So… I’m like 20 minutes late for Day 1: Intimacy of the Sanvers Week Challenge… but the muse is a procrastinator just like me. This is my first Sanvers fic so I hope I do them, the fandom, and @queercapwriting justice!
It is 5am dammit and you’re not supposed to have to go into the DEO until 10am and you were hoping to sleep in.
But there’s a rustling next to you. A hunger that cannot wait. A whimper that will not stop without your touch.
So you drag yourself upward; fighting against the tight grasp sleep tries to hold over you. The fog slowly drifting to the edges of your mind. You can do this. Certainly you’ve survived more harrowing times than these. Certainly you’ve had to function with less sleep with an entire envoy of troops at your command no less.
You throw the covers off of you and swing your feet over the bed and they drop clumsily on the cool hardwood. You’re slightly dizzy when you first stand but right yourself almost immediately. A deep breath (it’s 5am! you whine in your head).
You pad softly over to the crib in the corner of the room and look down. Familiar brown eyes look up at you. A gummy smile, chin covered in drool, legs kicking all about. And while you may be a hardass 12 hours a day, in these moments your heart, your voice, your touch will be the softest they have ever been.
“Good morning, love.”
You pick up your son and his arms wrap around your neck and play with the small hairs at the base of your skull. You snuggle into his cheek in return, smelling the baby wash you used on him last night when you got more water on the floor of your bathroom than you did in the tub itself. You turn to bring him to the kitchen where his morning bottle awaits you both in the fridge only to see Maggie already there. You’re not sure when she snuck out of the bed, but there she is. Humming softly to herself and swaying as she waits for the bottle warmer’s telltale *ding* to let you know it’s ready.
You recognize the tune as you get closer. It’s a lullaby her abuelita used to sing to her. All soft and rounded curves that wrap around you. You’re not sure if you or the wriggling mass in your arms likes it more. You’re not sure if you or he light up the most when Maggie turns around with a warm bottle and warmer smile.
Maggie embraces you both. Tight hug for you and a smooth back rub for him. And it is these simple moments now that you hope to hold onto forever. That you pray your mind will wander back to in times of stress. These simple intimacies when it’s just the three of you together… the soft light of 5am, the soothing sounds of Maggie’s lullaby, the warmth of smiles and hugs and bottles in your hands.
Nothing happens here. Literally, 2,859 words of nothing happening. And not even well written nothing. Sorry. If I can, I’m going to finish this tonight, so you can just skip this chapter and wait for the end (or skip both!).
Even by Quinjet, the flight time between North
America and Wakanda was long. The jet was equipped with excellent AI and
autopilots, but Natasha and Steve liked to stay at the controls, at least while
they were flying over occupied lands.
Once the jet was clear of the continent and there was nothing but
Atlantic as far as the eye could see, they finally switched to the autopilot
and both sat back. Steve continued their earlier conversation, as if there’d
barely been a pause; it had been playing in his mind throughout the flight.
“So, you think we can find a way to remove the
triggers, really?” They’d had this conversation so many times before, but he
needed constant reassurance, that there was hope. Natasha didn’t mind, she
could sense how close he was at times to losing faith, was always happy to try
and talk him around, help him remain optimistic.
“Someone put those triggers in there. So,
there’s got to be a way to get them out. And now we have another tool…” her
eyes flicked to the back of the jet, where the Shadow sat, still, lost in a
world of her own. “… it could be the thing that helps.”
Hitchhiked thru the south of France, spent a lovely day
Pyrenaic-hiking beneath a chilly blue sun, trekking into Spain &
ascending to sleep atop Taillón, enshrouded by eerie sweetness of soft
silent fog (drifting off, asleep in a cloud).
Olympus XA + Psychedelic Blues Film (Kodak Gold 400)
The archer, Barton, shrugs and drops down next to him, close enough to touch. He drums his heels against the giant glowing A and seems willing to share silence with him, which generous as they all have been is not something anyone else has been willing to let him have.
Bucky lets out a long breath after a second, fog drifting through the clear air. Barton cocks his head a little - unspoken signal he’s listening.
