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zirconika · 2 months

Note

I would love if you could write a fluffy negan x fem!reader one shot, there is genuinely not enough!!! I can’t think of any prompts tho I’m sorry 😭 but if you’re not able to write it then it’s all good🫶🏻

déjà vu

⇚ NAVIGATION || MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Negan Smith x Fem!Grimes!Reader WORDS: 3.6k SUMMARY: Being in charge of guarding Negan’s cell has given you plenty of opportunities to spend time with him against your will, but you unexpectedly end up bonding with him. Which is why nothing could have prepared you for finding out that you’ve met before and how. (Reader is Rick’s sister) WARNINGS: fluff, blood … idk what to say just read it!!! SETTING: post-negan alexandria A/N: oh my god nonnie u r absolutely correct i just checked there’s a concerning shortage in negan fluff so ask and you shall receive!!! ps im nawt sure what u had in mind so i hope this works

You hated Negan. End of story.

“Why do I have to be the one to do all this?” you’d complain to yourself every time you were handed the food you’d have to deliver to his cell. But you knew why. Your grief and your injury made you a liability than an asset out in the field, thus you found yourself assigned to something worse than desk duty—Negan duty.

The day your brother presumably died, you were so close to reaching him. Just a couple more steps ahead of you and you could have saved him…

But upon the explosion of the bridge had you skidding away, having you hit your head down on the harsh surface of the ground, blood spilling from under the back of your head as well as your broken leg… It had gotten blurry, but it happened nonetheless.

You were bedridden for a week, and you hated it—being left all alone to bear the weight of your grief. The communities were in shambles, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to lead just like your brother did.

When you got better, the ‘council’ refused to let you out, assigning you instead to managing the damned prisoner you had never once bothered to visit for any reason ever since he got locked up.

Now, there you were everyday, feeding the sick bastard canned tuna for breakfast.

“Where’s the other guy?” he had asked you on the first day you stopped by. Without a word, you gave him his plate, only to sit down across from him, your arms crossed.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m just doing my job.”

“Goddamn,” he said, that grin of his spirited as ever. Fuck this guy. You started to think of ways you could poison his meals without anyone knowing. “They gave you the fun work from home job? Not cool!”

The first time you met Negan was when he came by Alexandria. You weren’t there when the line-up happened, but it changed Rick. You’d never seen your brother so lost, disconnected from himself and everyone.

He didn’t eat the first meal you brought him, or the second, not even the third.

For a while, it was just like that—you glaring at him while he talked all about… Well, Negan talked about everything. He never seemed to shut up. At least when you were around. When you got better, you began going out again to go on supply runs and when you returned to fulfill your tasks of distributing his food, you also began to notice the change in him.

“Took you long enough,” he said. This time, he really took the time to dig in. “How was the outside? Fun?”

“It was alright,” you said. You’d been against holding a conversation with him, having carried the anger you thought your brother deserved to harness against him. But you’d been feeling so alone the entire time, you decided talking wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “Found a box of canned goods, so that’s that. Good thing I don’t have any assholes taking half of whatever I got.”

“Ha ha,” Negan deadpanned as he continued eating. “I was worried you’d never show up. Been meaning to finally talk to someone.”

“What, you don’t blabber your ass off to any of the guys who’ve visited you?”

“Hell no,” he responded, looking at you as if what you just suggested was the worst thing in the world.

Racking your mind on why on Earth would this dipshit find you entertaining to talk to despite you not holding any form of conversation throughout your entire time together last time, you decided there was only one possible reason. “You think I’m easy to crack.”

“No, are you crazy?” He looked up at you with a grin on his face as he ate his meal from his seat. “You just seem like the listener type. A lot of you Grimes do.”

You wanted to ask what he meant by that, but you kept your mouth shut. You let him talk his ass off until he finished his food before you wordlessly took his plate.

As you were about to leave the room, he called out to you. “This gonna be a regular thing?”

“I hope not,” you said as you stepped out and closed the door behind you, with no intention of making this your daily routine.

Except it eventually did. You don’t know how it happened, but it just did, and you let it. At one point, you started bringing him the food you cooked for yourself, asking him if it was good.

“Are you kidding me?” Negan said in between chews of the spaghetti you made. “I’d go as damn far as saying you might’ve beaten me in my own game.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned, parallel to what he’d replied to you on the first day of your routine. “You’re just trying to get me to open your gate for you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s the thing that just tickles ma balls.”

“Fucker,” you laughed.

You brought him all sorts of dishes you tried to cook. You would’ve asked Carol for help, but years after Rick’s death, everyone maintained a sort of distance from each other. It didn’t help that the Kingdom was hours away, and if you brought any of the food you made, it would’ve been rotten by the time you got there thanks to the heat.

It surprised you how easy it was to talk to him. Some days, you’d forget he was even a prisoner, but more of your friend. Then you’d remember everything he’s done and you’d become distant at times. Negan never commented on it, but he noticed it.

Michonne wanted to ask about why you were making food suitable for two people, but even she felt the gap between the two of you. You loved Michonne, but there was definitely a rift there somewhere.

The only time you’d hang out was when you were at the dinner table with her and the kids, and even then the two of you would only talk about whatever it was the kids wanted to talk about.

You were more close to Judith. For one, she was also fun to talk to.

You and Negan had that preference in common—talking to Judith Grimes.

It was thanks to Judith you found out about something. After reading to her in bed, you noticed she seemed to still be wide awake. “What, you’re not sleepy yet?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you,” she said, seemingly scared of something. You wondered if Negan had threatened her, that maybe his kindness towards you was in preparation for something sinister.

“Tell me what?”

Judith beckoned you to come closer. You oblige. To your surprise, your niece leaned into your ear to whisper, “Someone has a crush on you!”

You had a feeling who she was referring to. “Who?”

Judith backed away, sinking into her blanket. “I can’t say!”

“Well, what did this someone say?”

“I can’t tell you! Goodnight, Auntie!” And then Judith covered her blanket over her head, guilty about what she’d said. Could it be?

“You’re really not gonna tell me?” you teased your niece. But you knew that once Judith’s made up her mind, that was it. You watched as the blanket shifted left and right out of Judith shaking her head. “Alright, then. Good night, baby.”

Alas, you weren’t able to have your questions answered when you found out about Negan escaping.

You couldn’t find the words to describe how you were feeling, because it felt wrong to admit you even did feel anything. Maybe he was just using me so I wouldn’t notice his plans to escape… Did he always have plans to escape? Did he get out because of me?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When he returned, he looked forward to seeing you again. While waiting, he fidgeted with his fingers. Negan Smith was a man of boastful performances; he always knew how to exude confidence in any situation. Coming back into his cell, he was so sure he’d have a fun time slipping back to your old routine together.

His heart almost leapt out of his throat when the door opened for the second time. The first time, he thought it was you, but he just got a whole lecture about everything.

It bored him to death. He’d returned. There was nothing for him out there, and even if there was… It didn’t matter anymore.

You had to ignore the familiarity in what he called you…

“Hey, gorgeous. Missed me?” He excitedly watched as you came in, his friendly grin faltering when he realized you came in with the food he was originally given during his first few years of imprisonment.

Canned tuna.

“What, no new meal you want me to test today?” he asked, albeit nervously. To Negan’s dismay, his confidence was wavering. “Hellooo?”

Instead of sitting or standing right next to his cell, you sat at the spot you’d taken on the first day. You crossed your arms.

“Oh, you’re pissed.”

You stared at him coldly. It bothered him, really. He’d gotten so used to seeing you with a warm, friendly smile on your face. He thought he’d have the luxury of seeing it again as soon as he returned.

Instead, he was met by your cold script, “Finish your meal.”

Negan began to strategize, thinking of how he wanted his play to be. In an attempt to reclaim his confidence, he decided to play the stubborn card, saying, “Nope.”

But you weren’t in the mood to play. “Alright, then don’t eat.”

“Fine,” he challenged.

But you weren’t the kind to back down either. “Fine.”

You were curious to know the story behind that subtle flash of recognition in his face that disappeared as soon as it came. It piqued your interest, as you recall having this conversation a long time ago…

Deja vu, you thought to yourself.

To your surprise, Negan shook his head. “Jeez, just got goosebumps. Got deja vu there for a minute, it’s insane.”

Though you were intent on maintaining distance from the prisoner, you couldn’t help but ask. It surely was easy to talk to the guy, you had to give him that. “You felt that, too?”

“Felt what?”

“Deja vu,” you clarified. Negan watched as you stood up to approach his cell. “Like it happened before.”

“Is it just me, or are we literally doing some batshit telepathy right now?” Negan jokes. “Makes me think it’s a soulmate thing.”

“It’s not a soulmate thing.” You wrap your fingers around a bar of his cell, contemplating where you might have had that conversation. The first time you met Negan, you felt as if his voice was familiar.

You searched the deepest crevices of your mind, trying to recall a time in your life when you might have possibly met the prisoner. One look at him and you knew he was doing the same.

Nothing came to mind.

“Fine.”

Except for one. Holy shit. He wasn’t sure, but a part of him felt like it was yanking something out from a library in his mind.

He set it aside for now. He wanted to talk to you first, properly. “[Y/N], this is gonna be a strange request but… Could you come in?”

“What?” you ask, snapping out from your focus. “Why would I do that?”

“Just get in the damn cell.”

“How do I know you won’t trick me just so you could slip out?”

His face screwed up into a frown. “Because I’m not even gonna try. I came back; I chose to. Because of you.”

