing Lucille back up to my face vertically, whispering, “Lucille, give me strength.”

I dropped Lucille, landing just inches from the first fuckheads nose. “So this…” I swung my free arm around me. “All of the Sanctuary is yours?!”

“No.”

“How about yours?” Lucille moved to the other asswipe.

“No.”

I shook my head, a smirk creeping up. “So you don't make, or enforce the rules, correct?! And you chose to live here, knowing the rules.”

“Yes.” Answered in unison.

“So you understand that you disobeyed the rules, thinking that you were somehow above them or exempt, correct?” They both nodded.

“Well, then you must agree, must understand, that you have to be, most certainly fucking WILL BE punished.” I looked at them both, finally seeing some fucking fear in their eyes. I stole a look at y/n, she was still as stoic as before, not a hint of sadness, fear or regret. Once again, she smiled at me. Amazing.

“I played little league when I was a little fucker. Wasn't half bad. Designated hitter I was.” I was now just walking around, swinging Lucille.

“But you know what? They kicked me off the team. Said I was too ‘rough’ with my swings. That 8 year olds shouldn't be so violent. Whatever the fuck. I love to hit, with bats, so what?”

I swung around, Lucille coming in contact with first fuckers head with a resounding CRACK! Bringing her back around, I brought her quickly to Number 2’s melon, another loud CRACK! echoing throughout the hall.

I continued, going back and forth between the two of them. A Smack! here, a THUD! there. I couldn't fucking stop. I heard their cries, the moans, the pleas for mercy. I didn't fucking give a damn. These fuckers deserved no mercy. They showed doll no mercy. No one needed, wanted to hear they pleas, cries, y/n had no voice because of them.

I saw doll’s sweet face when she first came to me. I pictured in my head what those fuckers had done to her, made her so scared, so fucking untrusting. Made her lose her ability to speak.

I kept swinging, blood, brain matter, fucking guts, flying through the air, plastering itself to my body, my face. Covering anyone, anything, in its reach. I couldn't stop, my anger making me come even more unhinged. I began hitting them anywhere on their bodies that wasn't already mangled and mutilated. I continued, couldn't stop. I felt nothing but pure anger, hatred, I was in a zone.

What stopped me was a barely recognized touch. A soft pat, a caress on my upper back. And a soft whisper in my ear.

“Negan, it's done. You can stop now.” I dropped Lucille, my arms burning from overuse. I was shaking, anger, adrenaline, I fucking don't know. I came back around, noticing everyone looking at me, a state of shock on all of their faces. I wanted to scream st the fuckers. Don't you get it? They deserved what they fucking got. Shit, they should have gotten worse.

I looked to my left and there she was. Her beautiful face, not a look of shock, just concern, caring. She was slowly rubbing my back, my blood covered jacket dripping on her arm. She didn't care.

“Let's go upstairs. Get you cleaned up. Clean Lucille a bit too.” She laced her fingers thru my bloody ones, not even flinching. She then leaned down, picking up Lucille and handing her to me.

“Thank you doll.” I let her lead the way out. I stopped in the doorway, turning to speak “On your way. Simon, D, get this cleaned up.”

“Boss? The other two?”

Shit. “Take them out back and do what needs to be done. I'm through.”

I looked down at y/n, hoping she was okay with my fucking choice. She smiled up at me, nodding her head.

As we walked down the hallway to the elevator I realized something. I was feeling different, freer, fucking better than I'd felt in a lifetime.

I couldn't save my Lucille. But I saved y/n. And that felt damn fucking good.

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