“I just - Steve keeps trying to fix me - ” he gestures, vaguely, in the air by his head, “and Tony keeps trying to fix me -” another gesture, this time with the metal arm - “and I just - ”
“Wanna make your own stuff work,” Barton finishes for him, and Bucky could kiss him, seriously, for getting that ‘broken beyond repair’ doesn’t mean useless, or done.
You’d been Oh Sehun’s stylist for a while now. Three months now, in fact, and despite the critical acclaim EXO had gotten over the past few years, you honestly didn’t know how much more of this personal hell you could take.
Granted, Sehun wasn’t a bad-natured individual, but after the first few jokes he threw at you, the teasing had dominoed to a point where he was becoming like your personal poltergeist.
“Yah! (y/n)-ah, you messed up my bangs!”
“Why do you look so tired all the time? It’ll only add wrinkles when you get older.”
“Stop using this brand of hairspray. I’m pretty sure it aggravates my skin.”
That, combined with SM’s incomprehensibly busy schedule that ran on the ‘tell-you-at-the-last-possible-minute’ system, was beginning to eat away at your sanity.
Still… You needed this job. It paid pretty well, and jobs in general were getting rather scarce. Others would call you lucky, but you just considered yourself fortunate that you had a family member refer you to EXO’s manager and snag you a job.
You suppressed your complaints. You were very easily replaceable, and if Sehun mentioned anything that so much as hinted as a complaint, you knew you’d be tossed to the curb in less time than you could blink.
You had lasted three months, and you’d be damned if you let this somewhat bratty idol get in the way of your steady income.
Your morale, however, hit an all time low when you misplaced your favorite necklace.
You weren’t one for jewelry, or any other overly-priced luxury for that matter. This necklace was your most precious keepsake: the only thing left from your best friend, who moved abroad a few years back, and news of passing hit you last Christmas.
You distinctly remembered throwing it into your handbag on your way to work, being too short on time in the morning to put it on properly. The hectic day carried on and it left your memory until you returned home. When you looked through the pockets, it was nowhere to be found. You nearly tore the bag to shreds looking for it, but with no success.
The next few days at work were dismal, as a nearly visible cloud of gloom hung over you like a fog and drifted to your coworkers.
Sehun noticed your lack of comebacks to his usual teasing.
“You parted my hair on the wrong side, idiot.” He would comment.
“I’m sorry.” You would mumble back.
“This is the wrong brand of BB cream, go get me the other one.”
“Why are you such a doormat? Buck up.”
Eventually, Sehun got overwhelmingly frustrated, grabbing the styling comb from your hands and turning around in his chair to face you.
“Okay (y/n), what’s wrong.” You’d never seen him glare at you so seriously before.
“Nothing.” You lied.
“Did you have a boyfriend?” He questioned. “Did he break up with you.”
“No. It’s nothing.”
“Are you having financial struggle? You know I can just tell our manager that-”
“No.” You stated firmly, avoiding his gaze and taking a deep breath. “I said it’s nothing. And that’s starting to get annoying.”
Sehun brushed his hair to the side and rested his head on his hand. “So what, do you get beat up at home, attacked by loan sharks? Tell me what-”
“Enough with the sass!” You shouted louder than you intended, silencing the other members within the dressing room, along with their stylists.
You quieted your voice, physically embarrassed. “I lost something very precious to me a few days ago, alright?”
“Oh,” Sehun nodded in weak understanding. “I guess you won’t want the present I got you then.”
He started to stand, but you grabbed his arm before he could get up and walk away.
“You got me a present?” You gave him an incredulous look. “Why on earth-”
“Nope.” He huffed, smirking. “I guess you don’t want it.”
It was then that you noticed he had his hand balled into a fist behind him. Without giving him a moment to react you reached for it, attempting to grapple for the object in his hand.
“Show me what’s behind your back.” Your voice tensed, showing your annoyance.
“Not unless you promise me something.” Sehun stared down at you with a surprisingly solemn expression, and it made you freeze.
“Like what?” You huffed and crossed your arms against your chest.
“You have to smile every day at work now.” Sehun blurted, barely letting you get your words out.
His gaze didn’t falter.
“I miss your smile.”
That was the last thing you expected to hear at the moment.
Your stance visibly faltered as you stumbled backwards. You felt your heart clench inexplicably, your mind going into a haze.