“What?” you ask again, lost more than ever. It felt wrong that you were expecting something. This was Negan.

The same Negan who…

You shook your head. And you don’t know what force of nature propelled you to be stupid, but you oblige with his request. You sat down next to him on his cot in his cell.

Your backs were to the wall. It felt comfortable somehow. You eyed the stack of books he’d sped through reading whenever he was alone.

Negan set the plate of canned tuna aside, putting his hands on his lap. “You know why I came back?”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

The prisoner laughed, and an unsaid guilt clawed at you from the back of your mind, saying whatever this was… It was wrong. But with Negan, you never felt like you were alone. Which is why it sucked when he left.

“No, stupid. Because there was nothing for me out there.”

“What makes you think there’s something for you here?”

He looked at you this time, his eyes free of the malice you were used to seeing constantly present. “You.”

You had to scoff. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He thought back to all the times you’d sat right next to him with bars separating the two of you. How he’d never felt so welcomed except for in your presence.

How he waited for you to visit him. How he was constantly excited for the next time you’d come. How he’d get frustrated whenever it was someone else who’d open the door.

“Thought I was done for,” he confessed. “Until you came and I… I told myself I’d make amends with you out of respect for your brother and your nephew, bless their souls. Then you started visiting me by routine. I knew it was your job, but I never felt like I was behind bars whenever I was with you.”

You didn’t know what to say.

“It means I like you, if you didn’t get that.” He nudged your elbow, looking at you as if he were already expecting you to turn him down. “I just wanted to tell you so you’d understand.”

“I like you, too,” you blurted out.

This time, Negan was the one who couldn’t seem to find the right words to say, much less at least even any words at all.

“Rick dying like that… It changed me. Changed everyone, really. Nothing was ever the same and I couldn’t do anything about it. I felt alone, and I’m grateful you were there when I grieved. It just… Feels wrong to feel this way about you.”

Negan nodded. “I get it.”

You felt his hand on top of yours, rubbing it. He didn’t even realize he’d done it, but he left your hand alone when he noticed he did. You wish he didn’t.

But you had to be brave. Shamelessly, you grabbed his hand in yours, lacing your fingers with his. Negan let you. “You suck at this game, asshole.”

And the two of you froze. He knew where he knew you from, and so did you.

“Ho-ly shit,” Negan started. “Are you GorgeousArsenal777?”

It all made sense now. Holy shit, indeed. “You’re SaviorNutsack69?”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Way before the apocalypse, Negan had made it his personal mission to destroy every single child XBOX Games. First was Gears of War.

But he decided he wanted more than just a game with a co-op campaign mode. He needed to obliterate opponents in a ranked multiplayer combat game. It wasn’t that he hated them, he just needed a win…

He found a guaranteed win when he matched with MrPuddingCyborg. It was an easy win, really. It was very clear that whoever was behind that avatar was a newbie, thus it was easy for Negan to rank up.

“Fuckin’ loser,” he said, turning on his mic. “I bet you picked that username ‘cause you thought it was cool, didn’t you! It isn’t!”

“Your technique sucks!” a little boy on the other end said, furious.

“Pants pisser,” Negan said one last time before beginning the game. “Are you shittin’ your pants now? What’re you gonna do, tell your mom?”

The growling on the other end stopped, meaning the kid turned off his mic. Negan scoffed, sensing victory from miles away. “What a fucking crybaby.”

Looking for the same benefits of winning, he requested a rematch. MrPuddingCyborg accepted. Negan leaned back, knowing it was gonna be a cake walk when—

You were killed by MrPuddingCyborg.

What?

Negan’s avatar respawned, but his tactic was used against him.

You were killed by MrPuddingCyborg.

It went on like that for a while until the two words he most dreaded to find on the screen flashed before him: GAME OVER.

Game over? No way.

Negan ended their match, frustrated to find that his failure jeopardized his progress in getting up to a higher rank.

Affected by his loss, Negan kept playing with two different players before finally getting to the third player.

Negan grinned to himself, gripping his controller with the drive to defeat everyone, but for now, GorgeousArsenal777 would be the one to get the heat.

To his delight, he got the first win. He exclaimed with a mischievous laugh. “Haha! One for Virginia!”

But that was just it.

Negan watched in horror as the player obliterated him in every round. He could already imagine his rank getting lower and lower…

He turned on his microphone. “The fuck’s that about? Are you trolling me right now?”

“Troll you for what? Coins you don’t have?,” taunted a girl on the other end as they waited for the intermission time to finish so they could leave the lobby and play another round. “Checked your account, saw you’ve been here for half a year and you’re still in a mid-tier rank. News flash, you suck at this game, asshole.”

“Game on, Gorgeous.”

“Suck my nutsack,” said the voice on the other end. Somewhere almost ten hours away south of Virginia, you clutched your nephew’s controller with a burning desire to destroy the gaming career of this fucker who pissed off your nephew.

Negan watched in poorly disguised horror as the words notified him of his losses on the screen.

You were killed by GorgeousArsenal777.

“Listen here, Gorgeous,” he started. Whatever relaxation Negan had was gone. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, concentrating more than ever. “I am gonna make you regret that you ever got a console.”

You snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”

Negan was dead serious. “Fine.”

“Fine,” you fired back. And just in time, you sent a bomb his way, killing him for another time.

You killed SaviorNutsack69.

While you waited for the next round in the lobby, you and your nephew watched as SaviorNutsack69 approached your avatar. The two of you couldn’t help but snicker as he did.

His mic turned on again. “You’re a cheat.”

You resisted calling him a virgin seeing that he came from Virginia, acknowledging the presence of your eleven year old nephew sitting right behind you with his legs crossed, giggling.

“I could’ve beaten this guy,” Carl said with a laugh.

“I know, pumpkin.” You gave the kid a warm smile before turning back to the screen, eager to destroy this man further. “But guys like SaviorNutsack69 deserve to be obliterated.”

You turned your mic back on. “Not my fault you suck. Look at your avatar, dipshit.”

You and Carl snickered on your end, giggling.

The guy on the other end laughed mirthlessly. “I do not appreciate you talking ass about my Limited Edition skin.”

“Sorry you’re not more appreciative,” you quipped, resisting the urge to laugh out loud. “And sorry you can’t rock a leather jacket like I can.”

Negan hated leather jackets, thought it was too hot. He preferred those loose zip-up hoodies. But was not gonna tell GorgeousArsenal777 on the off chance that she uses it as substance to say he just couldn’t pull it off.

“I can so rock a leather jacket, shitface.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” And then he left the lobby before the game could start. You and your nephew burst out laughing at the thought of the dude getting a leather jacket.

He was nothing to the two of you three minutes later, because you let Carl play with his account after that. But SaviorNutsack69? He was not the type to back down from a fight even long after it had ended.

700 miles from Georgia, SaviorNutsack69 got up from his chair and drove to the mall. He ran into the edgiest store he could find with purpose and unapologetically purchased the coolest leather jacket he could find.

And the rest is history.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The two of you sat there in silence, the thought of having met before all of this…

It was refreshing—the prospect of destiny. Or maybe it was just a coincidence. Either way, it made you an ounce closer to him.

He grinned. Negan thought back to the leather jacket he abandoned before returning. “Hey, you’re the genius behind my look.”

“Guess I am,” you mused.

Your shoulder brushed against his, and you could have sworn there was electricity there somewhere.

“Feels like a rocky start to a love story, huh?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

“You think this is a love story?” you asked him nervously.

Negan thought about it for a second, grinning. “I don’t know, do you?”

“Well,” you started. You paused before standing up and leaving his cell. Before leaving, you looked back at him with a smile. “We’ll see.”

“See what?” Negan stood up, holding the bars of his cell only to realize that it wasn’t locked.

“If you’re as bad on garden duty as you are on Call of Duty,” you taunted him with the same spirit you had from all those years ago. “Maybe then I’ll consider if it’s a love story.”

And that was it. You liked Negan, but that was just the beginning of a whole new story. You just knew you were lucky enough to have gotten the chance to meet again.

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the-dixon-effect · 1 year

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Lover, you should've come over

A/N: i had this idea a while ago just never got around to writing it. it's v fluffy, a little angsty and just the right amount of trauma, and the title from jeff buckley ofc. hope you enjoy lovelies :')

era: season 6, pre-Negan Alexandria

prompt: "Ya don't ever have to say sorry. Not to me."

summary: Y/N is feeling particularly affected by her past trauma sometime during the group's transition to the suburban atmosphere of Alexandria.

words: 1.5k

pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

warnings: self-harm, anxiety, suggestive

9pm The garage; dark, gloomy, the perfect hiding spot.

The rest of the group was having dinner, courteously cooked by Carol, in the dining area of your shared house. Rick was right, it was going to take some considerable time before everyone properly adjusted to the strange atmosphere of the unaffected suburban paradise that was Alexandria. It seemed, however, that despite the incredible amount of time your people, your family, had spent surviving outside these walls, everybody was fitting in just fine.

The houses were strange, untouched, and the people even stranger. It was like this tiny pocket of the new world was a time capsule, a preserved artefact of an ancient time, all but forgotten to most. It felt like if you were to get too close, immerse yourself too much, the time would come when this place would come crashing down, and bring you down with it. Not only did this place feel like a fever dream about the old world, it also brought back certain memories from the past that you'd tried so desperately to leave behind.

