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wilhelmjfink · 5 years

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“It’s Them” (3/3)

A/N: third of three parts, i promise, no more. this was really weird to write b/c I’ve never written about hating Daryl LOL but Negan is super fun for me to write b/c I, too, am a charming and perverted asshole who swears way too much

enjoy xoxo

“Hey,” Lola repeated herself harshly, an inch from your face to catch your attention after she’d watched the color drain from your face. Eyes wide as saucers you stood frozen, trapped inside your own little world until she nudged you harshly enough to bring you back to her. “You good? Who’s ‘them’?”

You hadn’t ever anticipated running into them again, especially not after it had been so long and you’ve travelled so far and ran into so many communities. In the back of your mind, you suppose you just assumed they’d died, falling victim to the plague or at the hands of another human they crossed paths with. You recognized most of them, though the days had taken their toll on them and showing the hardships they faced through tired eyes and scars and long, unkempt hair. The kid was taller, forced out of his fair shot at a normal childhood and into the unrelenting life you all lived as a responsible, tactical fighter. A survivor.

Were they the only ones left? Three of the original ten or twelve people you’d holed up with at the very beginning of it all? You’d always known the archer would make it — Daryl. His name sent an unwelcome chill down your spine, memories of stone cold glares and harsh words and insults being thrown your way resurfacing against your will. He didn’t look good at all, blood staining the front of his clothing and a bright, vibrant contrast against his pale skin, dark, hooded eyes... you felt a pang of sadness strike before burying it back underneath the betrayal and hurt with ease.

You watched Negan as he sauntered back and forth before the crew, talking out of his ass as usual, outlining his ground rules and how things worked for him. You’d seen it dozens of times, and it always seemed to work, groups falling beneath his reign of terror and obeying him like some sort of diety. You’d always joked to him that he was lucky he was good looking or you might never take him seriously.

He mentioned something about a woman who looked deathly ill as she tried her best to keep upright in a kneeling position and it sent Glenn reeling, jumping up from his seat and scrambling toward her, begging for her safety.

“Get ‘em back in line,” Negan said gruffly to the men who had grabbed your old friend. You watched him rub a tired hand on the scruff of his beard and heard him mutter about shaving, and you rolled your eyes to yourself.

The lecture went on and Negan’s voice rose with each word, and when his sights landed on Daryl and you knew instantly what was on his mind: Daryl was a force to be reckoned with and it showed through his body language, his stone-cold eyes that glared Negan down fearlessly despite his poor condition, and you knew your leader was threatened by it. He still smiled, though, looking carefree and confident as ever, even in the face of Daryl refusing to tell say his name.

But before Negan could do anything drastic about it you figured you’d save him the trouble, knowing Daryl wouldn’t break easily, and you stepped forward from the frontline with a newly discovered confidence in yourself. “His name’s Daryl.”

Negan whipped around, obviously not having expected one of his own soldiers to identify him, let alone you, and the anger on his face diminished to that of almost pleasant surprise and he cocked an eyebrow at you inquisitively.

“Is it now?” He asked you, his tone inflicting upwards in amusement. “Do you know these people, doll? You have a history here with ol’ Daryl?”

He was feeding your anger and you thrived from it, taking in every last ounce of his cocky attitude for your own benefit as you stepped even farther forward into the circle, allowing the floodlights to illuminate your face so your old teammates could finally recognize you in all your mother fucking glory.

“Yeah, you could say that,” you chided, smiling as you watched the horrified realization wash over Rick’s face as he knelt before you. “We go back.”

Negan was observing from behind you, a wide, snake-like grin on his face, enjoying the unexpected turn of events the night had brought him. If there was one thing he loved more than asserting his dominance over someone, it was asserting his dominance over someone with his arm around somebody they used to know. There was a small part of you that had been hesitant to say anything — Negan could be a loose cannon, to say the least, and you weren’t positive your familiarity with the group he’d been hunting for weeks would anger him or not. But from what you could tell at that moment, he was legitimately excited.

“Well, shit,” he sneered, turning between you and the group of your old friends before him. “I do love me a good story.”

You opened your mouth to speak but he stopped you with a gloved finger to your mouth and a commanding stare which, if you were being honest with yourself, stirred up wickedly beautiful butterflies in your stomach that you smothered back down. Not the time.

“As much as I love to hear your voice, doll, I think I wanna hear this one from ol’ Ricky.”

