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Give Me Hell

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One last erratic groan, one last breath and you know it's all done. You're finally in the clear after hours and hours of fighting off the dead in this small, lost in the middle of nowhere, church.

"The hell're you looking at?" you ask angrily at the huge statue standing tall in the small place before sighing deeply and sitting on one of the many wooden benches in the church.

This is just an another part of your "routine". You're used to this, all of it, the blood covering your hands, clothes soaking in it, your trustworthy bow on your back, its string hugging your body and your bloody butterfly knife in your hand, knuckles white around the body of the weapon.

You're a lone survivor, you've been with a few groups before but it never worked out, you'd either get scared of losing the people you were with and leave or you'd actually stick around and just watch it happen anyway. Hell, you always wonder how you've made it this far, how did you succeed where all your friends failed and payed one hell of a price for it?

"Alright [y/n], get it together, get what you need and get the heck out of here before more of 'em show up, again." you whisper to yourself, trying to get a little motivation out of you.

You slowly get up letting out a loud groan of pain, you never take some time out just to see, let alone take care of, just how much damages have been done to your body and you sure as shit are paying the price for it.

"Alright, shoot, okay, first thing first... Search the bodies."

You hate doing this, you hate looting bodies but you know it's necessary.

You've seen a lot of bad things, really bad things, but, still, your humanity is still right here and it seems like it's not going anywhere anytime soon which makes you feel at ease but also angers you at times. Now, don't get twisted, you're human, you're vulnerable, naive and ridiculously shy but you are far from being weak.

A good fifteen minutes later, you're all done and you're pretty happy with the things that you're putting in your denim backpack; a bunch of candy bars, two lighters and you even found a book in one of the dead survivors' backpack along with a Gameboy.

"Shoot... That's so cool, dude!" you say, looking at the huge grey box in your tiny hand, with a huge, sincere, smile on your face, giggling like a child at your new found.

it's gonna distract you [y/n], just put it back.

Your smile fades and you quickly pull yourself together before throwing the Gameboy in your backpack, ignoring the voice in your head, and closing it before getting back up to start looking around the place, hell, you didn't almost die to get out of this place empty handed.

"Nope, not happening." you mutter to yourself but you quickly get frustrated while looking around when you realize that the only useful things you'll find today are going to be the ones you've found on the dead. You sigh and grab the bible sitting next to you on a big table, shove it in your backpack and leave the place, not bothering to close the door behind you, frustrated and irritated.

"This is such bullshit." you mumble angrily in the air.

You then start to hear noises around you as you get closer to the woods surrounding the area and you know better than to stick around but you freeze into place when you hear different sets of footsteps going around.

no way these are walkers, [y/n], move!

Your body and mind are on full alert and you quickly climb on a nearby tree going as high as your weakening body will allow you to go before, out of breath, you come to a stop and straddle a thick branch, putting your backpack between your parted legs, holding it close to you, your breathing erratic and short.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckidy fuck." you shakily whisper into your bag as you hear whistles going around in the woods, the noises way too close to comfort for you.

Even though you're seriously high up on the tree and clearly out of sight, you can't help but shake and pant like the scared child you used to be, you feel a knot forming in your stomach and your throat getting tight, keeping you from breathing properly, making your panic grow stronger and sending your body and brain into overdrive.

"What d'you find?" you hear a loud, kind of "in your face", man say, clearly annoyed.

"Someone came through, dunno when but sure as shit did, there's a bunch of rotters down in this shit church, a few fresh bloody foot prints but no signs of anyone so far." says an another man clearly annoyed as well.

"Fucking shit, c'mon then, get your useless asses back in the damn trucks! It's gettin' dark."

You catch a glimpse of the scene and it scares you even more than you already were when you realize that there's at least thirteen men right below you, right below the tree you tried to find safety on, and a single tear of panic escapes you.

But, at least, you can put a face, even if you can't see every single details you see enough, on the scruffy, kinda angry sounding, voice echoing carelessly through the woods. He's a white man, probably in his fourties, pretty damn tall and with a mustache that kinda makes him look creepy rather than manly.

ugh, he looks like one of those creeps...

You see him look around as all the men around him obediently get back to their trucks which you imagine have been left on the small dirt road at the entrance of the forest since you can't see any.

"Fucking hell, what the hell am I supposed to tell Negan? Hey boss, someone's out there but we couldn't locate the lil shit?"

Negan? who the hell is Negan? and who's he calling a "lil shit"? rude??

The man finally leaves and you wait until you can't hear the trucks on the road anymore before you finally allow yourself to relax a little bit.

You dry your tears with the back of your shaking hands and carefully climb off the tall tree, letting out a small shaky sigh, holding on tightly to the tree to support yourself since your legs are shaking like leaves in high wind and, after a few seconds, you finally start to walk back towards the small road, carefully sticking your head out of the woods to check if the coast is clear.

When you feel it's safe enough, you slowly come out just to go and kneel on the road to touch the thick tracks the tires left in the dirt. You can't really put your fingers on why but you have a really bad feeling about these men, they didn't seem too friendly to you.

You saw that they were armed head to toe and they clearly had other people waiting on them, like this "Negan" the creepy mustache dude mentioned, he called him "boss" which kinda, just slightly, brings you to assume that he might, maybe, just maybe, be the leader of this group of men, just maybe.

boss? pff, rings any bells [y/n]? i mean, déjà-vu right? first this psycho getting hot for people calling him "governor" now this Negan dude is the "boss"? yeah right and my ass is chicken, choke on it asshole.

You smile slightly at your own thoughts before shaking your head and getting back up.

"Alrighty, guess it's time to go."

go where...?

Where? Also a part of your daily routine, finding your "where" every single night. It's tough living out there in the open twenty-four-seven but you just make do, you always do, always have.

You decide to head back in the small church, careful not to step on any corps lying around before locking yourself up in a small room at the very back of the place. Once inside, you push the heavy wooden desk sitting in the middle of the room against the door and, completely out of breath, you let yourself fall on the very small bed in the left corner of the room.

"What a crappy day, dude." you softly let out before closing your eyes, secretly wishing for some sleep tonight, at least a full hour.






2:15 AM //

"lil shit, stop right now or I swear to fucking god I'll cut your damn throat wide open, shut up! I already told you that's the way it is, stop fucking fighting me, just take it like the useless piece of shit are! Stop fighting it!"

Your eyes snap open, tears threatening to fall out of them like water out of a broken sink, you bite your lips and bury your head in the flat pillow on the bed, your body shaking violently as you let out loud sobs and tears stream down your face to be sucked into the pillow beneath your head, soaking your face with the salty liquid, your lungs opening and closing violently, your heart beating out of your chest and it feels like the room is closing in on you. You start to panic and everything goes black for a few minutes and, brutally, everything comes back to its previous state but it's too late.

You feel a sharp pain in your left forearm and new waves of sobs roll right through you.

"No. No, no, no, no, please, no." you panic as your sobbing gets out of control.

Your forearm is covered in blood, your blood, the whole room smells of it, messy deep cuts covering the skin there, your right hand shaking and your fingers weakly holding into a sharp razor blade which is slightly covered in fresh and dry blood. Thankfully, the blood on it is only yours, not walker's and anyone else's.

it's okay, you know it happens. it's okay.

You hate to admit it but, now, you feel calm, you feel peaceful. Your previous nightmare has been put in a dark corner of your mind with all the others. You let out a shaky breath looking down at your arm and grab your untouched wrist firmly before reaching for your backpack to get some gauze and antiseptic out of it to try and patch yourself up as best as you can giving the circumstances.

Once your done with the bandage, you let your body push back on the mattress until your back hits the hard, rough, wall the bed is pushed up against, since it's lacking an headboard, and let your eyes close just for them to be forced open by loud banging sounds against the door of the small office you found refuge in.

Your instincts take over and, before you know it, you're grabbing your backpack and get a tight grip on your bow, getting in arrow ready to use and you get ready to fight yet again. You take a step back, waiting for the door to give out and for the desk holding it to be pushed away by the dead, bracing yourself.

You can hear them groaning and scratching the door but before you can raise your bow, the plank of wood you took a step back on gives out on one side, swallowing your foot in a tight and sharp hole.

"What the hell?!" you cry out in pain as your right calve sinks into the hole in the wooden floor, your foot touching the dirt ground below the church which is covered by grass and dust, your skin getting little sharp cuts in the process.

great, just great...

The office's door starts to shake more and more so you decide to just "do with what you're given". You grab the broken, or already taken out of place on purpose, fucked if you know, piece of wood and tear it of off the floor expanding the hole to allow you to now slip out of the room easily.

okay.. so, you're under a big ass church, nothing scary right? just casually crawling underneath a fucking church, that's cool, not creepy at all, not a chance this thing is gonna collapse on our ass right? just, casually crawling underneath a fucking building... that's cool.

You shake as your claustrophobia gives you a hard time to grab the wooden plank you tore off to put it back as best as you can in it's place; making sure nothing will end up crawling after you in the tight space, before turning on your tummy to find yourself face to face with the dirty ground.

"Okay, I take it back, this isn't just a crappy day, it's an award winning crappy day." you mumble bitterly as you crawl between the church's floor and the dirty ground laying beneath it and, when you finally see the end of it, it's only to be greeted by muffled groans and gun shots.

You freeze under the church as you see walkers falling right in front of you on the ground, dead and limp, looking right at you, you feel tears filling your [y/e/c] eyes once again today and a pair of brown-ish combat boots make their way towards you.

You want to move away but you're completely stuck there, you can't bring yourself to move, your breath is caught in your throat and, slowly, the person in the pair of boots kneels and brings himself to the ground looking at you with an amused smile on his face, you know you've seen him before but you can recall when.

"Well, what do we have here?" that fucking voice..., "It's quite a situation you're in, uh, darling?" he laughs lowly and you're still right where you stopped a few seconds ago, your body shaking and your eyes watering.

"I-I don't have anything, just let me be, pl-please?"

okay, this was not supposed to come out as a question...

"Yeeah, nah, sorry pretty thing but I just can't do that. Now, how 'bout you come out here so I don't have to drag you to me, uh? How 'bout it? C'mon, be a dear, for me, yeah?" He's amused by the whole thing and it pisses you off and upsets you beyond belief.

Does he really think you're just gonna do whatever he wants? Hell no. Well, at least that's what you thought for a solid minute before his giant hand wrapped itself around your wounded forearm, making you cry out in pain and making blood pour out of your fresh, now re-opened, wounds just to drag you out of your small hiding spot, which you immediately find way more inviting now that you've been forced out of it. You're pushed up on to your feet only to end up facing the tall mustached dude that you've spotted in the woods hours ago.

"Well, I'll be damned! If you aren't the prettiest shit there is out there! Damn, darlin', look at you!"

His words kinda make you sick and you feel like throwing up on his feet but you force yourself to lift your head just to see a whole bunch of dudes standing right behind him, all smiling like idiots, armed head to toe and you're slightly blinded by the lights coming from cars parked all over the place. 

You take a few steps back, at least you try to, but electricity shoots through your right leg as it gives out making you fall at the man's feet, the opened wound on your calve starting to throb and making you cry out yet again.

"Shit. That looks like it hurts like a bitch, don't it, sweetheart?"

"Stop giving me stupid pet names you fucking creep, you wanna kill me? Be my guest, fucking try me."

"Wow! She talks! And what a fucking mouth you got on you, darling." he insists on the last word and that does it, you find the strength to bring yourself up just enough to punch him in the face, fucking up your knuckles in the process.

worth it.

"HEY!" a dude yells from the back coming towards you, making you jump and you try, you really do, to put some distance in between the two of you while you eye the man you just punched.

He's just on the floor, the blow made him lose his balance, holding his now opened jawline. You take a good look at the other man still coming closer and closer to you, he's blonde and..

Shit, what the hell happened to his face? It looks seriously burned on one side and it fascinates and grosses you out at the same time, so much so that you actually stop walking away from him and let him come to you and, once he's close enough, he immediately invades your personal space.

"C'mere you lil' shit." he pulls you close to him, your body touching his, making you twitch which seems to amuse him before putting his mouth really close to your ear whispering to you, "Do not make me hurt you, please, it'll be okay, just do as you're fucking told, princess."

ugh! what's with these dudes and pet names! it's creepy as shit.

And, maybe it's because of the fact that he's so damn close to you and it makes you uncomfortable as fuck and you're willing do to whatever it takes for him to step back, but, when he harshly grabs your forearm, you let him drag you closer to his group only to end up being forced down on your knees.

okay, this is fucking creepy, what the hell?

The man you just punched comes back into view, crouching in front of you, smiling, blood slowly dripping from his fresh wound and, you gotta admit that you kinda feel proud of yourself when you eye the bloody mess that is his jaw.

"Oh, you're gonna get in some serious shit now, darling." he says snapping you out of your contemplation with a mean smile on his face. He gets back up and stroll towards the rusty and bloody RV standing in the middle of the place knocking harshly on the door, "Let's meet the man" He says with the same smile on his face as the door swings open and a tall figure slowly appears.

The said "man" finally comes into view and your breath gets caught in your throat as he slowly walks towards you.

He's tall, lean but clearly muscular, he's wearing a leather jacket, dark denim jeans and a red scarf is hugging his neck, his dark hair are slicked back and he swings, oh so casually, a barbed-wire covered baseball bat around before settling it on his broad shoulder.

Your body is shaking again, you're scared shitless, you're surrounded by a bunch of creepy dudes and it feels like their dad just came by to say hello and it sucks.

"Holy fuckidy fuck! You guys! Look at that fuckin' angel face. Damn, now this I really fucking like! Now that's," he points at you with the head of his bat, making you shift uncomfortably, "the kind of girl you just don't find anymore, you sorry fucks! Fucking look at her, good fucking goddamn!" he kneels in front of you looking straight into your eyes, his bat making contact with your chin and you know it's bleeding as you can feel the wire biting into your skin, tears escaping your eyes yet again and your body shaking from fatigue and terror.

"Aw, don't cry, baby doll." he looks at you with a smirk on the corner of his mouth, "Simon, how about you tell me why the fuck your jaw is wide open? I got a feeling that lil' angel might have something to do with it." his smirk slowly fades as he waits for an answer still looking at you, clearly waiting for you to look back at him, which you don't, your eyes are firmly pinned on the ground.

"Well, this pretty lil' creature here seems to be a bit of a trouble maker, boss." you almost scoff at that, "She was underneath the damn church, looking like a scared, lost, lil' puppy and she got a lil' grumpy on me when I got her out of her hole." this time, you do scoff and clench your jaw as he compares you to a damn puppy, hearing the smile in his voice pissing you off beyond belief.

You hear the man in front you laugh lowly and that's a dangerous laughter if ever you've heard one, "Shit! I like my girls with some fight in them darlin', but-" he harshly grabs your face with a glove covered hand making wince in pain at his unnecessarily tight grip, "I can't let you punch the shit out of one of my men and let it go unpunished, you understand that, right, baby doll?"

"I- I don't- He-" you curse yourself for not being able to form a damn sentence in front of these men knowing fully well that they're getting off on you being afraid and vulnerable in front of them.

"Now kitten, no need to be nervous even though I do understand why you would be. I mean, shit, that's a lot o'people around you and you have absolutely no where to fucking run to, but! No one is going to hurt ya as long as you're good, now, are you gonna be a good girl for me or not?"


"Yes what, sweet pie?"

"I-I'll b-behave."

"Nice! Now that's progress! That's the kind of shit that makes my dick twitch in my pants, y'know?"

You feel like you're about the throw up, you feel so embarrassed and you hate this man with every fiber of your being already.

"Okay, now! Time for a little talk doll, first of all, do you have a small clue as to who I am?"

Yes, of course you do, you've put two and two together the moment he stepped into view, he's the man that Simon dude referred as his "boss".

"You're Negan, aren't you?"

"Girl, I'm getting more and more into you with each passing seconds." he smiles and gets back on his feet before pacing around in long strolls in front of you, "I, indeed, am Negan, darlin', and, from now on; everything you own is mine-" he pauses and points at you with the end of his bat which is covered in dried blood "And so are you baby doll"

It's cold out, you're shaking, your head is spinning and you feel like you're about to pass out.

Your body aches and begs for some care as the tears filling your eyes once again threaten to roll down your face. You feel lost, alone, and scared and you don't even have time to process what's happening to you as your brain shuts down to cool you off, everything goes to black and you feel yourself slipping away to fall on the cold hard ground beneath you, not being able to keep yourself up anymore.

God knows you've tried.

Chapter Text

Your eyes slowly open, painfully trying to adjust to the sunlight shinning in them, you feel oddly comfortable and you slowly move your body to sit and realize that you're on a bed, the most comfortable bed you've been on in a while, you look around and you feel lost and small.

where the hell...

You're in a small room with medical equipment, the walls are painted white and there's only a few little decorations to bright the room up a small bit, where the hell are you?

A gentle knock on the door of the small room you're in, which you now realize is a small individual installation, snaps you out of your confusion.


The door slowly creaks open and a head pops out from behind it, smiling at you, not the same kind of smile those creeps in the woods gave you, no, this one is sincere and filled with genuine concern.

"Hello there, I'm doctor Carson, I took take care of you last night. You probably don't remember me though, you were in a really bad shape."

"W-where are they? Are you one of them? Where the hell am I!" You start to freak out, as memories of the night before come running back to you, the sharp pain coursing through your body, the tears you've shed, the fear eating you alive, those fucking creeps...

The doctor closes the door and rushes towards you slowly reaching to grab one of your hands in a gentle, almost hesitant at first, but firm grip.

"It's okay, you're okay, I promise. You're at Hilltop, we're a small community, Negan brought you to me really late last night. Like I said, you've lost a lot of blood and your body is suffering from serious injuries."

"Negan? Where is he? Is he still here? Is he gonna come back? I don't want him to come back, I don't- I can't!" panic begins to wash over your body and you feel your heartbeat getting out of control, your breathing quickening worryingly so.

"Shh, honey, listen to me," he says as he gently puts his hand on the left side of your face making you look at him, "nothing will happen to you alright? Now, listen carefully, you're welcome to stay here, with us, as long as you need to, okay? You can be a part of the community even if, I gotta tell you, it's kinda dysfunctional at times." he says with a small laugh in a failed attempt to make you smile, you give him a weak smile but your eyes are filled with tears still, "Do you- Do you mind giving me your name? Mine is Harlan, most people around just call me Doc, though."

"I- [Y/n], my name's [y/n]." you say nodding your head as if you're not even that sure about your own name anymore.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you [y/n], Jesus is gonna come by in a few minutes to give you some fresh clothes and he'll give you a tour if you want. Just don't be afraid to talk to him, he's a complete sweetheart."

jesus? what kind of name is that?

"O-okay... A-are you- are you gonna stay with me?"

"No, honey, I have a few things to do and I think that a nice warm shower will help you relax for a bit, yeah?"

"Warm- Wait, you- you guys have hot water?"

"Yes, we do." he says looking at you with a big smile on his face, happy to see that the mention of warm water made your day slightly better.

"W-wow, and- like... I can use it?" you ask hesitantly, your head down, fingers nervously playing with the sheets covering your body.

"Yes, of course. Go right ahead, take your time, honey. I'll come back to check on you tonight, is that okay?"

"S-sure, thank you."

"Don't mention it, it's my pleasure, really."

He leaves the room, slowly closing the door and you wait for it to click shut before jumping out of the bed you're in, petrified when you see that your legs are completely bare.

okay, so, correct me if i'm wrong but, i'm pretty sure i had pants on yesterdaaay?? noooo?? mayyybe? whaat?

You shove everything aside when you come face to face with a tall mirror.

fucking shit...

Your lower body is covered in bruises, scratches and dried blood... Okay, more or less dry. You can see stitches on your right calve and the pain you felt last night comes back on your mind, that is one mean looking wound.

"Dude..." you whisper to your reflection and slowly build up the courage to raise the loose shirt hanging over your quivering frame just to see the damages done to the upper part of your body only to gasp in shock when you see your tummy covered in nasty looking, blue-green and purple-ish bruises which are covering the soft skin of your belly and your ribs, a few cuts here and there as well, you take your shirt off completely feeling safe in the room since all the windows are way too high and small for anyone to see what's going on inside.

You bring your old, worn out and way too big t-shirt to your chest hugging it tightly, hiding your face in it. 

i used to love this shirt, it's all messed up now.

The piece of cotton is covered in blood and is ripped up at some places.

"Dad... What do I do? I'm so scared." you whisper into the soft fabric before letting out a loud, heavy sigh.

You drop the shirt on the bed you were previously in and look around the room, quickly finding what you assume to be the bathroom. You slowly move towards the tiny room and push the door open with your fingertips, part of you clearly on the look out for anything that could jump out at you.

habits man...

You shrug off the small rush of adrenaline that shot through your body when you made your way in the bathroom before locking the door and slowly getting rid of your bra and panties. You then slowly make your way to the glass door of the shower stranding in the corner of the room but, before entering it, you go and grab one of the towels sitting on the small dresser next to the sink and quickly cover the small mirror standing above it.

i don't need to see more of this shit.

You let out a deep breath and head back towards the shower, slowly opening the glass door and reaching for the knob marked with a red dot, slowly twisting it around and waiting for the water to pour out. You get your hand out quickly when you catch a glimpse of a razor standing next the other towels on the dresser and you quickly walk over to grab it.

glad to see i still have my priorities straight.

You quickly get in the shower, closing the door behind you and gasp happily when the warm water hits your sore and aching body, a laugh slipping out of your mouth.

"Oh my God, I'm staying in here- Forever."

You start washing your body, scrubbing gently on your wounds, careful not to re-open any of them, you wash your hair and let the water run down your body as you start shaving your legs, armpits and finish with your most intimate parts.

Once you drag yourself out of the warm paradise you were in, you feel amazing and... clean. Awfully clean.

ugh, what's wrong with you! who has a problem with getting dried blood and guts washed off their body!

Your thoughts are cut short when you hear someone knocking on the door of the bathroom.

"I don't mean to interrupt, I just brought you your clothes, put them on your bed. I'm Paul by the way."

A man says through the door, you start to panic when you realize that you're completely naked and there's no way in hell you're getting out there with only a towel wrapped around your body.

"Uh, I- uh, I'm not r-really wearing any-anything so..."

"Oh, yeah, okay, I'll wait outside, knock on the door when you're done, alright?"

"Y-yeah, okay, thank you."

"No need to thank me, [y/n], I'm not gonna force you to come out in your birthday suit. No worries!"

You smile at the attention and wait for him to leave before slowly unlocking the bathroom door when you hear the main door click shut, peeping your head out to make sure that he's gone.

You come out of the bathroom and walk to the bed where there's clothes waiting for you, you pick them up and look at them, inspecting them; you first put the set of baby pink underwear sitting on the mattress and you actually really like them on you, there's also a large ripped denim jean that you put on with no problem and roll multiple times at the bottom for it to fit the length of your legs, a loose AC/DC black shirt which is also too big for you so you shove a bit of it in the waistband of your jeans and you swiftly put a pair of plain black socks on before slipping your black combat boots on and you slowly make your way to the door, softly knocking on it signaling for Paul, whoever the fuck that is, that it's okay for him to come back in.

He slowly opens the door, his eyes shut, "You're decent?"

"Y-yes, thank you for- well, you know, for the clothes and- for waiting outside."

"Like I said, no problem at all." he says while coming in and closing the door behind him as he steps in he takes a look at you, smiling shyly while scratching his beard. "Sorry 'bout the clothes, these used to be mine so, yeah... They're way too big for you." he says with a small laugh, not making fun of you, just liking how cute you look, you blush and tug at the black t-shirt nervously and he notices immediately, "Hey, I didn't mean to make fun, you look ridiculously good in those, they never looked good on me, I'm kinda jealous if I'm being honest here."

You let out a small laugh and look up at him, looking closely at his face, he has blue eyes, long dirty blond hair and one hell of a beard.

"I'm Paul by the way, people here call me Jesus though." he gives you his hand for you to shake but just look at him in amusement.

"J-jesus? Really?" you burst out laughing, holding your sides, your body aching from the vibrations of your laughter but you just can't stop, "Freaking hell- it hurts so bad!"

"Yeah well, that'll teach you to make fun of me, young lady." he says clearly amused as well, your laugh contagious as he starts to laugh along with you.

You can't remember the last time you cracked a sincere, genuine laugh but now, even though everything hurts, you can't bring yourself to care. You eventually calm down and sit back on the bed, Jesus sitting in a chair in front of you, careful not to invade your personal space.

"Damn," he whispers "I can't remember the last time I laughed like that, your laugh is contagious-" he looks at you waiting for you to tell him your name but you know that he already knows what it is, hell, he used it a few minutes ago when he spoke to you through the bathroom door.

"[Y/n], I'm [y/n], you already know that though, so, why ask?"

"Habit I guess."

"Habits suck." you said lowly, more to yourself than to him.

After that, an oddly comfortable silence settles between the two of you but it's cut short by a loud, obnoxious knock on your door making you jump out of your skin while Jesus only sighs deeply, clearly knowing what's behind the door.


"That's Negan, [y/n]."

"W-what? No, I- I don't want to see that guy, please!"

He slowly rises on his feet and walk towards you, kneeling down a bit to be able to look you in the eyes.

"Hey, now." his voice is soft and reassuring but the banging on the door is the complete opposite, "Listen to me, [y/n], nothing will happen to you, I promise. He can't move you anyways, your body is too weak. So, for now, you're here, no questions asked, he knows, just-"

"Open the motherfucking door, you prick." a loud obnoxious voice orders from the other side of the metal door making Jesus sigh in defeat, he caresses your face with his right thumb and promises you that everything will be okay before walking towards the door, unlocking it, your heart beating out of your chest and you feel like you're about to throw it up.

Negan's tall frame appears in the small room completely claiming it as his own without even trying and he flashes you a smile, sending the worst kind of shivers down your spine.

"Get out." he firmly orders to Jesus without breaking eye contact with you and he obeys and walks out, looking at you one last time which doesn't go unnoticed by Negan and you can see his jaw clench as he shoves Jesus out with so much force, it's a miracle that he didn't fall flat on his face. 

fucking hell...

"Well, good morning, beautiful. It's a wonderful fucking day ain't it, angel face?" He says before slamming the door shut and you don't answer knowing that he's not waiting for one, at least you don't think he is. He furrows his eyebrows and walks up to you to sit right beside you on the bed making the mattress dip underneath his weight and the sudden dip shoves you to the side a small bit, making him laugh, "How'd you sleep darlin'? You scared the fuck outta me last night y'know that? Not cool, dolly."

You feel your body starting to shake once again and you keep avoiding his gaze because you know you won't be able to hold it for more than one small second. You feel him get even closer to you, your breath getting stuck in your throat, your lungs violently closing, keeping you from breathing.

"That shit on your arm?" you look all around you, avoiding any kind of contact with the man sitting right beside you, way too close for comfort.

Tears are slowly making their way to your eyes, your shaky fingers are nervously playing with your hair, pulling at them and swirling them around. You can feel him getting impatient next to you and it makes you even more nervous, "Look at me when I'm talking to you, doll."

You don't, you can't, you don't want to. But he doesn't seem to give a shit, what Negan wants, Negan gets.

He grabs your face and forces you to look right at him, tightening his grip on you to keep you from looking away, "I don't want to see any more of this shit, am I fucking clear?" he says firmly, talking about the self-inflicted cuts on your left forearm.

"C-crystal cl-"

You can't finish your sentence as your tummy shakes violently and you can't hold your tears in anymore, you just fall apart right in front of him, yet again. His hand doesn't leave your jaw, you just feel his thumb wiping some of your tears away and you can hear him lowly hushing you.

"Now, now, baby girl, why're you crying?"

"I- I don't- I just-" you can't talk through your violent sobs and you start to shake some more, you close your eyes to try and keep him out of your sight since he's still holding your face up to his.

"Fucking hell, princess, you're such a fuckin' mess."

His words might have sound harmless to him but they didn't to you and you can feel yourself starting to shut everything out and your body starting to curl in an attempt to get out of Negan's grip and away from him. He seems to understand that his words wounded you and smiles down at you.

"Shit, darlin', I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, y'know. Damn, I actually like to see you fall apart in front of me like that, kinda pets my ego."

can't you just fucking apologize, you prick?

"Where's my backpack?" you spit through gritted teeth, grabbing the opportunity to turn the conversation around, he's seriously starting to piss you off with his attitude, you don't even know him, who the fuck does he think he is?

He slowly gets closer to you, his nose now touching yours, "Didn't you fucking hear me last night? I own your shit, your backpack? It's fucking mine to do with as I fucking please now."

"No, that's not fucking fair!" you get out of his grip and get off the bed, trying to stand your grounds but when he stands to follow you back on his feet, you feel like his frame is crushing you and the closer he comes the smaller you feel. Eventually you're stopped by a wall and you curse out loud making him laugh as he cages you in with his arms pressed against both sides of your face and his upper body touching yours.

"Why do I feel like you're holding out on me, baby doll?" 

You look at him curiously.

what does he mean by that?

He laughs lowly, just like last night, it kinda scares you and, even though you try to hide it from him, he knows, "I've seen the fucking massacre you've made back at the church, your go to weapon is a fucking knife and, goddamn, you fucking exploded my right-hand man's jaw, sweetheart." he grins showing off his pearly whites before leaning even closer to you his nose once again bumping into yours, "You're just a fucking adorable killing machine aren't you? And I'm willing to bet that, right now, you're trying to figure out a way to fucking kill me, aren't you, sweet thing?"

You scoff and look him dead in the eyes, "If I wanted to kill you, I would. Hell, I could kill you right now if I wanted to, all I'd have to do is sink my teeth into your jugular and you'd bleed out in a matter of seconds, Negan."

He smiles and drags his tongue out across his bottom lip, "Damn, I really fucking like the way my name rolls off your tongue, baby doll."

Your eyes drop again and you feel your face heating up in pure anger and frustration, talking to this man is like talking to a damn wall.

nah, the wall can't fucking talk back and walls aren't so full of shit.

He backs off of you a small bit but not enough for you to feel comfortable and you quickly understand that that's exactly what he wants, for you to feel small.

Part of you can't stand it anymore and it takes over quickly, making you spit right on his face before you can even think about the consequences of such actions. You see his jaw clench and his smile fading dangerously slowly.

Scared, you try to push yourself further again the wall he has you trapped against, trying desperately to create some distance between the two of you, "That's fucking it, you've fucking done it this time. You think you can just fucking spit on my goddamn face and I'll just laugh it off? Hell no, this shit will not fucking fly with me, doll."

Negan forcefully grabs your body with his huge hands making you jump backward, trying to push him off but he easily hoists you up on his shoulder, walking towards the small bed in the room before dropping you on it and storming out of the room, locking the door behind him, making sure you won't be able to get out.  

what now? is he just gonna keep me locked up in this room?

You jump when you hear the door opening and being slammed shut as he comes back in the room locking the door behind him once again, you start to shake when you see that he's holding his baseball bat in his single gloved hand.

You try to drag yourself back into the bed, trying to put as much distance as you possibly can between the two of you but he's quick to grab your ankles and drag you back to the edge of the bed, your body colliding into his as he smiles down at you.

"Well, hi there." he gives you a small wink before raising his bat right in front of your face, smiling wickedly, "This is Lucille and she's fucking awesome"

You can't help but try and get away from him once again, pushing against his chest but he's not moving, he just grabs your body tightly and flips you over on your belly and you start to panic as tears roll down your face, awful memories coming back to you, making you sick.

"Hush now darling, I'm not a fucking monster, I don't do that." he insists on his last word making it clear to you that is talking about the one thing you fear the most; rape, "But, you've been a bad fucking girl sweetpie and I can't have that."

"But- Y-you were being mea-"

"Oh, I know princess, daddy fucked up too and I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, but now, daddy's gotta make sure that his little girl doesn't pull this shit ever again, yeah? 'Cause, you see, here's the thing darling; you're mine, all fucking mine, you fucking belong to me and I will not have you acting up and fighting me off, sweetheart."

well shit, fuck you too, ya freaky dick.

You're about to protest but the feeling of your denim jeans sliding down your thighs shuts you up and you start to cry some more. You're exhausted and you know that you can't fight him off, you know that whatever he decides to do, he'll be able to do it because you just can't stop him, you don't have the strength to anymore.

"Relax, sweetheart, I'm even gonna be super nice and let you keep your panties on, this time. I'm too fucking nice sometimes, aren't I? How about a thank you? What d'you think? I think that's in order to be honest, I totally deserve a thank you."

You swallow your pride and muffle a thank you into the mattress, you don't want to look at him, this is so embarrassing. 

"Nah, see, that just won't do it, dolly, I'm gonna need you to speak the fuck up. C'mon, I know you can do it, you're a smart girl."

You turn your head slightly to the side, your eyes tightly closed as you speak up, "T-thank you, Negan." your voice is low, wrecked from the fatigue and full of sadness and embarrassment.

You feel your face turn red once again when you hear him laugh lowly and feel his body crushing yours, his mouth landind right next to your ear.

does this man know about personal space?

"Why, you're welcome, baby girl." you can hear and feel him smile and you know that if you had anything in your stomach you would be throwing it up right now, "Alright! Now, my favorite part." you hear him shuffling around behind you and you can feel his eyes burning into your skin, "Good God, princess, you got an ass that'll drive any man to insanity. I've never been so fucking tempted to touch a woman's body like I am right now. But, hey, I'm a reasonable man so I won't touch if you don't want me to and I know you don't fucking want me to right now." his voice drops to a lower tone, "But that's okay, I know you'll come around soon enough."

You feel like screaming and stabbing him in the face, his stupid face, as his words fuel your anger but you quickly feel said anger dropping when you feel the cold, sharp, wires covering his bat cutting into the soft skin of your round butt.

"Pl-please don't, Negan- Please"

"It'll be quick, darlin', you just hold still for me. You can cry if you want but I want you to count every single one of 'em, you got that?"


He laughs and press his bat harder into your skin making you wince in discomfort, "Didn't quite catch that, baby girl, come again?"

You cry out in frustration, you're not getting out of this one and you know it. You swallow your pride and nod, burying your face into the mattress trying to brace yourself for the first blow but nothing could have prepared you for the pain that shot through you as "Lucille" came down on the left butt cheek.


You hear him groan and the blows just keep coming one right after the other, going from one cheek to the other. Your butt is covered in blood and small, sharp, clean cuts by the time his bat comes down on it a tenth and final time, your body arching away from him.

"T-ten, that's ten! Please, I-I can't, Negan, it hurts" At this point you're crying hot tears into the bed's sheets and you feel blood soaking your panties and running down your legs and inner thighs.

Your body shakes violently when a cold piece of soft cloth comes down on your bum to wipe away the blood and clean the fresh cuts.

"There you go, darlin', good fucking God, you took it like such a good girl, princess. M'so proud of you, didn't even flinch. Are you mad at me, doll?"

You just shake your head no into the mattress, lying. Of course you're fucking mad, he just humiliated you and it hurts so bad, your body is on fire. You hear him groan again and you're not really sure what to make of that sound.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I'll be fucking damned, your panties are soaking wet, darlin', and it ain't blood that's for fucking sure."

"W-what?" you asked, genuinely not understanding what he means or what he's talking about.

He chuckles as he realizes that you actually might not have a damn clue as to what being turned on even feels like before he turns you around slowly bringing your jeans back on your legs covering your upper body, finally. Even though the rough denim hurts against your fresh wounds, you're relieved to be fully clothed again.

His eyes bore into yours as he sits you up on the bed, your legs hanging off the edge, and you feel yourself blushing again, "Are you gonna behave from now on, baby doll?"

"Y-yes, Negan."

"Good girl, see? A little bit of cooperation and everything's as smooth as your ass for daddy, darlin'."

And, just like that, he makes you feel small and helpless once again, "Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"

He furrows his eyebrows and kisses your forehead in such an oddly gentle way that it makes your eyes flutter shut without you even realizing it.

"Darling, I'm not about to throw away the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my fucking eyes on, that's just not happening."

He slowly lifts you up and brings you in his arms and you let him, you don't want to fight him anymore, you just don't have enough energy left to waste it on such a futile thing.

You even bury your face into his red scarf hiding away from him as you feel blood creeping on your cheeks. He just called you beautiful, no one ever said that to you before, at least not without wanting something from you. You feel his chest vibrating as he speaks up.

"We gotta talk, baby doll."

You keep your head buried in his scarf as you quietly wait for him to keep talking but he clearly wants to see and hear you so he sits you back down on the bed and a gasp escapes your mouth as pain shoots through your body and he lowers himself down in front of you, "We gotta talk about your options."

"M-my options?"

"Yeah, sweet thing. Listen, you can either work for me back at the Sanctuary and earn yourself points to buy you some shit to live with and all that crap or" he pauses and gives you a smile that only makes you uncomfortable. You know he's about to propose something you're not gonna like, you can just tell by the look on his face, "Or you could become one of my wives, you don't have to work for shit, you just have to be loyal to me and I give you everything you need and you also give me what I want from time to t-"

"No" you cut him, your body starting to shake once again, you feel disgusted.

he has a fucking harem? what in the actual fuck?

"Now, darlin', before you make any de-"

"I said no, I'm not doing that, I'm not yours, I never will be. I'm not working for you either, fuck you, Negan. Who the fuck do you think you are!"

He gives you a low laugh that would normally scare you but right now you don't feel anything but anger and disgust towards him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, doll, sleep tight"

He kisses your forehead once again but it's different this time, this time you tense up and you quickly pull your body away from his lips only for him to laugh and slowly leave the room, whistling and swinging Lucille around, leaving you a complete mess.

And, just like that, you're crying again.

Chapter Text


You pace around the small bedroom, feeling confined and trapped in it. It's driving you insane, you take a deep breath and harshly grab the old worn out t-shirt you had on yesterday off the bed to tug it between your skin and the waistband of your jeans before pulling your hair up in a messy bun getting ready to go.

You then tear a small piece of paper off doctor Carson's clipboard to write him a small thank you note before you leave, that's the least you can do after he took care of you and was so damn nice to you.

You look around one last time and finally walk towards the door to exit the place, careful to close it behind you, before sneaking out to the back of the big mansion sitting in the middle of the small village to get to the far side of the wall, hidden from everyone, but you let out a frustrated sigh as you realize just how tall the wall standing in front of you actually is.

"How on Earth am I supposed get over this stupid wall."

"Well, you're not supposed to be able to. Y'know, that's like, the whole point of the operation here." Jesus' voice makes you jump out of your boots and you slowly turn around to face him, he's wearing a sad smile on his face and you feel horrible.

"Jesus- Look- Shoot, look, I didn't mean to bail on you but I- I need to get out of here, okay?"

"Why? Where are you gonna go? I mean, shit, you want to get over this wall? Fine, I'll help you up, I'm not about to force you to stay here if you have a problem with that but, just, tell me... Tell me you'll be safe out there."

"I-I can't, you know I can't but- I just- I can't stay here okay? I'm not c-comfortable around people anymore." you admit looking down at your boots suddenly finding great interest in them while pulling nervously on your still shaking fingers.

You hear Jesus let out an heavy sigh and immediately feel his huge arms wrap themselves around your body, pulling you to him and kissing the top of your head.

"I'll kill you if you die out there [y/n], just so you know." You giggle sadly into his chest, giving him a slight squeeze before slowly letting go of him and raising on your tiptoes to shyly kiss his cheek before looking down again, "Wait for me here, okay? I'll be right back, just, promise me you'll be here when I'll come back."

"F'course." you promise with a small smile as he runs off to God knows where, leaving you here to think about how much you're gonna miss him when you don't even know him that well.

this sucks...

You hear quick footsteps rushing towards you and you see Jesus walking your way with a smile on his face, happy to see that you're still here, waiting for him like you promised. One of his hand hidden behind his back tickling your curiosity.

"What'cha got there?" you ask curiously, trying to see what's behind his back.

"Something of yours." he says with a huge sincere smile, excited to see your reaction, as he pulls out your denim backpack from behind his back, your bow sticking out of it, waiting for you to come fetch it which you quickly do. You grab it and hug it close to you, sighing happily.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! But wh-"

"I had a feeling this day'll come eventually, just- not so soon I guess."

"How did y-"

"Stole it from one of Negan's truck, I'm sneaky like that."

Your smile quickly fades when you realize that he could get in serious trouble for this, "Jesus, no, I can't take it back, you- what if he finds out? What's he gonna do to you? Are you fucking insane? What were you thi-"

"Shh, hey, calm down. Yeah, he'll probably figure it out but I'll be okay, I promise you that. No need to worry about me, you clearly have enough on your mind as it is. Now, c'mon, come here and let me give you a boost."

He bends down a small bit, lacing his fingers together and signals for you to climb on, so you do. He boosts you up high enough for you to grab the edge of the tall wall, once you get a firm grip on it, you use your arms to push yourself up the rest of the way and steadily straddle the wall putting one leg over it, stopping to look down at Jesus to mouth him a thank you, getting a smile from him, before swiftly throwing your other leg over the fence now close to leaving the small safe zone.

You look down and let out a shaky breath before quickly pushing yourself to jump off the high wall, crying out in pain when you fall on your ground. Your body throbbing in pain, your wounds not healed at all, and you're pretty sure you felt something rip open.

"[Y/n], are you okay?" Jesus asks through the thick wall.

no, i'm not, it hurts like a fucking bitch.

"Yup, I'm okay. I'm okay."

"Fucking hell, don't make me regret this. Please, take care of yourself, [y/n]."

"I promise." you're about to burst into tears, the idea of leaving Jesus behind tucking at your heart strings, but you decide to start moving instead of letting your sadness overwhelm you again.

yeah, you cried enough today to cover the last two years ahead of us.

You head towards a small dirt road heading into a small forest nearby, putting your backpack back on your shoulders before sliding your bow and arrows out of it, keeping them firmly in your hand, ready for use.

You walk into the deepest part of the forest, trying to find a small spot to settle in for the rest of the night and eat something.

You end up settling in an hollow tree trunk, you easily get yourself in the little foyer before putting your backpack between your legs, opening it to check if you still had your candy bars in it and you have to stop a surprised and shocked gasp from leaving your mouth when you see that it's been fill to the brim with all types of things.

fucking hell Jesus, what's your problem?

You spot a small note sitting above everything else so you grab it expecting a fucking explanation for all this.

It reads; 

Well, if you're reading this it either means that you decided to join us and I seriously hope that we're best friends by now or it means that you took the way I kinda didn't want you to take and you tried to sneak out on me, it's okay, we're cool, I promise.

I know you have your reasons if you decided to leave, no judgments here.

I just hope that, wherever you are now, you're safe and as comfortable as possible.

It sucks that you didn't stick around but, like I said, I understand. You're a smart girl, you're strong, I'm a hundred percent sure that you're out there kicking asses already and I'm really proud of you.

I can't believe how much I got attached to you only after ten minutes of conversation, you're incredibly smart and seriously strong, like, it feels like nothing and no one can kill you but you, at least that's the vibe you give out.

Anyways- Shit, there you are sneaking around Gregory's house in the middle of the night, hi!

Good luck out there [y/n], go get 'em girl, I have so much faith in you and remember; you're always welcome here.

Now, if you'll excuse, I'm about to sneak up on you while you try to sneak out on me.

- Jesus.

PS: I can already hear you laughing at the fact that I signed Jesus instead of Paul. 

You bring the piece of paper close to your chest before taking in a deep breath and letting out a small laugh, a single tear rolling down your face.

he saw you out there while he was writing this letter...

It's insane how fast you can get attached to people even after everything you've been through, you just can't help it, that's who you are and it probably will never go away.

You slowly fold Jesus' letter and slide it in your jeans' pocket before looking back at your backpack. You dive in, looking at everything he stuffed in there and you see that the gauze, antiseptic product, the two bottles of water, your candy bars, your Gameboy and your butterfly knife are still here but now there's also a soft, fuzzy, black blanket that you immediately wrap yourself in inside the backpack as well as a bunch of medical supplies, a watch and a map with a small circle around a specific area reading: HILLTOP.

You smile before wrapping your new watch around your right wrist and examine it.

finally, a working watch.

You also realize that he must have throw away the small, thick, razor blade that you used to keep hidden in a small pocket of the bag and you see another piece of paper sitting in it instead of the sharp blade and this one reads;

you deserve so much better [y/n], there's already so many things out there, looking for ways to hurt you.

you're the most lovable person walking this Earth don't you ever forget that, screw being modest go tell everyone what's what.

He didn't sign this one but you recognize his hand writing and you just feel so overwhelmed, you don't know what to do anymore, you want to run back to him and tell him how thankful you are that you got to meet him but you know you can't, you just hope he knows.

After a few minutes of being a complete mess of emotions, you hear loud groans echoing through the small forest.

"Can I catch a break?" you whisper angrily as you slowly stand up, shoving the warm blanket off of your body to stuff it back into your backpack. You then grab your bow and start walking again, tired, your body aching and your head spinning from all the information it just received.






4:15 AM:


Finally out of the forest, you're now on a big road, your surroundings clearer and you quickly spot the sign of an old Dinner down the road.

might be worth checking out.

You head towards the old installation ignoring a few walkers on the way there but you have to shoot three of them with your bow to clear the entrance of the Dinner. You pull your arrows out of their putrefied faces before going in, closing the doors behind you and blocking them with an heavy table, your body aching at the effort.

You then call out loudly to get whatever might be in the building to come out but, after a few minutes of pure stress, waiting in silence, your ears perked up; nothing. You relax a little and slowly put down your bow, keeping a firm grip on it, and you let yourself fall on a torn sofa sitting on a corner of the small restaurant, sighing deeply and scanning the place with curious eyes until feel your lids getting heavier and heavier before you finally fall asleep, your body falling on the soft couch, your breathing slowly getting heavier.






8:30 am / Hilltop:


"Alright, I'm gonna ask you one more fucking time doc and I want a good fucking answer this time. Here it goes; where in the fuck is she?"

"I-I told, I- I don't know Negan, her note was the only thing here this morning when I came to check on her, I swear."

Negan lets out a menacing laugh, slightly leaning his body backwards before punching the helpless man in front of him for the fourth time this morning, ordering his men to let go of him afterwards, letting the man's limp body fall unconscious on the floor but Negan pays no mind to him, he gets out of the room to angrily walk towards his next potential victims waiting for him down on their knees.

He smiles once he faces the people kneeling in front of him, they all look so scared, he feeds on that crap, "Alrighty! Nothing personal here folks but, yeah, actually it is pretty fucking personal. " he says to them but look directly at Jesus before walking menacingly towards him, "Where is she Paul? C'mon, be a buddy and I swear and I won't bash your skull in for taking her backpack from my goddamn hands."

"You did something to her, didn't you?"

"Ex-fucking-cuse me? I'm wounded by your accusations, I would never do such a thing." he says with a sarcastic smile but still meaning his words.

"She was scared of something and you've spend the whole afternoon with her, you really expect me to believe you actually had a real conversation with her?"

Clearly amused but also pissed, Negan harshly grabs Jesus by the collar of his shirt just to drag him in the infirmary you were in a few hours ago before closing the door behind them.

"Sit the fuck down, kid." he orders to Jesus while grabbing a chair to sit as well.

Paul carefully grabs a chair, petrified when he spots doctor Carson laying on the floor, his face bloody and swollen, unconscious. His expression clearly amuses Negan as the man lets out a small laugh.

"He'll be fine, now, sit down before I fucking make you." he waits for the younger man to sit down in front of him, swinging his baseball bat around nonchalantly, silently telling Jesus to behave, "You really thought I wouldn't put two and fucking two together? Her backpack disappears from my truck and you seriously thought I wouldn't come back to kick your ass, kid? No, it doesn't work like that. I'm seriously pissed. That shit is really fucking uncool."

"That's all she had, she's earned to keep it." Jesus slowly and carefully responds, looking Negan in the eyes, trying to keep a small amount of control on the situation.

"Yeah, you're fucking right kiddo, but I really fucking needed this damn bag."

"Why? You people have everything you need, one more backpack won't change a thing."

"You really don't fucking get it, do ya? I would have offer her the damn backpack if she took my lil' invite to join me at the Sanctuary, you stupid fuck."

"What the hell is wrong with you! Fucking hell! You scared her away, you're the reason she left. You must have creep her out with your harem bullshit, how in the holy fuck could you even believe for a damn second that she would accept that!? You've got issues, man. She deserves better than the shit you have to give her, I get why she left in such a hurry now." 

For some reason Negan gets set off when Jesus calls him out on the fact that you, indeed, do deserve better. He gets up from his chair and gets dangerously close to him, slowly raising Lucille.

"Listen here, shithead, not only did you take from me, helped one of my girls to run the fuck away and she could be anywhere by now, she could be fucking hurt, and now you're talking back at me? You got a death wish, dumb ass?"

"See, that's the thing, you're convinced that she needs help, that she might not make it on her own, but she's strong, stronger than you will ever be Negan. She's not coward, she's smart and it only took me a day with her to figure that out. She doesn't need you or anyone else. What do you want to know? I helped her get over the damn wall, gave her her stuff back and gave her supplies, that's it, she just vanished after that. She didn't know where to go either, or, at least that's what I understood."

"Which side of the fucking wall, Jesus?" Negan asks through gritted teeth, clearly getting impatient.

Jesus only shook his head no which only led Negan to angrily punch the young man in the cheek before storming out of the room ordering his men to check the area outside of the safe zone while he orders Simon to stay with a few men to collect supplies as he gets into his own truck before driving away from the place.

"Stupid fucking kid." he spits bitterly as he looks around whilst driving, looking for you.






8:00 PM;

He's spent the whole damn day driving around and using fuel but it's all worth it when he spots a dim light shinning through an old Dinner's windows. He parks his struck for the thousandth time today and he knows that he's gonna lose his shit if this turns out to be another dead end.

Killing the engine of the truck, he steps out of it an slowly gets closer to the building, Lucille in his gloved hand. He tries to get close enough to be able to look through the windows but he trips on something and almost fall, making him groan in frustration and anger.

Turning around, his grip on his bat tightens, ready the bash whatever tripped him but he freezes and smiles when he spots three limp bodies lying on the ground, one clean entry point on each head, right between the eyes, "Thatta girl." he grins, putting aside the fact that he's supposed to be mad at you for a second, taking his time to admire your clean work before walking around the building knowing damn well that you'll probably just run away again if you spot him.

He breaks through a broken window, pissed that you didn't block or secure it, which lands him into a small office before silently opening the door and pushing it open, only to be greeted by the sharp end of one of your arrows, aiming for his forehead, right between his eyes.

"You're really loud, y'know?" you say to him, talking to him with confidence for the very first time ever since you two met.

"Shit, I'm usually the one sayin' that, darling." he gently laughs, careful not to trigger you into letting your arrow slide from your fingertips.

"W-what? Why d'you say that?" you tilt your head curiously to the side, slowly lowering your bow in confusion.

You look so lost and he gets off on how innocent you actually are, not getting any of his overly sexual jokes, "Never mind, doll, c'mon, we're going-"

"No, I'm not going anywhere with you, Negan." you answer really calmly which clearly pisses him off.

You can see his body tensing as he examines you, spotting fresh blood on your clothes, he quickly understands that the wound on your calve re-opened and he loses it, "This is not a fucking discussion, I'm bringing you back with me and that's that. Fucking hell! You're really fuckin' stupid, you know that? What the hell came over you to just run away when you can't even fucking stand straight, for fuck's sake!"

You take a small step back, hurt by the fact that he seriously thinks that you can't overcome a few wounds. You slowly lower your weapon some more and let it hang loosely in your right hand before walking away from Negan to go back in the comfort of the small fire you've started in an old bin of the restaurant.

You can feel his gaze burning holes into your back but you try to ignore it and just go sit on the big brown sofa you fell asleep on earlier that day, putting your hands up above the warm fire burning in front of you and letting your bow rest at your feet, keeping in in arm-reach by habit.

You slowly tap the empty spot beside you, silently inviting Negan to sit next to you and, to your surprise, he takes the invitation. He slowly sits next to you completely silent and it's weird to you not to hear him curse or talk shit for once, it's a welcome change for your aching head.

"You're hungry?"  you ask calmly, making him look at you in disbelieve as if you just handed him drugs, "Go ahead, blow your fuse, tell me all about how stupid I am. I know it's burning your tongue, Negan."

He looks outside before slowly settling Lucille on the floor next to him and grabs his walkie-talkie to radio one of his men.

"Boss, we have no signs of her so far, maybe we should-"

"I got her Dwight, call off the others and head back, it's getting dark."

"Oh, yeah, okay. Sure thing, boss."

"Everythin' alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine, everyone is safe, it's just- Uh."

"Spill it the fuck out, Dwight."

"Well, what do I tell your wives? I mean, they're gonna ask where you are, y'know?"

"You fucking tell them that it's none of their fucking business since they decided that they're better off sitting on their asses all day to paint their fucking nails and you tell them to go the fuck to sleep and not to cause any goddamn problems."

"Sure thing, boss. Be safe out there."

"Yeah, tell Simon I've put you in charge of the compound while I'm gone. Be back in two days starting tomorrow, got that?"

"Yes, boss. I'll keep things going, you can count on me, see you in two days then."

"Yeah." he sighs and puts the small device next to him on the couch, turning to look at you as if he's waiting for you to ask him about the conversation he just had with Dwight but you didn't actually really listen. You're just staring at the flames in front of you, lost in your thoughts until his hand gently tapes your shoulder to bring you back to him.


"We're staying here for tonight, s'too dark to move."

"Negan, you need to stop acting like I don't mean what I say. And, when I say that I'm not going anywhere with you, I freaking mean it!"

He laughs softly after hearing you say "freaking" instead of "fucking" even though you're clearly mad, it amuses him and it pisses you off.

"Oh yeah, aha, real funny. I'm sorry to tell you but some people can actually form a sentence without saying the "f" word twenty times in a row, Negan."

"C'mon, say it. Just once? For me, baby doll."

"Back off, you're being annoying." you let yourself slide off the couch and wince when your butt makes contact with the hard ground; Negan's version of a spanking is seriously painful.

"What came over you, darling? Why d'you run away?"

"I dunno." you lie to him not wanting to tell him that the idea of him coming back to take you away scared you beyond belief and that you're also really scared of the idea of living a sightly normal life now.

You hear him move around on the couch and see him putting his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his thighs, he lets out a sigh.

"Look, I get it, the whole "wives" thing pissed you off and probably freaked you the hell out too and- look- fuckin' shit- I didn't mean for it to."

was that an apology?

"S'okay... Negan?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"Why two days?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said that you'll be gone for two days starting tomorrow, is your home so far away from here?"

He smiles and laughs before grabbing your face with his gloved hand, forcing you to look up at him, "No, only takes a few hours to get there, I just want us to have some bonding time and shit."

"Sounds like a waste of our time, Negan."

"And I bet you that we'll be inseparable by the end of it."

"Why don't you just kill me or let me be? I don't get it."

"I have my reasons, darlin'."

"You're full of crap, y'know that?"

"Wow, you just hurt my feelings just now, how fucking rude of you, doll face."

He slowly lets himself fall down on the couch playing dead with a cocky smile on his lips and it actually gets a giggle out of you, "Damn, I fucking love that sound dolly." he says actually closing his eyes as if he wants to listen to you laugh on repeat.

You feel your cheeks heat up and turn your head not wanting him to see it.

"Ugh, I'm still dying over here, doll. Aaand, I'm pretty sure that only a kiss'll bring me back to life, and you gotta put your heart and tongue into it."

You actually feel like playing along his stupid game and slowly get closer to his face, keeping yourself on the floor not wanting to have to climb on his body to get to his face, and, carefully, you lean into his ear to slowly whisper to him.

"Die then, you prick."

You go back to your previous spot on the couch, the floor starting to numb your bum, and he slowly sits down with an amused expression on his face and a cocky smirk on his lips.

"You're a fucking tease, angel, I like that."

If things can just stay like this for the next two days, spending time with Negan might not be as horrible as you originally feared it could be, maybe it'll be okay, just maybe.

Chapter Text

A somewhat comfortable silence takes over the two of you, Negan's eyes still fixed on you while yours are locked on the fire in front of you, trying to ignore his heavy gaze.

"D'you take a look around the place before getting comfortable, darlin'?"


"You sure about that? 'Cause I fucking came in through a broken window, you saw that?"

"Yes, Negan, I saw it." you let out with a tired sigh, already knowing he's gonna get pissed and already getting tired of it.

"Then why in the holy fuck didn't you cover it up or some shit? Are you really that fucking st-"

"Call me stupid one more time and I won't be responsible for my actions anymore."

You hear him let out a laugh and feel the spot on the couch dip next to you, his right shoulder making contact with your left one, "Stubborn. I was gonna say that you're really fucking stubborn, doll."


"You didn't cover that shit up 'cause you don't like feeling completely safe, do ya?"

okay, i might have underestimated his ability to read people a bit...

You slowly turn your head to look at him and realize that he's way closer to you than you originally thought he was. Without a word, you quickly get up, feeling uneasy after what he just pointed out and make your way towards the old Dinner's kitchen.

"Want something to eat?"

You don't wait for his answer and push the big doors leading into the huge kitchen before making your way to the big stoves, turn the gas on on one of them before flicking your lighter over it, creating a bunch of small bright, blue and red flames. You jump and almost burn yourself when you hear a low whistle right in your left ear, making you turn around only to end up getting crushed into Negan's chest.

"Ugh, ever heard of personal space?" you grumble, slightly annoyed and frustrated when you feel yourself blushing at how close you two are right now.

"Aw, someone's grumpy, uh? How the hell do they still have gas in this place?" he says getting closer to the stoves to inspect them.

"Well, the pipes were broken but I fixed one of them as best as I could... Y'know, giving the situation."

"You got that shit working all by yourself?" he turns around to look at you, an amused smile slowly appearing on his face "Like a big girl?"

"Aha, yeah, real funny, old man."

You watch as his smile gets bigger and he slightly leans back while letting out a laugh, "Da-a-mn! Here's that mouth Simon told me about!"

You turn away from him to fetch food from the small storage room connected to the kitchen, grabbing pastas and getting back out to the kitchen just to see Negan leaning against the counter top next to the lit stove, his eyes fixed on you but you pay no mind to him and just put the pastas next to the stove before putting water to boil on the fire.

You jump and sit down on top of a counter, kicking your feet slightly before looking back at Negan.


"Old man, uh?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt your ego? Well, why don't you go get some comfort from one of your many wives, Negan?"

He lets out a laugh but not a genuine one, a kinda pissed one before looking back at you, jaw clenched, "Watch your mouth darlin', remember who you're talking to."

You scoff at that, irritated by his gigantic ego, "And who, exactly, am I talking to, uh?"

"The man that saved your pretty, sorry ass, girly."

You jump off the counter, now angry, your small hands clenched into fists.

"You know what? No. I didn't ask for any of this crap you're putting me through! Your men literally dragged me to you, I was just doing fine, I didn't need saving!"

You don't let him answer knowing damn well that he'll just spit venom in your face and storm out of the kitchen to the storage room, reaching a small door that leads to a small closed place outside, slamming the said door shut behind you.

Once outside, you take a deep breath and look around you, you're surrounded by a fragile looking, thin, steel fence and there's a few walkers walking around the place, two of them spot you and come pushing again the metal fence so you walk towards them, stopping a few centimeters away from them.

they look worse than they used to...

You take another deep breath and reach for your knife, which is safely tugged in your jeans, before pushing the blade in between their eyes, watching as their limp bodies fall on the ground one after the other with a loud thump and you take a good look at them; a men and a women, seems like they died a long time ago too.

You feel a knot forming in the pit of your stomach and decide to ignore it as best as you can but your breath quickly gets out of control and you understand that a panic attack is about to take over you.

no, not now, please. not with him around, please.

You get away from the fence and go sit down against the exterior wall of the Dinner, trying to calm yourself but your hands are shaking and you feel tears rolling down your face but no noises are coming out of your mouth, just tears.

it fucking hurts...

You bring your legs up to your chest and put your head into your knees, trying to breathe as best as you can but you just can't. Your whole body hurts and you feel like spikes are cutting through you with every breath you take. You slowly take the old shirt still tugged into your jeans, dangling on your hip, out, immediately feeling the warm feeling of the cotton on your skin, and bring it to up your face, nuzzling your nose into it.

"Dad, I'm so scared. I'm so scared." you whisper repeatedly into the soft shirt that once belonged to your father, trying to calm yourself down.

"I'm sure he's really fuckin' proud of you, angel."

Negan's voice makes you look up slightly and you cry out in frustration, he wasn't supposed to see you like this. But, to your surprise, he seems genuinely concerned as he carefully sits down on the ground next to you, "Y-you weren't- you're not su-supposed to- you're not supposed to see me like that- I-"

You're overwhelmed with your tears and you feel like you're about to explode when you realize that you're letting him see just how vulnerable you are and you hate it. You hate that it doesn't feel as wrong as it should in your mind.

"Hey, t's'okay, baby doll, c'mere." he says as he gently wraps his arms around you to bring you close to him, forcing you to straddle him as he slowly gets back up on to his feet, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you back inside, gently hushing you, trying to calm you down, "You're fucking freezing, angel."

He gently drops you on the couch and takes his leather jacket off to slip it on your shaking frame, gently closing it before kissing your forehead.

"Gonna get you some' to eat, you stay there, be right back."

He leaves to get back into the kitchen and you realize he actually cooked while you were out and the idea makes you smile a little.

You bend over to get your backpack, which is still sitting on the floor, and grab it, pulling it on your thighs to pull out the warm fuzzy blanket Jesus gave to you, and wrap your shaking body in it.

Negan comes out of the kitchen with two fuming plates in his hands and puts them on the small coffee table in front of you before sitting down on the couch and taking his glove off of his hand, leaning to grab a plate and pushing yours to you.

"M'not hungry, but, th-thanks."

"Listen, darlin', I get it. You feel like crap and I'm sorry, but you gotta eat something."

You just shook your head no and let your body fall on the couch, hearing Negan let out an heavy sigh.

"Forget what happened out there, please." is the last thing you tell him before feeling your eyes closing heavily.






3:00 AM:

Your eyes slowly open, your head aches and it hurts when you breathe but you still manage to slowly get up, careful not to wake Negan up as he's sleeping right next to you. Rubbing your eyes awake, you see that your plate is still waiting for you on the table in front of the couch so you take it and silently walk away to get to the bar sitting in the middle of the old place, sitting down on one of the old stools.

You look down at your watch with a smile on your face, it's cool to finally be able to know exactly what time and day it is, before looking up at the plate sitting on the counter but your appetite just isn't there so you get back up and silently get back towards the couch to see that the fire you've started yesterday is almost dying.

Carefully not make too much noise, you reach for your backpack and put the bible you took back at the church out, tearing some more pages from it before throwing them in the bin, feeding the fire.

"Some people would be pissed to see you burn a bible, darlin'." Negan says, his voice way lower and scruffier as he just woke up.

"Well, some people are really stupid then 'cause, when you don't have a choice, you make do."

Negan slowly sits down, rubbing his eyes awake like you did seconds prior to that before looking at you, "You ate somethin'?" he says gesturing the now empty spot of the coffee table where your plate used to be.

"No, I tried but- I can't."

He leans further back into the couch, running his hands over his face, "What happened to you, baby doll?"

"I told you to just forget about it, okay? You caught me in a moment you weren't supposed to, so, just drop it. Please." you turn your head slightly to take a look at him and take your time to examine him; his knuckles are bloody, bruised and slightly open and his white t-shirt is clinging to his chest and shoulders, "Is he okay?"

"Who the hell are you talking about, darlin'?"

"Jesus, did you hurt him?" you ask, making him sit back up and look at you, confusion written all over his face, "I- uh, I didn't spend my whole day here yesterday, Negan," you admit, pulling nervously at your fingers, "I went to the Sanctuary too, like, inside."

"Ex-fucking-cuse the shit outta me?"

"I tr-tracked down the tracks your trucks left on the road and I went in. I saw- well, just about everything and- I heard one of your men saying that "some prick" stole from you and that you went to "shove Lucille up his ass"... So, is he okay?"

"You actually sneaked inside my fucking place, doll?"


He looks at you in pure disbelieve and... admiration? "Mother of fucking God. So, shit, what d'you think?"

"Your bedroom is overdone, like, way over the top and your wives all look like charity cases but your workers sure are something, the place is pretty big and using walkers, having them guard the place is actually a really smart move." 

"You went in my bedroom, sweetheart?" he says with a smirk on his lips.

"W-well yeah, I didn't know it was your room though... 'til I walked in..."

He laughs and he looks at you with a sincere smile on his face, "He's fine, promise."


"What's with you two, anyway?"


"C'mon, darling, you're not asking me how he's doing just to ask."

"Excuse me? Wow, look Negan, people can actually care about each other without expecting to get something out of it okay? What's wrong with you!"

"Fair enough." he says dropping back on the couch still looking at you.

"Okay, do whatever you want but I'm moving." you say as you get off the couch, grab your backpack and start walking around to make sure that you're not forgetting anything.

"What the hell do you mean you're "moving"? You're not going anywhere, it's still dark out."

"I have a flashlight."

His hand harshly grabs your left forearm making you wince in pain as your wounds still haven't healed and his grip seems to loosen up a bit afterwards but he keeps a firm hand on you, pulling you flush against his body, "You're really fucking stubborn, princess, but, when I fucking say something? You listen, am I fucking clear or do I have to let Lucille remind you?"

"No! No, I'll listen, I promise." you say, scared at the idea of a reunion with Lucille.

He laughs and kisses the top of your head before caressing your face with his right thumb, "Good girl, now, was that so complicated?"

yes, t'was...

You feel yourself blush at the praise and let your head down, looking at the ground, but Negan's hand comes to grab your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He has a smile on his face still, "Was it?"


"You're gonna have to learn to behave and listen to me, kitten, 'cause I won't have you giving me attitude back at the Sanctuary, are we clear?"

"I-" you hesitate for a second but decide to stay strong and stand your grounds, "I've already told you, I'm not going anywhere with you, Negan."

He's about to answer when loud banging noises shut him up, you both look at the giant windows of the Dinner to see that there's a bunch of walkers scratching the glass and banging on it.

"Is it still too dark for your liking or can we get a move on, now, your majesty?"

He glares at you, pissed off 'cause he knows you're right, "Fucking shit, let's go then."

You head towards the couch to pull out the fire still burning in the bin and go back to Negan to grab your backpack and put it on your shoulders, your bow in hand.

"Wait, before we leave, you found anything useful in here?"

"No, the only food left was the pastas you cooked last night, the place was empty."

okay, that's a lie.

"Alright then, let's fucking go."

He grabs your hand and rushes the both of you towards the small office he came in through but not without stopping to get Lucille, which was still lying on the couch, first.

"Ladies first." he says with a smile.

You let out a sigh and try to get a hold on the small opened window but quickly realize that it's too high for you to reach, you hear Negan laughing behind you and feel his hands firmly grabbing your waist, pulling you up without so much as a grunt of effort and, once you crawled out, he hands you his bat and you feel yourself hesitating to take it.

"C'mon, doll, she doesn't bite unless you piss her off or you ask real nicely, promise."

You take Lucille in your small hands and wait for Negan to come up but you hear walkers coming around the Dinner clearly attracted by the noise, "Negan?"

"Hold on, darlin', gotta block the door, fuckers broke in the fucking place, just stand your fucking grounds."

You hear him swear as he tries to block off the door of the office but he clearly is having trouble so, without even thinking, you jump back down through the window and his eyes widen when he spots you.

"What in the holy fuck are doing in here!"

"I'm helping you, you jerk."

You push him off the door and quickly replace him, you get pushed around through the wooden door as the dead don't seem to give up on the idea of getting in.

"Get out of here!"

"Like hell I am, I'm not leaving you in this shithole! Are you fucking insane?!"

"Just trust me, please, Negan." you give him a small nod and a pleading look as he groans out in frustration.

"What's the fucking plan here?!"

You don't have time to answer as the walkers in the building start to lose patience and push harshly on the door, forcing you to apply more of your body weight into it to keep it closed.

"Negan, please! I'm smaller and faster than you, I can easily out-run them, just get out of here!"

He takes a step back and decides to trust you even though he's scared shitless at the idea of your plan not working out.

He gets a hold of the broken window and easily lift himself up, getting out of the small office, once he's out, he quickly grabs Lucille and looks around for any signs of threat, nothing.

"[Y/n]?" he calls out for you as he push himself down on the floor to look through the small window he just came out of, panicking when he sees that the small room is now filled with limp bodies, no signs of you.

"C'mon, doll, this shit ain't funny, where the fuck are you?" he whispers to himself.


He jumps up when he hears your small voice ringing through his ears and takes a look at you. From head to toe, you're covered in blood and guts and you have a small, shy, smile on your face.

"Fucking hell, doll, how the hell- what-"

"Told you I'll handle it... Guess we're even now, you saved my ''sorry'' ass and I saved yours."

He sighs and grabs your face in his hands, once again forcing you to make eye contact with him, "I didn't mean it like that, baby doll."

You try to look down but his hands firmly keep your head in place.

"W-we should- we should get going."

He whispers a soft "yeah" before grabbing your hand again, walking you towards his truck that's still parked in front of the Dinner, he takes a quick look around as he spots a bunch of corpses on the floor, your bloody footprints in the middle of it all.

"Good fucking God! I knew you were an adorable little killing machine. Look at this fuckin' mess, baby doll."

i'm just gonna take this as the compliment... i guess... meh.

He looks back at you with a smile as he opens the door on the passenger side of his truck for you and you slowly get in before he closes the door behind you, making his way in front of the vehicle to get to the the driver's seat, once he's settled in, you look at him and hesitate a bit before asking.

"Now, what?"

"Well, now, we're gonna go look for a nice fucking house to stay in for tonight and we'll see where we go from here, how about it?"

"Sounds good to me." you say looking out the window and sighing deeply.

how did we get into this fucking mess?

He starts the truck and gets on the road, driving to God knows where as he whistles and seems to be pretty at ease with the whole situation. You look around the cabin and spot something shiny on the dash so you gently grab it to see what it is but Negan's voice makes you jump slightly.

"Wouldn't recommend you look at this crap, angel. Just sayin'."

Your curiosity grows bigger at his words and you decide to still look at the small item that you now realize is a picture, you bring it close to you to look at it and choke when you see that it's a photograph of a completely bashed head, the person's body is completely untouched but his head has been smashed to pieces, you feel sick to your stomach.

who does that? what the fuck?

"W-what- Negan- What i-is that?" 

"This, darling, is how I deal with my problems, bash 'em." he says with a proud smile on his face.

Without even thinking twice, your reach for the handle on your door and open it, making Negan stop the truck abruptly.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"I'm not staying with you, I'm gonna be sick."

You grab your backpack and jump off the seat, slamming the door of the truck before you start to head back into the woods like you usually would but it's without counting on Negan to stop you.

"Unless you want to end up like this son of a bitch you better get your ass back in the fucking truck, darlin'."

His voice is low, menacing and it scares you. You feel your body shaking and tears filling your eyes, "Do it."

He furrows his eyebrows and gets out of the truck, not even bothering to turn the engine off, before slowly walking towards you, making you step back and away from him.

"You're asking me to fucking kill you?"


And, as he already did once, he completely changes the topic to avoid having to tell you that he just can't imagine hurting you on purpose, let alone kill you so brutally, "Alright, listen the fuck up here, darling. I'm gonna ask you one more fucking time; what happened to you?"

You let out a loud sob and curl into a tree behind you, you don't want to tell him anything about you but you also really do. You need someone to talk to, someone to help you carry all this weight you have on your shoulders, you can't do it all by yourself anymore.

what the hell is happening to me?

"I- I can't-"

"Yes, you can, and you fucking will, but not here though. We're gonna find a place to stay first, c'mon, angel."

He gets a hold of your shaking body, carrying you back to his struck, shutting the door once he's put you in your sit and runs back to his side, slamming the door on his side and getting the truck back on the road.

It's a long, silent drive and you let a small yet sincere smile appear on your face as you get to see the very first rays of sun, the sky colored with a soft pink.

The truck comes to a stop, snapping you out of your daydream.

"Here." Negan says, turning the keys in the ignition and shoving them in his pocket before getting out of the truck and you follow, confused as to what he means by "here".

"There's... nothing here." you say, looking around once you're out of the vehicle, there's nothing but woods surrounding you.

"I know, c'mere" he says gesturing you to come to him as he stands in front of his big black truck, you look at him confused but still do as you're told.


You let out a surprised squeal as he lifts you up above him and orders you to grab on the edge of the truck, you do still slightly confused and push yourself the rest of the way, settling on top of the truck's roof, gasping when you see that, from here, you can see the sunrise perfectly.

You're so into it, you don't even realize that Negan followed you up and is now looking at you, amused and satisfied to see you in awe in front of the scenery.



You quickly realize that, once again, it's his way of saying "sorry" without having to say it out loud but it doesn't matter to you. You've only met him two days ago and you're already tired of fighting with him so you don't question anything he does anymore, you just let things be.

For now.

Chapter Text

Everything is so calm and, for a short instant, it's just you. You shut everything out, erase Negan too, and just let yourself get lost at the sight of the rising sun.

For a short instant, it feels right to be alive.

For a short instant, you feel like things aren't as wrong as they seem.

Just for a short instant, you allow yourself to take pride in the fact that you've made it that far all by yourself.

You take pride in never needing anyone, in never being greedy when it'll be easy for you to be in this world, in never letting the bad things you've been through take your humanity away from you, in never losing sight of who you truly are and who you used to be.

You've made it through thick and thin and, even though you're all bruised and a little lost now, you're still here, you're still going strong.

You're the most human person on left this planet and you don't even realize it. A gentle soul is power and strength, not weakness. It's so easy to let the bad of this world take over you but; being soft? Now that's power right there.

"What's on your mind, darlin'?" Negan's voice pops the bubble you've created around you and brings you back to this harsh reality of yours.

"You were wrong - about me not wanting to feel completely safe. It's not that I don't want to, it's- It's more complicated than that." you confess to him, not answering his previous question, feeling the need to vent.

"Try me, doll." he says inviting you to openly talk to him.

"Have you- Have you ever been hurt, like, r-really bad?" you ask looking down at your hands.

"Nah, seems like I've always been the bad guy of the story." he says, looking at you.


"How 'bout you, baby doll? I mean, it's pretty damn obvious you've been fucked over but, shit, I might be wrong, y'know?"

"I-uh-" you let out a nervous laugh, pulling at your now shaking fingers, "My mom."

"What about her?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious and eager to know more about you.

"I don't- Well, I don't r-really know. My dad he- He got into a c-car accident and I uh- I was with him but, well obviously, I survived... He- he didn't though." you feel tears coming and your throat tightening, just mentioning him hurts, "M-my mom- she uh- she changed after that day. She, I-I can't, Negan I can't."

"But you need to. Don't you, angel?" he's right, you hate to admit it but you do need to tell someone about what happened. You never did, too scared that something would happen to your mom because of it, but, now, well, she's gone, no one can take her away from you, it already happened.

"It started with r-really mean words, you know? S-she'd tell me that- That it should have been me, not him and that-" you take a deep, shaky, breath, "that I took the only person she ever loved away from her, that she hated me, that she wanted me dead." you force a smile to try and look like you're not about to break in front of him but miserably fail and let a small, sad smile appear on your lips instead, "She uh-she started to b-beat me up, she tried drowning me once but most of the time she would lock me in my closet for hours, even for days sometimes... She w-would just leave me in there, she stopped feeding me, forced me to drink alcohol too-"

You look up at Negan to see his jaw clench and his eyes full of anger and- is that sadness? Your body starts to shake and you let out yet another nervous laugh and force yourself to smile, "But, hey, some people have it way worse."

"Jesus fucking Christ, [y/n]." his eyes are looking straight into yours.

it's so weird to hear him say our name instead of the usual pet names...

"Keep goin', doll. Let it the fuck out."

"I'm just making you angry, aren't I?" you say, crying now, before bringing your legs to your chest to try and feel a small bit safer.

"I'm not mad at you, lil' one."

You let the left side of your head rest on your right knee, Negan sitting to your right, now looking at him as you try to finish what you've just started, "She just didn't stop, y'know? She just- kept pouring alcohol into my mouth until I'd fall unconscious, she- she'd just leave me here just- just f-for me to wake up hours later and throw my guts up, I just- I- I was just a little girl you know? I- I loved her so much despite everything... I was only seven for God's sake. I g-grew up so fast you know? I had to. She loved me too, I think? I- I dunno... All I know is that- When she'd get drunk, like, really drunk, she would come into my room and j-just sit on the bed next to me and cry- She- She'd apologize and tell me that she loved me and I believed her, every single time, I would tell her that everything was gonna be alright, that we'd make it but we never did. She was back to hating me the morning after and I just- I just took it, 'cause I loved her- I loved her so much, Negan." you let out another nervous laugh, "I'm that pathetic. I was so scared of being alone, I still am, I hate being alone."

"I don't ever want to hear you say that shit again, darlin'. What she did to you? Now that's fucking pathetic, you survived this shit, you survived being mistreated by one of the two persons that's supposed to love you no fucking matter what, I don't see pathetic in that, so, don't you ever let me catch you talkin' down on yourself like that."

Before you can even build up the energy to answer him, his arms are grabbing your body, making you straddle him, pushing you against him.

"Y-your skin is so cold" you say as you reach out to touch his arms, "I'm s-such a brat. I'm w-wearing your jacket while y-you're out here i-in the cold with only a shirt on."

He lets out a small laugh and kisses the top of your head before tightening his grip on your body and you let out a surprised squeal when you feel him jump off the roof of the truck whilst carrying you, "I'm not cold darling, but you, you're fucking freezing though, even with my jacket on. So, back into the truck we go."

He opens the passenger's door and slips you into the cabin before carefully closing the door and going around to his side. Climbing in and starting the engine, he looks at you with a small smirk, "You're still down for some house hunting, darlin'?"

"Can we try to find one with a fireplace?" you ask nervously, playing with your hair.

"Fuck yes, we can, doll face."

A surprisingly comfortable silence takes over in the small cabin of the truck and you slowly relax into your seat, looking out the window but you feel Negan's eyes on you and it makes you squirm uncontrollably in your seat.

"W-what is it?"

"You just look really fuckin' good with my jacket on, baby girl."

You feel yourself blush and it actually feels like your skin is on fire. You nervously bite down on your lip, an old habit of yours, and jump when you hear him let out a groan.

"Don't- bite your lip, angel."

"S-sorry I- Sorry."

You're confused as to why on Earth you biting your lip is such a bad thing but you don't ask questions, you just look back out the window and wait for him to stop when he'd have find a place he'll think suitable for you two to spend the night in.

After of couple minutes of driving, you spot a really cute looking house and jump excitedly on your seat earning a laugh from Negan.

"See one you like, baby doll?" he asks with a small grin, clearly amused by your excited little jump.

"Look at this one. Think we could at least check it out?" you ask, looking at him, giving him unintentional puppy eyes.

He drives further into the small village you've been driving through for at least thirty minutes now and parks in front of the house you've spotted before looking at you with a cocky smirk on his face, "F'course we can angel, but you gotta say please first."

one day I'll smack that arrogant smirk off of your stupid handsome face, you jerk...

"P-please, Negan?"

"Good girl." he praises with an extremely arrogant and satisfied grin on his lips.

You turn away from him, your cheeks seriously burning you and clumsily reach for the handle on the door to quickly pull it open and jump off the truck, eager to put some distance between you and the man. You get an hold on your backpack and your bow before slamming the heavy door shut. Negan mirrors your actions before jogging to your side of the truck with Lucille in hand and a smile on his face.

"Okay, now, I'm gonna go clean the place up, you wait for me h-"

"No, I'm not waiting for you anywhere." you protest, making him frown, "I'm going in with you and that's that."

You're both surprised by your sudden outburst and Negan gives you the exact same look he gave you when you spat on him the first time you two officially met, "What did I fucking say about misbehaving and talking back?"

"I- I'm going in with or without you... I don't need you anyways."

You go past him and walk towards the house, forcing the front door open with your shoulder and going in, not bothering to wait for him.

you don't get to tell me what to do out here, you ass.

You slam your small fist against one of the four walls of the main hall, waiting, listening for any kind of noises or movements. When you hear loud noises echoing through the house, you carefully head further into it and spot a walker laying at the end of a huge staircase, struggling to get back on its feet after it just feel down the stairs.

explains the commotion.

You slowly get down on your knees and carefully take your butterfly knife out of your jeans to push it through its putrefied skull. After the body goes limp on the floor, you slowly get back up and head up the stairs when you hear scratching noises on one of the wooden doors of the first floor and, as you get closer to it, you see that it's decorated with a pink plank of wood and gold paint, it reads; "Heather".

You start to panic and immediately call out for Negan, knowing damn well that you're not gonna be able to face what might be behind that door.

"Thought you didn't need me, dolly." his voice is loud and his tone arrogant as he makes his way towards you.

"N-negan, please- I can't." you say as you gesture him towards the door.

He furrow his eyebrows, confused as to what is it you can't do but he quickly understands when he hears the noises coming through the white door in front of you, "Go wait for me downstairs, [y/n]."

"Y-you sure you don-"

He glares at you with a tight jaw, clearly silently warning you not to talk fight him on this one and, at that, you give him a quick nod and head back down the stairs just to look at the dead women laying at the end of the staircase.

You sigh and drag the dead body to the backyard of the house, which is surrounded by a white fence, before carefully letting go of the body and heading back into the house to search the kitchen, looking for alcohol to help you burn the corpse but, as you finally find a bottle of pure alcohol, you stop dead in your tracks when you hear loud crushing noises coming from upstairs and after a while, you hear Negan walking down the stairs, whistling.

what the hell is wrong with this man?

He comes into the kitchen and carefully brings his bat on the top of the island sitting in the middle of the room, and, as you take a good look at Lucille, you see that the bat is baked in fresh blood and pieces of flesh; you feel like throwing up.

"Wha- What d'you do?"

"Y'know, the usual, left her in her room though, put her in her bed and locked the door."

he actually put her in her bed? that's such a gentle gesture coming from him...

And, as if he can read your mind, you hear him let out a small laugh, "Hey, I'm a dick but I'm not a fucking monster, darlin'."

"I-I didn't- I never thought you were."

He seems surprised by your words and you take the opportunity to sneak back out in the backyard to finish what you've started. You slowly pour the flammable liquid on the limp body laying on the grass before looking through your backpack to get your lighter out.

"I hope that you're at peace now and- And that you don't mind us staying in your house."

You flick the lighter to create a small flame before kneeling down and grabbing the women's old, completely torn out, t-shirt, letting the small flame feed on the tissue. In a few minutes, the body is burning slowly in the grass.

You slowly turn away from the body, letting it burn at its own pace, just to find Negan looking at you through the kitchen's window. You drag yourself back inside the house with heavy feet and directly go in the living room to let yourself fall on the big leather couch sitting in the middle of the big room.