So here you were, an empty seat at the dining room table. You pressed your back against the wall and hugged your legs to your chest. You wondered if they would even notice you weren't there.

Almost-silent sniffles were the only sounds that filled the dim room. The last of the daylight filtered through the tiny gap between the garage door and the ground. You rolled up the sleeves of your flannel shirt to reveal a checkerboard of familiar scratches and cuts, only half visible due to the distinct lack of light in the room. Your head rolled backwards, almost on its own, and hit the wall with a thud. Your eyes swelled with tears just as quick as the memories had come flooding back.

Maybe it wasn't this place. Or the people. Maybe it was just you. No point running now, you thought. You can escape from everything and everyone you love, but you'll never escape yourself, a part of you tried to tell yourself. No matter how far you run, your past, your scars, they will always remain.

9:30pm Despite Y/N's assumption that her absence at dinner would go unnoticed, she was wrong. A certain archer's eyes searched for yours but failed to meet them across the table. "Where's Y/N?" he asked, filling the silence. When all he received was a fleeting glance around the room from members of the group, he swiftly returned to his former position of silence.

"She's probably over at Aaron and Eric's. I heard they were having a couple people over for dinner tonight," said Michonne, a little dismissively.

Daryl shared your feelings about this strange community, and he too understood your lack of trust. Even before adjusting to the end of the world, he certainly would have felt uneasy in a place like this. People like him, like you, they're not supposed to be living in a place like this, pretending to forget about the world outside the walls. Paradise is no place for us, he thought.

Once dinner was finished and the chatter had died down, Daryl slipped off in an effort to find you, and he couldn't help but worry.

9:45pm After searching the whole damn neighbourhood and finding no one who knew where you were, he started to assume the worst. What if she left, ran away somehow? What if she went on a run and got hurt? No, no, he couldn't lose you, not when the both of you had just got here.

Suddenly he remembered the conversation he had with you last night, out on the porch. The stars were out, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you could look up and admire them in somewhat safety. And they were beautiful. And the two of you sat and talked and talked and just watched those stars. He loved to just listen to you, in truth, he wanted to hear all your stories. Even the bad ones, the regretful ones, perhaps he just needed to hear your voice. He thought back to something you'd said, and his mind suddenly went overdrive with worry. A particular memory you'd recalled, and said that you'd never told anybody this before, alluding to an especially bad habit you'd broken. Could that be... self-harm? He was pretty sure he'd seen those marks on your arm, or he saw something, at least, that wasn't caused by walkers.

He started to go over every single place in his mind where you might be hiding, doing more harm to yourself than good by not speaking up. Your bedroom, the attic, the basement, the yard, the garage. The one place the rest of the group wouldn't think to look for you, if they even came looking at all, you thought. Except for Daryl, who had been working in there on his bike all day.

You could even sense it now, the oil, the tools, and the summer heat, even in the nighttime. As you thought of him, the whole place started to feel like him. You weren't even sure if you liked it or not, the familiar fondness you'd developed for him, but despite your loveable manner, you were so determined to be alone. To not appear as some anxious little presence going about the place.

The door swung open and the first thing you noticed was the light that streamed in, illuminating your tear-stained face.

"Y/N! Y/N, are ya' in here?" You buried your face in your hands as you approached the archer, weakly.

"Hey, hey, what's goin' on?" he drawled. Daryl placed his torch down and stepped a little closer to you, not in a threatening, fearsome way, but in an intimate way, a way that felt like you could be safe with him.

"Can- Do you think you could shut the door?" you said, sniffling a little as you spoke. He followed your request and returned to where he stood before, deep blue eyes locked on your pitiful face.

10pm It felt like there was nothing to be said, no way to express your feelings in a way that somebody could understand. It would be just perfect if, in this moment, he was able to read your mind somehow. Hesitantly, you rolled up your sleeves as you had done before and looked straight up at him with those wide eyes. It was a sight to behold, that was for sure, and if he could put aside every ounce of sorrow he felt just looking at the scars, he was grateful to be the one who you came to.

"This place, it's like- it's like a well," you were struggling to speak. The tears were flowing now, and you felt embarrassed to have this much emotion on display. "Couple days after we got here, I just started to remember, you know. The stuff you don't wanna remember. Just feel trapped, you know," your voice seemed to trail away as your closed your eyes. Nothing to be done now, you supposed.

When you looked up at Daryl again, you were suddenly overcome by a rush of guilt. "Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Daryl..."

He pulled you into a tight hug at once and whispered into your soft hair that he held so gently. "No, no darlin'..." he spoke. "Ya' don't ever have to say sorry. Not to me." Perhaps if you were thinking straight you would've tried a little harder to appreciate the moment. His distinct scent, the notes of sweet cigarettes, pinewood and thunderstorms. Instead, you cried into his shoulder as his other hand rubbed gentle lines up and down your back.

You pulled away from the embrace, keeping your arms draped around his neck. He was captured by those pretty eyes of yours, though glassed over completely, and held the silent eye contact. He lifted his right hand and softly held your arm, tracing your goosebumps with his calloused fingertips. And you just stared up at him, looking for the reassurance in his eyes that you knew you would always find.

Sensing your pain, Daryl brought your forearm to his lips and pressed sweet kisses on those same self-inflicted scars. You gazed up at him and mustered the best smile you could, as a sign to continue. You slipped off your flannel shirt revealing the little white t-shirt that you wore underneath. Moving further up the length of your arm, he planted soft kisses on your shoulder, and then your neck. The intimacy brought more overstimulated tears to your straining eyes. The only thing you knew how to do in this moment was simply grip him tighter. "Never let me go," you whispered.

Perhaps you didn't need to be alone after all.

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rite4fun · 1 year

Text

long hair, don’t care

rewatching twd series again and i’ve made it to the negan arc and i don’t think i’ll ever get over the “pee pee city” line 😭

with that said, enjoy some fluffy fluff 🤭

••

the lamp casted a yellow hue in the room, the only noise being the light sounds of your footsteps as you got ready for bed and the running water coming from the bathroom.

you’re just settling into bed, a large shirt covering your frame when the door opens and daryl is walking out, towel drying his hair before shaking it out messily.

you admire his glistening broad shoulders and the dip of his waist as he walks to the closet, disappearing for a few seconds before reappearing with just his briefs on. he makes his rounds, checking the door, the window and then the door again before standing near the end of the bed, stretching his arms out and up as he attempts to crack his back. he rolls his shoulders, wincing and grabbing one to massage the sting away.

you frown, lifting the blankets up as you crawl towards him, “come here”

he listens as he sits on the edge, back facing you as you settle onto your knees behind him before resting on your haunches, shuffling closer until his warm body was between your thighs. your fingers dance up his back before pressing down over his shoulders.

you listen to the soft grunts he lets out at your ministrations, rubbing out the tight spots of his body, knowing it will help him sleep better. his hair tickles at your fingers and your eyes take in the wet strands of the back of his head- thinking just how much he hair has grown as the ends are beginning to flip out.

“hairs getting long..” you say it offhandedly, a pure observation of your thoughts but his body tenses in your hands.

“i can get ‘t cut” his voice is timid, insecurity heavy in his tone which only confuses you more.

“i like it” your fingers ruffle the curly strands, your compliment brushed off as he scoffs, “what?” he only shakes his head before dropping it heavily, finding his lap to be more interesting as you scoot more to his side; hoping to get a clue on his change of mood by his facial expression but all you can see is more hair that had fallen into his face at his new position. you reach out, tucking it behind his ear, “what is it?”

he shrugs, a flush high on his cheeks in embarrassment as he purses his lips, opening his mouth before shutting it again; seemingly stuck in some internal battle of lying or telling you just what was on his mind. you wait patiently, hand rubbing soothingly over his back as you scoot closer to him and pressing a reassuring kiss to his arm. leaning away, you catch a glimpse of the soft smile he attempts to bite back before it’s gone and he is back to chewing on his lips.

you don’t bother pushing anymore, prepared for him to get up and finish getting ready for bed but then he takes a deep breath, “merle..” he shakes his head again, “he used ta make fun of me- would say i looked.. gay”

it’s takes you a second to think of a response, knowing that if you took too long, he’d read too much into it and shy away again at opening himself up to you, “hm.. you like it long?” instead of focusing on the negative- you decide to redirect, hoping he’d voice his honest opinion on the matter but all you get is another shrug, “well i think you look very sexy with long hair”

he finally looks to you, fully expecting you to be making a joke of him but you only smile softly with a hint of mischief, “stop”

“i do!” you defend yourself with a soft laugh as he dismisses your flirting. you lean closer to his face, hand going back into his locks to playfully tug at it, “can get a nice.. good.. grip when i want too, especially when you-“

“tha’s ‘nough” his arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into him as you giggle into his chest.