With a flourished wave of his hand he gave Rick the stage with eager anticipation and you couldn’t fight the slightly maniacal chuckle that erupted from deep inside your chest at the sight, excited to hear what he had to say about that fateful night years ago that left you the bitter and untrusting person you were today. Would he try to change it? Would he lie? You had a feeling that, even if he was dumb enough to make up some bullshit story, Negan would see right through it.

Though, you weren’t sure if you’d ever told Negan about your past before. He knew you’d come from a group that left you, but that was it. No names, no details. You wanted to forget it had ever happened.

Rick was absolutely shaken, lips parting while he tried to speak but words failed him, eyes wide as saucers that were like windows allowing you to see right inside to his soul: shocked, incredulous, defeated.

“Today, preferably,” Negan encouraged from beside you impatiently, though it was obvious he was still enjoying himself. It did kick Rick into drive, and he stuttered pathetically while his eyes never left you.

“Y/N, we thought...” the sound of your name leaving his mouth left you angry and your own eyes narrowed, fighting the urge to smack him across the face for it. “We thought you...”

“Died?” You snapped, not allowing him to finish his fragmented thought. Of course they’d thought you died. You wondered if they’d left anyone else behind, too worried about getting themselves out of the hysteria to check for life among the walkers that had wandered in. You laughed cynically; you’d thought of this moment before, but nothing could have prepared you for the whirlwind of emotions you were experiencing. “Well, surprise! I’m still kickin’! No thanks to you guys.”

“We saw you get taken down,” Glenn chimed in from your left, his voice just as unsteady and surprised as Rick’s, almost sounding like he didn’t even believe himself. “We saw the walkers, we saw them — “

“I don’t care what you saw,” you bit back at him. “If you hadn’t just left me, what you would’ve seen was me fighting for my life, alone, and fucking surviving. But you guys were scared, and you just fucking left me there!”

Nobody spoke amongst the occasional whimpers and sobs. The air around you was still as you fought to contain your anger but ultimately failing to do so, chest heaving, hands balled into fists at your sides.

“And now, you finally get to fucking pay for it.”

They all stiffened at your words and you smiled, eyes darting to movement as you watched Negan grin and throw a fleeting glance over his each shoulder before leaning to Simon, who stood behind him.

“I dunno about you guys, but I am hard as a rock right now.” He’d intentionally said it loud enough for everyone to hear him and Simon chuckled and shook his head while you merely rolled your eyes with a smile you tried to hide.

You used the momentary pause around you to take into account all the others that you didn’t see there; all the lives lost and all the paths parted. It was an odd feeling, almost nostalgic, and you decided that this was the time to quell the unresolved rage and grudges you were still harboring.

“We’re so sorry,” Rick stammered and you almost laughed in his face. “We...”

“You’re sorry?!” It took a second for you to realize that, yes, you had heard him right. “You think that’s gonna save your asses? You’re fuckin’ sorry?” You shook your head, a breathy laugh trying to subdue the oncoming tears of fury and betrayal you were feeling. “I’m the one that should be sorry!”

On a whim you marched over to Negan and held your hand out expectingly, swooning at the way his tongue snakes across his teeth with that classic shit-eating grin that had nothing but bad and dirty thoughts behind it at the thought of you holding Lucille in your vengeful grasp.

“Oh, my,” his voice was gravelly, so low you almost couldn’t hear it. His dark eyes gave you a once-over, up and down, leaving you feeling deliciously vulnerable under his burning gaze. You could feel your cheeks heat up and the tips of your ears burning under the blush and you struggled to remain as demanding as you had been two seconds prior. “What’s the magic word, babygirl?”

His voice was heavenly and could’ve knocked the senses from you, sending the world around you spinning in the best way and you giggled quietly, clutching onto the anger that was just driving you as it dwindled away.

“You’re making it really hard — “

“You’re telling me,” he smirked, stirring up more violent butterflies inside of you and you were finding it increasingly difficult to focus.

“You’re making it really fucking difficult to stay mad,” you said through clenched teeth, reaching forward to grasp onto Lucille and not surprised when Negan didn’t instantly let go. But before he could throw in another perverted and deterring remark at you, you wrapped your fingers delicately around her handle and slid your hand down toward the knob, slow and dramatic, allowing Negan to take in your intentionally erotic movements before he looked back to you with furiously hungry eyes and drank in your appearance in the shadowed lights. With one last ounce of self-control you cocked your head at him and, looking up through batting eyelashes, dug deep for your best attempt at looking innocent: “Please, daddy?”

Negan’s eyes about rolled back into his head and he released his grip on Lucille, throwing his head back with a ferocious groan at your response.

“God damn!” He barked the words so loud you noticed several people jump and you laughed, taking the bat in both hands at her grip, admiring her in your grasp. “Let’s get this mother fucking show on the fucking road, folks! I don’t know how much longer I can wait!”

You turned back toward the group on their knees and the wheels in your head began turning, the possibilities endless with Lucille in your hands. Negan snuck up behind you at one point, giving you one last reminder:

“You be real careful with her, doll. Make her feel really good... and we just might return the favor.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes back into your head in ecstasy. His warm breath against your chilled skin was euphoric, and the way his scruff brushed against you harshly only heightened it. You couldn’t even fight the needy whimper that left your lips at the contact and, having heard it clear as day, Negan chuckled deeply as he stepped back and let you have the floor.

“Okay, back at it!” You stepped into action, wanting nothing more for it to be over then so that you could satisfy the commanding hunger and desire you were feeling for Negan, stronger than ever before, the adrenaline from the night mixing into the excitement and emitting a pleasant energy through your veins. Short, sweet and to the point, you were eager to get started and started walking along the lineup before you. “Eeney, meeney, miney, moe...”

mmmmffff :-)))) love me some negan ngl

thanks for reading!

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imaginethematsus · 7 years

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Imagine ✨ the osomatsu find your dairy where you describe your first meeting of them. What their reactions?

I wrote this with a Matsu and their future s/o who both have a huge crush on each other, but are also oblivious to the other’s feelings! (*´▽`*)

Osomatsu: He’s super excited about his brand new discovery and plopsdown immediately to read it, grinning to himself like a five-year old about tospread juicy gossip. Your first encounter probably wasn’t all that great ormemorable, but he still bursts out laughing, slapping his knee like he justremembered the most hilarious thing ever – “Haha, that really happened!” –, andeven though his pride is a little hurt when he notices you didn’t writelengthy paragraphs about how quick and hard you fell for him that day, orsomething equally romantic and silly like that, soon he is lost in the littlecurves of your handwriting, rewinding every little memory of you in his head.He wonders if you remember them the same way he does, or if you even rememberthem at all, and even though he wasn’t planning on invading your privacy thatmuch, he can’t help, but continue flipping through the pages, scanning themintently for his name. The mentions of him do get gradually sweeter as timeprogresses, and he feels his face becoming hotter each new sentence, each newreassurence that you really do like him as a person, and he has to forcehimself to look away so he can slam the diary closed. He doesn’t want to knowhow you feel about him right now – he will ask you personally some day. Histemporary fluster won’t stop him from making fun of you later, though, so doexpect embarrassing quotes and even more embarrassing nicknames. You probablywon’t see that diary back until he’s satisfied.

Karamatsu: He’s too curious not to take a peek, and he tries to play itoff as an accident, even though no one is around to witness it. He gets overlyemotional about how you describe your first meeting, your genuine excitementabout “meeting this weird person” turning into something extraordinarily poeticin his eyes. The further he reads, the more honest his embarrassment gets,practically holding back tears at the simple fact that he actually meanssomething to you, and he quickly runs off with his guitar to put his feelingsinto a song. He returns your diary the next day with the sweetest “Didn’t youforget something, my honey?”, but do not mistake it as a gentlemanly move – hewill be sure to remind you from time to time that you are, in fact, his fan,whatever that may mean in the language of Karamatsu. He wears that one outfityou think actually looks cool way too often, and he always plays that one songyou don’t think is half-bad, all with the intention of trying to flirt withyou, because hey, the “I know you like me, so be honest with yourself” attitudefits the rockstar image perfectly, doesn’t it? From another perspective, itjust looks like he’s trying very hard to impress you, though.