"What d'you say to her, baby doll?" Negan asks as he sits down next to you on the couch.


"I saw you saying something to her. What was it?"

okay this is awkward, he actually saw you talking to a corpse...

"Oh, I- uh... Just that I hope that she's peaceful." you say, nervously look at him, "So," you start trying to break the awkward silence "now what?" you ask, yet again.

"Good fuckin' question, baby girl."

"Wow, thanks. Helpful information right there." he lets out a small laugh as you sink down on the comfy couch, sighting loudly, "I'm sorry by the way."

"About what, darlin'?" he asks, clearly confused.

"About this morning, you uh- I- I shouldn't have told you what I told you, t'was stupid."

Silence slowly starts to take over between the two of you yet again but Negan is quick to break it, "I lost my fucking wife, darlin'. Cheated on her... Only realized how fucked up it was when she got diagnosed with cancer. I felt like shit, she knew I wasn't faithful but she never kicked me out of her life for some goddamn reason. She ended up dying after everything went to shit, ain't a damn thing I could've done to help her anyway, y'know?"

well shit, call me Gerald and kick me in the balls...

"W-why are you telling me this? I mean, don't get me wrong! I'm happy you did but- why?"

He looks at you with a smile on his face, "Well, you decided to trust me and actually opened up to me a little so, now, we're even, baby girl."

"Was her name L-Lucille?"


he gave the bat he uses to slaughter people the name of his dead wife... how the hell am i supposed to feel about this? hell, i'm probably not supposed to feel any kind of way about it... it's his life after all, guess we all have our ways to deal with death.

"I never kissed anyone- I'm still a virgin. My best friend was a dying seventy-three years old lady, I have a plushy in my backpack that I've been carrying around ever since my dad gave it to me on my third's birthday, it's a white lamb... and, I talk a lot when I'm nervous 'cause I don't like complete silence, it makes me really nervous so I kinda throw everything and anything out just to fill it... Like I'm doing right now, God, please say something."

You slowly turn your head to see him smiling, clearly amused at how panicked you got after his confession, "You never got your first kiss, baby doll?"

"N-no, I guess- I guess I had other things to worry about, you know? And n-now, well- now I clearly have other things to be doing as well." you confess with a nervous laugh as you pull at your fingers once again until Negan's hands grab yours to drag you close to him, your body collapsing into his and you feel your cheeks burning again when you feel the tip of his nose touching your forehead.

"Look at me, darling." you slowly look up and end up face to face with him, your noses now touching and his lips are so close to yours it makes you wanna cry, "Would you be okay if I happened to be your first, angel?"

You swallow loudly, making him laugh, before biting down on your lip. You look straight into his eyes and, before you know it, you feel your head slowly nodding up and down as his smile turns into a smirk.

"Just follow my lead, baby doll." he whispers, pressing you against him a little bit more.

You don't have time to regret your decision as his lips gently crash into yours and you feel like you're about to explode. You panic, not knowing what to do but, when you feel one of his hands grabbing the back of your neck while the other comes to cup your jaw, it just feels so right, you simply do as he said and follow his lead; you even allow yourself to relax a little bit against his chest.

One of your shaking hands carefully goes up to his face, barely touching his salt and pepper beard with the very tip of your fingers, your touch is so shy and soft that he can barely feel it but he does and that's all that matters, really.

The minutes go by and your small, innocent, kiss slowly starts to turn into something more. You slightly pull back, surprised, when you feel his tongue running across your bottom lip, making him laugh against your lips as he bits down on it and slowly pulls away from you, taking your bottom lip with him before letting go of it to carefully watch it bounce back against your upper lip.

You thought he was going to say something to you, give you one of his cocky, kinda rude, and unnecessary little speech but he barely gives you the time to realize what just happened before he's back to attacking your already swollen to hell lips again. Pushing you down into the couch, he hovers over you as his tongue slips out again but this time he doesn't gently wait for you to get the message, he just pushes his way through your lips and immediately swirls his tongue against yours.

Your eyes snap open, and you didn't even realize that they closed a long time ago, as a small, needy, noise comes out of the back of your throat making Negan groan and smile into the kiss. You just moaned. Negan just made you moan and you can feel your cheeks burning red again but it doesn't make you pull away from him, no; you actually finally take a little part in it and slowly push your tongue back against his which seems to be all he needed as he starts to become way more dominant towards you.

He harshly grabs both your hands, pinning them above your head with only one of his as the other hand slowly comes down around your throat, getting a gasp out of you. He pulls back from your lips, out of breath but with a cocky smile on his face as he rests his forehead against yours and takes a good look at you; your eyes are still close, your lips are swollen and shiny, you look like a mess and all he did was kiss you.

"Fuckin' shit, baby girl. You look so fucked out right now." you can feel his breath hitting your wet lips as he speaks, "You're mine, princess. All fuckin' mine."

"A-all yours." you don't even realize what you just let out, you're too out of it to have any kind of filter between your mouth and your brain.

"Good girl."

He slowly drops his head into the crook of your exposed neck, biting, nibbling and sucking on the skin there until his teeth graze a ticklish spot right below the right side of your jaw, making your hips buck against his and getting a needy noise out of your mouth as you feel him biting and harshly sucking on said spot.

You quickly try to cover your face with your hands, embarrassed at the fact that you just rubbed yourself against him like a damn bitch in heat, but his hand is still tightly wrapped around your wrists, keeping you from moving. You wiggle around, trying to avoid eye contact with him but he harshly grabs your face with his free hand.

"Fuckin' fuck, baby girl. You keep makin' noises like these and I won't be able to control my goddamn self anymore."

He carefully looks at the mark he just made right below your jaw and grins down at you. You're out of breath, your cheeks tainted with a bright red, your eyes wide and your whole body is shaking. He completely wrecked you and it makes perfect for his ego and self-esteem.

He never felt so turned on in his entire life which is kind of odd considering that he's been with, and still is with, many women before but you? You're way different, you're something else, he can't quite put his finger on it; all he knows is that he's not willing to let go of you which kind of pisses him off. He never planned on catching feelings, quite the opposite actually.

He completely zones out for a second, his thumb is gently caressing your lower lip and slowly trails up to your cheek, feeling how hot it is, as he slowly comes back to reality and he looks really confused.

"D-did I- Have I done something wrong?"

He laughs gently before stealing a kiss from you, "Of course not, baby doll. Hell, you did something very fuckin' right, actually."

You blush a little harder and giggle nervously underneath him which makes him smile as he bends down to kiss your forehead, "I don't let people talk back to me y'know? That kind of shit pisses me off more than you could ever imagine, but - when you do it? Goddamn, if it doesn't make my dick rock hard, dolly. Hell, I don't let people do half the shit you do around me without getting their ass beat... What the hell are you doing to me, woman?"

"What about y-your-"

"Hell no, these women don't talk to me like you do either. Hell, darlin', they're not what they are now for no fucking reason. They're weak, they can't stand up for their fucking selves."

"I-I'm not like that, I can't just depend on someone, I just- I hate that kind of behavior it's so- So easy... Not that I have anything to say about these women, I don't know them but- I just don't want to get to know them... They just d-don't appeal to me... At all."

He's still laying on top of you, your hands still pinned above your head, and it feel seriously weird to have such a serious conversation in such an intimate position, "Yeah, I get it, princess. But- Fuckin' shit, I'm not letting you go."


"It's not fuckin' negotiable doll, no matter what happens next? It happens with you working with me."

"How about I work for you?"


"Hear me out, please Negan." he lets out a frustrated sigh and let his forehead drop back against yours, "Let's say I come back with you-"

"I like that idea."

"Shush. So, how about I come back with you but... I'm free to go out whenever I feel the need to, everything I'll find out there I'll bring back to you, promise-"


"Let me finish. I don't sleep in your parts of the place. I want a room where your workers sleep."

"Did you take a look at them? No private bathroom, only a fucking bed and a dresser, these rooms are a strict fucking minimum, doll."

"No, I haven't, actually, but I don't care about any of this. I don't want to see or share my space with any of the charity cases you keep in your headquarters, Negan."

He lets out a defeated sigh and pushes his nose against yours, "If I agree to all of this shit, you'll come back with me? No questions asked?"

"Only if you promise me that I'll be able to have my room with the rest of your workers, that I'll be able to get out of the compound whenever I want, no questions asked, and that I'll get to live and work with everyone else and not for and with your trophies."

"Wouldn't call 'em trophies, darlin'." he smirks, "You sure you've seem all of them?" he says with a laugh and you can help the giggle that comes out of you. Yeah, it's a mean ad fucked up joke but you don't really care.

which is really unlike you to let a man make fun of a woman's appearance, let alone laugh along??

"Fuckin' fuckidy fuck, baby doll... You're a tough lil' cookie, aren't you?"

"I've been told, yeah."

"Okay. I promise. And I'm a man of my fuckin' words."

what? did he just- what?


"Yeah, we'll head back tomorrow morning. I'll tell my men to let you out whenever you fuckin' want but, I want you to tell whoever the fuck opens the gate to you how much time you're gonna spend out, understood?"


"And- fucking hell, I'll get you a room ready in the workers quarters... You sure you-"

"Yes, Negan, I'm sure."

"Okay... Okay. What kind of work d'you want, baby doll? Since you wanna work for points and earn your shit like a big girl."

"C-can I- Scavenging, I want to go out on supply runs, I'm really good at it, I swear I-"

"Supply runs it is then, little one."

"R-really? That easily?" you quint your eyes at him, unsure of what to think how of how easily you're getting your way. You may not know the man all that much but he made it pretty fucking clear that he was hard-headed as all hell.

"Doll, I've seen you escape a fucking overran crappy Dinner all by yourself. You're one hell of a shot with that bow o'yours and, goddamn, the way you handle knifes is ridiculously hot and seriously badass, kinda scared to piss you off when there's blades laying around to be honest."

You feel anxiety rolling through you as you realize that, tomorrow, you're gonna have to live with other people and interact with them and that you'll have a roof above your head every single night and that you're gonna have to take showers in a collective bathroom and- God, you're freaking out.

hey, calm the fuck down, okay? you'll be able to get out whenever, if it gets too hard you'll be able to just run the fuck away plus who said you'll have to interact with anyone? just do you, don't be rude to people but you don't have to read them a fucking story either, y'know? it'll be okay... plus, you're actually gonna have the opportunity to sneak out to go visit jesus, pretty cool if you ask me.

"Hey, you still with me, baby doll?" Negan's voice snaps you out of your inner monologue and you can feel your anxiety slowly die down.

"Y-yeah. So... Promise?"

"Promise, princess."

You wiggle your pinkie finger for him to reach for it and wrap his own around it which he actually does to your surprise and delight.

the real question is; is he ever going to let go of my hands or is he just waiting for blood to stop running through them???

Once again, he surprises you with his mind reading skills as he carefully lets go of your hands, a huge red mark around both your wrists. You slowly rub up them and look back at Negan, doing something that surprises the both of you when you carefully snake one of your hands around his neck and gently grab his dark hair as your left hand takes a hold of his strong, right, arm.

He carefully leans towards you, pushing his nose against yours, looking at you to make sure that he's not misreading anything here and you give him a small nod, giving him permission to capture your lips with his once again but this time you're way more open to him. You push him further down with the hand holding the back of his neck, pulling on his hair, making him groan into your mouth as his tongue forces itself into the kiss again, your tongue immediately greeting it this time around.

There's nothing innocent about this kiss, it's needy, eager, greedy and full of frustration and unspoken words and promises from Negan.

Just like your relationship is about to become and actually already is if you think about it.

Chapter Text

Are you seriously doing this? Is this really happening? You feel your fingers shaking as you walk as fast as possible, trying to keep up with Negan's pace, you look around, people are kneeling as soon as Negan gets close to them.

what on earth did you get yourself into?

Right on your heels are Dwight and Simon as Negan guides you to your room, your backpack is on your shoulders, your right hand tightly wrapped around your bow, your knuckles white and your heart is beating so fast, it feels like you're about to explode.

You finally get out of everyone's sight as you turn into a long corridor which leads to the bedrooms. Negan takes your free left hand and brings you close to him, opening the door of one of the rooms before carefully putting you in front of him for you to step into your new room.

You didn't take the time to take a peak into the rooms when you gave yourself the grand tour of the place two days ago so you take a moment to look around the room you're in and, to your surprise; it's actually quite big, the bed looks good enough to sleep on, there's a wooden chest with a padlock resting on top of it-

at least you can keep your shit safe...

There's also a dresser, a bunch of clothes neatly folded on the bed and two big windows with black curtains on them which darken the room a little but it's far from being something to complain about in your book.

and he calls that "strict minimum"? this dude has no idea what kind of luxury this is... kinda pissed off now...

"Like I said, baby doll, nothing luxurious b-"

"Are you kidding? That's more than enough, Negan." 

He laughs and kisses your forehead before smiling down at you, "My door's always open to you, princess. Just so you know."

ugh, fuck off with that.

"M'good." you look down at your hands and take a deep, shaky, breath.

"Alright, little one, I gotta go take a look around, see what these sorry fucks have been up to while I had my back turned. I'll see you real soon though."

He swiftly swings Lucille back up on his shoulder, walking out but stopping to whisper something to Simon and Dwight before vanishing down the corridor, whistling nonchalantly.

Simon takes a long look at you and smiles before getting close to you, "Hey, look, shit happens, yeah? I'm just gonna put what happened on the account of you before all nervous and shit. Just don't pull that crap again and we'll be all good, alright, darlin'?"

"You want an apology?" you ask through gritted teeth, his nonchalant attitude pissing you off.

He laughs and leans towards you, "Nah, I don't ask for shit that are completely out of my reach, [y/n]."

"Good, 'cause I don't write checks I can't cash, Simon."

"D-a-amn, girly! I knew I liked you for a reason." he takes another look at you as you look straight into his eyes, silently telling him that you're not about to break and put your head down for him which makes him smile, "Alright, I got shit to do, Dwighty boy here is gonna help you get settle. Catch ya on the flip side, [y/n]."

He waves you goodbye and you mutter a "whatever" before dropping on the bed sitting in the middle of the room, you slowly look up at Dwight when you feel him staring at you. He's leaned against the wall in front of you, his arms crossed against his chest and a slightly awkward silence takes over the two of you as you kick your feet around in pure anxiety and let out a deep sigh.

"I think your scar looks badass... I kinda like it." you shyly whisper, trying to break the silence in the room, referring to the burn he's sporting on his face.

He lets out a small laugh and pushes himself off the wall, "Negan told us that you gave yourself a tour of the place already... How the fuck did you manage do get past the wall? Past the walkers? Past the fucking guards?"

"I'm just sneaky like that, y'know." you give him a small smile and he gives you one back.

"Y'know, Simon told everyone about how you almost broke his jaw and to be honest... You sound like a real lil' badass, [y/n]."

"I- I don't wanna be here Dwight..."

"Yeah, I see that, you're all tense and shit. But- If it can make you feel any better, Negan brought us all up to speed, he told us all about your lil' deal and he's a man of his words, so are we. You get to go out right now if you want, if that's what you need, you just have to tell me how long you'll be gone for and I'll open the gate for you, promise."

"Thank you but- I think I'm gonna stick around for today." 

he might actually be cool to hang out with...

"Alright then, you see that little radio on your nightstand?" he asks, pointing at the talkie-walkie on the top of the nightstand beside your new bed, "You can use it whenever. If you need anything, beep me." he slowly walks towards the door of your new bedroom before stopping his steps, "You're going on your first supply run tomorrow and also, if you're interested, there's a little party going on tonight in the common break room, y'see which one it is?"

"T-the one with the pool table and the small tv?"

"Yup, that's the one." he says with a smile, amused at the fact that you've already given yourself a tour of the place before you even got here, "Alright, I'll see you later, [y/n]. Feel free to go have a look around."

"Okay... Thank you."

He nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind him and lets the weight of your decision come crushing down on you the second the door clicks shut.

now what?

You look around the room and sigh deeply; you feel lost and you hate it. You hate feeling vulnerable, no matter how human it is to do so, it's always the one thing people are looking for and if they find it, they take advantage of you because of it.

people are the worst... you should become a pigeon or some crap.

In pure frustration you throw the pillow sitting on the bed against the wall in front of you, tears blurring your vision. A knock on your door makes you jump off the bed and you quickly put the pillow back in its place before carefully opening the door. 

"Hey there pretty thing, I'm Connor."

A tall, dark haired, green eyed man stands in front of you, a smile on his face and his hand out for you to shake and, even though you feel kind of crept out, you reach out to carefully wrap your hand around his much bigger one and shyly shake it.


"Oh I know who you are- Hell, everyone does. The guys who found you kept talking about how they've found the prettiest girl in the fucking world- their words- and now I can honestly say; goddamn."

okay, he's fucking creepy, this is creepy and awkward, get away, yuk, no.

"Connor, man, shut the fuck up should ya? You scaring the shit outta her." a blonde haired man interrupts and you actually feel thankful for a man opening his mouth for once.

You take a good look at him and, damn, he's handsome to say the least. He's tattooed pretty heavily, it's all black ink with just a smidge of color here and there. He has a snake tattooed around his neck, its head carefully drawn right below his jaw, his eyes are a deep ocean blue and his hair are resting on top of his head in a bun.

"Hi, I'm Randall." he introduces himself with a friendly smile, "Sorry about... that." he says playfully pointing at his friend and you let out a small laugh.

"Fuck you too." the dark haired man says to Randall with a smile on his face.

"Hi, I-I'm [y/n]."

"I know, as Connor was explaining to you... In his own stupid way... We all heard about the beauty queen that punched the shit outta Simon and spat on Negan's face."

You feel your cheeks heating up.

he told them? does it mean that he also told them that he punished you afterwards? ugh, bury me alive please.

"He actually took it pretty well... Hell, you wouldn't be here if he hadn't." Connor explains in a really casual tone.

"Anyway! We didn't mean to bother you, [y/n], we just wanted to know if you were feeling up for lunch?"

"O-oh- uh- I uh... I'm not really hungry, but- thank you, that's really sweet."

"Alright then, don't hesitate. We'll be at the cafeteria if you change your mind, okay?"

"O-okay, thank you, R-Randall."

"No problem, if you need anything, we're here... Even though I don't think Connor is the best person to go to in time of crisis..." he says playfully, wanting to get another laugh out of you and it actually works, you let out a small but genuine laugh and nod your head.

"Damn, man, you're making me look like an ass, not cool."

"I think you're making a good enough job of that on your own, mate."

They both let out a laugh and wave you goodbye but you feel a knot forming in the pit on your stomach as you're closing the door.

i don't want to be alone... please, [y/n]. 

"Guys, wait!"

They both turn around, Connor is smiling and Randall looks genuinely curious, "What is it, princess?" the blonde gently asks

"C-can I- can I come with you?"

"Hell yeah! All aboard the fucking friendship train and shit." Connor says really loudly and runs to get you, throwing you on his back before running back to Randall and you find yourself laughing like a kid on his back, your arms snaking around his neck to keep you steady, "Woo! Shoo shoo motherfuckers!"

He's literally yelling in the small corridor and you really hope that he's not gonna get in trouble for it but it doesn't seem to bother him all that much as he runs around the compound with you giggling on his back and Randall following the two of you, laughing and smiling all whilst shaking his head in mocked disapproval and shame.

Connor gets quieter as you get into the cafeteria but he doesn't put you down, he just wiggles around and gets in line to get food, people are looking at you and you hate the attention, you feel your cheeks burning and Randall seems to notice your discomfort.

"Connor, mate, let her down."

And, surprisingly enough, he does. He carefully lets you get off his back and you have to take a small moment to steady yourself when your feet meet the ground again.

"That was fun, thanks Connor."

"Any day, hell, last time I had the chance to do that was with my niece- damn... Feels like decades ago. Shit is crazy."

You look at Randall, not sure what to say and unsure if you actually hurt him or not but Randall gives a comforting smile telling you that it's okay.

these guys are different from the ones who found us... they actually seem like.... decent human beings?





1:00 PM;

You get out of the cafeteria and head back to your room but a tight grip on your wrist stops you.

"Hold on, [y/n]." you hear Randall's voice and you relax and turn around to face him, secretly thanking your lucky stars that it's not Negan behind you.

"W-what is it?"

"You didn't eat anything, you sure you're okay? You're not hungry at all?" he actually seems genuinely worried about you and, somehow, it doesn't sit quite well with you.

i'm fucking mental...

"N-no, Randall. I-I'm really not, p-promise."

"Alright then." he slowly lets go of your hand, "Go get some rest then, I'll see you later?"

"Yes, of course."

You walk away and pull on your fingers until your reach your bedroom's door and hesitantly reach for the knob but you stop dead in your tracks and start to walk away from the wooden door.

i ain't about to sit around all day and overthink, fuck that.





4:00 PM;

A knock on Negan's office door snaps him out of his thoughts as he barks at whoever knocked to get in. 

"Am I interrupting something, boss?"

"Nah Simon, we got a problem?"

"Uh, well, I'm not sure if it's a problem per say but- Well-"

"Fucking spill it Simon, for fuck's sake." Negan orders, his patience already wearing thin as he looks up for his big office chair.

"Well, it seems like lil' [y/n] just got us a whole week ahead of our schedule..."

"Ex-fucking-cuse the shit outta me, Simon?"

"You know that shitty truck we've been trying to fix for a month now?" Negan squints his eyes, thinking before nodding, "She fixed it this afternoon. Cameron saw her getting out of the garage covered in grease, she left the keys on top of the truck and, when he tried to start it, it started right away."

Negan lets out a laugh and leans back in his chair, a huge smile on his smile, "Well, I'll be fucking damned! Ain't she something."

"Yeah, but it ain't all of it. She cleaned and loaded up every single weapons in the armory and, when I checked, none of them were missing. She didn't steal anything and she wasn't supervised, no one knew about it 'til Faith saw her and came to me 'cause she thought she might have been stealing but, when I got there, she was gone and all the weapons were right where we left 'em. She cleaned the damn kitchen too, that room is so shiny it burns your eyes and she listed all the items in the storage rooms, every single one."

Negan's eyes are wide open and a grin slowly appears on his face, "Where is she now?"

"Last time I caught sight of her, she was hanging out with the boys in the main yard."

Negan feels his jaw clenching violently as he swings Lucille on his shoulder and walks out of his office, completely ignoring Simon as he walks past him, and get out of his quarters to end up outside, his workers kneeling as he walks by but he doesn't pay any mind to them as he makes his way to the main yard.

He finally gets there and spots you, sitting on top of a picnic table, Connor, Randall and a few other men around you, making you laugh and smile. He doesn't like that, he doesn't like it one bit, it pisses him off actually.

"Okay, okay, but; get that, this fool right here shot himself in the fucking leg while taking the safety on his gun off. Like, who the f-"

Everyone gets silent and drop to their knees which makes you furrow your eyebrows in confusion until you turn to look around and see Negan standing right behind you, Lucille on his shoulder and his signature cocky smirk crooking the corner of his mouth.

"Fuck off you sorry fucks."

And they do, they all stand up and run off to whatever they have left to do. You cross your arms against your chest and look at Negan, hurt, "That was rude, calling them that. They work their butts off for you, why would you treat them that way?"

"Look at you, dolly, you're all covered in sweat and grease, looking hot as ever. You've spend your day working your pretty ass off and you're telling me that they're hard working guys? Nah, don't think so. You're an hard worker and I'm seriously impressed which doesn't happen all that much if ever, baby girl."

this man really doesn't know how to give out compliments...

"T-thanks but that's n-nothing spectacular, I'm j-just trying to help out."

"And I really fucking appreciate it, princess. Now, c'mon," he says as he gives his hand out to you, "let's go have a nice little chat in your room, baby doll."

You take his hand, not wanting to make a scene in front of his workers, and follow him as he casually walks past everyone, clearly not disturbed by the fact that everyone is kneeling in front of him as he walks the two of you to your room.

Once you get there, he lets you open the door and you both step inside the bedroom, Negan closing the door behind him and you silently stand in the middle of the room, shifting from one leg to the other, nervously pulling on your fingers and biting down on your lip.

you're so casual when you're nervous. i seriously wonder how people are ever able to tell you're feeling anxious... i'm so sarcastic, i'm hurting my own feelings.

Negan goes to sit on your bed, making himself comfortable, and pets the spot next to him, inviting you to sit beside him and you do.

"Dwight fucked himself over, darlin'." he starts, making you look up at with furrowed eyebrows, confusion written all over your face, "I see the way you look at his burned face, like it's the most cruel shit to ever happen to someone. He and his- I mean my wife fucked up and ran away with my shit in their bags, so, when we brought them back - 'cause we always drag them back - I gave them a choice. Since Sherry's sister, one of my wives, died out there during their little escape I told them that; either Sherry could become mine and Dwight'll get the iron but he'll still get to live here afterwards or they could both get kicked the fuck out... And guess what? She didn't even think twice about it. Nah, she played hard to get, telling me that she wasn't sure but a week later? She came knocking on my door and now she's one of mine and Dwight is missing half of his fucking face, that's just what happens, dolly."

"W-why are you telling me this?"

i'm gonna be fucking sick. bitch, what the fuck is wrong with him? poor dwight, that's so fucked up... what's wrong with this bitch?

"I don't like sharing what's mine."


He sighs in frustration, seeing that you're deliberately missing the point, "Don't let me catch you with one of these fuckers, [y/n]. Unless you're okay with being to blame for one of them getting his fucking face burned."

His words push you over the edge and you get off the bed to stand in front of him, feeling like slapping his face off but controlling yourself somehow, "Bullshit! I'm not yours, Negan! I can do whatever I want with whoever I fucking please! If any of your man gets an iron to the face it'll be your fault, not mine! You'll be the one to blame, what the fuck is wrong with you? Get out!" you yell, pointing at the door.

In a matter of a second, you're pinned against a wall, Negan's nose bumping into yours and, one of his hands grabbing yours to pull them above your head as his free hand gets a slight grip around your throat, "Goddamn, baby doll, I fucking love how easily I can make you snap. You're fucking adorable when you get all mad."

"Let g-go of me Negan, get out of m-my room!" you wiggle around, trying to get out of his grip but he's way bigger and way stronger than you are.

"You're fucking mine." he says through gritted teeth and clenched jaw.

"Screw you! Screw you, screw you, I hate you, Negan!"

He lets out a rather dark, low, laugh and presses his forehead against yours, "You hate me, uh?"

"I fucking hate you, you're the worst kind of man there is, you're gross! I hate you! Leave me alone and just go back to your whores!"

"Say that shit again, princess." the thumb of his left hand, the one wrapped around your throat, gently moves around to caress your soft skin, rubbing small circles to try and soothe you.

"You're gross andI hate you." you quietly whisper, feeling completely exhausted, tears are rolling down your face like water out of a broken sink.

You shut your eyes tightly, trying to make him go away, trying to forget that he's right in front of you but his hands are touching you, he's all over the place and you hate how comforting it is to you when his presence should make you sick... It just doesn't.

"Look at me princess." you shake your head no, tears still dripping down your face, going through your closed lids and you open them when you feel his mouth slightly touching yours, "C'mon, doll, stop crying. You're okay, I got you."

no you're not okay, this is not okay, what the hell is he doing to you?

You let out a loud sob; you're scared of the way he makes you feel, you don't like it. It feels so wrong but it doesn't, you're lost and it feels like you're running in circles ever since he came into your life and that was only three days ago. 

He hushes you and carefully lets go of your hands so that his right hand can now make contact with your left cheek. He gently wipes away a few tears as your small, shaking hands take refuge on each side of his neck and you two stay like that for a few minutes, completely silent, just looking at each other, Negan's thumb still rubbing your cheek absently as you're trying to calm yourself down a little bit.

ugh, just kiss me already for the love of god...

You slightly wiggle around in his arms, trying to get his attention, and he looks at you with a small smirk on his lips like he already knows what you crave. Maybe he doesn't know, maybe he just really craves you and, since his ego is too big to fit in one room, he feels like you crave the exact same thing as he does and he's a hundred percent right even though you'll never admit it to him.

With one swift movement, his lips crash against yours and there's nothing chaste about this kiss. It's pure anger and frustration, it's you trying to take your anger out on him, it's him trying to get his frustration out on you, there's so much frustration in this kiss it's almost unhealthy but none of you care, you can't bring yourselves to give a damn, not now.

"Fucking shit, baby doll." he panted against your parted lip, "I swear to fucking God, you're starting to give me some serious blue balls. Ain't shit I want more than you."

"Why don't you ask one of your many wives for help." you snap back, completely out of breath and patience.

"You think I didn't try? I needed to get off so fucking badly because of you. Damn, she couldn't get me off 'cause all I could think about was that she wasn't you, none of them are. Fucking shit, darlin'." he lets out an heavy sigh, "What the hell are you doing to me? I left her fucking room with a rock hard dick and I had to fucking get myself off in the fucking shower. Not cool, baby girl, not fuckin' cool at all."

He doesn't let you answer, knowing you probably have no clue what any of what he just said means - and he's right - and lets his lips attack yours again, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, groaning as he gets to taste you and you squeal into his mouth when you feel him grinding against you roughly. Your hips are involuntary bucking against him, trying to create the smallest bit of friction through your clothes.

Negan slowly pulls always from your lips and his mouth directly goes down to that special spot underneath the right side of your jaw, sucking and biting on the flesh, making you cry out in both discomfort and pleasure.

"C'mere, baby doll." he mumbles against your skin as he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up against his body.

Your legs instinctively wrap themselves against his waist as he kisses every inch of skin that's exposed him and you don't even realize that he's been bringing you towards your bed until you fall on the mattress, Negan on top of you, his body trapping you, his lips hungrily getting back on yours. His right hand wraps itself around your throat again and, this time, he applies pressure on it; not enough to cut off your airway but enough for you to have a hard time breathing normally.

"You're so fuckin' pretty, kitten."

You let out a loud gasp when his hips start to roll into yours, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes staring straight into yours and you swear you see them getting a shade darker when a literal mewl comes out of your mouth. That cocky smirk of his comes back on his lips and he lets out a dry chuckle against your lips.

"Damn, baby doll. You're mewling like a fucking cat for daddy. You like that?" you quickly nod your head, your cheeks red from embarrassment and from the friction he's giving you, "Use your big girl's words, baby."

You can't. You feel so embarrassed; are you even supposed to like what he's doing to you? Is it normal for you to? You have no clue because you simply don't know the last thing about sex but he doesn't seem satisfied by your silence so he presses his hips harder against yours, forcing an answer out of you.

"Y-yes! Yes Negan, I like it- More, please!"

"My lil kitten's so needy. S'okay, daddy ain't going nowhere."

If there was a fire near you you sure as shit would jump into it, that's just how embarrassed you are right now.

stop questioning it and just go with it, as long as he doesn't do anything you don't want him to do, it's all good.

You swear you can feel something hard poking you as Negan lets out a loud groan and presses harder against you, making you move around below him. His grip gets tighter around your throat and his lips are sucking right below your left ear.

You don't know what to focus on anymore; there's so much going on. It feels like he's everywhere at the same time and it's becoming too much for you to take. You feel your stomach tightening and you start to panic, thinking that you're about to have one of your panic attacks and Negan seems to feel you tense below him as he lets out a small laugh mixed with a grunt.

"S'okay, baby, just let it happen." he whispers lowly against you, his rough voice making his words sound like an order, "I got you, you're safe, I promise."

"N-negan wh-"

Before you can ask him what the hell is happening to you, your legs start to shake, your breathing becomes frantic as his thrusts are getting faster and messier, he's all over the place too it seems. And, just like that, you let out a bunch of curse words you didn't even know were part of your vocabulary and your eyes close, your stomach feels odd as a flash of pure pleasure rips through your body and, for a moment, everything goes white and you're brought back down by Negan's groans.

"Fucking shit- Fuck!" his breathing is heavy and fast, his hand slowly lets go of your throat and his head drops in the crook of your neck. You're both breathless and you both feel way better now, like a huge weight as been lift off your shoulders.

"W-what- Negan- What just happened?" you ask completely out of breath, your eyes closed.

"You just made me cum in my fuckin' pants, that's what just fucking happened, baby doll." he pauses and brings his head up to look at you, "And, goddamn, I just gave you your first orgasm." he flashes that cocky smirk of his, making you blush, "Kinda pissed that I had to dry hump that shit outta you but, hey, it sure as shit is a beginning, ain't that right, princess?"

He lets out a small laugh as he watches realization wash over you and you let out a small gasp as your cheeks start heating up again. You don't know what to say to him. You're no expert but you're pretty sure you're not supposed to say thank you afterwards... Or maybe you are.

"T-thank you?"

"Thank me? Don't be ridiculous, thank youdarlin'. I really needed that shit. Fucking hell, I need way fuckin' more but I won't push you into anything, okay? Just remember that;" he pushes himself to the side to look directly into your eyes, "you're mine, all fucking mine, and so is that lil pussy o'yours." he growls and you feel like the heat in your cheeks is about to melt your face off, "All mine."

His filthy mouth makes you blush once again and you just nod and greedily shuffle on the mattress to nuzzle into him before craning your neck up to silently ask for a kiss which he indulges in with a wicked grin.

well, shit.





6:00 PM:

You just got out of your shower and you're walking back to your room as fast as possible since the only thing covering your nude body is the black towel wrapped around it and you're not really comfortable with that - at all.

"Hey, [y/n]"

who the fuck talks to someone only covered by a fucking towel? are you fucking kidding me? who wants that kind of conversation?! hey gerald, i'm naked under there, what's up?

You slowly turn your head to see Dwight running up to you and feel your cheeks catch fire as realization hits him and he looks as flustered as you are, if not more. He looks like he's about to explode.

"Oh- shit- sorry, I didn't- Uh- I didn't see that you were only wearing... A towel, I'm sorry."

"S'okay. So, w-what's up?"

"Just, real quick, I wanted to remind you about tonight's party that's all." his eyes involuntarily drop to your bare legs which are shinning because you didn't dry well enough but he quickly gets a grip and clears his throat before looking away, "Okay, I'm gonna... go now- yeah- uh- see ya."

He awkwardly walks away and runs off to God knows where as you make a run for your room, locking the door behind you as you let out a sigh of relief, "Okay, I just- I just have to show up real quick at this stupid party and I'll be done with it, right? Just- Like, "hello, I'm a thing now" and leave, easy right?"

You let out a long, loud, frustrated sigh and go fetch some clothes when you spot a set of silk baby pink pajamas sitting on your bed as well as a pair of white fluffy slippers slightly hiding underneath your bed, you reach out to touch the clothes and they feel so soft and, well, silky in your hands that you quickly drop the towel at your feet and grab the silky baby pink shorts to put them on but you stop when you spot a lingerie set right below it.

cheeky bastard...

The set is white silk and lace, there's a bra and a pair of panties, more like a thong actually. You quickly put them on, as you start to get cold in your birthday suit, and you look at your reflection on the big mirror in your room.

giiirl, look at you! it's kinda creepy that Negan's dressing you up but.... look at you!

You smile at your reflection, an happy smile tugging at your lips, and run back to your bed to grab your pajamas. You swiftly pull the silky baby pink shorts on first then the soft camisole that came with them and you immediately swoon at how comfortable that set feels, it's been so long since you actually felt comfortable in clothes. In all honestly, this is all new to you because you've never worn either silk or sexy lacy underwear but it's a welcome change because, God, is it comfortable to wear.

hey now! that's a lie, Jesus' clothes are super comfortable.

You look at the said clothes lying on the floor and quickly go pick them up before putting them in the safety of your wooden chest, locking it away along with your backpack, and all the supplies in it, as well as your bow. You close the chest and quickly put your old favorite pair of white knee-high socks on and slip in your new white fluffy slippers before running out of your room only to end up getting crushed against someone's chest.

"Shoot! I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking wh-"

"Hey, [y/n], it's okay angel." you hear Randall's voice snapping you out of your messy apology, "Wow- you- you look amazing." he says as you step away from his chest, allowing him to take a good look at you.

"T-thank you, Randall, you- you look good too." you say sincerely with a genuine smile.

"Why, thank you, my dear. I, indeed, do look pretty fucking good tonight. Yes, indeed." he says with a fake and seriously offensive British accent, making you laugh and you swear you almost forgot how that felt like.

"My ribs hurt, it's awful."

He lets out a small laugh and swings his hand over your shoulders, literally dragging you along with him through the corridors.

"Since work ends at five, the guys and I usually get together to have a chat and some beers, wanna join? Oh, wait, sorry." he clears his throat, "Would you care to join us for a tea party, m'dear? Also, ain't no tea to this party, darling, only beers and a bunch of hillbillies." he finishes with his British accent making choke on your own spit.

"Why, yes, it will be my pleasure, dear sir."

"Hm, yes, very well."

You both look at each other and end up losing it, your laughs can probably be heard from the other side of the compound but you don't care at the moment.

okay, definitely got a soft spot for him. i mean, c'mon! he's like a ridiculously good looking teddy bear, we need that in our life [y/n]. we're keeping him.

You smile and let your head fall against his side as he keeps his hand wrapped around your shoulders. He smiles when he feels your head against him, happy to see that you're starting to slowly get comfortable around him. You both end up outside in the main yard where you all were later on today before Negan came to collect you and you blush at the memory of what happened in your room afterwards.

yeah, that's a thing now... what the hell is going on with you? i mean, your life's always been messy as shit but damn! that's not messy, that's fucked up.

"If Negan catches you touching his girl like that, you do realize he's gonna chop your dick off?" a female voice snaps out of your thoughts.

"She ain't his, she's a worker here." Randall answers back with a protective tone.

"No fucking way, seriously?" the woman asks, looking at you.

You slowly nod your head and carefully look at the woman sitting at the table with the other men; she has dark hair which she's wearing in two distinct braids, clear brown eyes, a really pretty dark skin and she's wearing ripped denim blue jeans with a simple white shirt which has a few marks of old dry blood here and there. She's intimidatingly beautiful.

"Y-yeah, I uh- I just work for him, nothing else. No o-offense but I really don't want anything to do with his harem bullshit. Sorry, shouldn't have cursed."

She lets out a small laugh and gets up from her sit at the table to come greet you, her hand waiting for yours and you immediately grab it to shake it as she gives you a smile, "It's really cool to meet you, I'm Faith."

"Nice to meet you Faith, I'm [y/n]."

"I don't mean to rude, at all, but, like, how are you not one of Negan's bitches? Sorry about the language but I don't really have any other words to describe those parasites."

"H-he asked me but- I declined, I- That's not what I do, I want to earn my keep. I can't just sit around all day and wait for things to happen."

"I love you already, kiddo." she turns around and look at the men sitting at the table, "Hey, scoot over you pricks, let the girl have a sit."

And they actually do, they make room for you and you can already tell Faith and you are gonna get along just fine. You take a sit next to her, in front of Connor and Randall completes the table as he comes sit next to you, a smile on his face.

ugh, sitting on a wooden bench with bare thighs isn't the brightest idea [y/n], you're gonna get splinters in your ass.

"You're so pretty, it's insane. Look at that face, good Lord, girl. You're seriously making me sloppy." she says with a small laugh as she hands you a beer that you politely decline it, the smell of it alone making you sick.

thanks mom...

"Hey, you're alright?" Faith asks, spotting discomfort on your face and slight sadness as memories of your abusive mother come running back to you.

"Y-yeah, I'm okay, really. Thanks for the concern though, that's really sweet."

"Of course, honey, we have to be here for each other. It's important, especially in those times."

"You're preaching, Faith." an amused feminine voice points out with a laugh.

"Fuck off, Arat. [Y/n], this bitch over there is Arat, she's awful." Faith introduce the other woman with a laugh, clearly joking.

"Yeah, I'm a real bitch." she laughs and comes to greet you, slightly pushing Connor on the side for her hand to reach yours, "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Arat. I seriously thought all the women here were- well- y'know."

"Hell no, there's more of us, fighting and being our awesome selves." Arat says, smiling proudly.

"Damn, Arat, your ass is literally in my fucking face right now. I mean, shit, if you want me just say so, don't put your ass on my fucking face, it's fucking rude."

"Connor, you fuck, I swear to God." she tries to sound serious for a minute but ends up cracking up as well as Connor.

"So, honey, you actually cleaned the whole damn armory, uh? I'm sorry I told Simon about you being in there, I didn't know you were one of us workers, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, I didn't even know you told Simon you saw me, heck, I didn't even saw you to be honest."

You start to make chit-chat with everyone and being with people is actually not half as bad as you were afraid it'll be, it actually feels good to laugh and talk to regular people. You feel kinda good. Things are going pretty well, at least for now - you've learn not to get your hopes up by now.

Chapter Text

8:00 PM:

You've skipped yet another meal tonight and you know just how unhealthy it is but you just can't put anything in your stomach, it feels like your body is gonna reject everything you'll give to it anyway so, what's the point?

the point is you didn't eat anything today nor yesterday and your body is trying to recover from all the shit you've put it through and it can't fucking do that if you don't fucking feed it properly... any questions?

You let out a deep sigh and quickly put an awfully fake smile on your face when you hear Connor calling after you.

He reaches you, completely out of breath from running after you but with a genuine smile on his face, "[Y/n]! Shit, hold up-" he bends forwards a small bit, catching his breath, "Jesus! I think I'm dying, boo."

You let out a small laugh, smiling at him, "You're such a drama queen, y'know that?"

"Whaaat? How dare you! I'm so shocked right now, like, bish, do you even realize that I could have, like, broke my ankle or some shit running like that, oh my goooosh, you're, like, the worst." he says with an awful teenage girl voice, making you cringe and laugh at the same time.

"Being around you is so freaking embarrassing, Connor."

"You love me." he says with a big smile, teasing you, "Anyways! You wanna go to the break room? I mean, like, at the party? It's shitty and it's seriously just people getting wasted and talking shit, but, it's some kind of distraction for us... I guess."

"I dunno Connor... I-I'm not much for- Well- Y'know, just, being stuck in a room with a bunch of drunk people doesn't really appeal to me."

"Okay, how 'bout this; you come with me, just to see, yeah? And you can run the fuck away the second you feel like it's too much, I promise, no questions asked, no arguing, you'll be able to leave whenever you want. Deal?"

You look at him for a quick second and slowly nod your head yes, you trust him for some reason, he's been really nice to you so far. He smiles at that and carefully grabs your hand, leading you around the compound and you end up going up a bunch of stairs which lead to the break room the party is taking place in but there's also the infirmary on this floor.

Connor leads you into the room full of people already and gives you a reassuring look before leaning down a bit to face you, "Okay, the music is shit, the alcohol tastes like piss - but it does the job so no one complains - and there's a lot of hillbillies in this room which is, I'll admit it, real fucking scary... So, yeah... Friday nights are fucking awful, darling."

You let out a small laugh and look around you when you spot a big window in the room and walk quickly towards it, curious to see what you'll be able to see from here, a tiny smile appearring on your face when you see Dwight outside.

he's on watch tonight... it's freezing out there.

"Damn, don't you look mighty fine, princess."

You jump in surprise when you hear Negan's voice behind you, scaring the crap out of you. You slowly turn around to face him but directly look down at the floor, not wanting him to see just how red your cheeks are but, as always, he doesn't seem pleased with your demeanor. 

"Yeah, you look fuckin' adorable, baby doll." he pauses and gets closer to you, way too close for comfort, before whispering in your ear, "Thing is, only I am supposed to be able to see you when you look like that, baby. I can't have those horny fucks seeing your pretty lil' body like this, fuck that. Fuckin' shit, you already look hot with disgusting clothes on, covered in blood and guts, and it pisses me the fuck off to know that there isn't a damn fuckin' thing I can do to fuckin' keep people from looking at you, I mean, shit, doll, you're so fucking beautiful... The point is; I can't have you walking around in shit that only I am supposed to see you in, we clear?"

"B-but... these are pajamas Negan... I-I mean- I don't-" you let a frustrated sigh, frustrated at the fact that you just can't complete a proper sentence whenever you speak to him.

"Yeah, and just like I fuckin' said, you look fuckin' hot as hell in torn and fuckin' gross clothes so just imagine what you're achieving when you're wearing pretty, clean, lil' clothes, darling... Let's just say that you're fuckin' lucky that I somehow manage to keep myself under control 'cause otherwise I'll already be fuckin' you raw on that damn pool table."

You feel your stomach tightening at his filthy words, your cheeks burning and you loudly swallow the spit stuck in your throat. You hear him laugh lowly and he slowly walks away to go towards the infamous pool table he just mentioned, inviting people in the room to play with him and some come running to him, you don't know if it's because they're scared of what he might do if he's left hanging or if they're just trying to get on his good side.

either way, it's pathetic...

You hear really girly and quite frankly really exaggerated giggles in the room and slightly turn your head just to spot a couch filled with a bunch of fully grown women, giggling like preteen girls.

jesus fucking christ, the cringe is real tonight...

You quickly understand who- or what- they are and you feel sick just hearing their annoying laughs and voices. It seems like they all have loud, obnoxious, high-pitched voices and you feel like punching them in the face... with a chair... and set them on fire... and throw them in a pit... yeah.

"Ladies, no disrespect or anythin' but, would ya pipe the fuck down for me, please?" Negan asks them -somewhat- politely with a cocky smile on his lips.

And, surely enough, they all giggle and apologize to Negan and he gives them a quick wink before resuming his game. After this you feel like you're about to throw up and you actually have to put your hand on your mouth to keep yourself from doing so.

You go to the pool table where Connor is playing with Negan and some other men, avoiding Negan and walking as far away from him as possible, feeling like you're gonna throw up or worst, punch him, if he talks or touches you, and you quickly make your way to Connor and get on your tiptoes to reach his ear, your hands resting on his shoulder for balance.

"I'm going, thanks for trying though, that was very sweet of you and I truly appreciate it, Connor."

You really want to give him a kiss on the cheek but you don't risk it, afraid to create unneeded drama, as you already feel Negan's eyes shooting you down from the other side of the pool table. 

You quickly get out of the room and literally run down the stairs, running as fast possible outside, to the main yard, feeling like you're completely unable to breathe.

You're out of breath when you finally get outside and your body lunches forwards, folding in two, your hands on your knees and, finally, you feel it. You throw up on the ground, missing your white slippers from only a few centimeters before breaking down in tears. You're tired, you feel vulnerable and the urge to hurt yourself is just unbearable by now. 

"Shit, [y/n]. Hey, what's wrong?"

well shit! that's just great, yeah, why the fuck not! come on over and look at how much of a fucking mess I am, great fucking time for all the family.

You let out a loud sob and your body starts to shake violently. You're too tired, everything hurts so bad for you right now and it's perfectly understandable when you've been though all the terrible things that you've been though but you don't seem to be able to acknowledge that fact, you would with someone else but, with you? You can't. At least not for now.

"D-Dwight- I- My t-tummy hurts."

Your stomach is seriously burning you because of the acid that just came through and out of it when you threw up, you didn't eat anything in two days so all you threw up was bile mixed with small residues of food you've had four days ago. You can taste blood in your mouth and you feel like screaming in frustration.

"Come with me [y/n], I'll take you to the infirmary, yeah?"

"No!" you quickly stop him, "P-please... C-can I just s-stay with you, p-please?"

"You're gonna fucking freeze out here [y/n] and you- you just fucking threw up, something's going on with you and-"

"Please, Dwight." your voice is so low, he almost doesn't catch that, but when he does, he can tell that something's wrong and that it doesn't have everything to do with the state that your body's in. It's definitely a factor, he knows that, but there's more to it.

"Okay. You can stay with me if you want to."

You don't really think about it and hug him tightly, burying your face in his chest, mumbling a "thank you" into it. He's taken aback by your display of affection but he quickly shakes it off and carefully wrap his arms around your smaller, shaking body, "No problem, kiddo."

A few minutes later you're sitting on the hood of a big truck parked near the fence, Dwight leaning against it as he keeps an attentive eye out for any movements outside but you can tell that his mind is somewhere else and you're pretty damn sure you know where -or on who- it is and it seriously pisses you off.

"She doesn't deserve you to miss or dwell on her, Dwight."

"Excuse me?" he asks, looking up at you, clearly confused at your student outburst.

"Sherry, your ex wife? I really don't want to hurt you, Dwight, I truly don't, but you deserve better. She fucked you over, she's a fucking coward, she hid from her responsibilities and ran to Negan's sides when you needed her the most, who does that? Not someone who truly loves and cares for you, Dwight."

"I-it's not like that [y/n], it's complicated-"

"Like hell it is!" you jump off the truck and go to stand in front of him, your body still shaking, "You did what was best for both of you... I mean, the three of you, her sister was with you too, right?" he slowly nod his head yes, "You did what you did because you loved her and she threw you into the fucking pit when it back fired. That's not how this shit works, okay? I know what I'm talking about, I grew up with people like her and you know what I call that kind of person? Fucking parasites! They just take and take but they'll never give you shit, not even a small thank you 'cause they don't give a shit, Dwight! They just don't. I saw her at the party, she was wearing an ugly ass green dress, painting her freaking nails with her friends, giggling like a moron at absolutely nothing while you're out there, working in the cold, paying her fucking debt! How is that fair? How's that love Dwight?" there's tears in your eyes, your vision is blurry and you can barely seem him, you're truly upset about what happened to him, it's unfair and he seems like a decent guy to you.

He lets out a nervous laugh and scratches the back of his neck nervously before looking at you, he doesn't seem angry at all and you're glad that he isn't 'cause he could've get pissed when you threw that harsh reality in his face, "Why- why do you care, [y/n]?" he asks, genuinely curious, not at all sarcastic or trying to be rude.

"Because you're hurting and it's unfair. You're not a bad person, Dwight. She got you disfigured and ran into another man's arms, the same man that burned half of your face. It's just- There's so many bad things happening, you know? Why shouldn't you be able to enjoy the good ones because you're too busy thinking and missing a person that's far from deserving to be missed, let alone loved."

"I'm not a bad person? Are you kidding me? I'm the reason why Negan is in your life right now, I dragged you into this shit- I could've let you run away after you punched Simon but I got scared they might shoot you and- Fuck- I fucked it up anyway, y'know? You're still alive but- I mean... Look around us, what kind of life is that? I mean, I don't mean to sound ungrateful y'know 'cause we do have a roof above our heads and food in our stomachs but- At what cost, y'know? I'm not a good person, [y/n], I'm a killer, I'm fucked up too."

"I don't believe that there's such a thing as a bad person Dwight, just- Just good people who do bad things sometimes and- It doesn't have to define you, you shouldn't let it define you."

He's about talk when Randall's voice interrupts him, "Hey, [y/n]! There you are, shit, you scared the livin' hell outta me, princess!"

"R-Randall? What- What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing. Sorry if I'm interrupting something important, I just-"he looks between you and Dwight, stopping a few feet away from the two of you, "I've been look all over the place for you and- Shit, baby girl, you're shaking like a leaf in high wind."

He's right, you are shaking like crazy, your lips are turning purple-ish, your veins are slowly starting to show through your skin and you can't feel your body anymore, the cold numbed you completely.

"Randall, take her to her room, she needs to get some serious rest and warm."

"Yeah, f'course man, you need anything?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks though."

"No problem. C'mere, baby girl." Randall coos as he carefully walks to you and grabs your waist before lifting your shaking body up against his and you let him. You're cold and tired, your belly still hurts, tears are still threatening to escape your eyes and your head hurts like a bitch.

He wraps his arms around your small frame before walking back inside, stopping to look down at the spot you threw up on a few minutes ago, he softly kisses your temple and heads inside the compound, heading towards your bedroom to put you to bed.

Carefully, he opens your room's door, trying not to make too much noise for the people that are already asleep in the other rooms. He walks into the bedroom without a word and closes the door behind him before heading towards your bed. He gently sits you down on the mattress and slips your slippers off your feet, before lifting the warm blankets covering the mattress you're on.

"Alright, come here [y/n], you need to get warm." you listen to him and crawl under the thick blankets, letting your head rest on a soft pillow before looking up at him with wide eyes, "Better?"

"Y-yes. Thank you, Randall."

"Hey, it's no problem at all, little one, really."

He gives you a warm smile before carefully leaning down to kiss your forehead, making you close your eyes.

"Sleep tight, [y/n]. My room's right next to yours, don't hesitate to come knocking if you ne-"

"Stay." you blur out before your brain can catch up with your mouth, "P-Please?"

He looks at you with a mix of surprise and confusion in his eyes as yours start to fill up with tears once more, a single one rolling down your cheek before you can do anything to keep it from happening.

You don't want to be alone, you're scared, it's been so long since you've had to sleep in a room all by yourself. When you're out there, there's always the sound of the dead roaming around and you got so used to it that you're scared to sleep in complete silence now.

"You-You're sure, [y/n]?"

"Please, I-I can't- I don't- I'm scared... Randall, I'm scared." a choked up sob escapes you, making your chest hurt. Your body is shaking and your migraine is getting worse as sobs keep on ripping their way out of your mouth.

"Hey, shh, it's okay, [y/n], you're okay. Don't worry, if you're sure you don't mind my company, I'll stay with you, I promise."


He carefully kicks his sneakers off his feet before taking his shirt off, looking at you to make sure that you're okay with him being shirtless but he's not able to make eye contact with you since your head is buried in your pillow, violent sobs leaving your mouth, the pillow beneath your head muffling the sounds and absorbing your tears.

You look up when you hear him moving around and see him dragging a chair next to your bed and he's about to settle when you quickly grab his wrist, his head snapping your way, "No, c-come in bed with me, please?"

"I- I'm perfectly fine with that honey but I- I just don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You won't - Please?"

He slowly gets away from the chair and carefully climbs into the bed next to you, moving slowly and carefully like he's trying to approach a scared animal. Everything seems to fall into place when he finally gets under the blanket, part of you feel part for having him sleep in his jeans but you also know that you wouldn't be able to handle him not wearing them while behind so close to you. 

On an impulse, you shimmy on the mattress to get closer to him and curl yourself up against his tattooed chest when he rolls on his right side to look at you. With a small smile, he welcomes your embrace and even brings you closer to him, his right arm draped over your hip and his left one resting beneath your body, circling it entirely, while he keeps his left hand planted in the middle of your back to keep you close. He gently presses a careful and soft kiss at the top of your head, his left hand running up and down your back to try to reassure and calm you down.

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay, [y/n]. You're safe, I promise." he gently whispers into your hair.

"I-I'm scared, Randall."

"I know princess, I know. And it's okay to be but, I promise you that, you're safe here, I swear."

You don't answer him, you just push yourself further into his chest, his left hand settling on the back of your head as he tries to get you to relax a bit, "You need to sleep [y/n], okay? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, I promise, but you need to rest."

You slowly nod your head, feeling your eyes get heavy with exhaustion and you can't fight off the urge to sleep anymore.




6:00 AM //

Your eyes slowly open as you let out a small yaw and you feel Randall's chest vibrating against your head.

"Well, that's the cutest noise I've ever heard."

"Morning to you too."

"Mornin', [y/n], slept well?"

"Yes," you slowly sit up on the mattress, stretching, "thanks to you."

"Any time, [y/n]., I mean it. Hell, I can't recall the last time I've slept that well ever since everything went down."

"Same here." you look at him and back down at your hands, "I-I'm sorry if you felt forced to-"

"Hey, I didn't feel forced to do shit, okay, [y/n]? I stayed 'cause I care about you and I wanted to, end of the story. It wasn't charity or pity."

"W-why are you here, Randall?"

"I just told you I-"

"No, I mean- Why are you here?"

"Oh..." he lets out a dry chuckle, a small frown forming on your forehead as he seems to think your question through, "Well, didn't have much of a choice, it was either working for him here or dying so... Y'know?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." he lets out a small laugh, "You need to stop apologizing for shit you're not to blame for, okay?"

"Sorry- Shoot, sorry I- Oh c'mon!"

He laughs and gets out of the warm bed with a low grunt, "Holy balls, I regret my decision to leave this bed."

"Sucker." you whisper with a small smile.

He turns around to give you a mocked shocked expression when he catches your whisper, "Oh, so that's how it's gonna be, uh?"

"Yeah, looks like it, I'm afraid."

"Alright, missy." you see his eyes glint with mischief as he walks back to your bed, making you squeal and you quickly disappear under the blankets, giggling like a child, "Oh, no, I don't think so, lil' lady."

You swear you can hear the smirk on his lips as he speaks and it only serves to send your nerve reeling. With a chuckle, he lifts the covers off of your body, exposing you to him, and you let out a small, high-pitched scream as he bends down to grab your waist, shoving you on his shoulder, "Who's the sucker now, uh?"

"You are! R-Randall- Put me down- N-now, Randall!"


"N-never, you suck. And I don't negotiate with terrorists."

He laughs at your words before throwing you back on the bed, climbing on top of you before assaulting your body with tickles and you completely break below him, "Randall! D-don't- Please- S-stop- Randall, I-I-m gonna p-pee myself- Fuck, stop!"

"Apologize to me, [y/n]." he demands once again, trying to make his voice sound authoritative but it's hard to when he's grinning like an idiot at the sight of you giggling and squirming beneath him.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay?"

He stops and smiles down at you, proud of himself, "See, easy."

You shove him off of you, walking towards the door of your room, looking back at him with mischief in your eyes, "Sorry that you're such a prick."

You quickly open the door and run for the showers, knowing damn well that he won't follow you there, respecting your boundaries.

"Yeah, run you lil' shit." he calls out from behind you, standing at the doorway of your bedroom, "You'll have to come out of that shower at some point and you'll pay for that the second you do, princess." you don't have to look to know that he's smiling like an idiot and, when you do look back, you see him leaving your room whilst putting his t-shirt back on and he flashes you a wink when your eyes meet, chuckling when you pull your tongue, before walking to his own bedroom.

You let out a giggle as you walk in the showers and you steps towards one of the cabins to take your shower before Faith's voice interrupts you, "Hey there, sweetpea! How you doin'?"

"Hi Faith, I'm good, how are you?"

"Slightly shit faced but, other than that? Pretty good."

You both laugh and enter your own cabin to take your shower.

A few minutes pass and, after a really interesting conversation with Faith through the showers' walls, you finally find the courage to turn the warm water deliciously hitting your body off. You sigh and reach for your pajamas, putting them back on before stepping out of the shower. After brushing your teeth, you give Faith a small smile and wave at her before heading back to your room to get changed.

Once you get there, you let out yet another deep sigh and open your locked wooden chest to get Jesus' clothes out of it, putting them on.

"Yeah, that's more like it." you say, smiling, happy to be back in Jesus' clothes.

You tug the black AC/DC shirt in your lose and torn denim jeans before rolling the pants' legs for them to reach your ankles and put your black combat boots on, a sigh of relief escaping your plump lips when you straighten back up.

Last night was the first night since the outbreak that you wore actual pajamas instead of sleeping in your clothes and you're not too comfortable with that yet, you're just so used to sleeping with your clothes on in case you need to move quick.

one step at the time [y/n]... one step at the time.

You take a deep breath, take your backpack and your bow out of the wooden chest before shoving your pajamas in it and locking it again. You let out a deep sigh knowing that you're gonna have to go and have breakfast really soon, something you dread more than anyone ever should.

you don't have to eat a whole meal, okay. it's okay, just take a small bite of something at least, you have to.

Just when you're about to walk out of your room, a knock on your door stops you from doing so, "Yes?"

The door opens and your breath gets stuck in your throat when you see Negan's head peaking inside the room.

"Morning, sweet thing." he greets you with that smirk of his, his eyes roaming over your body, making you squirm on your feet as you suddenly feel naked even through your layers of clothing.

"M-morning, Negan." you hate that your voice comes out as a timid whisper and the chuckle he lets out doesn't help much either.

He gets inside the room and closes the door behind him, taking a few steps forwards, Lucille resting on his shoulder. You take a look at him, he's dressed as usual; leather jacket even though it's warm outside, a clean white shirt, black jeans and combat boots, the only thing he's not wearing today is his red scarf.

"How d'you sleep?"

"G-good... Y-you?"

He looks at you for a solid minute before leaning against your door, you can't read his emotions and, you won't lie, it kind of scares you a small bit, "Am I gonna have to fuck you in front of the whole compound for you to understand that you don't get to go to any other men but me, princess?"

Your head drops down and your hands start to shake as you start to pull on your fingers. You're completely lost, "I-I don't- I-"

You hear him laugh and your cheeks are starting to burn again, "Listen doll, Randall's a good kid-" he pauses and comes close to you, practically crushing you against him as he sandwiched you between a nearby wall and his solid body, "Don't make me kill him, baby girl. He's actually pretty damn useful, I need him alive, am I fuckin' clear?"

is he fucking serious?

"Fuck off." you groan out before you can stop it, consequences be damned.

"Ex-fucking-cuse me?" he asks, his head tilted to the side, looking and sounding like you've just kick his dog.

"You're full of crap, Negan. If something happens to Randall- If you kill him? It'll be all on you." you straighten up and push yourself away from the wall and closer to Negan's body, "I'm not yours, Negan, get the fuck over it already." you spit out with a snarl.

"You were saying otherwise yesterday if I recall, princess." 

He's right, this asshole is actually right, and you fucking hate it, it pushes you over the edge and you can't stop the venom from flowing out of your mouth. "Look, Negan, I mean no disrespect to your deceased wife but- goddammit! I'm not her, I'm not just gonna roll over and accept the fact that you literally want everything that moves and breathes!" you shove him away from you though he doesn't move all that much, you still manage to put a little bit of distance between the two of you, "Last time, you said that you didn't know why she pulled up with you even though you're unfaithful. Well, she fucking pulled up with your shit because she loved you, 'cause that's what love does to you, makes you completely blind and brain dead. You were loved Negan! Do you know how rare it is to be loved by someone? The only person that ever loved me died and left me all alone, I- I can't Negan- I can't play this game- I can't - I don't want to."

You expect him to have an outburst, to hit you, even bash your head in right there and then, but he doesn't say anything, he doesn't move, he just looks at you and you know that whatever's gonna happen now is gonna be much worse than him beating you to death.

"What? What did you expect, uh?" he snarls, once again closing the small distance you've manage to put between you and him, your body trapped between his and a damn wall once again, "You thought that I'll fuckin' change shit for you? Now that's fuckin' stupidity right there. It doesn't fuckin' work like that, doll, grow the fuck up. It ain't my fuckin' fault if you never had the balls to put an end to your mom's abusive shit and it sure as shit ain't my fuckin' problem to deal with the aftermath, you're not my fucking problem. I'm not looking for a charity case to adopt right about fuckin' now so I suggest that you get over your little "abused orphan that no one fuckin' loves and gives a fuck about" syndrome 'cause I don't have time for this shit, no one fucking does." his words hit you so hard you can feel your chest tightening as you struggle to get air in your lungs, "What? You really think Randall gives two shits about you? Nah, the boy just wants to get in your pants, grow the fuck up, stop being so fucking naive. Hell, I bet you even though that I gave a damn about you at some point and that's why you're so fucking pissed, 'cause you know damn well that I fucking don't, all I want from you is sex, not conversations or fucking feelings."

And, just like that, he leaves your room, slamming the door behind him.

"abused orphan that no one fucking loves and gives a fuck about"... "i'm not looking for a charity case to adopt"

You can't breathe, your whole body is shaking and your vision is blurry with hot tears. You can't fight it anymore and let the sobs you've been holding in come out and they're so violent it hurt your throat and knocks the wind out of you. You've been hurt before but that's beyond hurting, you can't put words on the pain you're feeling.

You don't know what's real or not anymore, you start to seriously doubt Randall's attentions, you start to doubt your own emotions, you start to wonder if you're not actually overreacting when it comes to your past, if Negan isn't actually right and it hurts just to think about it that way. The only person who could fuck with your head, make you doubt and question everything you felt and thought was your mother.

Luckily, your old neighbor, which also happened to be your best friend, truly helped you to stop doubting perfectly valid things such as your emotions, she always told you that; "no matter what anyone says, no one gets to tell you how you should feel or react to a certain thing. It's your emotions, they belong to you, they make you who you are so you should always embrace them and let them happen, let them be, they're here for a reason." and it was so hard for you to accept that when you grew up with a mother who kept on telling you that whatever you felt wasn't valid nor justified but you slowly were getting there and, right now? It's feel like Negan just destroyed all of the really hard and tiring work you've been doing on yourself for years and it hurts.

It hurts that one single person is capable to crush you like that, it hurts that one single individual can make you feel like you're nothing, like what you've been put through was justified, it hurts that someone can just destroy someone else's fragile foundations with no remorse whatsoever, it just hurts.

how are we supposed to heal if people keep poking at our wounds? this is so fucked up...

Negan has no idea just how much his words are about to change you for the worst and neither do you.

You've come so far, you've tried so goddamn hard and he crushed all of it in one small second. He destroyed all of the efforts you've put towards an healthier future you, he's fucking destroyed the little self-esteem you've been able to build for yourself with broken pieces. 

You're not sure how you ended up here, in this situation, you're not sure what you expected from him either... All you know is that, you didn't expect him to spit on you like that after everything that happened between the two of you in such a short amount of time, damn, you gave him your first kiss, your first orgasm and you opened up to him when you felt the most vulnerable.

You let out a nervous laugh through your tears, trying to snap out of the state that you're in but you can't, you can't bring yourself back down to the present, you feel numb and everything just happens so fast. You come back to your senses as a sharp pain shoots through your body and you look down, knowing exactly what you're about to see but you just have to see it and, there it is, your left arm is covered in sharp, deep, cuts and fresh blood is pouring out and dripping down on the carpet below you but you don't care, you're too out of it to do so.

just- just go look for a sweatshirt to wear or- just- something with long sleeves [y/n]... he wasn't worth it, honey.

You ignore the sting of the cuts on your forearm and head towards your dresser to quickly put a grey hoodie out of it, it's way too large for you but you don't care, you actually like it better that way, you never liked your curves no matter how many praises you get about them.

You hiss in pain as you put your left arm into the hoodie and quickly put it over your head before putting your messy hair into an even messier bun on top of your head.

"Okay, put your smiley face on, [y/n], you know the drill." and, with that, you walk out of your room, a smile on your face as you walk through the corridor to get to the cafeteria but stop when you spot Randall walking out of the room, his head low, "Randall?"

He slightly turns his head towards you but you can't see it because he's still looking down at the ground so you decide to get closer to him, "Hey, princess."

"A-are you okay?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Randall, look at me- Please?"

You hear him let out an heavy sigh and, finally, he slowly brings his head up to look at you and tears roll down your face as you spot multiple bruises and bloody wounds, there's blood still oozing out of fresh cuts on his face. You take a few steps back as a sob rips through you and leaves your mouth.

"I-I did this- Randall- Randall I-I'm sorry."

"You didn't do shit, [y/n], he-"

"Oh my God- R-Randall, you-your face- Randall, your face."

"Hey-" he takes a small step towards you but you take three back.

"D-don't- I'm- I'm so sorry, Randall. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Yes! Yes it is, of course it is! Look at your face, my God, Randall- Look what I did- I-I did this- I did this to you."

Your ears are ringing and you feel like you're about to pass out but, without even realizing that you've been walking for a little while now, you end up outside in the main yard where Negan's men and Negan himself are getting ready to head out on the supply run that you're supposed to go on as well today.

You look around and don't even realize that Negan is watching you from a distance, he knows he fucked up big time and he didn't mean any of what he said to you, he just wanted to hurt you because you shoved reality down his throat and he didn't appreciate the taste.

Your small fists are clenched and it looks like you're about to go on a rampage and you actually are about to do just that, at least that was your plan, until someone's firm grip on your right wrist keeps you from going anywhere near anyone.

"You're not doing this. I'm not about to let you put yourself in serious danger just to pay for something you're not even responsible for, it's not fucking happening." Randall roughly whispers in your hear.

"Let go of me."

He harshly turns you around and presses you flush against him, kissing the top of your head, "It's not your fault, [y/n]. I'm not about to sit there and watch you punish yourself for something you don't have anything to do with."

"I'm so sorry Randall. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, God, I'm so sorry." you cry against his chest, feeling guilty as all hell.

"What are you sorry about exactly, uh? I got my ass kicked, so what? Ain't the first damn time, sure as shit ain't gonna be the last, shit happens." he tries, hoping to get even a small amused huff out of you but it's like his words don't even register for you.

"R-Randall- I-"

"Alright you sorry fucks! Get your sorry asses in the trucks and let's get this fuckin' show on the road!" Negan orders with a shit eating grin on his face.

You get out of Randall's grip quickly and walk towards one of the big trucks before you get literally dragged on the side and you know it's Negan when you spot the leather covered hand holding your wirst, "You're ridin' with daddy today, baby doll." he harshly whispers in your ear like he's got any right to be pissed.

You don't fight him, you can't, your whole body is numb and you're exhausted. You can feel blood dripping down your arm, soaking the soft fabric of the inside of your sleeve, making it stick to your skin and you know that the only thing that keeps everyone else from knowing what's happening to you is the tight ends of the hoodie's sleeves and because of how thick the piece of clothing is which keeps the blood from showing on the outside as your blood soaks the inside of the left sleeve.

Your head aches and spins from the blood loss and the anger you're feeling towards Negan as he acts as if there's nothing wrong and he didn't say what he said to you just a few minutes ago isn't helping with your blood pressure or your headache.

"a charity case" "no one gives a shit" "grow the fuck up"

He drags you into his truck, the same truck that dragged you into this hell of a place, put you into your seat, moving you around as he pleases like you're some kind of rag doll before closing the door on your side and getting behind the wheel, honking to signal Simon to start the engine of his truck and, as soon as he does, the gates open and Negan gets on the road first, Simon in the middle and Dwight is closing the road on his bike.

Negan puts some really old and kinda crappy country music on to fill the heavy silence there is between the two of you and whistles along to the song.

that man really has fucking issues.




12:00 PM   //

All the trucks come to a stop when Negan orders them to park into a small town after hours of driving and you quickly jump out of the truck as it stops, trying to get away from him as fast as possible, you felt like crying the whole time he's been driving you around and you know that if he talks to you even once you'll end up tearing up again and you're sick of crying because of him.

"Alright! You all know the fucking drill, grab whatever the fuck you find and bring it back here, keep your fuckin' eyes peeled and stay together, you got that or do I have to fucking repeat that shit?"

They all answer with a "Got it, boss." and they start to make small groups before going inside the abandoned houses sitting around as Negan and Dwight stay put and as for you, you barely make it around the truck, a cough grabs their attention as they turn around to look at you.

"Move your ass, get to it." Negan barks at you and, if it wasn't for the fact that you can barely stand right now, you'd have punch his face off and send it to the fucking moon for speaking to you like that. 

"Negan, I don't think she's feeling so w-"

A walker interrupts him and, as he draws his gun out and Negan gets a tighter grip on Lucille, they both frown when they see that the re-animated corpse pays no mind to them and heads directly for you, the smell of the blood pouring out of your fresh wounds luring it to you like a moth to a flame.

You struggle to keep your eyes open as you slowly reach for your knife but you're not fast enough and the walker is on top of you in a fraction of a second. You manage to fight it off and finally succeed to shove the blade of your weapon in its right eye, stabbing the walker multiple times around this area, making a mess, as you find yourself not being able to stop, you keep stabbing the limp, dead, body lying beneath yours, taking all of your anger, sadness and frustration out on it.

"What?!" you ask through your clenched jaw as you look up at Negan and Dwight which are still standing here, watching you.

You slowly get back on your feet and quickly lean down as you throw up yet again, right next the dead body lying on the ground.

"What the fuckin' shit-"

You look down and see what there's blood on the ground, a lot of it, and it's all yours, you just threw blood up but you don't have time to dwell on it when a giant, gloved, hand comes down on your mouth, covering it.

"Well, hello there, darlin'." the owner of the hand covering your mouth speaks directly next to your ear, "I'm counting on you not to throw up in my fucking hand." you panic as you don't recognize the voice behind you and you hear multiple footsteps creeping up behind you as well, "The name's Jason, nice to meet you guys. You all look like a bunch of happy assholes but I'm afraid that I'm gonna have to take a bit of your happiness away."

"You do realize that you're not walking out of this alive, do you?" you hear Negan say and you decide to open your eyes.

You see Dwight with his gun out as well as Simon who's now behind Negan and there's almost a bunch of Negan's men standing there, guns in hand, you spot Randall and Connor and you see panic in their eyes as they load their guns, ready to open fire.

"Such a pretty thing you got there," Jason declares and you can hear the smirk he's wearing in the tone of his voice, his mouth way to close to your ear for comfort, "I think I'm gonna bring her back home. What d'ya think, baby doll?"

You try to kick him with your feet but you're still losing a lot of blood and your body is practically limp by now which means that whatever you want doesn't really matter at the moment because this man is gonna be able to do just about anything to you anyways with your body being in the state it's in.

"Oh, my bad darlin', my hand is on your pretty little mouth, here," his hand leaves your mouth and you gasp for air before dropping your head down, exhaustion draining any fight out of you, "go ahead now, tell me what you want." he insists but no sound comes out of your mouth, "Uh? What's that? I don't hear a no, what about you guys?" his men's chuckles are all around you and you feel even sicker now.

"Let go of her and I might let you live, don't get your hopes up though, shithead." Negan says with a menacing smile.

"Easy there, I just want the girl. I got plenty of women back home but I need a lil princess too, y'know?" he pauses and looks down at you "And, I mean, shit, look at masterpiece you got there man, she yours?"

"Yes, she fucking is." Negan answers through gritted teeth.

"Really now? You don't come across has the kind of man that'd be right for her."

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, kid?"

"Chill, just trying to get some info, that's all."

Your heartbeat is getting faster and your whole body starts to shake against the stranger's body, you don't know what to do, you're getting dizzy and you feel tears running down on your face and they just keep coming.

"Well, I'd stay a lil while longer and make chitchat but I have to take my lil princess back to my fucking castle, plus, to be perfectly honest here, you guys are kinda pricks, y'know? You should work on that."

With that, he wraps you up in his arms and lifts you up to hold you against his chest and nonchalantly walks away as gunshots start to ring through your ears. He just walks calmly, holding you tightly against him and you really want to kick around and get out of his grip, show some sign of life but you can't, it feels like you're slowly dying in this man's arms, everything goes black as you're gently shoved into the backseat of a car, your body lying down and the last thing you remember is hearing this Jason dude's voice ringing through your ears.

Back on the road, Negan gives one last swing into a man's head and groans as he turns around to harshly grab the last standing man from the rival group, dragging him into the back of Simon's truck.

"Here's what's gonna happen now, we're driving this piece of shit back to the Sanctuary and beat some info out of his stupid fucking head, I'll get rid of him when I'll know what I need to fucking know. Simon, you're coming back with me and Dwight, you pick some men and you go have a look around the area, see if you can find anymore of these pricks, right fucking now!" 

He's pissed, he's beyond pissed, he's fucking scared. Someone just fucking stole his princess from him, someone just literally took you from him and the last thing he said to you was some pissy, unnecessarily rude bullshit. He looks around to look at all the dead bodies laying on the floor, there's blood everywhere; blood, guts and exploded heads.

"C'mon, boss, the sooner we get this asshole to talk, the sooner [y/n]'ll be safe and sound." Simon says, walking towards his truck. He's worried as well, he actually really likes you, he likes the fact that you're not scared to talk back to him, he loves your attitude but most importantly he truly respects you.

"Fucking shit darling, daddy's gonna kill some dumb fucks and he'll come get you, you just fucking hang in there." Negan whispers to himself before going inside the truck but he changes his mind and tells Simon that he'll ride in the back with his new friend as he doesn't want to waste any time on getting directions that'll lead him to you.

He swiftly swings Lucille back on his shoulder, she's covered in fresh blood, bits of flesh and guts, as he composes himself, trying to look like he's not about to lose his fucking mind after what just happened. He swiftly opens the giant back doors of the white truck, getting inside as his new captive curls himself into a corner, Negan smiles and closes the doors behind him, banging in the inside of the vehicle to signal Simon to get going and the truck starts moving as he slowly gets closer to the man cowering in front of him.

"Hi there, I believe I didn't introduce myself properly, so, my name's Negan and this," he says, swinging his bat around, "is Lucille and she's awesome."

Chapter Text

"This is bullshit, D! She's out here, stuck with a fucking psycho and we're out here lookin' underneath the fucking leafs! What the hell! How'd he even get away with her, how the fuck did we let that shit happen?!"

"Calm the fuck down, Connor. Look, man, you're pissed, I get it-" Randall tries to calm him down before Dwight even gets a change to express how he feels about it all.

"Pissed? Nah, man, I ain't pissed, I'm about to go fucking mental! We're fucking armed head to toe but when a random prick shows up and goes for [y/n]? Ain't shit happen, y'all didn't do shit! He had his fucking hands on her, mate! And you pricks didn't do shit about it, not until he fucking walked away oh so fucking casually with [y/n] in his arms, what the fuck?!"

Connor is about to snap once more when Randall pushes him against a nearby tree trunk to keep him still, "Hey, cut it! I'm fucking losing it too over here, okay? But if you want her back, you're gonna have to fucking keep quiet and pay attention to the fucking surroundings, we clear?"

"She's gone, man- She's fucking gone. He fucking took her away from us." Connor whispers with a sad and worried tone no one's ever heard from him before.

"Yeah- he fucking did and that's why we're here, Connor. We'll get her back, no matter what it takes, y'know that."

Connor pushes Randall off of him and looks at him as well as the rest of the men around him, "You saw that shit, you heard that shithead as well as I fucking did, Randall. How can you be so fucking calm, uh? I don't even want to imagine the shit he'll do to her if we don't get there in time, he looked and sure as shit talked like a fucking psychotic rapist, y'all saw the way he was looking at her but you didn't do shit!"

And then, it's complete silence, no one dares to say a word because they know Connor is right. They didn't do anything, they got here too late and they waited for Negan to give the order to shoot but he never did, so they just watched it all happen like idiots.

"Y'all so full of shit. C'mon, let's walk through the fucking woods, we can even sing campfire songs if y'all feel like it. Welcome back to CandyLand, assholes!" Connor spits before heading further into the woods, anger and worry being a dangerous mix on him.





"I'm going to kill you, you know that, right?"

"Well, look who's awake! You're a lil grumpy." Jason says as he looks at you and flashes you a smile through the rear-view mirror, "I get it, I fucking hate getting out of bed too, princess."

You look around and realize that you're in a moving car, lying down on the backseats, your whole body is aching and he's driving with a feral smirk plastered on his face.

what's wrong with people nowadays?

"Stop the fucking car, you prick."

"Language, darling. Such a pretty girl shouldn't let out such mean, ugly words out of her pretty little mouth."

"Get fucked you sorry fuck. You think I give a single shit what you think about my fucking manners? Well, I got news for you, asshole, I couldn't fucking care less... You fucking fuck."

"You're pissed 'cause I took you away from your group? 'Cause if that's what you're giving me attitude for I get i-"

"Shut the fuck up, you don't know shit."

"Goddamn, c'mon, throw me a bone here, girly."

"Oh, you want a bone, uh? How about the bones of my fucking fist breaking your jawbone? Uh, how 'bout that for a fucking bone?"

The car stops violently, lunching you forward but you manage to hold yourself in place. You hear Jason unbuckle his seat-belt and get out of the vehicle, angrily slamming the door behind him, before opening your door quickly and grabbing your wounded forearm to drag you out of the car.

"Let go of me, you sorry fuck!"

You wiggle out of his grip and take your blood covered butterfly knife out of your jeans, pointing the blade right at him.

"Easy there." he coos with a smile that does nothing but make your blood boil to new degrees.

"Easy? Are you fucking kidding me?! You fucking dragged me out here, you've been treating me like a fucking toy! Who the fuck are you and what do you want from me?"

"I'm Jason-"

"Don't play with me, you know damn well I wasn't asking for your fucking I.D."

He lets out a laugh, clearly amused by your attitude but you're not amused at all, you're beyond pissed, you didn't need this shit today, not after what happened with Negan, not with the state your body is in at the moment.

"Like I explained to your boyfriend back there, I just want you to be a part of my little family. We have a shitload of fun, y'know."



"Yeah, I though so, the dude with the baseball bat? He said you were his, but you're not, are you?"

i technically am, actually... i'm pretty sure.


"I'm sure it is." he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Anyways, stop making shit about me, what do you want from me? It's the last time I ask, I'll start piercing holes in your stomach if I have to repeat myself again."

"Damn, you ain't scared of shit, are you? Okay, then," he steps closer to you and you really want to take a step back, run away, scream, but you don't, you don't want to show him any sign of fear or weakness, "I've had my eyes on you for a while now, [y/n], you're just so fucking sexy-"

"What the hell is wrong with you, get away from me, you're a fucking creep."

Negan called you "fucking pretty/sexy/hot" plenty of times but it never sounded creepy coming from him, just flirtatious, nothing more, nothing less. This dude is creeping the shit out of you and he seems to notice.

"D'you have any idea how many times I watched you do your thing out there? You're seriously impressing with that bow of yours-"

You actually start to feel around your body at the mention of your bow, looking for it, when you realize that your backpack and your bow have been abandoned on the spot when Jason took you away from the Saviors.

"Were you stalking me? What the fuck!"

"Eh, I don't like that word, I prefer to call it- Studying."

"Studying? Studying... Sure, how 'bout I fucking study what's inside a fully fed human body, you can be my dummy, let's do this shit, I love studying."

"What are you so pissed about exactly? I'm offering you shelter, food, warm water and electricity. Why are you fighting me, darling?"

"Good question, I wonder. Something must be seriously wrong with me to turn down such an opportunity..." you say, rolling your eyes.

"Everyone has needs, baby, and I'm all about helping you with fulfilling them."


"C'mon, don't tell me you don't need to get a good fuck, I mean- Maybe that's why these dudes really didn't want you to be taken away from them... You're their little bitch, aren't you, darling?"

Your already shaking and aching body starts to burn from head to toe, you can't think of anything to say... You seriously start to wonder if you've done something horribly wrong while you were asleep for people to treat you like shit today or if it's just not your day at all.

Jason pushes you flush against him and you don't dare make a move, all the anger in you is starting to make your blood boil but you ignore it, there's no way you're dying today because of your inability to control yourself even though you can feel your hand tightening around your knife's handle, getting ready to shove the sharp blade in his throat.

"C'mon, we still have a little way ahead of us."

He drags you back into his car, shoving you carelessly into the backseats before slamming the door close and getting behind the well, he locks the doors of the vehicle, smiling at you, before putting the keys in the ignition, starting the car as tears blur your vision again.

what in the holy hell...





"I swear man, I don't know anything about that chick! I swear!"

"Simon, do your thing."

Simon nods his head before closing a pair of thick scissors down on the ring finger belonging to the tied up hostage, forcing down on it to cut the digit off, making the young man cry out in pain and wiggle around in the wooden chair he's trapped on as his amputated finger falls on the cold, hard, ground beneath him, blood pouring out of his hand.