A shiny object dropping right in front of your face shook you out of your trance.
“…Hello? Earth to (y/n).”
It was your necklace.
“H-how did you..?” You stuttered.
“It fell out of your bag… And I saw one of the other stylists pick it up.” Sehun grabbed your palm and dropped the necklace into it. “She was wearing it for a while before I confronted her about it.”
You were speechless.
“Needless to say you won’t be seeing her around the workplace anymore.”
He closed your fingers around the necklace, still amused at your lucid daze.
“Don’t forget,” He smiled, turning around to leave and giving you a wave. “You made me a promise.”
You still couldn’t speak, too shocked to respond.
“I better see your gorgeous smile again by tomorrow morning.”
OMG THIS IS SOOOO LONGGGG I’m sorry… I don’t really know where this went but before I knew it, it was almost 1,000 words and I was no where near ending it… HAVV SOME SASSY TSUNDERE SEHUN!! Hope you liked it anon, (tysm for saying so!)~
Overcast, fog drenched mornings like this were still unsettling for Duo.
They remind him, ironically, of his childhood in space. Of atmosphere stabilizers too old and too broken to compensate, of a government that would rather have its weakest and poorest die off than have to take care of them, of the plague.
It had taken two years of not so pointed and then very pointed suggestions from Wufei before Duo agreed to move, agreed to leave his position at Preventers and join Wufei in the small, sleepy town where Wufei taught philosophy at some ivy covered university.
Duo had been the last one left, had stuck it out even after Trowa had nearly died on their last mission together and decided to take his disability pension and travel the colonies with Heero. He had even stayed after Wufei had one final, furious showdown with Une- a shouting match that had ended with Duo, still limping from the bullet he had taken in his thigh, hauling Wufei away before security could be called.
He had stayed, despite the danger- or maybe because of it- that came from being the only field agent Une could rely upon to do anything necessary to preserve the peace.
But after two years of going it alone, or seeing all of his former comrades settled and safe and happy, Duo had realized he wanted that for himself. Wanted more than just a weekend here or there, a few hours between flights, a late night drink in a hotel bar before Wufei went back to his life, went back to his small, sleepy town and his safe, settled neighborhood.
So Duo let Wufei win the last fight, let Wufei convince him to leave behind Preventers and move to the country.
And he was happy. Happier than he had any right to be. He woke up early, as the first blue light peaked over the mountain ridge that guarded the small, sleepy town. Wufei slept later, and Duo puttered around the garage for those two hours, checked the news feeds, hacked into the Preventers database to see if the world were about to go up in flames, toyed with Wufei’s car.
It was quiet in those two hours, quiet like the dead of space.
The silence was so loud Duo sometimes thought he would go insane, but just when it got to be too much, he would hear a bird chirping away, or a squirrel charging up a tree. He would be reminded of all of the life around him, would be reminded of the small, sleepy little town and the beautiful man asleep in their bed.
And most mornings, that would be enough. It would settle the nauseating coil of anxiety in Duo’s gut and he would sip his coffee and read the new recruit performance reviews from HQ.
But mornings like this, when the fog rolled in over the mountains and Duo could almost see the faces of ghosts floating in the distance, birdsong wasn’t enough to soothe him.
On those mornings he climbed back into the bed, curled around himself and stared at Wufei as he slept, at his strong, familiar face and the easy, even rise and fall of his chest and he drew one breath after another.
Sometimes Wufei woke up, frowning to find Duo staring at him, but then reaching out and lacing his hand through Duo’s in silent support.
Sometimes he didn’t wake up, and Duo would spend two hours watching him, making sure he was still breathing.
Making sure he didn’t drift off into the fog.
meditation will help one to connect to past lives and their true self.
Begin by setting up a conducive
environment. Make sure your space is quiet and comfortable, you’ll want the
room to be clean. You may wish to light some incense, and put on some relaxing
Sit in a comfortable position. I recommend
a straight backed chair. Close your eyes and relax.
If you have a preferred trance induction technique, use it now. My
favorite is as follows.
You may wish to record yourself reading the rest of the exercise
and play it back as a guided meditation.