“i wasn’t finished!” you squeal as he lifts your body into his arms, tossing you lightly back onto the bed before climbing over you; his heavy warm body pressing yours further into the mattress. his hair drapes like a curtain over both your faces and you reach up, twirling a piece along your finger, “i mean it. i like it long. short too.. whatever you want, i’ll still love you” the sentiment is sweet and daryl softens at it, “it might take time to get used too but if you wanted to shave your head-“

“alrigh’” he rolls his eyes, shoving his face into your neck and biting playfully at your collarbone; the tickling of his scruffy chin against your soft skin, sending you into a fit of giggles.

he smiles at the sound before pressing kisses along the area, gratitude filling him to his core at being so lucky to be with someone like you.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader fic #norman reedus #the walking dead #twd x reader #daryldixon #fluff #rite4fun

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little-diable · 1 year

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Run Little Dove - Negan (smut)

By now y'all know how much I love fics where people are reunited, so I thought I'd write a somewhat fluffy smutty Negan fic for once. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is being chased through the forest, taken hostage for stealing from a group of men, who thought that they'd bring her back to the man she had crushed on as a teenager?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, age gap, father's best friend Negan, some angst in the beginning, but mainly smut and fluff

Pairing: Negan x fem!reader (2.8k words)

She was running, feet carrying her through the forest as she kept on looking back. The sound of the roaring trucks echoed through the air, ringing in her ears as she tried to up her speed. Her heart was pounding, not used to running this fast for longer than a few seconds, palms and forehead sweaty. Heavy breaths spluttered from her lips, begging for a miracle, anything that would help her make it out of the forest before those that were chasing her could get their hands on her.

Panic flushed through her veins, guiding (y/n) as she tried to not stumble over her feet, over the branches littering the forest ground. Her eyes were focused ahead, spotting a clearing, hopeful about stumbling upon a field or a high meadow she could hide in. But before (y/n) could move any closer she was cut off by two trucks coming at her from both sides, forcing her to a sudden halt.

She tumbled to the ground, body collapsing with her hands stretched out to catch herself. Fear filled her system, forcing tears to well up in her eyes as a man with a moustache stepped out of one of the trucks, smirking at her. The man moved closer, forcing (y/n) to stay on the ground as the other men directed their guns on her.

“Aw, why all that running, little dove?” He grasped her arm, forcing (y/n) to her feet, not paying her protests any mind. She stomped her feet into the ground, trying to stop the man from pulling her towards the truck, but all he did was tighten his grip on her, breath clashing against her ear, “You shouldn’t have stolen from us, maybe then I would have let you go.”

Her body was tossed into one of the trucks, head colliding with the metal flooring, forcing another gasp to leave her. (Y/n)‘s tears kept dripping, rolling down her cheeks like a river cascading along rocks, forcing its trail to stick to her skin. She tried to listen to the sounds echoing through the air, hoping to find anything she could use to figure out where they were taking her, but she couldn’t pick up on anything, too tired to stop herself from giving into the darkness coming upon her.

……

“And we’ve got another present for you, boss.” She woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open, taking in her surroundings. It took (y/n) a moment to realise that she was still in the back of the truck, forcing a groan out of her as her body focused on the pain she was plagued by. Slowly she tried to sit up, struggling to do so as she watched a shadow approach.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” The man with the moustache spoke to her as he opened the door, hand grasping her arm once again to pull her out of the truck. Her body clashed to the ground, groaning once again. She kept her eyes closed, not willing to take in her new surroundings just yet, clinging to the darkness that offered a false sense of safety.

“Who is that?” A gruff voice broke the silence, a voice that left her heart skipping a few beats. It couldn’t be - no, it couldn’t. And yet the voice sounded too familiar, making her body relax before her mind could catch up with it.

“She stole from us on our run, took us a while to catch up with her, she’s a feisty one.” Laughter echoed through the air, but all (y/n) could focus on were her racing thoughts, trying to piece the pieces together. Slowly she rose her head, eyes focusing on the pair of boots that moved closer. Slowly she shifted her weight, cowering in front of the person that was now towering over her. (Y/n) didn’t want to look up, eyes squeezed shut, scared to cling onto the small thread of hope that would be snapped once she met a pair of unfamiliar eyes instead of his.

“Don’t be scared, doll. Look at me.” She felt something being pushed against her chin, tilting her face up. “Well, fuck me. (Y/n)?”

Her eyes shot open, focusing on the all too familiar face. A sob clawed through her, body trembling as she watched him crouch down, wide eyes wandering over her face. It took him a second to snap into motion, pulling her into his chest, face buried in the crook of his neck.

“Are you hurt?” She only shook her head, not seeing the strange looks the other men shot one another, wondering why Negan was cuddling the girl they had been chasing, hoping that he’d allow them to use her for their insatiable hunger, the pleasure filling their bodies.

“You should be happy she isn’t hurt, otherwise I’d kill you fuckers right here, right now.” Negan spoke his words with anger dripping from them, slowly rising to his feet with (y/n) still clinging to him. He didn’t want to let go of her, keeping the girl close as he moved her towards his quarters, her, the girl that had been his best friend’s daughter, the one he had watched grow up, guiding her through highs and lows before the world had ended.

……

“Atta girl, deep breaths.” His voice wrapped itself around her, keeping her close like a blanket tossed over her shoulders, protecting her from the cold nibbling on her fingers. Negan had cupped her cheek, thumb wiping away the tears that kept on falling, hating to see her like this, hurt, confused, and exhausted. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you again, doll. Where’s your dad?”

(Y/n) could only shake her head, choking on another sob as she thought back to the day her father had been killed by another group, forced to the ground with guns directed at him, bullets piercing through his flesh. With her eyes focused on her father’s dead frame, (y/n) had started running, managing to disappear before they could force her to come with them.

“I’m sorry, baby. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Negan sat down next to her, once again pulling her back into his chest. Their moments together felt like a déjà-vu, so familiar, and yet so different to all these years ago.

She couldn’t deny that she had always found herself intrigued by Negan, the handsome friend who’d come visit every week, sometimes alone, sometimes with Lucille hot on his heels, taking care of the father–daughter duo. Life had been simple back then, allowing (y/n)’s thoughts to wander once she had reached a certain age, wanting to be touched by him, wanting to feel his hands on her body. Mere dreams she had clung to, nothing more than harmless thoughts she had never shared with anybody.

“Lucille? Is she here?” It was just a whisper, a whisper breaking Negan out of his racing thoughts. Now it was his turn to shake his head, tightening his grip on her body, trying to pull her even closer as if he was scared that he was stuck in a dream, as if he was scared that she’d be ripped from his grasp any moment now.

“It’s just the two of us now, doll. But you’re safe here, I promise.”

……

Back when she had been a teenager (y/n) had found herself wondering how it must feel like to be touched by Negan, the big hands exploring her body, paying attention to the spots boys her age wouldn’t even think of looking at. Back then she had been crushing on her father’s best friend, a crush that hadn’t ever let go of her mind and heart, still simmering deep inside of her.

It had been days since Negan had taken her in, giving her enough time to adjust to her new surroundings, to the people that looked at her with grim expressions, the men she tried to hide from, not daring to cross paths with those that had chased her through the forest. Negan gave her enough freedom to wander around, and yet he always called her back for dinner, sharing stories from their old lives, relishing in shared memories, just like today.

“Your dad was so mad, I had to hold him back from smashing the boy’s head in.” Negan’s throaty laughter echoed through his chambers, remembering (y/n)’s first heartbreak. Her eyes didn’t dare wander from his features, the handsome face she had dreamt of even all those weeks and months ago.

“I remember that night, thank you for taking care of us, even though it certainly didn’t help my crush on you.” The words left her without thinking twice, convinced that the older man had always been aware of her feelings, of her crush – an all too obvious state she had been stuck in for years. But the wide eyes meeting hers told another story, wondering if (y/n) was just fucking with him.

“Your crush? On me?” No longer was Negan laughing, not daring to move as he watched her fumble with her fingers, eyes not daring to meet his again. (Y/n) had to clear her throat, straightening her posture to ponder over her words.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t picked up on it, I always have been crushing on you. I was so convinced you knew all about it.” The man reached for her chin, tilting her head up to force (y/n) to look at him. For a few seconds neither Negan nor (y/n) dared to break the silence, eyes wandering over one another's features.

“I didn’t know, but fuck, I’m certainly happy to hear that. I’d lie if I told you I didn’t think of you every now and then, but you were my best friend’s daughter, I would have never betrayed him like that.” Negan’s thumb had started moving as he spoke up, running over her lower lip, eyes following its trail. Her heart was racing in her chest, pounding against her ribs, wondering if, perhaps even praying that he’d close the gap between them. It felt like a dream, like a simulation she was stuck in, the things she had been dreaming about as a young adult could finally become real, tides changing, waves roaring, winds blowing – nature’s finest spectacle.

“But now, as he’s no longer around,” the rest of the sentence was left unspoken as (y/n)’s body pushed her towards him, closing the short distance between them. Negan’s lips immediately started working against hers, kissing her with a heavy groan leaving the man. His hands found her middle, pulling her into his lap, forcing (y/n) even closer. The kiss had something rushed to it, as if the two were scared to be ripped apart any moment now, but nobody would dare to go against Negan, against the man wandering through the darkest shadows, the man following death’s call. “Fuck, doll, been thinking about your pretty body way too many times.”

“Negan, please.” His chuckles left her heart jumping, skipping over beats. Negan’s hands wandered up and down her sides, toying with the fabric of her shirt, fingertips teasing her skin, not giving in just yet.

“Use your words, baby. What do you want?” Her whine clawed through her, eyes struggling to stay open as his hands disappeared beneath the fabric of her shirt, moving closer to her bra, running along the outlines of it. She needed a few seconds to speak up, unable to put her thoughts into words he could follow, guided by her need for him.

“Touch me, with your fingers, your mouth, I don’t care, just please.” With the clicking of his tongue, Negan pushed her to her feet, guiding her to his bed with a smirk glued to his lips. They were pulled closer once again, sharing another kiss as his skilled fingers worked on her trousers, undoing the buttons before he pushed her away. Her shirt was pulled over her head, fabric tossed to the ground, with her bra following moments later.