"You already lost three fucking fingers buddy, I'll fucking start talking if I were you. I mean, not that I'm complaining, y'know? Watching you shit yourself and cry like a lil' bitch is actually pretty damn entertaining." Negan snarls, hovering over the man tied in the chair.

They've been at it for four hours now, there's blood on the floor, on Negan and Simon's clothes, the man they're questioning past out two times and they barely have a clue about where you are which only serves to piss off and anger Negan even further.

"Jason- Jason said he spotted a pretty girl in the woods weeks ago but- I- I had no idea it was her, I had no fucking idea, man! He only described her to us, we had no real idea of what she looked like! C'mon, man, I'm trying to fucking cooperate here!"

"Where'd he take her."

"I-I can't tell you that, man, you already killed half of us!"

"You only have your fucking thumb and pinkie finger left on your fucking right hand, which one do we get rid of next? Thumb or pinkie?"

"Fuck, no, please! Wait! It's an old factory! It's hidden behind a thick forest, no one can spot it from afar, that's why he-"

"The old candy factory?"

"Y-yes, that's where we live, he- I think he's gonna put her down in the basement, that's what he said at least- He- He said that he knew she'd put up a fight so he's been putting some shit down in the basement for when he'd get to her but- I swear I don't know what he-"

"Shut the fuck up." Negan slowly get up from his kneeling position, making himself even bigger than he was before in front of his scared hostage before speaking to Simon, his eyes never leaving the ones belonging to the young man sitting in front of him, "You see where that is, Simon?"

"Yes, boss."

"Good, then go get some fucking guns and tell your men to get into the trucks, we're going."

"Yeah, f'course."

"Be right out."

Simon nods his head before leaving the dark room he's been in for now four hours straight, running to get things ready to bring you back to safety as fast as possible.

"P-please- I- I'm sorry about your girl but- I don't have shit to do with it."

"Remember Lucille?" Negan asks with a wicked smile on his face, as he swings his wire covered baseball bat right in front of his hostage's face.

"F-fuck, man, c'mon, that shit's fucked up!"

"Damn right it is."

Negan gives him an amused laugh before violently bringing Lucille down on the man's skull, killing him instantly but he just keeps swinging his bat into the now headless body, letting his anger out and he finally calms down after a few minutes.

"Daddy's coming, baby doll." he breathlessly grunts out.




You get thrown into what looks like a dirty, creepy, old basement, falling on your knees, wincing in pain as your skin gets ripped on the hard ground.

"I'm gonna let you calm down for a few minutes, get your bearings, yeah? I'll be right back baby doll, be good, okay?" he says, knelled next to you on the floor.

"P-please- Just let me go, it doesn't have to be bad- I can't-"

"Shh, t's'okay, baby." he pushes a strand of hair away from you face, dragging his fingertips across your skin as he does, and you have to hold back not to puke at the unwanted touch, "Nothing bad's gonna happen, not as long as you behave."

With that, he kisses your forehead and leaves the basement, going up a wooden staircase and leaving you on the cold, hard, ground, your knees bloody and bruised now.

You look around, panic taking over you as you realize just how small the room is. You're locked in a small, cold, dark room and there's nothing you can do to make it better for you, you hate confined spaces.

You find yourself hoping that Negan'll show up to save you but quickly shake the thought off.

you don't need him, you don't need saving.

You usually don't need to be saved, you always find a way but, right now, it seems almost impossible for you to get out of this situation with the state your mind and body are in, blood is still oozing out of the deep cuts on your forearm and you decide to take a look at them.

You slowly roll the left sleeve of the grey hoodie up your arm, sobbing in pain when the fabric rubs against the opened wounds and a shocked gasp escapes you when you see just how bloody your arm is and how deep the cuts actually are.

oh, shit... this is bad, [y/n]... they're way too deep.

"Oh, god..."

The door of the basement opens, letting some light shine in the room, and quickly closes, drowning the room in darkness again, you push yourself against the wall behind you with your arms when you see Jason walking towards you. Putting his hands up as if he doesn't mean you any harm, he walks over to you and he kneels down to look at your small, shaking, frame sitting on the ground, stuck between him and a wall.

You feel tears rolling down your cheeks as you realize that you didn't have time to roll your sleeve back down to cover your cuts and he's now eyeing them and... Is that amusement in his eyes?

what the fuck?

"Damn, you're a real cute lil' psycho, aren't you."


"That's fucked up." he pauses and looks at your face, watching closely as you break right in front of him, "Fucking hell, you look hot as all hell even when you're crying your lil' heart out, good God."

he called you a psycho... because of your cuts... your self-inflicted... cuts.

"How long's it been since your last meal, beautiful?" you don't answer him, you can't, you're completely frozen, everything feels so unreal to you right now, "Alright then, you don't want to talk? S'fine, you'll come around, they always do and you're no different, I just have a feeling about you."

He gives you a pat on the head and gets up before walking out of the basement, slamming and locking the door behind him.

"Dad, I'm scared... I'm so scared." you whisper, curling yourself up against the cold, hard brick wall behind you, bringing your knees to your chest before putting your head in your thighs. Oddly soft sobs leaving your mouth as tears stain your jeans, "What do I do, dad? I don't know what to do."






Negan angrily climbs the stairs leading to his headquarters, your words pissed him off beyond belief. He's so used to people always complying and doing as he says, he's so used to have people telling him just what he wants to hear, he's not used to rebellion or, even worse, to have the harsh truth rubbed on his face and you just changed the hell out of his habits.

"Negan, baby, what's wrong?"

He hears one of his "wives" asks in a flirtatious way and he usually wouldn't really mind but, right now? It angers him even further, "None of your goddamn business that's what! Now go back to doing your fuckin' nails or some shit, I don't want to hear any of you for the rest of the damn day and don't you fucking dare come disturb me, we clear?"

She only nods, shocked by his outburst, these women are the only people Negan usually treats with "respect", he never raised his voice at any of them but he doesn't give a shit at the moment.

He slams the door of his office before carefully dropping Lucille on his desk as he takes a long look at her.

"Fucking shit- What the hell is that girl doin' to me..."

He knows every single words that you said were needed and justified, but his? They were only meant to hurt and cut you as deep as possible and, oh boy, did he succeed. He knows he should run back to you, make sure that you're okay and apologies but he won't, his pride being a major issue in the matter.

He lets out a frustrated grunt before slamming his fist on his desk angrily, he's pissed because you made him snap out of something he didn't want to snap out of. You made him realize just how meaningless the women he calls his "wives" are to him and, in a way, he already knew that, he never had any kind of feelings for any of them, just pride and cockiness to have a goddamn harem. It's just sex, that's all it's always been, nothing more and most times way less but then you came into his life and you fucked something up for him, you fucked with his pride and emotions without even trying.

With the attitude you give him and the way you talk back to him? He usually would've kick you out off the compound a while ago but he can't, he doesn't want to, it wouldn't be justified at all to him.

You broke something in him that needed to be destroyed for a while now and he knows that but it's weird to him, he hates not being in complete control. The anger he felt when he heard and saw his "wife"? It wasn't anger you created, no, it's anger that appeared the moment he heard her high-pitched voice ringing in his ears.

A knock on his door snaps him out of his thoughts, he grunts, pissed off, "What the fuck did I just fucking sa-"

"S'me" Negan's eyes widen when he sees Randall, a bloody, bruised covered Randall, pushing the door of the office open before inviting himself in his boss' office, no fear showing in his eyes but anger is all over them.

Negan lets out a small laugh, walking around his desk to lean against it as he watches the young man in front of him, "You got some fucking balls, kid."

"You're full of shit, y'know that?"

"Say that shit aga-"

"I fucking heard you, okay?! I heard the fucked up shit you said to her! You really ain't shit, man! You fucking dragged me in that shit as well, you fucking told her that I don't give a shit? Fuck you! I fucking care about that girl, sure as shit care about her more than you fucking do, you dick!"

"Do I seriously have to start hitting your fucking face again, kiddo?" Negan says through gritted teeth.

Randall let out a dry laugh, "Sure, go ahead, I don't give a shit." he takes a look at his boss and clenches his jaw, "I ran out of my room after I heard you tell her that all I want from her is sex and I'm kinda glad that I did 'cause I'm not sure I wanna know what kind of fucked up shit you fed her with afterwards."

"Tell me it ain't the case, Randall. Go ahead, tell me you don't want to fuck the girl."

"I don't! I fucking don't, shit! I actually really fucking care about [y/n]."

"What, you think I don't care about her?"

"Not after what you spat at her face, no. I know you don't give a shit about her! You just want sex from her, d'you even take the time to have a fucking conversation with her? Lemme guess, nah, you fucking didn't. If you had, you would want nothing but for her to be happy, sure as shit is what I want for her."

"You're on fucking thin ice, Randy boy."

"What, am I hurting your fucking ego? She'll never let you have her, Negan! She wouldn't do that 'cause she's not like all of your stupid whores!"

"Hey, now-"

"No! She doesn't fucking need you and it pisses you off. She's strong, stronger than all of us combined I'm fucking sure, she provides for herself and she doesn't open her legs to you, she has everything those bitches you keep around could never fucking have, she's the one damn thing left on this planet that you'll never be able to claim and you damn well know it!"

"Randall, shut your fucking mouth before it gets ugly again."

"You've beat my ass 'cause you're scared that I'll take her from you? Shit, I might as well, uh? At least I'll fucking care for her, I already do. You're fucking scared 'cause you know that she deserves way better than you!"

Randall's breathing is fast and ragged, his chest heavily falling up and down, his eyes watery from anger and sadness. He's about to walk out of Negan's office but he has one last thing that has to be let out of his chest, "Y'know, if you really gave a shit about [y/n], you'll get rid of these whores and commit to her. 'Cause she's the only thing left in this world worth sacrificing shit for any more. There's no other [y/n] walking this Earth, there just isn't. Earn this one or die being the lonely, stupid, egocentric, prick that you are, Negan. But she won't wait for you, that's not who she is, she doesn't give a fuck about your pride and she's right not to. She deserves way better than any of us, the least we can do is try and be decent human beings for her."

And, right after the end of his sentence, Randall leaves Negan's apartments, slamming the door behind him, leaving Negan completely frozen in place in his office.

The kid's right. You do deserve better than him and he is fucking scared to lose you completely because of that fact, he knows that you're worth everything in this world but his pride is getting in the way.

He wants you all to himself, you're different from his "wives", he doesn't have any kind of feelings for them, not at all, he doesn't even kiss them all that much 'cause he believes the act to be too intimate but he has no problems kissing you like his life depends on it. 

He loves kissing you, he truly does, he can't get enough of you, he loves the way you taste, it's like you're his one craving and he doesn't even need to be away from you to crave you like a mad man, he craves you all the damn time. It's like you've become his drug at some point and he hates how depend he became.

He's not used to this, he's usually always in control but his emotions seem to be giving him a big 'ol "fuck you" on that one and he hates that he doesn't have any choice but to feel what you do to him, and, good God, the things you do to him are unbearable.





The wooden door of the basement creaks open and you hear heavy footsteps walking down the stairs. You have to do something, you know that, you don't want to kill but it doesn't feel like you're gonna have much of a choice.

Your shaky right hand reaches for your knife tucked in the waistband of your jeans, and you get a tight hold on it before swiftly pulling it out, your knuckles white around the handle.

it's okay, you don't have a choice anyway, [y/n].

You slowly nod your head, taking in what's about to happen in a short instant, when you get violently kicked in the ribs, the force behind the hit making you fall on the ground, your knife slipping out of your grip and you groan in pain, holding your sides.

"Bad girl, [y/n]." Jason mocks through gritted teeth, kicking your knife away and out your reach, "Such a shame too, you were doin' so good, baby."

"W-what do you want f-from me?" you ask, your voice coming out as a whine rather than a roar due to the pain you're experiencing.

"You, it's as simple as that."

"I'd rather die then to let you touch me, you fucking pig."

Jason lets out a dry laugh before shoving the tip of his hard boot straight into your stomach, making you cough uncontrollably, "Well, that's too bad 'cause I don't plan on killing you anytime soon."

You're about to snap when he grabs your shaking, limp body and lifts you up like you're nothing to him. He carries you to the dusty, dirty bed sitting in the corner of the basement and panic starts to kick in as you start wiggling around in his hold, trying to get out of his grip but he throws you on the bed effortlessly with a smile on his lip before you can manage to get away from him. You feel like sick.

"Alright now, I think I deserve a lil' fun out of you after all the shit you've put me through. It's only fair after all, ain't it, sugar?"

well, lucky me, I don't have shit left to throw up anymore...

"P-please, don't."

You try so hard to get away from him but he just grabs your ankles and brings you right back to him every goddamn time, you feel like screaming and crying in frustration right about now.

"Damn," he looks at you, spotting the tears and panic in your eyes, "you're a lil' virgin, aren't you?" the way he speaks and stares at you is sincerely sickening and you can feel your stomach turning into a mess of knots, "Goddamn, it just keeps on getting better and better, doesn't it, beautiful?"

A choked sob comes out of your mouth when you feel his dirty paws crawling underneath your sweatshirt, applying pressure on your swollen ribs.

"D-don't touch me- You can't do that."

"Why the fuck not?" he asks, tilting his head like you've just taught him something that he doesn't quite understand.

"Because- Because I d-don't want you to!"

"You're adorable."

well, fuck you too buddy...

He puts his hands out of your hoodie and you're about to let out a relieved sigh but you quickly choke on it when you feel his hands sliding your jeans down your shaking legs, "Look at those chubby lil' thighs." he lets out a low whistle and brings his attention back to your face when you let out yet another cry yet, it doesn't stop him from bringing his hands up to pull your grey hoodie up right under your breast, looking at your tummy, "Damn, aren't you a chubby lil' princess, look at that lil' tummy."

You can't hold your sobs in anymore, the situation was bad enough as it was without having him talking about your body and looking at it. You move your hands to grab your top, trying to pull it back down to cover your exposed skin but he harshly slaps your hands away.

"Stay still now, baby." you feel bile coming up in your throat when he bits down on his bottom lip as he eye every single inch of exposed skin, "Let me look my fill, princess."

"P-please - Just - Put it b-back down, please." you plead but he hushes you and does the complete opposite of what you asked him to do as he takes your hoodie completely off of your body, "No, no, no! G-Give it back!."

He completely ignores you, pushing you back down on the mattress when you push yourself up to try and get your hoodie back, and you start to wonder if he even hears you anymore. He looks so fucking out of it.

You push your legs together when you feel him pulling at your panties, trying to shove them down like he did with your pants but you're not going down without a fight.

fuck that.

"Fucking hell! Cut the crap girly, you don't want to piss me off, believe me!"

"Go to hell, I said no!"

"I don't give a shit what you said, I don't give a single shit what you want either!"

"he doesn't give two shits"  "he just want to get in your pants."

Negan's words come back to you and hit you right in the face, hurting you more than the man on top of you ever could.

You're angry, you're angry because you realize that the only reason why you're so panicked is not because there's a grown man touching you without your consent right at this instant... No, you're scared to disappoint Negan... What would he think if you were to lose your virginity to anyone else but him? And why the fuck does it only feel right to you when you think about Negan being the one taking that small part of you away? You're lost, you like him more than you should and it angers you.

Anger is eating you alive, completely consuming you. You've took so much shit and never made a beep about it for so long maybe this time is the one that'll break the glass for good, "I said no!"

You eye your knife which is laying on the floor a few feet away from you and way out of your reach and you feel like screaming in frustration.

Nothing is going your way, it just keeps on getting more and more difficult for you to fight back. But you're your biggest weapon and you know that, people are always underestimating you because you're extremely shy and you look "angelic" as they like to put it but the things you can do, the damages you can manage do afflict with your bare fists are on the edge between scary and impressive.

You're brought out of your thoughts when you feel Jason's hands wandering inside of your thighs and it's like something inside of your head breaks. You swing your left, clenched shut fist for it to collide against his jawbone and he slightly loses his balance after the blow. It feels like you're losing all control you had over yourself so far as you push him on the mattress and shower his face with violent punches, you're straddling his waist as your small fists keep on coming down on his face which is quickly turning into a bloody mess.

"I said no, I said no, I said no!"

You keep on repeating this exact same sentence for what seems like hours, your punches never slowing down not even for a small second, you let your frustration, your sadness, your panic and all of your anger out on him and, while most of these emotions are towards him, you know that some of them are here because of Negan. 

You slowly come to a stop, completely out of breath, and you take a good long look at him to see that he's barely breathing and that his face doesn't look like anything really human anymore. With a huff, you slowly get off of his body, sighing when you realize that you're in your underwear, your jeans down to your ankles and you quickly tug them back up around your waist before scanning the room, looking for your grey sweatshirt.

"You fucking brat."

You hear Jason mumble with difficulty but you just shrug it off as you spot your hoodie laying on the floor, a few centimeters away from your butterfly knife. You quickly put your top back on and grab your knife before turning around, carefully looking at Jason, he looks like he's about to die right there and then.

"Go ahead girly, finish me off. You're one lil' psycho, y'know that?"

"Yeah, I've been told." you coldly snap back before reaching for the handgun sticking out of his pants' waistband, checking the magazine before loading a bullet in the chamber.

"Aw, c'mon, finish me off like the psychotic bitch you are, [y/n]. Chop me up in tiny pieces with that knife of yours, I know that's what you want to do."

You seriously did considered it for a strong minute but you quickly dropped the idea, knowing that it's only your anger talking, you don't want to kill people, not unless you have no other option.

he's gonna do it again, [y/n]! this fucker's been fucking stalking you for weeks, he just tried to- just fucking kill the bastard, you can't just walk away from this one, you can't and you know it.

"Shut up, man." and, with that, you shove your knife's blade right beneath his jaw, cutting into the flesh of his throat before he can't even say a word. You watch as he coughs up blood, some on you landing on you, for a few seconds before his body goes completely limp on the old bed he's lying on.

You find your right hand gently petting your left forearm where your deep, bleeding cuts are and you let out a small sigh.

you'll take care of that later.

You slowly nod your head, agreeing with your own thoughts before walking away from the bed. Slowly heading up the wooden staircase, you carefully make your way towards the door that kept you locked in this place for what feels like ages, and you harshly push it open, not caring about the noise you're making. You already know you're winning this war, let them come for you, they won't last.

"Hey! What the fu-"

You don't let the man guarding the door of the basement finish his sentence as you quickly shove your knee against his stomach, swiftly taking his radio and gun off of him before literally throwing him down into the basement. You watch as he falls down the stairs and you can't help but flip him off before closing the door and locking it.

"Have fun, asshole." you bitterly spit out, knowing that Jason is bound to wake up at some point since you didn't damage his brain, you only cut his throat and seriously fucked up his face.

You smash the man's radio on the ground before tugging his gun in the waistband of your jeans, you've escaped for only a minute and you're already armed with two guns and you took two men out, not bad.

You start walking further down the long, cold corridor leading to a big door but you stop when you hear screams and calls for help coming from the basement.

"Damn, that was quick. Guess Jason never wastes time when he has the opportunity to fuck someone's day up, uh?" you mumble to yourself.

Ignoring the man's screams, you slowly push the heavy door in front of you, your eyes getting hit by sunlight and you have to take a few seconds to re-adjust though you quickly get out of whatever building you're in when you hear footsteps coming your way.

"You think Jason's done with her already? I wanna have some fun with that piece of ass, too."

"Yeah, no shit, man."

you fuckers are lucky that I have better things to be doing right now or I'll fucking strangle you to death, you sorry fucks.

They both sound gross and it only urges you on to get the hell out of this fucking place. You walk slowly, making as little noise as possible, you stick against the walls, looking around to try and find some kind of escape route but you don't have any success so far.

You stop when you spot a huge gate and you feel your heartbeat getting faster. This is it, this is your ticket out of this hell of a place.

"Fuck, guys! He- He's fucking dead, Jason's fucking dead!" a man exclaims, completely out of breath, as he runs towards the men guarding the front gate and into your field of vision.

"What? Hold on man, you're shitting me, right?"

"No, dude! The little bitch ran away, we can't fucking find her, she fucking killed Jason and Tom too!"

"Fucking hell, what the fuck?!"

well shit... meh, they were bound to see the mess you've made at some point anyway, right?

You see the men guarding the gate loading their guns, looking around, "Check the whole fucking compound! You guys stay right there, she might come through if she's not already gone, ain't no way she's getting out of here in one piece." one of them orders as they all take their own patrol route while three armed men stay at the gate.

oh, so spooky, whatever shall you do now? are they serious? we're so killing them.

You look around, spotting one of them further away from the two others guarding the gate so you slowly get closer to him. Checking your surroundings one last time, you literally jump him from behind, your left hand covering his mouth before dragging him out of sight, you shove the blade of your knife in his head and it proves to ask for more force than it does with walkers, their heads being putrefied and all.

"One down." you whisper to yourself, trying to give yourself a rhythm.

You go back to your previous spot, checking for anyone who might have spot you or realize that they're missing a buddy by now. No one.

You let out a small sigh before tightening your grip on your weapon when you spot a man coming a little too close to you. For a second, you're tempted to get out of here guns blazing but you know that the chances for you to get wounded in this scenario are way higher than if you stick to your sneaky ways.

You quickly kick in the man's calve, making him fall down, before climbing on top of him and slitting his throat wide open, you get covered in blood in the process but that's a small detail right about now. You get back up and grab the man's rifle before running towards the only standing man left still guarding the gates.

You don't think about it, you just take your handgun out and shoot him straight in the head, you know that you only have a few seconds before his friends come running so you quickly push the heavy gate open with the small amount of energy you have left in you and run out as fast as you possibly can. You don't look back, you just run, you don't know where to and you don't care, anywhere is better than this fucking place.

You hear gunshots behind you and a bullet ends up entering your back, right below your right ribs, you want to stop and scream in pain but your feet just keep on carrying you forward.

After hours and hours of running, you finally stop, completely out of breath. Your body is in so much pain, it feels like you're about to pass out from it all. You pull at random cars' doorknobs and, finally, one opens so you quickly climb in the comfortable backseats, escaping the bunch of walkers that have been following you, some of them joined the party when they smelled the fresh blood pouring out of your body you assume, you're not too sure, all you know is that there's a lot of them by now and you can't run anymore.

"Shoot- This is bad, this is really bad, dude." you quickly push your hoodie up to your bellybutton, trying to see if there's an exit point on your tummy but you see none, "Fuck... It's still in me, the bullet's still in... Fuckety fuck..."

You reach behind your body and take a quick look at the entry point of the bullet and it's safe to say that whoever shot you fucked you up pretty badly, the wound is throbbing and bleeding quite a lot.

You let yourself fall into the comfortable seat that you're sitting on and wince in pain when your fresh bullet wound makes contact with the soft yet hard seat. You look around the car, the windows are tainted which is really cool, it's really big and spacious  whatever car it is, the seats are all black leather, there's some old, dry, blood on the driver's seat but it doesn't really surprise you and you read "RANGE ROVER" in the center of the black wheel of the car.

You catch a few walkers walking right by you through the car's windows, their vision is really bad so the fact that the windows are tainted is really a plus, all you have to do is stay quiet. But you can't.

Before you know it, you find yourself laughing softly as tears roll down your face, you turn into a laughing and sobbing mess in a matter of seconds as you come to realize that you've reach that point of your life. You've reach that point where your body is telling you enough, where your mind is telling you to stop pretending everything is always alright, where you realize that you seriously need rest and some fucking care for once.

You never though that you'll reach this point yet here you are, locked in a car, walkers walking all around you but somehow not paying attention to you, your body all beaten and bloody, your mind tired and out of positive thinking.

It feels like you're slowly dying on the inside but you can't let that happen. You can't let it happen because you're all you have, all you ever had and ever will have. You've lost a lot of people but you refuse to lose you too, it's not happening.







"Luna, no smoking, remember?." you say as you walk into your neighbor's living room, finding her smoking on her balcony.

It's snowing outside. She turns to look at you, her eyes a soft, calming green, and she's wearing a genuine smile on her face as she puts the cigarette out, "Hello to you too, sweet cheeks."

"Jeez, get inside, you're gonna freeze out here." You softly grab her arm, pulling her inside with you before gently sitting her down on her big black velvet couch.

"How was school today?"

"Oh, well, y'know... School." you lie, giving her a small smile as you throw some wood into her chimney to get a fire started, "How about you, how was your day?" you ask as you sit down next to her on the comfortable couch, kicking your knee high boots off.

"Same old, same old." she says, looking at the fire burning high in front of you.

"So... What did the doctor say?" you ask in a whisper, terrified to actually hear the answer to that question, "Is it- Like- Is it... What's the word? Acute? Or, like, chronic?"

"Acute, darlin'."

"Which means that... It's getting worse as we're talking, right?"

"Yes, basically."

Luna has been diagnosed with leukemia a month ago and you've been looking after her ever since, she's been your best friend for eight years now. Despite the huge age gape there is between the two of you, you can't imagine a better friend than her. She took care of you when your dad died and your mom became abusive and she was right by your side when your mom committed suicide last year. She's all you have left and soon enough she'll leave you too.

"Are you- Are you scared?"

"Oh, darling, no, of course not." she says, her soft voice almost making you burst into tears as she carefully watches you with gentle eyes, "I'm seventy years old, I'm fully happy with the way I have lived my life, honey. I'm ready to go."

"W-what about me?" you ask, swallowing your tears.

At that, she gently brings a soft hand to your right cheek, turning your head towards her and wiping away the single tear that escaped your eye.

"You? You're gonna be just fine, my love. You're so strong and I'm so proud of you." she smiles and gently hushes you when another tear slips away from you, "Don't you dare ever depend on anyone, honey. I know you might think that you'll be all alone when I'm be gone but you won't, because you will always have you. You are, by far, the best company anyone could ever ask for." she pauses for a second to examine your face, "You've been through so much crap, honey, I know it's unfair and if I could take it all away, believe me, I would without a second thought but it happened and this is where you're at now." gently, she brings you close to her and wraps her arms around your body, holding you tight against her own, "You're so strong, you're the prettiest girl this world ever had the chance to carry, you're ridiculously sweet, you care so much about people and most of all you're so, so, important. I'm not the one who kept you afloat for all those years, you kept yourself, as well as me, afloat. You carried me for so long, you gave me the opportunity to do things I never though I'll ever be able to do again and I cannot thank you enough for that."

"I love you, Luna." you sob out into her neck, your hands clinging to her like you're afraid she'll vanish if you don't.

"I love you too, [y/n], so much." she whispers in your hair, "You'll always be my little warrior, princess, no matter what." everything is so calm and, for a minute, it feels like there's nothing in the world but the two of you, "Honey, can you make me a promise?"

"Of course."

"Promise me that you'll never let a man mistreat you, you deserve to be treated like a queen and nothing less. And... Promise me that you'll never lose who you are and that you'll never apologize for being the amazing being that you are."

"I promise, Luna." you promise with a weak smile on your lips though she can't see it, tears running down your face.

Slowly, she start rocking you softly back and forth, humming a soft tone against the top of your head and you let the warmth of the fire and the gentleness of her movement put you to sleep in her arms.





"I promise." you whisper to yourself as you feel your body slowly falling into a deep, well deserved sleep in the backseat of the car you've found refuge in. 

The groans of the dead outside make you feel somehow safer as blood keeps on pouring out of your open wounds. You don't know how you'll wake up in the morning or if you'll even make it 'till sunrise but it's out of your hands anyway so you might as well rest for a while.

Chapter Text

7:00 AM//

The sun is slowly rising, the sky is a soft pink, and you slowly start to wake from your deep sleep, mumbling how much you hate mornings but it only comes out as weird small noises.

"Uuuugh, I don't wanna, I refuse." you turn on your stomach on the backseats of the car and shove your face into the leather covering the seats, groaning in defeat, "I hate everything."

well that's really negative thinking right there.

You let out yet another groan when you hear walkers still roaming around the area, "Really? Y'all don't have somewhere to be or something? C'mon, dude, not cool."

You slowly rise from your laying position and sit down with great difficulty as your whole body seems to wake up and pain starts to kick in again, reminding you not to push your body too much today or even ask too much of it.

new day, new bullet in your body, y'know, the usual... get this shit out of there, seriously, it's gonna get infected. it's a fucking miracle you woke up this morning so don't go and play with fire any more than you already do.

You reach behind your body to take a look at the fresh bullet wound and it doesn't look too good. Blood is still oozing out of it and the impact is really deep, the bullet is gonna be a bitch to take out on your own and it sure as shit is gonna hurt like all hell.

Ever since the outbreak; you got stab, shot and got the shit beat out of you more times than you care to count but it doesn't get any less painful or scary to you every single time you get injured. It won't be the first time that you have to pull a bullet out of your body and it scares you because you know just how much it hurts when it's not done precisely, this one is on your side and you're not sure that you'll be able to take it out without shaking or messing up once.

You shake those thoughts off and look around you, trying to get your bearings as you're still really sleepy... and grumpy.

"Now what?" you let out a sigh and start to nervously play with your hands. You feel so vulnerable, you feel gross, you're grossed out by the fact that a man saw your body and commented on it, you feel even more insecure than you normally do and, after what happened, you don't know if you want to keep going or not.

It's really hard for you and you can't just go back to the Sanctuary, you can't go back to him, not after he said, "They didn't even try." you whisper to yourself, tears filling your eyes, as you recall the previous events, no one tried to prevent Jason from taking you and it hurts you more than you care to admit.

people ain't shit, they're here when it's easy to be there but when they see that you're slightly different or when shit hits the fan? they run off. you know that.

You're not sure of anything anymore, you're completely lost, you're a mess of emotions and none of them are good but you don't get to dwell on it all as you're literally dragged out of your thoughts when the back door of the car that you've found refuge in swings open and a strong hand drags you out of the vehicle.

"C'mere you lil bitch!"

"Let go of me, you stupid prick!"

One of Jason's men apparently decided to track you down and, well, it appears like he's found you as he throws you on the hard ground, making you cry out in pain as the bullet wound as well as your sore ribs hit the ground.

"You really thought you could get away after the shit you pulled!? Hell no girly, it don't work like that!"


you did not...


"Idoesn't work like that, you illiterated prick." you sass out of anger and frustration.

well, shit... did you just correct the grammar of a dude that's obviously trying to kill us?

"Are you seriously correcting my motherfucking gra-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence as the blade of your knife goes through his ankle, pushing through the bone and making him lose his balance as he cries out in pain and falls on the ground next to you.

"I'm done with you fuckers!"

You climb on top of him, tightening your grip on your weapon, and you fall out of touch with reality for an instant. You don't have any control over your movements or mind, all you can do watch as your hand keeps on violently bringing the blade of your bloody butterfly knife down on his throat. You're pretty sure the fucker's dead by now but you don't stop to check, you don't stop for a goddamn second.

Your breath is erratic, tears are running down your tired face, your ears are ringing so loudly that you can't hear anything and you can't feel your body anymore yet everything hurts so bad and you're hyper-aware of everything.

"[Y/n], hey!" two strong hands grab your waist to try and push you off of the dead body that you've been stabbing for what feels like hours, you recognize that voice and it angers and upsets you even further when your mind fully processes it.

"Let go of me! Let go!" you wiggle in the man's arms, swinging your knife around, hoping the blade will eventually catch on something.

"It's me, baby doll. Shh, it's me, relax." Negan's voice is right in your ear and that's all it takes for you to completely break down, "It's okay, you're okay, baby. Shh, you're safe, I promise." you hide your face in his chest, crying your heart out as he brings your legs up to his waist, carefully lifting you up, "It's okay, I'm here baby girl. M'right here, I got you."

He smells of fresh blood, sweat and leather and your eyes are slowly fluttering shut as your head involuntarily pushes further into his chest. You hate to admit it but you feel safe in his arms, safer than you've ever felt, everything slowly fades to black as the voices around you start the fade away and you're pretty sure that you've heard Connor and Randall's voices before you fell asleep.





A loud scream of pure pain rips through your throat as your eyes pop wide open, your back tries to arches away from the source of its pain but a firm grip keeps you in place, you don't know where you are or what the hell is happening, all you know is that; your body is having none of it.

"Keep her still, Paul."

is that harlan's voice?

"[Y/n], darling, it's me, Jesus." your squint to try and make out Paul's face but your vision is completely blurred by hot tears, "You're at Hilltop, doctor Carson is trying to fix you up but you have to stay still, think you can do that?"

You're confused, you're laying on your left side, your sweater is sightly lifted up, exposing your bullet wound, and you can feel Paul's hands firmly yet gently keeping you from moving around on the medical table you're on.

"Alright, [y/n], it's gonna hurt real bad for a quick minute and I'm truly sorry but it's important that you stay still so that I don't hurt you any more, alright?" you hear doctor Carson say and even though you can't really see him, you can tell that he truly is concerned.

You just nod your head quickly, harshly biting down on your lip and clenching your eyes shut as you feel Jesus' hands getting on each side of the wound on the right side of your back to spread it open. You feel like screaming 'til your lungs start bleeding, the stretch hurts so bad, you let out a choked sob as you feel a surgical tool diving into the wide open wound to go and get the bullet out.

"Fuck- wait! Paul- It hurts!" you cry out, your body twitching and naturally trying to get away from the pain.

"I know sweetheart, I know." Jesus coos though he doesn't loosen his grip on you, "Hang in there, you're doing amazing, it's almost over, I swear."

You try to take a deep breath but you're shaking like crazy and it feels like your throat is completely closed, keeping you from breathing properly. Before you can fight against it, your body shuts itself down, the pain being too strong for it to handle any more, everything gets back to being dark as one last shaky sob comes out of your mouth. 


5:15 PM //

Your eyes flutter open and a small yawn comes out of your mouth, your body is so sore it feels like you've been ran over by three trucks... and an elephant.

"Hey there, welcome back." you hear Jesus' soft voice right next to you and you feel like crying, you don't know if it's because you're happy and relieved to hear his voice or if it's because you feel horrible for leaving him to deal with Negan when you first ran away.

"I-I'm sorry Jesus- I'm s-so sorry." you choke out, tears filling your eyes again.

"Sorry? What on Earth do you have to apologize for?" he asks before getting out of his chair and walking up to you, concern washing over his features.

Slowly, you push yourself off of your stomach and carefully turn your body around to sit down on the bed you've been put in, Jesus helping you through it, and you take a look around the room once you've settled against the pillows behind your back. You let out a small laugh when you realize that you're in the room that you were in the first time you came to Hilltop, Jesus seems to understand the source of your amusement and lets out a chuckle.

"Seems like every time you wake up in this bed, you're seriously injured and lost." he softly teases before sitting on the border of the mattress, his eyes scanning your face as you look everywhere but directly at him with wide, shiny eyes.

"Yeah," you let out a nervous laugh, "my whole body hurts."

"What the hell happened, [y/n]? Your arm-" he starts, looking down at your now heavily stitched forearm.

"I- I don't want t-to talk about it... Please." you whisper, looking down at your stitched-up cuts, your skin swollen and stained with blood though most of it was clearly washed off when the doc patched you up.

"Alright," he lets out a small sigh, "what about that bullet wound?" he examines your face and sees your [y/e/c] eyes drowning in tears, "[Y/n], you have three broken ribs, do you know what kind of force it takes to break bones? A whole lot. You have hand prints all over your body too, wh-"

He stops talking when you let out a sob, tears running down your face as your body shakes with sheer panic, pain and sadness. You don't want to talk about what happened, you can't. You don't want to remember it.

You slightly jump when you feel his hand touching yours and quickly hide your hand away from his, your sobs getting even more violent. You don't mean to be rude but you don't have any control over your body's reactions, you don't want to be touched right now, not by anyone.

"I-I'm s-sorry."

"Don't be, it's okay, [y/n]. Do you want to be alone? It's okay if you do, I'd understand."

"No, p-please, don't leave me alone." you answer in a pleading tone you didn't know you had in you.

"Alright, I'm not going anywhere, I promise." he says reassuringly, giving you a warm smile. 

You can't help but to think about Negan at this instant, you wonder where he is, "P-Paul?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"W-where's... Where's N-Negan?"

"He said he had some stuff to finish... Don't know what though. But he said he'll come get you at, well, in fifteen minutes actually." he smiles and gestures the watch covering your right wrist with a nod of his head, "Nice watch." he says with a teasing smile.

"Oh," you take a look at it, it's a little bloody but it's still ticking and showing perfect time and date, "yeah, it's alright, I guess." you teasingly say, you love that watch.

"Alright? In this economy? Luxurious more like, young lady."

He actually gets a giggle out of you and that's all he really wanted, to make sure that you're at least a tiny bit happy even if you're in a bad place at the moment.

"Oh, I got you some fresh clothes, this hoodie of yours is all bloody and crap."

"Jesus, I can't just walk away with your clothes every single time I come here."

"Is that a challenge?" he says, raising an eyebrow and getting up from the mattress to walk towards the small dresser in the corner of the room and grabs a piece of clothing before walking back to you, "This isn't mine though, it's Negan's, he left it here when he dropped you off."

Jesus puts the white t-shirt on the blanket covering your lower body before smiling at you and tells you that he'll be back when Negan'll be here before leaving the room to let you change.

he left one of his t-shirts for me to wear?

You feel your cheeks turning a bright red at the attention but quickly get slapped back down to Earth when his words come ringing through your head. It seriously hurts more than broken ribs and a bullet wound, it truly does.

stop dwelling on it, [y/n]. he's not, so why should you?

You grab the shirt and slowly get out from under the thick blanket you feel asleep under and let out a groan of pain when your feet touch the ground.

You've always had an hypersensitive body, ever since you were a little girl, someone can accidentally graze your skin in the slightest of ways and you'd feel it as if that person just full on grabbed you and you sure are paying the price for that sensitivity right now. Your whole body is throbbing in pain, your ribs are killing you, it's really hard for you to breath and it feels like someone is pressing down on your chest every time you try to inhale.

You let out a cry of frustration when you realize that you can't even take a small step without your body begging for you to stop, there's tears running down your face again and you're a mess of emotions; you're sad, angry, frustrated, you feel ashamed, you feel so small and helpless that it physically hurts you.

You're the kind of girl that always "I can do it on my own" her way out of situations, you could have both your arms and legs in a cast you'd still freak out if someone tried to help you out and insist that you can do it your own with no problem at all. You're like Negan in a lot of ways but you both have very different ways to let deal with things and to express yourselves, that's what truly makes the two of you so different.

The door of the room slowly opens and you're about to freak out, you don't want anyone to see you like this, not being able to even take a simple single step without crying out in pain.

"You're not supposed to be out of bed." you hear Negan's voice echoing through the small, quiet room and you push your head even further down, finding the floor beneath you to be of great interest all of the sudden.

floors are fucking fascinating- what?

"Yeah, well- I am." you whisper though that's not how you wanted the words to come out.

You're not sure if you want to punch him in the dick or hug him right now. You're mad at him, beyond mad, but you also crave him really badly.

meh, could do both, punch the bitch in the dick and then hug him... real tight... 'till he dies... yeah...

You watch him move through your eyelashes and see him carefully putting Lucille against a wall, the bat is dripping blood, there's bits of flesh on it too, and you feel a shudder going down your spine but you're not sure if it's all just fear.

He takes a step in your direction to come up to you but you take one back and miserably fall on the ground, sobbing and letting a quiet cry out frustration through your throat, "Don't!" you beg when you spot him moving towards you, "D-don't to-touch me, I-I don't n-need you."

okay, might be a lie... touch me, fucking throw me around the damn room, I don't fucking care, just help me the fuck up.

"Doll, c'mon, don't be-"

"I-I'm not your d-doll," you look up at him from the ground, tears rolling down your face, your nose is running and your cheeks are red and puffy, "I-I'm just- How'd you p-put it? A fucking c-charity case, a-a poor abused o-orphan that n-needs to get ov-over it." you try and get back up on your feet but you just keep on falling back down.

Your body can't support you anymore, you're exhausted both physically and mentally, you stop fighting and let yourself fall completely on the ground, putting your face against the rough carpet covering the floor you're on, sobs are leaving your mouth as your body shakes along with them only making the pain stronger.

You hear the door slam shut, making you jump, and a fresh wave of sobs rips through you. He just fucking walked away, he didn't even say as much as a sorry, not that you actually expected him to... But if you didn't expect him to, then, why does the fact that he actually didn't hurts you so bad?

The door creaks open again and you're about to lose your damn mind but quickly calm down when you hear Connor's voice, "[Y/n], what the hell-" he stops when he spots you laying on the floor and rushes towards you, kneeling down next to you, "Hey, you're not supposed to move all by yourself, here let me-" he reaches out for you to help you back up but quickly stops when you try to get away from him with tears flowing out of your eyes like a broken focet.

"No, no, no, no, no! P-please, don't. D-don't touch me, p-please- don't."

He furrows his eyebrows as the worst case scenarios start to play in his mind, he doesn't even realize just how right his "suspicions" are, "O-okay- Okay, I'm sorry- Sorry... What about Faith? Would you let Faith help you?"

You slowly nod your head and keep on mumbling apologizes. You feel horrible, Connor truly cares about you, you know that, but you can't- You just can't.

"Alright, I'm gonna go get her."

"I'm s-so so-sorry, Connor."

"Hey, no, don't be. I just want you to be alright, beautiful. Don't you worry about a thing, I'mma go get Faith."

He runs off and leaves you here, on the floor, as he goes to get Faith. 

faith and connor are here, who else is there? why are they even here?

In a matter of seconds, she's softly knocking on the door and coming in, closing the door behind her, "Oh, baby girl, what d'you do."

She quickly gets to you and grabs your body as carefully as possible and she actually manages to avoid hurting you. Gently, she sits you back down on the mattress and pushes your hair out of your face, smiling at you, "You scared the shit outta me, pretty girl." she looks at you, relieved to see that you're right here and not out there instead, "How 'bout a warm shower? How's that sound?"

"G-good." you try to give her a smile but fail miserably, you're too tired to even fake a smile.

She gently rubs your cheek with her thumb and gives you a reassuring smile before carefully lifting you up. Holding you against her body, she makes sure you're secure in her hold before she starts to walk to two of you to the bathroom, closing the door behind her before sitting you on top of the sink.

"Alright, I, young lady, am a professional nursing machine so, be ready to get taken care of."

"I-I think I c-can sh-shower by myself, Faith." you say, looking down, your cheeks red.

"Girl, c'mon, you can't even walk." she teasingly raises her eyebrow and gives you a genuinely concerned look, "Hey, look, I've seen some shit when I used to nurse back in the day, I've washed really old people and let me tell you that they do not give a shit, they'll fucking piss on you if they need to go while you're cleaning them-" she stops when she hears a giggle coming out of your mouth, "Oh yeah, okay, I see how it is. Mama Faith getting pissed on by old people is funny to you, uh?" she laughs, her smile only widening as she takes you in.

"I'm sorry." you manage to say through your fit of giggles.

"Don't be, boo. It's amazing to hear you laugh like that, totally worth gettin' peed on." you shake your head and look up at her with a small smile, "Alright, now, if you don't feel comfortable being naked around me, I get it, just tell me and I'll turn around. Hell, I can even take my clothes off if you want so we're even... Except for the underwear, I'm keeping those, I love you but, fuck you, it's too fucking cold in here for me to be butt naked."

"I-it's okay, you c-can keep your c-clothes on."

She carefully lets you down from the sink you're sitting on and helps you strip out of your jeans and hoodie, your cheeks reddening as tears make their come back, completely blurring your vision.

"Hey, [y/n], look at me." Faith softly demands before gently grabbing your face to bring it back up, "If anything, I should be the one crying right now, not you. You're so beautiful, kinda makes me mad to be honest. You're lucky that I'm a grown ass woman and that I'm over being a mean, jealous, bitch."

You let out a shy laugh and nod your head, not wanting to tell her that your tears have nothing to do with being shy or insecure. After pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, she goes to get the shower running and walks you behind a wooden curtain for you to strip out of your underwear.

As you do so, memories of the day before come running back, the way Jason touched you, spoke to you and looked at you. You remember every single little detail and, looking down at your bare body, your realize just how right Jesus was; you are covered in hand prints and the sight of them makes you want to cry and throw up right there and then but you keep it to yourself, not wanting to alert Faith.

With an heavy sigh, you wrap a towel around your bare body and shyly call out to let Faith know that you're covered.

Carefully, she walks you towards the running shower and flashes you a smile before opening the door of the shower cabin for you to get under the water and you don't need to be told twice. You step inside the cabin and throw the towel covering your body over the glass protecting you from Faith's eyes before stepping right under the shower head, letting out a deep sigh when the warm water hits your sore and aching body in the most delicious way possible.

As you're letting the dry blood getting washed away by the hot water, Faith starts to make conversation to keep the two of you busy and it quickly turns into something more than just a simple chit chat, "Hell, I ain't never seen Negan that angry and worried about someone... Known him for six years."

"S-six years?" you curiously ask under the spray, your interest picked.

"Yeah, we uh- We used to teach in the same school." she says with a smile.

"Wait- Wha- I- Negan used to- What?"

"Yeah," she laughs at your confusion, "he used to be a coach. Lemme tell you, ain't no kid ever talked back to him, his mere presence was enough to make 'em fall in line. He was really cool, though- Yeah... Shit changed, I guess."

You let a small moment pass as pure disbelieve has your brain working overtime. He used to work with kids? Negan? With kids?

okay, you bumped your head and now we're dead and we ended up in a weird ass word where everything is weird...

"What di-did you teach?" you ask, trying hard not to picture Negan around kids which turns out to be harder than you could have ever imagined.

"I was a science teacher, was a substitute for French classes as well. I used to be a part-time nurse too... Y'know, that's when I got pissed on."

It always amazes you to learn about people's past, there's always that one person that surprises you and, boy, Faith is definitely it, "Wow- Th-that's super impressive."

"How 'bout you, princess? What'd you used to do?" she asks with a smile on her face, happy that you two finally got the chance to have a real conversation.

"I- uh. Just- Y'know, studies."

She can tell that you don't want to talk about it so she leaves you alone and patiently waits for you to finish your shower while making stupid jokes,enjoying the small giggles she gets out of you every now and then.


6:30   PM //

Faith just left your room and went back outside, she said that Negan wanted her to tell him how you were doing, she also told you that he actually sent Connor in after he left, just to make sure that you were taken care of.

You're sitting on the mattress where she left you, kicking your feet around as you patiently and nervously wait for Negan to come and get you to bring you back at the Sanctuary like she said he would.

yay... how're the legs? you sure you can't run?

You let out a small sigh, the shower helped a whole lot, your body is clean and hurts a little bit less but you're still really sore and you still can't take a full step without crying out in pain.

You feel so small and the fact that you are wearing one of Negan's t-shirt doesn't really help, that thing is way too big for you, it reaches right above of your knees, completely covering your thighs. You slowly lift the piece of clothing off of your thighs and take a long look at them. 

You have really pretty legs, your thighs are chubby, you don't really have a thigh gape and you used to love it when Luna was still around but now that she's gone, you don't see yourself in the same light anymore. She's the one who taught you how to love yourself, she's spent most of her time telling you how pretty you were, she loved your natural beauty but you never saw it, you still don't.

Unconsciously, you start to grab the meaty flesh of your thighs, pulling on whatever you can grab and scratching your nails on the soft, smooth skin covering them, tears blurring your vision.

The door of the small room you're in opens and you immediately cover your thighs back up and look up at the door just to see Negan, Lucille on his shoulder, with a cocky smirk on his face, starring straight back at you.

look at that handsome, stupid asshole...

You have to admit that you kind of envy him sometimes. He always seems to find a way to act as if nothing bad ever happens, as if he isn't guilty of anything, as if he's a real angel, like he can never od no wrong and you wish you could do that too, sometimes.

He walks over to you in his "ever so casual" fashion and carelessly lift you up to bring your body flush against his. You're not wearing any pants since Faith told you that she'll help you out with them before he'd come to pick you up but there clearly was a change of plan, and you can feel the cold leather of his jacket rubbing against your inner thighs, making you blush furiously.

You hate the effect that he has on you just like he hates the things that you force him to feel.

"Ready to go home, baby girl?" he asks with that cocky smirk of his glued to his lips, clearly not taking no for an answer, .

where even is home, anyway?

You simply nod and nervously wiggle around in his hold. You're not comfortable with him touching you like that, especially not when you don't have any pants or bra on.

"Y'know, I seriously am starting to love seeing you in my clothes, darlin'." he says before kissing your forehead, making your whole body twitch.

He carefully walks the two of you out of the room, immediately heading for his truck. It's cold out and your cheeks redden when the ice-cold wind reminds you of just how exposed to just about everyone walking by you are right now.

You spot Jesus from afar and you want to say goodbye to him, you want to hug him and tell him just how thankful you are that you've met him but you can't, you're stuck in Negan's strong grip, all you can do is wave back at him when he flashes you an apologetic smile and waves you goodbye.






Negan's hands are tightly wrapped around the wheel, his knuckles white and Lucille right beside him. All the trucks have come to a stop a few meters away from the gate which his girl is trapped behind. Grabbing his bat, he angrily opens the door of his truck and jumps down, his feet firmly hitting the ground and all his men bring their attention to him at the sound of his boots making contact with the concrete road.

"Dwight, take some of your men, I want you to find and bring every single one of these sorry fucks to Simon, Arat and Faith. I want you guys to get those fuckers in line and keep an eye on 'em. Randy boy, Connor and I are gonna go get [y/n]. We'll fucking tear this fucking place up if we need to but we're not going back home without her, we clear?"

They all answer with a simple "Yes, boss." before making their way to the big steel gate and forcing it open, their weapons loaded and ready to fire. They're greeted with guns to the face but Negan, as usual, shrugs it off and smiles, showing off his pearly whites.

"Why, hello there! I believe you fuckers have something of mine and, oh boy, am I pissed!"

They all look confused for a second but they're quick to understand what Negan is talking about, who he's talking about.

"Yeah, that lil bitch ran off, killed five of our men, too! She better be fucking dead 'cause if she ain't, we sure as shit are gonna change that."

Negan can feel his blood boiling, he's not okay with people threatening his baby, he's just not.

He realizes now that those men, the way they're talking about you? The way Negan sees seem? That's exactly what you must see him as and it angers him, he's not sure if he's pissed at himself or you. Actually, yes, he is, he's just not used to face the consequences of his stupid attitude and reckless actions. He said much worse to you, much, much worse.

Faith seems to notice that he's struggling to get it together so she takes the reins for him and orders her men to put the armed men line before reminding everyone to do as Negan told them to and, just like that, they all fall into place. Randall and Connor are right behind Negan, looking at each other, unsure of what to say or do.

"Alright! C'mon, let's go get my lil' princess back." Negan says with a cocky smile as if the little moment of absence he just had didn't happen.

"Let's." Connor says, walking up to Negan's side, Randall doing the same.

They head into the small community, paying no mind to Faith, Simon and Arat as they force men on their knees in front of them, taking their weapons away.

"[Y/n] did that?" Randall says with wide eyes as he spots a dead body lying on the floor, the blood soaking it still fresh, they can smell it from where they stand.

Negan decides to get closer to take a good look at it. It's a man, shot right between the eyes and he nervously scratches his beard while looking at it. You've never been one for guns, that much he knows and that actually something he finds to be hot as hell too.

He's about to say something but gets distracted when he spots some more blood on the ground, a huge puddle of it peaking out from behind a thick white, brick wall. He signals for Connor and Randall to come with him and, as they get around the wall, their eyes widen when they spot two other bodies, both have a really wide cut going straight through their jugular vein, blood still oozing out of both of them.

Negan immediately recalls something you told him the first time you officially met him "[...]I could kill you right now if I wanted to, all I 'd have to do is sink my teeth into your jugular vein and you'd bleed out in a matter of a few seconds, Negan." He smiles at the memory of that day and looks down at Lucille, a smirk forming on his lips as he recalls the way he's introduced you to her.

"Yeah... That's my girl alright." he says with a smirk.

"So... What? She got out?" Connor asks, clearly frustrated.

"F'course she fucking did." Randall snaps, "What? You really thought that she was going to wait around for salvation? Come the fuck on! S'like you said, man. No one did shit to keep this whole thing from happening in the first place, for all she knows, we clearly don't give a fuck about her. You should know better than to expect her to just sit around."

Of course you didn't wait around, you were right not to. He's right, to you it's clear that they weren't about to help out so you took the matters in your own hands and, damn it if you didn't make it out.

Negan shoots Randall a cold glare. He knows his words were directed to him and it does nothing to appease him. He's mad, he feels like he's about to go fucking mental because, yeah, he actually did expect you to stick around for him to come get you and save the day but you didn't give him that satisfaction and he hates it but also loves it. He's proud of you but, damn, is he pissed.

He swings Lucille off of his shoulder and tightens his grip on her before walking towards the knelled people waiting for whatever is supposed to happen, to happen and he's about to relieve the suspense.

He gets right in front of them, taking a few steps back to look at all of them, there's women in the line up as well. He goes and kneels in front of one of them and smiles at her.

"Hey there, today's your lucky day, honey. See, lucky for you, I don't kill women," he pauses, slightly turns around and points at Faith and Arat with Lucille, a devilish smile on his face, "But these girls? Well, they really like the lil' girl that your pimp took away from me... And they don't like when you take what they're attached to." he looks at the woman's face and see tears in her eyes, "Aw, man... Sadly for you, luck tends to run out pretty damn fast nowadays... Yeah, see these ladies? They're not as kind as I am, they don't give a fuck actually, male or female, they'll beat the holy livin' shit out of you." he's about to get back up but Jason's words come back to him and he feels the need to make one thing clear, "You girls are okay with being his and shit? Or did he force you into it?"

"W-what? No, we're not his... We all can be with whoever we want, it's just... W-well, being with him is way more rewarding, so yeah, we're all okay with it." she says with a tone that tends to annoy the shit out of Negan really quickly.

He gets back up and turns around when he hears "Sounds familiar." coming out of Faith's mouth, she doesn't even try to hide from it when he glares at her. She said what she said and, fuck yes, she meant it.

He lets out a deep laugh, his eyes slightly darker from all of his built up anger, and shake his head before swiftly swinging Lucille around, bringing her down on a random man's head.

"You all need to fucking learn something! You.Don't.Fucking.Take.From.Me!" he says, bringing his bat down between each words, anger taking over him.

He turns back around and simply nods to his men, giving them the signal to finish what he just started, Arat and Faith going for the women in the line up.

Negan grabs Randall and Connor and pushes them towards the open gate, a few walkers got curious of all the noise but he pays no mind to them and keeps dragging the boys along with him.

"She can't be that fucking far, we're gonna fucking find her and bring her the fuck back home." he barks through gritted teeth.





8:00 PM //

Here you are, back "home", in "your" bedroom, sitting down on "your" bed. You let out a small, shaky sigh and wipe the tears off your face as you try and process everything that's happened these past twenty-four hours.

It all seems so unreal to you, how could this happen? Why are you back here again? You have so many questions going through your head, you feel like it's about to drive you insane.

The whole drive back was just Negan trying to get you to relax, he even cracked a few really stupid jokes and it only angered you further because, while he's here making jokes, going around with that stupid cocky attitude of his, you're here; completely hollow, drowning in your own tears, constantly fighting off the urge to hurt yourself and it's all because of him. Sure the previous events added to it but you wouldn't be that fucked up if it wasn't for him. Hell, none of that would have happen if it wasn't for him.

You furrow your eyebrows and slowly look up as pretty white lights caught your attention. You rub your eyes thinking that it's only your fatigue playing tricks on you but you quickly realize that there actually is a bunch of really pretty and soft white fairy lights hanging on the walls of your rooms. You were so upset when you got thrown back in this room that you didn't even bother to look around you.

You slowly get up and walk towards them, you love fairy lights, you always wanted some in your bedroom but your mom never wanted to spend money on you and you never had enough to afford some, at least, not if you wanted to eat.

You're feeling so many things at the same time, you can't handle it, it's just all so overwhelming. There's only two things to get you to stop thinking when you're in this state; self-harm or, well, alcohol.

As you grew older you started to understand why your mom got so addicted to it after your father passed. Everything just goes completely numb when you're drunk, you don't really feel anything any more. Hell, your own mom got you hooked on that poison, how fucked up is that? While the simple sight of a bottle of alcohol usually makes you sick to your stomach, when you're in this state, it seems to help out a whole lot.





Negan is walking around the workers' quarters, making sure that everything is going smoothly but he's lost in his thoughts. You're all he has in his mind, he keeps on wondering why he didn't just suck it up and apologize earlier on today, he's angry about leaving you all alone on that floor back at Hilltop and he keeps on remembering the way your voice was shaking when you spat his own words back at him, he hated everything second of it.

"Boss, you're there?" Simon's voice rings through Negan's radio, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Well, we couldn't find [y/n] in her room so we swept the whole compound and, well, Connor found her in the common room. She broke into the mini bar and she seems to be completely drunk off her ass. He didn't say anything to her, she didn't even see him but, maybe, it'll be good to have someone talk to her?"

"Fuckin' hell." he grits out before grabbing his radio to answer Simon, "Yeah, yeah, I got it. Make sure everyone is in their room and you can call it a night."

"Alright, boss."

Negan runs up the stairs leading to the first floor where the break room is and he barely takes a step in when he can almost taste alcohol in the air. He slowly makes his way toward the opened door of the big room and he leans against the door frame, silently watching you with a small smile.

Here you are, sitting on the pool table, looking down at your dangling feet as you swing them around, bottle of Jack in hand. His smirk turns into a boyish grin when he sees that you haven't changed and are still only wearing his shirt, your black boyshorts and a pair of fuzzy white socks.

"You really are gonna give me hell, aren't ya, angel face?" he says with a smile, making you jump slightly.

"You're one to talk, Negan." you silently thank the alcohol for giving you enough confidence to make a sentence without stuttering like a child.

He lets out a chuckle and pushes himself off of the door way before walking directly towards you just to lean against the couch sitting in front of the pool table. Slowly, he sits on top of it whilst keeping eye contact with you, the braces of his boots clicking when he crosses his legs.

"I thought I told you not to fucking touch your arm again, doll." he finally says after eyeing you for what felt like endless minutes.

"And I told you, I am not your doll." you mumble, your head lolling around, seeming heavier to you now that you're under the influence of alcohol.

"Alright then... Baby girl it is." he teases with a taunting smile, you don't know what he's trying to accomplish here but if he wanted to make you blow a fuse, he succeeded.

"Y'know what?" you clumsily jump off of the pool table, luckily, the alcohol completely numbed your wounds so you don't feel as much pain as before when your feet touch the ground, "I'm so done with you, Negan! I don't understand you! You hurt me so bad, you treat me like crap and then you're back to being all cocky and whatnot! What are you doing to me?!" sobs start to rip through you again and, before you can't stop yourself, you start hitting Negan's chest with clenched fists, you're not hurting him though, you're aware of that and it pisses you off.

"Hey, shh, calm down, baby girl." he grabs your hands to keep you from hitting him and pushes you against the nearest wall before grabbing your face with his free hand, forcing you to look at him, "[Y/n], baby, I'm so fucking sorry." your breath catches in your throat and your eyes slightly widen at his words, did Negan just apologized to you? "I'm so, so fucking sorry. I didn't mean any of the shit I said. I took it way too fucking far. I fucked up, baby doll."

His right thumb gently rubs the soft skin of your left cheek, wiping away a few tears as his left hand slowly lets go of your hands and carefully joins his right hand on your face, he lets it rest right below your jaw as his thumb comes to caress the smooth skin on your right cheekbone, your eyes close on their own and you let yourself relax a small bit under his ministrations.

"Did he touch you, baby? Did that fucker put his goddamn hands on you?" his voice is low and scruffy as he speaks straight into your right ear.

"I- He- I-I'm sorry." your eyes flutter open and you try real hard to keep eye contact with him but it proves to be more difficult than you anticipated, even with alcohol filling your veins.

"Did he? Did he fucking touch my baby? Is that why you don't want to let anyone touch you, angel?" you can't look at him anymore, you're starting to get tense again and tears are blurring your vision as a choked sob comes out of your mouth before you can't even try to keep it from getting out. You feel Negan tensing against you, "You think I'm mad at you? That it? You think I'm mad at you 'cause some prick forced himself on you? Is that it, baby doll?" he asks, his soft rough but still oddly soft in its own way.


"Why the fuck would I be mad at you? It ain't your fault, you hear me?" he says, forcing you to look back up at him.

"I-" you move your eyes around, looking at everything but him, since you can't move your head, "I just- I d-don't want a-anyone bu-but you t-to touch me a-and I th-thought that y-you'll be mad at me i-if he t-took my vi-virginity and n-not you." your cheeks are on fire at this point, tears are running all over your face and your nose is running like nobody's business.

"You want me to be the one, baby girl?" he asks with a smirk though his eyes are still soft on you, his lips now brushing against yours.

"I- I dunno... Y-you're the only man that ever t-touched me."

You never thought about it any other way, he was the first man to ever touch you, at least with your consent, he was your very first kiss so, to you, it just made sense that he was gonna be the one to take your virginity as well. You don't know why though, it just seems logical to you.

"D'you kill that fucker, baby?"


"Atta girl." he says with a smile before, finally, crushing his lips against yours. Slightly tightening his grip on your face to bring you closer to him, he doesn't let you overthink it and you don't, you actually immediately kiss him back to his surprise.

You missed his touch, you missed his lips, you missed his cocky attitude, you just missed him as a whole, no matter how badly he's hurt you.

"You scared the fuck out of me." he breaks the kiss to whisper against your lips, "I went looking for you and you weren't there, you didn't wait for daddy to come get you and I was so pissed off, but, damn am I proud of you. You scared me shitless though, [y/n]. You're my little baby and I don't ever want my baby to be in danger. Ever." he barely finishes his sentence when his lips directly go back to yours and you simply nod your head to let him know that you've heard him loud and clear.

Neither of you is slowing the pace down, you just keep at it, you both are clearly craving one another and neither of you is willing to let the other go any time soon. You're completely out of breath, your lungs are burning up, but you don't care, you just don't.

You can't bring yourself to care about your body's primary needs when he's kissing you like his life depends on it, not when he lifts you up and your legs snake around his waist all on their own accrod, not when his hands grab two handfuls of your butt and certainly not after a whine escapes your mouth, making Negan smile and grunt into the kiss.

"Fucking fuck, darlin'." he tugs a strand of your hair behind your ear before looking straight into your eyes, "I fucking care about you, way too fucking much for my liking. I know I fucked up a lot with you but, goddamn, do I fucking care about you, angel. I'm just not used to this shit, been a long time since I last gave a shit about someone so I can't tell you that from now on it's gonna be roses and chocolates but- damn- I really want to change shit for you, and only for you."

"Negan- I... I'm sorry but I don't know if I can actually believe y-you on that one." you say, trying to look down but his hands keep you from doing so.

"Tell me what I've gotta do for you to be happy, baby doll." he asks you with a smile on his face. He already knows what he needs to do but, of course, he wants to hear you say it.

"I- I wanna be yours." you whisper with burning cheeks, your whole body shaking. You seriously did not except that to come out of your mouth, at all, "But- N-not with t-them a-around." you stumble to add, referring to his "wives".

He's truly surprised by your confession. He already knew that, at some point, he'll get rid of these women but he never thought that you'll actually be okay with being his if he did. He honestly just thought that it'll make it easier for you two to work things out.

"Baby, how drunk are you?" he says with a small laugh, he doesn't want what you've just said to be the result of one too many drink but he still has to make sure.

"Drunk e-enough to have the courage to say this to you b-but not d-drunk enough to re-regret it tomorrow morning." you admit, shyly looking up at him.

"How 'bout that, I'm gonna bring you back to your room, you're gonna get some sleep, rest up and tomorrow morning, I'll come pay you a lil' visit and we'll talk, yeah?"

"Y-yes, okay." you keep your voice down and nod, feeling your eyes flutter shut with exhaustion as you're about ready to call it a day.

"Alright, princess. Bedtime." tightening his hold around your body a small bit to make sure you're secure in his arms, he puts an oddly gentle kiss on your lips and carries you out of the room, walking the two of you to your room. Your head is hidden in the crook of his neck, moving with every step Negan takes, his beard slightly tickling you and he teasingly keeps on squeezing your butt cheeks in his hands, a chuckle coming out of his mouth every time he makes you squeal.

Much too soon for his liking, he reaches your room and carefully opens the door not to make any noise to wake anyone up. Gently, he closes the door behind him, push the bed sheets out of the way and softly lays you down on the mattress to let you crawl under the warm, thick blankets.

"How many blankets you got there, baby?" he asks with a chuckles as he tries and count them.

You giggle shyly and nuzzle your face into your pillow, "Three."

"Well, I'd say you're about ready to hibernate, uh?" he teases, grinning when you giggle into your pillow before peaking your head out to look up at him, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. With a content sigh, he kneels down to face you and bring his hand beneath your blankets to caress your left cheek, "Sleep tight, baby girl."

"Night, Negan."

He bends down a small bit and steals one last kiss before walking out of the room with a smirk on his face. Walking down the corridor to walk back to his quarter, he whistles as he goes, not really caring about the sleeping folks anymore. Frankly, he doesn't give a damn about a whole lot right now. Your words just keep on echoing through his head; "I wanna be yours.", that's all he ever really wanted to hear from you, and now that he finally did, it's playing in his head like the best kind of broken record.

As for you, you're already deep asleep but you fell asleep excited like a child, you know that Negan is nothing easy to deal with but you can't help the way you feel about him. You can't control it, it's completely out of your hands and, for once in your life, you don't actually mind.

Tomorrow is another day but, as of right now, you don't know just how life changing this tomorrow is gonna be for both you and Negan.

Chapter Text


"I gave you my hand and you just slapped it away, Luna!"

"Of course I did, [y/n]," your long time friend answers with a calmness that does nothing but set your nerves ablaze, "if I'd have taken the hand you were handing out to me, how on Earth would you have been able to hold yourself up, honey?"

You can't believe what's happening, you thought that you'll be ready for this moment but, turns out, you're not at all. Your best friend, the only person that still gives a shit about you, the one person that you always feel safe with no matter what, is about to go and there's nothing you can do about it. You feel like crap.

Ever since she got diagnosed with her leukemia you started to get more and more reckless, you fell into drugs, started to hang around the wrong crowds and got expelled from school for beating the girls who used to bully you on a daily basis up, if you're being honest with yourself, you don't really regret that. They did horrible things to you, things that you're not yet ready to talk about.

You know that it's only the false sensation of confidence you got from hanging out with violent groups of people that made you act on their constant bullying and that might be why, deep down, you kind of feel bad about it, because it wasn't all you, but what's done is done and now isn't the time to dwell on it.

Everything changed for the worst after your dad's death, not only did your mother become physically abusive but she also was really manipulative and emotionally abusive too, she kept on beating you up or she'll lock you away in a small, confined closet if you dared to shed a single tear. You couldn't even let it out when she wasn't around because she somehow always ended up knowing about it and she'd get even more violent then.

You haven't shed a single little tear for six years, the only exception being the two tears that escaped you when Luna was diagnosed. Even after your mother died on your twelfth birthday, it became a part of your mechanism to just bottle your emotions up, you rarely let your vulnerability or emotions show, you still feel every single one of them, you just taught yourself how to cover them up, and you're really good at it; faking a smile, forcing a laugh, acting confident when really you have a very fragile self-esteem, always acting like you're ready to fight when really you hate violence. Yeah, it's no wonder you've let one of your so called "friends" drag you into DrugLand with them.

But, the problem with drugs is that; the effects wear off at some point and you're forced back down to that harsh reality of yours, your pain and loneliness come crashing back to you while your "friends" go back home to their family and you know that they'll show up the next morning, bitching about how their parents are monsters because they didn't let them order fucking pizza for breakfast.

Hell, you'd give anything to have your parents around while those idiots are here, complaining about how their parents didn't get them everything they wanted for Christmas.

"[Y/n], darling, it's okay for you to cry, you know that." Luna's soft voice brings your attention back to her.

You keep on avoiding eye contact, you keep on looking down to the white, squeaky floor you're standing on but you know that you're gonna have to face the situation at some point anyway and it most certainly will break your heart but you have to be there for her, that's the least you can do. So, with a deep breath, you slowly look up at her and you feel your throat tightening, your heart skipping a few beats and your vision getting blurry really quickly.

You can't stand the sight of her in an hospital bed, the bed you know she's going to die in, tubs hooked to her arms, chest and nose, the constant beeping of the monitor beside her is reassuring as well as it is a source of pure anxiety for you.

Slowly, you walk towards her and drop on the big puffy hospital chair next to her bed before carefully wrapping your hand around hers.

"Look at you, darling." she gently smiles at you, "You've changed so much over the years."

"Yeah... Became a huge screw up alright." you say with a sad laugh, trying to keep the tears in your eyes from spilling out.

"A screw up?" she slowly rises from her laying position and carefully sits down on her bed, coughing a bit, "Now you listen to me, [y/n]. You did what you could with what you've been given and you didn't get a lot, you've lost so much, you saw both of your parents die right in front of you, no one should have to go through the things that you've been through and I'm scared to even think about the things you aren't telling me about." you clench your free hand into a tight fist, trying really hard to swallow your tears back, "[Y/n], honey, it's okay." she repeats as she spots the tears drowning your pretty eyes usually so full of hope and life.

Her soft voice finally breaks you and you let out a violent sob that rocks your entire upper body as tears finally find their release. It's been so long since you've allowed yourself to cry, hell, you never though it'd ever get to the point where you'd have to "allow" yourself to feel things because you never thought that people could push you into bottling everything up.

It feels so good to finally let go of all those tears, tears you didn't get to cry when your father died, tears you didn't allow yourself to cry when your mom would treat you like crap, tears you didn't dare to let go of when you saw the fire fighters carrying your mother out of your house in a body bag, tears you always swallowed back when you'd get beat up in a corner of your school's bathroom.

Hell, the only time you recall "breaking" your mum's "no crying rule" is when her boyfriend of the week, which she started to make a collection of over the years, was all over you, touching you inappropriately, trying to undress and kiss you but you fought through it and ended up crying which is what alerted your mom. She came running in your bedroom and she didn't say a damn thing about the fact that there was a grown ass man on top of you, shirtless with his pants undone, trying to touch you, oh no, she didn't give a shit, she gave you the blame. She gave your ten years old self the blame for being "under dressed" and she kicked the pig out before beating you up whilst throwing awful words at you and ended up throwing you in your closet, locking you up in it for four days straight.

"She can't hurt you anymore, love." Luna whispers like she can read your thought clear as day, "She can't, I promise." she says whilst gently rubbing your cheek, wiping away a few tears in the process.

"I could've helped you... I could've paid for your treatment Luna... I could have." you say barely above a whisper, trying really hard to convince yourself that you actually could have done something to help her.

"Yeah? And then what, [y/n]? You would have paid for a treatment that wouldn't have done anything to me because my leukemia was too advanced anyway, I would have died and you would have spent all of your money on me. I wasn't going to allow that to happen, no way."

"B-but you're dying- A-and then... Then I'll be all on my own again, Luna."

"Not for long, honey. You'll find a lot of good people to surround yourself with, you'll see. I know it won't be easy because you're hurting really bad as of today but, trust me, someday? Someone is gonna come into your life and turn it all around just... Don't let it be the wrong person, [y/n], because they could also turn your life around for the worst, and I only want the very best for you, understood?"

"Y-yes, Luna."

"Alright... Alright, good girl." she squeezes your hand and gives you a small, tired smile, "You're so beautiful, you're incredibly smart, so smart that it actually scares me sometimes." she pauses and lets out a small laugh, "You have the kind of beauty that could change the worst criminal into a real gentleman, you're so, so brave but, honey, I need you to let yourself feel things, there's nothing wrong with the way you feel. Screw what your mother told you, the way you feel is valid, always, no matter what. You want to cry? Cry your little heart out. You want to scream? Scream until your throat is sore and your lungs are burning. You want to be angry? Go ahead, let yourself feel it, my darling, and stop punishing yourself for it. You have the perfect right to have emotions, your very own emotions. You have nothing to feel guilty about. The point I'm trying to make here is that; there's nothing shameful about who you are, [y/n]. You're so pure and kind, it scares me sometimes because I know that people tend to feel the need to destroy what's pure and you, honey, are definitely it. You have to stay true to yourself, no matter what. You're so important, you don't deserve to get hurt like you do. You're way too young not to unconditionally love yourself. You deserve the very best, don't you ever settle for less. "

"I won't, I p-promise."

"Good, good... I love you." she slowly sinks back down on her mattress to lay down again and closes her eyes, "My brave little princess." she weakly smiles and lets out a small laugh before you feel the grip of her hand loosing around yours, "Hey, honey?"


"Say hi to the Dixon boys for me, will ya?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You let out a shaky breath, a sad, teary smile on your face as you frantically nod, "Y-Yeah, of course."

With a small smile, she weakly squeezes your hand in hers, "Alright, darling. I just- just need to rest, just- I love you, always." she mumbles and you choke on your words when the monitor keeping track of her heartbeat shows a flat line on its screen and starts making a loud, continuous, obnoxiously high-pitched sound but it's like you're slowly going deaf, the noises around you only coming out as echoes in your ears as nurses fill the room, unplugging the monitor and you vaguely hear one of them trying to comfort you but you just let your head fall, your forehead resting on Luna's waist as tears keep on rolling down your tired face.

"I love you too, Luna."

People always say that "You don't know what you've got 'till it's gone" but what are you supposed to feel like when you know exactly what you had, what you've just lost?





8:00 AM //

You let out a relieved sigh as you step out of your shower, your bare body only covered by a thin towel as you run down the long corridor to quickly get back to the safety of your own room, earning a laugh from Arat as she spots you running around the place in your baby blue towel and your wet hair.

Randall comes out of his room at the exact same second you reach your door, your cheeks turning a bright pink as he smiles at you, his eyes widening when he spots your lack of clothing.

"H-hi Randall."

"Hey, boo." he laughs, trying not to make the situation unnecessarily awkward.

"I uh- I'mma go get dressed... Catch you for breakfast?" you shyly ask, afraid that you might come out as clingy, looking down and nervously twisting a piece of hair around one of your fingers.

"F'course, princess." he gives you a genuine smile and you look up at him, noticing for the very first time that one of his eyes isn't a pretty clear blue, his left eye seems to be more of a pretty grey-ish color which completely captures your attention, in fact, it captures it so much that you don't even realize that; not only are you staring but you've also been pushing the door of your room the wrong way for a good solid minute now, making Randall laughs.

"Try pushing it, sweet pea." he says with a teasing smile.

"Wha- Oh, shoot- Y-yeah," you let out a really nervous laugh, cursing yourself when you realize how awkward you were being just now, and push the door open before quickly waving at the blonde man and rushing inside your room. The second the door closing behind you, you push your back against it as if to keep all the awkwardness out of your room.

you're the awkwardness person in the fucking universe...

You seriously consider moving underground for a good second before refocusing on getting dressed quickly, it's really cold today.

You make your way to your dresser, pulling a simple black t-shirt and Jesus' jeans out of it, a set of underwear and a pair of white socks with black dots on them. As you get dressed, you take a quick look at your body, it's not healed, far from it actually, but at least it doesn't hurt so bad anymore. You can walk and run a small bit, not fast but it's better than not being able to move at all. Your forearm is still stitched up and so is your bullet wound, your ribs are still hurting like hell because you should have had surgery for that but, well, you can't really get that nowadays, not without taking a really high risk of infection or worse; death.

You slip your black combat boots on and slip a big sweatshirt on, zipping it up before making your way towards out of your room to go and have breakfast with Randall.

ugh, but you've already brushed your teeth!

You quickly shrug that thought off as you know that it's only your anxiety trying to talk you into skipping yet another meal. Sure, you did already brush your teeth but that's a morning habit that you've had ever since you were a little girl so it's no excuse at all to skip a breakfast, it never stopped you before, no reason why it should now.


9:00 AM //

You can't believe that you've actually spent a whole hour eating your breakfast with your friends, Randall was there and so were Faith, Connor and Arat. Your stomach hurts now that it's full for the first time in months, you didn't eat much at all but it's enough for you to feel like throwing up. You know that you have to fight it because it's only psychological but it doesn't make it any less complicated, at all.

On your way back to your room, one of Negan's "wives" bump into you and she angrily stares down at you which only serves to piss you off, you didn't do shit to the bitch, she's the one who ran into you.

"Watch it, you stupid brat!" she yells at you as if you just stabbed her.

you should... you definitely should...

"Hey, you're the one who bumped into me." you say, trying really hard to remain polite and calm.

always stay graceful, that's what Luna taught us...

"Excuse me? This is my fucking home, you got that? Stay in your lane, you dumb bitch." she says with a mean smile.

okay, how about you gracefully punch that bitch in the stomach and throw her in a fire?

"Your home uh," you step closer to her, invading her personal space and you can hear her swallow clear as day as you do, "you don't run shit here. You're just a dumb bitch who doesn't know any better than to open her legs 'cause that's all she's good for. Hell, you don't look like you're all that good at it either, actually. You just sit on your ass, doing your nails all day, giggling like some dumbass whenever a man looks at you, hell, it doesn't happen that often thankfully 'cause goddamn," you slightly tilt your head to the side, flashing her a mean grin, "your laugh seriously makes me want to cut your fucking throat wide open just so that I won't have to hear that shit anymore." at this point, your jaw in clenched shut, your blood is boiling and your hands are closed into tight fists.

You push her out of your way and knock the tray she's holding out of her hand straight on the floor, glass shattering all over the place, you spot Simon walking up to her, almost bending down to pick up the mess but you quickly snap at him.

"Don't!" you say as he looks up at you, clearly surprised, "Let her do it." you snarl as you eye the reason for your shitty mood before pushing her down on the ground for her to pick up the shattered glass pieces, "The bitch never does shit, least she can do is clean up after her goddamn self."

You turn back around, pissed and angry, making your way back to your room as Simon stands here, completely on his ass. He hands the woman a broom and, even though he'll probably get in a hell of trouble for not helping one of Negan's "wives" out, he has to admit that it's actually nice to have her cleaning her own shit for once.

You spot Negan heading towards your room just as you turn the knob to open it and glare at him, you're fuming. You know damn well that she was bringing the tray he took his breakfast on this morning back and she probably also brought it to him in the first place, and, just the thought of him interacting with one of these women makes you want to cry in pain and disgust.

You enter your bedroom and slam the door shut behind you, jumping on your bed, letting your face fall into the soft pillow laying on the mattress before screaming loudly into it as tears of pure frustration and anger get soaked up in by the pillow.

You don't even realize that Negan walked into the room until one of his hands gently comes down on your back, softly rubbing it, "Hey now, what's that big heartache all about, baby girl?"

heartache, yeah... that's the word for it, i guess.

You keep on sobbing into your pillow, not wanting to look or talk to him, you're tense just from his hand touching you when the exact same touch relaxed you last night. You feel like you might be going crazy because of him.

"Wanna tell me what the hell happened with Sherry? I mean, shit, you're really fucking hot when you get all angry and frustrated but, damn, I can't have you going around traumatizing the girls." he says with an amused laugh but you're far, far, far away from finding his words amusing, they're hurtful if anything.

You slowly sit down on the soft mattress, wipe your tears with the back of your hand and look up at Negan, he's wearing that stupid cocky smirk of his and you want to slap it right off of his face.

"What happened to making changes, Negan? No, 'cause I was hammered last night but I wasn't drunk enough to imagine things."

"Baby girl, you know I want you to be mine but it's gonna take a little time for things to fall into place. I mean, shit, I can't just kick these ladies out, I'm a fucking gentleman, y'know." he says with a smug look on his face and you feel the urge to tear him apart right there and then.

"Y'know what, Negan? Forget it, forget about last night, okay?" you snap, getting off the bed, tears drowning your pretty [y/e/c] eyes, making them shine, "You had me in one of my vulnerable moments, again. I've just had the shittiest day ever and I was drunk, I should have kept my mouth shut!" you start to walk towards the small bedroom's door but stop in front of it, "Worst part is, I actually meant what I said, every single damn words, Negan." you quickly swallow your tears back, "Just forget about me, I'm done playing games with you, you never play fair anyways." you finish and slam the door shut after you got out of the room

You don't feel anything, your eyes are full of tears but they're not coming out, there's no noise coming out of your mouth either. You've finally reached that point where you can't allow yourself to cry for people like him anymore, he's hurt you enough as it is, you've cried so much for- no- because of him.

You hear him moving around in your bedroom so you decide to head outside before he actually gets out of the room and tries to sweet-talk you like he always does. You're getting hurt because of him, you can't let that happen again, you need to get over him and it should be easy to do so... but it's not, at all.

You hear calling after you as you turn around a corner of the big compound finally getting to a crowed space where you know he won't make a scene, not in front of all of his "employees"

more like underpaid and underrated people who work their asses off for some sorry lowlife fuck.

And you were right to assume so as you see him looking at you from afar, shouting daggers out of his eyes, his jaw clenched and his grip on Lucille tight, his knuckles red and white.

"You smoke, boo?" Faith's voice snaps you out of the weird trance that you're in as you direct your attention to her.

"Uh, n-no I uh- I don't." you say, sadness clear in your voice as well as frustration.

"Well then, wanna keep me company while I smoke real quick?"

"Y-yeah- Yeah, f'course." you say, looking directly at her, flashing her a quick smile.

She grabs your hand and leads you outside where Dwight, Connor and some other dudes are guarding the gate, you quickly wave at them as she drag you to the literal walkers barricade, which kinda freaks you the hell out, they all look so... healthy? Do they feed them?

"Do you guys feed those things?"

"Honestly? I don't know, never asked, never wanted to know to be honest. This shit grosses me out but it's pretty damn clever though. Gotta admit." she says as she casually takes a pack of cigarettes out, putting on of the sticks between her lips before flicking her lighter, creating a small flame and bringing the cigarette to live as she takes a drag out of it, pushing the smoke out of her lungs and you watch the cloud of smoke fade into thin air.

"Why come here to smoke? I mean- Isn't it supposed to be stress reliever? T-to smoke? So why come in the one place that's filled with walkers to do so?"

"Well, I don't really mind 'em, other people do, y'know? So, I'm sure not to get bothered when I come here to smoke. Only Negan comes here when he needs some alone time, I guess." she takes another drag out of her cigarette, looking at you as she leans against the wall behind you.

"It's amazing how quick you recover, [y/n]. You couldn't even take one step yesterday and now, there you are, walking around without as much as a grimace on your pretty face. I'm seriously impressed, you're a lil' badass." she says with a smile before turning her head around to blow the toxic smoke out.

"It still hurts like hell to be honest, I just- I've had worse, y'know?" you say, looking blankly at the few walkers around you as they try to reach out for you and Faith, the sound of their teeth snapping and animalistic groans filling your ears.

"I'm a thirty-five grown ass woman and, never in my entire damn life, have I met someone like you." she says as she eye you up and down, "You're just so young and- fuck... that shit just ain't right, darlin'." she takes her cigarette out of her mouth and drops it on the concrete ground before crushing it with her ankle-high converse.