“Focus on your breathing, deep slow breaths. In… and out. In…
and out. Let your muscles relax, beginning at your toes, moving up into your
feet. Each muscle slowly relaxing as you move your attention up into your legs.
Muscles relaxing, tension easing away. Into your thighs as you move slowly
deeper in a calm, relaxed state. Up into your torso, muscles relaxing, thoughts
drifting by. Nothing to worry about, nothing to think about but relaxing as you
move up into your shoulders, deeper and deeper into relaxation. Down into your
arms, muscles relaxing and coming to rest. Into your hands and your fingers,
strain and stress fading away. Now up into your neck, muscles unknotting,
stress dissipating and fading away as we move up into your head and your face.
The last of your stress melting away, and your thoughts drifting into a deep
The darkness behind your eyes begins to resolve into a forest.
The night surrounds you, warm and comforting. A silver fog drifts between the
trees, so that you can hardly see more than a few feet in any direction. There
is something familiar and welcoming about this place. Crickets and frogs chirp
all around you, and in the distance the call of an owl. The air is just the
right temperature, and a bed of moss is soft beneath your bare feet. There is a
scent of night air, the loamy aroma of leaf litter, and a vague hint of wild
You hear footsteps crunching through the leaves. You find that
you know intuitively that whatever’s approaching is yourself. Another you.
Someone that you have been once upon a time. At first you see only a shadow
approaching, but they slowly come into view. Your past self stops in front of
you, and waits for you to speak.
Have your conversation, and when you’re done, your other self
steps forward and into you, and you remember that you are one. The forest fades
into the darkness, and you slowly return to the physical world.
I’m half asleep
Stuck in a daydream
Through the fog
I’m wandering around the graveyard
Like a lost dog
Maybe I’m beneath the ground
Tethererd to a place to aimlessly pace
For centuries to come
No option to run.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~HERE WE GO Y'ALL*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The dawnlight and the drift of the fog across the ground makes Jon feel like he is trespasser into some mystical realm. Well, this is the realm of the dead, he reminds himself, and readjusts his grip on the leather thong wrapped ‘round his palm. The bag over his shoulder isn’t even to the close to the heaviest burden he’s ever carried, but he can’t ignore its weight as the frosted grass crumples under his boots. He’d overheard Morgan tell Sansa over their kidney pie that, yes, the ground had started to thaw as the last of the Winter snows had melted and started to run towards the White Knife, but it was not yet warm enough to till.
Jon doesn’t need to till for crops though—he has but a single hole to dig.
A/N: Hey, guys! Thanks for the likes and comment last time :) I really appreciate it. Quick notes: This is a Reader placeholder story. If you would prefer an already named character head over to fanfiction.net :) as the rules don’t allow Y/N stories lol so I had to wing it over there. Same exactly story, just a more fleshed out character. Also, I had fun writing this chapter. I gained a lot of inspiritafion from the comics, but it alludes to the show as well also I apologize if the format looks weird…I’m really trying to get this whole Tumblr thing :(.
Your head was spinning, and you were doing your best to stay awake. The pain was overwhelming you, and the blood loss wasn’t helping either. All you wanted was to crawl back in your bed, and sleep forever. But, considering the latest turn of events that wasn’t likely to happen. You jolted up a bit when you heard the door of the RV slam hard against its side, signaling that whoever was inside was now on his way towards you. Parker was still holding you tightly, making sure you weren’t able to move out of your kneeling position. If you weren’t so out of it, you would’ve fought to be out of this degrading position. The sound of boots crossing over the dirt made you look up, until you could barely register the shape of a rather tall man standing in front of you. Your vision was slowly glazing over, but you attempted to tilt your head back when you saw a bat moving towards your face. You winced when you felt a slight pain in your chin, realizing that it was the bat, only this time you clearly saw the barbed wire wrapped around it.