(Y/n) was pushed to the mattress of his bed with only her damp panties on, staring up at the man that towered over her like the devil, claiming her sinning soul to add it to his ever growing collection. Negan’s hungry eyes wandered over her frame, teeth buried in his lower lip, marvelling at her.

“Fuck, I should take a picture of you, should take one with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, fuck, we’ll have our fun.” Their eyes broke contact as he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his tattoos to her eyes. (Y/n) could remember all those times he had stayed over, using their pool in the warm summer days to cool off, allowing her to stare at his body. His trousers were placed next to hers, body moving up the mattress to join her.

Negan’s beard scratched her skin as he kissed his way down her throat to her chest, sucking on her hardening nipples, hands kneading her breasts. Her moans guided him, urging him to keep on touching her. Their middles met every now and then, clothed cock rubbing against her clothed cunt, coaxing heavy moans out of the two. It was a sinful sight, and yet so awfully raw, as if they had been made for one another, made to fit.

“Negan, fuck me, please, I need you.” Her cries broke the man out of his trance, eyes snapping up to meet her glassy ones, filled with tears of desperation. His fingers pulled her panties down her legs, making her shudder as the cold air clashed against her dripping cunt, folds covered in arousal. Negan’s calloused fingers circled her clit, feeling the bundle of nerves pulse against his skin, ready for him, for his cock.

“I’ll take my time with you later, but for now I need to fuck you.” His growls left her gasping for air, eyes fluttering close, focusing on his touches, on the rustling of fabrics, on the heavy breaths spluttering from his lips. Negan freed his cock, pumping it a few times before he brushed the tip through her folds, coating himself with her arousal.

The second he pushed into her both needed a moment to adjust, eyes rolling back into their heads, finding comfort in the darkness calling for them. With her fingernails clawed into his shoulders like a dying woman clinging onto the last seconds of her life, (y/n) murmured his name, allowing him to start moving, to fuck her into the mattress. (Y/n) couldn’t help but wonder what her younger self would think of this, of the way her dreams were finally becoming reality – even though the world had died months and months ago.

“Such a tight cunt, fuck, I should have done this much sooner.” His words were murmured against her lips, interrupted by a kiss every now and then. Their bodies met with ferocious thrust, set on proving to (y/n) that they were doing the right things, that giving into their longing is what fate had planned for them. Her nails left scratches on his skin, marking the man up for whoever dared to move close to him, claiming him without speaking another word.

His name left her like a mantra, a prayer spoken by those in need of guidance. Negan was right there for her, not daring to part as he pushed her further into the outstretched arms of her orgasm. She choked on his name, back arched, toes curled, feeling the sensation crawling up her limbs. It had been too long since she had felt something this intense, (y/n) couldn’t even remember the last time she had been fucked like this.

Negan’s fingers kept circling her clit, feeling her walls flutter around his cock, indicating her arising high. He stared down on her with a smirk glued to his lips, a proud, satisfied smirk. She came with a moan clawing through her, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, allowing Negan to fuck her through her high. He needed a few more moments before he could give in, pulling out of her to release himself on (y/n)’s stomach, letting go of a string of curses.

Both were panting, staring at one another with wide, dilated pupils before they gave into the chuckles wanting to bubble out of them. Their lips met for another kiss before Negan reached for a few paper towels, cleaning her up. She was pulled into his chest, listening to his racing heart with her ear pressed against his chest and her arm wrapped around his waist.

“I once promised your dad that I’ll take care of you, if something happens to him, and I intend to keep that promise, even though he’d kill me for touching you.”

#Negan smut #Negan #Negan imagine #the walking dead

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holylulusworld · 1 month

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Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

Like in 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, and 2023, I will post a kinky, fluffy, angsty or scary one-shot from October 1st till October 31st, 2024.

Please consider none of the stories are available until the set release date. Titles may change (all titles are working titles until the release date.). The release date may change at any time.

ANGST/SMUT/FLUFF

October 1st: Forbidden Lust (3) sequel to Forbidden Lust & Forbidden Lust (2)

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Homewrecker kink

October 2nd: How deep is your love? sequel to Deepest love

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Friends to lovers

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 3rd: Extreme tight places sequel to Cramped & Tight places & Very tight places

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader

Kink: Claustrophilia

October 4th: Colorful leaves sequel to Falling leaves

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Trope: Sunny vs grumpy

October 5th: Your Soldier sequel to Serve your Soldier

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader

Kink: Collars

October 6th: Snuggle and cuddle sequel to Snuggle time

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Plussized!Reader

Trope: Huddling for warmth

October 7th: The peach (2) sequel to The Peach

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Girlfriend!Reader

Kink: Spanking

October 8th: A new life sequel to One autumn night

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Trope: Nesting (a/b/o)

October 9th My lawn, my rules sequel to Get off my lawn

Pairing: Alpha (Teacher) Bucky Barnes x Omega (Teacher) Reader

Kink: Mating

October 10th: My car again? sequel to Not in my car

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Cuddling & Snuggling

Requested by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 11th: Breathlessness sequel to Breathless & Take my breath away

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Boss kink

October 12th: Pour me some love

Pairing: Biker!Dean Winchester x Plussized!Reader

Trope: Love at first sight

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 13th: Bound tight

Pairing: Gus March-Philipps x fem!Reader x Anders Lassen

Kink: Ropes

October 14th: Bucky & Ducky

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Side-pairing: Bucky x Ducky the duck

Trope: Best buddies

Idea by: @buckys-wintersoldier

October 15th: Howl like a wolf

Pairing: Alpha!Anders Lassen x Omega!Reader

Kink: Chasing kink

October 16th: Torn in two

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Trope: Unrequited Love

October 17th: Up his sleeve

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Hand kink

Idea by: @buckys-wintersoldier

October 18th: Parallel Worlds

Pairing: Negan Smith (TWD) x fem!Reader x John Winchester (SPN)

Trope: Daddy kink

October 19th: Their bride sequel to Best bridesmaid ever

Pairing: fem!Reader x Nick Fowler, Ari Levinson, Lloyd Hansen, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Kink: Roleplay

October 20th: TBA

Pairing: TBA

Trope: TBA

October 21st: Unwanted mate (2) Bucky's version sequel to Unwanted Mate (Bucky's version)

Pairing: Alpha!Stucky x Omega!Reader

Kink: a/b/o

October 22nd: The dishwasher

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: TBA

October 23rd: The cabin in the woods (2) sequel to The cabin in the woods

Pairing: Winter Soldier x fem!Reader

Kink: Choking

October 24th: Death or date?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader

Trope: Enemies to ?

October 25th: My neighbor sequel to My annoying sexy neighbor

Pairing: Neighbor!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Semi-public sex

October 26th: Lunchtime delight

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Girlfriend!Reader

Trope/Kink: Edging

Idea: by @elle14-blog1

October 27th: Naughty School Adventures (2) sequel to Naughty School Adventures (1)

Pairing: Janitor!Sam Winchester x Teacher!Reader x Gymteacher!Dean Winchester

Kink: Threesome

Idea by: @moosekateer13

October 28th: Praise me sequel to Praise me like you should

Pairing: Sam Wilson x fem!Reader

Trope: Praise kink

Idea by: anon

October 29th: Ashtray (2)

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Kink: angry sex

October 30th: Howling sequel to Pipsqueak & Grumpy

Pairing: Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Chubby(Short)!Reader

Trope: TBA

Halloween Specials: ANGST/SMUT/HORROR

October 31st: Dreams of sharp teeth (2) sequel to Dreams of sharp teeth

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Werewolf!August Walker

Kink: Monster AU

October 31st: Spin the bottle

Pairing: Fratboy!Bucky Barnes x Stepsister!Reader x Fratboy!Steve Rogers

Kink: Stepcest

Find all other Bingos and Special Events here: Special Events

#kinktober 2024 #flufftober 2024 #kinktober vs flufftober 2024 #dean winchester #bucky barnes #wolverine #sam winchester #lee bodecker #anders lassen #gus march phillips #smut

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tupperwaretub · 6 months

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Rick Grimes x M!reader

(A/n): this is inspired by the scene from towl above, I'm not doing well creatively so no cute title sorry.

Summary: after so long apart you and your boyfriend rick can finally unwind together, what neither of you fully realise is how badly the CRM has broken Rick. Smut into Fluff.

Warnings: sensual smut, panic attacks, mentions of trauma + death. Then fluffy comfort. (Because Lord knows Rick Grimes needs it).

The pair of you sigh and moan, Rick's cock filling your ass for the first time in years as you ride him and he thrusts upward into you desperate for your touch. He kisses you and lets out little moans laced with desperation.

You start to ride him faster and you grind on each other more passionately, getting closer to your release as you feel Rick cock twitch inside you.

Suddenly you feel Rick's breathing falter, it becomes rapid and you pull away, lifting yourself off his cock to look into his eyes. "Hey..." You mutter calmly as you hold his hand to your chest as an act of comfort. "You're okay...", you kiss his forehead and he leans into it as his breathing slows again and you lay next to each other, cocks softening.

You give Rick a few moments to gather himself before asking, "what did they do to you?..." Your hands cup his cheeks and you look into his gaze lovingly. "Th-they-" He manages to choke out but struggles due to a wave of emotions, you move your hand to squeeze his in a gesture of comfort and he takes a deep breath before managing to speak, "they took carl... Again", his voice broke and he sounded truly shattered and a shell of the man you knew eight years ago. You don't even remember him being this broken when Negan had him acting like a dog.