You don't need to ask her what she means, you already know. You know that no one your age should think, function nor speak the way you do. It's all consequences of your past but you don't really take it as a punishment. Yes, sometimes, it can be a burden not to be able to feel like an eighteen years old would but, then again, you're not really sure what normality truly is anyway.

You let out a small laugh as you finally come to realize that you actually turned eighteen yesterday. It's odd not to feel excited about it, not to throw a party or to have that awkward, cringe inducing, moment where everyone starts to sing you an happy birthday but then again, you haven't celebrate a single birthday ever since your dad passed.

"[Y/n], boo. You still with me?"

"I- uh- Yeah, yeah- Sorry. Got lost for a second there." you give her a smile and something clicked in your head, making you rush out of the little moment you were having with Faith, "I-uh... I need to get some stuff in my room so-"

"Don't sweat it, honey, I can see that you have a lot on your mind. S'fine if you don't want to talk about it. I gotta get to work anyway so, I'll catch you later?" she asks hopefully with a smile on her face.

"Yeah, of course."

You run off and navigate through the thick crowd of people running left and right inside the compound, all doing their best not to piss Negan off.

is there anything that actually doesn't piss that man off?

You finally reach your room and quickly run in it, not bothering to close the door behind you,and going directly for your locked chest. Unlocking it and taking your backpack, your bow and arrows out to shove them in your bag before putting it on your back, you quickly check to see if your trusty butterfly knife is still safely tugged in your jeans' waistband and get out of the room, closing the door before walking back down the corridor, doing your hair into a messy bun on top of your head, a few loose strands framing your face. You quickly get outside and walk towards the guarded gate, your head up, trying to make yourself seem a bit confident.

"Hey, Dwight." you wave at him as you walk closer to the gate, "Can you open the gate for me, please? Be back in three hours."

"Uh, [y/n], no disrespect but- you sure you want to go out after what happen-"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"All alone? I mean what if something happens again and you're all al-"

"You guys were with me when I got taken away, weren't you?" you snap, "You didn't do shit for me even though you were all armed head to toe, I got myself out of this! Me, all alone! You didn't do anything! I got out of it even though I was bleeding out and tired!" there's tears coming back in your eyes and your breath gets caught in your throat when you realize that you've just yelled at Dwight for no reason, it wasn't his fault. "I- I'm so sorry, Dwight."

"Don't be, you're right and I hope that you give yourself credit for what you got yourself out of. I couldn't have done it no matter how much I'd like to believe I would." he opens the gate in front of you and gives you a small smile, "I never thanked you."

"T-thanked me? W-What for?" you look up at him, confused as to what he could possibly have to thank you for.

"Remember that chat we've had, like, two nights ago?" you slowly nod your head, "Well it, uh- It really helped me out a lot, actually. So, yeah, thank you for that, needed it."

"I'm happy to hear that you're doing better, Dwight. You deserve it." you bring yourself up on your tiptoes and carefully kiss the intact part of his face, giving him a small smile before walking out of the compound, the gate closing behind you.

"Three hours, you said?" Dwight asks.

"Y-yeah, three hours."

"Alright, you be safe out there."

"Always." you say with a nervous laugh before walking down the road leading away from the Sanctuary, walking down the quiet road.

you're not coming back in three hours are ya?

You're not sure when you'll go back, you will come back but you don't know when. All you need right now is to have some distance, to be away from him, to be away from this place, to go and get lost in the woods like you used to do, let all your anger, sadness and frustration out - You need you.


10:00 AM //

You have no clue as to where you are but it's super pretty. You look at your surroundings, there's a few walkers around, a bunch of flowers trying really hard to bloom through the very cold weather and there's rays of sunlight piercing through the small spaces between each leaves of each tree, this place looks almost untouched which is a really rare sight nowadays.

You take a deep breath, filling your lungs to the brim, before slowly letting it all out with a small smile on your face. This feels right, being out here feels right. This is home to you. You like being out here, you hate feeling safe, you feel like you don't deserve it anyway.

You do though, more than anyone else does, if there's one person left on this planet that truly deserves a roof about their head, food in their stomach and to be surrounded by positivity it's you but you're blinded by the scars people left on you, all the abuse you've been through seriously changed you in every way; you never felt confidence, you always feel like you're not good enough, you hate your body, you always side with people when they throw shit at your face and you feel like their words are deserved when they're not, at all.

Thankfully, ever since the world got turned upside down, ever since you've been left completely on your own in such a cold and cruel world, you proved yourself just how much you're truly worth, just how strong you are and you're proud of yourself for not going back to bottling your emotions up when it would have been the "smart" thing to do in this kind of world.

"This place is so pretty." you whisper to yourself, your eyes scanning the area surrounding you.

You keep on walking further into the woods, eyeing the soft colors of the flowers claiming the ground beneath you, when a squirrel jumps out of nowhere, making you almost pee yourself.

"OH MY FREAking god. What the heck, dude!?" you scream as quietly as possible, glaring at the squirrel that seems to be in some kind of weird drug trip to be honest, he's freaking the fuck out, running around in circles and jumping from tree to tree.

you can't even trust squirrels these days... how sad.





12:00 PM //

A knock on Negan's door makes him groan as he was lost in a book which he throws back inside a drawer in his desk before barking at whoever knocked to get in.

"Hey, there. I brought you your dinner, baby." one of his "wives", Lilly (?) says, walking towards his desk before gently dropping his tray filled with food on the wooden surface.

"I thought I told you all not to come bother me, didn't I?"

"Y-yes, but, I mean, you have to eat," she twirls her hair around with her fingers, "Y'know, you need energy for us, daddy."

Negan's eyebrows furrow, he doesn't like that, he fucking hates it actually. He only plays around with the whole daddy kink thing with you, no one else, it came naturally with you, he doesn't explain it and he doesn't give a shit really, but having someone other than you using this term with him just makes him gag which is odd 'cause he never felt repulsed by any of these women before... Yeah, at least not before you came into his life.

Getting up from his chair, he rounds his desk, his jaw clenched but she doesn't seem to notice that he's pissed, she actually lets out an high-pitched giggle and he has to close his eyes to keep himself from screaming in frustration.

"Get.The.Fuck.Out.Now." he says through gritted teeth making all giggles from the woman stop immediately, frustration showing on her face.

"Ugh! What's going on with you? Ever since this... bitch, came here you haven't touched any of us! We have fucking needs too, Negan! What the hell?! What, she fucks you better than me? You're gonna tell me that she can get you off better than five actually experienced and fully grown ass women can?" she yells, fuming with jealously as she knows damn well that you actually are way prettier than all the "wives" here combined.

Negan's jaw clenches even harder, he's about to fucking lose it. She doesn't get to talk about his baby like that, no one fucking does. He gets closer to her, crushing her against a wall, his face directly in front of hers as they're about the same height.

"You really wanna know?" he snarls with a smirk, "Fuck yes, she does. She makes my dick rock hard just with a fucking giggle. Wanna know some' else? I never even had sex with her but, goddamn, when I will I'll fucking fuck her brains out for everyone in the fucking compound to fucking hear and let me tell you one last thing, she can fucking make me cum with a single goddamn kiss so, yeah, she actually is better than five fucking women all together, as a matter of fact, I would rather have her for the rest of my goddamn life all to myself than to keep the five of you or anyone else, you satisfied?" he asks before slowly backing away from her, "As for you having needs, you don't get to fuckin' complain 'cause, goddamn, if I don't always fucking make you sure y'all aren't missing shit. As for being experienced, the girl can fucking make me cum just with a fucking smile so I'll check my facts if I were you. Now, get the fuck out." he orders one last time as Lily leaves his office, fuming with anger and jealousy.

"I would rather have her for the rest of my god damn life all to myself than keep the five of you or anyone else" his own words invade his mind, drowning him in thoughts and those feelings he hates so much. He knows he should just get rid of them and earn your trust and love but his pride just keeps on getting in the way.

He's frustrated with himself as much as he is with you, he's frustrated with you because you're so out of reach yet so fucking close, because you're so hard to get yet so simple to approach, because he knows that he hasn't done right by you and that he's hurt you way too many times. Hell, he just did it again this morning. He though about how this morning could have gone all night long, he thought about you all night long and he still couldn't do the right thing when he came to you this morning.

He's getting weaker and weaker when it comes to you though and he definitely noticed that but, oddly enough, he doesn't mind. It only means that, at some point, he knows he'll finally suck it up and do right by you, hopefully sooner than later.





6:15 PM; //

The sun is slowly setting as you finally gather the guts to get out of the small woods hiding you away from anyone's sight to make your way towards the huge gate protecting Hilltop and its occupants. You come into the guards' view and they seem to recognize you even though you never even had the change to meet them, hell, you didn't meet anyone but Jesus and Harlan.

"What do you want? Negan already had his share of our shit, don't tell me he wants more 'cause we don't fucking have more." one of them say, clearly scared and angry. You don't blame him at all, you'd already have lost your mind if someone was to take away the stuff you risk your life for every single day.

"I-I'm no-not here for that a-at all." you say nervously, pulling on your shaking fingers, your nerves and the really cold weather getting to you, "I- I just- I'm s-sorry, I didn't m-mean to s-scare you guys. I uh- I'm gonna g-go, I'm sorry." you curse yourself for even thinking that paying Paul a visit could have been a good idea as you wrap your arms around your shaking frame and start walking away but you stop when you hear the gate of the small village being opened.

You're not sure if turning around is such a good idea, you don't know if they've open the gate to welcome you in or to shoot you, you wouldn't blame them if they did shoot you, you're nothing but one of Negan's dogs to them after all.

"I'm guessing that you're here to say hi to Paul, [y/n]?" you hear Harlan's soft voice call out making you turn around quickly.

"Y-yes, but-" there's tears blurring your vision as you recall never thanking him for saving your life- twice, "I-" you don't know what to say so you just walk up to him and hug him tightly, repeating thank yous as you do so.

"Hey, it's okay, [y/n]." he softly reassures you as he carefully hugs you back, "I never thought you to be ungrateful, I know it's not your fault that we've never had a chance to have a real conversation and to get to know each other. I know that, don't you worry that pretty head little of yours."

"T-thank you, Harlan. I- I don't even know how to tell you j-just how sorry I am for everything."

"Well then, how about you don't?" he slightly pulls back from you to look at your face, "You don't have a single thing to be sorry for, [y/n]."

It feels like someone just took a huge weight off of your shoulders as he finishes his sentence, you let out a deep breath that you didn't know you've been holding until now, relief washing over you as you realize that he never thought of you as a bad, ungrateful person.

"Come on in, darling. You're freezing." he says as he walks the two of you back into the safety of Hilltop before the gate closes behind you, making you jump slightly at the noise.

"I'm gonna go get Jesus, he's gonna be really happy to see you. That man really cares about you, you know." he says with a smile as he walks towards the big mansion sitting in the middle of the village.

One of the man guarding the gate, the one who spoke to you a few minutes ago, comes to you, scratching the back of his neck as you look down, pulling on your fingers again, "Hey, look- Shit, I'm sorry for the hostility, I just-uh. Y'know, we have issues with Negan and, well, we don't have much left."

"No," you look up at him, "d-don't apologize, I totally get it, I really do. It's okay if you don't trust me, I get it. But, for what it's worth... I truly am sorry about what's happening to you guys, it's unfair and uncalled for."

"Uh, I-" he looks shocked and you wonder if these people ever get the sightliest bit of compassion from anyone but themselves anymore which isn't exactly a pleasant thought, "Thank you. I'm Andy by the way." he says as he extends his hand for you to shake.

"I- [Y/n], nice to meet you, Andy." you answer with a shy smile, your small hand shaking his.

"Nice to meet you too." he says with a genuine smile, clearly more relaxed now.

You hear the big mansion's front door opening, turn your attention to the big building and run into Jesus' arms the second he comes into view and he carefully catches you before bringing you closer to him, letting you curl up in his chest.

"Hey there, little one'" he whispers with a smile against the top of your head and gently kisses it before wrapping his arms around your much smaller frame, "What are you doing out here, [y/n]?"

"I think I ran away." you whisper, looking up at him, as if it was supposed to be a secret.

"You think you ran away?" he says, amused by your confusion about your own situation.

"Yeah," you say as you turn your head back down on his chest, pressing your left cheek against it, "I told Dwight that I'll be back in three hours but, well, that was nine hours ago."

Jesus lets out a small laugh, making his chest vibrate against your head, "Well, I just got back from a supply run which means that my day is done. How about you stick around and hang out with me for a bit?" he asks with a smile.

"C-can I?" you ask, excited, your eyes sparkling with excitement and envy.

"Of course, [y/n]...but you have to help me load the supplies out of the truck, 'cause, like, you don't want to be impolite and all."

"Of couuuurse there's a catch, you're the worst." you over-dramatically whine before throwing your head back like a tantrum-throwing child.

"What? Afraid you won't be able to lift anything, s'that it?" he says teasingly.

You have to admit that you love the fact that he's not afraid to challenge you like this instead of treating you as if you're made out of paper thin glass even though he knows damn well about the state's your body is in. Hell, he saw it first hand after all.

"Y'know, for a dude that gets called Jesus? You're surprisingly evil."

"Yeah, I know, right? I even drink milk directly out of the bottle sometimes and you know what else?" he slowly leans down to face you, "I also eat cereals... without any milk, completely dry." he says with an awful "villain" laugh and you're pretty sure that he's mimicking Negan's which makes it all even more hilarious to you.

You both end up bursting out in laughter in the middle of the small community, Harlan watching the two of you from afar with a smile on his face, happy to see both Jesus and you laughing happily and enjoying each other's company.


10:00 PM //

"Okay, okay, what about... The smell of the walkers?" you ask with a smile on your face.

"It's a good reminder that we're not like them, we're alive." Jesus says, turning his head slightly to look at you, both of his forearms comfortably resting underneath his head.

The two of you are lying down on the rooftop of Gregory's mansion, you're completely wrapped in one of Jesus' coat and you've been stargazing for hours now whilst talking about everything and literally anything.

"Good point. I'm still not used to it though, y'know? I've met so many people who used to say that we all get used to it a some point but... I just can't seem to. I mean- How are you supposed to get used to the smell of rotting corpses?"

"I honestly don't know, [y/n]. I'm not used to it either, I don't want to get used to it. It's like I said, it's a good reminder that we're still here, we're still living through it all."

You tear your eyes away from the star filled sky to look at Paul who's still looking at you with a smile on his face, "I just wish that- Ugh, sorry, just- forget it." you say, looking back at the sky in an attempt to ease the feeling of awkwardness and slight sadness you're getting.

"Tell me, what'd you wish for?" he asks with genuine concern and curiosity in his voice.

"I just- You know- Ugh." you take a deep breath and force yourself to keep your eyes fixed on the stars covering the beautiful night sky, "Sometimes I just wish that I could just- End it. But t-then- I ju-just keep wondering; w-what if I miss out on really cool things, you-you know?" a single tear escapes your eye as you finally let that heavy thought out.

"[Y/n]-" Jesus slowly sits down and takes a long look at your face as you're still laying down, "You don't know just how important you are, do you? You're gentle, kind, you have to be the prettiest girl I've ever seen." he chuckles when you whine and blush at his words, "You're incredibly smart, you care about people and you're still so innocent, this Earth needs you to stay going, [y/n]. You seriously give me hope when it comes to the situation we're all in and, hell, there's a lot of good people living here, really good people, but you- You're beyond being a really good person, I don't really know how to put it to be honest." he looks at you as you carefully sit down next to him, still avoiding his gaze, "Let's just say that, if I could, I'd totally adopt you."

You let out a giggle at his words. For some reason Jesus always seems to be able to make you smile or laugh even when you're at your worst.

You hear him laugh next to you and you shyly lean your head against his broad right shoulder, closing your eyes as he brings his whole arm around you to bring you closer to him and let you nuzzle your head into the crook of his shoulder before kissing the top of your head.

"You'll be alright, kiddo. You've been through too much to give up now. I know it's hard and I can't even begin to imagine just how hard it must be for you being all alone and heal, pushing through depression every single day without any medical help is seriously impressive, I know I wouldn't fuck around with you that's for damn sure." he brings you a slight bit closer to him and talks softly in your hear, "Your depression is nothing to be ashamed of, [y/n], you hear me? You're not worth less than anyone else, you deserve happiness, you deserve safety, you deserve to be taken care of, you deserve to be surrounded by good people, people who actually care about you, are we clear?"

You just nod your head quickly against his chest, tears flowing out of your eyes, they're good tears, tears of relief. You don't know how he realized that you do suffer from a severe depression but you're glad that he seems to be able to see right through you, it makes for easier communication, especially giving the fact that you suffer with selective mutism.

"I'm scared, Paul." you whisper as if you didn't really want him to catch your words but he does.

"I know, [y/n]. But you don't have to be, I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

"Don't write checks you can't cash." you whisper again but he hears you loud and clear.

"Is that a challenge?" he says with a small smile, getting one from you in return as you recall him saying the same thing in the exact same tone when you told him that he couldn't keep on giving you his clothes.

You're scared, scared of loosing him after he made you feel so safe and valued, scared of him getting tired of your tears, scared of him abandoning you because you're too much to handle, you're just scared of being all alone again yet you're so prepared for it.

no, it's not a challenge, it's a plea.






You finally spot the Sanctuary's gates, it's so cold outside, your whole body is shaking and you can't feel your face anymore. You're thankful that Jesus gave you one of his jacket to keep you warm since the only thing covering your upper body is a t-shirt.

You try to push the gate open but it's locked tight and you feel like screaming.

of course it's fucking locked...

You try to see if you can spot whoever is on duty at the gate tonight but the moonlight isn't enough for you to see clearly.

we should just go back to hilltop, after all, jesus did say that we could stay the night if we wanted to, so... yeah?

You seriously consider your options for a second as you push your backpack further up on your back, your right hand is tightly wrapped around your bow as you stay prepared for the eventuality of a walker popping out of nowhere, especially in the dark.

You also have a bag full of supplies, medical supplies, food, five guns and a few bullets waiting for Negan to pick up. You kept your promise to always bring whatever you find out there to him, and yes, you're pissed to do so but you have your codes and rules; keeping your promises when it's possible for you to do so being one of them, you're stuck.

"[Y/n]?" you hear Connor's voice coming out of the dark and you finally spot him as he runs up to you, quickly opening the gate for you to get in, "You scared the shit out of us! Negan almost sent us back out there to look for you and we were more than willing to do so! What the hell!? You can't just run off like that! What in the fuck were you thinking?!" he says, relieved to see that you're safe and sound, but he clearly was scared shitless and his body is showing it, he's shaking and his eyes are glossy with tears.

You don't think twice about it and hug him tightly, getting on your tiptoes to hide your head in the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry, Connor. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare anyone, I didn't mean to worry you. I never want you to think that I would run off without saying goodbye, ever." you whisper as he relaxes against you, "I'm sorry, I just needed some alone time, I really, really, needed this."

"You feelin' any better, princess?" he asks, still holding you tightly against him.

"I dunno, I- I'm kind of lost right now," you softly let go of him, immediately missing his body heat, to look at him, "but- I will be, eventually. It can't always be rainbows and sunshine but it can't always be all bad either, right?"

"Yeah, can't have light without darkness and all that crap." he says with a genuine smile and a small chuckle.

"You didn't strike me as a poet, Connor." you say, making fun of him for his lake of optimism.

"They call me Van-Gogh."

"That's a painter, Connor."

"Yeah? Well- Could he write his name and his fucking email address in the snow with his piss?"

"You're so delicate, I swear- Wait, you can actually write your email address too?"

"I knew I liked you for a reason, you ask the real important questions." he says with a laugh making you laugh along.

Your little moment is cut short by the sound of a throat being roughly cleared and it seems to be enough for Connor to shyly wave you goodbye and to go back to his post along the fences.

"What'd you think I should do to you, uh?" Negan's scruffy voice sends the worst kind of shivers down your spine as he steps right in front of you and it takes every last drop of courage you have for you not to look down.

"I don't know, whatever you think would be in order, boss." you answer, sounding way colder than you intended to.

"Oh, so now I'm your "boss", uh?" he asks through his clenched jaw, clearly not please with his actual status. He normally demands to be called boss and only boss by his "employees" and even though you're supposed to be one of 'em, you're not to him so, yeah, he's pissed.

You let out a small sigh, not in the mood to get in another fight with him, "Here you go, boss." you quietly say as you throw the bag filled with supplies at his feet with a nonchalant attitude before walking past him, slightly brushing his arm with your shoulder as you walk by him to get inside the compound and to go back to your room to try and get some sleep.

You realized just how much of a contrast it makes when you spend time with Jesus and then with Negan, it's way different, way way different. But, oddly enough, and even though you hate it, you enjoy both, for different reasons and in different ways but still, you enjoy both companies.

Negan's rough hand harshly grabs your wrist to bring you back outside before you can even take another step inside the compound and roughly pushes you against a cold, hard wall making you hiss in slight pain and discomfort.

"We need to fuckin' talk, doll." he says through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, we do." you say, looking down as you're trying not to stutter, "Thing is, I'm pretty sure we don't see eye to eye when it comes to which issue we need to discuss, Negan." you finish without stuttering once but with tears filling your eyes instead.

"Oh, so now we have fuckin' issues, uh? Alright then, dolly, how 'bout that, I tell you what's fucking bugging the hell out of me and then, maybe, you'll get to tell me what in the holy fuck is going on with you?"

He's so close to you, you can feel his breath hitting your forehead as he's leaned forward to try and catch a glimpse of your eyes since you're looking at the ground beneath you.

"You almost got into a fucking fight with Sherry, you fuckin' walked away from me this morning when we were in the middle of a goddamn conversation, you fucking ignored me when I fuckin' called after you, you went outside the fucking compound after what happened to you a fucking day ago," he voice is starting to sound more and more angry as he keeps on listing your recent activities, "you fucking told Dwight that you'll be back in three fucking hours and you show up fifteen fucking hours later! Where the fuck were you, uh? Fucking shit, doll, you've been giving me so much fucking attitude, you keep on fucking disobeying me, you're constantly defying me and you fucking talk back too." he takes a step closer to you and crush your shaking body between the rough wall behind you and his body, his breathing uneven and his jaw clenched, "I'm getting seriously pissed with all the shit you seem to enjoy putting me through, not only your fucking attitude, nah, you're constant fucking teasing too. Y'know what you need, doll? I think you need a good o'l punishment."

You want to ask him so many questions such as; what constant teasing? how can you possibly tease him when you have no idea what that's even supposed to fucking look like? when you don't fucking know how to even "flirt"? But the only one that comes out of your mouth is; "W-what? Y-you're gonna give Lucille a-another go at me?" you're still looking down, tears falling out of your eyes to directly fall on the hard ground and Negan is so close to you right now that you can't even see your boots anymore, all you can see are his legs.

"Nah, as much I love to see my two favorite girls play together," he slightly tilts his head with a wicked grin on his lips which seriously worries and scares you, "I'll be the one doing the spanking this time and, y'know, no matter how bad you though Lucille was on your ass, I'm gonna be much, much, worse, doll. You think you ever seen me pissed? Let me change that real quick."

You don't get to process what's happening when you're thrown on his broad shoulder as he walks towards his quarters, his grip on you is awfully tight and it actually hurts but you can't say nor do a damn thing, you're completely paralyzed by fear and frustration, you're frustrated by the things he does to you, the way he makes you feel, you're really confused by it all.

You really start to panic when a door is slammed shut and another one clicks shut a few seconds after. You start to wiggle around, trying to get free, on his shoulder when you realize that you're now in his bedroom.

you're in his room... you're in negan's room... you are in negan's bedroom... the bedroom that belongs to negan... lol, fuck no.

He sets you down on the carpet covered floor and you quickly take several steps back until your back hit the door leading out of his bedroom and to his office.

"What the hell, Negan?"

"What happened to "boss", baby doll?" he says with a mean smile.

"What happened to me not wanting to be in your headquarters? What happened to me not wanting to be in your freaking bedroom? What happened to being a man of your words?!" you quickly turn around and pull at the doorknob, wiggling it pointlessly because Negan locked the damn door and the key is God knows where.

he probably swallowed it and now you're stuck in here with him forever 'cause that's totally something negan would do.

You sigh and let your forehead fall repeatedly on the hard wooden door, tears filling your eyes as you realize just how vulnerable you are whenever he's around and now you're literally stuck in a room with him. 

"C'mere, baby girl, you're not going anywhere any time soon anyway." his voice is right behind you and you can feel his breath on your exposed neck as your hair are still resting in a messy bun on top of your head, "I didn't know my baby was tattooed." he says with a grin as he looks at the black feathers going down the back of your neck and disappearing beneath your shirt.

"You're full of crap, Negan." you turn around and muster up enough courage to look him straight in the eyes, "You talk big but you never do shit."

"Watch the way you speak to me, [y/n]." he spits in an angry tone, clearly aggravated by your behavior and your words, "No one ever came in this fucking room but me and no one ever slept in this fucking bed but me, doll. So fucking relax, you're the only person who ever even fucking caught a fucking glimpse of my damn bedroom."

For some reason, it actually soothes you to know that you're the only girl that's ever been in his bedroom but it doesn't really appease you though. He's clearly pissed and you know that he actually meant it when he said that you weren't going anywhere any time soon.

You watch carefully as he walks up to his bed before sitting at the edge of the mattress. He looks down and lets out a loud sigh followed with a small laugh before looking back up at you and extending his hand out for you to take just like Andy did earlier but you seriously doubt that Negan is actually asking for an handshake right now.

"C'mon, doll, you either take my hand or I'm coming over to get you myself and I'm pretty sure you don't want that." he says in a firm yet somehow gentle tone.

You shakily take his hand and it immediately closes itself up around your smaller, shaky one as Negan brings you right in front of him with a little too much force resulting in you slightly losing your balance but he quickly puts his hand on your tummy to balance you back up.

"T-thank you." you say with red cheeks as your blood is rushing through them and it feels like its forgetting to actually go through your brain as well.

"You're welcome, baby girl." he says with a smirk on his face, his eyes scanning your body from head to toe,"Pants off, dolly."

You almost choke on your own spit at his words but he doesn't seem faced by your reaction, it actually seems to make him smile if anything, "W-what?"

"Y'heard me, pants off, now, you can keep your panties if you want but the pants are going. C'mon, chop chop." he says, clapping his hands together twice, that cocky smirk of his still splattered on his face, making you blush furiously.

"N-negan, I-" you can't talk properly so you just shake your head left and right whilst looking down at the soft floor.

"Look at me, doll." he says as he gently, well the "negan" version of gentle, grabs your face with his right hand, "It's not just me, you fucked up when you didn't respect our lil' contract today, yeah?" there's nothing you can do or say to that because he's right, you didn't respect the rules he's set when he was nice enough not to take all of your freedom away so you just nod your head yes, "Alright then, d'you know what happens when someone misbehave here? I burn half of their fucking face off or they get something chopped off, now, I don't what to do none of that to you, baby girl, I just fucking don't, but you gotta learn that you just can't keep on being so fucking disobedient. A spanking's the only thing I have in mind for ya, dolly. Like I said, you gotta learn and, damn, m'not gonna lie, I'm more than happy to show you what happens when you misbehave if it means that I get to touch and see your bubbly lil' ass again, baby." he finishes with a cocky smile as your cheeks are slowly melting off of your face because of the heat in them.

You shakily reach for the button of your jeans and slowly undo it, your pants immediately dropping on the floor, pooling at your ankles, since they're way too big for you and the small button was the only thing keeping them up around your waist. You gasp when you feel the denim dropping so quickly, exposing your shaky thighs and legs to Negan.

Your body is still sore and bruised but all your wounds are closed by now even though they're not healed yet.

"Good girl, now, c'mere." he says whilst tapping his lap with a cheeky smirk.

not helping, you ass bag...

You hesitantly take a shy step towards him, your eyes fixed on the floor still, but his hand gets a hold of you and quickly brings you to him, pushing you down on his laps, your legs resting on his thighs and your head flush against the mattress before you can even blink.

"Damn, look at that." you feel his hand gently touching the soft skin of your butt, his touch is feather like as he traces what you know to be the scars Lucille left on your skin, you only feel his fingertips because of your body's hypersensitivity, "Lucille sure did make a number on ya, didn't she, doll? Fuck, that must have hurt like a big o'l bitch, uh?" he says with a rather dark small laugh before grabbing an handful of your bum, making you squeal.

"Now, I want you to count every single spank I'll give you out loud and you better say thank you afterwards. You miss one," he pauses and harshly grabs a handful of your hair, violently making your back arch and bringing your head up, making you cry out, his mouth right next to your left ear, "You miss one, and I'll start all over again. Hell, I'll even fucking double the damn number just 'cause you really pissed me off today with your goddamn disobedient attitude, we clear?"

"Y-yes, Negan."

Your cheeks are burning up, you can't believe you're laying down on his laps, waiting for him to punish you yet again, but you're grateful that Lucille isn't part of it this time though, that damn bat left some serious bruises on your butt cheeks and you don't really wish for more right about now.

You let out a cry of pain when his hand comes down on your left cheek, your first reflex is to try and get away from him but you quickly calm down and bite down on your lip, remembering his instructions.

"O-one, t-thank you daddy."

you did not...

You hear him let out a low grunt inside your left ear and you're not sure if it's because he likes it or because he's mad about it, "God fucking damn, baby girl. You're being really good right now, see, it ain't that hard now, is it?" he says with a cocky smile, trying to ignore the fact that his cock just twitched when the word "daddy" came out of your mouth.

He remembers the way the same exact word sounded like when it came out of another woman's mouth, how he almost gagged because of it but, fuck, hearing you say it is something he truly craves and, fuck, he almost regrets starting this whole thing now that he's heard it coming out of your mouth like that, he knows that it'll only make it way harder for him to control himself, he's barely able to do so right now.

He brings his hand down a second time and tightens his grip on your hair, making sure to hold you in place.

"Two! T-thank you, daddy." you cry out, your bum burning slightly, he was right, he is way worse than Lucille actually was.

"You're my baby girl, doll. These other women are just here to be here. You're my only baby girl and I'm your only daddy, that's how it is and that's how it's gonna stay."

A small needy noise comes out of your mouth, surprising the two of you. For some reason, knowing that you're the only one he sees and threats that way does something to you, you don't know what but the noise that just came out of your mouth gives Negan a huge hint as to what the "thing" it does to you is; pure arousal.

"Yeah, you love having daddy's attention, don't you baby girl?"

"Y-yes, daddy, I do." you admit, not being able to keep quiet anymore.

His hand comes down on your butt for the third time now, making you jump forward on his laps as you brings your hands up on the mattress to give you some balance and to relief the burning feeling of Negan pulling your hair just to be able to speak directly into your left ear.

"T-Three! Thank you, daddy."

"So needy." his voice is even more gravely that it usually is and you get an odd feeling in your tummy, "You've been giving daddy so much attitude today, you've been so fucking bad, sneakin' out behind my back, throwin' shit at me, talkin' back to me, fuck, tellin' me to fucking forget about you?"

"I'm sorry." you whine, wiggling around on his laps, already missing his touch.

His hand comes down again and this one seriously stings you as you try to get your butt away from him but he's still firmly holding you in place, his free hand still tangled in your hair, preventing you from going anywhere. You quickly calm down and count the fourth spank, thanking him afterwards.

"Where the fuck were you, uh?" he asks with a snarl as he gives you a fifth spank, making you wince.

"H-hilltop, I was at Hilltop! Five, that's five. Thank you, daddy."

"Hilltop, uh? Jesus kept you company I'm guessing, doll?" he says clearly getting angry again just as he was starting to calm down.

"Y-yes but-"

You don't get to finish, your yes is enough for him to snap and lash out on you as he brings his hand down on your butt four times in a row, forcing you to count out loud every single one of them and to thank him for it.

When finally gets to the fourteenth spank, you're in tears, your butt hurts like hell, it feels numb but it's not at all, you can feel blood running down on your thighs and his hand gently rubs your cheeks as he slowly lets go of your hair and grips your jaw instead to make you face him before rubbing the tip of his nose against the tip of yours.

"One more and you're all done, princess." he whispers, his breath hitting your parted lips and, just as you're about to protest and tell him that you can't take one more, he brings his hand down on your left butt cheek one last time and this one makes you sob out and collapse on the bed.

Not letting your tears get to him, Negan reaches for your jaw once again and brings you back up, his mouth right against your ear as he speaks, "Count it, baby girl." when all he gets from you is a sob and some more tears, he simply brings his hand to your left butt cheek again and simply let it rest there, the threat in the touch not getting lost on you and you jump at the contact, stumbling to finds your words, "C'mon, princess, you've been so fuckin' good for me, just count it and it'll be over, baby. Don't make me start that shit all over again, we both know I fucking will." with that, he gives your left butt cheek a threatening squeeze and your entire body flinches on his lap as you try to squirm away from his hand.

"No, no, no! F-Fifteen, t-that fifteen! Thank you, daddy, I'm sorry! I won't d-do it again, promise." you sob out, your legs shaking and your bum throbbing and stinging like hell but it all seems to go away when Negan's lips find yours and give you an oddly gentle kiss.

Carefully, he lifts you up and off of his laps before gently lay you down on your stomach on his satin sheets covered bed and walking to his bathroom, leaving you alone for a few seconds as he looks for something to soothe your pain and to keep bruises from forming on your butt.

You cry into the mattress but you're not sure why. It's a mix between the pain you're feeling in your backside and the awful feeling you get from misbehaving so much that Negan got mad at you. You're completely lost, you're tired and your whole body hurts and aches, not to mention the horrible discomfort you're feeling in your tummy, it's like there's something tugging down in your guts and it's weird, you don't much care for it.

"Hey, princess, c'mere." Negan coos as he drags you on the mattress and closer to him, his taller frame hovering over you as he stays standing while you're laying on his bed. You whine and try to squirm away from his hands when you feel him tugging at the waistband of your panties, "Shh, baby, s'okay. M'not gonna do anythin' to ya. You trust me?" you're so quick to whisper a "yes" and nod your head that it's almost embarrassing but neither of you seem to care.

Cautiously, he pushes your panties down just below the mounds of your butt and you're too busy hiding your embarrassment to even hear the guttural grunt Negan lets out at the sight of you. You squeal when you feel something really cold hitting the heated, throbbing, skin of your bum as Negan gently puts lotion on both cheeks to sooth your soreness.

Once he's done, he wipes his hands on his jeans and carefully push your panties back up to cover up your butt before he softly carries you under the sheets of his bed, you'd protest but his mattress is so soft and his smell is all over the pillows so you just stay calm and let him take care of you. You feel his hand going under your t-shirt, running along your back and leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake before unclasping your bra, letting you take it off on your own as he doesn't want to cross any more line tonight.

You rest your head against a soft, cool pillow and feel your heart in your throat when you see Negan walking towards the door of his bedroom.

"Wait- no- st-stay, please." you plead with tears in your eyes.

"Doll, I don't want to do something you're not comfortable with." he says with a small laugh before tilting his head, "Again." he adds, clearly referring to the spanking he just gave you.

"But I'm c-comfortable with it!"

"Baby girl," he slowly walks back to you and sits down next to your legs on his bed, "it's not that I don't want to share my bed with you, hell, that's all I fucking want but- Not when my dick is rock hard, princess." he says with a cocky smile as he watches your cheeks get to a darker shade of red.

He slowly gets back up but you quickly sit on the mattress and reach out to grab his huge hand in your smaller one, keeping him from walking away, "Doll-"

"Let me fix it then, I- I wanna fix it." you whisper, shyly looking down at the satin sheets covering your bare legs, your hand shaking in his.

"Baby girl- fucking shit." he's getting light headed from your words alone and he feels his cock twitching in his briefs, begging for release.

"We-we don't have to do- y'know- the thing," you whisper the last word, "b-but, lemme fix this, teach me, p-pretty please?"

He's lost his will to keep you from touching him and completely gives into you, he can't take it anymore. Plus you're clearly okay with it so he might as well take the hand he's quite literally being given.

He quickly gets rid of his leather jacket and his white t-shirt, throwing the items of clothing on the floor before kicking his boots and socks off. He slowly gets back up and looks at you, looking for a sign to stop but he only sees your eyes glued to the big bulge deforming his pants which amuses him. He quickly undo his jeans and kick them off but keep his boxers on before climbing in the bed next to you, covering his lower body with the sheets before looking at you.

"What do I do?" you whisper as if you were about do to something super secret that no one knows about.

"C'mere, baby girl." he softly demands as he brings you closer to him, laying you against the right side of his body, "There, now, gimme your right hand, princess." you do as you're told and give him your shaky right hand, your cheeks burning a crimson red as he takes it in his own hand.

"Promise me you'll tell me if it gets too much for you, baby." he says looking straight into your eyes.

"I p-promise."

He looks at you one last time and kisses your lips with need as he slowly guides both of your hands underneath the sheets down to his briefs which he quickly puts down with his free hand as his lips are still assaulting yours.

"Open your hand, baby doll." he whispers against yours lips as he looks straight into your eyes which are now filled with curiosity and excitement.

You slowly open your hand underneath the sheets and let him guide you to carefully wrap it around his throbbing erection, grunting when he feels your small soft hand around him as you bite down on your lip, carefully watching his face, his eyes are way darker than they usually are and his chest is quickly going up and down as he looks at you and gives you a cocky smirk.

"Your hand's too small for daddy, doll face."

You ignore his words and curiously move your hand up on his cock and still when he lets out a groan, unsure if you were supposed to do that or not.

"Fucking fuck, keep going, baby girl, keep moving your hand up and down."

You relax a bit as he makes it clear that you didn't hurt him at all and start moving your hand up and down on him, moving agonizingly slow.

"Ugh, baby girl, rub your lil' thumb on top of it."

You let your head rest on his heaving chest as he lays back on the bed, his head propped on his pillow, and curiously move your thumb around until you finally find a round, soft part on his cock which you assume was where he wanted you to touch him so you start rubbing your thumb in small circles on it, making him grunt below you.

"Daddy, it's wet, why's it wet?" you ask genuinely curious about the whole thing, you never touched a man like that before and you don't even see what the hell is going on since he covered it all up but you assume that that's how he wanted it to be and you think it might be for the best because whatever's down there is freaking huge and full of thick veins but it's oddly nice to touch which is weird to you but you like it so you don't question it.

"It's uh- fucking hell - it's just 'cause I'm having a fucking blast right now, dolly." he groans through heavy breaths and low grunts, clearly enjoying himself. 

You can hear small wet noises coming from under the sheets and you can't hold your curiosity any longer. You gently lift up the sheets and a gasp escapes your parted lips as you see Negan's erection heavily laying in your small hand, the tip of it is a pretty soft pink and it's shinning with pre-cum that's dripping down on your hand and you carefully go back to moving it up and down, spreading the sticky liquid all over him before looking up at his face.

"It's so p-pretty." you say with red cheeks as you look into Negan's eyes.

"You're fucking killing me, baby girl." his breaths are getting faster and faster and so is the movement of your hand, you just let it naturally happen, you don't really control it and you don't really care, you just want to please Negan right now and, damn, you're doing it.

"Fucking - holy shit - fuck." he starts to let out a dictionary worth of curses, his eyes closing and his head digging further into his pillow as you carefully watch it all happen, you don't have a damn clue as to what's happening but it sure as shit is happening.

Your eyes widen in surprise when you feel a hot, sticky liquid running directly down on your fingers and you quickly look down as Negan keeps on cursing his heart out, to see a white, thick looking, liquid spurt right out of him in long stripes to land all over his tummy and your hand.

"A-are you okay? Did I- I, no- Did I hurt you?" you say completely panicked as tears fill your eyes again, the last thing you wanted was to hurt him.

"Hell no, shit, you didn't hurt me, baby." he pauses to catch his breath and reaches into his bedside table, getting a box a tissues out of it before wiping himself clean and cleaning your hand as well. He carelessly throw the used tissues on the floor and slides his briefs back on, looking completely spent, "Remember when we had a lil' fun in your room three days ago?" you slowly nod your head, your cheeks burning at the memory, and Negan wipes a tear off your face, "Well that's exactly what happened to me except that you didn't see it happen 'cause I busted in my fuckin' jeans last time, baby girl. That's why I kept that shit covered but curiosity killed the cat, hey?" he teases with an amused smile.

"I'm sorry, I j-just really wanted t-to see."

"S'okay baby, don't worry, I didn't do it for me, I did it for you." he eyelids are getting heavy and so are yours, your tummy feels even worse now but you don't mention it, you just keep it to yourself.

The lights in the room are turned off and, directly after, you feel Negan's arms bringing you into his chest, his right hand creeping underneath your shirt to come rest on your tummy and he smiles when he doesn't feel you tensing or trying to get away from him.

"Sleep tight, angel face." he whispers, kissing your neck, undoing your bun and resting his head back down as his thumb gently rubs random patterns on the soft skin of your tummy.

"Good night, daddy." you say with a small smile resulting in Negan chuckling against your neck and pushing you closer to him before you both fall deeply asleep.

It's an odd feeling but, for the first time since what feels like forever, you're looking forward to tomorrow and it's a welcome change, no matter how stress inducing it might be.

Chapter Text

6:45 AM //

Your eyes slowly flutter open, rays of sunlight invading the room as memories of the night before hit you like a rock, panic taking over you as you remember falling asleep in Negan's arms, in his bed, and a knot forms in your stomach.

"What is wrong with me?" you whisper as you slowly sit down on the mattress you're on, directly shoving your head into your hands.

You don't know what you feel guilty for exactly but you can name a few things; the fact that he sweet talked you back in his arms again, the fact that you completely gave in to him and the fact that none of the issues you two have has been solved in the sightliest.

You carefully take your head out of your shaking hands, not really ready to face what happened last night and especially not Negan. Your eyebrows furrow in pure confusion as you look around and realize that you're not in the room you were locked in last night or in the bed you recall falling asleep in, no, you're under warm blankets, in your own bed, in your bedroom.

what the hell?

You look around, confused as to what's going on, tears of pure panic filling your eyes for a reason you can't seem to identify, when you spot a small piece of paper neatly folded on your nightstand, waiting for you to open and read it. You quickly grab it with a shaky hand and open it.

"Didn't want to wake you up, baby girl, so I had Simon carry you back to your bedroom before the girls woke up.
Nothing personal, doll, I just don't have the fucking time to deal with that kind of drama.

You feel your stomach tightening, your whole body aching and your eyes filled to the brim with tears again. He didn't want drama? He fucking had Simon bringing you back to your bedroom whilst you were asleep? What the hell is wrong with this man?

You close your hand on the piece of paper and throw it on the floor before burying your head in your pillow and letting a loud scream of frustration and pain out into it as the soft fabric slowly gets soaked with your tears.

Sure, you were anxious about waking up next to him and having to face him after what happened last night and, sure, you didn't know if you actually wanted to have a conversation with him about it or if you would chicken out and resolve to going back to the hell-ish, messy and unhealthy relationship you two seem to be stuck in but what you do know is that; the way he handled it makes you feel more vulnerable and gross than you've ever felt in your entire life.

seems like he took that decision for ya if you ask me, darling... you should've listen to me when I was literally screaming at you to fucking stop, you have a god damn conscience and it ain't here to hurt ya, quite the opposite actually.

You let out a small sigh of defeat as you realize that you, indeed, did not listen to your own protests last night and you feel like the price that you're paying for it right now- Well, it wasn't worth it, not at all.

You feel asleep so peacefully last night, you actually were even kind of looking forward to tomorrow but, now that tomorrow turned into today, you wish that none of what happened yesterday happened but it doesn't change the fact that it did and now you're left on your own to deal with pure guilt, anger and disgust because you can't even blame him for letting it happen since you recall being the one practically begging for it.

You let out a deep sigh, trying to find some courage and strength to get up and go take your morning shower but it's proving to be a really hard thing to do for you this morning.

It's not the first time you have to literally drag yourself out of bed, staying in bed all day and oversleeping being symptoms of depression, you've been dealing with that exact same situation over and over again but, today? It seems to be painfully complicated for you to actually push yourself over that fence.

"I can't do this anymore." you whisper to yourself, your lower lip shaking.

A soft knock on your door makes you jump and you quickly dry your tears with your hands before hesitantly making your way to your door and slowly opening it, not too eager to talk or even see anyone at all today.

"Wakey wakey! How's my favorite lil' shit doin' today?" Simon says with a big smile as he leans against the frame of your door, making sure that it stays open.

"H-hi Simon." you say, looking down at your hand, trying to avoid eye contact as you remember Negan's note saying that Simon was the one who brought you back to your room last night.

"Hey, look," he leans a small bit towards you, quickly looking around before putting his eyes back on your flushed face, "I ain't here to judge shit, okay? Hell, I don't really give a fuck about what happened between you two, so, let's just relax a lil' bit, yeah? You're so tense I could use you as a plank to smack a bitch."

You let out a small giggle at his odd choice of words, your hands nervously pulling at the hem of your t-shirt, "O-okay, th-thank you."

"Like I said, none of my fucking business, pumpkin. Alright!" he claps his hands together, making you look up at him, "Today's schedule! I heard that you take a shower every damn morning so, go do that, get dressed, then you'll go eat somethin' and wait outside in the main yard, I'll tell you what's there to do around the damn place, go it?" he asks with a raised eyebrow, waiting for you to answer and you do with a small nod of your head, "Thatta girl. Catch ya later, pumpkin."

You look a mess but you know that a shower is the best of remedy for you right now so, you quickly look left and right, making sure that no one is walking around in the long corridor leading to the bedrooms and to the communal showers and, once you decide that the coast is clear, you make a run for it.

You try to stay as quiet as possible not to wake anyone up but you can hear Simon's big voice booming through the hallways as he yells "Rise and fucking shine, it's fucking morning kids!" which is kind of funny to you but also makes your whole "let's not make a single noise and be nice to the sleeping people" attitude completely irrelevant.





You thank your lucky stars as you make your way to the showers without coming across anyone and quickly undress before entering the cabin you usually take your shower in, letting the water warm up a bit before going right under the spray and letting the hot water hit your body, sighing as your muscles finally relax a bit.

maybe, just maybe, you needed things to go that far with him just to realize that he's no good at all. maybe, just maybe, now you're gonna be able to move on from him. after all, your life has been nothing but messy ever since he came into it.

After a good thirty minutes, you turn the water off and wrap a big towel around your shaking body, quickly dry your hair and brushing your teeth before grabbing the black t-shit and the pair of undies you came in with, bunching them up into a ball against your chest before walking back to your room as quickly as you can without drawing attention to yourself.

You open the door of your bedroom and let out a relieved sigh as the door clicks shut but your relief is quickly replaced by a huge heart attack as you turn around and see Randall sitting on your mattress, a smile on his face, as a squeal leaves your mouth and you drop the pile of clothes you've been holding, your blind panic making him laugh.

"OH MY FREAKING GOD! RANDALL, WHAT THE HELL?!" you grip your towel tightly as you become hyper-aware of the fact that that's the only thing hiding your birthday suit from him right now and grab your pillow to throw it at his face angrily, "You- You suck! You're the worst, what the frack?!"

He holds your pillow against his chest tightly as he keeps on laughing, tears rolling down his face as his laughter goes completely out of control which causes you to smile against your will and, eventually, a giggle, then a genuine laugh, rolls out of your mouth and you end up laughing along with him.

"You're a prick."

"You love me, princess."

"No, I don't, I hate you actually. I almost peed myself because of you."

"Aw, poor lil' [y/n], I'm so mean to you." he whines with a pout, clearly mocking you.

"Yeah, you are, you're the worst."

He smiles and stands up before pointing down at your bed, "I just wanted to bring you some new clothes, pretty girl, seriously didn't mean to scare the shit outta you like that... Even though that definitely made my day, gotta admit."

"Oh, shush." you pout and punch his shoulder in a friendly manner before taking a look at the pile of clothes, "Randall, this tank top is yours and," you pull out a pair of dark denim jeans, "those are as well, why are you giving me your clothes, what about you?"

"Don't worry about me, I have a bunch of those, I just- y'know," he nervously scratches the back of his head, "I was on laundry duty yesterday and I noticed that you only have, like, four decent clothes and the rest are just pieces of tissue with holes, so, I thought, maybe... I mean-"

"Thank you." you smile and hug him, forgetting about your nudity for a second to hold him tightly against you, "Aaaand now we're stuck like this forever 'cause I'm not holding my towel anymore and if you pull away it'll fall and I'll explode, so, yeah, you're stuck with me, buddy."

"Sounds like a pretty good deal to me." he laughs against the top of your head before leaning down to gently kiss your forehead, "I'll cover my eyes, grab your towel and pull away, promise I won't peak." he closes his eyes tightly, making his eyebrows furrow, and actually covers his eyes with both of his hands too to seal the deal and you quickly get a small grip on your towel, pull away and turn around before wrapping the soft fabric around your now dry body.

"Thanks." you say, signaling to him that you're covered.

"Hi." he says with a small laugh as he lets his hands fall from his eyes and blinks a couple of times to readjust to the light in the room.

"Hi." you answer with a small smile but the sadness in your voice doesn't go unnoticed by Randall.

"Hey, what's going on, princess?" he asks, worry filling his voice.

"I uh- Randall-" a single tear escapes your eyes, "Sorry I just uh- Today's just one of those days, y'know? I'm just- Just a bit down, sorry."

we're leaving, tell him we're leaving for god's sake!

"Something happened?"

negan happened.

"No, no, just- Just a bad day, that's all, really."

He looks at you, not sure if he can actually believe what you're saying. He knows that you have your very own ways to express yourself, your own ways to show affection, anger and sadness which is something he absolutely loves about you. He loves that nothing about you is similar to anyone else but he also knows that you need your privacy and he completely respects it, he won't be the one crossing that line and make you uncomfortable on purpose, he doesn't want that.

You're a really tough book to open, let alone read, and, to a lot of people, you're like a puzzle with a bunch of missing pieces. While some are afraid of that, it also tends to attract people's attention to you because some set their minds on "figuring you out" like you're some freaking Pokémon or some shit, which you hate.

"Alright then- I uh- I'm gonna let you get dressed then... Catch you for breakfast?" he asks almost shyly, not sure if you actually want anyone's company today.

"Yeah, f'course, breakfast sounds great. Just uh- lemme get dressed and, yeah, I'll join you at the cafeteria."

"Awesome," he smiles and quickly gives a small peck to your forehead.

He leaves your room and you quickly grab a pair of underwear, a small squeal of excitement accidentally escaping you when you spot a pair of Batman boxers in your dresser and you quickly put them on with a simple, plain, black bra before putting Randall's black, ripped jeans on.

You reach for his tank top and smile when you spot the Nirvana yellow smiling face on the black-ish fabric and you throw it over your head, get your arms in each, way too big, armpit sleeves, blushing when you realize your sides are only halfway covered, about half of your ribcage showing on both sides.

You shrug it off and lean forward for your hair to fall upward and swiftly tie them in a tight braid before going back up and twirling the braid into a bun on top of your head, some smaller hair still floating loosely around your face but you don't mind them.

As you make your way out of your room, you see that Negan's note, which you scrambled and threw on the floor earlier on, is now in the small garbage-can sitting in the corner of your bedroom and your hands start to shake as you realize that Randall must have seen it while he was waiting for you to come back from your shower.

please, tell me he didn't read that... for the love of fuck...

You don't actually know if he's read the note or not but it doesn't sooth you at all because, for all you know, the chances that he actually did read it are pretty damn high. Because, hell, when were things ever easy for you?

"Ugh, set me on fire and throw me in a freaking pit." you mumble quietly to yourself as you get out of your bedroom with a loud sigh filled with complete despair.

You try to shut your overthinking mind down as you head down to the cafeteria, trying not to think about what Randall might or might not know about, trying not to think about how you got royally fucked over by Negan again. At this point, really, you're just trying get to point A to B without losing your mind in the meantime. 

But, as you finally come closer and closer to the kitchen and the cafeteria, awfully familiar, irritating giggles assault your ears. You keep heading down to the cafeteria but, right as you pass the kitchen, you spot Negan leaning over one of his "wives" as she's leaning against the wall behind her in the middle of the corridor, a tray full of food in her hands, as he says god knows what to her with a slight smirk on his lips. You don't want to know what he's saying to her to be honest, you feel sick and there's tears rushing to your eyes yet again.

You quickly swallow your tears back and get yourself together before you actually let out a sob or even worse; throw up. Your arms protectively wrap themselves up around your shaking frame as your mind tries to fight off all of the dark thoughts suddenly running through it as they're trying to push you to blow a fuse, to take all of your frustration, anger and sadness out on you again like they always do.

just keep going straight.

Your mind is a mess of positive thoughts and really dark ones fighting for your attention, trying to get to you first, the bad ones want to get to you first to cut you deep as the good ones want to get to you first to keep you from blaming yourself like you always do, like your depression always forces you to.

You have to get to the cafeteria but you can't do so without passing Negan and his "wife" and for an instant you feel like digging a hole into the ground and crawling your way under the compound to the cafeteria but, as it's completely impossible, you settle for just going for it.

you just look straight forward, you don't pay attention to him or to her and don't you dare cry, you've already cried enough for him.

Easier said than done though. Negan is quick to grab your forearm as you're trying to walk right past him, your head down and tears still filling your eyes.

He literally tells his "wife" to "get back in his quarters and drop his fucking tray in his office and get the hell out right after." before bringing his attention fully back to you and looking at you up and down, frowning when he spots Randall's clothes on you.

He can't get you to look at him and you keep on pulling at his arm, trying to get him to let go of you but he's not moving, not even a little bit, "Don't be mad at me, baby girl." he as the actual nerves to demand with a smirk, clearly amused by what he presumes to be your jealousy but it's not, at least not completely, it's mostly pain and insecurity.

He lets out a sigh, running low on patience, when your only answer to him is complete silence and a simple shrug of your shoulders, your head still looking down.

"Look, doll, I get it. You like having daddy all to yourself but, shit, I can't just let the others in a corner, that's not how I do shit around here."

"Y'know what-" you start, feeling like you're about to snap at him and he's bracing himself for it as well but, to both of yours and his surprise, the only thing to come out of your mouth afterwards is a sigh of defeat and fatigue as you force a small smile and slowly look up at him with that awful fake smile painted on your tired face, your eyes filled with sadness, "I know you have your own ways around here, your own rules and all. I don't have any issues with that, boss." you state in a calm voice and you're confused at your own behavior, it feels like you've finally got pushed around for too long and your body and mind are reacting in a very worrying way, your behavior is almost too polished, "Have a good day, sir." you finish with a frown and tears in your eyes.

His attitude is like poison, it's suffocating you and making your body ill. You can't believe he actually had you sent back to your room in the middle of the night... Actually, yes, you can and that's the worst part. What's so unreal to you is that you actually thought that he was a decent man for a minute, you fucked yourself over big time but are you really to blame?

It seems like the two of you just can't get it right, the problem doesn't come from you though, no. Why should you be patient with a man that clearly doesn't even try to deserve you? Why should you always excuse his actions? Why do you always have to be the one getting hurt? This isn't fair at all and it's hurting you.

don't think about it, don't think about it, please, we can't handle that shit anymore.

"Your lil trips out of the compound?" Negan's voice booms behind you, "That shit is over." his cold voice makes you stop in your steps and turn back around to face him again.

he did not just do that.

"E-excuse me?" you ask with furrowed eyebrows, your vision completely blurred by tears now.

"Y'fucking heard me, [y/n]. From now on, your ass is staying in this goddamn compound where I can keep an eye on you, whether you like it or not. No more lil' walks in the woods, not after the shit you've pulled last night. I don't do second chances." he says firmly before walking away, whistling, leaving you standing there, your fists clenched and your jaw tight.

how fucking dare he? he wants to talk about the shit you've pulled last night? how about the shit he's pulled? oh, and of course, let's not forget the wonderful "i don't do second chances" . bitch, you gave him more than four fucking chances! what the hell! does he seriously expects you to just sit around and listen to him? fuck that! you're not his fucking dog.

After that, you don't turn back around to head down to the cafeteria, oh no. Instead, you directly go back to "your" room. There's no way in hell you're staying one more day here and you don't care if you have to snap some necks to achieve your goal, you've decided that you'll get out and get the fuck out you sure as shit will.





You push the door of your bedroom open and quickly close before walking up to the wooden chest that keeps everything you own safe. You open it and messily shove your belongings in your denim backpack, stopping for a small second when you spot the GameBoy you've found back at the church but you quickly snap out of your little reverie, shove the device in your back and close the zipper before shoving it on your back.

You can't help the small smile that seems to be stuck on your face as you tug your butterfly knife in the waistband of your jeans, adrenaline cursing through your veins, eager to get your freedom back, eager to get back to being your own person and not someone's toy.

"Alright," you say with a small sigh as you look down at the watch wrapped around your right wrist, "it's only eight, Simon should still be making sure that everyone is awake and ready... Yeah, I have enough time."

Truth be told, you don't want to hurt anyone, you just want to leave and go back to the somewhat peaceful life you used to live out there. You're really hoping that Negan didn't actually already tell his men not to let you go out anymore because, if he did, things are gonna have to get a little messy and you don't want that.

you can't tell Randall nor Connor nor Faith about what you're about to do, it'll only get them in trouble when Negan'll find out that you're gone but... they deserve a goodbye at least, don't ya think?

You open your nightstand, grab the black pen sitting in it and grab the note Negan left you last night out of the trash, you flip it over and write a small note to your friends on the back of the bunched up paper.

"I'm sorry, I truly am. I love you guys so freaking much, please, take care of yourselves.

Stay safe, please, please, please.

I love you all so much, thank you for everything. I'm so sorry, I just can't do this anymore.
Please don't be mad at me.


You look at the piece of paper and tightly hold it, guilt filling your heart but you push through it.

Adjusting your backpack on your shoulder, you grab your bow and head towards the bedroom's door, jumping out of your boots when said door swings open, revealing Negan, Lucille on his shoulder and a smirk on his face. You quickly shove the note you've wrote in the back pocket of your jeans with a shaky hand.

fucking fucker fuck!

"You goin' somewhere lil' one?" he asks as he leans against the frame of the open door, making your blood boil.

"Just going to the main yard like Simon told me to." you answer with a voice filled with bitterness.

He steps inside the room and closes the door with the heel of his boot, making it slam against the threshold, the loud sound making you jump a little. He sighs when you refuse to make eye contact with him and ends up grabbing your face to force you to look up at him, "You're going out with me and the boys today so, let's make a deal, yeah, princess?"

"I'm good." you say through gritted teeth, trying to turn your head but his grip on your jaw tightens and a dry chuckle comes out of his mouth as you do so.

"Prove me that you can fucking behave like a good girl while we're out there and I'll reconsider letting you go out on your own again." he smirks when he sees your eyes light up at the suggestion even though you try your hardest to hide it, "How 'bout it, baby girl? Wanna show me how good you can be?"

"No." you say with a tired voice, exhausted by his mind games, you just want to get the hell out of this place. You don't have shit to prove to him.

An angry snarl comes out of Negan's mouth, making you shiver in the worst way possible, "You wanna run that by me again?"

"I said no." you harshly take his hand away from your jaw and take a few steps back from him, your small hands clenched into fists, "I'm done with you and I'm done with your sick games and your sweet talking! You're horrible to me and I didn't ask for any of this, okay? I didn't ask for your men to drag me out of my little life to bring me to you and I sure as shit didn't ask for the things you do to me!" you let out a scoff and look at him, "You're gonna have to kill me, Negan." a sob comes out of your mouth as you let out a small bit of your frustration and sadness out.

He doesn't say a damn thing, just leaves your room and slams the door behind him, making you jump and sob some more. This whole situation is hurting you really badly and God knows you don't need that in your life, you've already been though so much, this isn't fair.





8:50 AM //

You drag yourself out to the main front yard, your feet as well as your heart feeling like they're weighting a freaking ton. You dried any tears off of your face, trying really hard to cover up the fact that, after Negan left your room, you've cried for about thirty minutes in a row into your pillow.

You're frustrated, frustrated that Negan kept you from going anywhere, frustrated of what he's putting you through, frustrated because of the things he makes you feel, you're frustrated at yourself for actually thinking that he gave a shit about you when he clearly doesn't give two shits about anyone but himself.

"Morning you sorry fucks! Hope you all had a decent night of sleep, I sure as shit did." his cocky smirk appears on his lips the second your head snaps up when he mentions his night.

is he fucking serious? fuck you.

You turn around, ignoring Randall's hand when he tries to keep you from walking away as he knows damn well that it'll piss Negan off and he doesn't want to get in trouble. You start to head back inside, tears filling your eyes as you feel like Negan is getting such a kick out of embracing you in front of everyone.

It doesn't matter that no one else but the two of you- and Simon - and maybe Randall- knows about what happened last night and that no one made any connection between you and Negan because one; you freaking know and two; you know that everyone understood that he was talking about sex anyway even though they don't know with who and it hurts you, way more than it should because it actually shouldn't.

"You got somewhere to be, lil miss?" you hear Negan say behind you so you turn back around and look at him. As always, he's standing in front of everyone and they're all standing up but it's only because he gave them permission to, "Hell, with all the shit goin' on around here, you never even introduced yourself to me, doll." he says with a smile as he, for some reason, acts as if he doesn't fucking know you.

oh, so you wanna play.

"Well, you've done well so far without knowing my name, so, let's keep it that way." you answer coldly even though you're hurt, you're not willing to let him break you any further than he already has.

"Feisty, I like that." he answers with a somewhat cold smile.

"Really? No, 'cause, by the looks of it, it seems like you're more into dumb, brainless bitches that can't do shit to save their lives and who only sit on their bony asses all day long and don't help around the compound whilst your men risk their lives to bring them back fucking nail polish."

There's a long silence, no one dares to say a thing as they're not used to see anyone talking back to Negan nor push his buttons like you're doing right now.

A menacing laugh comes out of the very back of Negan's throat as he swiftly swings Lucille on his shoulder, looking straight at you as he's doing so. You actually feel scared this time, you've done a lot of things that Negan would never let slide with anyone else; you talked back to him, fucking spat on him, ran away and disobeyed him multiple times but never have you snap at him in front of all of his men and his eyes are enough for you to understand that you really fucked up this time.

"Alright, then." he says with a grin but you know better than to take comfort in his sudden mood swing, "Let's get this fuck show on the road, kids! Let's fucking go." he walks towards you, whistling with a smile on his face still, Lucille on his shoulder and you find yourself backing up as he gets closer and closer to you.

His men are all getting ready, loading the trucks and getting in as Negan finally gets a hold of you and tightly grips your wrist making you wince in discomfort but he completely ignores your complain and brings your body flush against his, firmly keeping you against his chest.

"Oh, I'm gonna have a fucking blast with you, princess. I swear to fucking God you'll fucking think twice next time before running your goddamn pretty lil' mouth like that again."

You don't have time to say anything, hell, you don't actually have anything to say anyway, as he starts to drag you towards his truck before literally shoving you in the passenger side. Your eyes are filled with tears that you won't allow yourself to let go of, not with him around. He climbs in the vehicle and slams the door of the driver's seat shut before signaling for Simon to open the gate to let him through.

You have no idea where you're supposed to be going today as neither Simon or Negan gave anyway clear information but you're stressed out just because of what Negan just said to you.





11:00   AM   //

Two hours, that's how much time you've spend in this damn truck with Negan for only company when it all finally comes to a stop right at the entrance of a forest.

"What the-" you quietly whisper as you take a peek out of your window and spot five people kneeling on the ground, some of Negan's men surrounding them, including Dwight.

"C'mon, sweet thing, let get this shit over with so we can go back home and I can deal with you properly."

no, no thanks. fuck that, actually.

You hesitantly jump out of the big truck, your eyes directly going to the crying people kneeling on the hard ground and you feel your heart breaking in half at the sight of them. They all look so terrified and tired.

Negan snaps you out of your contemplation when he grips your wrist tightly and drags you along with him only to come to a stop right in front of the line up of people. He puts his body in front of yours, keeping you slightly behind him, and puts on a big, quite frankly terrifying grin as he swigs Lucille around carelessly, Simon taking place right at the end of the line up before looking up at Negan, waiting for him to say something.

"Well, ain't this a fuckin' predicament! You guys fucked up real bad, y'know that?" he kneels, leaving you uncovered as you lose the height of him to cover you, and uses Lucille to keep himself balanced, "I really though that you people fucking understood when I said half your shit and none fucking less." he lets out a dangerous laugh and gets back up as you stand back and watch the scene unfold in front of you with narrowed eyes, the hair at the back of your neck standing on ends as the feeling of dread in your guts keeps on growing stronger and stronger.

"N-Negan we- we don't have a-anything l-left we re-really tried-"

"And you fucking failed my friend!" Negan cuts him off with a laugh, his body leaning back, Lucille getting right in front of the poor, crying man's face as he does.

He slowly turns around to look straight at you and gestures for you to come over to him with his head but you're completely frozen in place. You see him tilting his head and you're quick to comply when you can clearly see that his eyes are way darker than they usually are and it scares the life out of you.

The second you're within his reach, he gets a grip on your left forearm and you try to whine in pain as his rough grasp pulls at your stitches as he wanks you right in front of him, putting his right arm around your waist to firmly keep you in place against him.

"Ain't she the prettiest thing you've ever laid your goddamn eyes on?" he smiles and tilts his head slightly to look at you, "Guess what? She's mine, all fuckin' mine." he says, his voice feral and low, "She's my new favorite lil toy and- Well," he lets out yet another cold chuckle, "she's a disobedient one, y'know. She just can't fucking help it, she just keeps on fuckin' talking back and misbehaving so, today? I had an amazing idea, like, the best idea ever, y'know? And I figured, why not punish them both at the same fucking time! Y'know kill two birds with one stone and all that crap." Negan slowly lets go of you and forces you to look at him, "Isn't daddy just the most fucking creative son of a bitch there is, baby girl?" he kisses your forehead and, for the first time, you feel like throwing up at the gesture. It's not a sweet kiss, no, it's a kiss filled with venom and bad intentions.

Lucille appears right in front of your face, making you jump slightly and making your throat close violently.

"Now, be a good girl and hold that for me, yeah?" he smiles as he hands you his bat and you take it with an heavily shaking hand.


"Pick one and bash his fucking head in for me, baby girl. Hell, you can even pick a chick if you wanna."

no. fucking. way.

You close your eyes tightly as a tear escapes your eyes and your body starts to shake. You can feel everyone's eyes on you including the ones belonging to the people kneeling down next to you, "I-I ca-can't-" you whisper, trying to form a proper sentence but this is all you manage to choke out.

You feel Negan's hands gripping your shoulders and re-positioning you just for you to find yourself facing the line up of people when your eyes open, a violent sob ripping through your body, making your stomach churn and your head spin.

"I want you to take all of your anger, your frustration and your sadness out on one of them, baby doll. I know there's a lot of bad things going on in that pretty head of yours, let 'em the fuck out." he whispers in your ear but he speaks loudly enough for everyone to hear him loud and clear.

You only shake your head left and right at his words and bring your shoulders up as much as you can as you shrink in on yourself. You want to cover your ears, curl up into a ball and cry until you eventually pass out. You want the ground to swallow you.

Your head is still shaking left and right, your body shaking like crazy and your eyes are letting all of your tears out making your face look like a broken sink.

"Boss-" Simon starts, clearly not all that okay with what's going on here.

"Pick one, now. Fucking do it or I'll get one of my men to kill them one by one until you decide to fucking to as you're goddamn told, [y/n]." he says through gritted teeth and you feel like you're about to collapse.

"H-Hey, it's- it's okay, kiddo. Y-you do what you gotta d-do." the man kneeling right at your feet says with a slight smile and it only makes you even more upset. "Go on, might as well pick me, I- I don't have anyone waiting for me back h-home, I- I've only been part of this g-group for t-three weeks."

None of them deserves to die, especially not like that. Slaughter by Lucille, that's no way to go. But you have a choice to make, either kill this one innocent, terrified man right now or wait until Negan starts asking his men to go on a killing marathon just for you be forced to kill someone anyway, the only difference is that; there won't "only" be one victim then.

"Three, two-"

"No, no, no! I-I'll d-do it." you cut him off in his count down with a shaking voice.

"Atta girl." he replies with a smirk that makes you want to bash his fucking head in instead of an innocent man's.

You weakly lift Negan's bat up and sadly look down at the man in front of you as he gives you a small nod with a tight smile.

"It's okay. It's not you, I know." he whispers to you, trying to reassure you but, hell, you're about to kill him.

"I-I'm so-sorry." you choke out, tightly shut your eyes and swing the barb wire covered part of Lucille right against his left temple, not killing him but making severe damages as you hear people next to him cry, you're making them cry, you're killing somebody.

You bring the bat down on him again and again, repeating that you're sorry, and, finally, after five swings, his head is nothing but pulp. 

You open your eyes and quickly drop Lucille on the ground as you look down at what you've just done, tears falling from your eyes, silent sobs make your stomach clench. Your body is shaking so much that it comes to the point where it's not able to support you anymore and you fall on your knees on the hard ground, putting your forehead in the dirt and blood covered ground, coughing as you choke on dust and your own tears.

You're not sure what's happening around you, you hear the buzzing noise of a camera next to you and Negan's voice barking out orders left and right, one of them being for Simon to bring these people back to their camp. You hear trucks driving away but you pay no mind to it all, you just keep your head in the bloody dirt beneath and keep on whispering "sorry" over and over like a broken record.

"Stop it, baby girl." Negan says as he carefully picks you up off the ground and you don't even try to put up a fight. You're terrified, just like you used to be before all of this. "Y'know why that shit happened?" you only nod your head and let out a choked sob into the crook of his neck, soaking his red scarf. "Why?"

"B-because I m-mis-misbehaved."

"S'right, you're gonna do it again or you're actually gonna start fucking listening?"

"I-I'll l-listen, I'll listen." you manage to choke out between a few sobs.

You feel your legs gripping his waist tighter and your hands clinging at his leather jacket as they're stuck between yours and Negan's body. You're looking for safety somewhere in his arms but you can't find it, you just can't, not after what just happened. For the first time since you've met, you're terrified of him.

"You beat the shit outta that guy, baby girl. M'proud of you and, goddamn, you handled Lucille like a fucking pro, that was hot as hell, angel." he kisses the top of your head and you only sob violently in return, his touch not being something you crave at the moment, "C'mon, let's go home, doll." he heads towards his truck but stops in his tracks when he feels you furiously shaking your head no in the crook of his neck, "No? You don't wanna go home?" you shake your head again, letting him know that you don't, "But did I fucking ask, [y/n]?" you shake your head again, a sob breaking out of you again, "That's what I fucking thought, you want a repeat of what just happened? No, 'cause I still have a bunch of fuckers for you to fuck up if you want, baby doll." in response, you tightening your grip around his waist and cry in his scarf. "Good girl."


1:00 PM //

Your feet shakily touch the concrete ground of the compound, you close the door of Negan's truck and directly wrap yourself up into your own arms, feeling vulnerable as you feel Faith's eyes on you. She was heading towards you to greet you after she opened the gate for the trucks to come in but she stopped in her tracks when she spotted blood covering your clothes as well as your face, your eyes filled with tears and, though she doesn't know what the hell happened, she could tell that it completely broke you.

Negan is right behind you as you walk into the compound but you're abruptly stopped when his hand harshly grabs your wrist from behind, forcing you to turn around to look at him and your eyes widen when you spot the small note you've wrote this morning when you were planning to run off in his hand. You shyly try to snatch it from him but he only has to lift his arm up for his hand to be completely out of your reach.

"You were about to fucking run away from me again, uh?"


"Oh, so you just like to write fucking random goodbye notes?!" he snaps at you, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth could break under the pressure.

"I- I w-was upset-"

"That's not my fucking problem, girly. You don't fucking run off on me! That's fucking it."

He harshly grabs your wrist and drags you to God knows where in front of everyone but no one comes to help you. No, all they do is kneel as Negan passes by, completely ignoring them.

You end up going down a very dark staircase and you almost fall once or twice because of Negan's pace but you manage to stay standing behind him as he drags you along. You finally get off the never ending stairway only to come face to face to what looks like three awfully dark cells and you start to cry again as you realize why you're here.

"P-please don't- don't lo-lock me in here." you beg as you remember your mother punishing you the exact same way which ended up making you claustrophobic.

"You gotta learn, baby girl. You can't run away from me, it's completely out of the fucking question." he says with a somewhat gentle voice.

He hardly ignores your heart-wrenching cries and puts you in your cell before locking the door as you curl yourself up into a small ball in one of the corners of the tiny, cold and dark room, crying in your knees, your body shaking in pure terror and your heartbeat quickly getting out of hand.

he locked you up, mom used to lock us up... why do you always have to piss people off you stupid bitch.

Your bad thoughts are quickly winning over the good ones as there's literally nothing good surrounding you for your mind to grasp at the moment. Nothing about today is good, nothing at all. Or maybe, just maybe, there's the fact that you're wearing Randall's tank and that it smells like him and it's a little appeasing.

yeah, you can also smell the blood of the poor innocent dude we killed today...





5:00 PM //

He can't fucking believe that you tried to leave him again. The mess in his room is indescribable, his book shelf is laying on the ground, chairs are turned upside down on the carpet covered floor, there's books everywhere and he's completely out of breath, his knuckles white as he's holding Lucille tightly in his hand.

He's full of things that he can't explain or even put into words, all he knows is that you're the reason for it. You're making him lose his damn mind and he hates it just about as much as he loves it and craves it. He knows that he fucked up again and it pisses him off. He doesn't understand his own behavior and he even came to realize that even is formal wife, Lucille, wouldn't have had half as much patience as you do with him.

He never was poisonous with her like he is with you and he can't help but think that it might be because he actually truly feels something for you and, this time, he has to face it, he is the one forcing you to stay under the same roof as him after all.

He hates having you far from him, he hates not having you in his sight, he hates not being able to touch you, he hates not being able to tease you until he can see your cheeks turn that deep crimson red he loves so much on you, he just hates not having you around and he hates that he feels this way.

He's so caught up in his thoughts and his anger that he doesn't even realize that Faith has entered his room until he hears her clearing her throat.

"What the hell are you doing he-"

"She just can't catch a motherfuckin' break, can't she?" she snaps, cutting him off, "After all she's been pushed through, all the fucked up shit she was forced into, she still can't catch a fuckin' break, Negan?"

"Watch the way you fucking speak to me, Faith." he says through gritted teeth.

"No, fuck that. Her body is already having a hard time recovering and now she must have one hell of a fucking war in her head as if she fucking needed this shit!"

"What d'that have to fucking do with me, uh?." he asks through gritted teeth, though he knows damn well what it has do to with him. 

"You're so fucking full of shit, Negan."

"Ex-fucking-cuse me? D'you bump your fucking head or something?"

"She deserves better, she understood that and she fucking tried to leave again 'cause she realized that, this place? It ain't it, Negan."

"What she fucking needs is a fucking roof above her fucking head, food in your goddamn stomach and a fucking comfortable bed to fucking sleep in instead of being out there risking her fucking life like a dumbass!"

"Yeah, she does deserve all that, but, guess what? She can get it all by herself 'cause she's fucking smart like that. She's more of a fighter than all of us ever will be and y'know what else, Negan? She also can fucking get all that if she just goes and finds herself a nice group filled with people that actually give a shit about her instead of being stuck in this huge ass compound with only three people to go to when there's hundredth of us living under the same damn roof. Call her a dumbass one more fucking time, go ahead and see what happens."

"What the fuck's gotten into you? D'you have a death wish or something, don't fucking talk to me like that again."

"How many times do you think she's actually gonna take your shit, uh?" she asks, completely ignoring his words, "You keep on fucking her up when, clearly, all she wants is to catch a fucking break from all the shit she's been through. You need to stop playing games, Negan, 'cause you're hurting the lil' one in the process and I'm seriously done with it." she looks at Negan and narrows her eyes,"I mean- Don't you think she's had enough shit happen to her already? She deserves to be able to heal fully but the poor thing can't catch a fucking break and you always fucking make sure of that."

"Faith-" he starts, his jaw clenched but she cuts him off again, pissed by his behavior.

"Either let her go or man the fuck up and realize that people won't look down on you if you decide to commit! You really think that having a bunch of whores around is cool? Every man's wet dream, uh? Fuck that. It's misogynist as shit, you're an asshole, get over your fucking self already. You really think people don't fucking despite you enough as it is just because of your fucking attitude and ways? Oh, but, lemme guess, Negan doesn't give a fuck about what other people think of him, right? Nah, he's too fucking cool and important for that shit. But what about her, uh? Do you actually not give a single shit about what she thinks of you? About how much she's actually hurting because of your selfishness and your pride?" she looks at Negan, her eyes softening as she lets out a small tired sigh, "You know I fucking care about your stupid ass, so, please, make it right, Negan. I know you're not the big bag wolf you're always playing nowadays. I get it, you have actually legit reasons to act the way you do with your workers, but a fucking harem? It ain't you, you're an asshole, sure, but that's fucking disgusting even for you." she slowly turns around and leaves her hand on the door knob before adding without turning around to look at him, "She can be your little exception, Negan. She deserves to feel special, she really fucking does and if you're not gonna be able to handle it then leave her the fuck alone. You're afraid to lose your pride and power around the fucking place if you actually show the lil' baby that you care for her? Yeah, fucking up is what you're doing alright. She isn't like the stupid bitches who decided to let you pamper them twenty-four-seven and occasionally let you fuck 'em, Negan. She actually doesn't need you to pamper her but she sure as shit deserves to be, she doesn't want to take advantage of you or your status and, goddamn, she takes a lot of shit from you, more than Lucille ever did- sorry for bringing her up by the way." she quietly finishes and leaves his office and closes the door, letting a deep sigh come out of her mouth the second the door clicks shut behind her.

She pieced two and two together when she saw the blood on your face, the complete emptiness in your usually so full of life eyes and Lucille baked in blood and pieces of human flesh but she didn't want to believe it, she couldn't imagine Negan doing this to you but Dwight confirmed it with a shaking voice, clearly shocked by what happened.

She hasn't seen you ever since you got out of Negan's truck and she's getting seriously worried about you. She leaves Negan's headquarters and immediately pulls out a cigarette once the door leading outside closes behind her and lights the stick up before taking a long drag out of it, her eyes fluttering shut as she does.

"Y'know he's gonna blow a fuse if he catches you smoking on his doorstep, right?" Simon says with a small smile.

"What d'you let him do that?"

"Didn't have a fucking choice, y'know that." he answers, clearly getting what Faith is referring to.

"Like hell you didn't-" she stops and lets out a sigh, "Sorry I just- I fucking care about that girl, you know?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's hard not to. Fuck..." he lets out a deep sigh, "D'you mind?" he asks, pointing at Faith's cigarette, asking for a drag and she hands it to him without a word, "Thanks." he takes a long drag and passes the nicotine stick back to her, "She's in one of the cells down in the basement- I can't fucking stand being in there for a goddamn second she just- she's crying her lil' heart out in there, god fucking damn it."

"Simon, she's fucking claustrophobic! What the fuck?! Who the fuck put her in th-"

She's cut off by the heavy door leading into their boss' quarters opening, Negan appearing quickly after, looking at his two "employees".

"Don't fucking smoke on my goddamn doorstep for fuck's sake, how hard is that." Faith is about to snap at him for locking you up in a tiny cell but he doesn't give her the time to do so, "Go get her the hell out of there." he orders her and grabs her cigarette to take a drag out of it before crushing it on the steel floor the staircase is leading up to.

He asked Dwight, Simon and even Arat to keep an eye on things but they all came back to him and told him that they couldn't stand hearing you cry in sheer panic and terror. Faith, however, is already running down the stairs before Negan finishes his sentence and quickly runs off to the basement, pushing people out of her way to rapidly get to you.

Negan knows he fucked up big time today, again. Forcing you to kill that man was already way out of line on his part but locking you in this cell made it all much, much worse.

Faith finally reach the cells and immediately goes to unlock the door keeping you locked up in the tiny cell you've been locked up in. She swears that she can feel her heart drop when she spots you crying and shaking like she's never seen anyone shake before, your body completely curled up on itself in the left far corner of the dark cell.

"Fucking- [Y/n], princess, s'okay. I'm here, you're okay, pretty girl." she gently coos as she steps inside the dark cell and makes her way to you. Once you're within her reach, she carefully grabs your shaking body to wrap you up in her arms, trying hard to calm you down but it's like your mind is completely shut down right now, your ears are buzzing, and you can't hear a single thing.

Negan took things way too far, none of this would have happened if only he'd could accept the fact that you're really special to him, he could have avoid hurting you so badly by simply not having Simon carry back to your room in the middle of the night but now the damages are done and it feels like he won't be able to pick up the pieces he broke, not this time. He crushed you so hard that there's nothing but dust, there's no whole pieces, no matter how tiny, left to pick up now.

"C'mon, pretty girl, talk to me." she begs, worried about your complete silence.

She had the time to bring you all the way back to your bedroom and you still didn't make a beep, even your sobs are completely silent now, the only way she knows that they're still here is because they're making your body shake in her arms.

Your head hurts so bad from all this crying you've been doing lately, especially today, and the excessive amount of adrenaline your brain has be secreting ever since your first encounter with Negan this morning. Faith sits you on your mattress and you immediately bring your legs up to your chest, making yourself as small as physically possible and hiding your face away into knees.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe, I promise." Faith tries again, her voice soft but shaky as she forces tears down, seeing like this not being something she could ever have been prepared for.

You quickly shake your head no at her words, refusing to believe that you're actually safe anywhere near Negan is anymore, not after today. But, then again, you still crave him for some reason. You want him to tell you that it'll be okay, you want him to take you in his arms and tell you that you did well today even though it was hard, you need him to be here and you hate yourself for it.

You slowly look up at Faith with tear filled eyes and wait for her to say something because you don't trust yourself to talk right now.

"You want some alone time?" she asks as she carefully examines your face. It's all puffy, covered in dried blood and tears, your nose is running, your cheeks are red and your eyes are swollen.

You silently nod your head yes and she gets off the wall she was straightens back up since she was kneeling down to be able to see your face as she spoke to you, before walking out of your room without a word, she wouldn't know what to say to you anyway. She's beyond upset, she's hurt to see you like that, it fucking hurts.

You look down at your shaking hands, the noises the bat was making as it was bashing that poor man's head are filling your ears. You can't stop thinking about it, you've killed before but never like that. Ever. You never killed someone who didn't cause you any harm, it's just not right to you otherwise.

oh, boo-ooh. stop crying and get your shit together already for fuck's sake.

"Ugh, I need a shower." you mumble as you get off your bed and drag yourself into the showers to wash away the blood drying on your skin before heading back to your bedroom, ignoring Randall as he's standing right in front of his room to directly go into your room and change into the silky baby pink set that Negan got you when you first got here. You directly head to bed afterwards even though it's still really early.