He lifts your chin up with his bat, smiling down at you as he speaks. “Hi. I’m Negan.” His voice was eerily calm, and your E/C eyes glanced up at him, breathing coming out in shallow spurts. You didn’t even really register his name, too busy trying to keep yourself from giving in to your feeling of faint. You couldn’t speak, breathing hurt enough as it is, but even then the fear that was in you was enough to keep your mouth shut. When you didn’t respond to his introduction, he only scoffed before looking you over. Eyes trailing down your face before he rubbed his beard in thought. “Well, my my my!” He put emphasis on the last word, laughing to himself as he removed his bat from your chin only to pace around in front of you. “Looks like we hit the jackpot fellas!” He gestured to you with a gloved hand, looking around at his men as he laughed. “When’s the last time you saw a woman this god-DAMN beautiful?” You could hear laughing coming from all around you, but you didn’t dare look up. At this point you were hoping for a quick death delivered by his hands. Anything to stop the pain of your wound, and the constant ridicule coming from the people around. Your thoughts were broken when you saw steel toed boots come up in front of you, the man crouched down to your level. The grin he had earlier was still plastered on his face, pearly white teeth showing as he stared at you.
“What’s your name, sweetheart? I’m absolutely dying to know.”
When you didn’t immediately answer him, he grabbed your face roughly making you look directly at him. “Come on now, gorgeous. You killed two of my men, the least you could do is tell me your name?”
You swallowed, and tried to form a coherent sentence, but only gibberish was coming out. He made a clicking noise with his mouth, clearly becoming a bit frustrated by your lack of cooperation with him. His hand moved from your chin to your shoulder, gripping it tightly and willing your body to move a bit more up. “Now I’m being nice here, sweetheart. So-“ He cut his sentence short as his eyes trailed down your body, finally taking notice of the blood soaking your tank top.
“Shit!” He laughed, “Now that don’t look good, must be hurting like a mother fucking bitch.” If you were hoping for any sympathy from him, he wasn’t giving it. That grin never left his face. That was until his eyes landed on your chest, taking note of your ripped shirt. You saw his jaw tighten, and that twinkle of amusement in his eyes quickly faded away. He lifted himself up, standing tall once again in his commanding stance. His hand flew up to his face, stroking his beard as he let out a small laugh and gesturing at all his men.
“What the fuck are we doing here? What are we trying to achieve?!”
“For fuck’s sake, don’t just goddamn stand there! Someone answer me!”
A man to his right spoke, “I’m not sure what you mean, sir?”
Negan shook his head and twirled his bat around, clearly not satisfied with anyone at the moment. “Never mind, Simon. Don’t answer that. There’s no fucking way any of you pricks understand the bigger picture here. We’re trying to build a fucking community! We all got to work together to accomplish that. But!” He pointed up, trying to convey the importance of what he was about to say. He shook his hand as he let his gaze fall upon Parker, and Craig.
“But, we cannot begin to accomplish this if we have sunk to such…in-fucking-human levels!”
He suddenly moved forward, hand grasping Parker’s shirt in an unforgiving grip. “Repeat after me. We. Don’t. Rape.” His espresso eyes were cold, anger raging behind them as he stared directly at the man who so gleefully assaulted you. Parker was panicking in Negan’s grasp, fumbling for words as he tried to express his innocence. “I didn’t rape her, sir! We just fooled around with her for a bit! All in good fun!” Craig was looking at the scene playing out before him, nodding his head reluctantly as Parker spoke. Negan threw him to the ground, that devilish smile appearing on his lips once more. “All in good fun? Did you hear that, sweetheart?”
You looked up at him, sweat dripping down your forehead making your h/c hair stick to your skin. He twirled his bat in front of you, stopping it just directly next to your face. “This is Lucille, sweetheart. And, she is awesome.” You gave him an odd look, eyes darting from Lucille to him over and over again. A deep chuckle left him as he winked at you. “Don’t worry, babygirl. She isn’t thirsty for you.” At that, you heard Parker start backing off, his thick boots kicking into the ground as he tried getting away. Apologies, and pleas rolling off his tongue as Negan began to move towards him. He began repeating Negan’s words earlier, trying anything to get him to stop advancing on him.
“We don’t rape! We don’t rape!”
Negan barked with laughter, lifting Lucille over his head. “Come on now, you stupid fuck. Have some dignity.” And with that Lucille came crashing down onto your assailants head, making you gasp and cringe as his blood splattered onto your face. You kneeled there in shock, mouth agape as fear set into your body. Any doubts that you had of that actually happening were silenced as Craig fell to the ground in his own fear, trying in vain to move away from Negan and his Lucille. Time seemed to slow down around you, and you were trembling as the only sounds that were making it through to you were those of Lucille coming down on Parker repeatedly. Your heart quickened, and you felt on the verge of hyperventilating as the darkness began to overcome you in your state of shock and pain. The last thing you remember was the feeling of your body hitting the ground, and Negan’s voice carrying across the wind.