"What do you mean, love?", you calmly invite him to give you more information but kiss his hand to ensure he knows he doesn't need to push himself. Obviously knowing Rick, he pushes himself. "I had dreams about him, it kept me... Together. Eventually he- he just-", Rick's voice starts to crack again and you stroke his hair letting him take his time. "He just disappeared." He finally finishes.

That's all you needed to hear, you roll onto your back and hold him close to your chest knowing he needs the comfort of your embrace. You don't say anything, you just hold him tight as he breaks down into your chest. As heart breaking as this is you can't help but feel, is this one step closer to Rick healing?

#x male reader #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes smut #twd rick #rick grimes #the ones who live #twd towl #towl #he's everything to me

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

Note

Could I possibly request a little Negan x hispanic!Reader? Reader has 3 kids from before the apocalypse and the toddler seems not to be scared of Negan?

Wandering Babies

Negan x plus size reader

When the ruthless leader of the Saviours bumps into a lost toddler in his city, his life gets changed forever, especially when his protective mother shows up.

Warnings: Negan being Negan, swearing, implied future relationship, fluff

WC: 1.3k

A/N: Hi nonnie! I don't usually write y/ns with a specific race since I like to remain as open as I can with them but I did give her kids traditionally Spanish names so I hope that was ok!

Minors DNI

“Well well well, what the fuck do we have here?” The sun shone brightly behind the giant of a man, casting his face in shadow. To any normal person, it would have scared the absolute shit out of them, especially with the looming threat of Lucille across his shoulders, but the toddler in front of him was smiling the whole time.

His big brown eyes focused on the man in front of him, looking at him in a way that only babies could. Kneeling down, Negan came face to face with the child. “The fuck do you want?” He said like he was addressing someone below him but the two year old just burst out into giggles, obviously finding this whole thing hilarious.

“I think that’s the new-comer’s kid.” Simon chose that moment to speak up and caused Negan to roll his eyes.

“Yeah I fuckin figured that.” He growled, not taking his eyes off the kid who was now inching closer. He wasn’t quite steady on his feet and wobbled dangerously with each step he took. Unconsciously, Negan’s free hand shot out and held the surprisingly plump belly of the child, keeping him upright. Tiny hands grabbed at his wrist but didn’t attempt to push him away. Instead he touched Negan's arm, pulling at the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“I’m just wondering how the fuck someone could lose a goddamn kid.” The toddler continued to fiddle with the dark fabric, Negan only stopping him when he tried to put it in his mouth.

Simon shrugged behind his boss. “I mean she’s got three of em and she’s working in the kitchens and the infirmary.” That shocked the older man. Working two jobs was unheard of in the Sanctuary, one job could provide more than enough for someone and their family.

The kid suddenly released his wrist and raised his arms over his head, opening and closing his chubby hands in a clear sign. Releasing a deep sigh, Negan relented. He shoved Lucille into the awaiting arms of his second in command and picked up the child with an ease of someone who has done it many times before. His little head tucked into the crook of his neck, his fluffy brown hair tickling Negan’s nose.

“How about we go find your mother huh.” The toddler nodded. Just as Negan took a step forward, already planning a very angry speech to the boy’s mom, a woman ripped out of the building and his breath caught in his throat.

Her eyes were wide with panic but that wasn’t what caught his attention. She was gorgeous, all thick curves and fat like a Greek goddess. She blazed with anxiety and rage, poised for a fight against anyone that might have taken her child. “Tomas!” The child’s head shot back, clipping Negan’s chin as he did.

“Mama!” She spun and locked eyes with the big bad leader of the Saviors and shamefully, he felt his knees buckle. Tomas squirmed in his hold, eager to reach for his mother but Negan was frozen in place. Two other children trailed behind her like ducklings, a pair of twin girls that looked to be 8 or 9 years old.

As she drew closer, he could see the details of her face, the scars and blemishes but more importantly, the huge dark circles that marred her otherwise perfect visage. She stopped a yard away from him, quickly shoving her girls behind her back. “Thank you for finding Tomas, he has a bad habit of wandering off when I’m not looking.” Her voice was steady, he supposed from years of practice.

“He is a very sweet fucking kid.” One of the girls gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth in a comical expression of shock.

“He said a bad word, mama.” The other whispered just loud enough for Negan to hear.

“You shouldn’t let your fucking kids run around without supervision, that’s how they get killed.” Her murderous glare set itself on Simon as she took another step forward. Negan could see what she was planning to do, grab Tomas and then go after the tall man.

But before she could make her move, Negan did. “How about you go and fuck off, I need to have a fucking conversation with this lovely woman and you are really killing the mood with your fuck ugly face.” There was a brief moment of tense silence before Simon thrust Lucille into his free arm and turned with a huff to walk away, muttering under his breath.

The woman breathed a sigh of relief, her walls crumbling slightly but they were quickly built back up. “Could I please have my son now?” Tomas was lifted from his arms but Negan realised he missed the weight of the toddler against his chest. He suddenly felt a hell of a lot colder than he did before.

The boy gave out a great big sigh as he settled into his mother’s bust, utterly exhausted from his escape attempt. Two little heads poked out from behind her legs, studying the man that had been holding their brother. “Well who are these two pretty girls?” Shyly, they clung to their mom’s jeans, not answering him.

“Isabella and Lucia.” She responded for them.

“Two fucking gorgeous names for two gorgeous girls.” They smiled bashfully but didn’t try to hide again, he took that as a win. “And which one of you are going to tell me your mama’s name? I bet her name is just as beautiful as her.” He raised his head to look at said woman, expecting her to be as flattered as her daughters but instead he was met with a glare even dirtier than the one she gave Simon.

“Oh now that is a dirty damn look! And I would be lying if I said it didn’t turn me the fuck on.” Her jaw ticked with annoyance but that only made his smile grow wider across his stubbled cheeks. He gave an exaggerated shiver which made the girls giggle. “Wowie your mother is goddamn scary.”

“Yeah! Once she kicked Derek’s dad in his private place because he said something mean to her.” Isabella finally spoke up, her little voice gaining confidence. Lucia nodded along with her sister in agreement, still too shy to say anything yet.

“Well Derek’s dad deserved it for being such an asshole to your lovely mother. Now how about we go have some fucking dinner and keep disguising how amazing she is.” Those seemed to be the magic words because the twins emerged fully from behind said woman’s legs and ran at him. With absolutely no hesitation, Negan dropped Lucille beside him, kicking the bat away so neither of the girls would accidentally hurt themselves.

Just like their brother, they each took hold of one of his jacket sleeves and yanked. “Can we have spaghetti?” “Do you have ice cream?” “Mama, can we go with him?” “Mama please!” “Mama!” They screamed in quick succession, not giving either adult any time to answer before asking their next question. Negan gave her a victorious look.

He could tell she wanted to say no but her girls had finally opened up to someone new for the first time since the world ended and, even though she loved them, she could use a break from their clingy behaviour. “Fine but no complaining about an early bedtime tonight. Remember mama has to work early tomorrow.” They exploded into excited shouts and began tugging the older man forward, eager to talk to him.

Negan let them pull him along but he looked back at the woman that had so entirely captured his attention, throwing her a wink. “We’ll stay up as late as you want and don’t worry about your job mama, I’ve got that all covered. You just need to sit back and relax tonight and let me do all the work.”

Her eyes widened and then darkened with a barely hidden lust at the double entendre and he just chuckled deep in his chest. He’d gotten her and maybe, just maybe, a new chance at life with this little family, all because Tomas liked to wander.

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godsandmonsters505 · 2 years

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MASTERLIST

All fics are written with fem!reader. I don't use Y/N (though there may be very minimal use in some of my older fics).

Fics marked * contain smut and are only suitable for 18+ readers.

Fandoms:

The Walking Dead

Narcos

Arctic Monkeys

The Last Of Us (coming soon!)

Click here to see who I take requests for!

The Walking Dead

Negan Smith

Beg Me * - you pay Negan a visit in his cell.

Sweet Taste For Men Who Are Older * - Negan clocks onto the fact that you have a 'thing' for older men.

Roll Like Thunder* - dad's best friend (AU)

Rick Grimes

The Other Woman * - You console Rick as his marriage falls apart.

Narcos

Javier Peña

The Blackest Day * - goodbye sex with Javi (angst!!!)

Arctic Monkeys

(no longer writing for)

Alex Turner

Baby I'm Yours * - fluffy morning sex.

Does This Feeling Flow Both Ways? * - friends to lovers type vibe.

No 1 Party Anthem * - Alex has sex with a stripper!Reader.

#updated masterlist #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #the last of us #narcos #javier peña smut #pedro pascal #joel miller #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #negan smith smut #negan smith x reader #javier peña x female reader #x fem reader

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twigg96 · 11 months

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The Walking Dead Masterlist:

Daryl

You’re Kind of a MILF Huh?

I Should Have Been There

Can I Trust You Dad?

Spring Chicken

Thank You For The Music

In the Nick of Time

Princess

Beau as a Middle Child HC

Strangers Like Me

Midnight Moonshine

Into the Darkness I Become Stronger

Never Take Your Eyes Off Me

Even if Death Does Us Part

Leather and Lace

Food Poisoning

Two Can Play This Game

Where’d Ya Hear That At?!