You're done with today, you want this stupid day to go away and forget about it. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a small bit better, can't be worse that's for sure and that's all that matters, really.

Chapter Text

3:15 AM //

You've been locked in this damn shower cabin for almost an hour now, crying your heart out as blood keeps on dripping out of your wounded left forearm even though you tried to make it stop, you left it underneath the shower head and let water wash your cuts but, even though the warmth of the water actually soothed the painful throbbing going through your arm, it didn't really help with the bleeding.

So now, here you are, your arm covered in blood which is now also all over the white shower floor, your eyes puffy from all the crying you've been doing today, your whole body shaking from exhaustion, your head throbbing as a mean headache starts to take over you, your jaw snapping uncontrollably and your body is all curled up against the wall of the small cabin as you let water hit you, soaking your pajamas in the process.

You feel asleep rather quickly when you went to bed but, much to your dismay, you've been woken up at two in the morning by a mean bitch called panic attack. You ended up hurting yourself again and freaked out when you realized just how deep the cuts you inflicted yourself were, especially since you've actually managed to snap your stitches open and reopen the previous cuts that had barely started to heal, so you ran to the showers, holding your wounded arm tightly against your chest whilst keeping yourself from sobbing not to wake anyone up in the dorms.

And now you're sitting down, your legs against your chest, right underneath the running spray, as you wait for your mind to stop racing, you wait for the cries of the small group you came across today -well, technically, yesterday- to stop echoing in your head, you wait for the look of the innocent man that you've been forced to kill to fade away from your mind. At this point, it just feels like you're literally waiting for your sanity to come back to you, it feels like you're waiting for, well; yourself to snap you out of this bad trip you're having.

You're all you have and yesterday made that pretty damn clear to you.

You slowly get up from the shower floor and turn the water off before walking out of the cabin, your hair soaked and dripping all over the place just like your pretty baby pink pajama set. Blood is flowing out of your forearm to land on the cold tile-covered ground beneath your bare feet.

The smell of blood is so strong that you can literally taste it and it tastes like there's a bunch of pennies melting on your tongue but you can't bring yourself to care, it seems that you're completely numb to it all at this point.

You make your way out of the communal showers and absently walk down the long corridor leading to the bedrooms and end up in a large hall which leads to either the cafeteria and the kitchen or to the heart of the compound which leads to the outside and you really feel like having a refill on fresh air right about now.

If anyone was to stumble upon you in this instant, you're a hundred percent sure that they'll freak the hell out and try to kill you because you look like you've just came back from the dead. Your whole body is shaking, blood is profusely pouring out of your forearm and your bare feet are leaving wet prints behind you as you cross the huge opened door separating the "living" area to the rest of the compound.

It looks so big now that everyone is asleep in their bedroom and not running around the place. You look around, spot a few chains hanging from the ceiling, a small room that looks like it used to be a small office which is now full with working material and some menacing looking tools, you also notice a mean looking metal iron resting on what seems to be a barbecue gone wrong.

You walk right in the middle of the huge compound and you feel lost, you wonder what the hell you're doing here and if you'll ever be able to get back to your old life, the life that you somehow put together for yourself, the life that somehow made you happy in its very own ways.

You let out a small sigh and slightly turn your head to spot a giant staircase, right next to the small office, which leads to a big deck but, as you're about to get close to it to satisfy your curiosity, something else catches your attention; there's a wall practically covered in what seems to be polaroids and you decide to check it out but you immediately regret your decision as you finally get in front of said wall.

You were right, these are polaroids indeed but not just simple polaroids, no, those are pictures of Negan's victims, it's a real horror show.

Negan's workers have to work in this particular space for hours on ends every single day with these pictures hanging around, what's the point? Is he trying to remind them what happens to those who dare step out of line? You feel sick and it's not only because of the blood you're losing.

However, a really particular picture catches your attention and you can feel the hair on your arms and at the back of your neck rise as goosebumps come to cover your skin when you realize who's on this specific photo.

The innocent man you've been forced to kill earlier on is on that picture, his headless corpse is on that picture and Lucille is beside him, right where you dropped her before falling to your knees.

You've seen a lot of messed up shit in your life, some way before the whole world collapsed, you've done a lot of things that you didn't want to do but had to, but, being forced to kill? Having to kill an innocent man? Having to kill an innocent man that's literally forcing a smile, accepting his death to spare the group that took him in and telling you that it's okay? That's beyond messed up.

His words are coming back to you, the noises that the bat was making as it was bashing his skull into a pulp and the sobs of the rest of the survivors kneeling beside him as they were forced to watch him die in such an awful way are repeating over and over in your head like a damn broken record and you wish that you could throw the damn player out of a window.

You should be screaming in anger, ask how this is acceptable in any way, burn the damn place down but there's nothing. Not a word, not a tear, nothing at all, you're completely silent.

You take the picture off the wall with a shaky hand and slowly sit down on the cold, hard ground of the compound. Your bare thighs burning because of the coldness of the ground and hurting because of the rough concrete covering it as you sit there, legs crossed, looking down at the photo of the man you've killed, the small picture shaking in your hands.

"I'm so sorry." you slowly whisper over and over again as your eyes are filling with tears, "I- I wish- I just- I'm so so sorry." a sob leaves your mouth as you tightening your grip on the picture and screw your eyes shut, desperate to get a single second of calm but your head doesn't let you, it just keeps on playing the scene on repeat and it's like it's happening right in front of you, you can't escape it even with your eyes closed.

You let a few minutes pass, get back up and head back to your bedroom, the small photo still in your shaking hand, to try and get some more sleep.

You're completely drained, between your emotions being all over the place and the blood still oozing out of your forearm, it feels like no amount of sleep will ever be able to fix you at this point but you need to shut your mind up and you can only achieve that if you put it to sleep.

You crawl underneath your thick blankets, put the polaroid underneath your pillow and rest your head on it, sighing deeply as you try to take comfort in the fact that your bad thoughts can't reach you in your sleep.

Your heartbeat gently slows down and you slowly but surely start to fall into a deep and well deserved sleep.





9:00 AM //

Your eyes slowly flutter open and a small groan of protest slips past your slightly parted lips as you clumsily turn around on your back on the mattress, letting out a wince of discomfort and you realize that the blood on your forearm dried against the white mattress sheet which ended up making your wounds stick to the thin tissue.

You carefully peel your arm away from the soft fabric, praying for your wounds not to start bleeding again as you manage to pry your forearm off of the sheet covering the mattress. You take a look at the wounds and let a sigh of relief when you see that they didn't re-open, they're extremely swollen and red, the skin of the inside of your forearm is tainted with blood which doesn't really surprises you when you see the state your mattress sheet is in. You're used to all that so you don't worry about it, what you do worry about though is how you're supposed to get the freaking blood covering the spot your arm was resting all night on cleaned up without anyone on laundry duty noticing the giant deep crimson spot on the bright white sheet.

"Things just don't get any easier, do they?" you quietly say to yourself with an heavy sigh following right after.

You look down at your watch and your eyes almost pop out of their socket when you see that it's 9:15, why didn't Simon wake you up? You gather the small amount of energy you have left in you and get out of the comfortable, warm bed to get dressed.

You grab a simple white t-shirt and throw a red and black flannel on top of it, making sure that your forearms are covered, before sliding into Randall's black, ripped jeans, the same you wore yesterday, and finish with a pair of plain black socks and your black combat boots.

You messily gather your hair on top of your head and put them into a messy bun all whilst walking out of your room, closing the bedroom door with your heel and directly head out to the main yard, not even bothering to go and try to have a breakfast since your stomach seems to be stuck into a huge knot anyway.

"Look who's finally awake, how d'you sleep, pumpkin?" you hear Simon shout out before you spot him walking towards you with a smile and you hope that he won't comment on the fact that he most definitely just saw you completely bypass the cafeteria to directly head towards the main area of the compound.

"Hi Simon, I uh- well, y'know, I guess I slept as good as a-anyone else does these days." you answer, nervously pulling on your fingers, giving your anxiety away.

"Smart answer." he chuckles and leans against the wall in front of you, blocking your way, "We're having a lil' supply run this afternoon, care to join in?"

"W-well, I mean-" you start to panic, worried that it'll be the same kind of "supply run" as yesterday and Simon seems to quickly pick up on your panic.

"Hey, pumpkin, it's a simple supply run at an old factory three hours from here, nothing less," he gently grabs your chin, making you twitch involuntarily at the contact, "nothing more, I can promise you that."

You look at him for a few seconds and see nothing bad in his eyes, he seems to be genuinely honest with you right now, "O-okay, I'll be happy to t-tag along if-if that's okay w-with Negan."

"Of course I'm okay with that, baby doll." you hear Negan's voice behind Simon and he doesn't seem surprised by his boss' presence at all but the jump it gets out of you sure gives away that you are surprised by his sudden presence. All you can think about now, is that he's right there, that he freaking heard you which means that he wasn't even that far from you to begin with and feel pulled between running into his arms and seek the comfort you know only him can provide you with and letting fear eat you alive as his mere presence seems now to enough to make you freeze in fear.

You feel your body shaking violently and tears filling your eyes again as panic completely washes over you.

Never has Negan's voice scared you like it does now. You never truly feared him, you've always been more afraid of the fact that he's a man rather than the fact that he's Negan. But now? After what happened yesterday? After what you had to do last night to make it all go away? You can't see him the same way you used to and you can't even begin to understand and grasp how you used to see him to even begin with.






Once again, you're walking home with fresh bruises and open wounds covering your upper body, your backpack being dragged along on the concrete sidewalk as your heavy feet lead you back "home".

Home, you hate that word. Probably because you never found yours. A lot of people seem to think that a house is a home but it doesn't have to be.

Home is more of a feeling to you, it can be a person or a place, hell, it can ever be a song or book. Home can be a lot of things but four walls and a roof are not what makes a home.

You stop in your steps when you hear extremely loud sirens ringing through your neighborhood.

of course it's in front of our house, of fucking course...

There's a bunch of police cars and an ambulance parked right in front of your house, the front door is wide open and there's people running in and out of the place. You don't even bother to try and find out what's going on, you just let go of your backpack and sit down in the grass right next to the sidewalk.

It's not the first time something like this happens, your mother gets a little too drunk sometimes and the neighbors have to call an ambulance to come and take care of her or she'd get dosed up on some really strong drugs and she'd start to do some stupid shit, angering the neighbors until they end up calling the police. You really wonder why no one ever took you away from her at this point.

It's odd though, there normally isn't so many people when your mother needs to be dealt with. Right now there's an ambulance which has its sirens blaring, and three police cars.

"Alright, careful now."

You hear a man's voice and quickly get up to take a look at what's going on, your legs turning to jelly when you spot two men carrying a gurney, a thick black bag clearing containing a body laying on it.

A single tear escapes you and you quickly wipe it away, refusing to let another tear out, your legs are about to give out and you open your mouth feeling the urge to scream but nothing comes out, only a quiet whimper.

A bunch of cops come out of your house as you're still completely unnoticed and you're not sure if you want to stick around to find out what happened, you already know what happened, you just don't want to know how it happened.

You don't want these people to place you in foster care, you don't want that, your life is already hard enough as it is. So, just like that, you disappear. You run off, leaving your backpack on the grass, a small trace that you were there, that you know.

You don't even know how long you've been running for when you finally get to Luna's district. She used to live right next door to you but she had to move when she lost her husband, she said that she couldn't live in the same house he lived in so now there's at least thirty minutes separating the two of you, on car.

You run up the three small steps leading up to her front porch and repeatedly knock on the wooden door, your eyes completely drowning in your tears, tears that you strictly refuse to let go of and it hurts so fucking bad, you want to cry your heart out but you're scared.

"Damn, hold the fuck on!" you hear a really rough and familiar voice, which definitely isn't Luna's but your mind can't really process the info at the moment, angrily bark on the other side of the door and the person behind it barely has time to crack the door open when your teary eyes catch a glimpse of the man behind the door and that's all it takes for you to run straight into his chest and hold him tightly against you, making him twitch at the display of affection; Daryl Dixon.

"She's gone. She's gone and she-she left me all alone."

"I'm sorry." his voice drastically changed and it's now back to its softer tone as he hesitantly wraps his arms around your small shaking frame and pulls you inside the house. You realize, just by the smell in the hall, that, in your complete confusion, you must have run off to the Dixons' house and not Luna's. 

You were so upset and panicked that you didn't even realize that you've been running for three hours straight, not only that, you ran through the freaking woods and ended up in the small, quiet place where Daryl and his brother live.

The house smells of weed, alcohol, sweat, leather and something else, something sweet that seems so out of place here yet it doesn't really. You always thought that this specific smell was Daryl's because, like Merle says, getting a blast teasing his little brother, Daryl has always been the sweet one but, God, is he tough.

Daryl gently sits you down on the couch and settles next to you, not sure of what to say to you or what to do. You know he's full of love and good attentions, he just has a really hard time expressing and showing it.

"Where's Merle?" you ask barely above a whisper.

"He and our old man got at each other's throat again so he went hunting and our dad's probably left for Vegas or some shit, he'll probably come back beat up and drunk off of his ass in two or three days." he says with a small laugh but you know it's the same kind of laugh you let out when you feel upset or nervous.

You know about the abusive behavior Daryl's father can have but there isn't a damn thing you can do about it, hell, you don't really need to anyway. Sadly, both Merle and Daryl grew up with his alcoholic and drug addict habits, they're both used to him throwing punches and, as they grew older, they started to fight back so now it all stops pretty damn quickly. But it upsets you nonetheless.

The boys lost their mother as well and Daryl was left alone to deal with that, just like you, because his brother was doing time back then and his father was... Well, he wasn't there.

"Alright," you push yourself off the couch and extend your hand out to Daryl, "you have to finish teaching me how to shoot a crossbow, Dixon." you say with a small smile, knowing that it'll distract the both of you.

He takes your hand and gets up, not questioning your odd behavior even for a second, before grabbing his sleeveless leather jacket, the one with the wings at the back that you love so much and happen to steal all the time, Merle's motorcycle keys and leads you through the kitchen then through the back door before hopping on the bike, patting the space behind him for you to climb on and you do.

"Thank you." you quietly say as you rest your head on his right shoulder.

"Don't mention it." he simply shrugs with a sincere smile but quickly feels awkward about it and feels the need to change the topic, "Happy birthday by the way... Sorry you-."

You give his waist a small squeeze to silently tell him that it's okay and he turns around to look at you very briefly before turning back to start the engine. He drives up to the small dirt road next to his house which leads to the small training ground he improvised to teach you how to shoot and you simply let him take you there, closing your eyes and enjoying the breeze as he drives through the quiet forest.

You feel lucky to have met Merle and Daryl, they both struggle a lot with emotions and words, just like you so they don't judge you about it, they know exactly what you feel, you don't need to explain them because, somehow, they always seem to know.

For anyone else, it would have been weird as all hell not to see you shed a single tear when your mother just died, it would have been weird to see you act like it's just another day, to still have the energy to ask such a thing as getting trained to shoot a damn crossbow and, hell, you'd be lying if you were to say that it doesn't scare, hurt and worry you but it's not like that to Daryl just like it wouldn't be to Merle. They know, they're the only ones to know.





You're brought back to the instant when you hear a door clicking shut behind you and slowly realize that you somehow came back inside your bedroom.

"You're back with me, doll?" you hear Negan's voice behind you, making you jump and you quickly turn around, nodding just as quickly to let him know that he has your attention. "Where the hell d'you go just now, uh?"

"I- I just g-got lost, so-sorry, sir."

He sighs and leans against your dresser before nodding towards the bed for you to sit down on it. You shyly walk towards your bed and sit on the middle of the bed, your legs crossed on the mattress and your hands pulling at your flannel.

"Roll up your sleeves, baby." he orders, not asks, though his voice is gentle and, really, you'd rather have him yell at you right about now if you're being honest.

A single tear escapes your eye as you realize that he somehow knows what's beneath the sleeves of your flannel. You shyly shake your head no and immediately curl yourself up, bringing your legs to your chest and hiding your face away into your knees.

"Now, [y/n]." he insists, his voice harsher but still controlled.

You sob into your knees, making your body shake violently with it and you desperately try to push your head further into your thighs but it just isn't physically possible anymore, at least not without breaking your nose.

You wish that he'll just walk away and leave you alone but Negan being Negan you know damn well that he's not going anywhere until he gets what he came to get so, since there's no hole appearing inside your mattress to swallow you up, you decide to face the awful, terrible, crappy music and gently roll up your left sleeve before extending your arm out for him to see while you keep your head inside your legs.

You hear him move around but you don't look up, you're completely frozen, you don't even try to cover your arm back up.

"I'm gettin' seriously sick of this shit, [y/n]!" you hear him bark, making you jump.

yeah, me too asshole, thanks for the concern though, appreciate it.

You look up, shaking like a leaf in high wind as tears keep on rolling down your tired face until you feel every single muscle in your body tense up when you spot your butterfly knife in Negan's gloved hand.

"Wh-" you start but you quickly back down when he turns around to look at you with something that you can't quite place shinning in his eyes.

"You" he starts as he looks down at the bloody knife in his hand, "are not getting that shit back until you're at least three fucking weeks clean, doll."

what? hey, he can't fucking do that! it's not our fault, what the fuck?!

You're about to protest but you realize that he's already left the room with your knife in hand and all you can feel is pain and sheer fear. You're not angry, or at least if you are it must buried underneath everything else because you don't feel it even though you know that you should.

But, a second pass and you feel it. The urge to tear this whole place down, to watch it all burn to the ground, to crush every last bit of it in the palm of your hands but then it fades and all you can really do is feel the awful pain you've been left in.

Anger makes you stupid, sadness makes you completely numb and frustration blinds you, you fear what those three things combined together are going to do to you, you never went through all of these emotions at the same damn time and now that you are, you can't help but feel vulnerable and scared.

we're getting our damn knife back, who the hell does he think he is? he's already done way too much, he has no fucking right to take our shit!

"Whatever." you let out in a small sigh before getting off your bed and walking out of your bedroom to go and try to find something to keep yourself busy for a while at the very least.

You can't take everything that's going on in your mind anymore, the mean headache you've had last night still doesn't seem too keen on going away, it actually feels like it's getting more and more painful with each ticking minute. You could cry just from the physical pain you're in and now you also suffer really badly because of your mental health which seems to be declining way too fast for you to feel comfortable with it.

And, for a short instant, you wonder what your life would have been like if you would have declined Daryl's offer to come and live with him and his brother after Luna's death, you wonder if you would even be here right now, you wonder if they're even alive anymore and the thought of Daryl and Merle being hurt or worse, dead, hurts you so deeply, it feels like you've just stabbed yourself right in the heart.

Truth be told, you can wonder as much as you'd like, at the day of the day, you're pretty damn sure that you would have died really fucking you if you hadn't accepted to live with the Dixons when you did and it hurts like nothing else not knowing what's become of the two people who loved and cared for you ever since you were a little girl. Those two kept you alive and, as of right now, all you can do is hope that they're still out there somewhere, living as good of a life as possible and that makes you sick to your stomach before you've never been one to just sit there and hope but, really, there's nothing else you can do... Well, that, and worry. You can also worry with every fiber of your being, that works too.

It's now 10:00 and you can hear Simon yelling in the front yard for the people going out on the supply run to gather around before he drags them out here himself by the skin of their ass and his words would usually have gotten a giggle out of you but not today, you're just seeing red today and all you can hear are white noises.





1:00 PM //

After three hours clinging to Connor's waist whilst sitting at the back of his bike , every vehicles behind and next to you come to a stop and you take a minute to look around before slowly getting off the motorcycle, stretching a bit when your feet go back on the ground, a small meow-like noise coming out of your mouth as you do, making Connor chuckle.

"Are you making fun of me? " you cross your arms across your chest in mocked offense and slightly pout.

"I wouldn't dare, my dear." he answers, letting his awful British accent out once again and it actually makes you smile a small bit.

"Oddly enough, I don't believe you but, hey, whatever."

He laughs and brings you against his chest, kissing your forehead and winking at you in a friendly manner.

However, when he lets go of you, you can feel a pair of eyes burning holes into the back of your head and you get the awful feeling that those might very well be Negan's so you don't turn around just yet, you can't bring yourself to.

"Alright, you sorry fucks! Time for some awesome team work, yeah? The usual, three group, one with Simon, one with Dwighty boy over here and one with me, y'all got that or do I have to fucking repeat?"

Everyone lets out a "yes" all at the same time like a bunch of weird robots but you only slightly nod your head in acknowledgment.

Faith is standing right beside you and she gives you a small smile before taking your hand in hers and bringing you along with her to Dwight.

"You cool with [y/n] joining us today, D?" she asks, clearly considering him more her friend than her boss.

"F'course, you're okay with that, [y/n]?" he asks you, making sure that that's what you want and you only give him a small smile and a shy nod as an answer but he takes it, he knows yesterday was hard on you.

You see Dwight walking towards Negan, talking to him and you quickly look down when Negan turns his head to stare at you as Dwight keeps on talking to him. You've never felt so damn uncomfortable.

"Where d'you get that bow?" Connor asks curiously as he eyes the weapon in your hand.

"I uh- I-."

"Shit, sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, just drop it, it's all good, m'sorry, darling." he quickly apologizes, trying over his words and you reach out to grab his hand and give it a squeeze to calm him down and let him know that it's okay.

"I-it's okay, Connor."

daryl made it for you as a birthday present.

A few minutes later, all the groups have been assigned different tasks and your group's is to look around the five different small houses the people working at the old factory surrounding you used to live in.

does negan even realize how much effort that is? of course not.

You're way behind everyone else, lost in your thoughts when your mind is be a very last place it should be right now but you can't help it and you don't really care either if you're being honest. You aimlessly wander inside the house you're in and let your legs carry you to the kitchen without even noticing it.

A groan brings you completely out of your bubble and pulls you right back into the real world to directly be greeted by a walker which is missing its bottom jaw and an arm. Its a man, well, at least it used to be, its really skinny and you wonder how long it's been since it had its last meal.

It always upsets you whenever you come across walkers, you feel horrible knowing that they used to be simple people just like you, that some of them probably have a tone of history but you'll never know anything about it. It's just hurtful to you.

You reach for you knife as an automatism and groan in frustration when you remember that Negan has it. Your frustration is quick to take over you and you end up bashing the poor dead bastard's head against the edge of a counter top before letting it fall on the floor and finish it by stumping on it with your heavy combat boot. You feel like crying and screaming on top of your lungs when you realize how you handled that walker, its head is almost completely gone and all you can think about is how similar it is to what you've done yesterday.

"I hate him!" you keep on shouting the same three words over and over again, smashing whatever has the mischance to get within your reach on the floor and, by the time you've calm down, there's glass shattered all over the floor, you're out of breath and your face is soaked in tears and sweat.

You sit on top of a counter and try to catch your breath, letting the last of your tears freely fall out of your eyes. You feel exhausted after that breakdown but you know that you'll have to hide that when you'll walk out of this house to get back with your group.

You smile a small bit when you spot a full jar of Nutella standing right beside the sink of the kitchen and you reach out to grab it before looking down at it. You know that you have to bring it back to Negan and it upsets you because when you used to live by yourself you didn't have to do that. Hell, you never had to do that even when you lived in groups, you would share your stuff with them and you'd always do it happily but it's different with him, he wants it all for himself, always and with every single thing unless he decides that its not fancy enough for his royal ass and, even when he decides he doesn't want certain the things, he doesn't just give them away, no, he has to make people pay for it somehow.

"Once I ate a whole jar of this damn thing just to prove my mom wrong about me being allergic to hazelnuts. You better believe that your boy ended up in the hospital." Randall's voices makes you jump out of your skin as you were too mesmerized by the damn chocolate paste to even realize he came in.

He walks towards you without mentioning anything about the mess this room is in nor the blood you're covered in and he looks through the drawers of the kitchen until he finally finds what he was looking for, "Go ahead, lil' bean, dig in." he says with a smile as he hands you a silver spoon.

You shyly take the spoon from him but, as you're just about to open the jar, you remember what happened, you remember just how cold, isolated and small the cell Negan threw you in yesterday was and you can feel your whole body shaking as well as your eyes filling with hot tears.

You quickly shake your head no, shove the jar and the spoon in the small bag you've been handed to collect things and jump off of the counter top before walking out of the house with shaking legs and tears rolling down on your face which you're quick to wipe away with a shaky hand, refusing to let anyone see just how awful you're feeling at the moment.

You feel terrible for leaving Randall on the spot like that but you still manage to compose yourself and walk back to the trucks where Simon and Negan seem to be having a chat. Without so much as a look or word to them, you quickly drop your full bag off and try to sneak away from them but you barely get to take three full steps when Negan's hand gets a hold of you, stopping you dead in your tracks and you don't move a single inch, you completely freeze on the spot. You're shaking even more violently and he can feel it, hell, he can fucking see it.

"Relax, doll, I just want us to have a nice lil' talk. Think you can do that?" he says right in your ear, making you jump in surprise to his closeness and sending shivers down your spine, his naturally gravelly voice creating an uncomfortable pressure down in your belly. 

You simply nod your head yes, feeling like you'll burst into tears if you open your mouth even for a small second but he's not satisfied with your silence, he never is fucking satisfied with anything.

"Use your big girl's words, [y/n]."

You swallow loudly, making him smirk behind you, and you feel so damn small and vulnerable having him this close to you, it frustrates you so much you could cry. You're probably about to, as a matter of fact.

"Ye-yes, sir, I can d-do that."

"See? Easy peasy."

You let out a shaky breath when he finally gives you your personal space back but you're still tense due to the fact that his hand is still tightly holding your left wrist and his freaking hand is so huge that he's almost pushing against the wounds on your forearm.

He drags you along with him to God knows where in a relatively gentle way, well the Negan version of gentle. You both end up at the very back of the old factory you're scavenging and he finally lets go of your wrist, letting you rub the skin and notice that his hand left a rather visible mark on the fragile skin when your flannel rides up on your forearm as you try and rub to slight burn off.

You look around and see that there's nothing protecting you at the moment, you only have your bow, there's no fences or anything to keep you a small bit safer but it doesn't seem to bother Negan in the sightliest. 

"Why in the holy fuck did you take that damn picture, doll?" he asks clearly referring to the polaroid you took off his wall of horror last night.

"Ho- Wha-" neither your mouth nor your brain seems to be in the mood to co-operate with you at the moment so you only let out an heavy sigh and nervously pull on your fingers, completely avoiding eye contact with Negan, hoping he'll just drop the topic but, of course not because why would he.

"I was going to take it down this morning but it was already fucking gone." he gets closer to you but you quickly take a clumsy step back, a sob leaving your mouth, you're terrified and you're not so sure why anymore. "Hey, c'mon, baby, we need to stop fucking around like that."

we? did he just said we?! what! we need to stop fucking around? is he fucking kidding?!

"I don't need to do anything anymore Negan. I never played with you, I never intended to and I sure as hell never even consider hurting you but you have, you made your own choices. Just- P-please just leave me alone."

He's about to answer when a bunch of walkers literally pop out of nowhere and they're on you in a matter of seconds. You dry your tears, take a deep breath and try to steady your grip on your bow but your vision is completely blurred by your tears and your whole body is shaking out of control.

You can barely hear Negan calling out to you through the buzzing in your ears but a very loud gunshot snaps you out of your panic and you turn around to see Negan glaring at you, he's pissed and if there's one goddamn emotion this man can show and express, you better believe that anger is fucking it.

"What in the holy fuck was that! Are you hur-"

He gets interrupted once again by a walker that must have been roaming close enough to hear the gunshot and quickly find the source. You completely freeze for a second as you watch Negan getting pushed against a wall, creating a loud banging noise when his body makes contact with the steel covering the surface.

Everything feels so unreal to you at this instant, all you can hear is the sound of the walker's teeth snapping together and that's it. Your head hurts so bad, your whole body is aching and, before you know it, you find yourself picking Lucille off the ground where Negan dropped her when he took his gun out, run up behind the walker snapping its jaw at Negan's face and, without even thinking about it, you swing the bloody bat right to the left side of the walker's rotten face, making it fall down and you keep swinging Lucille down on its head until the body goes completely limp.

The problem is that there's so much adrenaline, sadness and anger running through your veins at the moment that you can't stop yourself from bringing that damn bat down on whatever you're surrounded by until you start beating on the walls with it, creating loud banging noises walkers around the area are sure to hear loud and clear.

You feel Negan's hands gripping your waist tightly and lifting you completely off the ground, making you drop his bat as you struggle against his hold.

"Let go of me! It's all your fault, Negan! It's all your fault, I hate you!" you cry out, wiggling around, struggling against him, trying to get away from him as all of your anger finally drips out of you much to your dismay.

He ends up firmly pinning you against the wall he was stuck against minutes prior to that, quickly grabs your hands to hold them tightly together in one of his and forces you to look at him with his free hand holding your jaw.

"Go ahead, keep going." he orders while looking at you, carefully watching your expression and following a few tears as they roll down your face, "Go ahead, baby, tell me how much you fucking hate me."

"Let go of me, I don't want to talk to you!" you snarl through your tears, trying to regain your composure but you just can't stop something that you don't have any control over, "It's all your fault! I- I - I was supposed to be happy, okay?! When do I g-get to be happy? Why don't you just let me have that one little thing! It hurts s-so bad, I hate you so much! I hate you, I hate your stupid face and I hate your attitude, I fucking hate what you do to me! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, Negan!"

"What else, [y/n]?" you feel his forehead touching yours, his breath hitting your lips and you open your eyes to try and look at him but there's so many tears in them that it actually hurts to keep them open, "C'mon, don't you fucking dare hold out on me, empty your damn bag, that shit looks heavy as balls, baby cakes."

is he getting a kick out of this or does he actually fucking care for once in his life? is that what's happening here?

You only look down and shake your head no silently telling him that you're done with his little mind games. You're so tired, fighting with him is exhausting. But when Negan isn't satisfied with something, he always twists it all around until he is.

He "gently" puts you back down on the ground but keeps you from going anywhere until he said what he has to say, "Doll," he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. Your face is a mess, there's hair sticking to your forehead, tears still rolling down your face, your nose is running and your lips are all puffy as well so are your cheeks, "let's say I let you go wonder outside again so that you can go and do whatever the fuck it is you do when you're out here." his words grab your attention his stupid signature smirk appear on his lips when your eyes finally find his, "But, if I do, you'll have to come get your knife every time you're about to head out and you damn well know that your knife will be with me for the next three weeks so you'll have to come and pay daddy a lil' visit-"

"Yeah so, basically, I don't get to go out anymore, that's what you're saying." you bitterly spit out, knowing there just had to be a catch but still feeling the sting of his snaky ways, "You know that I don't want to have anything to do in your quarters, I already told you." your head is hurting like crazy at this point, you're tired of his tricks, you're tired of him using them on you more specifically. 

"Don't cut me off, darlin', I fuckin' hate that shit." he gets even closer to you, completely crushing you between the wall behind you and his body, "Now, as I was saying; you come to me, politely ask for the damn knife and I'll give it to you if you didn't skip any meal before hand."

"A-and you'll let me g-go out?"

"If you take your meals? Definitely, baby."

"B-but how would y-"

"I'll know 'cause I'm everywhere, doll. I always fucking know." you slowly nod your head, quietly telling him that you're okay with that before dropping it back down and he smiles in return, nudging your nose with his to get you to look back up at him and pushing his forehead against yours when you do, "Yeah?" he asks, that cocky smirk of his back in full force.

"Y-yeah, I can d-do that."

"Atta girl."

He'd be lying if he said that he didn't want to take you against that damn wall right there and then, he craves you, he feels like shit and he fucking needs you but it's pretty damn clear to him that even the most innocent kiss from him is not something you want right now. In fact, he's pretty damn sure that you're fucking terrified of him and he's right, you are, you can't help it and he can't blame you for it either.

However, you're really happy about the little deal you have with him now even though you know that it'll be really hard to take all your meals, it's worth a shot if it means getting a small bit of your freedom back.

"Alright, doll. You okay to get back to work?" he asks actually genuinely concerned about your health.

"Y-yes, m'okay." you say, your voice barely above a whisper and shyly look up at him as he's towering over you, "Y-You?" you ask, not able to stop yourself from worrying about him and, you can't lie, your heart damn near jumped out of your chest when you saw that walker get the jump on him.

"I'm alright, baby girl." he whispers back to you and he can't help himself, he leaves a lingering kiss to your forehead before stepping back and letting you walk away from him, hoping that you'll get the hell out of his sight before he says something he doesn't usually say, if ever, but he can't hold it in any longer, "Y'know, for what it's worth, I'm really fucking proud of you, [y/n]."

And that's all it takes to put a small smile on your face and to set your cheeks on fire, you whisper a thank you and keep heading back to the rest of the group as Negan finds himself feeling like a freaking whale was just taken off of his shoulders... Feelings are weird.





9:00 PM //

You've finally found the strength to get out of your warm shower and run back into your room where you quickly put the pajamas you've found earlier on today on, they're so comfortable and warm it almost makes you purr.

You're so worn out after everything, you're a mess and you feel more lost than ever, you hate the way you're feeling right now if you're being completely honest with yourself. You're used to feeling shitty but you've never, ever, felt this specific way before and you would gladly have passed on the occasion.

You let out a tired sigh and let yourself fall on your bed but quickly sit back up when your back hits something really hard on the mattress.

"What the-" you turn your head around and spot a huge jar filled with chocolate paste, "He did not." you take it and look at it, there's a small note on to cap.

"fill your lil' tummy up with chocolate and I promise you you'll forget about your troubles... cos you'll be too busy thinking about how much your stomach hurts, yay!"

It's not signed but it doesn't need to be for you to know who it's from.

of course he would do something like this.

You slip into your slippers, grab the jar of Nutella and get out of your room just to go knock on the door right next to yours which his Randall's.

He opens the door with a smile on his face as if he was expecting you and you quickly shove past him and walk into his room. He closes the door and turns around to look at you with the same damn smile on his face.

"What were you thinking Randall? You could get in so much trouble for that! You can't sneak things in and out for me, what the hell? I won't be the reason for you getting hurt by Negan again, screw that! Are you out of your freaking mind!?" you're in complete panic over a damn jar of Nutella but you're way too concerned about your friend's safety to care right now.

"[Y/n]," he tries to catch your attention but you keep on mumbling incoherent things, "[Y/n]!" you finally stop talking and look up at him with teary eyes, "Damn, sweet pea, I didn't steal anything, I promise. I bought it."

"You b- You used your freaking points on me? Randall-"

"Yes. Yes, I have and I was more than happy to, [y/n]. C'mon, just let me have this, please?" you let a small sigh of defeat as he gives you his damn, adorable puppy eyes and you end up hugging him tightly, whispering a "thank you" against his chest, "You're welcome, beautiful." he gently pulls away from you, tells you to make yourself comfortable and walks towards his wide open wooden chest where he fetches a bunch of things out and joins you on his bed.

You hesitantly grab a really pretty looking glass bottle and read the inscriptions on it, it's cherry liquor.

"Can I have some? S'my favorite." you ask, looking down at the bottle, afraid that you may have sound greedy.

"F'course you can, sweet pea. Go ahead, take a swing." he says with a smile and looks back down to lit the candle in his hand before putting in on top of his nightstand as you take a big sip of the strong liquor.

You feel your throat burning and your stomach getting upset with you the moment the alcohol reaches and coats it entirely. It's been two days now since you've last eat something and consuming alcohol with an empty stomach is never good.

"Here," a silver spoon shows up right in front of your face as Randall waits for you to take it, "dig in." he says with a smile, repeating the same words he said to you earlier on today only this time you actually open the jar and dip the spoon in the thick paste before bringing it up to your mouth, smiling when the chocolate hits your tongue.

You can't even recall when was the last time you've had chocolate and you're so happy to finally taste it again that you almost fell like crying which kind of makes you feel like a lunatic.

meh, better to cry over chocolate than over a man.

"Good?" you hear Randall chuckle and you open your eyes which you didn't even realize were closed and blush furiously as you make eye contact with him.

"So freaking good." you admit with a shy giggle and a mouth full of chocolate.

You two stay sitting down on his bed, legs crossed, sharing your beverage and your chocolate whilst getting to know each other a little better. So far here's what you've gathered; he's twenty-four, he used to be a tattoo artist and he was engaged to someone way before the world went to shit. Neither of you really asked any deeply personal question, you both know that tonight isn't a good night for it, not with the state that you're in.

At this point, you've been talking for two whole hours, it's almost midnight but you're not willing to go to bed, truth be told, it's more that you don't want to sleep all alone tonight, you love having Randall around, he makes you feel safe and appreciated.

"Okay, okay, my turn, right?"

"Sadly." you giggle

"Aw c'mon, I'm not that bad. So, uh... Oh, I know, who's your favorite villain?"

"Harley Quinn, easy." you answer, shrugging your shoulders.


"Hey, you only get one question mister, s'my turn." you pause and think about something to ask him without getting too personal, "Okay, I got one, have you ever eat something, like, really freaking gross?"

"Ugh, God, yeah. I had to fucking eat worms once and a raccoon-" he makes a disgusted sound, like he's gagging and you have to hold back your laughter as he genuinely seems traumatized by the experiences, "just thinking about it kinda makes me wanna puke so, let's leave it there, yeah?"

"Ew, worms? Ew! Why would you eat those, Randall? Eeew!"

"I didn't have the choice, believe it or not." he says with a giggle.

"I believe it, trust me, it's just- ew."

"Okay, my turn, why Harley Quinn?"

"Well," you let out a small sigh, "everyone thinks that she only has a purpose as the Joker's girlfriend but I feel like there's way more to her plus I really like her twisted personality because despite everything she still has her limits, she's still human, y'know?" you look up at him and let out a nervous giggle, "Am I being stupid?"

"No, not at all, I really like your take on things actually."

You grew up watching cartoons and you immediately got attached to Harley Quinn when she first showed up in one of your favorite series, the Batman animated series. If you had to take a wild guess as to why you relate to her so much, you'd say that her hidden vulnerability, the fact that she's been through abuse just like you and the way she sometimes breaks down are the reasons why you project yourself so much on her.

We all have our very own ways to deal with bad times, yours was this fictional character simply because she's the only thing you've ever got close to someone you could somehow relate to.

"Ever heard of ink-less tattoos?" Randall asks, not giving you the time to feel awkward about your little confession.

"N-No, what's that?" you ask genuinely curious.

"It's the same basic concept as a tattoo, the only thing that changes is that, you're not actually tattooed with a needle and ink, you just use the tip of a needle, dip it into a small fire for it to heat and you draw your tattoo with the heated steel, it's basically just a burn that looks like whatever you want it to look like. I've lost count of how many stupid shit I've burned on my friends' asses over the years" he adds with a chuckle, getting a laugh and a "eew" out of you, the sound only making his smile turn into a grin.

"Can I have one?" you ask way too excited about getting burned but he really tickled your curiosity and now you want one.

"It hurts, sweet pea."

"Randall, I've been shot, stabbed, beat up and I harm myself every two freaking days, believe me, my tolerance to pain is pretty high."

"It happened again, [y/n]?" he asks with a concerned voice and worried eyes.

"I-" you sigh in defeat and shoot him a pleading look silently telling him that you don't want to think about that right now.

He gives you a small smile, leans towards you and kisses your forehead before whispering a quiet "okay" against your skin.

He gets off the bed and looks through his nightstand, fetching a clean needle in a sterile package, the same kind he used to tattoo people with, before coming back on the mattress. He settles on top of the bed and leans against the headboard before patting the space between his parted legs so you can crawl between his thighs and he gently pushes your upper body against his chest, silently telling you to relax and you almost immediately do so.

"Alright, what do you want and where, sweet pea?" he asks, his voice hitting your bare neck and making goosebumps pop all over your skin.

"A-A rose on the right side of my left thumb, p-please?"

"You got it." he says before leaving a kiss behind the shell of your ear and you feel him move around behind you for a while before he settles, "If it hurts too much just tell me, okay? I need you to promise me, [y/n]."

"I promise."

He doesn't say anything else and you suddenly feel a violent shot of pain ripping through your whole arm has the hot needle burns your skin, your arm twitch but you stay still has Randall starts to draw the flower on the side of your thumb.

"You okay?"

"Yep. You just do that directly on the skin like that?"

"Well, not normally but I don't really have any transfer sheets on me at the moment, sweet pea." he says with a small laugh.

"Don't get smart with me, Randy." you giggle.

"Ugh, don't call me that. Negan calls me that, s'awful."

"Alright then, how shall I call you then?" your arm twitches again underneath the heated needle but you keep on distracting yourself by talking to Randall, "How 'bout big papa, how's that?" you say with a small laugh.

"Big papa, uh? Sounds pretty damn badass to me."

"Sounds more like the name of a prison inmate." you put on a scruffy voice, "Hey there, I'll be your inmate for the rest of your days, call me Big Papa you lil' bitch."

He takes the needle away from your thumb and looks at down before laughing and playful shaking his head in mocked disapproval.

"Big Papa's seen some shit boy." you add with your regular, way softer, voice as you're not able to keep the scruffy, manly one up anymore because it hurts your throat, making the two of you laugh.

god damn, it feels so good to laugh.

It's now past midnight, there's a seriously beautiful - swollen and slightly bleeding - rose burned on the delicate skin on the right side of your left thumb and you're curled up against Randall's chest as you're both laying on his bed underneath a warm blanket, the two of you slowly but surely falling into a deep sleep.

"It ain't your fault, sweet pea." you're so tired, you can't even answer him so you just squeeze even closer to him to let him know that you're still awake and listening, "I'm so fucking sorry about what happened, I'm so sorry that you had to go through it and I'm so fucking sorry that I didn't do a damn thing about it, I was just- I was so fucking angry, I just- I fucking froze like a dumbass." he brings you closer to him and snuggles you further into his arms, bringing his blanket higher on your shoulders, "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'll always be there, even when I'm not, I promise you that, sweet pea. I care so fucking much about you."

"I care about you too, Randall. I don't want you to leave." you sleepily whisper, your mind not even sure if you actually said the words out loud or just though them out.

but he will.

"I won't."

After this, the both of you silently fall asleep tightly curled up against one another as if you're afraid of the possibility to somehow lose the other in the bed.

Admittedly you'll say that you actually are scared shit-less of that possibility, the possibility that death might touch him, the possibility to lose a friend, the possibility that, someday, the rose on your thumb might be all that's left of him for you to have a hold onto and it fucking hurts to even think about thinking about it.  

Chapter Text

1:15 AM; //

Another one of your violent night terror woke you up, making you jump against Randall's chest but, thankfully, it didn't seem to disturb his deep sleep one bit.

"How can someone sleep so deeply nowadays." you quietly whisper to yourself as you carefully slip away from his grip and body warmth, immediately regretting your decision, especially when you hear him grunt in his sleep at the loss, and you silently sit down on the mattress, push off the warm comforter from your body, whimpering as the cold air in the room hits you and gently get out and off the bed.

"Thank you." you whisper softly to the sleeping Randall laying on the bed, pull out the lit candle on his nightstand, bring his blanket further up on his shoulders and quietly leave the bedroom, closing the door behind you just to lean against it afterwards.

You bring your left hand up and smile as you gently run a shaky finger over the rose burned on your soft skin, it's still a small bit swollen but it's not bleeding anymore. There's small patches of dry blood on the flower and you can't resist but to scratch them away.

On an impulse, you decide to go outside to get some air since you know that your mind is racing way too much for you to be able to go back to sleep anytime soon, anyway.

You make your way to your bedroom, take your pajamas off to get into Randall's jeans and a grey hoodie, the same damn grey hoodie you were wearing when Jason took you away, the same damn grey hoodie that's now covered in your blood because no one seems to be able to completely wash it off. You try not to think about, you really do, but it still seems to stay in a corner of your mind and it frustrates you.

You didn't really talk about what happened with Jason, you don't want to... Or maybe you do? You're not sure, I mean, what's there to say, anyway? And what's it gonna change for you? It's done, it happened and you can't change that, you just can't.

This complete stranger took you away from other people just because he believed that he had the right to claim you as his, he judged your scars and created brand new ones, he mentally abused you, he touched you like you were his to touch and, worst of all, he looked at your body like it was his to judge.

You feel gross just thinking about it. This is not okay, it never was and it never will be but, for some reason, you don't feel like it's all that big a deal. He wasn't the first man to ever lay his filthy hands on you, he wasn't the first one to ever try and take advantage of your shyness and kindness but, all in all, he also wasn't the first one you fought off.

You feel like you should be relieved that he's not walking on the same ground as you anymore but you just can't find it in you to feel even slightly better about the whole situation, no matter how completely dead the fucker is.

you did kill him... and four of his men, seems like something your lilttlefriend negan would do, just sayin'.

You frown at that though. That's not you talking and you know that but it doesn't stop it from behind hurtful and worrying to you. What if you actually are like him after all?

You shake your head left and right, slip your combat boots on and run out of your room, feeling like you're about to suffocate in here.





You're just about to cross the huge open doors of the main working area of the compound leading to the front yard, when your hardheaded nature takes over and whispers to you to go and get what's yours back.

we need our knife back, it's ours, he can't just take it away from us like that, I mean, c'mon, [y/n]!

You stop in your tracks and turn back to look around the huge compound until your eyes finally stop on the huge staircase leading up to the big deck standing tall above the rest of the room you've spotted last night before letting yourself get distracted by the wall of horror to your left.

how much you wanna bet that whatever's up there belongs to negan.

You let out a small sigh; of course this stairs lead to another part of the place that exclusively belongs to Negan, the simple fact that this deck is high-up, standing above everything else, gives it away.

You carefully step closer to the big, quite intimidating staircase and hesitantly put a foot on the first step, letting out a shaky breath as you do so. Is it really worth it? Plus, you don't have the energy to fight with him, not again, you can't keep up with that crap anymore, you don't want to. If he catches you roaming around where you're not supposed to- Hell, you don't even want to think about it.

You climb up the stairs and finally make it to the deck. You look around and you can perfectly picture Negan standing there, Lucille on his shoulder, his people kneeling on the hard ground of the compound, not daring to look up at him, bowing down to him like he's some kind of God but you know better than that.

You sigh and jump up on the safety ramp to sit down on it, your feet dangling in emptiness. You're terrified of heights, you have no idea what the hell you are doing sitting there, why your feet are literally hanging in complete emptiness but, for some odd reason, it feels kind of right. Everything seems so small below you, is that what Negan likes so much about it?

"Can't sleep either, uh, baby girl?"

An all too familiar scruffy voice echoes right behind you, sending shivers down your spine and causing the hair at the back of your neck to stand straight up.

You're completely frozen, it's like hearing his voice brought you straight back down to Earth and you're now only realizing just how freaking high-up you actually are. There's nowhere for you to go; on one side, there's completely emptiness and, on the other, there's the possibility of you ending up face to face with Negan and that has to be one of the last things you want right now.

"N-no." you simply answer, your grip getting tighter on the safety ramp you're sitting on.

"I can't even see your goddamn face but I can still tell that you're fucking terrified, question is; what's scaring you?" you hear him taking a step closer and his breath hits the shell of your ear right after, "You're scared 'cause you know damn well that you're not fucking supposed to be here or is it because you're really fucking high up right now, princess?" his arms snake around your waist, making your whole body go completely stiff as he slowly brings your back against his chest and, before you can keep it from happening, your small shaking hands tightly grab onto his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh, seeking safety, "C'mere, baby girl." he coos before lifting you up off of the ramp and keeps you firmly against his body, waiting for you to calm down and for your legs to be able to support you again once your feet make contact with the deck's floor again.

"You better not be there for what I fucking think you're here for 'cause I'm gonna be even more pissed, sweetheart." he lowly whispers in your ear, anger slightly showing through his voice.

"W- I- But-" between the sobs that you're fighting really hard to swallow back, your uneven breath and the fact that you're completely crushed against Negan's body, you can't bring yourself to form a proper sentence no matter how hard you try.

"Words, princess." he says with a small chuckle, not mocking you but amused by how flustered you get whenever he's around.

"M-my kn-knife, I-" you let out a deep, shaky breath, as you desperately try to form a simple sentence without stuttering, "C-can I- Can I have it back, p-please?"

You hear Negan sigh behind you and feel his grip loosen around your waist until he completely lets go of you, turning you around for you to face him as one of his hands comes up to your face to keep you from looking away, "We've already talked about this, haven't we, baby?" he raises his eyebrows when the only answer he gets is your eyes dropping to the ground as you try real hard not to let any tears slip out.

"I wanna go home." you let out barely above a whisper and Negan only catches it because the place is really quiet.

"Where the fuck is home, doll?" he asks with a frown.

"I- I dunno."

There's a small silence, your whole body tense due to the fact that Negan's hand is still resting on your cheek and you're not really comfortable with that, it just feels too intimate.

Your eyes close because you feel like you might blow up if you make any sort of eye contact with him but it results in you being completely unaware of the fact that Negan's eyes dropped down to your left hand, spotting the fresh burn sitting on your delicate skin, his jaw clenching and an odd feeling curse through his veins as he examines the rose on the outside of your thumb.

"Nice lil' burn you got there, baby girl." your eyes snap open and your whole body tenses right back up, making you feel as if there's a freaking board stuck to your back, "Let's go have a lil' chat, uh? Yeah." he says through his clenched jaw and starts to literally drag you through an open door leading back inside.

"W-wait-" you try to keep him from moving you any further by sticking your feet to the ground but the glare he shoots you shuts your protest down as fast as it began.

He closes the door behind you and drags you to a big room filled with couches and a small bar, there's a chess-table and a few plants here and there. A shiver runs down your spine when you realize that you're in the room his "wives" spend their days in, the strong, toxic, smell of nail polish and the cliché girly magazines laying all over the place easily giving your location away.

You're not sure what the emotion you're feeling right now is, all you know is that; you hate it. You harshly slip off of his tight grip, making him turn around to look at you, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips as he loses his patience.

He carefully looks at your face, your tired and teary eyes, your lips swollen from you biting down on them, your cheeks burning a crimson red and your eyebrows slightly furrowed in what he assumes to be anger and/or confusion.

He steps closer to you, making you uncomfortably small, "You seriously think Randy boy is the man for you, baby girl? That it?" he gives you his cocky signature smirk and looks down at your left hand, his jaw visibly clenching again.

You're not sure what it is; his cocky attitude, his smirk, his overly confident self or simply his words but something pushes you over the edge and you end up shoving him away from you, at least a small bit as he still is way bigger than you and you're completely drained.

You nervously run a shaking hand through your messy hair, slightly pulling at them out of frustration, "I can't- I can't- Negan, I-" you clench your jaw and swallow your tears back but a single one escapes you and your whole body twitches when Negan's hand comes down on your face to wipe it away, "Do you even care about me?" you ask barely above a whisper as tears of pure anger and hurt start to stream down your tired face, "Do you want me to take my meals because you care about my health or is it just that you feel like you have to have complete control over me?" you shyly look up at him and your body starts to shake when you see the look on his face, "Is that why you took my knife away? Because you feel like you should be i-in control o-of- of-" you lose track of your words when Negan steps closer and closer to you until he has you completely pinned down against a door, "I hate you so much, why are you like this?" you whisper whilst looking down at your boots.

"You're the fucking reason why." he says lowly, his voice scruffier than usual.

How dare he put his shitty behavior on you? He's been like this way before you came into his life, you're not the reason why he's such a prick, you're not to fucking blame for his crappy attitude and mentality. But then again, you might actually be the cause of a change in him and that's what he was referring to rather than his violent personality, you just don't know that yet.

You're about to snap at him, slap his stupid face off and send it to fucking Jupiter, but, just as you're about to spit venom out of your mouth, he brings his lips down on yours in an oddly gentle way, so gently that you're actually more surprised by that rather than the fact that he's kissing you.

You feel like you should really just push him off of you and throw him out the nearest window but, for some reason, you can't bring yourself to move a single muscle, you don't even kiss him back but you don't push away either, you don't want to or maybe you do? You're lost and it's all his fault.

He makes you dizzy, he somehow manages to complete you just as easily as he can break you completely, he makes you whole yet he's the only person able to leave you feeling completely hollow in a blink of an eye. It just hurts, plain and simple. Or maybe not that plain and definitely not that fucking simple either.

"I was so scared when that lunatic took me away from you." you let out as soon as his lips leave yours, "I wasn't afraid just because he was touching me and trying to claim me as his." you shyly look up to Negan's eyes as his forehead rests on yours, his breathing heavy and his eyes looking straight into yours, "I was scared because he wasn't you." you stop and let a sob out, "He... he w-wasn't you, Negan. A-and he- he just-" you push your forehead further against his, your nose now touching his, as you're desperately seeking safety and comfort, "I'm scared." you whisper as another tear escapes from your eyes. 

Before he can even think of words to say, your small right hand is grabbing the back of his neck and pushing his lips back on yours, keeping him as close to you as possible, your jealousy and craving showing right through but Negan doesn't seem to mind at all. He actually takes full part in the heated kiss by pushing you flush against the door behind you, gripping your thighs and lifting you up, your legs immediately snaking around his waist, before pushing his lips further against yours, grunting as he does, sending shivers down your spine but those shivers seem to bring you back to your senses and you end up pushing Negan away from you, again.

"Wha-" he starts but you cut him off with a slap, making his head snap to the right, his jaw clenched when he looks back at you.

"What are you doing to me!?" you break into tears again but they're not tears of sadness, no, they're tears of pure frustration and anger.

He completely ignores your question and, in only two steps, he's right back in front of your face again, his eyes are dark and there's a clear, small open cut on his cheekbone. His hand wraps itself around your fragile neck and he roughly pushes you back against the wooden door you were leaning on a few seconds ago.

Your small hands reach up to scratch and claw at his forearm to try and get him to let go of you but his free hand quickly stops your movement as it pins both of your arms above your head against the door.

"Oh girly, you're in a fucking world of goddamn trouble." he carefully watches your face as you keep on wiggling around to try and pry his hand away from your throat but it only makes his grip tighten and, you don't feel it coming when a small whimper slips past your puffy lips as your body seems to be enjoying the breath play going on and that's, of course, something that Negan immediately spots, making his cocky smirk appear on his lips. "It ain't right, doll." he says with a frown but his lips are still wearing that damn smirk of his.

You try to ask him what he means by that but only a shaky breath comes out of your mouth as his hand on your throat keeps you from talking, "You should be mine, you should be right by my fucking side all day fucking long, you should be my fucking princess." he narrows his eyes at you and gets a small bit closer to you, the tip of your noses touching, "I'll fucking kill every single damn man left on this goddamn planet to make sure that no one ever fucking looks at you the same way I fucking do. D'y'know just how fucking mad I get whenever I catch one of my men looking at you or fucking talking to you or about you? It makes me want to fucking bash them 'til there's nothing but a patch of blood left of 'em."

And as he roughly unravels in front of you, between him admitting to be beyond jealous, his cocky smirk that normally would make you blow a fuse, his darkened eyes and his rough hand gripping your throat, you can't help but unravel as well.

It's all too much for you and, at this point, it feels like you're not in control of your body, nor your vocal cords, anymore and you can't stop the small needy noises from slipping out of your mouth as your teeth keep on digging harder and harder into your fleshy bottom lip, almost making you taste blood.

"You were fucking *made for me, baby girl." he snarls, his lips grazing yours, making you want to cry and beg.

You try to say something but his hand is keeping you from doing so and he seems to realize it so he slightly loosen his grip on your throat and his smirk gets wider when he can already spot a huge hand print on your soft skin, his hand print.

He waits for you to say whatever you wanted to say but you're so overwhelmed that you can't think of anything else but his lips and, soon enough, you end up pushing your head up against his to let your lips softly rest against his and you difficultly keep yourself from actually kissing him as you don't want to get into more trouble with him.

"You're fucking mine, been mine since fucking day one, baby girl." he says with his scruffy voice and immediately crashes his lips into yours afterwards, pushing your head back against the door behind you where your hands are still trapped above your head.

You kiss him back with all your might as his right hand is still keeping you from breathing properly, your head is spinning from the lack of oxygen and you're seeing stars but you don't give a damn, you could fucking pass out and you still wouldn't care. His lips moving hungrily against yours is all that matters to you at the moment, his smell, his taste and his touch is all that you crave and it makes you forget about your primal needs such as air.

His grip on your throat loosen and he gives you a few minutes to catch your breath as his left hand finally lets go of your hands and they immediately find their way into his dark hair to pull him right back to your lips. Your eagerness amuses him just as much as it turns him on and he just can't deny you but he sure as shit wants to take advantage of your vulnerability.

"You're so fucking needy, baby girl." he coos against your lips, teasing you.

His lips are right against yours, your skin is touching his but he just stands there with his cocky smirk stuck on his face.

"P-ple-please." you whine as you wiggle around in his arms.

"Please what, baby?" he asks with darkened eyes, waiting for you to say that one damn word that'll send him into overdrive.

"P-please, daddy."

"Good girl." he growls and forcefully pushes his lips back on yours, his tongue not waiting for an invitation and directly slipping in-between your slightly parted lips as his right hand comes back down on your throat, making you whimper.

A few minutes go by where it's just the two of you heavily making out and rutting against each other like goddamn animals in heat. Your cheeks are burning red, your breathing is heavy and your lips are all swollen, as for Negan, he doesn't seem to give a damn about his need for air anymore, it almost seems like he forgot about it actually, his lips are never leaving yours, not even when he whispers praises to you.

This is stupid, you know it is. He hurt you and he'll do it again and again and again and- well, eventually, it'll end up being too much for you to handle so you rather not think about it if you're being honest.

It feels like all of your senses come back to you in a second, the awful smell of weird perfume mixed with the smell of nail polish, you suddenly remember where you are and what you're doing... and with who.

You hate how much you crave this man, how safe you feel in his arms, the way his rough hand wrapped around your throat makes you feel, the way he sends you into overdrive with just a smirk and, God, do you hate how jealous you are. You hate that you're not the one and only girl in his life and you hate to even think about thinking about him sleeping with them, kissing them and taking care of them, it hurts you so bad, it just isn't worth it.

You push him away from him and try to regain your composure as best as you can before he starts asking you what the hell is going on but, oddly enough, he never does, he just looks at you with a slight frown.

"[Y/n], baby-"

"You can either have them all and let go of me definitively or-" you pause and look at him, nervously pulling at your fingers, "Or y-you can- You can have me. B-but- but you can't have both, I won't let you."

"Are you seriously doing this shit to me right now, baby girl?" he says with what seems to be a nervous laugh to you.

"Y-you've done wa-way worse t-to me, Negan a-and I don't-" you let out a small, tired, sigh, "You're hurting me rea-really badly and I ca-can't take it anymore." 

A silence filled with tension fills the room and it's when Negan lets out an heavy sigh that you decide to cut through this tension with your sharpest knife.

"A-alright then." you let a nervous giggle, trying not to cry in front of him again, "Forget about me then." you quickly walk to the door leading out of the room but you stop in front of it when Negan calls out for you, you don't let him talk though, you don't even turn around, "Don't you dare hurt Randall, Negan, 'cause I will kill you if you lay another hand on him." you say through a tightly clenched jaw, angry as you recall just how badly he's beat him up in the past out of jealousy.

now get the fuck out of here and don't let him get to you, not again.

You quickly open the door and get out of the room when you hear Negan's footsteps getting closer to you. You close the door behind you and run down the giant staircase, the really cold air filling the open compound cutting right through your delicate skin as you walk straight back to Randall's room, feeling like you could seriously use some comfort right now.

You feel like shit running back to Randall after what just happened with Negan. It's not that Randall is a second option to you, hell no, he's more like your comfort zone, kind of like... Home, in a way.

You unzip the dark jeans that you're wearing and gently push the door to Randall's bedroom open and close it behind you just as quietly, not sure if he's awake or not but not willing to take the risk to wake him from his slumber. You slip out of your combat boots, let your pants fall and pool at your ankles before stepping out of them and turning around to get inside the warm bed.

You jump slightly when you see that he's awake, watching you as he's laying on his side, leaning on his right forearm on the mattress as he watches you with a small smile, "Got a lot on your mind don't ya, sweet pea." he affirms more than he asks as he looks at your puffy eyes and your swollen lips.

"Y-yeah, I-" you drop your head down as you can feel tears filling your eyes yet again, "I-I'm sorry that I left like that i-in the middle of the night, I just- I had a rea-really bad dream and th-then I thought ab-about Jason and- and then I w-wanted to go get some fresh air b-but I d-decided to sneak around N-Negan's back to get my kn-knife back b-but he cau-caught me and- and then I- I- We k-kissed and- and now I have marks a-all over me and- and- and I-"

"Hey," Randall quickly gets out of his bed to take you in his arms, burying you in his embrace, his bare chest warming you up, "shh, it's okay, sweet pea. S'alright, relax, breathe for me, yeah?." he looks down at you, frowning slightly as he spots Negan's hand print on the delicate skin of neck, "I knew you two had a- uh- how can I put it... A complicated relationship? I mean, I understood that when he beat my ass for ''being too close to you for his liking''." he says with a small laugh but his words only make you sob into his chest as you recall how beat up his face was that day, "H-hey, no, no, no, don't cry, baby. Shh, shh, it's okay. It ain't your fault." he gently grabs your face and forces you to look up at him, his thumbs softly wiping a few of your tears away and you purr at the gesture, "It's not your fault, me getting my ass beat? Wasn't your fault, that man dying? Not your fucking fault either and you falling in the horrible fucking loops that are Negan's mind games? It ain't your fucking fault either, you hear me?"

You only nod your head yes and hide back into his chest, making him chuckle softly at your antics, "Alrighty then, now, I love you and all, sweet pea, but it's, like, three in the morning and I'm still really fucking tired so, how 'bout we go to back to sleep and we'll talk tomorrow? Well, more like, later today actually... We have a fucking long ass supply run scheduled today and we can't go out there with our heads in our ass. Believe me, it's really fucking dark in there, plus it really fucking hurts. I mean, it's a whole head we're talking about here."

You give him a friendly punch on the shoulder, the giggle escaping your lips making a huge contrast with your teary and tired eyes but the sound seems to make Randall happy none the less.

He lifts the thick comforter of the bed to let you crawl underneath it and you do with red cheeks as you realize that you're on all four in front of him with no pants on but he doesn't make any comments on it, he only lets himself fall, literally, right on top of you, crushing you and making you laugh a little too loudly but neither of you care.

He brings the thick, warm blanket on top of your heads so you both end up completely buried underneath it and he flops right next to you on the comfortable mattress.

You feel like a child again, you used to love building pillows forts to protect you from the "monsters" outside. It's funny, because, when you think about it? That's you're whole life now; building things up, improvising safe places to protect you from the monsters roaming outside, nothing seems to have the same meaning as it used to though... Okay, so, maybe not so funny, actually.

this new world is so goddamn confusing and painful to live in, dude.

"No offense but, you look ridiculously good when you're deep in your thoughts, sweet pea." Randall teases with a sly smirk, bringing you back to the instant.

"Shush your mouth."

"Oh! Such a potty mouth, I can't believe you right now." he mocks in a friendly manner, making you blush and giggle at the same time.

"I don't like to curse, alright? Leave me alone. You're mean." you say with a small pout.

"Goddamn it." he whispers, looking at you with a small smile.

"W-what is it?" you ask shyly, curious as to why he's looking at you like that.

"It's just- I always feel like, some day, I'm gonna wake up and you'll be gone, y'know? You're too fucking good to be real, what the hell even are you, [y/n]?"

"I uh- Well," you get closer to him and lower your voice to whisper, "don't tell anyone but, I actually am a unicorn dressed up as a human... Sadly this is the only human costume they had left at the store, it's kind of gross if I'm being honest."

"Don't talk down on yourself like that, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen and, shit, I used to be engaged to someone, sweet pea."

Your cheeks are on fire at this point and, since you can't seem to find anything smart to say, you give his cheek a quick peck and bundle up against his chest, your arms folded between his bare chest and your covered one.

"Goodnight, Chicago boy." you say with a small smile, referring to the city he was born in, making him chuckle.

"Goodnight, Batman." he answers, making you giggle, before kissing your forehead and letting his head rest on one of his pillows as he slowly but surely falls right back to sleep in the same rhythm as you.

hell, yeah, m'always batman.





9:00 A.M //

It's already been two hours since you left the Sanctuary, two hours sitting next to Simon in his truck, listening to his horrible uncle jokes that only he laughs at which results in you laughing along, two hours of listening to weird country music and it's so bad that you seriously start considering jumping out of this moving truck an hour ago.

"Do you even understand what this dude is saying, Simon? 'Cause, to me, it just sounds like he's sucking on his mic, it's awkward."

Simon lets out a genuine laugh and looks at you before putting his eyes back on the road, "Hell, can you imagine this dude in the studio." he puts on an awful hillbilly accent on to impersonate his very own version of the singer's manager, "Gerald stops fucking putting the damn mic in your goddamn mouth you fuckin' moron."

You giggle and look at him for a quick second, "Y'know, the first time I saw you wasn't when you decided to drag me out of my hiding hole." he looks at you with raised eyebrows, silently asking you to develop, "I, uh, saw you in the woods before you, uh, "found" me that night. You were actually looking for me, the church and all? It was my foot prints on the ground. I just, uh, I climbed into a tree and, well, when I first saw you, I thought that-" you pause for a second, a small smile appearing on your lips, "I thought you looked like a freaking creep with your mustache and all." you giggle when he lets out a chuckle.

"Damn, you're one hell of a girl, ya know that?" you don't say anything and just look out the window next to your seat knowing that he isn't waiting for an answer anyway, "She hid on a fucking tree." you hear Simon whisper to himself and you can clearly tell that he's smiling, he's attitude relaxing you and putting you at ease.

Negan has been piercing holes in the back of your head all morning and the reason why you're riding with Simon and not with him is only because Faith seem to have sensed your uneasiness and she distracted Negan while you ran to Simon to ask him if you could ride with him and he gladly accepted which you weren't really ready for as he seemed genuinely happy about giving you a ride.

You know that you'll have to explain what's going on to Faith when you'll go back to the Sanctuary but, right now, you're just trying to enjoy a genuinely good moment with Simon. If someone would have told you that you'd end up looking up to him and actually befriend him weeks ago, you would have point them to the nearest asylum but you found out that he actually genuinely cares about you and that he truly respects you, plus he's actually pretty damn funny and nice when he allows himself to be his own person and not another one of Negan's yes man. 

"So... You don't like my mustache, uh? Let's talk about that before we get into a conflict, young lady."

yeah, he's definitely good in my book.


1:00 PM //

You're finally here, wherever the hell "here" is, every vehicle stops and Negan's men start to jump out of the trucks they're pilled in, you're lucky to be riding in the front with the driver because Negan's workers always ride in trucks only reserved for the them to sit at the back of whenever they go out of the Sanctuary since Negan wants to keep the bigger trucks for supplies.

yeah, why the fuck not, pile the people up but careful where you put my new fucking Chinese vases.

You scoff at the thought and quickly jump out of Simon's truck to directly run to Randall who's already waiting for you outside with his hand out for you to grab and Connor by his sides, chatting with Arat.

"Hey, sweet pea." he smiles when you grab his hand and he carefully brings you down and into his arms, "So, what d'you think of Simon's sweet jams?" he teases, clearly trying to keep from laughing.

"You freaking knew? You're the worst, Randall!"

"Yeah," you hear Arat say next to you, "Simon has awful music in his truck, his radio is busted and it's stuck on this crappy station but he says that he rather listens to musical shit than be in complete silence, y'know?"

"Oh." you say quietly, surprised because Simon's never really stroked you as the type of man who doesn't enjoy silence.

You hear hands loudly clapping together and you know that it means that Negan is about to give yet another one of his completely useless and overused speech about how useless everyone is and how he wants everyone to work their ass off to bring him some new shiny toys.

fuck you too buddy... 

You look around as Negan keeps on talking endlessly and you spot Connor all by himself which you find odd, he's usually always making people laugh with stupid puns or at least talking to someone.

"C-Connor? Are y-you okay?"

"Oh, hey there, princess, yeah- Yeah, I uh, I'm all good. You?" he asks, his mind clearly somewhere else.

"I- I'm okay. Hey, you- You know that i-if you ever need anything, to talk or anything else, I'm here for you, alright?"

"Thanks, sweetheart, I'll remember that but I'm okay, I promise."

i don't fucking believe you.

"A-alright then."


3:15 AM //

The groups have been made, you're with Randall, Connor, three other dudes that you don't know the last thing about and Simon, you feel pretty damn good about being outside and the small town you're in is pretty quiet. You've already took down six or seven walkers by now and Simon has officially crowned you the "walker slayer" of the group.

Right now, you're all taking a time out and you're sitting on an old rusty bench away from the rest of the group with Randall as he's smoking a cigarette.

"S'being pretty damn quiet today, kinda weird, uh?"

"Yeah, don't jinx us, Chicago boy."

"That my new official nickname now, sweet pea?" he asks with a smile as he takes another drag out of his cigarette.

"Yup, better get used to it, Chicago boy."

"Way ahead of you."

You both laugh and enjoy the comfortable silence that slowly takes place between the two of you until Randall's laugh breaks it, "It's like we're on a date." he says with a giggle.

"Pff, laaaaame." you say with a smile and slightly reddening cheeks.

"Oh, c'mon, could be worse."

"Yeah, I guess... Sure could be better though."

"Yeah, you're right." he admits with a chuckles, "I never was too good with dates. Hell, I don't even fucking know how the hell I ended up getting engaged."

"What was she like?" you ask a little too quickly, your curiosity once again getting the best of you.


"S-sorry, you don't have to talk about her i-if you don't want to. I'm sorry, that was s-stupid of me, Randall."

"No, no, sweet pea. It's all good." he looks down at you as he's sitting on back of the bench, his feet next to you as you're sitting on the actual bench, "So, she was the same age as me, pretty tall, she had adorable freckles covering her face, she hated them so much but I loved 'em." he chuckles, clearly reminiscing, "She fucking left me the day before our wedding because she got nervous and, shit, she ran off with my best mate, simple as that."

Your expression falls and you look down at the ground beneath your feet, sadly playing with the hem of your t-shirt, unsure of what to say, "T-that's terrible. I'm sorry, Randall. You didn't deserve that."

"Thanks, sweet pea, but you don't have shit to be sorry for, don't worry about it."

Multiple gunshots make the two of you jump out of your skin and you both immediately grab your weapons, you tightly grab your bow and Randall gets a firm grip on his ax, a gun tugged in the waistband of his jeans just in case.

You both run towards the gunshots and find Negan and some of his men fighting a fucking sea of walkers, you panic and start looking around, trying to spot Connor and you let out a sigh of relief when you finally spot him fighting walkers off. Grabbing your bow, you pull an arrow out and lift it up to your shoulder height, straightening your back and taking a deep breath before starting to aim at the rotten reanimated corpses roaming around, excited to see and smell fresh flesh.

You all spend a good fifteen minutes fighting the small herd off, you're out of breath and completely covered in blood, adrenaline is pumping through your veins and the sun is already starting to set which means that you've been fighting the dead off for way longer than you originally thought.

"Alright, c'mon people, let's fucking go home, enough of this shit."

You spot the two other groups of Negan's men that were still scavenging the area -despite the fact that you clearly could have used more hands here- walking towards the trucks and everyone else follows Negan back to the trucks to help load the supplies in.

"Hey, [y/n]-" you hear Connor's voice behind you and you quickly turn around, smiling at him, happy that he's talking to you, "Look, about earlier, you said that I could talk to you if I-"

"C-" you don't even get to start calling his name when the walker you've just spotted behind him sinks its teeth right into the crook of his neck. Your upper body shakes violently as your breath gets caught in your throat, "N-no, no, no, no! Connor, no!"

You shove the walker off of your friend and clumsily sink the sharp end of one of your arrows into its putrefied skull, tears streaming down your face as you crawl over to Connor who's now laying on the hard ground, holding his huge, wide open bite wound with both of his hands, whimpering in pain.

"NEGAN! NEGAN HELP! PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP!" you cry out and bring your attention back to Connor, pushing his hands away from his wound to take over and apply pressure on it, your heart breaking at the squealing sound of your hands making direct contact with his exposed flesh as blood profusely sips through your fingers, "I-it's okay, it's okay, I- I can fix you, you just- You stay with me, okay, Connor? P-please, please don't go, pl-please don't do this to me, it's okay, yo-you're gonna be okay."

"I'll tell y-your dad you-you say hi, p-princess. I'll- I'll tell him, I p-promise." he mumble with a small smile and a shaking voice as his hand weakly reaches up to grab your shaking one as you keep on applying pressure on his wound, "I-I'm- I'm s-so f-fucking gl-glad that I- I got t-to h-have you i-in my- my life, princess. Y-you'll al-always be m-my fav-favorite b-but just-just don't- don't tell, Randall." he says with weak a laugh which makes him cough and his smile gets a little wider for a quick second.

"Wha-what the hell happened? Connor?! What the fuck! Connor!" Randall runs up to you and Connor's body, tears filling his eyes when he spots the lifeless body of his best friend laying on the floor right next to you.

"I- I didn't- I t-tried to- I-" you put your right hand on your mouth to keep your sobs from coming out but it's too no avail as they still make your entire body shake, "He-he's g-gone? Is he- He's- He's g-gone? R-Randall?"

"I- Y-Yeah, he- He's gone, sweet pea."

"B-but- But- He.. He p-promised, Randall, he promised!" you panic and start shaking Connor's body left and right, trying to get him to wake up though the rational part of your mind knows it's not gonna happen, "P-please, no! No, no, no! G-give him b-back, pl-please! P-please, please, please." your head falls on Connor's chest which is no longer moving up and down to the rhythm of his heart, there's nothing left but your memories of him now.

You keep on crying into Connor's chest, your hands clinging to his blood soaked shirt until a pair of strong hands pull you away from him, making you cry out in protest.

"[Y/n], baby, listen to me." You hear Negan speak to you but keep on struggling to get out of his hold and tend back to Connor before he grabs your face with his hands and keeps your eyes on his, "We- Fuck, we need to make sure he won't come back, alright? You know that, that's what he fucking wanted, he fucking told me so, alright?"

You're about to nod your head yes when you hear a really familiar grunting sound behind you and you know that it means Connor is back and it feels like you've lost all sense of danger as you pry yourself away from Negan's grip and quickly get back on the ground right next to Connor which is now looking at you hungrily and, yes, you know this isn't him but you need this, you need to say goodbye.

"[Y/n]-" you hear Negan warn behind you but you ignore him and focus on Connor.

"I'm sorry, Conny, it's my fault, I- I should have- Oh my God, I miss you so much already. I'm gonna miss my friend, I'm gonna miss the goofy man that could always make me laugh no matter what," you pause as Connor starts to snap his jaw towards you and you have to push him away, "I'm gonna miss you so much, Conny." you push your forehead against his as he keeps on snapping his teeth at you, his hands tightly wrapped around your arms, "I- I hope t-that you're at peace now, that y-you're somewhere where you don't have to be scared anymore, you deserve it, Connor, so much. I- I love you, Conny. I'm so sorry." you shakily reach for the knife Randall's shaky hand is holding out for you to take and you both share a look and a nod.

Clench your eyes shut, you take the knife from Randall, his hand closing on yours for a second to give it a squeeze before he lets go of you and you bring your attention back to Connor, Faith gently keeping his shoulders pinned to the road and she gives you a small smile and a sharp nod before nothing makes sliding the sharp blade through your friend's temple, forcing more than you usually have to since his body didn't even have the time to get cold before he turned, any easier. None of it.

After planting a soft kiss on Connor forehead the second his body went limp, you slowly get back up on shaky legs, Negan, Simon, Dwight, Arat, Randall, Faith and the others are all standing right in front of you but you ignore them and just rush into Randall's arms, crying your heart out into his chest as he wipes away his own tears and gently coos you, trying to calm you down and reassure you but it's hard for the both of you right now. Especially when you're soaking in your newly deceased friend's blood.

Negan just stands there, watching as you cry your little heart out into another's man arms and he has to admit that he envies Randall's position, he envies being able to be there for you when you feel down and he never felt that before but, somehow, he doesn't really mind that craving, he's just frustrated because it can't be satisfied at the moment but he knows that he's the only one to blame for that.

Last night made him think and what happened right now, with Connor, definitely did something to him because, for an awful second, when he heard you calling out for help, he lost his shit, dropped what he was doing and rushed to you, afraid that something might have happened to you.

What if it would have been you and not Connor? He can't even bring himself to think about it, he hates to even think about thinking about you getting hurt, hell, he'll lost his shit if he ever sees you so much as getting a fucking paper cut, fuck... He actually loses his damn mind every time he spots the cuts on your forearm. He fucking care so much about you and he knows that he needs to change shit if he wants to regain your trust because letting you walk away from him last night was the worst thing he's ever let happen. 






Your ears are buzzing, your stomach turned into a huge knot, your throat is clenched shut and your eyes are full of tears ready to roll down your face as both of your fists are clenched shut, one tightly gripping a metallic baseball bat.

There's glass shattered all over the place as your house fell victim of your frustration and pain. You're breathing heavily, sobs are uncomfortably rocking your body and, as you look around the house, you realize just how much damage you've done; your couch is turned upside down, a bunch of windows are completely destroyed, vases are broken to pieces on the floor, the flowers living in them laying right next to the shattered pieces on the carpet covering the floor, your t.v is smashed, there's an even bigger mess of shattered glass in your kitchen as you destroyed all the poor dishes you could get your hands on and, in the middle of this whole mess, there's Luna leaning against the threshold of the living room, waiting for you to calm down and to let everything you need out.

"I- I can't-" you look at her from the living room, tears rolling down your face and showing no signs of stopping, "I can't- I can't have k-kids? I can't- Luna-"

"Darling, I know. I'm sorry." she softly coos as she carefully makes her way towards you, pieces of glass cracking beneath her shoes.

"I- I don't- Why can't I- What's wrong with me?"

"It's not your fault, honey. It happens, the doctor told you-"

"I don't care what the doctor said, Luna!" you step away from her and throw your baseball bat on the floor angrily, "My mom was right about me, I'm a pathetic pile of crap, Luna." you let a nervous laugh and turn back around to look at your friend, tears still flowing out of your eyes, "I can't have kids, Luna! I can't do the one thing women are supposed to be able to naturally do! I'm that pathetic." you finish with the same nervous laugh.

"I did not just hear that, you did not just say that, [y/n]." for the first time since you've met her, Luna raises her voice, "That's enough, forget about your mother, she's gone and, even though I hate to say it, it's for the best. She messed you up so badly. She made you so insecure that you can't forgive yourself for things that you're not even supposed to feel guilty for in the first place, love!" she steps closer to you and gently grabs your face to make you look up at her, both of her thumbs softly coming down on your cheeks to wipe away a few tears as she gives you a gentle smile, "Not being able to have kids? It doesn't make you a failure and it sure as shit doesn't make you less of a freaking woman. There's lots of women who never have kids either because they don't want to or because their body is not able to and guess what? Both these scenarios are perfectly valid and okay. I'm so sorry that you have to go through yet another hardship, it's unfair, God, I know, baby girl, I know, but you'll get through it, like you always do." she kisses your forehead and brings you into her arms, hugging you tightly, "I'm so sorry, my darling, I really am. I know it's unfair but, you'll see, some day, you'll finally get the life that you deserve so damn much and you'll be so happy none of this will matter."

"Promise?" you whisper into the crook on her neck, her smell making you feel at home.

"Promise." she lets a small moment go by and softly ask, "Did you want kids, darling? Is that why you're so hurt?"

"I-" you get out of her embrace and look at her, "I never- I never really thought about it, y'know? I just-" a forced laugh slips past your lips as your head drops down to look at the glass shatters covering the floor, "I always thought that- That I was too young to even think about it but- Yeah, I guess- I guess it doesn't matter anymore." you look up and force a smile which Luna is quick to wipe away as she brings you back into her arms and you let yourself cry, cuddled up against her.

"Life is a bitch but karma is way worse, darling, you'll see." she softly says with a small smile, making you smile a little as well, "One day, you'll be happy as can be, no matter what, it'll happen, I know it will. You'll have your turn and if life doesn't want to hand it to you, you'll fucking go and make your own kind of happiness, love."

"I love you." you whisper against her skin.

"I love you too, [y/n], so much. You deserve so much better than what life has been given you, honey. Promise me you won't let anything nor anyone hurt you like this anymore."

"Cross my heart and hope to die." you whisper softly, closing your eyes and waiting for your heartbeat to slow back down.


*Hi, yes, uh, this is your hardcore feminist author and I'm here to remind you that; no, you weren't "made" for no man. You're yours and that's forever, gurl. This is important, please, always remember that. You don't dress for boys, you don't wear make up for them and you sure as shit weren't made for nor to please them.

Chapter Text

All it took was a small second of inattention from Negan for you to run off when he ordered for everyone to stop to go and spend the night in one of the Saviors' safe-zones, the sun setting way too quickly for you to reach the Sanctuary before complete darkness.

You don't know why you ran off -again-, it just happened. Everyone was getting out of their trucks, heading to the small yet well protected place Negan decided you'll spend the night in and you were about to head inside as well but you couldn't bring yourself to get out of the vehicle you were in.

Eventually, you took a sharp intake of breath, unbuckled your seat-belt and jumped out of the big truck, looking around, you immediately spotted Randall leaning against a concrete wall, Negan right in front of him as they talked about what you assumed to be what happened to Connor just a two hours ago.

Just looking at Randall made your heart ache, you felt like shit about the whole situation. You dropped your head down, a single tear escaped your eyes only to meet the concrete covered ground beneath your feet.

Your hands came into your sight and you let a gasp out as you finally realized that both of your hands were completely covered in Connor's blood. Your whole body started to shake out of control again, Connor's voice ringing through your ears, the sound of his flesh being ripped from his neck invading your mind and the whole scene started to play over and over again right in front of you, leaving you a mess.

How the hell are you supposed to live with that? You were right there yet you failed to protect your friend and it cost him his life. You had to witness it because you couldn't prevent it from happening, you killed him. You've put him down and now that you think about it, maybe, just maybe, Randall may actually have wanted to be the one to do so, Connor was his best friend after all and he didn't even get to say goodbye.

i'm so selfish, what was i even trying to prove...

You were out of everyone's sight as you're standing behind Simon's giant truck, no one could see you and it was your one chance to take Negan out of your life and go back to being your very own person, not someone's toy, not someone's "employee", not his "doll". You could go back to being yours and only yours, that's all you're asking for, that's all you really wanted; your freedom.

And so that's what you did, you went for it and simply walked away to get lost into the thick woods on the side of the road. You know one of Negan's man saw you as you heard him whistle and call his boss quickly after you just stepped into the forest and you're pretty damn sure that you've heard Negan calling out for you and you couldn't help but to hear the smirk in his voice.

cocky prick...





Looking down at your watch,it reads 2:00 AM. You sigh and sink further against the hollow trunk behind your back, a shiver running down your spine as the cold of the night starts to really get to you.