“Simon, doesn’t Craig look a little cold? How about we fucking warm things up a bit?”
Your eyes drifted open, the fog of consciousness rushing over you as you darted your eyes around your current settings. You didn’t move, trying to focus on the voice calling to you.
“Logan…?” You tried lifting yourself with your hand, only managing to get one shoulder up before falling back onto the soft surface of something. You groaned, trying to focus on the sound of your brother’s voice calling to you. You leaned over trying to grab at anything you could get your hands on but only succeeded in falling, slamming rather hard into the floor. If anything could wake you up from your dream, that was it. You groaned in discomfort, sitting up and realizing slowly that you were in a bedroom. You scanned the room in confusion. This can’t be real, you thought. It was a rather large room, and it seemed completely untouched by the world outside. A large painting hung over the fireplace, and the windows were decorated with fine curtains. Everything in this room was immaculate, and you found yourself shifting out of the sheets that fell with you on the floor needing to explore this a bit more because you weren’t quite sure you believed it was real. As you hoisted yourself up, you winced and held your side. You looked down and found in place of your large gash, a bandage. Odd. You decided to ignore that for now in place of finding your clothes. You were currently only in lounge shorts and a rather thin tank top. Comfy for sure, but not ideal for the harsh world you lived in. You held onto the side of the bed as you got up, walking around the room in awe. You let your fingers glide delicately across the mahogany furnishings throughout the room. It all felt so odd, this wasn’t the way things were supposed to be now. Even in your home the wood was rotting. You startled when you heard footsteps approaching the doors, panic setting in you managed to find a scalpel in a bin next to the bed. You reached for it and hid on the side of the door, waiting for whoever was coming. The door slid open, and as soon as you saw someone you tried to rush them. But they were much quicker than you, and overpowered you with no issue. They grabbed your wrist and twisted you to their front, and the force made you fall to the ground. You let out a yelp when you hit, pain radiating towards your now stitched wound. You held onto that side, and scrambled to get up.
“Well, well, well, seems you are getting better, sweetheart.”
You heard a deep laugh coming from behind you and the sound of boots thumping against the floor as they advanced on you. When you glanced up you gasped and felt all blood drain from your face. He must’ve noticed because his lips stretched into a very knowing smirk.
“Now now…none of that here, darling. There’s nothing to be scared of. I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m not a fucking monster.” He said that last part with that same smirk on his face which didn’t exactly ease your worries.
“I don’t make a habit of preying on the weak, especially beautiful women.” You scoffed at that. And he leaned down, extending his hand out to you. It was at this moment you really had time to take in his appearance, considering last night you were basically unconscious. He was a tall man, clad in a leather jacket and a red scarf. For this day and age he actually carried himself rather well. His salt and peppered beard was well kept, clothes crisp and cleaned. Being honest with yourself, he was rather handsome looking. But, it was a fleeting thought for you, he was after all a murderer. You gripped the scalpel in your hand tighter, not forgetting this is the same man who bashed one of his own into the ground with a bat named ‘Lucille’. Granted, that man was a lowlife son of a bitch who deserved it. But, still. This man was clearly capable of killing in the most brutal of ways. You launched forward and clumsily swung the scalpel around, just trying to aim for him. And he only laughed as he begin backing away and dodging your feeble attempts at an attack. Your next step was weak, and you found your body giving out as you stumbled forward, but he caught you in his arms and held you tight before you fell to the ground again. Your back was pressed against his leather clad chest, his strong arms holding you a little too tight for comfort. His gloved hand pulled the weapon from you tossing it aside and his breath ghosted over your ear.
“Now darling, if you want things to end with you in one piece I suggest you cut this shit, and listen.” You stiffened, clearly uncomfortable with the proximity, you could practically feel the hairs of his beard tickling your skin.