Right Here With You

Now Blow

Fluffy Alphabet

The Day We Lost You

Negan

Ashes

#masterpost #masterlist #the walking dead #twd #my fanfiction #fanwriting #fandom shit #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon #negan smith #will update

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ghostboneswrites2 · 7 months

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Daryl Prompts ✎

These are prompts I've been sitting on for a while and never used // have yet to use. While I might still use them in the future, feel free to use them yourself!!

"Wild child" - Reader//OC is sort of wild. Hair always a fluffy mess of waves/curls, nails always caked with dirt, cusses like a sailor, absolutely feral when provoked or pissed off. Daryl fucking loves it, though she's a little bit of an outcast from everyone else.

"You wanna be him so bad." - Personal fav tbh. Reader/OC is giving Dwight a harsh earful. He wants to be Daryl so bad. His vest, his bike, his bow. Is it because Daryl had the courage to never kneel to Negan and Dwight was too much of a coward?

"Hair's normal." - Daryl comforting Reader/OC about her body hair since the apocalypse has made shaving quite a rare luxury.

Will add more as I go! This post will be linked in the Masterlist <3

#writing prompts #dialogue prompts #story prompts #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #masterposts

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loganlostitall · 1 year

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Talking to the Moon

Rating: 13+

Word count: Just under 3.5k

Characters: Judith Grimes, Negan Smith (NOT A SHIP!!!!!!); mentions of Carl, Rick, Michonne, Carol, Enid, and R.J.

Setting: Alexandria, post 6 year jump

Content Warnings: sibling grief, talks of death, a little bit of suicidal ideation in here too I think, vulgarity, light talk of typical TWD violence, just lots of sad. Sorry. Fluffy ending tho!

Summary: Judith is getting older, and it’s not fair that Carl isn’t.

Author’s Note: Okaaayy so I really did not want the first piece I published on here to be an angsty vent but life kinda decided to bodyslam me (as usual) so anyways have this lol. I spent all day yesterday writing this in between crying fits and I’m only finishing it now.. oopsie whoopsies. A little context I guess, my older brother was shot and killed 5 years ago, and in 5 years I will be older than he got to be. That’s heavily implemented in here, as well as just the majority of Judith’s dialogue being my own thoughts/feelings. Sometimes it just hits you again, man. My therapist likes me to write it out 🤷🏻 I’m workin on other stuff that isn’t like this so pls bear w me y’all 😭🙏🏽

Beta’d by @murdadixon as alwayysss

Midnight marked her 10th birthday.

She liked to keep track of time in intervals of five. R.J. was currently an interval of 5. He died at an interval of five. She was reaching an interval of 5 herself, right now. In a demi-decade, she would encounter the age he’d never passed; and in a decade, she would be 5 years older than he’d ever be. Five felt significant, and she did not—she simply felt like her brother’s stand-in.

Judith sat on the edge of the wooden boardwalk with her legs drawn up to her chest and both arms wrapped around her knees, chin rested atop them, and stared blankly at the water source before her. Tried to mimic its stillness. But she disrupted it, instead, because the tears swimming in her brown eyes splattered down and sent ripples coursing across the surface, growing larger the further they fanned out and expanded.

That was, similarly, how missing Carl felt. At the start, it was a heavy impact, it obliterated the calmness, and as the years blazed past, it got further away and yet simultaneously… bigger. How could something shrink and grow? How could she grow, every day; and yet consistently feel as if she were being pushed back, made smaller? Small enough to be back in his arms again, like before, like that final night she knew him.

She would appreciate his last words this time. She would wrangle her brain up into her juvenile hands and pin it down to carve them over the top of her damn hippocampus to keep them there; even if it did mean her blood got everywhere, even if it meant she lost all the rest of her cognitive function. Truthfully, she did not want to function this way. Being medically brain dead would be a graciousness. Or maybe just being bit.

Feeling the fever Carl did would unite them in a way.

The panels beside her creaked recognizably, a familiar gait and stride, and Judith’s fingers twitched to move instinctively for a gun she knew she wouldn’t brandish. The scuffed tips of two large black boots entered her peripheral vision but she did not turn her gaze.

“Hey there, Miss Grimes.”

Negan sat in a loose mirror of Judith’s position—he struggled with holding his legs in exactly the same manner and had to improvise considerably. He got himself comfortable with his legs toward his chest but with a short gap between his thighs, toes pointing outward instead of inward as Judith’s were, and both forearms crossed above his knees to lie his head upon.

“Don’t really like water, kid, but I’m diving in there after ya if you jump, so please don’t, alright? For me?”

The preteen wiped her right cheek against her bicep and tilted her head to rest the left cheek against the adjacent knee and look at her guest. Her eyes weren’t really seeing him, but she was trying to acknowledge the fact that he’d joined her. “How’d you get out?”

He ignored that she ignored his question and instead plastered on the usual grin, even if the edges were heavy and worn down, and lifted a finger to his smile.

Shhhh, it’s a secret. It went without saying.

“I should shoot you. I brought my gun,” she pestered, poking a bear with a stick. Only, this bear was a puppy. And the humor behind the words didn’t reach her tone.

He decided not to address her monotony.

“Mmhmm. Right.”

“I would.”

“I know,” he grinned again, more genuinely, and his side administered a dull throb almost out of nostalgia. She had, in fact, shot him. He wouldn’t challenge that.

There were only a few moments that went without speech. Judith found herself gazing ahead again, tapping her right cowgirl boot without tempo because it was simply to alleviate the odd, incessant gnawing in her gut that screamed to bounce her leg, or else.

“Why don’t I get to have a word?” she blurted out, albeit quietly, almost unaware that Negan could not read her mind and was clueless to what she really meant. The man hummed questioningly as if to say ‘continue,’ and Judith finished verbalizing the thought. “I mean… mom’s a widow, and you’re a widower. Enid is an orphan. Aunt Carol is a v- vi..lo..mah, she lost her daughter Sophia.” The young girl struggled on the pronunciation momentarily before returning to the point. “But what am I? Just… a kid who lost a brother? Don’t I deserve a word? Doesn’t Carl? I think he deserves more than one. I would give him them all.”

In truth, Negan would not have heard the second half of her statement had they not been knee-to-knee. Even from only having a view of the profile of her face, he could tell that she was fighting back the need to cry. The intensity with which she swallowed, the twitch of the corners of her frown, her small nostrils flaring. She was probably also avoiding allowing her voice to crack.

Kids don’t ever deserve to feel this way. Adults can hardly even cope with loss. He’d seen it sometimes before, the occasional teen with swollen eyes and dark circles wordlessly offering him a slip with a small, rectangular obituary card stapled to the top left corner to excuse a few days of absence after the passing of a parent, guardian, or otherwise crucial family member. And similar to now, he truly tried his best… when it came to situations like that. It was hard—shit, it still is hard, but after eventually grasping that what most of them wanted was to just be heard (and not to be told that a kick-ass exercise routine could distract a weak mind, or about how being a pussy didn’t get you pussy), he’d take his attendance and approach again with a juniors mitt and baseball to throw at the wall and catch while they cried, screamed, shook, even dissociated some of them. He’d never been a great man, or honestly even a kind teacher; Savior Negan essentially just carried on acting as he had before Lucille’s confrontation, diagnosis, and passing; but the kids who saw through him loved him. When the rest loathed to hear ‘Mr. Smith,’ though no one was to blame for that but himself. To the damaged kids, the whole façade of coolness he tried to upkeep around his classes was utter horseshit because they found him badass when he let them bitch about things without taking to the nearest phone as a mandatory reporter.

Judith was, arguably, the most mature ten year old with significant trauma that he’d ever sat with. Children that young hadn’t been his area of work, really, but there were a handful of times one of his high school students had to drag along a little sibling because they’d emancipated after the death of the only responsible parent, were granted custody of the kid, and the younger had a day off. Other stories, heavily similar or drastically different, with the same outcome. Judith was more put together than half of the seniors that had dished their shit out on him. In a strictly militant world and with no empire turning to him for guidance, there was no excuse to be assertive around her age bracket. He would tell her she was strong, that she was an Amazon warrior who could brave anything and then have to explain Wonder Woman comics, but the probability was massive that she could only grasp some variation of control over herself in these heavy moments because life now held a sickening promise that anything could be marred with a streak of blood. That you have to always be ready to mourn.

So fucked up.

His prior internal assessment to remain silent and give her more time to process her feelings into words proved correct when Judith turned her head back in his direction again with more to express to him.

“Dad isn’t here anymore to tell me what Carl was like at my age. Or tell me stories about before everything got bad. And mom wasn’t around for all that stuff. But even if she was, I- I hate always hearing about him from other people. About how they won’t ever get to see him grow up. Why does everyone else get to remember my brother? Why doesn’t anybody care that I gotta know he’s not watching me grow up anymore? I want to remember Carl on my own, but I was too little!” Her delicate voice shattered beneath the weight of her last sentence, and the way her eyebrows were flying into all different angles on her face betrayed that her developing mind didn’t know what to do with the guilt that ignited furiously behind her ribs for seemingly such a selfish notion. It was a vicious fact that Judith almost never understood what she was feeling, not acutely.

But, she trusted Negan. He’d told her things that no one else had cared to let her know. About Abraham. About Glenn. About Sasha, Denise, uncle Daryl. Everyone she loved had been damaged by him in some way, but… they’d all together affected him, too.