You've been running for eight hours now, you're exhausted, hungry and thirsty but you take comfort in the fact that you actually got away from him. Sure there's still a chance for him to actually find you pretty damn quick as he has something you don't; vehicles and a whole goddamn group of armed people, but it doesn't discourage you. You're strong, strong enough that you don't need a gun nor to always be afraid of every little sound you hear.

You thank your lucky star when you recall keeping the warm, fuzzy, blanket Jesus gave you when you left Hilltop inside of your backpack. You quickly reach for your denim bag and clumsily take the black duvet out to wrap yourself up in it, sighing in comfort when the soft fabric makes contact with your bare arms.

you should have stole a damn jacket girl, seriously, you're wearing a freaking t-shirt right now, it's cold as balls out here.

"Yeah, a jacket would be nice right now." you whisper to yourself, your jaw starting to snap.

If you could, you would so bury your face underneath your blanket and let yourself sleep for the next ten years but you know that you can't, not when you're out here, on the ground, vulnerable and easy for walkers and people to reach. You're too tired to climb on a tree, you thought about it, hell, it's the first thing you tried to do when you decided that you were far enough from Negan and his men but your body didn't seem to agree with you on that one and you couldn't even manage to lift yourself up above the ground.

You hear leafs cracking and carefully reach for your butterfly knife, which you may have sneaked into Negan's truck to get back earlier today, and get a tight and sturdy hold it before getting up off the ground, letting your blanket fall off of your shoulders, your body shivering at the loss of warmth.

You try and listen for any kind of heavy breathing or groans to try and identify the source of the noise as a simple walker roaming around but you don't hear anything like that, you only hear leafs cracking and branches snapping beneath someone or something's weight.

You squint your eyes, trying to examine the area surrounding you but it's so dark that you can't see a damn thing at least until a small light pierces through the trees, making you shake slightly, afraid that it might actually be Negan or one of his men out looking for you.

You quickly turn around, pick up your blanket and shove it back inside your backpack before putting clumsily putting it back on your shoulders. But, as you turn back around to look back at the light and to check if it got any closer, a squeal escapes your mouth as you make direct contact with someone's chest and you immediately try to take a step back but an oddly gentle grip on your right forearm keeps you from doing so.

"Let go!"

"Hey, hey, hey, it's me! [Y/n], it's me, it's Jesus."

You look up with teary eyes, your chest quickly going up and down, to find Jesus' soft and reassuring smile, his facial expression showing worry and relief, "J-Jesus?"

"Yes, my child?" he responds with a small smile, clearly proud of his own joke and trying to hold back his laughter until he hears you giggle as you gently shove into his chest. A few tears roll down your face and you quickly curl yourself up against his chest, "S'good to see you too, kiddo." he gently says, kissing the top of your head.

You two stay like that for a few minutes before you reluctantly let of of him to look up at his face. You can see his smile in the light of his flashlight and you immediately feel safe even though you're still out in the middle of a forest, in plain sight and the cold of the night is cutting into your skin.

"Paul, I-"

"We'll talk tomorrow, yeah? Right now, we need to get you warmed up and you need to get some sleep."

"H-how did you- How-"

"How did I find you?" he asks with a small smile, you nod your head yes, "Sweetheart, you're, like, five minutes away from Hilltop. I saw movements in the woods and I wanted to check it out, figured it might be you."

five minutes away from... hilltop? damn, how did you not realize?

"Let's go, yeah? No offense, but, it's seriously cold out here."

You nod your head again and take his hand, following him as he leads you out of the woods for you two to end up right in front of Hilltop's gates. He asks the men guarding the gates to let you two in and he leads you inside, the gates closing behind you.

He silently walks you to one of those temporary installations that you assume they use as small houses now, like the one doctor Carson uses and works in or the one you always end up in whenever you come around.

He open the door and lets you in first, stepping in after you and closing the door behind him, leaning against it, watching you as you curiously look around the small room, a smile on his face.

"You ran off again, [y/n]." he says more stating a fact than asking a question but you still nod your head yes.

You shyly walk over to the bed sitting on a left corner of the room, sitting down on it and looking down at your bloody hands, tears starting to fill your eyes again."I, uh- C-Connor- Connor i-is- He- he's gone."

He lets out a small sigh and you hear him walking towards you. He pulls a chair from the small dinning table in the middle of the small room and drags it directly in front of you, sitting down on it before carefully taking your shaking hands in his.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're blaming yourself again, [y/n]?"

"I-I fr-froze, I-" you let out a shaky breath, "I saw it a-and I- I got scared, I p-panicked and he- he died be-because of it."

You keep your head down as you speak to Jesus, you're exhausted and you don't think you've ever felt so bad about yourself in your entire life... Or maybe you have, you don't really give a shit at the moment, all you know is that; you feel like utter crap.

"That's not how things work, [y/n]." he gently lift your head up with his left hand, making you look up at him, "And you know that, you're a really smart girl, I know you know." he leans forward and kisses your forehead, "Now, you go take a shower if you want, crawl under these blankets, get a good night sleep and, if you want, we'll talk tomorrow, deal?"

"O-okay." you get off of the bed and kiss his cheek, "Thank you, Jesus."

"You're always welcome here, you know that." he gives you a genuine smile and teasingly pinches your cheek, making you giggle, "Now go get some sleep, I'll see you tomorrow. You're safe here, I promise."

"I know." you softly say with a small yet sincere smile.

"Oh, and, don't hesitate to lock the door if it can make you feel safer." he says as he walks towards said door, "Plus, it's kind of a way to tell Harlan to go away when he comes to wake you up with one of his weird songs." he adds with a small chuckle, making you laugh along, "Goodnight, [y/n]."

"Goodnight, Paul."

He flashes you one last smile and gets out of the room, leaving you to yourself. You're not sure how to describe what you're feeling right now but you do know that it's positive, you feel safe and it's such a welcome change for you.

You take your watch off and gently put it down on the nightstand next to the bed you'll be sleeping in tonight before running to the bathroom, craving a warm shower more than anything else at the moment because, believe it or not, having Connor's blood on your skin and clothes is not making things any easier for you right now.

weird, uh?


2:50 AM //

After a few minutes of intense showering, slightly crying as the blood on your skin felt as if it was here to stay, you finally get out, dry your body and your hair before slipping into a really fluffy black hoodie with a fuzzy white fabric on the inside that was waiting for you inside the small dresser beside a tall mirror in the bedroom. You decided not to wear anything but your panties tonight and, yes, it's such a small little detail but it makes you happy because it's been a long, long, while since you've felt comfortable enough in a place to be able to let yourself sleep in your underwear like you grew up doing.

You blush as a high pitched squeal comes out of your mouth when you stretch out of fatigue, a giggle making its way past your lips afterwards and make your way over to the bed to crawl underneath the thick and seriously warm blanket waiting for you there, a purr escaping you as your back hits the most comfortable mattress you've ever been on. Or, at least, close second. Negan's definitely the one on top of the list.

You turn the small light on the nightstand off and turn to your side, looking out the window on the wall in front of you, there's a few small fire outside to give the people guarding the place some light, the flames appease you and, soon enough, a small yawn gets past your lips, your eyes flutter shut as they get heavy with sleep but Negan's cocky tone as he was calling out for you when you ran off is taunting you and you have to force your eyes to stay close through the frustrating thoughts of him.

It's like it became a game to him, letting you run around just to get a hold of you again, to hurt you and make you more vulnerable than you previously were. Well, if it's a game to him it isn't for you, this whole situation is hurting you, he's hurting you, he's destroying the things you've had the hardest times to rebuilt after everything you've been through and it's unfair.

People always say that you can't repair a broken mirror without cutting yourself or without ending up with missing pieces, well, you did get cut, a whole freaking lot, and you've never got back some of your most important missing pieces so, the question is; why should Negan get to destroy that? Who the hell is he to even criticize it? Who is he to judge you or to tell you who you truly are?

You can't deny that the day he made you kill that man, it's like he stepped all over you and broke the mirror all over again, making the pieces even smaller and fragile this time around. And now- Now you can't even seem to be able to find any of them anymore, you can't find your missing pieces, he stole you from yourself.

You're not sure of anything anymore, hell, you never were the most confident person about your decisions or your appearance before, but now? Now it's all tangled up and you've never felt so damn vulnerable. Your mind hurts and it's the worst kind of pain there is to you, you'll trade it for the most intense physical pain there is if you could, without hesitation.

With those heavy thoughts, you end falling heavily asleep, your head aching and you know tomorrow morning will be tough.




10:00 AM //

Your eyes gently flutter open, a small yawn getting pushing past your lips and you hear a deep chuckle echoing in the room, making you jump and sit straight up on the mattress you've been sleeping on, your eyes widening when you spot Negan sitting down on a chair around the wooden dinning table a few feet away from the bed you've spend the night in.


"You're one hell of an heavy sleeper when you're tired, baby girl." he says with a chuckle, clearly amused by your confusion.

how the hell did he get here? what the fuck! are we seriously doing this again? this is seriously getting ooooold.

You shyly bring your legs up against your chest underneath the blankets covering your body as you're suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you're not wearing a bra and that the only thing covering your lower body underneath that blanket is a pair of freaking Batman panties.

You look at the table he's seated at and you spot a box of cereals, bowls, two spoons, glasses and what you assume to be orange juice and milk.

is he seriously waiting for you to get up and have breakfast with him? is he fucking serious right now?

"You hungry, baby girl?" he asks and you quickly shake your head no but your stomach betrays you and lets out an embarrassingly loud growl, making Negan laugh and making you blush furiously, "See, that, that right there is your stomach telling you to fuck off with your lil' lies, dolly."

good god, shut the fuck up already, seriously...

You hear him getting up and your head immediately snaps up, your body curling up and pushing itself further into the bed, trying to create as much distance as possible between him and you.

He ignores your silent protest and roughly snatches the blanket covering your body away from you making you whimper in protest as you push your legs further into your chest, now completely exposed to him, a dark, crimson red creeping on your cheeks.

"Up and fucking at 'em, baby girl." he extends his hand out to you but you're too focused on watching his eyes which are glued to the back your fleshy thighs and the outline of your butt.

He sighs when he realizes that you still haven't moved and he grabs your forearm, dragging you out of your bed, his chest keeping you from falling face first when your feet clumsily hit the floor, "Hey there, pretty baby." between his low voice and the smirk on his lips, you're almost certain that there's smoke coming out of your cheeks from all the blushing you've got going on.

"H-hi, Ne-Negan."

He lets out yet another chuckle before taking your hand and walking you to the table where breakfast is waiting for you and you can't help but compare his touch to Jesus'. It's just so different, Paul is full of good attentions and it shows in his gestures but, Negan? You never know with this man, he can be sweet and carrying then, in a blink of an eye, turn into the worst person you'll ever come across and it scares you just how much as it intrigues you.

curiosity kills the cat, uh?

He sits you down on the chair and walks to the opposite side of the table, sitting right in front of you making you highly uncomfortable, this is way too intimate for your liking, you fucking hate it actually.

please ground, swallow me already for fuck's sake....

"C-can we- Can we o-open the window, p-please?" you ask, pulling at your fingers. You just want the noises from outside to help and break the awkward tension you're feeling right now.

"Nah, doll, you're gonna have to get used to this anyway."

yeah sure- wait, what d'he say?


"From now on, you'll take ever single damn meal with me so that I can make sure that you fucking eat and, on the plus side, it'll give us a chance to spend some quality time together."  he states with the same damn cocky smirk on his lips, making you want to jump on him from across the table to stab him with your spoon and make him choke on milk, but his tone leaves no room for arguing.

please define quality time 'cause i highly fucking doubt that we have the same damn definition for it...

He drags a bowl right in front of you and pours some cereals in it before pouring milk on them, well, at least he's about to but you spot him by shoving your bowl of cereals away, making him sigh and glare at you.

"I-I'm not hungry, t-thanks t-though."

"Sure you're not." he says, his voice clearly showing some anger by now as he drags the bowl filled with cereals right in front of you again and pours milk on them before shoving a spoon in it, "Eat." he orders harshly making a single tear roll down your face.

"I'm no-not- I can't-" you can't complete your sentence as a sob rips through you and you immediately hide your face inside your arms on the table, your body shaking along with your sobs, Negan watching you break down again, absently scratching his beard.

You flinch when you feel his hands on your waist as he lifts you up and brings you against his chest, your legs automatically snaking around his waist.

"Shh, hey, relax, baby. M'sorry I raised my damn voice, didn't mean to make you cry." he coos in your ear, slightly rocking you in his arms and you feel oddly safe against him.

"I just- I-." you yet again fail to complete your thought but he doesn't seem to mind.

You feel him moving the two of you around and you end up sitting on his thighs as he sits down at the table again, dragging your bowl of cereals to him and getting a spoon full before bringing it up to your mouth and you know better than to argue when you look at him and looks right back at you. You slightly open your mouth and let him feed you, your stomach growling in content as its finally being fed properly for the first time in months.

This moment is oddly relaxing, he makes conversation with you, avoiding touchy subjects and mainly making awful jokes to then make fun of you when you choke on your food as he makes you laugh.

When the bowl is half empty, he lets you go as he can clearly tell that you've had enough and he doesn't want to push you any further, he's just glad that you ate at least the strict minimum. He always wonders how you've made it this far with how hard of a time you're having to simply feed yourself, the most common of things is a challenge to you yet he's seen you do way harder things.

You clumsily get off of his laps, making him laugh and groan as you press yourself right on his cock when you do and you quickly stop moving when you hear him groan, afraid that you might have hurt him but he quickly lifts up and gently puts you back down on the ground, teasingly squeezing one of your butt cheeks, making you blush as a whimper involuntarily escapes past your lips.

You get away from him and start walking towards the small dresser in the room to finally put some pants on but Negan tsks disapprovingly as he sips some orange juice, eyeing you from his chair at the table. You turn back around and look at him, confused as to what you're doing wrong.

"Don't." he finishes his glass of orange juice and gets up, "You'll put your pants on when I'll be done with you, not a single second before, doll. Here," he nods towards your messy bed, "take a sit, we need to talk."

yay, here's the; why the fuck did you run away again, speech, as if he doesn't fucking know.

You silently sit down at the top of the bed, crossing your legs and pulling your hoodie to bring it down to your knees to cover your bare thighs. Following you, Negan takes a seat on the chair next to your bed, facing you, the same one Jesus sat sitting in last night.

"You can't keep run away from me, [y/n]. I don't know about you but I'm seriously gettin' bored of this lil' stupid fucking game we keep playin'."

why does everything you do always has to be a game to him? fuck you buddy.

You don't say anything, knowing damn well that you'll snap if you open your mouth, hell, you might even end up slapping his face off again.

"What happened to Conny boy is a damn shame but fucking hell, doll-"

"Don't." you cut him with a strict voice you didn't know you had, "Don't talk about him, don't mention him, don't say his name just leave him alone, Negan. Leave me alone."

"See, the damn thing with you, baby girl, is that you don't seem to fucking understand that I'm in charge here."

"You're not in charge of shit when it comes to me, Negan." you can feel anger running through your veins, his attitude pushing you over the edge once again as you get up from the bed and start passing around the room under his heavy stare, "That's why you always find new ways to make my life a living hell, isn't it?" you stop your pacing and look at him with glossy eyes, "Because you know damn well that you can't control me and order me around and you hate that, don't you? You hate not being in control, you hate the fact that there's still someone on this damned Earth that doesn't seem to break whenever you walk into a room, don't you? You fucking hate me, I'm just a stupid challenge for you, aren't I? And I'm right to say that you don't give a damn about me, aren't I?"

"Don't you fucking da-" he started, angry at the fact that you seriously think that he doesn't give a shit about you.

"You hate the fact that I refuse to be another one of your brainless whores! Oh my God!" you let out a tired and angry laugh, "I hate you, Negan. In fact, I think I hate you just as much as you hate me." you finish, swallow the tears threatening the spill out of your eyes, not wanting to cry in front of him again.

He gets up off his chair and walks towards you with a deep frown, anger filling his eyes. He keeps walking until he has you crushed between a wall and his body, his breath hitting your parted lips.

"Here's what's gonna fucking happen now, baby. I'm gonna blame your lil' melt down on what happened yesterday and I'm gonna let it slide." he narrows his eyes at you and you hate to admit it but you feel ridiculously small under his stare, "One fucking day. I'm gonna give a whole goddamn day all to yourself, you're staying here for another night if you fucking want but tomorrow, when I come back for you, your ass better but right here, waiting for me like a good girl and you better not have another fucking crap attack, we fucking clear, lil' one?"

You try to answer him but your mouth just keeps on opening and closing without a single word and you're pretty sure that you must look like a fish out of water right now but Negan doesn't seem to pay attention to that at the moment, he's more interested in getting an answer out of you.

"[Y/n], we clear?" he asks one more time.

"C-crystal cl-clear." you say quietly, slightly nodding your head yes whilst looking down at his boots and the socks covering your feet.

You feel his nose bumping into yours and you lift your eyes up to meet his, curious to see if his expression softened a little and it did, not at whole lot, but it definitely did.

His forehead ends up against yours and his lips are resting on yours, not kissing you just yet but it's so close it makes you want to cry. You don't understand him sometimes, well, most of the time, really. He looked like he was about to crush you in the palm of his hand a few seconds ago and now he's back to being gentle and it's confusing the hell out of you but you're in too deep to even question it at this point.

this back and forth is seriously energy draining, it's unfair 'cause we both know that he doesn't feel half the shit we feel...

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me someday, baby doll."

let's hope so.

Your left hand shyly comes down on his chest, clinging tot his white t-shirt to bring him and little closer to you and he looks down at your small hand before looking back up at him, your needy gesture making him smirk. He takes a long look at you, silently asking for your permission to kiss you and you give him by grabbing the back of his neck and pushing his lips against yours, a needy noise slipping past your lips as your lips finally make contact.

You almost forgot how much you crave this man, no matter how badly he hurts you, no matter how insane he makes you, no matter how much you hate him and his cocky attitude, it seems like nothing he ever says or does is ever bad enough to cure you.

"You should embrace 'em, baby girl." he suddenly says, briefly breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against yours but keeping his lips right on top yours as he speaks, "You should embrace those two fucking lil' horns you've got beneath that lil' halo of yours, they suit you pretty damn well if you ask me." he finishes with a cocky grin and immediately goes back to kissing the breath out of your lungs, pushing his tongue past your slightly parted and swollen lips, making you whimper, your grip on his shirt tightening in a needy gesture.

horns, uh? pretty sure they weren't there before we met him, just sayin'.

He possessively grabs your thighs and lifts you up for your legs to snake around his waist, immediately using the position you two are in to press his crotch into yours, making you jump and whimper into his mouth, your small hands roughly grabbing the back of his neck as you let all the frustration he's created out on him and he chuckles darkly into your mouth, clearly aware that you're beyond angry and frustrated because of him.

"Aw, my lil' kitten's getting her claws out, uh?"

"I hate you, Negan." you say, out of breath, your cheeks a dark red and your lips swollen because of his rough kisses.

"Damn right you fucking do, sweetheart." he spits back, a cocky smirk drawn on his lips.

He roughly brings his lips back down on yours for yet another heated kiss, his hands starting to wander down your body, squeezing here and there, making you squeal against his lips and bite down on his bottom lip to pull at it greedily, making him grunt.

He finally moves you off of the wall and brings you down on the messy bed you've slept on, hovering over you, his lips never leaving yours as he does and the kiss only gets deeper and needier.

Your hands shyly slip underneath his t-shirt and you can feel him shivering at your touch, it's the first time you actually take the time to explore his body so you try to memorize every little detail your hands come across. You're actually surprise at how toned his stomach is, you can feel his muscles moving along with him as he keeps on kissing you. The envy to see him shirtless is almost overwhelming for you as you keep on touching his upper body.

But, just as his lips make contact with the skin of your throat, a loud banging on the door makes you jump and makes him grunt in frustration.

"Boss, we're all done and ready to go." Simon says behind the door, never opening it, knowing damn well he can't come in without Negan's authorization.

"Fuckin' hell." he groans into your neck, sending a shivers down your spine, "Get your asses to the trucks, I'll be right fucking there." he barks for Simon to hear and you can only hear a quiet "alright, boss." afterwards.

Negan's head pops up right in front of yours, a smile on his lips as he examines your red cheeks and your puffy lips, he lets out a deep chuckle.

"Listen doll, you can either stay here 'til tomorrow or, well shit, you could always come back home with me right now and we fucking finish this." he says, gesture between your bodies with a tilt of his head.

"I- I wanna s-stay here, pl-please?"

"Alright." he lets out a sigh, "Shit, alright, baby." he gets off of you, careful not to crush you with his weight in the process and stands back up in front of the bed as you slowly sit back up on the mattress, embarrassed at how far you've let this kiss go.

You watch as he swiftly grabs his leather jacket that he'd thrown on the small couch in the room before putting it on effortlessly and grabbing Lucille which is waiting for him right next to the door leading out of the room.

Your mind is invaded by the thought of him going back to the Sanctuary and running to one of his "wives" to help him get rid of his "frustration" and it makes your blood boil and your heart hurt like hell. You can't help the small sob that escapes your lips and it immediately catches Negan's attention.

He quickly turns around and walks back to you as you're still sitting on your bed, tears rolling down your cheeks at an alarming rate.

"Hey, shit, baby girl, what's goin' on with you?" he asks, worried that he might have taken a simple kiss too far and hurt you without realizing it.

"I- I c-can't tell you." you say, your head dropping down as your hands nervously pull at the blankets beneath you but he's not having it, his right hand brings your head back up to force you to look at him.

"[Y/n], princess, spit it out." he says with a small smile, understanding what's actually bothering and upsetting you so much, of course he knows and he gets off on it, he shouldn't be he can't help it. He fucking loves the though of you being possessive of him almost as much as he is of you, hell, if only you knew just how jealous he gets when another man gets too close to you for his liking.

"Forget it, Negan." you start, trying to show some confidence but you don't have any in stock at the moment so you have to fake it and, god, you're a bad liar, "J-just go back to your precious harem and forget about me, I'm sick of this shit."

Your false confidence might be a lie but your pain is way real. You wish that you could actually trust him instead of being too well aware of the fact that he's not the type to commit and that swiping you out of his life will be way too easy for him to do while you'll never be able to shake him the fuck off.

It makes you sick to even think about him with someone else and you hate what it means, you hate what your jealousy shows, you hate the way you feel about him, you hate the fact that there's not a damn thing you can do about it and that he'll never change a damn thing because he likes his lifestyle way too fucking much to look past his own bellybutton.

"Hey, baby." he brings your head back up for you to look at him and, once he's sure that you won't look away, he extends his pinkie finger to you, "I'll keep my blue balls to myself," he starts, making you blush furiously as you recall awkwardly asking Jesus what the hell that meant and the answer kind of embarrassed you, "and, as a reward for being a real fucking gentleman, you let me make you a proper dinner and you'll spend the rest of the night with me, whatever the fuck you want it to mean, princess, I ain't gonna force you into anything, I don't do that kind of shit." he finishes more seriously, his pinkie waiting for yours to seal the deal but, instead, you let a small giggle out, happy about his approach on the situation, and grab the back of his neck to bring his lips back down on yours, making him smile against your lips. "That's a real fuckin' good way to seal a deal, baby doll, but you still gotta pinkie swear otherwise it ain't official." you blush and wrap your much smaller pinkie finger around his and he brings your face back to his to kiss you one more time.

"Thank you." you say barely above a whisper against his lips.

"Remember what I said about taking it step by step, doll? It didn't mean that I changed my fucking mind about you and what I want you to be. I'm an asshole that's for fucking sure, no questions asked here, but I honestly don't feel like fucking around with your lil' heart any more than people already fucking have, just so we're clear." another bang on the room's door interrupts you once again and Negan lets out a frustrated laugh, "Alright, baby girl, daddy's gotta go beat some fucking idiot's ass but you better believe that I'll be back for you first thing tomorrow morning."

"Y-yeah, alright."

"I don't fucking know what the hell you're doin' to me or why the fuck I'm feeling the way I do about you, princess, but- Fucking hell, one thing I do know? I don't fucking want you out of my fucking sight and I sure as shit don't want to fucking see you with another man- Y'know what? Scratch that, I don't ever want to see you with anyone else. Hell, I'm pretty sure it'll get ugly really fucking quick if that ever happened, angel face." he kisses your forehead and swings Lucille on his shoulder, winking at you before making his way to the door only to stop dead in his tracks and turn back around to look at you, chuckling when he sees the confusion on your face, "Oh, and, by the way, princess.-" he pauses and points at your butterfly knife resting on top of a pile of your clothes and you blush furiously when you remember than you're not supposed to have it, he does, "We'll have a talk about that when you'll get home but that shit easily warrants for a dozen spanks in my book, baby girl." he nonchalant says though you know to read the warning in his voice before walking out of the room, whistling the same soft song he always seems to whistle

Looking at your window, you watch him walk out through the open gates of the small village, flashing his middle finger at who you assume might be Gregory, the supposed leader of the community but Jesus says that he's the biggest coward there is.

You can't help but smile at the moment you've just shared with Negan, sure it got rocky there at the time and you can feel the odd pressure that his last words created in your belly but, talk of future punishment aside, this had to be one of the rare times you two actually managed to speak to each other without ending up almost killing one another and it actually resulted in... a date? Did Negan seriously give you a freaking date? This is so weird but you try not to think about it, your anxiety already doing a great job trying to ruin the way you feel with a ton of what-ifs and "he's playing you - again!".

You're starting to know Negan by now and the way he spoke to you just a few seconds ago is far from the Negan you're used to but he seemed truly genuine and that makes you anxious for some reason, you don't want to get hurt again yet you wish that you could just let yourself enjoy the fuzzy feeling you're feeling right now.

Luckily, a soft knock on your door snaps you out of your thoughts and you don't even have time to give whoever knocked permission to come in when they're already bursting in your room.

ugh, great...

"Hello, darling. I'm Gregory, I'm running things around here and since Negan told me that you'll be staying with us until tomorrow, here's some rules for you-"

"Damn it, Gregory-"a clearly pissed Jesus bursts into the room shortly after the older man but he stops his sentence when he sees that you're not even properly dressed, "The girl's not even dressed yet, Gregory, what the hell! Get out." he pushes the old man out and apologize to you, clearly embarrassed before leaving you to get dressed.

well, that was weird and awkward... also, definitely do not appreciate the way this old dude called us darling, it's creepy as all shit.





12:30 PM //

You've spend the rest of your evening working at the garden with some really sweet people from the community and you have to admit that it was really nice to be able to interact with genuinely good people, people who care about each other's well being and comfort, you completely forgot what that felt like; being cared for.

Earlier this morning, Jesus asked you if you'd like to take your meal with him and, of course, you happily accepted.

You've just finished washing your hands in the common bathroom in Gregory's mansion, 'cause, yes, apparently the big ass mansion sitting in the middle of the village "belongs" to him.

no wonders the guy doesn't get along with negan, seriously.

You walk out of the huge mansion and immediately spot Jesus waiting for you, sitting at a picnic table right beside your "house". You wave at him from the staircase and quickly make your way to him but a firm grip on your wrist keeps you from doing so. You turn around to identify whoever the fuck is holding you back and you let out a sigh when you see Gregory standing right behind you, a lighted cigar in his mouth.

fucking shit, dude...

"I believe we got off on the wrong foot you and I, darling." he nonchalantly says, not letting you go of your wrist, whilst taking a long drag out of his cigar, blowing the toxic smoke right in your face, making you cough, "Oh, I take it you don't smoke, darling. Good, women shouldn't smoke, you see, I believe-"

oh no you fucking don't.

"Oh my fucking God, shut the fuck up already! And let go of me, old man." you harshly pull your wrist out of his grip and make your way to Jesus, a grimace on your face as the smell of the cigar sticks to your skin.

You spot a smile on Jesus' face as you get closer to him and it make you giggle a small bit. You sit down in front of him and cross your arms on your chest, "Go ahead, you butthole, laugh."

"I'm sorry, [y/n]. I just can't-" he stops and finally lets go of the laughter he's been holding, "It's just- His fucking face, good God, karma is good."

You laugh along with him and after a while you both start to eat your meal in a comfortable silence, breaking it from time to time to talk about your morning.

That's all you really needed, a friend to talk to, a place to relax, a small moment to forget about everything.

"So, you wanna talk about it, sweetheart?" he gently asks, referring to Connor and what happened yesterday.

"W-where do I start?"

"Well, the beginning is always good." he says with a small smile, making you laugh softly, "Seriously though, I don't know. Begin wherever you want to begin, [y/n]. I have all the time in the world, I'm not going anywhere and this conversation stays between the two of us, promise."

"Alright- Shoot, okay... Alright." and so you start telling him, you tell him everything that weights heavy on your mind, not only what happened yesterday, you tell him about your past, about your parents, you tell him about Negan, you tell him everything you need to get out of your system and goddamn does it feel good. You don't feel judged and you're actually not being judged, he simply listens and embraces everything you give him.





4:00 PM//

It's just you and Paul in the completely empty and trashed streets, he somehow got you to come along in one of his supply run and, needless to say, after what happened yesterday you weren't really all that hot for it but he promised you that it'll only be the two of you and you know that he can handle himself out there so it reassured you a small bit.

Your knuckles are white as you're holding your bow with a firm hand, afraid to have a repeat of yesterday no matter how hard Jesus tries to comfort you and even though your little supply run have been nothing but a complete success so far, you both found a bunch of medical supplies, food, water, clothes and a bunch of other things, you even took a bunch of walkers out all by yourself.

"One of my closest friend died at the hands of Negan." he confesses out of nowhere, making your head snap up to look at him as you both keep on walking, "When he found us, he didn't mean us any harm, at least I don't think he was planning on killing one of us but I-" he pauses and looks down at you, stopping in his track, making you stop as well, "But I decided that we should fight back, people kept on telling me that it'll only get our people killed, that we weren't big enough of a number to fight against the Saviors but I guess I was completely blinded by anger, y'know? And I tried to play it smart when really all I was doing was digging my friend's grave."

"Wh-what d'you do?"

"Does it really matter? He died because of it, Negan said that the only reason why he didn't kill me is because he wanted me to stick around so that he could make my life a living hell. And, shit, believe it or not, it's not half as bad as I thought it'll be."

"Wh-why are you telling me that for, Jesus?"

"I did something stupid because I was angry and someone else took the blow for me but I had to learn to forgive myself for that, [y/n]. Connor? He didn't die because you were being stupid or reckless, he died because you're a human being and you froze when panic took over you, there's no shame in that, there's no shame in being human. You didn't mean him any harm, it just happened and you can't keep blaming yourself for things you don't even have any control over, alright? I know it takes time but I also know that you'll only get there if you let yourself walk that way."

"I'm so sorry about your fr-"

A groan interrupts you and you both turn your heads to scan the area, you're quick to spot a few walkers wandering around the streets so you swiftly take your bow out, aim at a specific walker and take your shot, the arrow straight going through its rotten skull as it falls limp on the road, finally lifeless, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as adrenaline starts to kick back into your body.

"Wanna kick some butts before we go back, [y/n]?" Jesus asks with a small smile.

"You bet." you answer with a small smirk.





7:00 AM //

A knock on your door makes you jump as you're just out of the shower, only wearing one of Negan's white t-shirt he left you yesterday and a pair of panties, you panic when you hear the door of your room opening and closing. Your heart skipping a beat when you hear an all too familiar laugh.

You shyly get out of the small bathroom to be greeted by a grinning Negan, your cheeks immediately getting set on fire when his eyes wander up and down on your body.

"Good fuckin' morning, baby girl."

"H-hi Ne-Negan, I- I uh, I'm n-not ready ju-just yet."

"Yeah, no shit, darlin'." he says with a deep chuckle, walking closer to you with a smirk, "But that's not fuckin' important, princess. Where the hell's my morning kiss?"

"I dunno, I don't think it's here today." you say with a small smile, your cheeks burning up.

"Well shit, that's too fucking bad, isn't it, baby?" he plays along as he keeps on walking up to you, slowly closing the distance between the two of you.


Negan chuckles at your wittiness and takes a final step towards you, officially closing the distance between your bodies, before leaning his forehead against yours just like he did yesterday, just like he always does when he's about to kiss the living hell out of you.

"Fucking hell, baby. I had to fucking lock myself up in my goddamn shower for a whole fucking hour because of you, I couldn't fucking get rid of the mean hard on you fuckin' gave me. I had to fucking jerk that shit off for a good thirty fucking minutes. And now you show up with my goddamn t-shirt on and, good fuckin' lord, love, are those piercings I saw through that damn shirt?"

You bit your lip, embarrassed at the fact that, in your blind panic, you completely forgot to put your bra on an he can actually see your breast through his shirt and that, as a bonus, you now have to find a way to tell him that you've had both of your nipples pieced when you were only fourteen.

"Don't bite your goddamn lip, doll. S'my fucking job." you hear him grunt, "So, are you gonna tell me or do I have to check for myself, baby girl?" he asks with a cocky smirk.

"I uh- Y-yeah, I- I have-" you look up at him and you feel like crying under his stare, "ihavemynipplespierced." you quietly mumble, way too quickly for anyone to even understand that you're speaking English right now but he understands, loud and clear.

"Fucking shit, doll, you're fucking killing me."

You don't say anything you just give him what he asked for a few minutes ago, his morning kiss, and he gladly takes it. It starts off all sweet and chaste because you're the one who initiated the kiss but he's quick to turn it into something way less innocent and way more dirty and needy. He turns a simple kiss into another one of your heavy make-out sessions but you have to force yourself to push him away as you don't want the kiss to end up at the same place it went yesterday and, at this rate, you know damn well it will, quicker than you're comfortable with.

"W-we should go home." you whisper as you pull away from his kiss, letting grunt out his disapproval.

Though he highly disapproves of the kiss ending so soon, he can't help the big grin appearing on his lips when he hears you call the Sanctuary, the place he's built, "home", "Where's home, [y/n]?" he asks with a smirk, wanting to see if he can get to get it out of you again.

wherever you are you stupid idiot...

"Don't push it." you softly say, making him chuckle against your kiss-swollen lips.

"S'that a challenge, baby girl? Sure as shit sounds like one."

"It's whatever you want it to be, Negan." you answer with your natural sass, slightly rolling your eyes before walking back into the bathroom, locking the door behind you to make sure he doesn't burst in on you putting your bra on, it's already embarrassing enough that he knows about your piercings now.

yeah, that was really fucking awkward, let's never do that again. 





9:00 AM //

The ride home was actually pretty cool, Negan made you laugh and blush more times than you can count, it felt right to finally be able to have a proper conversation with him without it ending up with the two of you spitting venom at each other's face.

But, as he kills the engine of his truck, it feels like the mood suddenly changes in a matter of a second and you hate it.

"Doll, what I said yesterday?"

he didn't mean it, of course he didn't fucking mean it, i told you you stupid bi-

"It might not be the kind of shit I usually say because I don't usually feel the way I fucking feel with you but-"he turns on his seat to look at your teary eyes, his eyebrows furrowing when he spots a tear rolling down your face, "Hey, fuckin' hell, doll, why're you crying?"

"S-sorry I just- I thought- I feel like shit 'cau-cause I thought that you-you were about to-to take it all b-back."

He lets out a small, humourless chuckle, "Well, shit, I fucked up pretty bad with you, didn't I, angel face?" he gently grabs your face when he doesn't get an answer out of you, "All I want you to know is that, yeah, I feel real fucking awkward saying all that shit but it doesn't mean that I don't fucking mean it, baby girl. I would safe myself the fucking embarrassment if I didn't mean any of that shit, trust me."

"O-okay... Okay." you whisper, nodding your head as your mind tries to take in this new information, information which is, by the way, really fucking disturbing to take in because it comes from Negan.

"Now, princess, daddy's gotta go on another supply run but I want you to stay here, get some rest or do whatever the fuck you want, really."

he actually trusts you enough to let you wander around the place without having someone ordering you around? okay, that's fucking progress right there or i don't fucking know what is.

"R-really? I mean- You're sure?"

"Just be good 'til I get back, I should be back before the end of the fucking day or in the night anyway so you just wait for daddy and behave in the meantime, you can do that, can't you baby doll?" you nod your head yes and bite down on your lip without even noticing, making Negan grunt again, "Doll, your lip."

"Sorry it's- It's nervous."

He chuckles at your flustered expression before sending you a wink, "C'mon out, sweetheart." and, at that, you both get out of his truck and before you can even close the door on your side, he's got you pinned against the warm metal of the vehicle, his lips are on yours in a second and his tongue is pushing past your lips, your hands flying to the back of his neck, "You'll be good, baby girl?" he asks as he moves on to biting down on your throat, making you whimper and shake beneath him.

"Y-Yes, I'll be good." you whine out as he bites down on your pulse point and you both get taken by surprise when your knees completely give out under you, your body clearly enjoying the sensation it's just received and Negan can't help but grunt and smirk into your skin as he laps at the fresh teeth marks he's left on your sensitive skin.

There's something completely and utterly fucked up about you enjoying getting bit, you knows that though Negan doesn't seem to give a shit about the entire context, yet you can't help the way your body is reacting to it, no matter how wrong it is.

"Dinner. Tonight." he says more as an order than an invitation or a question but you don't really care.

"O-okay, yeah."

He slowly gets away from you and you're about to walk inside the compound to go and check on Faith and Randall but you don't even take three steps away from the truck when he gets a hold of you again, "Oh, and, baby?" he gets right behind you and whispers in your ear, "If you feel like taking a nap, go ahead and go take it in my bed, s'all yours for today."

He quickly kisses the shell of your ear and gives your butt a slight smack before walking away, swinging Lucille on his shoulder, whistling with a cocky smirk on his lip and you thank the lord that no one is actually around right now because you would have died of embarrassment yet you somehow feel like it you might not have minded all that much.

What the hell is this man doing to you?

Chapter Text

P R E V I O U S L Y  / /

9:00 AM //


"Dinner. Tonight." he says more as an order than an invitation or a question but you don't really care.

"O-okay, yeah."

He slowly gets away from you and you're about to walk inside the compound to go and check on Faith and Randall but you don't even take three steps away from the truck when he gets a hold of you again, "Oh, and, baby?" he gets right behind you and whispers in your ear, "If you feel like taking a nap, go ahead and go take it in my bed, s'all yours for today."

He quickly kisses the shell of your ear and gives your butt a slight smack before walking away, swinging Lucille on his shoulder, whistling with a cocky smirk on his lip and you thank the lord that no one is actually around right now because you would have died of embarrassment yet you somehow feel like it you might not have minded all that much.

What the hell is this man doing to you?


N   O   W   / /



9:45 AM //


"What you had out there wasn't a fucking life, [y/n]!" Randall snaps once again, his voice rougher than it usually is.

You're starting to pull your hair out, you have no idea how the hell you ended up in such a heated argument with Randall yet, here you are. 

"It was to me, Randall!"

A simple "hello" and a small smile from you turned into a messy and completely unjustified fight with the ex-tattoo artist. A simple goddamn word turned into a huge freaking monster and you have absolutely no other choice but to deal with the venom he's spitting at your face, you know he needs to vent, you know he probably will apologize later on and you know that he most certainly has no fucking idea who the hell he's talking to right now so you let it happen. You let him be angry, let him scream and give him room to wiggling his arms all over the place as he goes on and on.

After what happened to Connor, you feel bad for running off without even speaking to him or, at the very least, try and make sure that he was alright. You now realize that you didn't even take the time to make time for him, him being one of, if not the, most important person in your life.

"Why are you fighting it, I don't fucking get you sometimes." he spits out, forcing your attention back to him.

"Fighting what, Randall? What exactly am I fighting?" you ask with a sigh, rubbing your temple as you try real hard to stay as calm and collected as possible but you can feel your jaw starting to clench and your head starting to throb. If there's one thing you despite it's being pushed around and yelled at when it's not justified for you to be.

"This!" he says, his hands moving all over the place, "The life we're trying to give you, [y/n]. Why would you fight safety, food and water, please, explain this shit to me 'cause I don't fucking understand it."

You look around the small "garden" you're both having an argument in the complete middle of and you don't seem to be able to find anything... Good? About this place. This garden is mostly concrete, the only reason why things are actually able to grown is because they have small cases filled with dirt and whatever else you need to harvest whatever they're growing in this place.

why wouldn't i be surprised if they were actually trying to grow guns and bullets...

"Of course you don't." you say, bringing your attention back to him again, your eyes narrowed at him, your blood boiling, "You all have everything you want and need right here at your fingertips but at what cost, uh? You're nothing but someone's toys, Randall, that's all those people in there are" you say, pointing at the compound with an accusatory finger, "toys. I'm not like you, I'm not like them and I'm not like him. I'll never be like him."

"You should." he says with a tone you've never heard from him before, "We're all Negan around here and it's exactly how shit is supposed to be, [y/n]."

is it anatomically possible for a jaw to do a flip and fall on the ground or....?

"You didn't just say that, I didn't hear that right, did I?" you say, feeling a knot forming in your stomach, "You're not Negan, Randall, what the fuck! You're talking like the other brain washed idiots in this place, what's gotten into you?" you ask, your eyes getting watery but you keep it to yourself. It feels like Randall just turned into a ball of anger and bitterness right in front of you and you hate it, absolutely hate it, because you know that he's probably drowning in it and he needs help to get his head back above the water and you'd be damned if you're gonna let him drown without putting up a fight, doesn't matter if you end up falling in the water with him.

"Yeah, right." he scoffs and looks straight into your eyes, "It's easy for you! You don't know what it's like to have him behind your back every goddamn second of the day, waiting for you to fuck up somehow, it's fucking easy for you! You don't have to worry about getting on his bad side since you're one of his whores now-" his little speech is finally interrupted by your hand harshly slapping his face.

"Don't you fucking dare, Randall!"

You feel like puking, you feel sick and you're torn between just walking away or ripping his head off. Worst is, if you're being completely honest, he's not completely wrong now, is he? You and Negan do have something, you don't know what the fuck that something is but it exists much to your dismay right now.

With his words only, Randall made you realize just how far things keep on going with this man that you're supposed to hate with every fiber of your being. After all he's done to you, all he's forced you to do... You feel guilty as all hell for feeling the way you do about him, you don't know what that feeling is but you know damn well that it's not supposed to be here, at least not for a man like Negan.

But, then again, Randall's words are not justified, you're not giving yourself to this man and you probably never will, you don't plan to, at least not with him living the way he does that's for damn sure.

"You wanna know a lil' something? My life is fucking hell because of him and you wanna know why the fuck that is? Because I'm not dropping on my knees for him, Randall, that's why! How could you say something like that? I'm so sick of your shit, you really think- You actually believe that- That I would- I can't believe you." you finish, disappointed and hurt by someone you never really thought could behave like that with you.

You turn around, leaving him to himself as he officially gave you murderous thoughts with his awful attitude and you don't want to say or do something you know you'll regret, like slapping him, you already regret that, you regretted it the second your skin made contact with his if you're being honest.

"He's gone- He- He's gone and it fucking hurts, [y/n]." you hear Randall breath ou barely above a whisper but you can clearly detect sorrow and sadness in his voice.

is he crying? god, no, please don't cry.

Your anger quickly fades and is replaced by sheer sadness, your eyes slowly but surely filling with tears again and you turn back around to look back at him only to find that he's looking straight back at you, tears rolling down his face, his eyes shinning because of the salty tears drowning them and his face only shows pure exhaustion and sorrow.

well, shit, i one hundred percent fucking hate to see him cry... glad we had that conversation... let's never do that again.

"Randall, I- I'm so sorry, I know you miss him, hell, I miss this goof too." you softly coo, still unsure if you should be speaking to him again after the outburst he just had but you can't stand to see him like this and if it means coming back while the plate is still burning hot then so be it, wouldn't be the first time you get burn anyway.

"It's just- Fuck, it's just that I really thought that this kind of shit wouldn't happen to me anymore, y'know? I thought that I wouldn't lose anyone like this anymore." he looks around the place again, he looks completely lost, as if he's not supposed to be here, "Being behind these walls for so long you just- You forget what it's like to lose someone you love because that shit doesn't really happen when you have a safe place to stay, y'know?"

"Yeah- Yeah, I guess I do." you get closer to him until you're standing right in front of him and your hands gently come down on his face to frame it, his eyes closing and a sigh leaving his mouth as he leans into your touch, making your heart purr and your mind forget about your angry exchange.

You're not sure if you actually truly know what he's feeling right now because, no matter what, you've always been one to keep to yourself and to be prepared for the worst to happen to the people you care about, no matter how many walls there is around you, "protecting" you and the people you potentially could grow attached to.

"Of course you fucking do, sweet pea... Fuck, I was being such a fucking dick. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean any of what I said, it's just that- I dunno- shit." he gives up and let his forehead fall against yours, his breath hitting your lips and you shut your eyes, enjoying his closeness.

"It's okay, you don't have to apologize, really. I'm sorry for slapping you, I shouldn't have."

even though he kinda deserved it 'cause he went way too fucking far.

"No, no, I deserved it, it's just- Damn, you were here and- and I guess I needed to let some steam out and I- I took it all out on you for no goddamn reason, fucking hell, I'm such a-"

"It's cool, we're cool, just don't pull that crap again, Chicago boy." you cut off his rambling with a small smile and you feel such a relief when he looks up at you with a genuine smile plastered on his face.

"Admit it, you were two minutes away from stabbing me in the face, weren't you?"

"Such violence, why must- Yeah, I definitely was."

You both let out a small laugh and you feel lighter even though your mind is still racing after what he said to you. Anger or not, he hit a really freaking sensitive spot when he mentioned Negan and now you feel completely lost and seriously guilty for the things you feel for this man.

This is seriously so disorienting to you, it just plain sucks. You didn't need this crap, you already have a bunch of shit going through your mind and now you have another one to add to the family and, oh boy, is it an heavy and unwelcome one.

You already knew that what you feel for Negan is wrong, you're not stupid, of course you know but now it just feels... Sickening. After the moment you two shared yesterday and this very morning-

oh my fucking god, aren't we supposed to have dinner with him tonight?? oh, fucking hell...

"[Y/n]? Hey, sweet pea, you there?" Randall's voice brings you back to the present and you snap out of your thoughts, now completely freaked out as you remember Negan clearly telling you to come and have dinner with him tonight.


"Hey, you're alright?" he asks, clearly worried, seriously wondering if he's not to blame for the state you seem to be in right now.

"Y-yeah, yeah, I'm alright, I just- I need to get some rest."

You don't let him answer, you just kiss his cheek and walk away, pushing the door leading back into the compound open just to be greeted with people running all over the place and loud noises which only cause an enormous headache to visit you.

You make your way through the crowd, people are shoving you all over the freaking place and all you can do is keep your arms tightly wrapped around your shaking frame and push through the thick crowd until you finally get to the long corridor leading to your room.

"Morning, pumpkin, how we doin' today?" Simon's voice booms right behind you, making you jump, a gasp leaving your mouth and a chuckle leaving his.

"Gosh! Don't- Don't do that, you scared the crap outta me."

"Sorry 'bout that, pumpkin, c'mon now, let's go have a lil' chat, shall we?"

no. no, thank you.


He ignores your potential protest and drags you along with him to the kitchen.

wait, what? is he gonna cook me something? damn... i'm starving, dude.

Your stomach lets out a little growl at the though of food and, of course, you can count on Simon to hear that and grin like a douche, "Ya hungry, pumpkin?"

"Y-yeah, so-sorry."

He points one of the stools surrounding the island sitting in the middle of the big kitchen and you sit on it with a little difficulty, this thing isf ridiculously high for you to just sit down on.

"There it is." you hear Simon say as he looks through the kitchen's supply room and you see him come out of there with a chocolate bar, a whole freaking chocolate bar.

He sits in front of you at the opposite side of the island, puts the candy right in front of him and gently pushes it towards you on the counter. You hesitantly take the chocolate and look up at him, kind of confused, "Negan saw a jar of Nutella in your room and I guess he assumed you loved chocolate so he brought back some for you, pumpkin."

okay, that's sweet and all but, what the fuck was Negan doing in our room? creepy? yes, creepy.

"We inspect the rooms from time to time, make sure everything's in order." he justifies as he spots confusion on your face.

he seriously needs to stop doing this, how does he know what's going through your freaking brain? can he actually hear us? this is scary... what if you're actually talking out loud and not in your head... not cool, dude.

"Oh- Okay, t-thank you."

"You're welcome, pumpkin, but I'm sure Negan'd be more than happy to get a thank you. But I appreciate it though."

yeah, of course he would. that man loves when people pet his giant ego.

There's a small silence in the room but you can hear people working in the compound still and it's kind of reassuring that it's not completely silent, it'll be awkward otherwise.

"So, I assume you know Negan went on another little trip outside for the day, yeah?"

"Y-yes, he told me, yeah." you answer, slightly pulling on your fingers.

"Good, good. So, he left me in charge since he took Dwight with him and he left me a little something for the two of us to talk about, you're okay with that?"

"W-well, y-yeah, I- I guess."

please, don't tell me he's about to give us a class on sexual intercourse, please, god, no.

"Alright, then!" he straightens up and grins at you, "So, lil' lady, you have completely free access to Negan's quarters today-"

yeah, okay, cool, but no thank you.

A deep chuckle makes you snap out of your thoughts and you look up at Simon, blushing as you feel like this man can read your freaking mind.

he's doing it again! what the hell.

"And, they're completely empty, they're all yours, no one else is in there, pumpkin." he finishes his sentence with a slight smirk as if he knew that you were silently going to interrupt him and you hate how easily he seems to be able to read you.

what? do they, like, have a storage room for these women or...???

"What- what about- y'know..."

"Dwight dropped them all off into the several communities working with us for today, Negan said he wanted to try some shit out."

did randall break my brain and now i'm hearing things or did simon seriously just said that? help, i'm lost and potentially about to blow up.


"Don't ask, I don't know what the whole plan is, I know just a little about it and I'm not allowed to tell so, yeah."

"What if I give you- Wait, no, okay. What if I share my chocolate bar with you, uh? Would you tell me then?" you ask a little too hopeful that your childish plan might actually do the trick which seems to amuse Simon.

"Everyone has a price, pumpkin." he starts, standing up from his stool, "And mine's a lil' higher than that I'm afraid." he finishes with a laugh and a small smile appears on your lips, happy to see that, even though you failed to make him spill out whatever information he has, he still played along and got a laugh out of it.

He leans against a counter top next to you and takes a long look at you, making you shift uncomfortably on the stool you're sitting down on.

"You can do whatever you want today, pumpkin, just don't do anything you know you're ain't supposed to 'cause I would hate to have to tell Negan about it. You never know what kind of mood he'll be in whenever he comes back from his lil' trip out in the real world, believe me, you don't want to misbehave today, pumpkin."

He pushes himself off of the counter and starts walking out of the kitchen but you quickly jump off your stool and run up to him, "Wait- I-" you look at him, unsure of what to say now that he's looking at you again, "I uh- Is there anything I can do around the compound to help?"

"No matter how much I fucking appreciate someone as hardworking as you, pumpkin, Negan made it clear that he wants you to get some rest today so, no, there's nothing around here for you do to."

"But- I w-won't tell, please, just give me s-something to do, pretty please?" you ask still nervously pulling on your fingers, looking down at the ground.

"Listen, pumpkin, I can't be running the place looking after you, not today-"

"B-but you won't have to! I promise, I- I don't need to be l-looked after, Simon."

"Look, [y/n], I can't risk you getting a single scratch, alright? Negan made it pretty damn clear that he'll chop my balls off if he finds even the slightest of scratches on you when he'll get back, so, I'm sorry but it's still no."


"You might want to stop rolling your eyes so much before they get stuck in the back of your head, missy." Simon remarks with a chuckle, making you roll your eyes in annoyance again.

"Sure." you mumble, clearly a little upset and frustrated.

"Alright, " he starts with a long sigh, "you really want something to do, pumpkin?"

"Yes!" you quickly answer, blushing slightly when your sudden outburst of enthusiasm makes Simon laugh.

"Okay then, how 'bout that; it's currently," he pauses to look at his watch, "a quarter past ten so, let's say you get some rest 'til noon, you eat a lil something and then I'll give you some shit do to if you're still feeling up to it, deal?"

"Can't I just start now, Simon?"

"No, it's either what I just proposed to you or nothing, pumpkin. I shouldn't even be discussing this with you right now since Negan made that shit pretty damn clear before he left. So? Deal or no deal?"

"D-deal. Okay."

He extends his hand out to you and you shyly grab it for him to give a firm shake, almost crushing your much smaller hand in the process.

"Now, you wanna go get some rest in your room or in Negan's quarters?"

"W-what's the difference?"

"It's way more comfortable and calm in his quarters, and, hell, the place is empty and he even gave you access to his bedroom so you should make the most of it, pumpkin."

"A-alright, c-can you- Can you walk me there, please?"

"F'course, pumpkin but let's move it 'cause I got shit to do."





Simon just closed the door of Negan's office, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, after he gave you a tour of the entire place; it's mostly bedrooms, Negan's "living area" and a seriously overdone common room, the same common room you were shameless making out in with Negan just two nights ago and, of course, you couldn't help but to replay the scene over and over again as Simon was showing you around the place.

You're glad to finally be in Negan's apartment because it has to be the only damn part in his quarters that doesn't smell of fucking nail polish and awful perfume. Though, the place definitely smells of him; leather, gun power, whiskey and spices, something that's all Negan and a dead give away that the man spends most of his time in here.

You clumsily take your combat boots off and carefully shimmy out of your jeans, letting them pool at your ankles before stepping out of them. You feel comfortable here, almost like you belong here.

You take your time and look around the apartment room, wandering off to his bedroom since the last time you were in it, you didn't really have time to look around the place because, not only were you pissed about being in here but also, and mostly, because Negan had other plans for you and they clearly did not include a grand tour.

You blush as your eyes drop on the queen sized bed sitting in the middle of the room, recalling what happened the last time, the first time, you were in this very bed and how shitty you felt the next morning. You still can't believe he asked Simon to bring you back into your bedroom that night...

"Whatever, it's done." you whisper to yourself as you walk towards a huge shelf filled with books, you grab a complete random one and crawl underneath the silk sheets of the bed, almost purring in comfort as you settle on the mattress and open the book.

You barely open the thick book when something falls out of it, making you jump in surprise and, with one look at the book, you realize that it's not even a real freaking book, it's a box.

of fucking course you had to pick the only damn book that isn't even a fucking book... of course.

You put the box next to you on the bed and look down between your thighs where two shiny rings fell out of the "book".

fucking hell, please don't be what I think you are, for the love of fucking god, don't do this to me...

You take both the rings in your shaking hand and closely look at them, guilt washing over you. These are alliances, Negan's and Lucille's.

oh fucking shit, fuck me with a candy cane...

You automatically whisper a "sorry" before putting the two rings back into the book shaped box and quickly get out of the bed to put it back with the other books.

You decide to go back to bed, not feeling like reading anymore. Your thoughts are heavy, you're not sure what's going on with you right now but you don't like it, it feels... too complicated, you hate it.

You hate the way you feel, you hate the way he makes you feel. You don't understand it and you don't much care for things that you don't understand when it comes to your mind.

You just feel so goddamn empty whenever Negan isn't around and you hate it, you wouldn't mind feeling hollow before but then he came into your life and he changed everything. You somehow got attached to him and now you can't stand what he does to you. He completely fills you up when he's around you but whenever he goes away, it's like he takes it all back from you, like he won't allow you to stay warm if it doesn't come from him and you love it just as much, if not more, as you hate it.

You let out an heavy sigh before closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off to sleep, hoping that your mind will be more calm and rested after a quick power nap.

"I miss you, Connor." you quietly whisper to no one in particular before falling deeply asleep wrapped in Negan's silky sheets.





5:20 PM //

You've done everything Simon gave you to do. In all honestly, he only gave you really simple and safe tasks and it kind of pisses you off but at least you weren't doing nothing all day long. You checked the armory, loaded the guns that needed to be loaded, cleaned most of them, made the inventory of the kitchen pantry and now you've decided to do something that's been bugging you for a while now; you've decided to fix one of the trucks you didn't have time to repair before.

You've already fixed one up on your first day at the Sanctuary but didn't get the time, nor did you have the energy, to tend to the other and it's been bugging you ever since. It just felt like you'd started a job and left it unfinished and God knows how insane that can drive you. So, here you are, underneath the giant truck that's been hunting your dreams and nagging you for leaving it untouched in the corner the immense garage of the compound, covered head to toe in sweat and grease; you feel pretty damn good.

You're actually done with the repairs now and you've moved on to cleaning some parts that need cleaning here and there- Well, at least you were until Simon's voice boomed into the room, making you jump underneath the damn truck and hitting your freaking head it the process.

"Ow! What the-"

"Get the hell out from under there." he orders, panicked like he's just caught playing with a ticking bomb or something.

You sigh and slide out from underneath the vehicle, holding your head and frowning when you feel something running down the palm of your hand and between your fingers. You're bleeding.

oh, cool, that's cool, you had one fucking job and it was not to get hurt and, well, you fucking failed so, yeah, there's that...

"Fuckin' hell, [y/n]! I said not a fucking scratch and I find you underneath a fucking truck and now you're hurt, what the hell's gotten into you!" Simon freaks out as he runs up to you and helps you back up.

"Don't yell at me, okay!" you snap, wiping your dirty hands on your jeans with a huff, "You scared me and I bumped my freaking head, that's all, I'll clean it up, good God." you sigh, frustrated with his attitude and angrily clean your hands with an old bandanna before throwing it on the floor and walking out of the garage, "Oh, and, by the way," you start, stopping right behind Simon, not turning around, "I fixed the damn thing, t'was just a leak."

"Thank you b-"

"You're welcome." you don't let him finish because you know he's going to try and give you a lecture and you're not in the fucking mood for that right now so you walk away, the sun outside fully hitting your eyes, making you wince.

You slowly drag your feet on the concrete ground as you walk back to the compound to get back to your room but you stop dead in your tracks when you spot Randall, Faith, Arat and some other people that you don't know shit about -and you don't really want to get to know if you're being honest- all sitting down a wooden table in the yard, laughing and chatting.

Randall spots you pretty damn quickly but, just as he's about to stand up from his sit, you shake your head no and walk away from the small group. You don't feel like interacting with anyone today, aside from Negan and the little episode you've had with Randall earlier this morning, you didn't talk to anyone at all today besides Simon and it's only because you had to. Something just doesn't feel right ever since you've step a foot back in this place, it feels like you're realizing just how much you actually hate it, what it represents and what it stands for.

Maybe you were better off out there, maybe you shouldn't have let Negan sweet talk you into coming back, again. You're exhausted, your head hurts and the hit it's just received isn't helping at all.

You finally step in the communal shower room and look in one of a big mirrors on the wall above the sinks. You have a small yet really deep looking cut right above your right eyebrow, you wince when you touch it with shaky finger tips.

"Darn it." you sigh, tired and eager for this damn day to end already.

You feel like crying every damn time you recall having a dinner planned with Negan tonight, you're not sure if you want to go but he held out his part of the bargain so that's the least you can do, you know that but it doesn't sooth your worries, at all.

"Well, don't you look mighty fine, kitten."

Your heart almost jumps up of your chest when you hear Negan's voice echoing in the quiet room, "Jesus! What's with people and scaring the crap outta me today, you all need to stop, okay? This is such an horrible trend, I do not support it."

well shit, did you just make a full sentence without stuttering? you just spoke normally to negan, girl. that's progress.

"I'm the only one allowed to creep up on you." he teases with a chuckle, "Who the hell scared ya, sugar?"

"D-doesn't matter, just- don't do that, p-please." you quietly answer, afraid that you might get people hurt if you give him names no matter how unimportant this is, your head dropping down.

well, never mind...

"Hey now, look at me, baby doll." when you don't immediately look up at him, he grabs your face with a gloved hand and forces you to. You can see his eyes narrowing and his brow furrowing as he examines your face, you can feel your blood running down the right side of it, "Doll-"

"I- I know, it-it's my fault though. I- I bumped my head while I was fi-fixing a truck and- I know that I wasn't supposed t-to do that b-but I- I needed to do something pro-productive, I'm-I'm sorry." you quickly say, a tear rolling down your face, making your head ache even more, afraid that he might get angry at you or at Simon and you don't want someone else to take the blow for you, it wouldn't be fair.

To your surprise, he doesn't snap, his expression even softens and he eventually lets out a small chuckle before kissing your forehead in his very own gentle way, "C'mon, baby girl, let's go get you all cleaned up." he says right against your skin.

"W-well I was about to take a shower so-"

"Nah," he cuts you off, stepping back from you just enough so that he can look into your eyes, "you're comin' with me so I can get you cleaned up properly. We need to take care of that wound, lil' one."

He doesn't let you answer, knowing that you'll probably only deny him again, and hooks his left harm underneath your bum, steadying you with his right arm splayed out in the middle of your back before lifting you up and pushing you against his chest, keeping you tightly against him as your legs snake around his waist all on their own accord like they always do.

He carries you like that through the place for everyone to see and you can feel your cheeks burning up just because you're in his arms, completely out in the open for anyone to see and judge. Your face is hidden away in the crook of his neck but you can hear people getting quiet around you as Negan walks the two of you around the place, hell, you can even hear them kneeling in front of him as he walks by, paying no mind to them, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid that someone might steal you from him.

You feel him going up a set of stairs, your body rocked by the movements, and your face only comes out of when Negan whispers that it's okay against your temple. You look around and realize that you're in his apartment, his office more specifically, the light in the room slightly blinding you at first but you slowly adjust as he sits you down on his desk, your eyes widening when you spot Lucille leaned against his dresser. The bat is covered in blood and pieces of flesh, walkers' hopefully.

we both know the odds of that are pretty damn slim, [y/n].

You're not sure what he's doing, he kinda just sat you down on the top of his desk and walked off. You saw him going in his bedroom and, eventually, your curiosity gets the best of you yet again and you decide to jump off the desk and quietly walk to his bedroom but, when you get, you spot the open bathroom door, light coming out of it, but don't see nor hear him anywhere.

did the ground swallow him or something?

"Doll, c'mere." you hear his voice echoing in his bathroom.

"Uh, o-okay."

You hesitantly walk to the open door leading to the bathroom and spot Negan leaning against the fancy counter top where a seriously pretty faucet sits in and a giant mirror sits right above said counters, showing Negan's reflection. You examine him for a quick second, he's taken his leather jacket and his glove off. You've always wondered why he only covers one of his hands and not both.

"Tell me if it's warm enough for ya, sweetheart." he says, nodding towards the big bathtub that's now filled to the brim with water and bubbles.

You shyly go and dip a finger in it, blushing when a freaking meow escapes your lips at the warmness of the water. It's been a decade since you've last taken a bath and this is torture for you, "I-it's perfect, th-thank you." you quietly say, gasping when you feel his hands snaking around your waist, your back hitting his chest and his breath hitting the back of your right ear.

"You're welcome, [y/n]." he kisses the skin right behind your ear, making a bunch of goosebumps come out to cover the skin of your neck, "I'm gonna let you get undressed while I clean Lucille up, call me when you're in the bath, okay, baby girl?"


He lets out a small, deep chuckle and slowly, almost hesitantly, lets go of you before walking out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him and, for some reason, you don't really mind. You're just happy that he knows better than to make you strip in front of him.

You take your clothes off, your body aching with exhaustion making you whine in discomfort as you do. You watch as your panties pool around your ankles, kick them to the side and clumsily get in the warm water, trying to be quick, afraid that Negan might come back sooner than expected... Kind of like he did today. 

Actually, you're pretty sure he'd told you he'll be back by the end of the day if he could and his early return only freaked you out because his timing didn't give you the time you needed to clean up and make your fresh wound disappear but, hey, you don't really care about that right now, all you can focus on is the warm water hugging your body.

You hide your breast with foam when Negan steps inside the room with a grin on his face, making you blush madly when he crouches right next to you, leaning over you to get the damp glove at the other side of the tub.

"Here, pretty girl." he quietly says as he grabs your hair and twists then into a messy bun on top of your head before wrapping a scrunchy around it, giving him access to your neck and face, "You cleaned my room, baby girl." he states matter-of-factly rather than ask.

"Y-yeah, so-sorry, I just- There was some dust so- I thought- Sorry." you sigh, pulling on your fingers underneath the water and foam as you nervously worry at your bottom lip.

"I'm not mad, doll, relax." he reassures you and flashes you a wink when you ever so slightly look up at him through a few stranded strands of hair floating around your face, "I really appreciate it, that's all."

You let out a small "oh", your face dropping down with a blush to look at the bubbles and white foam covering most of your body and you can't help but think about the fact that he might actually be able to see your butt right now.

Without another word, he starts washing your face with the glove, his movements way more gentle and careful then what you're used to as he washes the grease, sweat and blood off before letting your hair fall back down to wash them and you swear you feel yourself purring when he starts massaging your scalp.

You're not used to this, you're not used to people caring for you and taking care of you like that and you usually don't like being pampered but when it comes from him, it's just different, you love it. You don't know if it's because you don't get to see this side of him often and there it is, all out for you and only you to see, or if it's because you just like the man in his entirety and sharing this kind of moment with him means so much to you, it bordering on unhealthy, no matter how much you hate to admit it. Probably both.

"What're you thinking about, princess?" he asks with a smirk as he finishes to rinse your hair off.

"I uh- I got into an argument with Randall today, i-it's still bothering me, that's a-all. Nothing i-important." you answer with a small shrug.

what? it's not a lie, okay? we're genuinely still bothered about what happened. no, we didn't mention what was going through your mind at this very moment but, let's be honest here, it doesn't really matter, my friend.

"Yeah..."he sighs, "I'm gonna have to take the kid for a walk tomorrow. He's being real fucking stupid at the moment and I can't fucking have that." he says more to himself than to you and the idea of him taking Randall for "a walk" makes you extremely uncomfortable.

"He- He just lost someone, his behavior isn't anything to be worried about it, it's a-actually pretty normal an-and healthy, Negan."

"Ya think?" he asks, sounding genuinely interested in your input.

"Y-yeah, give him a few days, y-you'll see. He'll get better. He just- He just needs good company and a little patience, he-he'll get through it." you state, worry clearly showing in your voice. It hurts to see your friend hurting like he is but you know that it's normal for him to be and that you have absolutely no right to keep him from feeling whatever he has to feel, no one has the right to do that, it'll just be cruel.

Negan's left hand ends up on you right cheek, making you turn your head to look at him and his lips immediately crash down on yours in an eager yet somewhat gentle kiss. On their own accord, your hands find their way to his face, his beard tickling your fingers but you can tell that he's trimmed it a bit.

You're the first to pull away much to his dismay and yours but you need to get out of this bath, "C-can I- Can I get out now?"

"The water's cold, baby?" he asks, dipping his fingers in the now lurk-warm water, making you blush furiously when his fingertips touch the skin of your thigh.

"N-no it's just that- Well, I- I didn't take a shower before getting in a-and - well, now I'm kind of bathing in my own filth a-and it's yucky."

"Yeah, you're right. S'fucking gross, baby doll." he says with a chuckle, making you pout and you end up splashing water on him.

"You're freaking gross." you say with a small giggle as he laughs along but you can see that his eyes darkened as he leans towards you to crash his lips into yours again.

"We're both fucking gross, princess."

You gasp and let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeal when both of his hands sneak under the water to harshly grab two handfuls of your butt cheeks before lifting you up, goosebumps covering your skin as the cold of the room seems to upset your now warmed up body.

You blush a deep crimson red as the realization that you're fully naked against Negan's body right now and his hands are harshly gripped on your butt cheeks, hits you like a bus. His grip on your wet skin is so tight that it kind of hurts but also you find some sort of odd comfort in it.

You whimper against his lips as he walks the two of you out of the bathroom, completely discarding the face that you're literally soaked right now, before heading straight for his bed and gently laying you down on the mattress, his lips never leaving yours, his fully clothed body covering your completely naked one.

"Y'mind if I take a look at ya, baby doll?" he asks clearly not wanting not take things where you don't want them to go as he starts nibbling at the crook of your neck, his face never looking down as he waits for your permission to do so.

"N-no, it-it's okay... I think."

"Y'think? Nuh-huh, [y/n], I need a clear yes or a clear no, ain't shit happening until then." he gently yet firmly explains as he brings his head back up to yours, resting his forehead on yours.

"I- It's just that-" you let a small, sad sigh as your eyes are getting teary and you get frustrated as you feel a single tear rolling down your cheek, you don't want to cry, not right now, "Y-you're gonna make fun of me."

"Why in the holy fuck would I do that, baby? Who the fuck made fun of you? C'mon doll, tell daddy who's ass he needs to beat."

"I- I just- I dunno."

"Yes, baby, you do." he insists with a frown, trying to push you to finally take that step, let go and give him a name.

"I don't want to talk a-about it- Please?"

"Alright, doll." he breaks with a sigh, bringing one of his hand up to your cheek to wipe a tear away as he used the other to hold his body up above you, "We won't talk about that shit, for now."

"What d'you mean for now?" you let out a small giggle, "You want me to talk to you about my issues? You better be immortal or some crap then 'cause the list is pretty darn long."

"Yeah?" he teasingly asks with a smirk.


"Well," he lowers his face until his lips find the bottom jaw on the left side of your face, "guess it's a good thing I ain't planning on goin' anywhere any time soon, baby girl."

You're about to give him one of your witty comebacks put you're cut short when he starts sucking on that torturous spot below your jaw, making you mewl and shift underneath him, his hands finding your bare waist to keep you still as he works on leaving a dark love bite on your skin.

"Negan, please!"

You're not sure what you're pleading for right now but it seems to satisfy him a whole lot, you can feel a smirk on his lips against your skin, "Please what, pretty girll? What do you want?" he asks, his voice way scruffier than it usually is, as he keeps on biting on the skin of your throat, leaving dark marks all over your delicate skin, marking you as his.

"Please touch me, daddy!" you sound so desperate, your voice is already wrecked and you know that you should be embarrassed right now but you can't seem to bring yourself to give a damn about how stupidly needy you sound. Plus, Negan seems to be enjoying it quite a lot.

"So, you're okay with me looking at you, princess?" he asks again, his mouth right next to yours as he speaks those words, wanting your consent before crossing that line. And, even though your eyes are screwed shut, you can hear the cocky smirk he's wearing in his voice and it makes you want to cry out in frustration.

"Yes! P-Please, just- Just do something."

After you've given him permission to look down at your bare body, you feel his body warmth leave you as you presume that he stood up and you take a short, shaky breath in to try and calm your nerves a little.

A moment passes and you don't hear nor even feel anything so you open your eyes, tears already filling them as your mind keeps bashing you with awful words but they quickly fade away when you see Negan standing in front of the bed, knees digging in the mattress as he looks down at your completely bare body, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his eyes darker than you ever saw them.

The way he looks at you kind of scares you a small bit, he looks like he's stalking a prey and you're not sure how you're supposed to feel about it, "Fucking hell, baby." he growls, the tone of his voice surprising you, as it dropped lower than it you've ever heard it drop, and the intensity of both his stare and voice makes you squirm on the mattress.

"I-" you immediately close your mouth when he comes back down over you on the mattress, his eyes on yours and you whimper when you feel his hands running up from your waist to land right beneath your breasts and pushing them together, making you squirm beneath him at the foreign gesture.

You spot an all too familiar smirk on his lips and his eyes keep looking down at your face, scanning it entirely. His eyes stop at the fresh cut above your right eyebrow, your lips and then lower down to your throat that is practically covered in bite marks and deep, darkly colored hickeys, making a proud grin stretch across his lips.

After a little while, he completely pushes his upper body up, now straddling you, straightening his knees a little so that he's not actually putting any of his weight on you, and he lets his eyes wander further down until his stare lands straight on chest, eyeing the barbells pierced through each of your nipples. 

You're about to tell him to stop staring but only a needy noise comes out of your mouth as both of his thumbs start to draw circles on both of your hypersensitive nipples, the whimpers and mewls he's getting out of you only encouraging him to keep going so he starts to roll them between his thumb and forefinger and he groans when your back completely arches off the mattress, pushing your breast further into his hands, your hands clinging and tugging at the satin sheets beneath you.

"Good fucking God, baby girl. Look at you, you're a fuckin' mess and I've barely touched you." he grunts out, his voice rough and even deeper than usual.

"I'm sorry." you say, your voice higher than you've ever heard it being.

"Are you?" he teasingly asks with that awful smirk of his still plastered on his lips.

"W-" you're about to ask him what he means but you're, once again, cut off as he takes your right nipple into your mouth, the tip of his tongue running all over it and his teeth pulling on the barbell, making you cry out, your hand itching to pull on his hair but you restraint yourself, not knowing why you're having psychotic impulses of all the sudden, "D-daddy, can I p-please put m-my hand in your hair?" you ask, panting and confused as to why you even felt the need to ask for his permission, it just didn't feel right to do it any other way and it seems to be more than pleasing to him because he literally groans against your sensitive skin, making your nipple harden some more and your back arches even further to push you more firmly to him.

"F'course, baby girl. Go ahead." he quickly answers between kisses he leaves on his way to your left nipple and gives it the same treatment he gave to the right one when he finally reaches it.

Your right hand flies to his hair after he's given you permission and you whine and pull it the dark strands, making him growl as he fully sucks your nipple in, flicking his tongue between the swollen nub and the barbell going through it. After what feels like minutes of making you squirm, mewl and whine beneath his ministrations, he finally leaves your sore nipples alone and goes straight back to assaulting your mouth, his tongue pushing past your already slightly parted lips, not giving you a damn second to catch your breath but you don't mind one bit.

"You're so fuckin' pretty." he whispers against your lips before sitting down on his calves, taking his time to admire you and to take you all in as he realizes that he finally has his girl in her birthday suit, "My pretty baby." he breathes you and you're unsure if he meant for you to catch that or not, but you most definitely did, "Fucking hell, you have no fuckin' idea just how fucking beautiful you are and it's a goddamn shame and that just won't fucking do for me, sweetheart."

Carefully, he shuffles around and changes his position so that your legs are now outside of his and he's kneeling between them. His eyes never leaving yours, he softly grabs the back of each of your thighs, his eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might want him to stop or that you might be uncomfortable with what he's doing but he only finds confusion there. No panic or fear, just complete and utter confusion.

"What are you- I don't - I don't think you're s-supposed to look d-down there-" you panic, your chest heaving frantically and your hands fisting the sheets in a white-knuckled grip but you don't move a muscle.  

"You trust me, baby?" he asks, his eyes never leaving yours as he leaves a soft kiss on the side of your right knee.

"Y-yes bu-but-"

"Then let me show you. It's okay, just relax."

"But-" your eyes pop wide open when you see him laying down on the bed, his head uncomfortably close to one of most intimate part of your body and having your legs held wide open isn't helping, "Y-you're not-" your hands violently pull the silky sheets covering the bed as Negan's tongue boldly runs past your lips until the very tip of his tongue ends up grazing the hood of your clit, making your back arch completely off the bed, a groan leaving his mouth and you're pretty sure that your cheeks are melting at this point.

"F-fuck! Daddy, please-" you start cursing and panting, completely unable to form a proper sentence as he's literally eating you alive.

You're a complete wreck, between the feeling of his fingers keeping you open, his tongue rounding the edges of your clit over and over again, the feeling of his beard scratching the sensitive skin of your inner-thighs and his free hand pushing against your belly to pin you to the bed and keep you from moving around is all too much for you. This is all new and foreign and you had no idea that this kind of feelings actually existed and now they're completely overwhelming you.

You take a deep, shaky breath before pushing yourself up on your elbows to look at him properly but you fall right back down when you see just how dark his eyes are as he looks straight back at you and that he's still wearing that stupid smirk of his.

The noises filling the room are so obscene to you but it's like fucking music to him. He's addicted to it, he loves the sounds you make, he craves them and, goddamn, he loves having you panting and whimpering beneath him, he never felt so goddamn powerful in his entire life.

Your legs start to shake and you call out for him, still unsure of what's happening to your body. You need him to reassure you, it's all still pretty scary to you.

You feel his mouth leaving your clit, whimpering at the loss but you're quick to get back on your feet as his lips crash against yours and his right thumb starts drawing patterns on the throbbing bundle of nerves to bring you over that edge that your body is so badly craving.

"C'mon, baby girl." he growls out, making shivers run all over your body, "Let it go, it's okay." he reassures right against your parted lips. 

You whimper and hide your face in the crook of his neck, your hips moving to a messy rhythm on their own accord, it feels like you have no control over your body whatsoever and it kind of scares the crap out of you.

"It's alright, baby, cum for me. Right now, cum for daddy, doll." when you try to squirm away from him, he doesn't let up and simply follow you on the mattress before bringing his free hand down on your waist to pin you down, his left thumb never slowling down on your weeping clit, "S'okay, baby." he coos though his voice is rough and sharp, "Just let it happen. Go ahead, be a good girl and cum for daddy, princess." you whine and scream out when he leans down at bites down on your pulse point, your legs shaking and you can feel something like a coil in your belly and it's just about ready to snap and break you in half, "Fucking do it now." he orders in a growl, his voice filled with authority and that does it.

His words are apparently all it takes for you to completely explode, your toes curl to the point that it hurts, your back aches so much it pushes you completely flush against Negan's chest which allows him to keep on sucking at your pulse point and you have to bite your lip in order to keep the scream threatening to spill out from doing so but a cry still makes its way past your lips and another one right after so you end up giving in and decide to just let it happen.

"Yeah, that's it, baby. Good girl, [y/n], let it all out. Just for me, yeah?"

"J-just for you! Fuck!"

After he'd helped you ride out your high, Negan's thumb finally slows down and slowly comes to a stop when he's sure he's milked your orgasm for all its worth, leaving you a mess on the mattress. Your chest is quickly heaving up and down, some of your still damp hair are sticking to your forehead, your nipples are still painfully taut and you feel a constant throb between your legs and a soreness all over your freshly marked throat.

"You're such a good girl, baby." he coos, kissing your lips again but more gently this time around.

"M'tired." you whisper with a small yawn as you feel like all of your worries have been taken away from you.

"Yeah?" he asks with deep chuckle, arousal still cursing through his veins, "Well, get some rest, pretty girl. Dinner ain't ready yet, I'll wake you up when it'll get there, yeah?"

"No, stay with me. Pretty please?" you shyly ask, your cheeks still burning, as you feel like you might be getting to attached to this man when you clearly shouldn't even think of him the way you do.

He looks at you for a moment, wondering if staying with you is that good of an idea but he can't bring himself to deny you, not right now, hell, not ever, actually. He doesn't usually do that kind of things, he doesn't chase after one girl, he doesn't crave a specific person, he doesn't get irritable whenever said person isn't around, fuck, he doesn't usually miss or need anyone.

He did something pretty damn big today and he knows he can't tell you about it because he's not even sure if he'll go through with it. Simon told him that it wouldn't change a damn thing and that it might actually be better for the whole community but it's a big step to take and he's not sure if he's willing to take that damn step, he's not sure if it's that he doesn't want to or if it's that he's afraid he'll regretting it later on.

The most simple decision there is to take is becoming a fucking challenge for him and it's all because of you.

"N-Negan?" your small voice brings him out of his cowardly thoughts and back to you.


"Y-you uh- You d-don't have to stay, you know? I'm sorry." you whisper, afraid that the moment of absence he's just had might have been because of you.

"Meh, it's not like I can go running around the place with a hard dick anyway, baby." he says with a smirk, trying to play it all off like he's not more than willing to stay in bed with you all day, everyday. Stripping out of his clothes but keeping his briefs on, he joins you beneath the sheets, immediately bringing you against his chest like he's afraid you might vanish, "We'll have to talk tomorrow, doll."

"W-why not tonight?"

"Why not tomorrow?" he simply replies, completely dodging your question before kissing the top of your head, "Get some rest, pretty baby."

"O-okay." you break, curling yourself up further against his chest, nervous and upset but you're not sure why.

"Hey," he lifts your head up for you to look at him, "it's okay, sweetheart. You're not goin' anywhere and neither am I."


"I fucking swear to fucking God and the fucking stars above, baby." he says with a smirk, making you giggle against his chest. He watches with a smile as your breath becomes heavy with sleep and your eyes flutter close, your lids heavy with fatigue.

"What the hell are you doing to me, doll. Fucking hell." he whispers to your sleeping figure before turning off the lights, careful not to move around too much not to wake you, before pushing you further against his body and resting his head on top of yours, slowly falling asleep with a bunch of shit on his mind, shit he doesn't know how to deal with but that he'll have to deal with without hurting you in the process.

It's kind of the whole point of the thing after all; to stop hurting his princess. That's all he wants and he knows that he's being immature, stupid and selfish living the way he does but he can't help it. His ego is fucking enormous and he feels like one single person just won't be able to deal with that.

All he knows is that he did what he did today because he's scared shitless at the idea of losing or hurting you further than he already has. Plus, he's not stupid, he sees the way Randall looks at you and he's not sure how you feel about him, one thing he does know though is that; he can't fucking stand the thought of you with someone else, it angers him beyond belief and he can't have that, he won't.

Chapter Text

7:00 PM //

He can't explain it, he doesn't really feel the need to if he's being honest. He's scared of what you're doing to him and the things you're forcing him to feel and his mind to acknowledge but, no matter how wrong it feels to him, he still lets it happen which is something he never, ever, does -ever-.

He's fascinated and slightly freaked out as he watches his very own hand run through your hair with a gentleness he absolutely had no idea he had in him. It's almost like he's scared to break you, like he's afraid that you'll wake up and vanish for some goddamn reason.

He hates it, he hates that you're not his, that there's other men looking at you the way only he should, that you don't seem to be all that faced by his shitty behavior but, goddamn, does he love the fact that you're not someone he can just mold however he wants nor order around like a toy, he'll never admit it but he fucking loves it.

"Damn it, princess, what the hell are you doing to me?" he asks your sleeping figure for the second time tonight in a whisper, squinting his eyes and carefully watching your sleepy face.

He's not used to being affectionate with- well, anyone, really, he didn't even know that he could be. He had no idea that he could grow attached to someone again, he didn't want to but now it seems like you've caught him into the most viscous, toxic, unhealthy, fucking wonderful web there is and he knows you'll eat him alive if he lets you but he can't bring himself to try and break free, he's good right here.

Deep down, he knows that the relationship you two have isn't healthy for you, at all, but he can't let it go, he can't let you go, he doesn't want to, even if it means you'll end up getting hurt. He doesn't give a shit because he knows that he'll be right here to pick up the pieces, he just has to hope that the pieces don't end up turning into even finer dust and he knows that it's a huge risk after all you've been through, you're already so fragile, and he's part of the reason why.

He hates fucking up and hurting you but he can't help it, he feels like he needs to break you so you'll come running back to him and, hell, you do, every single time. He knows you won't come to him just for the hell of it, of course he knows, he's a piece of shit, he's nothing good and you, well, you're his complete opposite. He knows you have nothing to do with him but he wants you so he'll break the rules over and over again, consequences be damned.

His attention is brought back to you when he feels you squirming against his chest, smiling when he hears you whimper softly in your sleep. He's never seen anyone sleep so damn deeply and he loves the fact that you feel safe enough in his arms to let yourself go like that, it feeds his giant fucking ego but it also makes his heart swell which isn't a feeling he's used to, at all. 

He's pretty sure you're having a bad dream right now, the way your face is scrunching up, the way your breath keeps on getting faster and faster and the smile on his face fades to a frown when it hits him. He doesn't know what to do about it though, he has no fucking clue.

A knock on the door of his office makes him grunt in annoyance and he carefully gets out of bed, gently putting your head on one of his pillows. Looking back at you once he's out of bed to make sure that he didn't wake you, he silently leaves the bedroom and clumsily puts a pair of grey sweatpants on, not bothering to put on a shirt, before opening the door of his office with a grumpy expression on his face.

"I- Uh- Sorry to disturb you, I just, uh, brought you your dinner." Dwight says, carefully handing Negan a tray filled with food.

"Thanks, Dwighty boy but I don't recall that shit being your fucking job?"

"Well- I mean, I know you usually ask one of your wives to bring you your meals but, well, they're all kind of pissed off about the whole... Y'know, day out working and all."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Negan exclaims with a laugh, "Well shit! Would ya believe that, they're pissed because I made 'em work for once in their fucking lives? Fucking hell, Dwighty boy, the ride back home must have been real shitty, uh?"

"Yup, t'was, but, y'know, doesn't matter. They're all here, they're all safe."

"They in bed?"

"Yes, boss."

"Good, 'cause I'm not dealin' with pissy little brats tonight."

"I- Uh... We might have a problem though."

"Oh yeah? And what fucking problem might that be, Dwight?"

"We uh, we can't find [y/n]." Dwight nervously admit, afraid that you might have run off again. Frowning slightly when Negan chuckles and grins at the confession.

"Yeah, I got it covered, Dwighty boy, don't worry 'bout that. Now go get some rest, y'deserve it."

"Alright then. Goodnight, Negan."

He waits for Dwight to walk away before closing the door, locking it and walking back to the bedroom only to find you sitting in the middle of his bed, your knees against your chest, tears rolling down your face, looking lost and... hurt?

"Hey, baby, why're you crying?" he asks with a worried frown, ditching the tray of food on top of his dresser before walking to your side of the bed, sitting down next to you.

"I j-just- I had- I had a nightmare a-and you- you weren't t-there and- I- I though you-you left and-" you can't finish your sentence as a sob rips through you and you quickly bring a pillow on your thighs to burying your face in it and cry into the soft, plush mound only for it to be snatched away from you.

"C'mere, sweet thing." Negan says before lifting you up and sitting you on his thighs, not waiting for you to even try and decide for yourself.

You don't complain though and immediately hide your face into the crook of his neck, seeking some safety and comfort as Negan finds himself weirded out by the fact that the most beautiful girl he's ever seen is completely naked on his laps, her skin touching his, yet he doesn't want anything else but to comfort her, which is, like, really fucking weird to him and he's not sure how he's supposed to feel about it, he's lost and he fucking hates it.

He doesn't know why he hates to see and hear you cry so fucking much, he doesn't know why he would care so damn much about someone and the fact that he does care so fucking much really pisses him off.

He's so used to people being terrified of him, to hurt and kill others that he's completely forgotten the most important thing there is; he's a human being and that shit comes with a bunch of horrible feelings that no one seems to know how to fucking handle. And, like most humans; he doesn't want that.

The only difference he feels there is between him and everyone else is that he feels as if he can't afford it. Yet here he is, hushing you, one of his hands rubbing your bare back whilst the other rests on the back of your head, keeping your face buried into his neck.

"D-do you know if- if Randall is o-okay?" you quietly ask against his neck, afraid to look at him which leaves you completely clueless to the fact that Negan's eyes just got a shade darker and his jaw clenched shut at the mention of another man.

His blood is boiling, he doesn't fucking care how Randall is doing and he doesn't want you to fucking care either, especially not when you're here with him, in his fucking arms, "I don't fucking know, baby girl. Now, you hungry?" he feels your body tensing in his hold as he voice comes out harsher and colder than even he expected but he knows he won't apologize for it even though he should and parts of him wants to.


"Wasn't a question, I want you to eat somethin', doll. You're done skippin' meals and that's that." he sharply says, dropping you on the bed quite carelessly before walking towards his dresser to grab the tray of food he's left behind in his rush to get to you and brings it back to the bed with him.

well shit, completely ignore my goddamn question while you're at it, ya prick...

You absently stare at the mirror facing the bed on the other side of the room as the nightmare you just had keeps on replaying in your mind like a movie going in circles.

You keep seeing this small, dark room and there's feet covered by a pair of black boots dangling in the air, there's an awful smell in the room, a smell that you're all too familiar with yet you can't seem to be able to identify it. You're lost and your face is soaking in your tears as you look up only to see Randall lifeless body hanging from the ceiling, a rope tightly holding his throat, keeping air out of his lungs and then everything just goes black and it all repeats itself like a perfect, wicked loop.

You open a door, walk into a room, smell a terrible odor, spot a pair of feet, start to cry, spot Randall and it never stops unless you wake up.

The only thing on your mind right now is the blond, tattooed man. You worry about him, it hurts you to see just how damaged he is and you wish you could make it all better, that you could go back and push Connor out of the way, react, do something, anything, even it means dying for him, you'll do it without any hesitation to save your friend's life and let Randall be happy for, at least, another day.

You didn't mean for Connor to die but it happened anyway and now you have to live with that on your conscience which makes you wonder; how does someone like Negan does it? How do you keep on going knowing that you're the cause of someone's death? Is it different when you actually meant to kill that person? Because you sure as shit didn't mean nor want Connor and the man Negan forced you to kill to die, you absolutely did not.

"Doll, where the hell d'you go just now?" Negan's voice pulls you out of your thoughts, any trace of coldness now gone from his voice.

"I uh- I'm not hungry." you quietly say, avoiding eye contact with him.

"I already told you, I don't give a damn if you're hungry or not. You need to fuckin' eat." and there's that cold tone again.

"I ate this morning!" you snap back, your voice slightly raising and it feels like your head is about to explode from all the damn thoughts going through it at the same damn time.

"Don't fuckin' raise your goddamn voice at me, girl." he lets out with a snarl, clearly angered by your attitude.

You only scoff at his words and get out of his bed before heading to the bathroom to get your clothes, trying not to overthink the fact that you're walking around completely naked but your hands still come up to cover your chest until you find your t-shirt laying on the bathroom's floor and quickly put it on before clumsily sliding back into your panties, now looking for your jeans, you just want to cover yourself up right now.

"Are you fucking serious right now, doll?" Negan asks, clearly displeased, as leans against the door frame of the bathroom, watching you carefully.

"I just- I need to be on my own."

"Like hell you do." he spats out before stepping into the bathroom, harshly picking your jeans off the ground before you actually get the chance to get to them, "What the hell went wrong this time, uh? What is it?" he asks, his fist clenched shut on your jeans as he's clearly getting impatient on you.

"Negan, please, I just-" you sigh, tired of always ending up in the same goddamn loop with him. It's always the same damn thing, it's all good and then he suddenly goes back to being an asshole and you're sick of it, "We- We were good but you just- You just had to go back to being a controlling p-prick." 

"I'm fucking worried about you, angel face." he admits with an oddly soft voice, making you look up at him, confusion marking your features, "I need you to fucking eat something, even if it's just a goddamn piece of bread, I don't give a shit."

"Why- Why do y-you suddenly ca-care about me?" you ask, not knowing make of his behavior anymore.

"Why are you so fucking scared of being cared for, [y/n]?" he asks with a small smirk, his playfulness slowly coming back around when it's not fucking needed in your opinion, "How fucking badly have you been treated, baby girl?"

fuck off.

"Randall t-treats me well. He-he cares about me." you answer barely above a whisper, your head dropping down, part of you not wanting Negan to hear that.

"Yeah?" he asks and you can fucking hear his damn smirk in his voice, making you want to punch him, at least that's until he pops up right in front of you, invading your personal space and pushing you against the counter in the bathroom, the marble cold and hard, making you wince in discomfort, "Ya really believe that he can treat you better than I ever will, baby girl? S'that it?" he asks, poison in his voice as he speaks, "C'mon now, doll. Tell me." he insists when you don't say a word, his face now uncomfortably close to yours, so close that your noses are pushing against one another and your lips are only a hairsbreadth away from crashing into each other.

yes i do, of course i fucking do.

"I- I don't- I" you feel like crying, you can't find a damn thing to say to him, it's all stuck inside your head and nothing's coming out of your mouth. You're literally just gasping for air right now and the only coherent thing your brain can come up with at the moment is to kiss the man in front of you.

And, just like that, you're shyly pushing your head forward and leave a single, chaste kiss on his lips, pulling away before he can even register what just happened. Shaking off the initial shock, he quickly falls back on his feet, a smirk appearing on his lips, and he harshly brings you right back to him, his hands firmly holding your waist, before pushing his lips against yours making you whimper. You try and slow the kiss down, to put some distance between your half-covered bodies but it only proms him to push you completely flush against him, his grip on your waist tightening, his fingers digging in the soft skin through your t-shirt, sure to leave marks if not bruises. 

"You're not his, doll, you're fucking mine." he whispers huskily, his forehead resting against yours.

"W-what if- What if I don't w-want to be?" you ask, your body shaking nervously.

"I don't give a single fucking shit, princess. Now c'mon, let's go eat somethin' and go the fuck back to sleep." he plants a kiss to your forehead and you almost flinch but manage to stay still, "We gotta get some shit done tomorrow, baby."

And, just like that; he leaves the room, leaving you all alone to realize just how terrified you actually are of him.

did he just say that he didn't give a shit that you didn't want to be his? what the hell is going on...?

You're terrified, you literally cannot move, you're frozen in place. You can't believe that it took you so long to realize how fucking stupid and dangerous it is to have a thing for this man. Of course you had to go and crush on this man like a stupid school girl.

well, maybe now's time to grow the fuck up.





2:00 AM //

The room is dark and awfully quiet by now. You did everything he told you to do; you ate a little bit and the two of you had little conversations but, even though he didn't seem bothered at all, you felt terrified and awkward just being there with him and now you're in his bed again but you can't stop waking up every ten damn minutes.

He's snoozing away right next to you so you decide to quietly get out of bed and sneak out, ignoring the fact that you're still not wearing any pants nor a bra but you don't really give a damn, it's two in the morning, no one should be walking around the damn place at this hour anyway.

You quickly run into the bathroom to grab your pants, bra, socks and your combat boots before opening the door of his bedroom, wincing when the wooden door creaks in an obnoxiously loud manner, you take a quick glance behind you to make sure that Negan's still asleep and let a small sigh of relief out when you see him still deeply asleep.

You get out of the bedroom and walk through his office before sneaking out, quietly closing the door behind you before quickly walking out of his quarters through the big door leading to a staircase outside.

The cold air of the night immediately attacks your delicate skin the second you open the heavy steel door and you regret not having socks on when your bare feet make contact with the horribly cold steel of the staircase.

"Well, I'm a smart person." you whisper bitterly but with a small smile on your lips.

As you make your way down the stairs, you hear people laughing and you immediately feel safe as you recognize Faith and Dwight's voices. You wince when your bare feet hit the hard, concrete ground of the front yard and your little noises seems to be enough to catch Faith's attention as you see her rounding the wall hiding you away from her and Dwight, shinning a flashlight on you.

"[Y/n]? Honey, what are you-" she stops and looks up and down at you, frowning at your lack of clothes but her expression softens shortly after, "You ran off, uh." she says with a small laugh, not mocking you but clearly amused by the fact that Negan doesn't seem to ever be able to get it right with you.

"What you got, Faith?" Dwight asks from afar before appearing from behind the wall, surprise showing on his face when he spots you with your clothes and boots in your arms, only wearing a shirt and a pair of panties, "Shit, where you-? Damn, I actually was worried about you, [y/n]. Hell, Randall is losing his shit too right now-"

You don't let him finish and run past him and Faith at the mention of Randall to quickly making your way into the compound, running through the place before ending up in the corridor leading to the bedrooms and you don't give a shit if you make noise, you just want to see Randall, you want to know that he's okay, you need to know.

You stop in front of his door and repeatedly knock on the damn thing in a complete blind panic. Your heart seems to skip a few beats and it feels like you're about to pass out or throw up, you're not too sure which one. The door finally creaks open in front of you, leaving you knocking on emptiness as your brain doesn't seem to register that the door actually opened.

"[Y/n]? Oh, thank fuck." he lets out, clearly relieved to see you, before bringing you to him and tightly closing his arms around you, making you giggle and cry in relief.

"I'm sorry, Randall. I'm so sorry." you keep repeating "sorry" over and over, you don't even realize that Randall brought you inside his room and closed the door.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, [y/n]." he coos before kissing the crown of your head, "Calm down, sweet pea, you're okay, I promise. It's okay." he softly whispers in your ear, "You're safe, I promise, [y/n]. I promise."

"I'm scared." you cry into the crook of his neck, completely panicked.

"Scared of what, sweet pea? What the hell happened? Why are you carrying your clothes and not wearin' them?"

"N-Negan- Negan said that- But I- I just- I thought- But- Then we- I don't know!" you messily string together and sob into his neck, soaking his skin, as your hands snake around his neck, your left one resting there as the right one sneaks into his thick blond hair, pulling him closer to you and if he gets any closer you two'll merge together for sure.

"Hey, shh, it's okay, sweet pea. You're safe here, I promise."

You take a deep breath and finally look at him pushing the tip of your nose against his making him smile, "Hi." you softly whisper as you finally make eye contact with him, your eyes puffy from all the crying you've been doing.

"Hey there." he replies just as softly, making you laugh and that's all he wanted, to make you laugh even just a tiny little bit. 

You let out a relieved sigh and let your head fall on his shoulder, your lashes tickling his neck, covering his skin with goosebumps but he doesn't move away, he doesn't want to, "We should leave." you whisper, making him turn his head so you lift your head off of his shoulder to look at him again, "You and I. We should run away, we could and we should."


"Please." you plead, clearly upset at the idea of spending your remaining days in this place.

"[Y/n]," he starts, his voice serious but soft as he absently rubs one of his thumbs across your soft cheek, "wherever you wanna go, whatever you wanna do, I'm down. Always." he quietly says with a tired but genuine smile.

"You are?" you ask, shocked yet really flattered and seriously relieved that he trusts you the way he does.

"Hell yeah, this Chicago boy is a ride or die kinda guy." he says with a small chuckle, making the faintest of smiles appear on your lips, "Plus, I can't ever say no to those damned puppy eyes of yours, sweet pea." he adds, getting a giggle out of you and the sound is enough to make him forget about his own heartache.

You hug him tightly, silently telling him just how much he means to you and he hugs you right back, tightly keeping you against his bare chest, only breaking away from you to look at you and laugh, confusing you.

okay, what did we do now? seriously, dude.

"Sorry, princess, it's just-" he pauses and softly chuckles, the sound alone making you feel at home, "Your nips are poking me, sweet pea." he points out with a grin as your cheeks literally start to melt down and you feel like jumping into an active volcano to escape the embarrasement.


"Didn't think you'd be a piercings kinda gal, sweet pea." he teases, clearly enjoying to see you so flustered.

well shit, didn't see that one coming, fucking hell...

"Shut your mouth, you're the worst." you reply, softly hitting his chest in annoyance and embarrassment. 

He laughs and gently kisses your temple, making you involuntarily bite down your lip at the soft gesture.

"M'just teasing you, sweet pea, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You do you, never forget that." he says before planting another kiss on your temple, "Now, let's go to bed 'cause you scared the shit out of me, waking me up with your crazy knocking skills."

"I got mad skills, bruh."

"Fuck yeah, you do, betch."

You both laugh at your own stupidity and you wait for Randall to put you back down but he literally throws you on his bed instead, making you bounce on it like a rag-doll, giggles pouring out of your mouth.

Being with him is always so damn different than being with Negan. You love being with Randall, he's gentle, kind and always means well. He makes you feel normal, he makes you feel like things are gotta be alright no matter how bad they might get before-hand, you just genuinely love and enjoy his company.

You crawl underneath the sheets of his bed and purr when you find a really warm spot, indicating that that's where he's been sleeping before you gave him quite the wake up call.

"You're just gonna steal my spot like that, sweet pea? How rude." you hear him say as he walks towards the bed. As you look around, you spot your clothes neatly folded on a chair, your boots on the floor next to it.

oh god, he's so fucking sweet and caring, what the hell.

It's such a small gesture but he could have left your clothes on the floor, hell, you did. So him actually picking them up, folding them and putting them somewhere safe really makes your heart melt and your cheeks burn as you recall your bra being in that pile.

You feel the bed dip to your right and you quickly make room for Randall so that you both can share his already warmed up spot since the rest of the bed is ridiculously cold and your little gesture makes him smile.

"Why, thank you, madam."

"You're welcome, good sir."

"So," he starts before putting his hands behind his head on his pillow and you take the opportunity to go and rest your head against his ink covered chest, the gesture making him smile as he brings one hand down to reassuringly rest in the middle of your back, "I saw Dwight and Faith flirting today, I never felt so damn alone in my damn life."

"What? Seriously? Dwight? And Faith? Are you sure??" you ask, your head never leaving his chest.

"Well, that's a lot of questions there, sweet pea." he gently mocks.

"Watch it, Chicago boy, I'll punch you in the groin." you say, raising your balled fist in a half-hearted threat.

"You're terrible, y'know that?"

"I've heard." you look up at him from his chest and a laugh leaves your mouth, "This is not the most flattering angle for ya, Randall."

"Hey, screw you! I look good all day, everyday." he protests with a mocked pout.

"Yeah, you do, Chicago boy." you reassure him before kissing his left pectoral and laying your head back down on it.

"Connor and I, we uh- We had this bet going." he pauses to let out a small chuckle, "I told him that Faith and Dwight would become a thing one of those days and he said that it'll never happen, that bastard owns me money." he finishes with an heart-wrenching sad chuckle and you can't tell if he's about to cry or not but his voice is breaking your heart.

"Yeah, y'hear that Conny? Dwight and Faith... Sheesh, I wouldn't have believed it either to be honest." you softly say, directly talking to Connor, just like you used to talk to your father after he died. It might be weird to some people but you don't give a shit, it brings you relief and that's all that matters.

You feel Randall's free hand gently coming down on your left cheek before softly rubbing it with his thumb as the one he's resting on your back starts rubbing up and down on your shirt, "He fucking loved you, y'know? He kept sayin' that you reminded him of his niece, she was eight when this whole shit went down, she just- Y'know, she died." he pauses and lets out a deep, heavy sigh that makes his chest move beneath your head, "She was all he had left, I mean, I was here, with him, but, y'know... it's different. He kept blaming himself for it, said that he should have done somethin', that he should have reacted faster- Bullshit. There wasn't a damn thing he could've done. It took him a long time to actually forgive himself and then, well- Negan found us, killed one of our friends and then he told us to either work for him or to join our friend, Connor almost died that day but Negan said that he liked his guts and that he wanted to keep him around. We had no idea how fucking bad this whole thing was, Connor got really depressed here, it fuckin' killed me to see him like that, everyone always saw him as the smiley and flirty dude but he was really sad behind closed doors."

"He didn't deserve to go like that but- At least he's peaceful now, y'know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he is, princess, and fuck it if he doesn't deserve it. My boy is peeing in God's shoes now." he says with a chuckle.

"I hate you, Randall." you say with a small laugh as he compares Connor to a pet, "But, in all seriousness, I'm sure he's happy to see that you're still talking shit about him."

"That's how he wanted to be remembered, y'know? He wanted people to remember him as the dude that could make you laugh in the worst case scenarios, the dude that made people happy just because he was there, the dude that acted like he was full of shit but really he was just dicking around... Man, I fucking loved that lil' shit."

"And he loved you too, don't you ever doubt that, Randall, ever."

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"And uh, I'm sorry- I'm sorry that I didn't let you, y'know... put him down." you whisper the last words, "It should have b-been you and I- I took that away from you, it was selfish of me."

"Hey," he gently sits up on the mattress and you follow, sitting legs crossed in front of him, "you didn't do anything wrong, sweet pea. I- I fucking hate to say it but I couldn't have done it and- And if I wouldn't have been able to put him down, Negan would have taken advantage of it and he would have brought him back to fucking use him on the fence and it would have fucking destroyed me, [y/n]."

he wouldn't have done that? right?

"I- That's so messed up, I can't believe he would- No, he wouldn't have- Randall?"

"Wouldn't have been the first time, sweetheart." he stops, realizing that his words are upsetting you, "I'm sorry, shouldn't have talked about it, I just- What you did was far from selfish, it was really fucking brave, [y/n]." he finishes, his right hand coming back on your left cheek, his thumb rubbing your cheek, your eyes closing at the soft gesture, "That's the stupidest fucking question I'm ever gonna ask but; how the hell are you so goddamn human, sweet pea."

"I dunno. I wish I wasn't, it hurts really bad." you genuinely answer with a forced laugh as you slowly open up to him.

"Your humanity isn't what's hurting you, [y/n]." he starts, your eyes fluttering open to look at him, his hand still on your cheek, "What gets you hurt is that you're too fucking good for this damned world."

"Yeah, right." you whisper, making him frown, "I'm not- I'm not any better than the people living here, Randall-"

"Like hell you aren't." he snaps, clearly not agreeing with your statement.

"No. No, I'm not." you reply calmly, nervously pulling at the hem of your shirt, "I- I've killed people, Randall." you look up at him and he seems upset but he encourages you to keep going with a small nod of his head, "I just- I have blood on my hands, you know? I hate that I do but- Well, I do and I can't deny it. I can't go around acting like I'm cleaner than the rest, 'cause I'm not. And I- I can't-" you pause, your head dropping before an heavy sigh pushes past your lips, "There's a bunch of things that I did, things I'm not okay with, things that I don't want to be okay with, Randall. I don't want murder to become a casualty for me, I can't let that happen, I don't want to let that happen, I won't. I don't want- I don't wanna be like him."

Your whole body jolts back when you feel Randall's hands gently framing your tired face to make you look up at him and, when you do, he gives you a reassuring smile, silently telling you that the way you feel is valid but not necessary. You're no killer, he knows that and he respects the hell out of you for that too.

"Y'know why Negan did what he did? Y'know why he made you kill that man?" you furrow your eyebrows, trying to think of a proper answer but you actually are really confused as to why anyone would force anyone to kill but Randall clearly wasn't looking for an answer to his question, "He did it because you don't break. You don't. No matter what he says or does, you're still on your feet and not down on your knees and it pisses him off. He hates it, hell, if it wasn't for whatever the fuck he feels for you, he would have already killed you, sweet pea. He can't fucking stand when people disobey him and misbehave. Connor-" he pauses for a second and carefully examine your face, making sure that you're alright, "Connor never, ever, killed before he met Negan, ever. But Negan decided that he had to be able to do so if he wanted to keep on living here so, one day, he brought Connor with him in one of the community that works for him and he told Connor to kill a dude. The look on his face when he came back- Man, he was fucking terrified and I've never saw so upset and shocked. When he told me about it, I almost lost my shit, I wanted to cut Negan to pieces but I never had the guts to... Thing is, Connor died a long time ago."

"You're wrong." you say, making Randall tilt his head to the side, "Connor was still right here, with you, with us. He was an amazing person and he deserved way better and- And maybe- Maybe his death was the best thing that could happen to him, I hate to say things like this but- I don't know, it's just- One day, I went out, I went to Hilltop and I got caught up in a conversation with Jesus. I- I didn't care about the fact that I was gonna be way late, I knew Negan'd be pissed but I didn't care, I was scared when I came back though, but- Connor was working the night-shift that day, he opened the gate for me and he actually took the time to talk to me-" you pause, a small laugh passing through your lips, making Randall smile.

"What is it?" he asks, curious as to what's so funny to you.

"It's just- That night, he also told me all about how he had mad skills when it came to writing personal information in the snow with his pee, t'was... An interesting conversation."

The two of you start laughing, Randall eventually ended up grabbing your waist and laying the two of you back down on the bed, letting you settle against his chest again before bringing the warm bed sheet over your bodies. You two kept talking, mostly about your past, who you used to be and what you used to do and love, until you both ended up falling deeply asleep. Randall's hands never letting go of you and yours resting on his torso.

You never fell asleep so peacefully, ever, not even before the outbreak, and it's a more than welcome change if you're being honest.





7:15 AM; //

Randall's eyes flutter open, groaning as the sunlight invading his bedroom blinds him before turning around to let his head fall into his pillow.

"Morning, sleepy head." you greet him, gently sitting next to him on the bed.

"Morning, sweet pea. Ugh, what time is it?"

"A quarter past seven-"

"What?! Oh fuck no, I overslept." he clumsily gets out of bed, getting all tangled up in his sheets, only to fall flat on the floor, making a loud thud in impact.

"Oh my God, a-are you-" you can't finish your sentence as laughter burst through you, you feel sorry for the guy but his fall was also pretty damn funny.

"Uuuuugh! Stop laughing at me, you lil' shit." he demands with a laugh, slowly getting up off the floor just to watch your body folding in two, tears in your eyes as you can't seem to be able to stop laughing and it only makes him laugh again, your laugh contagious.

"I-I'm so-so sorry, oh my God, but that was beautiful." you take a deep breath, wipe your tears away and straighten back up before looking at him, "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not! You laughed at me, gimme a hug and maybe, just maybe, I'll forgive you."

You smile and make your way to his side of the bed before hugging him tightly, apologizing for laughing at him, making him smile, "What a fucking way to start the day, uh?" he says with a grin, keeping you firmly against his chest.

"Yeah, maybe we should, like, cancel today or something."

"Hell, that'd be fucking amazing but I don't think Negan's gonna go for it though, y'know?"

You only scoff, pissed that someone else is making the calls for you. You hate that, you like to be free, you like to be able to say "fuck it, I'm not doing anything today" and you're gonna get all of that back, you will, no matter what.

"You should- You should get ready, I'll wait for you at the cafeteria, sounds good?"

"Yeah. Yeah, f'course, sweet pea. Be there in five."

"Alright." you shyly kiss his cheek and walk out of his bedroom, your boots clinking along with every step you take, you usually never pay any attention to that sound but it seems like it's the only thing you hear this morning and it pisses you off.

stupid noisy boots.

You make your way to the cafeteria and you can't help but get a bad feeling about just how quiet the whole place is. You try to ignore it but it's hard, the only thing that you can hear are people working in the compound, the halls are empty and so is the cafeteria, except for the "cooks" that are working in the kitchen.

You sit down on one of the tables, waiting for Randall and hoping that Faith is gonna show up as well as you anxiously pull on your fingers. The knot in your stomach tightens, something just doesn't feel right and you hate not knowing what it is but you decide to wait and see, just in case.

Looking down at your watch you see that twenty minutes have past and Randall is still nowhere to be found so you decide to take the matters in your own hands and go look for him.

what the hell is he doing??

You walk out of the cafeteria and quickly make your way to his bedroom but, when you get there, he's a no-show yet again so you try the showers but they're all empty and that's when you start to freak out a little.

okay, okay, maybe- maybe he just directly went to work and he forgot to tell us, right? that's possible, right?

At this point, you're running through the halls, trying to get to the main area of the compound as fast as you can but you stop dead in your tracks when you hear Negan's voice booming in the said aera. You carefully make your way there and you frown when you see Negan's workers all knelled in front of him, Simon and Dwight are by his sides and his "wives" are standing in a corner, looking down at the ground like scared puppies.

"What the-" you start but quickly stop when you spot Randall, kneeling right in front of Negan, his expression far from scared, it's something feral, and you can feel your heart dropping in your chest.

what the fuck is going on?

You step inside the open area and, much to your dismay, Negan seems to hear the single step you've just taken and is quick to turn around to face you before walking towards you. Oddly enough, you find yourself standing your ground, straightening yourself up to show him that you're not backing down this time, you're through with his bullshit.

"I can't believe you actually left daddy to wake up all by himself this morning, baby doll." he says with a smirk but he's clearly angry.

"Yeah, s'almost like you never asked one of your men to carry me back to my room in the middle of the night while I was asleep, am I right?" you snap back, decided not to let him look down on you again and he seems to enjoy your feisty attitude today as a grin appears on his lips.

You're satisfied with yourself but it quickly fades away when Negan takes it all back by turning back around and harshly punching Randall in the jaw, making the blond man fall flat on the concrete ground.

"Negan, don't-"

You're about to step in, you're barely a centimeter away from grabbing your knife when Dwight grabs your arms and keeps them firmly behind your back, making you wiggle around to try and break free but you feel completely cornered when his free hand snake underneath your face to keep you from turning away from the scene displayed in front of you, you can't move, all you can do is breathe heavily and silently beg for Dwight to let go.

"I'm so sorry, it'll be over soon, I promise." he quietly says, trying to reassure you but the hatred you feel for him right now is too strong for his words to do anything else but piss you off even further.

"Screw you! Leave him alone!" you scream out, trying to get free from Dwight grip once again but it's all wasted energy.

"Who are you, Randy boy?" you hear Negan say, his voice clear as crystal through the loud ringing in your ears.

"M'Randall." you hear the tattooed man answer weakly as his lungs are desperately trying to get some air but all of Randall's effort to breathe are completely destroyed by a violent kick in the ribs.

"C'mon, now, Randall. You know better than that, kid." Negan snarls with an amused smile and anger in his eyes.

He asks him again and gets the same answer so he hits him and asks him again and it's a never ending loop of pure violence that you're forced to witness. You hate that you actually find yourself wishing that Randall would just give it up and say the word yet you've never been so damn proud of him. You remember him saying "we're all Negan around here" just yesterday and now he's fighting to keep his very own identity.

You're finally run out of energy and you go partially limp in Dwight's grip, all you can do now is cry your heart out as you're forced to watch your best friend getting beat up for no goddamn reason other than another man's pride has been hurt.

Negan slowly stops his assault on Randall only to push the right side of his head flush against the ground with a huge grin on his face, forcing Randall to look at you and you let another sob out when you see just how damaged his face his.

"Fucking look at her, Randy boy. The lil' princess is crying her lil' heart out because of you. I don't fucking know why she fucking cares so much about your useless ass yet here she is; fucking crying for you and I don't fucking like having to watch my baby girl cry like that. So, now, you better fucking apologize to her." Negan demands all while looking straight at you, his eyes never leaving your teary ones though you keep on looking down at Randall, feeling more helpless and vulnerable than you ever did in your entire life.

But things only get worst when Randall looks at you and keeps on whispering that he's sorry, only making you crying some more. You don't want to hear him apologize, you're not crying because of him, you're crying because of Negan.

You feel like throwing up when you realize that Negan isn't even finished with the free violence yet and goes back to kicking Randall's already seriously injured body before spitting on the ground right next the his face, no one is batting a single lash even though an innocent man is getting beat up right in from of them, they're all cowards and you hate every single person in this place, you hate Negan.

It all stops when you hear a voice that you recognize as Faith's calling out, "Negan, that's enough!" she says in a harsh tone, making your blood go cold.

You have no idea where she was until then, she sure as hell wasn't in the crowd, Arat is though and you're pissed at her cowardliness, she didn't even try yet she claims that she's different from Negan. Like hell she is, you're seeing red and you feel like going on a rampage, you want to watch this place burn to ashes with those people in it.

Oddly enough, Negan actually stops after Faith's intervention and Dwight hesitantly lets go of you. You push yourself out of his grip before he gets the chance to say anything or to even completely let go of you and immediatly run towards Randall, kneeling down next to him, flipping him on his side for him not to choke on his blood as he seems to have a mouth full of it.

"Oh my God, Randall- Baby boy- I'm so sorry- I - I don't- I didn't-"

"Hey-" he spits blood out of his mouth, splashing some on your knees which are not covered due to the fact that your jeans have wide holes at the knees, "S'not your fault, sweet pea." he says, a smile appearing on his bloody face and it makes you want to scream. How can he be so calm and collected when he must be in such an horrible pain.

You never felt so much anger running through your veins as you help him sit up only to hear him wince in discomfort and pain, "Randall, I-"

"Alright now, let's have a lil' chat, doll." Negan interrupts you, harshly grabbing your left forearm and forcing you up before dragging you out of the big open area as his workers all go back to work as if nothing ever happened and it makes you sick. The fact that Negan is touching you makes you sick, the fact that Dwight played against you makes you sick, the fact that Randall got hurt so fucking badly makes you fucking sick.

"Let go of me you fucking psycho!" you protest with a cold voice, trying to break out of his painfully tight grip but he completely ignores you and keeps walking, dragging you along with him.

You get to a staircase and you're well decided not to climb up that damn thing but Negan doesn't seem to give a flying fuck and he literally lifts you up and throws you on his shoulder, your face now way too close to Lucille as the bat is hanging right next to you.

He climbs the stairs, you dangling on his shoulder, until he reaches his office and you start to panic a small bit. You don't want to talk to him, you don't want to be in the same room as him, you don't fucking want him to touch nor even look at you and you can't help but think that he's about to give you one of his useless speeches about how spooky he is and blah blah blah.

He finally puts you down before closing the door of his office and the first thing you do is reach for your knife which you quickly pull out of the waistband of your pants, pointing the blade directly at him, anger running through your veins, your chest quickly heaving up and down you pant for breath.

No matter how much he believes that he's got you all figured out, he has no fucking idea just how aggressive you can get when someone hurts the people you care about and love and he knows it. He knows damn well that he's in complete unexplored territory right now and he has no clue of what to expect, it kind of stresses him even though he's not showing it. 


"Fuck you." you snarl in quite a terrifying cold yet calm voice and it seems to completely caught him off guards, "You-" you start, pointing at him with the blade of your knife, "You have no right! Who the hell do you think you are?! You can't treat people like that! What the hell is wrong with you?!" you get closer to him, your eyes narrowed, your jaw clenched tight and your knuckles white around the body of your weapon, your head slightly tilting to the side as you're now a few centimeters away from him, "I don't give a flying fuck of just how bad and fucking tragic your life has been, Negan, you're nothing because you've decided to be nothing! You're no one, you mean nothing, you don't stand for anything but yourself and that makes you the biggest, most useless piece of shit there is! You're such a fucking hypocrite," you spat out with a cold chuckle,"walking around like you know better than anyone else but really, you're just a coward, too lazy to actually go out there and get your own shit. That's why you terrorize people and bully them. Because you know damn well that you can't survive on your own, Negan. You're the biggest coward there is, being a leader isn't what you make of it, it's not scaring people and forcing them into submission." you get even closer to him, getting right in his face, your noses almost touching, "And it sure as shit isn't being a misogynist pill of crap who so dearly believes that running an harem is cool. You're not a man, Negan, you're a little boy who thinks it's cool to have hoes laying around. You're fucking pathetic is what you are and meeting you was the worst thing that ever happened to me." you finish as calmly as possible, trying not to shove the blade of your knife into his neck and let him bleed out like the fucking pig that he is.

"Enough, [y/n]."

"Or what?" you challenge with a quirked up eyebrow, anger blinding you completely.

He doesn't answer you. Instead, he just brings Lucille right in front of you, letting her sharp wire graze your delicate skin, creating small yet deep and painful cuts on your left cheek but you don't make a sound. You don't even wince or flinch a little, you just stand your grounds and let him do whatever it is he thinks he's doing right now.

"You look so fucking sexy when you're angry, baby girl, but you're pissin' me the fuck off right now and, believe me, you don't fucking want that."

"S'that a threat?" you ask, yet again in a challenging tone, your brow still raised at him in defiance as you're really quickly running out fresh of patience.

He suddenly, carelessly throws his bat on the other side of the room, making books fall off their shelf, before harshly wrapping his right hand around your throat and pushing against a nearby wall, only the tip of your boots are touching the floor below you as he lifts you up enough to get you to his height so that you don't break eye contact. 

He has you pinned down against the wall, your jaw clenches as the lack of oxygen starts to become a problem for you and your feet start to kicking around, trying to push him off of you while your hands grasp at his forearm, trying to rip his hands off of your throat but you're barely scratching him as you don't have any energy left in you. You're morally and physically exhausted.

"You'd fucking love it to be, wouldn't ya, baby girl?" he snarls out, carefully watching you as you're trying to gasp for air and he seems to be fascinated by what he sees, "Yeah, you fucking love pushing my buttons, don't you?" he asks through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on your throat, "You just fucking love to misbehave and run your lil' mouth, don't you, princess?" he harshly bites down on the exposed skin right below your chin making you whimper in pain, "Yeah, you fucking love when daddy gets mad, don't you, love?"

And, it might be in the heat of the moment or just because of the serious lack of oxygen going through your brain but you just can't seem to be able to recall him ever calling you "love" before and it kind of makes your cheeks burn up when the word leaves his filthy mouth though you know damn that this is not what should be on your mind right about now.

"N-Negan- Please-" you plead barely above a whisper as you start to see dark spots forming in your eyes from the lack of air, your nails digging into the flesh of your forearms. You need to fucking breathe.

"I thought we were fucking clear, [y/n]. You're mine, not his." he says through gritted teeth, ignoring your plea, "Why the fuck did you leave in the middle of the goddamn night, uh? And why the fuck did you run off to spend the rest of the night with him, sweetheart?" he asks, clearly angry and still high on adrenaline.

Tears are starting to roll down your face has the lack of oxygen in your lungs is starting to get seriously painful and, oddly enough, he lets go of your throat when he spots your tears, his hands coming up to frame your face to keep you from looking away.

"M'sorry, m'sorry." you whisper, completely out of breath, your throat sore and raw, your lungs burning up.

Sobs start to rip through you as you recall the last time you felt your lungs burning this way and it's all you can think about now. The day your very own mother tried to drown you, that's all there is on your mind at the moment.

He can see that you're hurt, not just physically but mentally too and he doesn't know what the hell he's supposed to do, he doesn't know how to deal with a pain he fucking created and he's too fucking angry and prideful to apologize so he just walks away, again.

He walks out of his office, locking the door behind him, locking you inside the room and you can feel your claustrophobia running back to you. The room isn't small, at all, but you don't want to be locked in here and that's enough for you to feel like you've been locked away in a coffin.

You sit down on the floor, letting yourself cry because you can't hold it in anymore and wait for your lungs, your heart and your throat to relax. It feels like there's not enough air in this room, it feels small and full of bad things, you hate it.

No matter how much pain you're experiencing at the moment, you can't help but think about Randall. You wonder if he's being taken care of and if he'll be alright, if he's mad at you, but you also find yourself being hurt and upset over the fact that Negan literally almost pushed you to the point of passing out when you never thought that he ever actually would seriously injure you, especially not on purpose.

You're terrified of him, like you used to be terrified of your mother. Then again, you got used to your mother's abusive behavior and became completely numb to it, you didn't really give a damn anymore and you don't want to go back to that, you can't allow to let yourself go back to that. Tis period of your life only made you feel dehumanized and used, you don't want this feeling to come back, you're scared of this feeling.

A few minutes later, the door of the office clicks open and the first thing you do is turn into a ball against the wall behind you, trying to hide away from the potential threat.

"Hello?" you hear an oddly soft voice call out before spotting a lady's head peaking out of the door.

well, hello there floating head... that's odd... is our brain okay? like, did the lack of oxygen really damage it that badly? good god...

"Hi?" you answer hesitantly, afraid of who that woman might be but you see her smile and get in before quietly closing the door behind her.

"Hey there-" she stops in her tracks when she spots Negan's hand print on your throat, "Oh no, honey, are you alright? Fucking hell, what a fucking prick, I swear to fucking God." she spits out, her soft voice contrasting with the harsh words.

"Wh-who are you?" you ask, almost sure that she might just be one of Negan's "wives".

"You're a smart one, I'm sure you already know, honey."

"Oh." you whisper, disappointed that she's one of "them".

"Yeah, I know, s'bad but- Well, if that can make my case any better, I don't actually sleep with the guy, like, ever."

"You don't?" you ask, a little too surprised which makes her laugh as she sits down on the floor in front of you.

"God, no, sweety. I'm married for fuck's sake, my husband's doing there, working his ass off and I'm stuck here. Hell, no matter what that man says, no matter how many times he said that no means no and you should respect it, he's not the type of man that takes a no without adding consequences to it. The asshole almost killed my man and now I'm fucking stuck here. Lucky enough, I don't need to have any kind of interaction with him or the other dumb bitches he owns. Good God, it's fucking sad to try and have a conversation with those girls."

You let a small laugh and take a good look at her; she has a beautiful, freaking glowing, brown skin, green eyes, she's quite tall and has a few curves and there's some curly brown strands of hair slipping out of the turban she's wearing on top of her head and baby hair framing the side of it.

"I'm [y/n]."

"Oh, I know who you are, honey." she confesses with a warm smile, "Hell, everyone knows who you are, girl. But it's nice to finally meet you in the flesh, my name's Laihla." she introduces herself, her smile never leaving her lips and making dimples show on each side of her mouth.

"Nice to meet you b-but- I mean- What are you doing here? D-does he know-"

"No, he doesn't know, sweety. Don't worry, you're safe. I'm here to help you out, I though that's the least I could do, really. I never get the chance to help around here since I'm stuck in this hell hole but when Faith gave me the info, I immediately jumped on the opportunity."

"Faith? Wh-"

"That woman cares about you more than you know, sweety, and I can see why." she states, making you blush.

"C-can I ask you a-a question?"

"Of course, ask away." she says with a smile, waiting for your question.

"I uh- If- If you don't, y'know- What d-do you do around here th-then?"

"Well, he usually doesn't keep girls he can't sleep with around but he decided to keep me and use me as a freaking therapist, I used to be one before all this crap hit the fan."

"W-wow... I always thought that Negan's therapist would need a therapist, y'know?" you say with a small smile.

"Damn right, I do." she says with a soft laugh, making you smile a little, "That man has some serious shit on his mind, girl, you don't wanna know. Though-" she pauses and lets out a small laugh, "He talks a lot about you, like, a lot. And, to be honest, it's actually kind of sweet. I mean, I never thought this man could care about another living creature but, damn, he clearly cares about you, well-" she takes a long look at your throat and your glossy, puffy eyes, "He clearly doesn't fucking know how to handle that kind of emotion and I'm so sorry that you've ended up all tangled up in this mess, sweety."

"S'okay, I really appreciate you coming in here and helping out, s'really sweet of you and you didn't have to. So, thank you, Laihla."

"Hey," she gently puts one of her hands below your chin, spotting the dark bruise Negan's teeth left on the soft skin there, "fucking hell- Look, you don't have to thank me, sweety, what you do need to do is get the hell out of here, y'hear me?" you quickly nod your head to let her know you do, "Good. Alright, listen, Faith is down at the infirmary with Randall-"

"Is he alright?" you ask, tears coming back in your eyes.

"Yes, sweety, he's alright. A little fucked up but alright, I promise." she reassures you with a warm smile, "You go down there and Faith'll take care of you two, alright? You just have to trust her."

"O-okay. Yeah, okay." you take a deep breath and try to get up but you're so dizzy that it's hard to do so without wanting to throw up.

"Hey, hey, here, I got you." Laihla softly say before quickly closing the gap between the two of you to gently help you up, waiting for you to get your bearings before she lets you stand by yourself though she keeps a tender hand on your back just in case you get dizzy again, "You alright, love?"

"Y-yes, thank you."

"No problem, princess, t'was a real pleasure to meet you. It's awesome to know that there's still women like you and Faith out there, fighting and standing tall, women that are proud to be independent and strong as all hell, y'all make me all hyper."

You let out a small laugh along with her before hugging her and, even though she was surprised at first, she hugs you back and rubs the hand she has lying on your back up and down in a soothing gesture.

"You're just as strong and it'll get better, you'll find a way out. I'm sure of it." you whisper before letting go of her.

"I hope so-" she looks a little hurt for a quick second before clapping her hands together and giving you a smile, "Anyways, you gotta get going, sweety. Negan's out making sure everyone's working more than they should so you have to go, like, right now."

"Alright, just- Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?"

"Uh, yeah, actually I uh-" she steps closer to you and reaches out in one of her jeans' pocket, which makes you realize that she's the only "wife" who's not wearing a dress or a skirt, "Here," she hands a small piece of paper out to you with a shaky hand, "c-can you give this to Faith? T-that's for my husband, we- We have this system going, that's how we communicate without Negan knowing, so, i-if you could-"

"I won't tell a soul and I swear. I'll get this to Faith, no matter what."

She hugs you tightly, whispering a "Thank you so much." before letting go of you and opening the door of the office, signaling for you to come out, "Alright, well, I hope I'll never see you again, sweety." she says with a small smile, making you laugh.

"And I hope that if we do meet again, it'll be outside and that I'll get to meet your husband."

"We can only hope."

"Life sucks if you don't have hope, Laihla." you quietly say, making her smile and you swear you can see her eyes starting to shine.

bitch, don't you dare cry cos i'll fucking cry too.

You hug her one last time before running off as quietly as possible, pushing the heavy door leading straight to the outside of the compound, making you quite visible out in complete daylight.

"Alright, let's do this... I guess." 

Chapter Text


"Daryl! Merle! That's enough, you freaking idiots!" you shout out, desperately trying to tear the two brothers apart.

what kind of impulsive idiots start a fight in the middle of a sidewalk which happens to be right in front of a police station... besides the dixons...

"That's enough! Both of you!" you finally snap, completely shoving Merle off of his younger brother, making him fall flat on his ass on the concrete sidewalk, "You two always pull that crap, goddamn it! I'm sick of it! Get your asses in the car, we're going home!"

It's always the same damn thing, you're so used to it by now, it's almost ridiculous.

Merle gets arrested for driving drunk or under the influence of heavy drugs, or sometimes for fighting or randomly insulting people, he calls Daryl to come and bail him out, you end up paying for Merle's stupidity and the two brothers end up jumping at each others' throats because; Daryl is done with his big brother's reckless attitude and Merle is angry because his little brother doesn't approve of his reckless attitude.

And then, well, there's you; right in the middle of it all. You're always the one breaking the fight just for them to laugh it off afterwards, you fucking hate those two sometimes.

The way back to the parking lot is uncomfortably quiet, you're upset and, to be perfectly honest, you're also really hurt.

You, once again, took a hit that was destined to one of the brothers right in the stomach and it hurts like a bitch. You don't know who's damn elbow hit you so hard and you don't care, at all. You don't want any of the two brothers to feel any more guilt than they need to feel, shit happens and that's that but this very specific shit wouldn't have happened if those two idiots didn't start to fight over a fucking fart.

"[Y/n]-" Merle starts but you quickly cut him off, swallowing tears of pain back, trying your hardest not to cry in front of them.

"Just- Get in the car, you pricks." you say with a small laugh before getting in front of the wheel, waiting for the brothers to climb into the car, Daryl riding shotgun and Merle laying in the back, grunting and holding his head as the alcohol he's consumed is starting to catch up to him with a vengeance.

You start the car and immediately get on the road, the only thing on your mind being going back to bed as soon as possible, because, yes, you were actually sleeping like a baby before you heard the front door of Daryl's house opening just to catch him sneaking out.

He said that he didn't want to wake you up and that he didn't want you to have to deal with this shit again but you completely ignored him, grabbed one of his sweatshirt, put on a pair of black Converse and grabbed the keys of Merle's car, mumbling under your breath as you dragged Daryl along with you to the car and headed to the police station of the small town.

You're not supposed to drive, you're too young to have a freaking licence and you're pretty damn sure that the car you're driving is a stolen one but you can't really bring yourself to give a damn at the moment. Daryl is too banged up to drive and Merle is barely starting to sober up.

"So, what were you in this shithole for this time, Dixon?" Daryl asks as calmly as possible but you know that they'll be at each others' throats again in a few seconds.

"Some asshole at the bar pissed me off-"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Merle. You need to grow the hell up, seriously." Daryl snaps, clearly annoyed by his brother's control issues.

aaand, there it fucking is...

"Are you fucking kidding me?! He-"

"I said enough! Both of you just shut up for one God damn minute! I'm so sick of this crap, you two are brothers for fuck's sake! Maybe you should think about that for one God damn time in your life! Now shut up, both of you." you snap before turning the radio on, trying to tune the two brothers out. Yyou're angry, tired, hurt and upset and all you want is to go back to bury yourself underneath the four blankets you sleep under every night and fall into a deep coma for the rest of your remaining days.

The rest of the ride is completely silent except for the radio and for Merle snoring away on the backseats of the car.

"I-" Daryl starts, pausing just to slightly turn the volume of the radio down, "I didn't mean to hurt you, [y/n]. I'm so sorry, I didn't see you and-"

"S'okay, Daryl." you softly say, looking at him and giving him a small smile before putting your attention back on the road, "I know it was an accident. Don't worry about it, we're cool."

"I'm not worried about that, m'worried about you." he admits, pausing to look at you and quickly looking out of the passenger's side window, feeling awkward about displaying his feelings, "I just, y'know, care about you an' all. I don't want you to get hurt, 'specially 'cause of me or Merle, he doesn't want that either. Hell, he cares about you too, believe it or not."

"I know, Daryl- I care about you two as well." you pause, hesitantly taking his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, both of your arms twitching at the contact, the two of you being really insecure about that kind of things, "And, y'know, I really believe that, as long as we have each other-  we'll be alright."

"Damn straight. We ride together, we die together." Merle says from the back, making the two of you jump slightly in your seats.

"How drunk are you, Merle?" you ask quietly.

"M'not, like, at all. Fucking hell, baby brother, I actually felt every single punches you gave me, ya dick."

"Serves y'right, asshole." Daryl says with a small smirk, making his big brother chuckle.

"You're both assholes, let's just leave it at that." you put in your two cents, making the boys smile and chuckle in sync which makes a small smile appear on your lips.

You all relax a little and the ride back home is actually quite nice and calm. You like driving at night, you like the cool air and the pretty lights of the small town, something about it just appeases you for some reason.

"Y'heard about that new crazy fever everyone's 'been talking about?" Daryl asks, pulling a cigarette out of his leather jacket as an ambulance passes your car, sirens blaring.

"Yeah, it's all over the news, s'kinda hard to ignore it." you pause to take the lit cigarette Daryl is handing to you and take a drag out of it before handing it back to him,"Thanks." you quietly say, letting the smoke pour out of your mouth and flow out the open window to your left, "Y'think it's, like, bad?"

"The fever?" he asks, unsure if that's what you're referring to, and you give him a small "Mmhm" in return, "Damned if I know but, I mean, how bad can a fuckin' cold get, ya know?"

"Some people don't have what it takes to fight off viruses, Daryl." you say, sadness showing through your voice and he understands that Luna is on your mind at this exact moment, "Sorry, I- I didn't mean to make things awkward."

"Ain't shit awkward but Merle's face right now, he looks like shit." he says with a small chuckle, looking at the back of the car to look at his sleeping brother.

"Shush, that's mean." you scold him though there's a smile on your face.

"That's how we show love between Dixons."

"Yeah, well, that sucks."

You hear him whisper a soft "yeah" but you don't mention it, knowing that he didn't mean for you to hear it and not wanting to make him uncomfortable. You know that he has a hard time with affection and emotions so you never push him to cross lines that you know he's not ready nor willing to cross just yet. You just let things be, that's how it works with the three of you, always.

The rest of the ride is quiet, you and Daryl sharing a cigarette and making chit-chat, feeling like you both already talked too much about personal things for tonight and even tomorrow. Merle is still snoozing away in the backseats much to Daryl's entertainment and you end up counting all the ambulances you see, sirens blaring, on the road on your way back. You've counted ten by the time you park in front of the Dixons' house.

"You comin'?" Daryl asks, making you snap out of your thoughts.

"Uh, yeah- Yeah, be right there. Y'need help with him?" you ask, looking at Merle which is now slowing emerging from his sleep in the back of the car.

"Nah, I got him." he says as he's about to close the door of the passenger side he was sitting on but pauses to look at you, "Hey, don't stay out here too long, yeah? S'cold as balls, don't want you to catch whatever shit's goin' around."

"Sure." you answer above a whisper, undoing your seat-belt and letting yourself sink into your seat in front of the wheel, waiting to hear the front door of the Dixons' house click shut before you allow yourself to let a deep sigh out.

Your hands are shaking, your legs are nervously twitching and you're starting to bath in your own sweat as your body begs for you to give it its dose of alcohol or drug but you ignore and know you'll have to push through it like you've been doing for months now, doing your best to keep yourself from relapsing again.

You tried to get sober after your mother died but it failed, there was too much things going on in your life for you to be able to last on the long term but, when Luna died, you tried again, for her, and now you're almost a year clean but it gets so hard at time, it just doesn't feel like any of it is worth it when you're in these moments of pure need and craving. 

yeah, living with merle doesn't truly help either, girl...

Merle is heavily into drugs and alcohol but he never tries to put you back into it, he actually stopped using after the night he had to rush you to the hospital after you almost overdosed. He was right there when you woke up and, though you were ready for him to give you a earful, he just rushed to you, held you tight and even cried a little before promising you that he was gonna help you, that he never wanted you near that shit ever again, that he'll go through thick and thin to get you there before telling you that he loved you way too fucking much to let you go down that path without a hand to hold.

Though he still drinks like a freaking fish, Merle proves to be of great help at times. He really tries, you know that he doesn't want you to go into another relapse circle and you're thankful for his and Daryl's support because you know that, if not for them, you would have fallen right back into it all head first.

speaking of the devil...

"Merle's asleep." Daryl says, snapping you out of your thoughts, whilst opening the door of the passenger side.

"Good, that's good..."

"What's on your mind?" he asks, sitting on the seat next to you leaving the door of the car open.

"Nothin', just- m'having a lil' episode, s'all." you say with an heavy sigh, exhausted.

"Shit-" he breathes out, looking down at your shaking hands, "Anythin' I can do to help out?"

"Nah, s'okay. Thanks though." you turn on your seat to face him and give him a small smile, letting your head fall heavily on it right side against your seat, "What the hell is going on, Daryl?"

"What d'you mean, [y/n]?"

"S'just- I got a weird feeling about this whole-" you let out a sigh, feeling like you're being paranoid right now, "Meh, forget it, I think I just need some rest, y'know? S'been- S'been a tough night."

"Yeah, no shit." he says with a small chuckle before gently tapping your shoulder, "C'mon, let's get our asses back inside, s'freezing out here"

You let out a small giggle before stepping out of the car, slamming the door shut and throwing the keys to Daryl, going inside the house before directly walking towards your bedroom, hoping to be able to go back to sleep after all this ruckus and especially now that your body is fully awake and having withdraws.

"Hey, sweetheart?" Daryl calls out and you turn on your heels to look at him, raising your eyebrows and nodding to let him know he's got your attention, "Ain't you gonna finish the night in my bed?" he asks with a small frown, used to having you sneaking into his room in the middle of the night to sleep the rest of it away with him.

"Oh, I uh-" you look down at your shaking hands and show them to him with a dry laugh, "I think it's best if I stay on my own tonight, Dee."

"You sure you're gonna be okay? 'Cause I don't mind stayin' awake with you if-"

"Daryl," you cut him off, making his eyebrows shoot up, "I'll be fine, don't worry. Just- You know, I get sick sometimes when I... Get like this." you whisper, feeling ashamed of the situation you're in, "Nothing I can't handle though." you quickly follow up with a smile, "Promise I'll come to you if something's wrong."

"Alright... Don't hesitate if you change your mind, though. You know where I stay." he says with a small smile, "G'night, [y/n]."

"Night, Dixon."

You say with a smile before the two of you close the door of your respective rooms shut but, the second you close yours, your smile fades away and you run into the small bathroom joined to your room, quickly dropping to your knees and messily pushing your hair back before puking your guts out in the toilet.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." you whisper, whipping your mouth with the back of your right hand before shakily getting back up and directly going over to the sink to wash your teeth and your mouth, the taste of your puke not really being something you're into.

no offense but, you were way healthier when you were hammered and high twenty-four-seven...

"Shut up." you bitterly spit out before literally spitting toothpaste out of your mouth and rinsing it all down with mouthwash.

You clean the sink, flush the toilet and carefully close the door of the bathroom before taking your jeans off, slipping out of your bra without taking Daryl's old sweatshirt off and kick your pair of Converse and socks off before finally jumping into your bed, directly crawling beneath your pile of thick, warm blankets, a deep sigh making it's way past your lips when your head finally hits your pillow, ready to resume your night of sleep.

"Good night, Luna. Night, dad." you whisper before falling into a deep, well deserved, sleep.


7:00 AM //

You're woken up by Daryl slamming the door of your room open and jumping in bed with you.

"Morning!" he exclaims, his voice is too chipper for your liking.

"Ugh, freaking hell, why??" you grumpily mumble in your pillow.

"I got a surprise for ya and I don't wanna wait 'til your birthday to give it to ya."

"Daryl, baby, no offense, but, I'm gonna shove a broom up your ass if you didn't get me a puppy or a pony, just so y'know."

"I got some' better, wait here."

"Hmm, sounds like a great plan."

You groan into your pillow as Daryl leaves the bed and runs off to God knows where. You slowly sit down on your mattress, yawning and stretching out, letting an high-pitched squeal out in the process before rubbing your eyes in a failed attempt to wake yourself up a little bit more.

"Daryyyyyl, why're you taking so long??? You better be baking me a cake or something right now."

"S'even better, just wait." he shouts as he makes his way back to your room, entering it with a smile on his face, a flat, really large box in his hands, "Here ya go, hope you like it." he says almost shyly as he sits down on the bed right in front of you, handing you the big box.

"T-thank you, Daryl. I-I'm sure I will, don't worry." you say, your timidity crushing you of all the sudden.

You carefully unwrap the box, kinda feeling bad about tearing it apart since you know that Daryl must have spent a frustrating amount of time doing it, a small smile appearing on your lips as you start to imagine Daryl covered in glue and wrapping paper, his face red in frustration and anger.

You hear Daryl let a shaky breath out when you lift the lead of the box up, happy giggles pouring out of your mouth when you spot an incredibly beautiful wooden bow carefully laying in it.

"Daryl- It's so pretty." you whisper before taking the bow in your hands, carefully looking at it, furrowing your brows when you spot words carved into the wood.

They read; "I'll always be there for you, even when I'm not, I promise - Daryl" with an adorable little skull drawn right next to the "L" and you spot other random doodles carved into the bow, one of them being a minimalist drawing of Harley Quinn, it's just her hat and her mask, it's adorable.

You carefully put the weapon aside and lunch into Daryl's arms, making him flinch violently but he pushes his difficulties aside to hug you right back, "You like it?" he asks in a whisper, clearly afraid that you don't.

"Are you serious? I love it, I wanna be buried with it." you carefully break the hug to look at him, "It's the most beautiful gift I've ever received, Daryl. Thank you, so, so much. I love you so freaking much."

You see him frown at your words, panic washing over him. He's not used to saying those words and he has a really hard time doing so even if he truly does love you a whole bunch, you understand it because you're the same, he's your only exception. Daryl said those three words to you before, on several occasions, actually, but it's a little more complicated for him to let them out when the context is so serious and he can't laugh about something else right after to appease his nerves.

"I know, s'okay, don't worry." you reassure him and you can clearly see him relax.


"Shut up." you brush off with a small laugh, before jumping out of your bed, "Now! Let's go test this bad boy out, yeah?"

"Hell yeah, let's." he says, excited at the idea of getting his crossbow out to train with you but, just as he's about to walk out of your bedroom, he stops to look at you, "Y'know I mean every single words, right?"

"Of course I do, Daryl. You don't ever need to worry about me knowing that you care, I know you do."

"Alright... Be waiting for ya at the front door, 'kay?"

"Be right there." you say with a small smile before walking inside your bathroom to get ready.

You get ready real quick before running back into your bedroom to grab the bow and you can't help but admire it some more, it truly is the most beautiful thing someone's ever done for you, it's a miracle that you didn't break into tears right in front of Daryl.

What you don't realize is that, soon enough, this bow'll be one of only things you'll have left of your best friend.





PRESENT TIME // 2:00 PM //

Your hands are shaking out of control and your fingers are clumsily tracing the drawings carved into your bow, your feet dangling freely out of an abandoned car that you've found earlier on today as you're sitting sideways on the passenger's side, your eyes filled with tears, your head, laying heavily sideways against the headrest of your sit, is filled with guilt and shame but your heart's never been so calm and beating so softly.

You keep looking over your shoulder, expecting Negan to appear right behind you, Lucille in his hand.

stop, please.

You're out. You ran off. You couldn't bring yourself to open the door of the infirmary back at the Sanctuary, you couldn't prepare yourself to see just how much damage Negan had inflicted to your Chicago boy, you've cowered away from it.

You've told Faith that you'll sneak out on your own to "make it less obvious" but, really, deep down, you know that it's also because you got scared to face Randall. You hate that you're the cause of his wounds, hell, you weren't the one beating him up but it sure as shit felt like it to you and you're pretty damn sure that that's also the way Randall saw the whole thing.

Now, you're waiting for both him and Faith and, you have to admit that you're torn being feeling excited, happy, relieved and terrified beyond recognition at the idea of reuniting with your friends, especially Randall, after what happened, after what you've put them through.

Part of you just wants to up and leave, go back to your old ways, your old, much simpler life, whilst the other part is determined to stay right here and wait for your two friends to arrive, to be right here for Randall, to fix him up and start something new, something healthy, something real and as painless as possible. That's all you need, that's all you crave.

There's at least five dead bodies pilled up right next to your car, five walkers that you've put down, and you're still on the look out for any more of them but it seems to be pretty calm out here, plus, you're not being noisy so it's quite quiet at the moment. You can hear groans in the area but they're away from you so you don't bother with them, no need to go and poke the bear... the flesh hungry and blood thirsty dead bear.

You're parked in the small town that Faith is supposed to be doing her supply run into today, which, you know, she most likely will going on even given the situation. Hell, she made it clear that she was not staying out here with you, not because she doesn't want to but because she called you on your talkie to let you know that Negan saw that you broke out of his office and he was pissed so she played dumb and told him that she didn't know where the hell you went but she told him that she'll "look for you" while she'll be out on her routine run which means that, if she doesn't want to get into some serious shit with Negan, she'll have to go back after dropping Randall off or he'll understand what went down and things might, and will, get ugly -again-.

It terrified you when she called you on your radio to tell you that he knew that you were gone, it fucking petrified you and now, you feel like he's about to pop out of nowhere at any given second. You're terrified even though Faith made it clear that she handled the situation and, yes, you do trust her with your life but the burn that Negan's hand left on your throat -because, yes, the mark on your throat turned into a mean looking burn- and the fact that your lungs are still burning up only remind you of just how far things went, how far you've let things go, how far he took this whole situation and just how dangerous this man truly can be, even to you.

The man that gave you hell, marked you as his instantly without even thinking about what the hell the aftermath of that might have been for you, dragged you around like a toy, took you for granted when he didn't even try to have a proper conversation with you, the man you've spend the last several weeks running away from but somehow always ended up running back to just to pay a ridiculously high price for it every single damn time, the man that locked you away into a small, dark cell after you opened up to him and fucking told him about your abusive mom, this fucking man... is the same fucking man that had to go as far as depriving you of oxygen until you were ready to pass out for you to realize that he's no good, not to mention that Randall took a blow that he shouldn't have ever taken and it's all because of you.

It feels like you don't even know who you are anymore, everything feels so wrong. You hate that, for every cons that you find when it comes to him, your mind immediately comes up with a pro.

but... you hate him... right? i mean... how could you not... y'know?... right?

You let out a shaky sigh, quickly wiping the single tear that dared to escape from your eye before smiling weakly, eyeing the words your friend carved into the bow he made for you, "Damn it, Dixon... Where the hell are you? I miss you... Damn, I miss Merle and his stupid face, too."

You get lost in the past for a quick second before hearing a vehicle coming your way. You decide to get out of the old car that you're in and stay crouched on the side so that you're out of sight but you can clearly see the road and what's going there.

Your shoulders drop and a relieved breath that you didn't even know you were holding makes its way past your parted lips when you recognize Faith's Jeep and actually see her stop in the middle of the road before getting out of the vehicle, softly calling your name and you decide to get out of hiding only for her to quickly aim her gun at you.

"Fucking hell! You scared the crap out of me, [y/n]. Jesus! What the hell, don't ever do that again." she exclaims, tucking her gun back into the waistband of her pants before opening her arms and stepping towards you only for you to run into her embrace, hiding your face into the crook of her neck, sobs rocking your body as you finally let your fear consume you, "Hey, shh, it's okay, baby." she coos, gently rocking you left and right, kissing the top of your head before pushing the bridge of her nose against your forehead, letting you calm down in her arms.

You slowly get out of her embrace only to see Randall standing right next to her, looking at you and your head immediately drops, afraid to see his face, afraid to see just how much damage you've caused.

Everything is silent, you can actually hear birds chirping until Randall's huge arms snake around your much smaller frame, making your ears buzz, loud sobs getting out of your mouth without your permission the second he gets close enough for his smell to surround you. You hide your face against his chest as he lifts you up and he hides his on the side of your neck, his warm tears hitting your skin only feeding your guilt and sadness.

"What the hell did he do to you, baby?" he asks against your skin with a sob and your grip on him gets tighter, both your hands grabbing the back of his neck to keep him as close as possible.

"No-not nearly-nearly enough." you sob out, shaking in his arms as you break under all the pressure you've been put under these past few weeks.

Randall immediately pulls away from you before firmly grabbing your face with both of his hands, forcing you to look straight at him. He doesn't say a word, he doesn't need to; his body speaks for him.

His brows are furrowed, his jaw is clenched, his shoulders are clearly tensed and his teary eyes are piercing holes into yours but you can't look away, no matter how hard you try and want to.

"Y'think this is your fucking fault, uh?" he asks, his voice even more scruffy than it normally is, "Y'really believe that I'm holding a grudge, don't ya." he states, clearly not looking for an answer since he already knows all about it anyway, "He told me-" he pauses and gets closer to you, his mouth right next to your right ear to keep Faith from hearing what he's about to tell you, "He told me that he had you squirming beneath him the night before and I lost my shit. I fucking punched him, baby. That's why I got my ass beat up, not 'cause of you, we clear?" he asks, pulling away from your ear only to push his forehead against yours to closely look at you as you softly nod your head, silently agreeing to his words, "What d'he do to you, baby? What the hell happened, uh? Why the fuck is there a burned-in hand print on your throat and why the hell are there cuts on your cheek?" he asks as a single tear rolls down his cheek but you catch it with your thumb before it can go any further down his face.

negan fucking told him about what he did to you the night before? what the fuck?... what did he even fucking do to you, actually?


"Excuse me?" Faith interrupts, clearly angered by that specific word coming out of your mouth, "Sweetheart, did he fucking raise that stupid fucking bat on you?" she asks, clearly panicked, worried and angered.

"N-no. He-he just-just- Y-you know- Just gra-graced my chee-cheek with the-the wire and he-he- Well, he cho-choked me."

She's about to say something when her talkie starts to buzz, indicating her that someone is trying to join her. She picks it up, silently asking you and Randall to stay really quiet, "What's up?" she casually asks, impressing you with her easiness as she was clearly fuming only a second ago.

"Anything? Or am I gonna have to fucking go get her the fuck back home by my goddamn self, Faith?" you hear Negan's voice bark through the talkie-walkie, panic rushing into your veins again but Randall is quick to take you into his arms to calm you down.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now, Negan? I literally just parked for fuck's sake! I fucking told you that I'll look for her and I fucking will."

"Whatever, just do your fucking job and don't fucking forget who the fuck you work for, Fa-" he doesn't get to finish his sentence as Faith spits a mean "Fuck you, Negan." at him before dropping the radio on the concrete beneath her, anger running through her veins.

She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose before kicking the radio away from her, all the noises attracting walkers around the area, "Fucking asshole." she spits bitterly.

"W-why go back?" you shyly ask, getting out of Randall's arms, Faith turning her attention to you, confused by your question, "Why go back there, Faith? You-you could stay here, with us, we-we'd take care of each other, we would."

"Honey, I already explained it to you, I-" she gives you a sad smile, "Listen, it's okay, alright? Believe me, I need to be back at the Sanctuary or Negan'll get a grip on you two way too quickly and I want to give you two time to actually put some real distance between you, him and his fucking dogs." she grabs your face and kisses the tip of your nose, "He ain't shit to me, sweetheart. Hell, you better believe that I'm not about to let a goddamn man tell me what the fuck do to and you shouldn't either." she looks at Randall then back at you before flashing you the same sad smile, "You two should go before I change my mind though." she finishes with a smile on her face but tears in her deep brown eyes, quickly wiping away the single one rolling down her cheek.

It breaks your heart to see actual tears in her eyes, you've never seen her cry before and, now that you have, you can officially say that; you fucking hate it.

"Here." you start, heading to the car you drove here in before running back to Faith and handing her a radio and a small piece of paper where you've wrote the channel that your radio is on, "Found those while I was waiting for you guys, it has some seriously badass range too so, I t-took it... I hope that's okay with you, Faith? Since, y'know, you're s-supposed to bring ev-everything back to him and-"

"He can't be pissed about what he doesn't even know exists, honey." she says with a smile, taking the radio from you and putting the piece of paper into her jeans before winking at you, making you smile, "Damn it, I'm gonna miss you, princess." she says in a whisper, clearly trying not to cry, before taking you into her arms and you softly kiss her cheek.

"Please- Don't go, please?" you cry into her neck, clearly not willing to just let go of her.

You thought that giving her that damn radio, knowing that she'll have it with her, would actually reassure you, help you let go, but it didn't, not at all. It's hard and it hurts so bad, it almost makes you regret ever meeting her. She softly calls Randall over and you feel them hugging even though you're still into Faith arms, firmly holding on to her until Randall's hands gently pull you away from her making you sob out loud as you feel your body losing touch with hers.

"Wa-wait, please-"

"Honey, it's okay." she gives you a small, teary smile, seeing you cry and struggle for her making her heart drop in her chest, "It's okay, pretty girl." she whispers to you as Randall reassuringly keeps you against his chest.

"No! No, it's not okay, Faith." you snap, wanting nothing but for her to come along and start over with you like she deserves to.

"Yes, it fucking is, [y/n], and I'm not arguing with you! Just get in the fucking car and leave, okay?" she sharply orders, trying to sound angry but there's tears rolling down her face and you can see that she's pretty much breaking right now, "P-please, sweetheart, just- Just go, please. We'll see each other again, I promise, we can- How about that," she takes a deep breathe to steady her voice, "I'll radio you every time that I'm out all by myself and we'll hang out, yeah?"

"Y-you mean it?"

"Of course, I do, [y/n]." she says with a smile before walking back to you and kissing your forehead, "I don't want you to think that this is me abandoning you, okay, baby? 'Cause it isn't. This is me doing what's right for the people that I care about, no matter how much it fucking hurts, 'cause that's what you do when you love someone, alright? You do whatever it takes to keep them safe, no matter how much it costs you. But this isn't me saying goodbye, [y/n]. We will see each other again, as often as possible, that's what I want, how about you?"

"O-okay, yes." you look at her, getting out of Randall's arms just to hug her tightly one last time, "Thank you, for everything. I love you."

"Thanks to you too, [y/n]. I love you, take care of yourself for me, yeah?"

"Promise. You too, for me."

"Promise." she says before kissing your temple and quickly hugging Randall, saying goodbye to him as well before bringing her attention back to her Jeep, trying not to break down as both you and the tattooed man get inside the car you've found and drive away from your rendez-vous point.

She brings her attention to the radio that you've handed to her, smiling down at it, "This fucking sucks." she whispers, carefully putting the walkie in the glove-box of her car before getting down to business with her supply run.





5:15 PM // 

You and Randall have been driving for three hours straight, switching turns behind the wheel every hour to get some rest and to actually take the time to explore whatever area you stopped in. 

Things are actually going pretty good, you're really low on fuel but the little supply runs you've been doing at every stop almost filled the trunk of your vehicle with supplies and the fact that you've done that all by yourself really makes you proud. You get out on your own since you literally threatened Randall to break both of his legs if he doesn't stay put and wait for you in the car.

You feel horrible about his wounds. They're really bad, his face is all bloody and bruised, his bottom lip is busted and his left brow is now decorated with a sharp, deep cut at the tail, right on his brow bone, but the real damages are on his body. There's some terrifying looking bruises on his ribcage and all over his stomach, even his tattoos aren't able to hide the bruised skin and you're afraid that he might have a broken rib or four and, good God, you wouldn't wish that upon your worst enemy, that shit hurts like hell, especially nowadays, when you don't have a freaking surgeon to actually operate on you like they're supposed to when you have a freaking broken bone.

There's some really crappy country music C.D playing softly in the car since all there is on the radio is a broadcasts for emergency telling you that everything is under control and that you must get to the Atlanta safe zone and blah blah blah. You and Randall almost went mental when you heard that robotic sounding lady talking on repeat on every single damn stations.

"Talk to me, [y/n], please?" Randall pleads whilst looking at you from the passenger seat.

"What d'you want me to say, Randall? Uh? I fucked up, alright? I always do, I fuck up and then the people I care about get hurt because of my stupidity, that's why I always stay by myself 'cause that-" you say, pointing at his bruised face, "That's what I fucking do, that's what happens!" you snap and the car literally breaks down on you just as you finish your sentence, making you groan in frustration, "Fuck's sake!"

"[Y/n]." Randall softly says, trying to get your attention but you keep on banging your head against the wheel, "[Y/n]!" he tries again, his voice raised, and he actually catches your attention this time around, "Baby, stop it-" he starts, looking at you, and he lets out a soft sigh when he spots tears running down your face.

"I'm sorry, Randall. I'm sorry, I really am." you softly whisper, letting your head fall on its left side against the wheel so that you're now directly looking at Randall, "Everything is just so- Messed up, it's all broken and it hurts so bad 'cause I rea-really tried and n-now it's all- it's all gone and it's-it's all my fault. I did this do you. S'my fault. I can't st-stand myself anymore, I hate who I've become and I hate what I feel, I hate-"

"Negan." Randall cuts you off, carefully taking your shaking right hand into his, "You hate Negan, sweet pea. All that anger you feel? S'normal and it's fucking healthy too, but only if you let yourself feel it, alright? Your emotions? They ain't here to burden you, [y/n], they're here to be let you know that someone's crossed a line and disrespected your boundaries and they need to be heard and acknowledged. Once you do, they'll go the fuck away, 'cause that's all they want, for you to acknowledge them. And, I swear to God, when you"ll finally get there, you'll see that they're not as scary as people make them out to be, baby."

"S'not all a-about Ne-Negan, it's-" you look at him, silently asking him if you should actually go ahead and speak about what hurts you so badly and he squeezes your hand in return, "I- We never-" you let out an heavy sigh, forcing a smile as a tear rolls down your face right into the leather covering the wheel of the car, "I can't stop- I can't stop thinking about what happened with-with Jason, it just never l-leaves my mind, Randall."

"No shit, you do, sweet pea." he says quickly after, clearly not surprised, "No one ever took the goddamn time to talk to you about it. Hell, when you did get some time off to heal from that shit, uh? Connor- Connor wanted to talk to you about it, he was angry, he knew something was up but we weren't sure... Sweet pea, what the hell did this piece of shit did to you?"

"Tha-that's the thing, Randall, I don't want to-to talk a-about it, I don't f-feel ready ye-yet but it hurts to k-keep it in, too."

"Well, baby, you know that I'll never force anything on you so, take your time with it but, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on? Just know that I'm right here and I'm not here to judge you, [y/n], I promise." you shyly bring the hand he's holding yours in to your mouth and leave a soft kiss on Randall's bloody knuckles, making him smile at the softness behind the gesture, "We're gonna fine, sweet pea. I know we will."

famous last words...

"We can only hope, right?" you quietly answer, gently dropping his hands and slipping yours out of his hold before opening the door of the car and getting out, "Wait here, I'm gonna see if I can find any fuel in those cars." you say, nodding your head towards the abandoned cars lingering on the quiet road, "Plus, it's your turn to take the wheel, Chicago boy, don't think that you can play me."

"But, I'm wooooounded." he whines playfully, silently hoping that you won't actually take his words as a way to guilt trip you.

"Poor thing." you sarcastically coo before grabbing your bow laying in the backseats of the car and heading towards old, rusty cars, leaving Randall to laugh at your sarcasm.





6:33 PM //

One last body falls limp on the floor and you drag it outside with the four others, pilling them on top of each other to burn them later on, Randall watching your every move as he also keeps an eye out for any more walkers but you two seem to be in the clear for now.

"You should've let me help, [y/n]." he argues, eyes scanning your every move.

"M'fine, Chicago boy. If you wanna help so bad then, help me bring our supplies inside the house, big boy." you teasingly say, playfully pinching his right cheek as you walk passed him to get to the car parked right in front of the big farm house you two found.

"You're the worst, friends are supposed to kill things together, not move shit around, s'boring."

"Friends are supposed to help other friends move and no, Randall, friends are not supposed to kill together, what the hell? That's messed up." you say as you carry three huge boxes filled with supplies inside the house, not even able to see where the hell you're going since the boxes are pilled on top of each other and, well, you're not that freaking tall much to your dismay.

"Need help there, girl?" Randall teases as he gets passed you, carrying the four other boxes that were left in the car inside.

"I'll trip you, don't try me." you say with a laugh as you both start to race to the house with boxes in your arms.

"Y'know, we could just get inside one after the other, sweet pea, no one has to get hurt."

"Pff, yeah, right. There can only be one, Chicago boy." you say as you quickly squeeze past him and inside the house, carefully dropping the boxes on the floor before smiling cockily at him, proud of yourself for beating him after he teased you, "Need help there, boy?" you tease as he finally gets inside and closes the front door with his feet before dropping the boxes on the floor and actually clapping softly, making you bow playfully in front of him.

"You kicked my ass, I'll take it. Bravo, you lil' shit."

"Thank you, papa bear."

"Hey, I thought we agreed on never using that name... Hell, now that you actually say it out of nowhere like that, you're right, it does sound like the name of a really pissed off inmate."

"Right?!" you exclaim with a small giggle, making Randall chuckle, "Alright, now what?" you shyly ask, looking around the huge house you two just found.

"Well... I guess we can go and pick a bedroom to sleep and get settled in, right? Damn," he starts, scratching his neck, "this is so fucking weird." he whispers, looking around him with a smile on his face.

"A-A good weird or-"

"Oh, no, definitely an amazing weird... Man, it just feels so fucking right, y'know?" he says, looking at you, still wearing a big smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, it does."

You two stay silent for what feels like hours but really only a few seconds have passed by when you drop your head, your cheeks a bright red as you're not used nor comfortable with eye contact, "I uh- Before we do that though, le-let me fix you up, alright?"

"Sure, sweet pea."

You fetch medical supplies out of one of the boxes before joining Randall on the enormous couch sitting in the middle of the living room, right in front of a huge chimney. You sit down next to him, you're both siting sideways on the comfortable furniture, Randall has his right leg folded up on the couch and his left one down, his left feet firmly planted on the wooden planks covering the floor as you're sitting leg-crossed, the two of you facing each other.

"Alright, I'm gonna clean up your face and disinfect your wounds... It might hurt like a bitch though, since, you know, these are fresh, open wounds... Just so you know."

"I think I'll live." he says with a small smile, kissing your forehead before letting you do your thing.

You gently wash away the blood on his face and carefully clean up his wounds with pure alcohol, making him wince a couple of times but he always reassures you that he's okay and, finally, you stitch up the cut on his brow bone and take one last look at his lip, making sure that he doesn't need any stitches there as well but the lip seems to have stopped bleeding and is now slowly bruising, you're just happy that it didn't tear or anything too bad.

"Here ya go." you exclaim, putting the dirty, used, sterile cloths that you've used to clean his face with away before sitting back right in front of him, "All cleaned up." you whisper with a smile, happy to see his face without blood on it even though there still is bruises and wounds cutting through the his skin.

"Thanks, sweet pea. Now let me take care of you, alright? You go get settled and whatnot while I'll secure the windows and all the rest, yeah? Just, let me do this one thing, baby, you've done everything today. Now, s'time for you to rest."

"Thank you, Randall." you softly lunch forward to hug him and he carefully catches you before laying down on the couch so you're now laying on top of him, the two of you giggling like kids, "Randall, I'm gonna hurt you. Let me go."

"How the hell are you going to hurt me, exactly, sweet pea?" he asks with a frown.

"I'm freaking crushing you, you idiot!" you protest and try to push yourself off of him again but his hands keep you in place and your efforts are fruitless.

"Are you kidding me? You weight nothing to me, [y/n]."

You ignore him and carefully get off of him before walking to the front door where the boxes of supplies are still waiting to be picked up and put away. Looking through them to get some shampoo and shower gel out, a set of pajamas and a towel, you head up to the first floor where you've seen a bathroom while you were cleaning the house up and -and that's really a freaking plus- you actually were able to fix the shower pipe to bring hot water back, too.

thank fuck the owners actually had their own resources, i love farm people. 





10:00 PM //

There's three bedroom in this house, three freaking bedroom, yet, somehow, you and Randall ended up in the same one and you're now building a fort out of sheets, blankets and a scary amount of pillows... Okay, yes, it was your idea but the fact that Randall actually supported it a hundred percent only made it all go to being cute to bordering on insanity and you're now building a freaking house inside a house... You love it.

What happened is that; you two found a bedroom with a huge bed placed right in the top right corner of the room, a huge dresser made out of wood being right at the bed's foot, completely keeping anyone from seeing the damn bed in the first place and it created this super cozy feeling when you got on the bed, it felt like a safe little space with a seriously comfortable mattress as ground and, well, you both had the same damn idea at the same damn time which is what created this madness but, goddamn, you love how it turned out.

So, now, here you both are; Randall only wearing a pair of pajama pants and you in a pair of white pajama shorts, a simple black t-shirt covering your upper body, eating noodles because you both were way too tired to actually cook anything else, hiding away inside your bed-turned-fort, clearly trying to decide who can make the most disgusting, obnoxious noises whilst eating and, so far, you're winning.

"You're fucking gross, sweet pea." Randall says with a chuckle.

"You're gross."

"Yeah, I am, but this isn't about me right now, young lady." he points out, wiggling his fork at you as he speaks.

You giggle and can't help but get giddy when you think about the fact that Randall actually thought about your claustrophobia and took it in consideration when he decided to put blankets above your head to make your little fort, which is why he actually put them only a few centimeters away from the ceiling, making sure that there's a whole lot of space above your little head and you really, really, appreciate it.

You both finish your meal and Randall snakes his arm underneath the blankets serving as walls for your fort to put your plates down on the bedroom's floor before laying back down next to you on the thick mattress.