But when he noticed no sign of struggle from you he pushed you towards the bed, your body falling onto it. He paced the room, hands casually in his pockets, while he smiled to himself. He turned to you and spoke so suddenly and confidently. His smile widened and he placed his hand on his chest.
“I’m going to assume you were too fucked up last night to remember, so I’ll forgive you this once, doll. But, let me introduce myself again. I’m Negan.”
You gave him a skeptical look, and he walked forwards and leaned down a bit to be at your level.
“See, doll. This is where you tell me your name. I’m assuming your parents taught you better than this.” You stayed quiet, not wanting to give any information that you didn’t deem necessary.
He clicked his tongue at you in a mock way of disappointment. “I just saved your precious ass, brought you to our damn good doctor, had you stitched up and even gave you a nice bath to clean you up.” He laughed when he saw the disturbed look on your face at that last part.
“Don’t worry, doll. I’m a perfect gentleman, the doctor’s assistants helped with that.” You sighed in relief at that. You didn’t want to imagine being unconscious while some stranger put his hands all over you, and by the way he looked at you, you knew he’d probably enjoy that. And it seemed he picked up on your thoughts because he grinned at you in such a charmingly annoying manner.
“But, if you ever need a helping hand with that in the future. I’m your man. I’ll even be gentle.” You felt your face flush at his words, and he only seemed to be spurred on by that. A deep look of satisfaction coming over his dark eyes. He kneeled in front of you, placing his hands on either side of your body. “Now, don’t you think I deserve a little cooperation here, darling? I kept my hands to myself and even managed to save your life. So, cut the fucking silent treatment and tell me who the fuck you are.”
You stared at him, and even though that smile was still on his face you felt your spine shiver in slight fear. His tone was a total different story, and you wondered how he managed to still smile amongst threatening someone. No matter how vague those threats were. You nodded softly.
He tilted his head back in consideration. Repeating your name a few times, letting it settle on his tongue. He stood up, and looked down at you. “That actually sounds right.”
Then he pointed at himself again, “Now who am I again, darling?” You gave him an odd look, but answered anyway. Sensing that this man probably had very little patience. “Negan.” You said.
He smirked. “That’s right, darlin’ and boy do I love the way it rolls off that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” You let out a quiet sigh of annoyance, not really wanting him to hear it for fear he’d harm you.
“Now don’t forget that, sweetheart.” And his face turned serious. “Because, that’s the name of the man you goddamn belong to now. All your shit in that house you were holed up in, that belongs to me. The knife you killed my men with? That belongs to fucking me. Which by the way was so not cool. Decent fighters are hard to come by now days, so I’d very much appreciate it if you kept your pretty little self from killing any of them again.”
He paused and looked down at you, waiting for a response. You only stared at him in disbelief. Who the hell did he think he was to waltz in here and decide you were his property. Like some random piece of garbage you find at garage sale.
You glared up at him, and in a defiant tone said “I don’t belong to anyone.” Which in hindsight was a mistake. He suddenly gripped your chin rather hard, making you wince as he pulled your face closer to his own. You could feel his hot breath brush against your cheek. You grabbed at his hand trying to pry it off you but he held you still.
“Listen, doll face. And listen very fucking well because I hate repeating myself. I own you. And for your own good, you better fucking start accepting that right now. Because I’d hate to leave a mark on that pretty face of yours.”
Your breathing quickened in fear. It could all be empty threats from him. After all, why save your life just to take it. Not to mention he said he doesn’t make a habit of hurting beautiful women, then again that could be simple flirting on his behalf. But, you weren’t going to test him. You meekly nodded. Hands trembling a bit as he looked you over. He gave you another one of his charming smiles, running his tongue across his bottom lip.
“Now that’s my good girl. So, tell me. Who owns you?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, and reluctantly spoke. Ignoring the raging anger building up inside you.
“You…” You opened your mouth, the words not wanting to come out. You exhaled and shakily said, “You own me.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. That’s right.” He smiled triumphantly down at you. Bringing his leather gloved hand to stroke your cheek. You stiffened at his touch, feeling very much like a play thing to a cat. He walked away from you and to the large windows across the room. You heard him bang on them, signaling to someone outside before coming back over to you.
“Docs gonna look after you for a bit. Until you can manage to get yourself up again, without falling the fuck over.”