Maybe he changed. Or maybe he’d been keeping this Negan safe. Whatever the case, here he was, out of his cell, not even allowing his knee to bump her own.

This man had killed people? He was the kindest one here to her. Especially when it came to stuff like this. Other Alexandrians always dismissed her; she didn’t have any “adult” problems worth sparing their time for. How could the big bad wolf be so tame?

Judith wiped both of her eyes and straightened her left leg out halfway. “If… if Carl hadn’t got bit, what do you think things would be like now?”

And that question certainly beckoned an answer. He had been allowing her to talk as much as she felt necessary tonight, content to simply sit quietly and be an ear for the little girl as she often was for him. His skull would have been split open on one of those prison walls years ago had it not been for his little window and Judith’s spark of rebellious humanity.

Negan responded honestly, as was always the case with her. “I woulda killed every last one of these dickwipes, and brought you and Carl back to the Sanctuary with me. I don’t kill kids. But I don’t think your brother would have been too crazy about that. Nah, with those titanium balls of his, he would have taken me down, torn all of my people apart limb from fuckin’ limb. Yeah…,” he peered down at Judith, who was just watching him with her elbow on her extended knee and her cheek rested on her palm. No signs of distress. He continued on. “Yeah, Prick thought he was a badass, but Carl? Well, he was the real badass. Anybody could’a killed me, my bet was on him. Catch me off guard, I wouldn’t have fought back. I think he would have stocked one of my big ass trucks with everything he needed and taken off with you knowing he won. But he also would have lost everything.”

Now, Judith’s energy had shifted back into that murky cloud it had resembled before. Not entirely, but to a noticeable degree. Negan cursed under his breath.

“Did I scare you talking abou-”

“You think Carl would have raised me all on his own? You really think he would have done that?”

“Oh, I know it,” Negan nodded adamantly, without aggressive urgency, and chipped a piece of plastic from the aglet of his shoelace to chuck into the water. “Carl loved you more than anyone else, I think.”

A brittle, cracked sob drew his attention immediately to the little girl beside him, left hand reaching out to comfort on instinct and then hovering uselessly between them. Judith gave her permission with action instead of words; turning her legs off to the side to be able to roll onto her right hip and notch herself against Negan’s side. She rested her head against his knee and old tears from her cheek seeped through the thin material of his jumper. The previously awkward arm dropped around her own and he settled for hanging his hand at an outward angle away from her body. He’d comfort the kid but any one of the adults here would send Michonne into a goddamned stroke by reporting that he’d made an attempt against her daughter's life by, say, scratching the back of her head. Some asinine bullshit. He wouldn’t risk it, and not because of himself. No, he’s a big boy and can handle his own conflicts. But Judith would get in so much unnecessary trouble.

After taking a minute to gather herself, Judith whispered, “I think I would have liked that better.”

“…What, Carl taking care of ya?” He queried. “Y’know that means you wouldn’t have your mom, or dad, or-”

“Mommies and daddies die before their kids do, or they’re supposed to. Siblings are- they’re supposed to be there the whole time you grow up, and after. You’re supposed to live your life together. And they’re not supposed to die before you mom and dad do.”

“Kid-”

“I want Carl. I’d give up anyone here to get him back.”

It proved remarkably difficult given how much taller he was than her, but Negan managed to make do. He tilted his neck to a sideways angle and rested his head on top of hers whilst fishing through his right pocket.

Judith peeked up at him. “What’re you doing? Are you gonna stab me for making you sad? I’ve still got my-”

“No. Don’t be nosey,” he goaded and even ventured so far as to stick his tongue out and wrinkle his nose. Her head dropped back down to his leg just as quickly as it rose, and Negan’s fingers closed around the surprise.

“Sounds like a candy wrapper…,” she mumbled, still too lost in her own head and the darkness residing.

Two bright blue pouches withdrew from his pocket, and his brown eyes traveled skyward. “Moon’s right above our heads now. Means it’s midnight. I got ya a gift.”

A second, smaller pair of brown irises gazed upon the same sky, and her bottom lip began to give way into trembles again so Negan damn near shoved the quite literally sweet present directly in front of her face.

Judith blinked, eyes focusing on the text in front of them that stood out violently against the package design. “What’s ‘Razzles?’” A small hand accepted the curious, but still exciting new treat, and read the yellow script surrounding the name at the top and bottom. “‘First it’s candy, then it’s gum’? What’s gum?”

Negan had already ripped his open. “You’re about to give me one fat ass kiss, Miss Grimes,” he mused delicately, tossing three colorful disks into his mouth.

His much younger counterpart followed suit, unsure of how to react while the candy crunched before a scintillating smile broke out across her face and two more pieces joined the first. “Where’d you get these?”

“…Okay, don’t laugh,” he deadpanned, and couldn’t help but smirk when Judith narrowed her eyes at him and raised an accusatory eyebrow, still blissfully chewing away. “I’ve gotta secret admirer.” He drew his shoulders up into a loose shrug, threw his hands out in a ‘surprise!’ gesture and dropped his mouth open to an overly enthused smile as the preteen choked on gum.

“WHAT?!? What do you mean?! Tell me, tell me!”

He wouldn’t comment on how much tension finally dissipated from his body and mind at the eager enthusiasm on Judith’s face. This had all been so… glum. “Don’t know, but they slip me goodies through the bars on the window. I asked Father Freaky for some paper to draw, keep my mind busy y’know, and left a note up there requesting a special birthday gift for my best friend. They got dropped in this morning.”

“So, someone here in Alexandria?” she asked, munching her way through her bag of sweets. There was a twinkle in her eyes, finally, so he’d entertain it.

He shrugged idly. “I’d assume so. I’ve got my fingers crossed there’s some freaky deaky coming my way!!”

“Oh, ew. There it is, you ruined this whole thing.” Judith pushed on the side of his knee with both hands to amass enough force to actually shove his leg over.

“Damn. This whole thing, huh?”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, her mouth now so full of chewed up gray gum that speaking proved difficult.

Negan chomped down on a considerable number of candies all at once and reached for Judith’s own pack of Razzles. “Alright, I’ll just take this then, since I fucked up your birthday and all.” A deep, rumbling laugh burst forth from up out of his chest when the ten year old shouted ‘NO!!!’ and a huge wad of gum rolled out of her mouth to plink into the water and bob along to float elsewhere. The pout her bottom lip garnished was impressive and Negan glanced around to the houses in the distance behind them, all of the windows being dark with the quiet insinuation of sleep, to ensure the absence of scrutinizing eyes before taking one of Judith’s hands into his own to unload half the contents of his own candy until her palm was overflowing and a few stray pieces thumped down against the wood. Negan administered the 5 second rule with a quickness and claimed them for himself.

“Thanks,” she chimed faintly, and set about organizing the surplus of thin, cylindrical candies into separate groups of yellow, purple, orange, pink, and blue.

Negan tucked his hand back to his side and pointedly did not give any attention to the prominent droop Judith’s shoulders adopted afterward. He wondered fleetingly if anyone in town ever just… gave the kid a hug. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Really. It’s not like I went out and found these myself.” He pointed one of his own bits of candy at her and added, “Well, you can always just find my paramour and thank them yourself.”

She tilted her head back against his arm to smile up at him. “You just want me to get you deets. You have a crush on this person already, uncle Negan?”

“I’ll love anybody who gives me attention at this point,” he shrugged again, tone steady despite the admission. “Aren’t I hopelessly in love with you, Miss Grimes?”

Her braid swung and the sheriff’s hat far too oversized for her head shifted slightly out of place when she nodded. She tucked the intertwined strands of hair behind her ear after they fell into her face and tickled her nose. “I never hear mom say that she loves me.”

“Ah, she does.” He tapped a finger against his temple once he knew Judith was looking at him and would see it. “She’s got a lot going on up here. But I bet if you went up to Mich and told her first, she’d say it back.”

The young girl nodded again, though this motion was a simple, stiff jerk and only once. Drastically unlike the one he’d earned for himself just moments prior. Judith didn’t believe that Michonne really loved her, but she could easily surmise that he did. “Love you, too,” she murmured and a hefty sigh followed closely behind. Judith tapped the toes of her boots against the boardwalk and followed Negan’s offered instruction to bravely attempt blowing her first bubble. It snapped into a sticky disaster on her lips. The pair fell into a comfortable, innocent, expectationless silence. Negan eventually polished off the last of his candy and crumpled the wrapper up to tuck away into the pocket he retrieved it from, along with Judith’s once she’d finished her own. She was, reasonably, exhausted, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that Judith had drifted off leaning against him.

Next thing he knew, the clouds were graying and little hands were nudging his arm, accompanied by a sleep-slurred voice telling him to wake up. His legs were numb from having remained in the same seated position for what had to be at least a couple hours, but Negan still managed to get himself up into his feet and follow her along as she led the way to his cell. A sheepish smile and tired shrug was all he could muster when her eyes lingered on the lock and bobby-pin discarded haphazardly in the middle of the concrete. He took his place on his cot and watched the child close the bars behind him and slide the lock back into place.

Judith turned from him to walk away, but threw a drowsy smile over her shoulder and waved. And pointless as it was, he spoke after she’d left and her shadow had already passed by his solitary window.

“Happy birthday, kid.”

I think I get attached to characters like Negan who are dangerous and have soft hearts because that’s exactly what my brother was like.

I miss my Carl ❤️‍🩹

This is my first time writing for TWD, and the first work I’m posting in over 2 years, so I hope it’s good for y’all 🥺

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