The two of you are silently starring at the blanket floating above your heads, your hands nervously playing with the hem of your t-shirt, "Wh-" you start but quickly stop before asking questions you're not sure you want answers to.

"What is it, baby? Go ahead, talk to me." Randall says, keeping his eyes on the blanket above your heads, hiding the ceiling.

"Wha-what did Negan say to you e-exactly?" you ask, immediately regretting it.

"Well," he starts, letting out a deep sigh before sitting down, making you do so as well, "I was heading to the cafeteria to take my breakfast with you when I ran into him and, of course, he looked pissed so I asked him what was going on and he shot me one of his super irritating cocky looks so, y'know, I was like "fuck it" and I kept walking but he told me that he was looking for you. That he already knew that you'd slept in my room with me that night so I told him to piss off and then, well, he basically just- Fuck, he basically told me that- That now matter how hard I try, I'll never be able to make you happy or to keep you for too long 'cause you'll always end up running back to him and, well, when I asked him why that would ever be a thing he-" he audibly swallows, prompting you to do the same, before looking at you as he keeps going, "He literally told me that he- Fucking hell- He told me that he ate you out the night before and, goddamn, the smirk on his fucking face just- It just set me off and, before I could do anything about it, I punched him and he dragged me to the compound to beat the holy fuck out of me."

well, that's fucked up... fuck you too, negan. what the hell is wrong with this man.

"He's wrong." you say barely above a whisper before looking at Randall, examining the stitched up cut on his brow.

"No, he's not, I mean, he is about one thing and it's that you'll always go crawling back to him 'cause, hell, you never fucking did no matter how much you actually believe that you did, you never did crawl back to him, [y/n] but... Damn, he's right when it comes to me though, sweet pea. I don't know how to keep someone, I don't fucking know what the hell I'm supposed to do 'cause, y'know, I clearly did something wrong in my previous relationship and-"

"She cheated on you, Randall, you didn't do a damn thing wrong, just stop. It's not your fault, it just isn't."

"Why's it so easy for you to be kind to people, to recomfort them, when you're so fucking horrible to yourself, sweet pea? Why d'you mistreat yourself like that? You deserve so much better than this shit." he looks at you and carefully puts his right hand on your face, his thumb gently caressing your skin, "Randall gets beat up? S'my fucking fault. Things get difficult? Well shit, s'my fucking fault too. People are nothing but pure shit? My fucking fault as well. You need to stop, baby, you don't deserve this, you don't." he pauses and carefully makes you look up at him, "Your father did not die because of you, [y/n]. Yes, you survived and he didn't and, yes, you were in the same damn car but it wasn't your fault, alright? You didn't fucking stab him, baby, it's called an accident for a reason."

"B-but if- if I didn't get a p-panic attack at school he-he wouldn't have had to come p-pick me up and he-he wouldn't h-have been wo-worried about me o-on the ride back and-and he would have con-concentrated on the road a-and not on m-me instead and-"

"I killed my mom." he quietly says, making you look up at him, confusion and sadness drowning your eyes, "If that's you killing your dad then I guess that my old man was right and I did kill my mother, baby." he says with a small smile.

"Wha-what are you talking about? What happened?" you whisper as if someone might be listening and you need to keep it down.

"My mama died at the exact same time my lungs opened, she just- She didn't pull through and my dad fucking hated me for- Well, being born, y'know?"

"But-But that's not-"

"Not my fault? You sure about that?"

"Randall, p-please-"

"Baby, I was raised by a man that didn't even fucking name me. The nurses at the hospital had to name me, a nice nurse named Maria actually gave me my name." he pauses and lets out a small, dry chuckle, "My dad? He fucking hated me and he never missed an opportunity to remind me of it. I grew up to become a little piece of shit that knew nothing but to shove his fists down people's throat, I hated everyone and I was no exception, [y/n]. My dad used to beat me until, one day, I ended up fighting back and kicked his drunk ass. The only thing that saved me, that actually helped me turn my life around, was when I discovered tattoos and that I could actually draw like no one else I knew could, it's so stupid when you think about it... Some ink and a needle fucking saved me from becoming a monstrous piece of shit."

"I-I would have hated everyone too if-if I would have go-go through-"

"You did, sweet pea, you fucking did. And you've pulled through without changing your angelic ways, I'm sure of it."

"I-I just- I guess I never saw the point o-of being violent, y'know? To me, s'like feeding fire with gasoline."

"It is, it really fucking is, baby." he pauses and gently pulls you into his arms one again, his hand softly running through your hair, "It took so long for me to finally realize that I did not kill my mother, I was just a fucking baby for fuck's sake, and, y'know..." he lets out a sigh, a lot clearly going through his mind at the moment, "Shit, turned out that my mama wasn't able to pull through with my birth because people later found out that my dad was fucking abusing her. He got arrested and, hell, my mom? She actually- fuck, she'd actually plan to run off with me and it fucking sickens that she didn't have that opportunity, I fucking miss her. How can I miss someone that I never fucking knew, [y/n]? I don't fucking get it."

"She was your mother, Randall." you start, getting out of the crook of his neck to push the tip of your nose against his, "She was your home for nine months, you're bound to love your mother not matter how little you know about her. Hell, look at me, I loved my mom, and for what, uh? She was terrible to me but, y'know, she was my mom and I loved her, I still do."

"She doesn't deserve your love, just so you know."

"Oh yeah?" you start with a small smile, making him chuckle, "Then who does, Chicago boy?"

"No one fucking does, baby."

"You're so negative, it breaks my poor little heart." you say with a mocked pout and a giggle.

"We're gonna have to do something about those broken pieces of yours, sweet pea, and I'm all here for you if you need help figuring shit out. Y'know that, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. I'm here for you too, always, but-" you stop, unsure if you should go on or not but Randall silently tells you that it's okay for you to keep going with a simple look, "It's just that... I'm not sure if I want to be fixed, y-you know?"

"Why not, [y/n]?"

"W-well, it's hard to br-break what's al-already broken, right?"

"Yeah, I know, that shit scares me too, baby." he quietly admits and you swear that you can feel his breath fully hitting your lips, making your tongue stick out on its own, his eyes glued to your now wet lips, "It scares the hell out of me when I think about just how fucking fast I grew attached to you."

"I know, it scares me too. S'why I try not to overthink it, I'm kinda sick of always overthinking everything." you let out a small sigh when Randall bits his bottom lip, wincing in pain as he clearly forgot about his bruises, making you laugh a little.

"Are you laughing at me? Are you for real, right now? How dare you?"

"Yeah, m'laughing at ya. What'ya gonna do about it, Chicago boy? You wanna fight about it, that it?"

"Damn," he starts with a genuine laugh, "y'know what? That's not I actually imagined our first date, baby, but, damn, I'm not complaining. The fort, noodle, deep talks and threats, looove it."

"Shut your mouth." you giggle, your cheeks starting to burn again, "You actually pictured a date with me? That's chessy."

"Yeah, I know, but I don't really give a shit if I'm being honest." he says with a smile on his face as he carefully examines the black rose he tattooed on your left thumb a few days ago, "Me tattooing you, check. Building a super cool fort together, fucking check. Talking about personal shit without feeling judged, check and then, we won't talk about the rest of the list 'cause I don't want to traumatize you, baby."

"Y'know, I've spend enough time around Negan to understand that, when a man says that he'll stop there, it's because what happens next is sexual."

"Aaaaw! She's growing." Randall mocks with a smirk, making you blush, "Aw, you're burning up, baby. M'sorry, I didn't m-"

You cut him off when you finally let your lips crash against his, his eyes almost popping out of their socket when he feels your lips on his but he quickly pulls himself together and, much to your surprise, he starts to become way more dominant than you ever thought he'll be.

He actually pushes you down on the mattress of the bed, one of his hand holding your hip whilst the other is resting on one of your cheeks, holding your face as he deepens the kiss. He waited way too long for this kiss to happen to just let go of you so easily., he doesn't want to let go, he can't.

You both never realized just how needed this was until now, now that you're both relaxing against one another and fighting your need for air just to keep the kiss going. It's like you're both addicted and it only took a few seconds. He tastes different than Negan does but you love it and, to him, you taste like his new favorite meal and he's not about to let go of it 'cause he's been starving for months.

You don't even realize that your hands are moving until one finds Randall's hair to undo the bun sitting on top of his head whilst the other is creeping along his chest, touching every bit of skin it can get to, making the tattooed man groan into your mouth and you can't help but to softly bit down on his swollen bottom lip, careful not to hurt him and he seems to enjoy that, a low grunt leaving his mouth the second your teeth let go of the fleshy lip to let it bounce back into place.

"Did I hurt you?" you whisper against his lips, keeping your hand into his hair to keep him close to you.

"Nah, baby Hell, you could fucking stab me and I'd still be into you."

"Want me to get my knife? S'right below my pillow." you tease, making him chuckle.

"Damn, [y/n], I'm supposed to be the kinky one here, you can't out-kink me."

"What's that mean?" you ask and he finds himself facing the you that he's used to, the one he loves so fucking much, the innocent girl that won't hesitate to kick you in the nuts if you piss her off, no matter how harmless she looks.

"You've got time to find out and I got a shit load of time to teach ya, baby." he says with a smirk before going right back to kissing your lips.

And it starts all over again. At first, it's sweet, he wants to make sure that you're comfortable and okay with what's happening, but then, when he sees that you are, it turns into the sloppiest, on the edge of hungry and angry kiss there is and you kind of love it a whole lot.

You don't know what the hell's gotten into you but, what you do know is that; it feels right. Being in his arms feels right, him touching you feels right, you touching him feels right, the two of you being here, together feels fucking right and it's being a long, long time since being alive felt so goddamn right to you so, right now, you're not willing to question anything, you just want to take it all in and let it be.

It's new and new has always been scary to you but you know that you needed it, you needed new. Hell, you needed to go back to you and, yes, you do think about Faith and even Laihla but, you don't regret being here, you don't regret leaving the Sanctuary. You don't regret him.

you sure about that?

Chapter Text

1:00 AM //

Goosebumps are covering your skin as you look out the window of the living room of the old farmhouse you've found safety in, your body missing Randall's body heat as you've spend the night sleeping curled into his chest, you've spot a few walkers roaming aimlessly in the fields surrounding the area but you're not too worried about them, you just have to be quiet and stay in the dark not to get their attention and that'll be that.

Your hands are softly rubbing up and down your bare arms, trying to provide some warmth to you but it doesn't seem to be doing it for you. Letting out a deep sigh, you walk away from the giant window of the living room and make your way up the stairs to silently reach the bathroom of the house, careful not to wake Randall up in the process.

You softly close the door behind him, cringing when it ever-so-slightly creaks, and turn the light on, blinding yourself with the sudden brightness but your eyes quickly adjust to it once you've given them a rub.

You didn't end up having sex with Randall and you're glad that that's how it happened but, part of you feels like he might be upset about it even though he didn't even suggest it nor make a move suggesting that he wanted what was happening between you two to head that direction As a matter of fact, he simply gave you one last gentle kiss and lied down next to you before making chit-chat with a grin plastered on his face as he kept looking over your face, and you didn't feel anything but happiness in the moment but, after you both feel asleep, you eventually woke up in the middle of the night, realized that you've had found your way back against his body, and looked up at him only to feel guilt out of nowhere so you decided to sneak out to take some air.

You look at your reflection in the mirror sitting above the sink right in front of you; your eyes are all puffy, your nose is red, the skin below your nostrils red and raw from it running, and your cheeks are a deep crimson red. You're exhausted, you need to sleep but you can't, your anxiety is making damn sure of it.

For some reason, he's in your mind. He's all over it, actually. You can almost hear the bastard's voice and it's starting to seriously get to you which you don't much care for if you're being honest.

You take a closer look at your face and gently trace the cuts Lucille left on the delicate skin of your cheek which don't look too bad and are already closed and you can only hope that, for once, you won't be left with scars to remember. Looking at your messy hair, you find yourself blinding reaching for a pair of scissors you remember being in the drawer right below the sink, and start cutting into the thick mass of hair, letting them fall on the cold tiled floor beneath you, some hitting your bare feet.

You carefully put the scissors down before eyeing the hair clipper laying on the counter top right next to the sink like it's taunting you and you take it, turn it on and start to clean the sides of your head, shortening the sides and the back put letting a fair amount of hair on top of your head, long enough that they're still long enough to fall right in front of your eyes if you push them to the front.

The door of the bathroom opens, making you jump and you silently thank whatever God that the blades of the clipper weren't actually working on your hair when Randall opened the damned door because, otherwise, right now, you'd have a huge bold stripe going from the back of your head to the front and, good God, you already have enough fucking problems without fucking up your haircut.

"Sorry," he whispers whilst taking a look at your new haircut, "I didn't mean to scare ya, sweet pea. I totally love the new look though... If, like, that can help my case."

"Thanks." you shyly whisper back before looking at him and handing him the clipper, "Could you-could you get the back, pl-please?"

"F'course, baby." he says with a smile as he takes the clipper from you with a small smile before getting right behind you, one of his hands gently pushing your head down to get free access to the already shortened hair on your neck and up to the middle of your head , "I just trim it, right? Or, like, do you want it completely shaved off?"

"N-no, just-just buzz it a little bit, please."

"Alright, sweet pea. Stay still, yeah?" he softly demands before gently starting to trim the hair on the back of your head some more, it only takes him a few seconds to finish and, when he does, he can't help but run his hand through your freshly cut hair, loving the way it starts so short and gets longer the higher his hand gets on your skull, "Look up, baby." he says with a smile, telling you to look at yourself and, when you do, you let out a small giggle, running a hand into your top to push them up and out of your eyes.

"It's feels so weird" you whisper as you run a curious hand on the freshly buzzed sides of your head and then the back of your head, "b-but, I dunno- I really like it, y'know?" you admit with a small smile, looking at your now completely bare ears and feeling the cold air of the room hitting your naked neck.

"Yeah, you look really good, sweet pea. But, I mean- Why the new haircut at two in the morning, [y/n]?" he asks, sitting down behind you on the edge of the bathtub in the bathroom.

"I-" you start before lifting yourself up to sit on the sink, pushing your back against the big mirror on the wall behind you and letting your legs dangle down, "S'just that-that- Damn it, I felt bad, alright? I felt bad because-because-" you let out a shaky breath, your hands shaking as you nervously pull on the hem of your tank top, "I felt bad because we-we didn't- You know, we- I didn't- And-and I thought that- I don't want you t-to be mad at me and-"

didn't answer his question there, girl...

"[Y/n]." Randall softly interrupts, making you look up at him, "[Y/n], baby, I'm not fucking mad at you, what the hell." he stands up and walks back towards you before settling right between your parted legs, his hands on either side of your thighs, his thumbs drawing gently circles on the full flesh in a soothing gesture, "You feel bad because we didn't have sex? You feel bad because you thought that I was mad at you because of that?" you quickly nod your head yes, still looking down at your hands until one of his hands leaves your thigh and comes down on your cheek to gently pull your head up for you to look at him, "That shit was so far away from being in my mind, [y/n]. When I was kissing you? I wasn't thinking about taking things any further, I'm not stupid y'know? I could feel you tensing up, that's why I shut it all down, I don't want you to feel forced of anything when it comes to me or, hell, anyone, never. I would never, ever, pressure you into anything. That's fucked up and, fuck no, I would never be fucking mad at ya just because you're not ready for that kind of shit yet. You have to go with your guts and if you don't feel ready for that? S'perfectly fine, I'm a grown ass man, baby. I get it and, most importantly, I completely respect it, always. You've got nothing to be afraid of when it comes to me and especially when it comes to your sexuality and me breaking that kind of boundary, fuck that."

"S-so you-you're not mad?"

"Of course not, [y/n]." he says with a small chuckle before pressing a gently kiss to your forehead, "We should go back to sleep though, baby. It's still late and we should really turn off the lights." he finishes, taking a quick peak through the small window in the bathroom.

"Y-yeah, I could u-use some sleep anyway." you admit before jumping off the sink and running out of the small bathroom, Randall turning the light off behind you before closing the door and getting back to your shared bedroom, holding your hand reassuringly on the way.

The second you pass the threshold of the bedroom, you run back into your little improvised fort before crawling back underneath the warm blankets on the bed, purring when your head hits your pillow, Randall softly chuckling at your antics before getting underneath the blankets with you and immediately turning on his side to look at you to find you looking right back at him with a small smile and a blush on your cheeks.

"I'm really digging that new haircut you got going on, really suits you." he whispers, his eyes roaming all over your face.

"Th-thank you." you whisper back, absently biting down on your bottom lip in thought when you realize just how unfamiliar you are with those kind of words and it really hurts you. Not being able to take compliments isn't cute or witty, it actually really fuck hurts and it cuts deep every single time.

"You're welcome, baby."

what do you keep thinking about him? what the hell is going on with you?

You frown slightly before shutting your thoughts off and gently crawling back to Randall. Reaching out for him, you leave a shy kiss on his lips before curling into his chest, kissing a few tattoos here and there before tracing them with your very fingertips, calming yourself down as he gently runs his hand through your freshly cut hair, hushing you and, eventually, his presence, his body heat and his voice end up lulling you to sleep in his arms, Randall following behind.





SANCTUARY // 2:20 AM //

Negan is sitting there, looking outside the fence, wandering why the fuck he doesn't feel any better after spending his whole goddamn night fucking his so-called wives; he doesn't get it.

He didn't get any satisfaction out of it, at all, he doesn't feel any better and to makes it all shittier because now, he feels guilty as all hell because he can't stop thinking about how much it would hurt you if you ever find out that he just had sex with five different women in the same night, the sixth one not being included only because she actually still hangs on to her values and has an actually fully functioning brain in her head.

"You're a fucking pig, Negan, y'know that?" Faith barks out behind him, peaking his attention.

"Excuse me?" he asks with mocked shock on his features, turning around with a cocky smirk to make any trace of guilt or shame completely invisible but Faith isn't having any of his shit, not tonight.

"I was guarding the door to your fucking headquarters tonight, you fucking moron!"

"Then why the fuck weren't you there when I got out?"

"Because the noises your- things were making made me wanna puke so I fucking left." she narrows her eyes and steps closer to the leader of the Saviors, "What the hell are you playing at, Negan? And who the fuck are you trying to fool, exactly?"

"Aw, you're so cute. Thinking you can read me like a fucking open book. Try again, sweetheart."

"Oh, so I'm just misreading shit, uh?"

"Yeah, learn how to fucking read, girly." he teases, knowing damn well that Faith cannot stand men using pet names on her.

"Alright then." she starts, a vicious smirk appearing on her full lips, "Then I guess that you're not pissed about [y/n], your precious lil princess, being gone, out there all by herself and- Oh my God, I guess that you're also not pissed about how fucking pathetic it is that you actually went to five different women and that none of them could get you off. I guess you have even less dignity and decency than I previously thought you did, Negan."

"Faith, shut your goddamn mouth before I do something I re-"

"And, I guess that I also got it wrong if I say that I know for a fact that you're fucking terrified at the idea of her being happy without you? That you're not afraid of the fact that she doesn't fucking need you or anything you claim you have to offer her?" Faith taunts, knowing she got it all right, before looking Negan up and down in a disgusted fashion, "You don't have shit to offer her, Negan, because she doesn't want superficial things. She doesn't want polish on her nails, makeup on her face and jewelry covering her entire goddamn body, hell, m'pretty sure that she never wanted those things even before all this shit went down. But, yeah, I guess you're right, I might have to start learning how to fucking read, Negan."

"Things fucking changed, Faith. It ain't like it fucking used to be." Negan says, his voice low, making Faith turn back around, her arms crossed across her chest.

"No, Negan, ain't shit changed but people. The only thing that truly changed is the fact that fucking dead people get back up, that's it, period. People didn't change, cut the "you have to evolve with the world that surrounds you" bullshit become that's exactly what it is; bullshit! You people didn't change, you're just finally being yourselves and you're fucking ugly, all of you."

"D'you think your dau-"

"Don't!" she firmly cuts him, her jaw tightly clenched, "Don't you bring her into this, Negan. As a matter of fact, don't talk about her, ever. Don't say her name and don't you fucking dare use her as a fucking shield, you fucking coward!" Faith snarls, quickly turning around before walking away from Negan and walking through the compound to get back to her bedroom, anger making her blood boil in her veins.

The second her door closes, she realizes just how alone she is now that both you and Randall are gone and that Connor is dead. She's never really felt lonely - Actually, yes, she has. It's just that she's never let it take over, she's never let herself feel it, ever. She's so afraid of that feeling but she knows; she knows it's there, it never fucking leaves her sides.

She takes her clothes off and slips into an old t-shirt before crawling in her bed, swiftly pushing her hand beneath the plushy pillow laying on the mattress to pull the walkie-talkie you gave her just yesterday out and hugs it close to her, hiding it beneath the blanket just in case, before falling deeply asleep, old memories coming back to pock at her wounds.

Meanwhile, Negan is violently swinging Lucille around, bashing a few of the walkers' guarding the place heads in, stopping himself before he puts them all down as the men working the night shift look from afar, wondering what the hell's got into him but also too scared to question his behavior so they just let him do his thing like they always do.





6:00 AM //

You wake up for the fourth time this night and decide that, this time; it's time for you to get up and get around to getting shit done. You're sick of falling asleep just to wake up an hour later over and over again for no apparent goddamn reason.

Quietly, you get out of the warm bed, trying your best not to wake Randall up as he's still sleeping like a baby next to you, before leaving the bedroom just as quietly. You softly close the door of the room, not making it click shut just in case it might be enough to wake the ex-tattoo artist and head downstairs, unsure of what to do next.

You look around the place, look outside through the windows and end up boiling yourself some water to make some tea, examining every single picture of the previous owners that you lay your eyes on while the water boils.

"They all look so happy and- Peaceful." you whisper to yourself but then let out a small scoff before putting the framed picture back in its place and walking away to go and get yourself a warm cup of tea.

Sitting down on the huge couch in the living room, your legs against your chest, a fuming cup of tea between your cold hands, you look around, lost and unsure of what you want and need.

You'e never, ever, stayed in the same place for more than two days that's, like, a rule of yours but this time around seems to be different. With Randall by your sides, you don't know if you'll be able to move as much, he's still seriously injured and he clearly isn't used to being out here, in the real world, anymore.

He's used to protection, easy access to food and water, hot showers, comfortable beds and wired fences protecting him. Thing is; those things are not part of the world out here, they're not part of your world either.

Finding a place to settle in for the night, spending your days running around, sneaking around every place you find, fighting for your life, getting that rush of adrenaline, feeling completely whole and satisfied at the end of the day because you made it all by yourself, leaving little notes for other survivors out there, cleaning entire buildings for other people to be safe in before marking them to let people know that the place is clear, only killing if you have absolutely no other options, only taking what you need and always leaving some things behind for other people to get, that's your life, that's you, that's your version of pure freedom and happiness. That's what makes you whole.

The Sanctuary, Negan and his men, all of it, really, is your complete opposite and you know that. You hate it there, you hate those people. They're nothing a bunch of brain-dead bullies, a bunch of cowards who always wait for things to fall right in the palm of their hands, and, as for Negan... You don't know, you're unsure and you hate it because you know damn well that there's nothing for you to be unsure of; he's an abusive piece of shit and that's that yet, for some goddamn reason, you can't bring yourself to think of him that way and it drives you insane.

A loud banging noise pulls you out of your contemplation, making your head snap up only to spot a walker scratching at the window of the living room, looking at you whilst snapping its jaw hungrily, its hands smearing blood all over the glass.

With deep, annoyed sigh, you carefully put your now half empty cup of tea on the coffee table in front of the couch, and make your way to the entry hall of the house. Reaching your butterfly knife out of your shorts' waistband, you swiftly pull the blade of the knife out before unlocking the front door, the walker immediately trying to force its way in but you quickly push it off with your left forearm before completely stepping outside with it, closing the door behind you.

You get a tighter grip around the handle of your knife before swiftly grabbing the back of the walker's head and effortlessly push the sharp blade of the weapon right between its eyes, the rotten body going completely limp and falling down on the porch in front of the house as you let go of it.

You feel adrenaline pumping through your entire body, making your heart beat insanely fast and making it jump when you hear yet another groan which you decide to follow, the adrenaline pumping in your system taking decisions for you.

You follow the noise which leads you to the back of the big house, a small gasp escaping you when you spot a good dozens of walkers feasting on a dead animal. You're not sure what it used to be, all you know is that, it was a big one, maybe a horse or a cow, something along those lines.

You cover your mouth to keep yourself from puking right there on the spot, the smell so strong you can taste it and, goddamn, it tastes like shit.

You hear a few groans growing louder and you're pretty damn sure that they smelled you at this point, just because you're out their sight, doesn't mean that they won't know that you're here. Hell, they actually have quite a shitty eyesight but those fuckers sure as shit can smell you from a mile away, that much you know by now. You gotta learn the hard way sometimes, you sure fucking did.

You take a quick peak behind the wall to confirm your suspicions and, yes, a few of them are, indeed, heading towards you, looking kind of... curious? You're not sure if they're quite so sure as to what they're smelling but you do know one thing and it's that; you're not taking that chance, you're not dying today because you took a chance and ended up being completely wrong.

You swiftly round the wall, making yourself visible to them and, while some of them keep on eating the carcass of the dead animal, completely unaware and unbothered, the one already making their way to growling and starting to try and reach out for you with their hands, their jaws snapping and, you have to admit that, when they all do it at the same time, it sounds and looks quite fucking terrifying.

You ignore your shaking hands, unsure if you're shaking because you're afraid or because of the adrenaline rushing through your veins, before swiftly grabbing one of the walkers and bringing it flush against you, shoving the blade of your knife in its rotten head and letting go of it to let the now dead body fall flat on the ground beneath your feet, you repeat the same process over and over again, taking them one by one and pushing them off of you when they try to out-number you.

A good five minutes later, you're covered in blood, you smell like death and your breath is hectic as all hell. There's blood literally all over you; your bare legs, your arms, the small amount of cleavage that isn't covered by the dipped collar of your t-shirt, your throat and your face, you look like a real life horror show but it's been a long, long time since you've felt so damn good.

You love that feeling, your heart beating out of your chest, adrenaline consuming you, your hands shaking, your knife dripping blood and covered in pieces of flesh, it's insane but; this is home to you, something familiar, something you can blindly walk into. This specific state that you're in is your very own home, that's when you feel the safest, the most confident, this is your territory, your world and no Negan could ever take that away from you. No one ever could, no one ever will, you won't let them.

This is your world and nobody does it like you.

You take a few steps forwards to take a look at what the hell those drooling freaks were chewing on and realize that it's a deer. It must have gotten lost in the night and ended up here before it got cornered by the walkers its smell must have attracted.

poor thing...

"[Y/n]?" you hear Randall calling for you from the house's porch so you decide to show yourself before he attracts some more walkers.

damn, give me a break, will ya.

You make your way back around the house, getting into Randall's sight. He's smiling at first when he spots you and you wave at him but his smile is pretty damn quick to fade away when you get closer to him and he realizes that you're completely caked in fresh blood, bloody knife in hand.

"What the hell-"

"Just a few walkers, took care of it though." you nonchalantly state before sitting down on the steps leading up to the porch. Your back turned to Randall as he strands behind you.

"What the fuck, [y/n]. Why didn't you wake me up? I could have helped you for fuck's sake, you could have-" he starts, his voice sharp but filled with worry.

"I said I handled it, Randall." you grit out, "Now, let's stop talking about it, yeah? It's done, it's taken care of so shut up about it, already." you snap, adrenaline affecting your mind and pushing words that are not supposed to slip out of your mouth out, "Damn it, m'sorry, Randall." you say with a sigh, realizing that you just snapped at him for no goddamn reason, "It's just- S'okay, I'm okay and I- I don't want you to think that I'm some helpless girl that always needs someone's hand, 'cause I'm not, I can handle myself." you hear Randall chuckle behind you and then he's joining you on the steps leading on up to the porch, sitting right next to you and looking at you with a warm smile.

"[Y/n], sweet pea, I know that you can handle yourself. I've never doubted that, at all. You're way more capable than all of the people left on this Earth all put together so, yeah, that's definitely not what I'm worried about, here. I'm just worried about things getting out of hand 'cause, no matter how much knowledge you have out here, things can go south real fucking quick. Also, I don't want you to think that relaying on people is wrong or that it makes you weak, because it doesn't. You do get to ask for help, and not just when you're out here, you can ask help with anything."

"Relaying on people is a mistake, Randall. How do you not understand that?" you ask him with a frown, sounding almost offended by his words, "After Negan? After-After Connor? He relayed on me and he died because of it, and you? You relayed on Negan to keep you safe, fed and warm and, damn, look where that got you." you state, pointing at his beat up face.

"Not all people are like him, [y/n]. And, as for Connor, he was right to rely on you. What happened to him was not your fucking fault so stop with the constant bashing."

"Yeah," you start, standing up off the steps, "you keep telling yourself that while I keep reality out of your sight, don't worry about it." you coldly say before walking back inside the house with a scoff.

"What the hell's gotten into you, uh?" Randall calls after you, following you inside the house, clearly confused by your behavior.

"You don't fucking get it, do ya?" you snap, turning around to look at him with narrowed eyes, "I've heard people talk just like you, Randall and now-now they're-they're fucking dead and-and it's all because- It's all because I couldn't force them to face the reality of things! This world is crap and people take advantage of you, all the time! People will kill you for a piece of soap, Randall! You can't put your life into someone else's hands, that's stupidity, you need to understand that; you're all you've got, Randall." you finish with tears in your eyes, trying your best to keep them to yourself, "I can't- I can't watch it happen again, Randall. I can't- I can't handle it, n-not again, pl-please." he carefully watches you before grabbing your forearm, pulling you into his chest, a sob leaving your mouth the very second your bodies make contact, your hands desperately gripping his bare biceps, your nails digging into the solid skin, as if he'll vanish if you don't hold on to him, "M'scared, Randall. I'm always scared."

"And it's normal for you to be, baby. It's okay." he whispers against the top of your head, gently kissing it as his hands softly rub your back up and down, trying to calm you down.

"W-why ca-can't I feel s-safe too? Why can't I d-do that?"

You feel lost, you feel lonely and it feels like every single drop of adrenaline you had in your body a few seconds ago just morphed into pure sadness and you fucking hate it with every single fiber of your being.

It's insane just how fast your mood changed. It's insane that, no matter what you feel, you're still thinking about him. You wonder if he would've been proud of you for putting down those walkers all by yourself with only a knife in your bare hands, you hope that he'd be, you really want him to be and it sucks. You crave his validation and chase after his praises.

You fucking miss Negan and that's the last thing you ever thought you'd do, it feels like your own mind is betraying you.

how can you miss someone that hurt and constantly mistreats you?

You don't fucking know, that's the biggest issue here; you don't understand what's happening, all you know is that it hurts like hell and you don't much care for it. You want it to stop, you need it to fucking stop.

"Maybe-" Randall starts, his soft voice pulling you out of the war-zone that is your mind, "[Y/n], look at the crappy world we're living in. It's perfectly normal that you can't feel safe, baby, hell, I don't think anyone in their right mind would ever feel safe knowing what the hell is happening out there." he pauses and gently pushes your head further into his chest, "And you know that, I know you do."

he doesn't get it, does he?

You let out a shaky sob against Randall's chest before nodding your head, slowly backing away from him and taking a deep breath, "Randall," you take a deep, shaky breath and look up at him, "you don't understand. I- I don't feel safe h-here, inside. I-I- just- It's- Damn it!" you snap, frustrated by your stuttering, "I don't feel safe indoors, alright? I hate it! I hate being stuck between four walls, I hate having to pretend that everything is fine and that there isn't a bunch of dead people walking around outside, looking for fresh flesh, okay?! I fucking hate it! It's so-so- It's so pointless! And I hate people, Randall! Oh my God! I hate those!" you exclaim, stepping away from Randall, your hands moving all over the place as you speak, "They just take and take and take and, fucking hell, they never look back on the things that you did to keep them alive, ever! But, oh boy, you fuck up once? Take that one goddamn decision that everyone think is wrong? And suddenly, every fucking thing that ever happened is your fucking fault! Hell, y'know what? I taught myself not to expect anything from anyone because it's stupid and it shouldn't be how things work, right? 'Cause, like, you're supposed to be nice to people because it's supposed to come from a genuine place, right? But, y'know what? No matter how hard I tried, how badly I wanted to keep my mind from drifting in that direction, I ended up being sick and tired of always doing everything, of making every single decisions and never getting as much as a thank you afterwards." a sob escapes your lips and you step back when Randall takes a step forward to get to you, putting a shaking hand up to silently tell him to stay away, "I always ended up being that bitch, Randall. The girl who killed to protect her group just for them to look at me like I'm some kind of heartless bitch that only knows how to kill and hurt! I was that bitch because someone had to fucking be! Because whenever someone got bit, I had to be the one putting them down, me! Why always fucking me?! Oh, you need to bury someone? Have [y/n] do it! And guess what? [Y/n] always fucking did that shit, she put people down, dug graves and buried them because no one else wanted to have their friends' blood on their hands, no one else wanted to be that bitch! What about me?! I hate people and I hate what they do, I hate how selfish and fucking cruel they are! They're so fucking cruel and it hurts so fucking bad, Randall!"

"[Y/n], hey, it's okay, calm d-" he tries but your mind doesn't register his attempt.

"I threw myself in the middle of a fucking horde just to go and get a few medical supplies but I still ended up being the heartless bitch because the man that needed the fucking supplies died while I was away and he turned and killed his daughter, Randall!" you lash out, tears running out of your eyes like they rarely ever did before, your nose running all over the place and your heart pounding in of your chest so loudly it's filling your ears, "His-His name was Heath a-and his dau-daughter's name was B-Bailey, he-he left his wife behind." you let out a nervous laugh between your cries, "She fucking hated me, slapped me three times in a row, so hard that she ended up tearing the skin of my cheek." you whisper, your shaking hand softly going up to touch the faded scar marking your left cheek among the ones Lucille left there as well, "I buried them together and I left... Came back two days later a-and the place was overrun by walkers, they all died." you whisper, the fight leaving your body, "I saw them, all roaming around, but I didn't do anything about it... I didn't want to but, now, I regret not doing it, y'know? I wasn't in the right place at the time a-and I- I just- I was just s-so tired of al-always being that bitch." you look up at him with teary eyes and a small smile, shrugging with a sad laugh, "I'm sick of it, Randall. I'm done."

Randall is about to say something but you let out a sigh and walk away from him, from the conversation, before running up the stairs and locking yourself up in the bathroom to get some time on your own.

The tattooed man lets out a sigh as well, slamming the front door of the house shut, making the walls of the hall shake violently, before walking to the living room and letting himself fall on the soft couch, his hands running through his long blond hair in pure frustration.

This is going to be a long day for both of you.





SANCTUARY // 7:00 AM //

Faith is violently woken up by the sound of the door of her bedroom being slammed open.

"What the f-"

"Randy boy fucking disappeared, Faithy girl-" Negan states with an unreadable distorting his features and a feral smirk crooking his mouth.

"What does that have do to with me, man? What the fuck, you can't just wake me up like that, are you fucking insane?" Faith protests before groaning into her pillow, not nearly awake enough to deal with this shit.

Negan chuckles and shuts the bedroom door before sitting down on a chair next to her bed, his head resting on his hands which are resting on top of Lucille's handle, her bloody, wired head digging into the bedroom's floor.

With a defeated sigh, Faith slowly sits up on the mattress, not giving a single shit about the fact that she's only wearing knickers and an old shirt, and looking intensely at Negan. Deep down, she's afraid that he might see right through her and understand that she lied to him about not knowing where you are, that she lied about looking for you but she keeps her composure.

She reminds herself to keep her calm and to do what she does best; play Negan's game, "Are you just gonna sit there or..?" she asks, already annoyed with his presence.

"I don't like being fucked with, Faith." Negan says through clearly gritted teeth, tapping Lucille's head against the floor, his shoulders tensing up, "S'lot of people missing, I can't fucking have that-"

"S'two people, Negan." she spits back, her annoyance crystal clear, "Two people that you've been mistreating and bullying for a good while now so, how the fuck can you be surprised by the fact that they ran off? After the shit you've done to Randall? What the fuck happened there, uh?"

"He crossed a fucking line, Faith-"

"Oh yeah, right, he dared to care about the girl you kept on fucking up with, shouldn't have asked, my bad." she says, rolling her eyes, trying not to punch him right there and then.

Negan lets out a cold, frankly quite menacing, chuckle before getting up off the chair he's sitting on and walking closer to Faith's bed, Lucille in hand, before kneeling down to be face to face with Faith.

"Y'know what? I'm gonna let that one go, again, and fucking assume that you're being a fucking brat because of that bipolar shit you've got goin' on, yeah?" Faith's jaw clenches at that, "But, just so you know, I won't let you off the hook so fucking easily next time Faith, no matter how fucked up your brain is. We clear ya lil' moody freak?"

Faith stays completely still, her stomach clenching shut, her whole back tensing up. Ddid he just call her a "moody freak"? Who the fuck does he think he is?

"Fuck you, Negan. Go fuck yourself, you're a terrible person. I can't pull up with your bullshit anymore, I'm sick of you and your twisted games."

"Aw, don't be like that, Faithy girl." he says with a grin, satisfied to see that his words actually got to her, maybe enough for her to talk, "I'll give you a big ol' apology if you tell me where my baby girl ran off to. I know you know, Faith, I fucking knew the second you fucking gave me the worst crap story there is when I told you she was gone. C'mon now, I know you would never go look for her, you don't fucking want her here, I fucking know that but, guess what?" he smirks and tilts his head, getting slightly closer to Faith's face, "She's fucking mine and I never, ever, fucking lose nor let go of what's mine and mine only."

"What about Randall, uh? Isn't he yours too? Fuck, aren't all of us yours, mister "I have to own everything to feel like a manly man""? she spits out bitterly, getting tired of his shit and slightly getting aggravated by his cocky attitude.

"Yeah... Yeah, you used to be, and you all still kind of fucking are, dolly, but, here's the thing though-" he pauses, with smirk turning feral again, "I'll fucking kill every single one of you if that's what it takes for her to get her sweet bubbly little ass back home, by my goddamn sides, where she fucking belongs."

Faith's mind starts to take in his words, processing them; is he actually being protective of you? Is this his version of romance? To Faith, it seems like it. Negan never talks like that, it's really foreign to her and it is for him as well.

"I-I can't- I can't tell you, I can't do that to her." she finally cracks a little, his behavior putting her off.

Negan stands up straight, standing tall right in front of her who's still sitting on her bed before leaning back and letting a cold chuckle out, his gloved right hand tightly gripping Lucille, "Oh boy! Fuckin' hell, Faith! You are testing my fucking patience right now and I don't fucking have a lot of that!" he exclaims before violently slamming his bat against the wall behind him, making Faith slightly jump on her mattress at the sound, "I'm seriously sick of your shit, Faith!"

"Fuck you! You can't just bash my fucking wall like that! What the fuck?!" she protests before getting out of bed, her hand reaching under her pillow to fetch the radio you gave her earlier on, Negan's eyes immediately sticking to the small black box, "You wanna know where she is so fucking badly? There, fucking ask her yourself, you fucking prick!" she hands the radio out to Negan but he only laughs at her, looking at her in disbelief.

"I know you a little too fucking well to fall for that lil' trick, Faith." he says with a smirk, knowing damn well that she wasn't actually about to give him the damn radio, "Y'know what? I think you need some time off, yeah?" he adds with a mean smirk still splattered on his face, Faith shooting him a confused expression which quickly turns into fear when she gets where this is going, "Yeah, y'know what I'm fucking talking about don't you, dolly?" he gets closer to her, his breath hitting her closed mouth as his mean smirk turns into a full on wolfish grin, "I'm gonna have to put you back into your little box for a lil' while, aren't I? Like the good ol' days, remember? Damn, took ya a while to calm the fuck down and actually realize what was good for ya, didn't it?" he taunts, knowing damn well that he's putting pressure on the right nerves.

"I'm not going back in this shithole, Negan, fuck you! I'm not going back! Fuck you!" she yells, violently pushing him away from her but he only moves a slight bit which seems to be really funny to him, it isn't to Faith though.

"Faith," he starts, gripping his bat a little tighter, "everything can go as smooth as my baby girl's ass or we can make this real fucking hard if that's what ya want, what's it gonna be? You're gonna walk there or am I gonna have to fucking drag you in there myself? In front of all your little friends?" he lets out a small chuckle, "In front of Dwighty boy? S'that what ya want, dolly?"

The dark skinned woman screws her eyes shut, trying to make it all go away but she knows that it's all too real for it to just vanish, she knows that she's gonna have to push her pride away for now and actually walk to a fucking cell, the same damn cell that Negan threw her in when he first found her and she tried to kill him and his men after they killed one of her loved ones.

She doesn't want to go back, she can't, but she's gonna have to and it sickens her. She drops the radio in her hand, her head aching as she tries her hardest to make Negan disappear but he's still right here, in front of her.





The door of the cold, dark cell slams shut, creating a loud noise, making Faith's head aches some more as tears start to roll down her face; she's terrified. All she can think of now is her deceased girlfriend as well as her long gone little girl.

Negan always says that he doesn't kill to kill; it's bullshit. Faith's seen him kill one of her closest friend for no goddamn reason, she couldn't actually believe that she used to know Negan, that she used to fucking work with him, to actually consider him a close friend as she watched him bash her best friend's head in. They used to get along great and it seems like Negan doesn't understand just how fucked up he is now. To him, their relationship hasn't changed and neither did he, Faith begs to differ.

She lets a sob out, bringing her legs up to her chest to hide her face away in her knees, trying to stop thinking, trying to shut her mind up, to make it all go the fuck away but it's here and she has to deal with it, she always does.

"I miss you so fucking much Brook and I miss our little baby. I miss you two so, so much." she whispers against her legs, trying to appease her mind but it seems to be on overdrive right now and there's nothing she can do but wait for it to cool down on its own.

You're on her mind as well, Negan took the radio you gave her and she's afraid that he might actually use it but she knows that, even if he does, you won't tell him where you are and that's not what she's worried about.

She's worried about you as a whole. She wonders if you're alright, if you've found shelter, if you've spend a good night of sleep, if you're getting enough rest, if Randall is alright, if he's in pain or not, it feels like she's going insane and there's absolutely nothing she can do about it so she just lets her body fall on the small, crappy bed in the small cell and just stares blankly at the dirty ceiling above her waiting, for what? She's not a hundred percent sure, all she knows is that; she's fucking waiting for something, anything will do.




1:00 PM //

You've spend the rest of your morning crying in the bathroom, Randall sitting at the other side of the door, talking to you and trying to get you to open the damn door but you keep on telling him to leave you alone, a request which he ignores every single time, afraid that you might seriously hurt yourself if he leaves. He just needs to be here, it reassures him to hear you, to know that you're somewhat okay.

Your anxiety is eating you alive, you're here, crying your heart out in an empty bathtub, your whole body shaking and your head aching yet, all you can think about is Negan. You can't stop feeling nervous about the fact that he's not around, he's nowhere for you to just reach out for him and ask for re-comfort, you miss him. 

You miss his stupid dirty jokes that you don't fucking get, you miss his cocky attitude, you miss his voice, you miss him pulling you in for a quick kiss just because, you fucking miss him as a whole and you hate that he's not right here. You realize that you don't feel well at all when you're apart from him, you don't fucking know why but you just can't properly function without him around and it sucks. Not having him near just doesn't feel right.

That man has you wrapped around his fingers and you want to escape from his grip as much as you want him to tighten it.

yeah, you're going insane... this is it, today is the day when you lose your fucking mind and there's no turning back, girl, you're fucked. completely and utterly  f u c k e d.

You need some air, you need to move, you need to distract your mind, you need to shut it all off yet you can't move, you don't want to.

You feel like crap about your outburst, you feel like crap for talking the way you talked to Randall. He doesn't deserve this, he's always been there for you and you're being pretty damn obnoxious right now. It's unfair to treat him that way, that's also why you've been crying so much, because you hate that you've snapped at him for no other reason than that; he was here and you needed to vent the hell out.

Walking out of the tub, you make your way to the locked door of the bathroom and sit down of the cold tile floor, your back leaning against the door and the back of your head resting on it, "M'sorry, Randall. M'piece of shit, I'm sorry." you whisper through your side of the door, your voice teary and raw from crying and sobbing for hours on ends.

"[Y/n], baby, please just- Just come out here, please? I really need you right now. Please?" he pleads through the thick door, his forehead resting on the hard wood.

"You deserve so much better than to be stuck with me. You really do and I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry." you say, your mind not registering his plea.

"[Y/n], listen to me. The conversation we've had this morning did not hurt my fucking feelings, I need you to know that, alright? It actually really helped me understand what's what and I fucking needed that, I really did, I wanted it-"

"No, Randall, I'm fucked up. The way I see the world, the way I see people is fucked up. Trust me, you're good being exactly who you are, you truly are."

"Shut up, you shut up right now, I'm sick of this crap, [y/n]." he snaps from his side of the door though his voice is soft and filled with concern, "I fucking needed this conversation and the way you see things isn't fucked up, it's the way it is because of what you've been put through. How the fuck is that your fucking fault? Look- Just, please, come out here, we can pack some things and move out. S'like you said, staying in one place isn't a good thing, at all. There's a bunch of walkers in the area, it's not fucking safe anyway so, please, [y/n], c'mere and give me a fucking hug 'cause I really fucking need it, baby."

He lets out a relieved sigh when he hears the door click open and sees the knob turning, the door opening shortly after and he feels like his lungs are finally receiving air again when you immediately lunch yourself into his chest, hiding your face in it, your hands snaking around his waist to rest on his back and your fingers clinging to his shirt like it's some sort of life support.

"M'sorry." you cry into his chest.

"Shh, I'm sorry too, baby." he whispers into your hair.

The two of you stay in each other's arms for a good ten minutes, forgetting just how tense and tired you both are and just letting your fears and worries vanish for a short instant until your walkie-talkie starts to freak out in the bathroom, "Hot damn, baby girl, you're in so much fuckin' trouble, y'know that? Hell, lil' Randy boy ain't gonna be able to just walk this one off either, that's for fucking sure." you hear Negan's voice say and you can fucking hear him grinning through the damn radio.

You and Randall look at each other, he looks terrified and you don't look any better, all the pigment in your skin just melted and is now painting the floor beneath your feet... well, if that was anatomically possible, that's what it'd be doing.

"I-is that- Fucking hell, that's Negan. What the fuck! Faith fucking set us up!"

"N-no-No she-She wouldn't do that Randall, she-"

"Alright, then, I'm going fucking crazy and I'm hearing his voice now 'cause, I mean, you clearly didn't fucking hear what I just fucking heard if-"

"I heard, Randall." you stop him, trying to make him snap out of his fear, "Listen, baby, it's okay." you coo, softly pushing his head against yours, "It's okay, baby. It's okay, you're okay, we're okay. It-it'll be okay." you softly whisper and you can hear his breathing slowling back down, his body relaxing against yours, "He has the walkie but the fucker doesn't have our location-"

"What if Faith told him-"

"She hasn't, she wouldn't, I know that. Plus, she doesn't know either, Randall. He doesn't fucking know where we are and I'm not about to let him find out, alright, baby? But, for now, we gotta go. Together, yeah?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, together."

You give him a reassuring smile and squeeze his hand in yours before letting go of him, telling him to grab everything he thinks is useful but, as he runs down the stairs to start gathering supplies, you stay right in front of the open bathroom's door, looking at the small, harmless black box, your brain waiting for Negan to somehow jump out of it.

You never thought that such a small, seemingly harmless thing could ever scare the crap out of you like that yet, even though you are scared, scared for Randall's life and safety, scared because if Negan has the damn radio then it means that Faith must have gotten into trouble and you can feel your stomach eating itself up just at the thought of her being hurt in any way... For some fucked up reason, you always can't help but feel better now that you've actually heard his voice, now that you've heard him call you baby girl, no matter how dark his voice was, he spoke to you and that's all you needed.

You might have mixed feelings about Negan, you might not fucking understand what the hell is going with you when it comes to him but, one thing you do know for damn sure is that; you fucking care a whole bunch about Randall and you won't let him get hurt, or worse, you can't, not him, not like that

To you, it doesn't matter what it'll take to keep Randall away from Negan's claws, you'll do it all, again, and again, and again, and again 'til you can't fucking breathe anymore, you'll carry that burden even if it fucking kills you. You'll die before he does.

Chapter Text

A MONTH LATER // 1:00 PM //

You're not sure, really not sure, if you ever felt so much pain before, you really doubt it but, still, you keep searching for a specific day when you might have felt that much pain yet, you can't find any and, damn, you really, really tried. Nothing ever hurt you as bad as you're hurting right now, nothing you've ever felt can compare to it and it's bad news for you.

It's bad because you're always one to compare one pain with an other to try and diminish it a little bit. For example; when Randall was burning the rose sitting on the outside of your left thumb into your skin, you thought about how it felt when you used to get beat up at school which turned the pain you were feeling when he tattooed you as a simple discomfort, nothing more.

You're unsure of what happened or how and why it happened, all you know is that; two bullets went through your body and one of them is still in there, comfortably laying inside your right shoulder, the little shit pierced right through your ligaments and is now stuck between your clavicles. Well, at least, that's what you assume since it didn't come out and you feel like screaming every time you try and move your shoulder a little.

You're not sure where the bullet is precisely, which is gonna make it even more painful and complicated to remove it on your own, but you know that it hurts like a bitch and that you now have to rely on your left arm to shoot which is bad news writing all over because the only gun you have is a small handgun that Randall found a few weeks ago and ordered you to keep by your sides in case of emergencies but, you see, the fun part; it's impossible to use with good ol' lefty because fuck you that's why. You tried since you usually have no problem working with either of your hands but this gun told you to piss right off with this crap and you're not sure how you feel about that now that your left hand is your only option.

Obviously, you can't use your bow since it requires both of your hands and shoulders more specifically.

To add to your already bad condition, you also got shot right through the belly, you don't know if the bullet actually hit anything major or not, all you know is that; it hurts like hell. The bullet went straight through so you know that it didn't get through your guts, otherwise it wouldn't have been able to get back out so easily and you would have felt way more pressure when it went through, that much you know.

"F'cking pricks- Can't I just go one day without everything going to shit? Seriously." you mumble angrily as you stumble forward and let your upper body drop flat against the hood of an abandoned car.

You try to recall what led up to you getting fucked up like that but it proves to be a really difficult task when you're profusely bleeding out and your entire body is aching for care and medical attention which you can't provide it with.

You feel like crying, you want to cry because of the pain but also because of the fatigue, the fact that Randall is now missing and the fact that you have no way to ask for help, no one to run or turn to.

You and Randall both have been moving all over the place for a moth now, a whole month in which you almost ran straight back to Negan but successfully avoided it. You don't know why you always somehow end up feeling this urge to run back to him and to apologize, you just do.

No, you have nothing to apologize for but you feel like you do none the less. You ran away from him and now you feel bad because, well, he's not around you anymore, he's not here teasing the hell out of you, making your cheeks burn so much that it hurts, making really crude and sexual jokes that you don't even get, hell, you even miss his annoying, ridiculously long and unnecessary speeches about how amazing he thinks he is and how powerful he actually believes he is.

You don't know why you feel that way, it hurts you to feel this way because you don't want to feel anything but hatred for him yet, you can't lie, you miss him terribly. And, because you've found yourself missing Negan, your brain also brought back old memories of your friends, especially the Dixons. You miss those two idiots, you miss Merle's attitude, you miss it because you knew that it was just a way for him to deal with things he was afraid of, when you two were together, he'd always himself be and that's how you knew.

That's how you knew that Merle wasn't a bad man, he was just really messed up and he had really shitty ways to deal with a pain no one really ever seem to understand or even give a shit about and, really, who were you to judge him? And, as for Daryl... You just miss talking to him really late at night, you miss doing some really stupid shit with him, you miss falling asleep curled up in his arms, you miss the times when he would talk you into messing with his dad while he was snoozing away on the couch, you just miss him and it hurts to just think about it, hell, it hurts to think about them.

You miss Luna, you miss Merle, you miss Daryl, you miss Connor, hell, you miss Randall. You just feel so lonely and you're not too excited about that specific feeling if you're being honest because you know it all too well, it's been clinging to you for years now and you know fully feel what kind of damages it can do.

You groan against the rusty hood of the car your upper body's been laying on for the past five minutes before pushing yourself back up, your left arm shaking under the pressure as you push yourself up and you wince in pain when the bullet wound in your shoulder throbs in protest, making you curse out loud.

"Randall!" you call out in pure pain and panic, afraid and upset but, above all, angry beyond belief.

where the hell are you!

You're losing too much blood and you know that you have to get a move on before you end up passing out in the middle of the road for the walkers roaming around the area to make you their next meal. You know they can smell you, hell, your blood is the only thing you can smell so you're not surprised to see and hear a bunch of them groaning around and you already count five of them following behind you, making their way towards you as fast as their rotten legs allow them to and, you have to admit, you're not too comfortable nor too happy about the fact that they're actually moving quite fast... well, at least as fast as you since your wounds slow you down a whole lot, more than you can afford in the situation that you're in.

You do your best to keep your eyes peeled and most importantly; open, as you make your way to God knows where, hell, anywhere you could catch a small break and be at least a little bit safe will do. You can't really give yourself the luxury to play difficult at the moment, you never do anyway.

Right now, it's almost been two months since you've ran away from the Sanctuary and no, you don't regret it, at least you try really hard to convince yourself that you don't, that you're happy with the way things are going but, well, it's kinda hard to keep your spirit up when you're bleeding out and there's a bunch of walkers lusting after you for a piece of your flesh.

The last month wasn't really "good" if you're being honest. A lot of things happened and almost all of them caused a fight to erupt between you and Randall. You have to be truthful though, and admit that most of the arguments you two got into was because you would lose your shit over things you weren't supposed to and, more often than not it was because of the smallest of details. Randall didn't understand your outburst so he'd snap back at you and it'd angered you ever further which pissed him off etc, etc.

The first "heated" and, really, the very first, argument you two had was just after Negan radioed you, just after you and Randall hugged each other and apologized for the complicated conversation you two had the very same morning. None of you answered Negan's call because you both knew that that's all he was waiting for, for one of you to actually join in on his stupid, twisted mind game.

After you told Randall not to worry and to just go and grab as much supplies as he could, you took a few seconds to just stand there, looking at the radio sitting right next to the sink in the bathroom, the need you felt to grab it and talk to Negan was way too strong for you to be comfortable so you decided to go and help Randall pack things up.

Everything was going great until you've heard a big crash and you ran to the bathroom where the noise came from and just stood there, breathless from running up the stairs, panic running through your veins as you thought that Randall might have gotten hurt while moving something but nope, he was alright. You weren't though.

When you got to the bathroom, you felt your veins filling up with anger and sadness when you've spotted the small black walkie-talkie smashed to pieces on the ground, there was nothing left of it, nothing but tiny pieces and a cracked battery laying on the tiled floor.

"What the hell, Randall? What did you fucking do?!" you asked, your hands pulling at the hair at the top of you head.

"Smashed the damn thing, [y/n]." he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, -it was-, "We can't let him get any leaverage on us, c'mon."

he's right... 

"Are you fucking stupid?!" you snapped, tears blurring your vision as anger started to slowly eat you alive.

"What the hell's gotten into you?" he asked as calmly as possible, taking a step towards you, frowning in concern when you took two back, "[Y/n], baby, s'okay. Having this thing around was dangerous you know tha-"

"We could have work things out for fuck's sake! But nooo, you just had to listen to your stupid fears and act like a dumbass! We needed that damn radio, Randall!" you yelled, somehow irritated by his calmness.

You both looked at each other for a while, none of you breaking eye-contact, which, honestly, was surprising coming from you since you never were too good nor comfortable with the whole eye-contact thing. You usually never last more than three seconds and that's the best you ever did so, yeah, that was really intense for you to go through with but you couldn't look away from Randall's eyes, the blue one was a darker shade of blue but the grey one didn't seem to have gotten any darker, it was just dilated like the other.

Eventually, you broke down and cried, knowing damn well that you had no reason whatsoever to snap at him like you did. He'd done the right thing and you knew that but, the fact that the only way for you to communicate with Negan was now completely gone, it just... It didn't feel right, it scared the hell out of you and you felt such a crushing lonely the moment you've spotted the smashed walkie-talkie on the floor of the bathroom that you freaked out. You didn't mean to feel the way you did, it just happened, you just snapped and you immediately regretted it yet, you couldn't stop the words from flowing out of your mouth, you completely lost control for a minute.

"I-I'm-I'm sorry, Randall. I didn't-I didn't m-mean to yell a-at you, m'sorry." you'd softly let out, trying really hard to keep your composure after what'd just happened.

"S'okay, sweet pea, s'okay." he said with a small smile, once again forgiving your outburst without a second thought, before taking you into his arms to let you let out the tears that you so badly needed to let go of.

After that, things got back on tracks. You both moved around a lot but you'd always find a place to safely spend the night in, something even a few weeks, you'd find a few supplies here and there every single day but you always reminded Randall to leave some behind for other people that might come after you. He had a bit of a hard time with this specific rule of yours at first but he slowly stopped rambling about how stupid it was when you snapped at him and told him that he was being selfish and that selfishness and greediness were two of the things people don't fucking need in this world.

Sometimes, he would push you around a little and ask you why you snapped the way you did when he broke the radio, you'd always avoided the topic, not wanting to talk about it, but he always pushed that boundary and, eventually, he's pushed it too far, making you snap, which created yet another fight between the two of you.

He'd always apologize after but you got bored of it pretty quickly. You never were here for people who fuck up and apologize later on only to fuck up the exact same thing over and over again. You say no once and that you should've be more than enough for people to shut the fuck up about whatever they want to get out of you, you can't stand this kind of behavior, it's shitty.

You two got in the red for a few weeks after you declined his apology, you would avoid each other as much as possible, you would spend your whole days outside and he would spend his days sleeping and recovering from the wounds Negan inflicted to him.

One night, as you were sleeping peacefully on the couch of a small house you two had found and settled in for the night, you've decided to leave the bed for Randall, knowing that he needed the comfort, which almost made you two argue yet again but your deadly glare quickly made him shut up and take the damn bed, you were woken up by raw coughs and rough grunts and you immediately rushed to Randall, afraid that he might have gotten sick or something, only to find him laying on the floor, on his stomach, clearly trying to get back up.

You remember rushing to him and helping him back on his bed, tears filling your eyes as you spotted the mean looking bruises on his skin, covering his ribs. He thanked you and explained to you that he was trying to get up and go get some water but he fell flat on his ass, he said with a small laugh, and he didn't want to call for you because he didn't want to wake you.

You remember running to the living room and fetching a bottle of water out of your backpack before running back to him, handing him the bottle and letting him drink while you took a close look at his wounds. You touched here and there making him wince a few times but he then told you that he was actually feeling better than he did a few days ago, that he was just really tired and upset that you two seemed to be fighting over the smallest of things only because of your constant fatigue and worries.

You remember climbing in his bed after you've made sure that his ribs weren't actually broken, afraid that you might have overlooked it the first time you've healed his wounds, and snuggled with him under the sheets, the two of you apologizing to one another at the same time, making you both laugh.

And, hell, you remember shyly reaching for his lips before wishing him goodnight, and you sure as shit remember him chuckling and ending up right on top of you, kissing the living hell out of you for good while even though it was over way too soon for your liking.

After that night, you've decided to stick around for a few weeks to give Randall some rest and time to fully recover and things were back to normal the very night morning. The two of you were finally at peace and you finally were able to enjoy each other's company again without starting a fight over a fucking fly. Things were good, being out here was good for you, it was healthy and you felt more comfortable about having someone by your side, you weren't as frustrated or stressed out about it as you used to be, it was good.

But, of course, one day, it went back down real fucking quick. It was a regular day, you were messing around with Randall, cracking stupid jokes and actually having conversations about each other's past all whilst keeping an eye out for walkers as you were walking through what seemed to be an empty city and it was all fun and laughter until you've heard that one voice that you'd been craving to hear but almost pissed your pants when you actually did.

Randall was quick to drag you in a tiny alley with him, hiding the two of you away from Negan and his men's eyesight. You could feel your heart beating in your throat and your stomach doing flips in your tummy. You can't lie, seeing him again did things to you, you don't know what things exactly but it was there, you felt it and it pissed you off, it still does. You didn't seem to have any control over it but you didn't really try to make it stop either, you're not sure if you actually wanted it to go away or not, you're lost.

You were crushed between a wall and Randall's body but only he had his back turned to Negan, not you. Nope, you could see him just fine even though he couldn't, well, at least not if he didn't come snooping around.

You remember holding on tightly to one of Randall's hands, trying to breathe properly as you watched every move Negan made. You were so attentive to him, he's all you could freaking see and hear; his voice, his stupid face, just watching him order people around with Lucille laying proudly on his shoulder.

As a matter of fact, you paid some much attention to him that you actually were able to see that his hair were messy and not neatly put into place like they usually would be, that he trimmed his beard and that he wasn't wearing his red scarf, it just- this man does things to you and, even though you don't much care for it, you can't lie, you almost ran back to him right there and then. hell, you know that you would have if it wasn't for Randall's presence keeping you back sane and grounded.

You'd watch his every move, you'd watch his mouth moving as he spoke or more like barked orders around, you'd watch his jaw clenching and un-clenching with anger or stress, you're not sure which, you could even see his shoulders tensing up with every passing minute and you almost whimpered when you saw him taking his black leather jacket off only to carelessly hand it to Dwight. You'd blush when you've recalled wearing one of his white t-shirts and you wondered if it was the exact same that he was wearing at that day or if he just has a bunch of 'em lying in his dresser.

You also remembered how comfortable his jacket was to wear and your breath got caught in your throat when you remembered that he handed it to you because he didn't want you to get cold, you didn't know him that much back then but the gesture meant a lot to you none the less.

After him and his men left, clearly frustrated, Randall finally let go of you and you two ran off, wanting nothing to do with this place anymore now that Negan and his crew came through it. It just didn't feel safe anymore.

To this day, you still wonder if they were out looking for you and you hate to admit that; you hope so because you don't want him to forget about you but you also kind of do? It feels like you're losing your mind and, as much as you want to blame it on the blood that you're losing, you know that you had the exact same thoughts back then so, you can't.

You know that you missing his presence is wrong, really wrong, and pretty unhealthy but you can't help it, you have no control whatsoever over it which happens to be the most frustrating part. You'd say that it upsets you if not for the fact that you've decided that you already have enough to be upset about without adding Negan to the list, no thank you.

A sob escapes you as you look around and realize that you have no idea where the hell you are. You're on a long, crappy road with nothing but cars in sight and the smell of rotting bodies to fill your lungs, you feel like throwing up and you're unsure why, maybe it's all the blood you're losing or maybe it's just the smell of your fresh blood mixing with the smell of death and rotten corpses surrounding you.

"Ugh, I actually miss the disgusting smell of Simon's cologne right now... This blows." you mumble grumpily, adding more pressure on the bullet wound in your tummy to try and slow, if not stop, the bleeding down as much as you can but blood keeps on pouring through your fingers, still.

You're exhausted, you're covered in blood, your whole body aches and you're in so much pain that it's starting to become unbearable for you. You end up falling on the hard road, crying against the dirt and the concrete as you rest your forehead on the ground and curl yourself up, your hands protecting the bullet wound on your belly as the blood pouring out of the bullet wound on your shoulder slowly starts to drip on to your face and neck.

The weight of your backpack resting on your back is slightly crushing you and it reminds you of one thing; whoever the fuck attacked you wasn't even after your supplies, they were just a bunch of assholes with guns... Like Negan's dogs.

okay, so... where the hell is Randall and, oh, yeah- why the fuck isn't he with you? did he fucking bail on us?

"He wou-wouldn't do that to me, he-he wouldn't- he wouldn't do that- he wouldn't." you whisper softly against the ground, trying as hard as you can to reassure yourself, coughing when some dust flies into your mouth and gets caught in your throat, making your eyes tear up.

You hear a few groans around you but, whenever you try to get up, you just keep on falling back down on the ground, making you cry in frustration and panic.

You didn't really plan on getting gutted if you're being honest but, as the seconds past and the groans grow louder and louder, you know. You know that they're right here, a few meters away from your bloody body, hell, you might as well be dead.

You shut your eyes tightly when you spot a walker crawling towards you, a tear followed by a tone of others start to roll down your bloody, mud covered face.

i don't wanna die, i don't wanna die, i don't wanna die, not like that, please, not like that.

You start sobbing loudly as you feel a hand firmly grabbing one of your thighs, digging its nails into your soft flesh and you actually decide to try and turn around but, either one of them is on top you or your body is just really weaken by the blood loss because, you can't move a fucking muscle to save your life.

"C'mon ju-just do it already you f-freaks." you sob and let out a squeal when you feel one of them breathing right down on your calve, you swear you can feel the very tip of its teeth before everything stops in a heartbeat.

The groans stop and are replaced by gunshots, loud gunshots, a bunch of them. You feel the weight of the now dead bodies laying on your shocked up body and you try to get out from underneath them but you can't move, you're completely paralyzed, all you can do is cry. You don't want to but you clearly need to because you don't seem to be able to stop this train wreck.

"Damn it, that was loud." you hear a rough man's voice say your immediately brain freaks out.

"Yeah, it was, but we have some time before more of 'em show up just watch our back, yeah?" another says, his soft a little soft, his accent thick but surprisingly pleasant.

"Y'got it, Rick." the first man you've heard says before you hear footsteps approach you.

who is that? who the hell is rick? what's with today and all the weird shit?

Your hand weakly goes to grab your butterfly knife which is still tugged away in your waistband before softly snaking out from underneath your injured body only to stop dead in front of your face, your body being too tired to even bring your arm up and protect yourself from whoever these people are.

You see a pair of brown shoes stop right in front of your face and another pair of feet covering by faded brown boots firmly planted right next to the person standing in front of you.

"You bit?" the man with the accent asks, his voice sharp but calm.

"N-no- I- n-no." you manage to choke out, your head still laying against the concrete.

The person in front of you kneels down, finally letting see his face when you look up and you're unsure of what you feel. He actually looks really damn good, he has dark, brown curly hair, blue eyes and a stubble that clearly isn't being neatly kept, cleaned and groomed like Negan's but it still looks really good.

Your whole body twitches when he roughly moves you around, looking closely for any scratch or bite but, after a while, when he doesn't spot any of this type of wounds on the back of your body, he decides to turn you on your back making you cry out in pain when your wounded shoulder and the exit point on the back of your belly end up hitting the hard ground that you're laying on.

Your bow escapes your backpack and falls on the ground right next to you as Rick takes your knife out of your limp hand, making sure you don't cause any harm to him nor his people.

"Rick, if you can move her then do it 'cause we're starting to have some company over here." you hear a female say but you don't see her, hell, you can barely see the man inspecting you and he's right in front of you.

"How many walkers have you killed?" the man name Rick asks like right now's the best time to have a chat.

what? dude, dude, listen, dude- i'm dying over here, are you being serious right now?

"Uh- I-I dunno- A b-bunch. Too m-many to co-count, sir."

oooooof course you just said that, of couuuuurse... i'm leaving, you're dying and this is too awkward, even for me.

"How many people have you killed?"

"U-uh- I- E-eighteen, eighteen people, sir."

"Why?" he asks, watching you closely with narrowed eyes as you fight to keep yours open and to keep your heart beating for a little while longer.

"I-I had t-to?" you say, unsure if he's looking for a specific answer before taking a deep, shaky breath and looking at the blurry figure standing above you, "I-I'm no-not one t-to ask for ch-charity so just l-let me be, pl-please. You don't have t-to kill me, I'll p-probably die on m-my own any-anyway."

"M'not gonna kill you." he says with no emotion showing, at all, before shoving the blade of a huge machete, which you assume belongs to him, right in the middle of a walker's rotten head, making it fall limp on the ground right beside you.

yeah, sure, don't mind my open wounds and what not... s'cool... totally cool.

In a moment of panic, after witnessing just how easily he handled this huge ass blade, you quickly grab your bow and drag yourself a little bit away from the man and his group, wincing in pain as you do so, and you prop your back up against the side of a car before weakly aiming your bow up at no one in particular, just in their general direction, your wounded shoulder clearly upset with you as you do.

"Wh-what do you want?" you ask way too shyly to even get close to scaring them in the sightliest.

"Where d'you get that bow?" you hear a scruffy voice ask. A scruffy, grumpy voice.

"S'mine." you spit back, watching closely as the man named Rick keeps his hand on top of his Colt which is tugged away in an holster on the side of his hips.

"Like hell it is." you hear the stranger snap but you can't see him, even if you squint your eyes.

"It is! Wh-what's your problem, dude!" you snarl, swallowing tears of pain and panic back and trying to hide the fact that you're fucking terrified right now, "S'all I have- it's all I have left." you whisper more to yourself than to him or them, a tear making a daring escape from your eyes.

Before you know it though, you end up face to face with the sharp end of an arrow, it's right between your eyes. If he takes that shot, he shoots to kill.

"You ain't gonna have shit left in a secon' if you keep fuckin' lyin' t'me-"

"Daryl, that's enough!" you hear the woman you've heard earlier snap at him to that arrow never leaves your forehead.

wait, what?

"That bow ain't hers to have!" the man barks and you finally muster up the courage to look up at him.

"D-Daryl?" you ask, your breath caught in your throat and tears silently falling down your face as you're filled with what might as well be false joy and anxiousness.

The man moves his crossbow out of your face to look at you and his eyebrows furrow for a minute as he just stands there, his feet on either side of your body, his eyes narrowed down at you and, finally, you see his expression softening and you know. You know that you know this man but, then again, maybe your wounds are playing tricks on you. For all you know, you might be having hallucinations as you're just being gutted by a bunch of walkers.

"[Y/n]?" he asks just as intrigued and uncertain as you, though you can't see his hands shaking.

His face looks so familiar but, at the same time, it looks completely foreign. His voice sounds like home but it's also completely unknown to you. The only things that looks really, really familiar are his eyes and the way he speaks, maybe even the frame of his body?

What you do know though is that; the way he said your name is like a slap across the face. It's almost too much for you to take, it is too much for you to take and, between your wounds, the throbbing pain you're feeling cursing through your entire body, the exhaustion and now... this, whatever this is, you get overwhelmed and end up completely crushed under the pressure of it all.

You start crying your heart out, terror, relief, joy and pain mixing each other up and coming out as a storm of sobs and tears... and a runny nose.

Your body twitches when a pair of hands gently snake beneath your body, one in the middle of your back and the other carefully grabbing the right side of your waist, a hand landing directly on the exit bullet point on the back of your belly and put presure down on it, before you're being softly picked up off the ground. Your head ends up in the crook of the, possibly, stranger's neck and, the second you breath in, you know.

The man smells of sweat, dirt, blood and something else, something that you don't know how to describe, let alone name, but still know all too well, it's the smell you grew up falling asleep wrapped into like a blanket, it's the smell of home.

Completely ignoring your pain, you push your head even further in your old friend's neck and weakly get a hold of his jacket with both of your hands, "Daryl-Daryl, it hurts."

"I got ya, s'okay, s'okay." he says barely above a whisper, trying to figure out what the hell is happening, trying to figure out if he's having some kind of terrifyingly realistic daydream or if you're actually really here, in his arms... bleeding out and clearly in a lot of pain, "Shit, Rick, we gotta take her back." is the last thing you hear clearly before your ears start to ring obnoxiously loud.

His friend silently look over to the rest of the group and they all seem to be as lost as he is but still seem to all be favorable to take you back to wherever they want to take you back to and, before you can even ask yourself if this is really happening, if he's truly right here, with you;  you black out, your eyes buzzing and your eyes still letting out silent tears. 





"So, you gonna tell me who she is or what, Dixon?" Rick asks before sitting down next to Daryl which is sitting right next to the bed you're laying on, his bloody hand holding yours, which is just as bloody.

"Merle was- Merle taught her her very first curse word." Daryl says with a small smile, making his friend chuckle, "And uh, she- I dunno, man, fuck- I thought- That night was fucking insane, y'know? The army was fucking everywhere, shooting people, pretending that they fucking knew what they were doing, that no one had to panic and, shit..." he sighs, looking down at your passed out figure on the bed, "[Y/n], she uh- Well, she's hard headed, y'know? When she's got some' in mind, she always finds a way and- She wanted to get us out of Atlanta, she tried- She knew somethin' wasn't right, y'know? And, shit, she didn't appreciate being lied to so, when she saw that the army was starting to drop fucking napalm all over the fucking city, she decided to bail us out, thing was- Old man Dixon wasn't fucking here so, there she was, telling us to go ahead, that she'll go and get the old man." he lets out a dry chuckle at the memory before clearing his throat and straightening back up in his chair, "I told her to stay with us but, hell, she didn't want our poor excuse of a father t'die when he was probably drunk or high while the fucking world was falling apart or whatever. Anyway, she ran back to our house and, shit, we ain't seen her again after that- Hell, I don't even know if she ever made it to our house." he pauses and takes a long look at your bloody face before looking back at Rick, "I though, when I joined our lil' group outside of Atlanta- I thought that I might find her 'round the area, looked for her every goddamn day when I was out huntin', couldn't find her though, but, shit- I mean- There she is, m'just pissed I couldn't find her in time, y'know?"

"It ain't your fault, Daryl. Besides, she's alright now, we just gotta keep an eye on her. Denise's here for that, alright?"

"Yeah, I know-"

"Y'sure about that? No, 'cause, last time I heard, you didn't want to leave the girl alone with her. So, what's that about?" Rick asks, genuinely curious.

"I don't want her to go anywhere, a'right?" Daryl grumpily admits.

"Hey," his friend starts, his hand gently patting his tensed up shoulder, "I get it, Daryl, but, if you want her to be safe then you're gonna have to let Denise do her job, alright?"

"She passed out when we were taking that fuckin' bullet out of her fuckin' shoulder and, fuck, I can't fucking stand to see her cry like that and- Fuckin' hell, the fuckin' screams, man."

"I know, Daryl, been there." Rick says, finish his sentence quietly, saying it more for himself than directing to Daryl.

"I know, man. M'sorry, don't mean t'be a prick or anythin'. I know you and Carl- M'sorry, man, it's just that- I still remember her as a fucking child, y'know? S'hard to just- Get used to the fact that she's all grown an' shit. She don't need nobody, she never did... She was only fifteen when this shit started, man." Daryl sadly whispers, unsure if he's talking to Rick or just reminiscing out loud.

"The bullet's out. Denise stitched her all up, now we just have to keep an eye on her. It'll be fine, Daryl."

"You cool with her stickin' around after?" Daryl asks, finally looking up at his friend, hoping to hear exactly what he wants to hear.

"You trust her?"

"I don't want any of our people in danger, y'know that but, I dunno, man. I don't really know her anymore, y'know? Gotta talk to her and whatnot." he admits with an heavy heart as he realizes that he, indeed, doesn't know who you are, who you've become.

"Then we'll talk to her when she'll wake up and we'll figure thangs out, how d'that sound?"

"S'cool with me. How 'bout the others though?"

"They're just curious as to who she is to you, s'all. They seem to be sayin' that as long as you trust her then they're cool with her too."

With one last friendly pat on Daryl's shoulder, Rick leaves the room, leaving a passed out you with a really confused Daryl.





11:00 PM //

Your eyes flutter open, a sharp pain shooting up through your tummy to your neck, making your body twitch in protest. You let out a small squeal as you carefully sit down on the mattress that you're on, you have no idea where the hell you are but it's neat and way too normal looking for you liking.

You jump slightly on the bed when you spot a man sleeping in a chair right next to your bed, a loaded crossbow laying right below his hand, reaching for use. You also spot your backpack propped against a wall on the other side of the room, it's open but, at least, you see that your bow is still in it so you know that they didn't take it.

You carefully look at the man sleeping next to you. You know who he is but you're terrified at the idea of all of this being a fever dream, of him not being real and you won't be able to deal with that, you just know it.

You want to be happy, scream in joy, hug him, kiss his face, tell him just how much you've been missing him, how worried you were but you can't, you're scared. What if he isn't really here? What if today is just some weird, twisted, dream. And even if he really is there, maybe he's changed so much that he won't be anything like the Daryl you grew up around and that scares you more than to possibility of this being a dream because it'll like having him back but not really, like he's right here but he's not?

Your heart almost jumps out of your chest when you snap out of your thoughts only to realize that Daryl is now fully awake, looking straight at you, clearly as confused as you are.

"Y-you-You're here, th-that's you- Y-you're real? I- Pl-please-" you mumble in a word-vomit, confused and shaking in fear, looking at him as if he'll vanish if you so much as blink and you're not willing to take that risk.

"M'here, I'm here." he whispers before carefully taking your shaking hands in one of his, "We're both here, s'okay."

"I-I mi-missed you s-so-so mu-much and- and I thought that- I thought that I-"

You can't bring yourself to form a proper sentence, it's all too much for you to handle as your eyes stay glued to his hand completely engulfing both of yours. But, then, Daryl does the one thing you really badly needed him to do, he stands up and softly wraps his arms around your shaking frame, resting his forehead on top of your head, breathing in the scent laying in your hair. He's always said that you have that one spot he loved on top of your head because it always smells like you no matter what and it usually made you laugh or blush but, this time, it makes you cry.

Being in his arms is something you needed, something you've missed for so, so long, it's about damn time you got him back. Him hugging you, that's what you needed to know that this isn't some weird, hurtful dream that you'll wake up crying your heart from, you won't have to.

"I missed you too." he whispers on top of your head before tightening his grip on you, "Where the hell have ya been?"

"A-all over the pl-place." you say with a shaky giggle, making him chuckle softly in your hair, "Ho-how about y-you?"

"Well," he sighs before letting go of you and sitting back down next to your bed, facing you, and you have to stop a whine of disapproval when his familiar warmth and smell leave you, "all over the place's a good way to put it, actually."

You take a good long look at him; his hair grew and it seems like they're taking control over his face but you really like it, he has a stubble and he looks like he could use some more sleep.

"What the hell happened to ya?" he asks, snapping you out of your contemplation.

"I-I d-don't know, I go-got shot an-and my fr-friend's mi-missing and I don't know wh-where he went o-or- or if-" you take a moment to come to term with the fact that Randall might not be alive anymore, you don't want to think about it but now that's all you can think of, "I don't know if-if he's still alive o-or not, Daryl."

"M'sorry, [y/n] but- I mean- You can stay here, with us- with me?"

"Daryl-" you start, about to tell him that that's not what you do, how you live but he's quick to cut you off.

"They good people, they are. They're my family and- so are you." he audibly swallows the lump stuck in his throat, "I don't wanna lose you again."

"Wait-" you start, finding something wrong with what he just said, "Wh-what about Merle? Where-where is he?" you carefully watch Daryl and see his face dropping slightly and you know. Of course you know, "Please- No, he's not- How?"

"He wanted to be the good guy for once." is all Daryl says, leaving you to imagine what went down.

"What happened to you? I mean- Y'know- There's a bunch of crazy people out there nowadays- D'you ever get into trouble?" you ask, trying to keep yourself from dwelling on the fact that Merle is gone, your mind refusing to process the information anyways.

"We did, a whole bunch o' times but- We fought through and we got out of it, lost some real good folks on the way, too."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about them and I'm sorry about M-Merle." you say before letting a soft giggle out, making Daryl's head snap up to look at you, "I love it. I love hearing you say "we"." you admit with a tired smile and a slight shrug, "You to be surrounded by good people, you deserve it, Daryl, and I'm so glad that you seem to have find them. I'm happy that you have your own little family, Daryl, I really am."

"Y'could be a part of that, ya know."

"I'll pay my debt, your people saved my life and I'll pull my weight around to help get back the supplies you've lost on me-"

"They ain't lost, [y/n]-"

"Daryl, please, just let me have that, please?" you cut him off, your eyes screwed shut and a frown making your forehead wrinkle, "Let me help your people out, I can pull my weight, I swear."

"Then what, uh? You just gonna leave? You gonna leave me again? What makes ya think I'm okay with that shit?" he lowly snarls out.

"I'm not asking you to be okay with it, Dixon!" you snap, your fatigue and your wounds making it hard for you to have much patience at the moment.

He's about to spit something back at you when he spots blood soaking up the sheets of his bed and he understands that you're outburst must have broken the stitches on your belly. He's quick to get to you and softly tells you to lay back down before shoving the sheets off of your body, you're fully clothed yet you're freezing the second the warm blankets leave you.

He calmly applies pressure on the re-opened wound, clumsily grabbing a gauze Denise gave him just in case before replacing his hand with the medical tissue.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"Remember that time when I got into an accident with Merle's bike?" he quietly asks you and you silently nod, "I was fucking terrible to you. Was always declining your help, always snappin' at ya 'cause I wanted to do things by myself even though I couldn't fuckin' move a muscle after the accident. I forced it on ya to take of me and patch me up that night 'cause I didn't wanna go to the fuckin' hospital like a normal fuckin' person... I was fucking terrible yet, you never gave it up. You'd tell me to shut up, suck it up and let things go for once. You didn't give up on my sorry ass because you cared... M'not about to give up on your hard headed ass either." he says, his eyes focused on the hand he's using to put pressure on your wound with, "I don't care how many fights we'll get in, I don't give a shit 'cause that's how it's gonna be from now on, you gon' have to learn to let things go, [y/n]."

"Have you?" you ask in a hushed whisper before biting down on your lower lip, trying not to move around too much whilst he takes care of your wound but it hurts like a bitch on steroids.

"Yeah, but I didn't do it all on my own, y'know? Rick helped with that, the others too."

"Rick? Isn't he the guy with the machete?"

"Yeah, s'him. He has to be the closet friend I ever had. I trust him, no doubt and you should too, he's a good man just don't fuck with his family, s'dangerous."

"Yeah, well, you do what you gotta do- Ouch, okay, that fucking hurts!"

"M'sorry, sorry." he quickly apologizes, putting his hand away but letting the gauze soak up the blood pouring out of your freshly re-opened wound.

"S'okay, I'm alright. I'm sorry if I scared you, it just- It really hurts." you admit, swallowing your tears back, "Anyways-" you pause to clear your throat, "When will I get to meet him? I m-mean- you know, I'd like t-to say th-thank you, he did save my life a-after all."

"You'll see him t'morrow, alright? For now, get some sleep." he says as he carefully bandages your wound, hoping that it'll do the trick at least until tomorrow, then it'll be for Denise to handle.

"Where am I, by the way?" you ask, squinting as you look around the room, the only source of light being the lamp on the nightstand to the left of the bed you're in. The windows are covered by thick curtains but there's no sunlight coming out from underneath the fabric so you assume it must the middle of the night.

"Alexandria." Daryl says and he chuckles when you look back at him with a confused frown and ask him, "What d'you call me?"

"S'where we live, it's safe, you're safe." he finishes with a tired smile,