You knew you probably shouldn’t have asked, but everything was coming at you so fast right now. And you weren’t completely comfortable with the direction.
“Why are you doing this?”
Negan turned to look at you, having stopped on his way towards the door. “We make it a habit of knowing every group, every person that walks around these parts. I don’t know how long you were at that piece of shit house, but you managed to evade my men long enough to hide some pretty serious stock there. Now, I could simply take it all as payment for having killed two of my men, and let you be on your merry fucking way, or I could take it all anyway and keep you as well and use you as I see fit. The way I fucking see it, you’re more useful right next to me.”
You only looked down, thinking over his words as he reached for the door handle. While his offer, or more like demand, didn’t seem too terrible you didn’t much care for him. He was an arrogant prick, who acted like the world revolved around him. And being honest, he frightened you just a bit. He was charming for certain, but he meant business. And you were sure getting on his bad side wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Especially after what you witnessed last night. And yet, if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be here right now. You could’ve easily died from an infected wound, which in this day wasn’t hard to do. So you looked back at him and nodded. Having come to that agreement that you would help him gather whatever it is he seemed to need. Before he could leave you spoke, “thank you…” he hummed in response, looking over at you, sensing you had more to say.
“Thank you, for not just, ya know…leaving me there to die.”
He smirked, “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Don’t make me regret it.” He winked at you, and exited the room leaving you to your thoughts. You wanted to pretend all of this was ok, that despite his attitude and vague threats you’d be fine. But, you couldn’t help but listen to that nagging voice in the back of your head telling you otherwise, and to be careful.
Just then the door opened and you swung your head towards it, hearing a man call your name.
“Hi, y/n. I’m Dr. Carson. Or you can just call me Harlan.”
He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back. It was quite possibly the first genuine smile you’ve been given since the beginning of all this.
“Thank you…Harlan. I’m assuming all this was you?” You gestured towards your sutures. Giving him a grateful smile. He nodded and walked over to you, grabbing a pair of gloves and removing some of the bandaging. “It looks like it’s healing up well, not quite yet to be removed but you’re a strong one.” He replaced the bandages and cleaned around the area a bit. Before removing his gloves and speaking.
“I know you’re probably eager to get out of here, must be quite a shock for you. Running into the saviors then finding yourself here.” He gave you an apologetic look, sighing before taking a seat in a chair nearby.
“And where exactly am I?…and who are the saviors.”
He brushed a hand through his hair and cleared his throat.
“Well, this would be Hilltop. It’s our colony, a couple of us built it a while back. It’s not much, but now days it counts for something. As far as the saviors go, well….all I can tell you is that they mean business. They’re Negan’s group. Who you pretty much just met. When all this first started there was a small group of men whose duty it was to kill the roamers. They protected us. Eventually, that group turned into the much larger group and called themselves the saviors. And they answer only to Negan.”
You lifted your eyebrows and titled your head a bit in affirmation. How could you forget that man? So he was their leader then? Fitting. He let off an aura of power, commanded attention just at the very mention of his name.
“So, you work for them?” He didn’t need to spell it out for you, judging by the look on his face after even mentioning the Saviors you knew the agreement they must have had wasn’t a fair one. Or a safe one. Not shocking.
The doctor nodded his head, leaning forward in the chair and clasping his hands together. “We do what we can here. Do as you’re told, you survive. I’m not saying it’s fair or right, but it’s just how it works now. Just…just be careful.” He got up, and poured a glass of water for you from a nearby pitcher. He brought it over to you with some pills.
“I’d hate to see you die after having just patched you up.” You let out a small laugh, grabbing the water and swallowing the pill. Assuming it was an antibiotic to stave off infection.
He nodded gesturing to the bathroom.
“Feel free to use the facilities at any time, I’d advise you against walking out of the room for now. You need rest, I’ll have Jesus bring in some food for you later. I wish I could say you’ll be here for a while, but I have a feeling Negan will be back for you.” His lips lifted in a small smile, but you could tell it wasn’t genuine. And you knew it had to be because of Negan. He felt sorry for you, as to why, well…your imagination could conjure up a few reasons. You heard the door close and you just lied back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling.