wilhelmjfink

[wilhelmjfink]

site that you can type in the definition of a word and get the word

site for when you can only remember part of a word/its definition 

site that gives you words that rhyme with a word

site that gives you synonyms and antonyms

[wilhelmjfink]

IVE BEEN HERE AND STILL HERE FOR YOU💓

FIRST OF ALL HOW HAVE YOU BEEEN!?!? I hope life is not rough and is going great for you. Life’s been a bit tough for me nowadays, and I know a way to make it better:

can I request one with Daryl showing the pure side of him regardless his tough vibe🤩

welcome back 💖

OMFG HIIIII I LOVE YOU FOR BEING A DAY 1 PLAYER ❤️❤️❤️

Life has been W H A C K since Ive been on here last but lately I’ve been re-reading my old stuff and realize how much I miss my Daryl and Negan 🤤 I fell into a pit of Our Flag Means Death despair and have been writing nonstop abt Izzy. Just for myself. Lmao

I will get this done today or tomorrow and tag you!!! And I will work extra hard and hope it helps make life a little bit better for you!!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[wilhelmjfink]

*crawling on my hands and knees* YOU THINK I WOULD JUST TAKE THIS LOVELY COMPLIMENT AND NOT FUCK OFF FOR TWO WEEKS BEFORE RETURNING WITH A STORY?! That’s not how I do things. Apparently. Thank you so much for still being here @sweatywildpanda :,)

NGL I did struggle a bit with this request. It was my first in like a year and I had to get it perfect ya know? I hope it satisfies the angry Daryl that only gets angry because he doesn’t know how to love ❤️

~

It had taken you a lot of quiet contemplation and reflection before you began to understand why Daryl only ever seemed to get mad. He didn’t get scared, or sad, or hopeful and excited. He got mad. All those years ago when you’d first met him, you thought he was just an asshole. Just a junkie, scumbag redneck asshole like his older brother. But maybe it was everybody else’s similar opinion of him they formulated the second they looked at him (you were guilty, too) that made you stop and think that, maybe, there was something deeper in those ocean blue eyes that always seemed to be smoldering with some sort of fury, ready to snap at any second.

No, he was not like Merle. Not at all. Merle didn’t really get too angry, for starters. He liked a challenge. He leapt at an opportunity to prove his dick was bigger than everybody else’s, eager and pugnacious, thick-skinned and apathetic with a smile on his face. When he withdrawaled, that rage — it was far different than his little brother’s. Merle hated the world and everybody in it, but accepted that long ago, and coped. He made sure he was happy, even at the expense of others. Not Daryl. No, he craved the love and acceptance of others, whether or not he even knew it. And he was fucking angry because, yeah, the world sucked. But Daryl wanted nothing more than to fix it, and have somebody just fucking thank him for it.

:(WHERES THE READMORE? WHY DIDNT IT WORK????):

Daryl is angry because he can’t help. He’s angry, because he thinks he should be better. Stronger. More resourceful. Smarter.

He’s angry because he failed you once, and he will never, ever fucking let that happen again.

He didn’t need to prove to you he wasn’t his brother. Not back then, and not now. Not as Merle’s voice echoed through the courtyard as he greeted your friends after so much time apart. Happy to see them, ironically only, though: he fucking won, after all. He survived — thrived, really — after they’d abandoned him to die, and now he was back, and he got his baby brother back, too. What more could he need to prove that he was doing just fine in this world?

“Where are you gonna go?” You asked Daryl, voice soft and level, already striving to prevent him from erupting and flipping what could very well be your last moments with him into a spitfire argument with nothing but heated exchanges and horrible names spat. “To Woodbury? You won’t… you’ll hate it there, Daryl.”

But, like he always did when he was trying to keep himself held together at the fraying seams, he chewed on his thumbnail anxiously, and merely shrugged.

“I dunno.”

“So you’re just going to give up this — this home we’ve built for ourselves?” You asked him incredulously. “The safety and security we finally have?”

“This place ain’t safe,” he argued, words sharp, as if that was the issue at hand.

“It’s got four walls, a roof, and a barbed wire fence,” you replied calmly. “It’s safer than just living out there. You know that — we did that.”

“ ‘m sure Merle has a plan.”

“And if he doesn’t?” You chanced a step closer to him and didn’t miss the way he stopped his incessant pacing, freezing in his tracks, and glancing over at you out of his peripheral, watching, waiting for your next move. You felt like you were encroaching a wild animal, waiting to step on a twig and scare him off.

“We’ll figure it out, then.”

“He’s going to get you killed.”

Maybe you two had gotten along from the start because it’s true when they say opposites attract — you were always level-headed and calm. You had to be, in the world before this, it was your livelihood. And who would have thought it would have helped you at all in this lifetime? But Daryl went from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye, and all it took was the tiniest shove closer to the cliffs edge before he would leap off furiously to save himself from the hurt of having been pushed by somebody else. It needed to be on his terms, and no one else’s.

“That ain’t your fuckin’ problem!” He rounded on you threateningly, but you didn’t flinch. “Merle’s my brother, alright? He’s blood. That’s all we fuckin’ got left anymore. It counts for somethin, don’t it?”

You shrugged, bones tired and sore, shoving down the familiar feeling of pressure building up behind your eyes and spill out over your cheeks. You might as well have cried gasoline, the way tears did nothing but fuel Daryl’s fire once it started it’s raging path.

“I don’t know if it does, Daryl.” You were tired. Yeah, you got it. You were an only child, you would have loved a sibling. But at what cost? You envied Beth and Maggie and their relationship; you loved them both separately and you loved them both together. You never once felt anything but disgust toward Merle Dixon. “At what point does it stop mattering whether or not he’s blood, if all he does is torture you and treat you like shit? You’re loved here, D — doesn’t that count for something?”

“We can’t stay here,” he told you firmly. “Ain’t nobody here want his ass around.”

“Doesn’t that say anything to you?” Your voice was rising, but not with emotion, not yet. Shock. You knew he was stubborn, but holy fuck. “That your family here doesn’t trust him?”

“Y’all ain’t my family.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. Not after all we’ve been through.” You took another step toward him and kept your words rolling, not giving him a chance to get an argument in edgewise. “It doesn’t matter that we’re not blood. We want you here. We need you here.”

“I ain’t leaving Merle again,” Daryl had leveled himself back out slightly, and he wasn’t racing and throwing hands and cursing, but he was worked up, and a year ago, Daryl Dixon would never had worked this hard to keep his emotions in check so he didn’t blow up on somebody he cared for. “You don’t understand. You ain’t listenin’.”

“I am listening — “

“No, you ain’t! I’m leaving’ with him so he — so he fuckin’ — fucks off, and don’t bother anyone here no more!”

You didn’t say anything back this time, and watched as Daryl turned back away from you, running his hands down his face in exasperation.

“If he walks away now, there ain’t any tellin’ what he’ll do. We know now — we know he has a whole god damn city behind him. They’re dangerous. He’s dangerous, and I’m not gonna sit by and let him hurt ya again!”

Oh.

You shook your head now, control of the situation slipping through your fingers. “There has to be another way, Daryl. There has to be a way to make sure Merle doesn’t target us anymore!”

“There is a way,” he spat, spinning back toward you and finally, he forced himself to make eye contact with you. It was impeccable timing, as tears welled up in your eyes with the realization that you were not going to win this song and dance with him. “And it’s him leavin’! And I gotta go with him to make sure he don’t ever come back again. I’m doin’ this for you!”

“This isn’t about what I want!”

“No, it’s about what ya need, and what ya need is to fucking be safe. And that won’t happen with Merle around. Alright? Now fuckin’ drop it. It’s done with.” And in classic Daryl fashion, he turned on his heels and made to storm off, but your heart ached violently with the need to go after him.

“Daryl, please,” you called after him. “Please, don’t leave.”

And your chest fluttered because he did stop walking when you’d said that, so you halted, too. And you waited for him to turn around and cave. But all he did was mutter an apology over his shoulder, and continued walking away. From you.

Well, you’d be fucking damned if you would like Merle take Daryl away from you. And reasoning didn’t work — but you had other ideas. Because now, all bets were off.