Choromatsu: God forbid he touched your personal belongings without yourpermission! His stupid, boorish brothers would probably do it, but not him,he’s a decent human being! But maybe… maybe just a little bit… wont hurt… right? He opens it up on a page nervously – it’s the day you two met –, and gets pleasantly surprisedby how okay he seemed in your eyes. It was probably only a little bit more thana plain impression he left on you at that time, but the fact that you didn’tmention him being awkward or gross at all makes him all delusional and suddenlyhe’s already planning your marriage in his head… He flips the page excitedly, andlittle love sparkles burn up in his eyes every time he sees his own name. He’salready almost halfway through when he realizes how nice you are to him, evenin your diary, how much you care about him as a person and how much you worryabout him, and he comes back to earth with the biggest skip of a heartbeat,realizing he really shouldn’t be doing what he’s doing. He gently closes yourdiary and hides it in a safe place until you come around. He looks superembarrassed about even having made the mistake of touching it, and he neverbrings it up later. But for some strange reason, you notice that he seems to bea little more… confident around you lately.

Ichimatsu: He gets super sweaty and anxious, and has a five minute debatewith himself whether he should touch your stuff or just leave it alone, decideshe’s too much of a chicken to do anything, leaves the room in a flustered rush,then awkwardly loops back to the exact same spot thirteen times, until hefinally grabs the diary, hands shaking, and peeks into it like it was his veryfirst porn magazine. He doesn’t particularly care about what you thought of himwhen you first met – or so he tries to make himself believe –, mainly because he’s 100% certain you don’tremember any of it, and even if you do, he was probably pathetic and scary andunapproachable in your eyes anyway, so why make his heart hurt any further. Thatdoes not mean he won’t read it, though – curiousity killed the cat, they say. Henearly chokes on spit when he sees you mentioning his cat friends first, andhow “the quiet mysterious guy with the scary stare” is probably a nice personat heart, because “the animals always know”, and he remembers you oncecomplimenting him about that, the resurfacing memories making him feel all warmand fuzzy inside. As he continues to read on, surprised by how many timesyou’ve actually written about him, he is met with an unfathomable amount of positivityabout him as a person – it is too much and he feels like he has to close thebook and hide it somewhere immediately before he explodes. You find your diarythe next day the same place you left it, even though you wonder how did noone comeacross it when it was lying around in such an obvious space. The work of fairies,maybe? Not to mention, Ichimatsu seems to be a little more fidgety around youall of a sudden, and you could swear the last time you looked into his eyes he…blushed. The work of fairies, it is.

Jyushimatsu: He holds the diary in his hands for a few minutes, with theall-famous blank expression on his face, examining it from all existing angles,when for some reason he decides it is now appropriate to look, and opens it upsurprisingly gently and carefully. He exhales sharply when he realizes it’s theday you two met and takes on a more serious stance. He remembers it well, andhis eyes light up and his smile widens as he realizes you too held your veryfirst memory dear. He feels like he could hit consecutive homeruns, maybe ahundred or two hundred in a row, so, how about he just does that instead ofbeing nosy? It’s not like he’s not curious at all – he wants to know how youfeel, both about him and the world, but he’s decided he will ask you about allof that later, when he gathers up the courage to. He hides the diary and runsoff with his trusting bat, to another day of adventure. You get your diary backeither that day or the day after, depending on whether Jyushimatsu knowsexactly where to find you, and he apologizes and admits he took a peek, but reassuresyou he didn’t read any further than your first meeting. The next time you’reout on a “date”, he says he has a surprise for you, and takes you back to thesame place everything started.

Todomatsu: You instantly get a message thatsays “didn’t you forget something~~?♡” witha picture of your diary attached to it. He has a hell of a fun time teasing you, butyou can’t really call it “blackmailing” in the end, because no matter how hard he tries,he’s too much a chicken to actually ask something from you in return. The wholeexchange between you stays on middle schooler level, with a bunch of “oh, Iread your deepest secret, what are you going to do about it” and “I’m about toflip to the next page” and various other empty threats that feel like a jokemore than anything, but you’re surprisingly okay with playing along. You knowvery well what’s behind that cocky attitude and superiority complex – a smallcritter, and nothing more than that –, and something’s telling you the little bunnywould be too scared to actually look through your stuff. What you don’t know isthat he did try, once, just once, he opened up the diary exactly on the day youmet, where you mentioned him and how you thought he smelled nice. He almost hada heart attack, and hasn’t touched it since, and probably, right now, he’sstill typing with the exact same flustered face, trying his best to keep hiscomposure.

#answered #scenario #osomatsu #karamatsu #choromatsu #ichimatsu #jyushimatsu #todomatsu #*all #Anonymous

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