Because now, you were fucking angry.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #twd daryl #twd fanfiction

[wilhelmjfink]

IVE BEEN HERE AND STILL HERE FOR YOU💓

FIRST OF ALL HOW HAVE YOU BEEEN!?!? I hope life is not rough and is going great for you. Life’s been a bit tough for me nowadays, and I know a way to make it better:

can I request one with Daryl showing the pure side of him regardless his tough vibe🤩

welcome back 💖

OMFG HIIIII I LOVE YOU FOR BEING A DAY 1 PLAYER ❤️❤️❤️

Life has been W H A C K since Ive been on here last but lately I’ve been re-reading my old stuff and realize how much I miss my Daryl and Negan 🤤 I fell into a pit of Our Flag Means Death despair and have been writing nonstop abt Izzy. Just for myself. Lmao

I will get this done today or tomorrow and tag you!!! And I will work extra hard and hope it helps make life a little bit better for you!!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[wilhelmjfink]

hi everyone! Here is my annual post where I give you excuses as to why I’ve been AFK for like 1.5 years and promise to continue writing and requests if anyone wants anything but nobody ever wants anything so I just kind of sit here for a few days and re read all of my old stuff and realize I am the most unreliable narrator :-)

#the walking dead #daryl dixon

[wilhelmjfink]

@crossbowking still ur no. 1 fan

Crossbowking Update!

WELL, HELLO TO THOSE WHO’VE FOUND THIS!

I was the originally blog owner of @crossbowking and boy, oh, boy, what a week it’s been. My account was randomly terminated last week and I still have no idea why - I’ve reached out to tumblr support a few times but unfortunately, I’m still waiting to hear back. 

It’s been a really tough week - I’ve put so much time and effort, my whole heart and soul, into that blog and am pretty devastated that it’s been removed. I don’t even care about the notes/followers I’d gained over the last 3 years - it’s the beautiful comments and asks and messages I’d received that I’m really upset about losing.

I haven’t fully given up hope that tumblr may restore my blog - I’m going to reach out one more time this week and if I still don’t hear anything, I might ask for any of you lovely human beings to email them on my behalf. I’m thinking maybe my email or IP address has been blocked possibly? I’m not sure. I’m just hoping this gets resolved sooner rather than later - or I receive any sort of answer so I know whether or not to move forward.

Anywho, I really fucking missed you guys. And I made this little backup blog in case y’all want updates or someway to stay in contact for the time being! My asks and messages are always open for you lovebugs.

(SIDE NOTE: Special shoutout to @ladylibby, @wilhelmjfink, and @jodiereedus22 for speaking up on my behalf when my blog first got terminated and for everyone who checked in on me!)

I love y’all so much. I missed my virtual fam more than you know!

xx Jess

[wilhelmjfink]

I currently have 300+ screen recordings of my favorite MBMBAM bits and Monster Factory clips.

They serve no purpose. I just collect them because they make me laugh.

Would Tumblr be interested in me posting them. Yay or nay.

[wilhelmjfink]

Daryl, desperately trying to flirt : What's your favorite color of the alphabet? True or false?

Y/N : …What?

[wilhelmjfink]

JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN as Negan The Walking Dead: Season 11, Episode 22 - Faith

[wilhelmjfink]

JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN as NEGAN THE WALKING DEAD 10.22 “Here’s Negan”

[wilhelmjfink]

Deleted scene of Stede after he set a ship full of French people on fire bc they hurt Ed’s feelings

[wilhelmjfink]

Tag Yourself: Fanfiction Authors Edition

#monster #:/

[wilhelmjfink]

Bro???

type “i am” in the tags and whatever comes up first is your new mandatory kin

[wilhelmjfink]

My boyfriend, the nationwide Jack Sparrow impersonator and local pirate captain seamster, standing proud and admiring the Blackbeard costume he made me for this years Halloween cruise. He is going as Stede. Stay tuned.

[wilhelmjfink]

GAMING STREAMER POLL

HI ALLLL so with the encouragement from a couple of my streaming friends and family I’ve decided to start streaming myself playing video games. Just for funsies. Maybe because my ex partner used to get SO mad at me for talking to my video games but everyone in my life now says I’m funny! And it’s a good outlet. I guess. I know the internet doesn’t need another streamer but. I need new friends

Anyway, for those who watch streamers, what’s your fav genre of game to watch? Horror, action? Puzzle? Fantasy? RP? Comment if you would and feel free to add any additional things you enjoy watching streamers do etc. I would so appreciate it.

Thnx :,) just gonna tag w my fav games

[wilhelmjfink]

Apparently I’ve already posted this. Sorry everyone. I fuckin tried.

Tough Luck

*Stede bonnet voice* hi all! I’ve had a broken hand and been in a brace for months. They wanna do surgery but I refuse. So I just haven’t written anything. Ever. So uh. Sorry. But thanks to everyone who’s been lurking and liking my old stuff :,) literally gets me up in the morning

This was in my drafts. Could be years old. Who knows? Starting our favorite asshole, Negan. I think it was a drabble request. I have no idea where I am even at right now. Plz enjoy.

—

Boy, he’d been pissed.

Vaguely, like a fever dream, is the image of Negan stepping into your line of sight when Simon had swung open the van doors to start loading up whatever Alexandria had given you guys for the week. Or rather, whatever you’d stolen from them for the week, if you’re splitting hairs…

But you’d held your finger up to your lips — not quick enough — the second that Simon cocked his head and blurted out your name curiously, you could easily see Negan’s ears perk up like a god damn bloodhound at the sound, and when he spun around, spotting you crouched in the back of the hauler… holy shit.

You’d only had time to argue briefly, hushed tones throwing harsh accusations and a litany of curse words from one particular side of the party, while Simon oversaw the rest of the crew as they collected the food and ammunition and supplies from the town of Alexandria.

And it was a cute little town. You really had no clue why he would never let you come along on these runs; why he’d deemed them so dangerous. It looked like something you’d seen in the cover of Homes and Gardens, honestly. You’d liked it at first. Well, maybe you still liked it — you couldn’t quite remember anything past Negan fuming at you for sneaking along on what you assumed should’ve been a simple run for him.

Because now, you’re in the back of that same hauler, headed away from the cute little town of Alexandria, for foggy some reason. Twice as fast as you’d headed there. Driving erratically, lying in the back of a van that was supposed to be stocked full of goods. Instead, in their spot, was Negan, crouched beside you with one hand steadying himself on the headset of the drivers seat, and the other (rudely) pushing down painfully onto your stomach as he barked orders that you might be positive were just more swear words, if you could understand him at all. Your head was swimming, and your ears rung.

A pothole jolted the vehicle and you bounced with it, unintentionally crying out in the stabbing pain it caused your abdomen, also getting Negan’s attention.

Wild eyes glanced down at you, then back toward the driver. “I said fuckin’ take it god damn easy!”

“Sorry, boss — I’m tryin’ to hurry!”

Trying to focus on the blur of colors passing by you in the back window didn’t help much to distract you from the pain. In fact, you were sure Negan was making it worse, and you weakly reached up a bloodied hand — you only stopped to gawk at it in confusion for just a moment — and push Negan’s arm away from you. He didn’t budge, but instead, used his free hand to lower yours back down to your side.

“Knock it off,” he told you, his voice gentler than it had been when he was addressing the driver. “Rag’s already fuckin’ soaked through.”

You winced. “Hurts.”

It was only when Negan’s darkened eyes found yours again that you noticed his change in expression: the softening of his features was when you realized he’d been furious, permanently scowling with brows furrowed. That was, until he looked at you and recognized the pain in your eyes, the tears that poured down your cheeks. A Negan that you couldn’t quite remember ever seeing before in your life — granted, you were having trouble remembering what had happened ten minutes ago, but still. New. Maybe comforting, if it wasn’t oddly worrisome.

“I know it hurts, doll,” he exhaled, gaze flickering to your stomach where his strong hand secured previously mentioned blood-soaked rag. It stained his fingers now, too, and it made you feel bad. You liked his hands. “We’re almost back, Carson’ll fix your sweet ass right up, okay? Just a bit longer.”

For some reason, your hands started to feel numb. And the tips of your toes, too. “Are you upset with me?”

Your question seemed to take Negan by surprise: “Am I — what? Am I upset…” The surprise faded quickly and was replaced with understanding. “Oh.”

“I just don’t like being left behind.”

With an exasperated sigh, Negan situated himself into more of a cross-legged position, adjusting his tall form as comfortably as he could in the cramped space of the van while also skillfully managing never to alleviate any pressure on your stomach. “Yeah. Yeah, Y/N, I’m pretty fuckin’ pissed off right now. But we’ll talk about it later. Just try and relax for now.”

“I just…” Words were hard to find and your mouth was dry. “I worry that you won’t come back,” your voice was straining slightly now and added some sort of emotion to your sentence. Or maybe it was the sudden rush of tears and sobs lodging in your throat at the memories of watching him leave on runs and nights laying awake wondering if he would ever come back to you or if he was dead in the woods somewhere.

He steadied himself against the back of the seat and stared at you intently, as if he was trying to get an exact read on you in that moment. Were you delirious, just talking out of your ass from blood loss? Were you trying to soften him up, knowing very well you’ll be in a lot of trouble if and when you heal up from this back at Sanctuary?

Or were you legitimately scared for Negan? Did you really stare up at the off-white popcorn ceilings when you should be sleeping, wondering if he was safe and alive? You weren’t sure why it was such a hard concept for him to grasp, at first, but then you remembered exactly who you were dealing with… maybe the blood loss was making you delirious.

Closely you watched him through half-hooded eyes as he swallowed thickly before finally responding. “Darling, I will always do everything in my power to come back to you, alright?”

You forced a pained smile up at him.

“But there’s a fuckin’ reason I don’t take you on out certain jobs. Exhibit A.” He nodded pointedly at your abdomen, as if you could’ve forgotten what he was talking about. “I don’t fucking trust these pricks. This group… they’re fucking stubborn. They are trying deliberately to break the rules and fight me. The egg head hand-god-damn-made one single fucking bullet for the one gun they had that they were gonna use to shoot me today. And look what fucking happened!”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” you rasped. If you could have shrugged, you would have. The vehicle slowed and you could hear the familiar creaking of iron gates opening as you pulled into Sanctuary. “One single bullet? Sounds kinda lucky to me.”

“Yeah, and no offense, sweetheart,” Negan started, shifting awkwardly but carefully as to not jostle you too much when the van doors swung open. Gently, knowing there was no way to move you without it hurting, he slid his clean arm under your upper back and the bloodstained one under your knees, lifting you slowly from the back of the cargo van. You hissed, stiffening, dropping any attempt at a front to seem tougher than you really were. “You aren’t exactly the luckiest fucking gal I’ve ever met. You have a tendency to run right the fuck into danger and get yourself hurt. So, you can’t blame me for wanting to keep you safe and sound here, short of wrapping your fine ass in bubble-wrap.”

“Danger has a tendency to run into me,” you corrected him, though you weren’t sure he even heard you until you saw him roll his eyes… maybe even with the ghost of a smile on his lips?

Or maybe the blood loss was making you delirious.

[wilhelmjfink]

Tough Luck

*Stede bonnet voice* hi all! I’ve had a broken hand and been in a brace for months. They wanna do surgery but I refuse. So I just haven’t written anything. Ever. So uh. Sorry. But thanks to everyone who’s been lurking and liking my old stuff :,) literally gets me up in the morning

This was in my drafts. Could be years old. Who knows? Starting our favorite asshole, Negan. I think it was a drabble request. I have no idea where I am even at right now. Plz enjoy.

—

Boy, he’d been pissed.

Vaguely, like a fever dream, is the image of Negan stepping into your line of sight when Simon had swung open the van doors to start loading up whatever Alexandria had given you guys for the week. Or rather, whatever you’d stolen from them for the week, if you’re splitting hairs…

But you’d held your finger up to your lips — not quick enough — the second that Simon cocked his head and blurted out your name curiously, you could easily see Negan’s ears perk up like a god damn bloodhound at the sound, and when he spun around, spotting you crouched in the back of the hauler… holy shit.

You’d only had time to argue briefly, hushed tones throwing harsh accusations and a litany of curse words from one particular side of the party, while Simon oversaw the rest of the crew as they collected the food and ammunition and supplies from the town of Alexandria.

And it was a cute little town. You really had no clue why he would never let you come along on these runs; why he’d deemed them so dangerous. It looked like something you’d seen in the cover of Homes and Gardens, honestly. You’d liked it at first. Well, maybe you still liked it — you couldn’t quite remember anything past Negan fuming at you for sneaking along on what you assumed should’ve been a simple run for him.

Because now, you’re in the back of that same hauler, headed away from the cute little town of Alexandria, for foggy some reason. Twice as fast as you’d headed there. Driving erratically, lying in the back of a van that was supposed to be stocked full of goods. Instead, in their spot, was Negan, crouched beside you with one hand steadying himself on the headset of the drivers seat, and the other (rudely) pushing down painfully onto your stomach as he barked orders that you might be positive were just more swear words, if you could understand him at all. Your head was swimming, and your ears rung.

A pothole jolted the vehicle and you bounced with it, unintentionally crying out in the stabbing pain it caused your abdomen, also getting Negan’s attention.

Wild eyes glanced down at you, then back toward the driver. “I said fuckin’ take it god damn easy!”

“Sorry, boss — I’m tryin’ to hurry!”

Trying to focus on the blur of colors passing by you in the back window didn’t help much to distract you from the pain. In fact, you were sure Negan was making it worse, and you weakly reached up a bloodied hand — you only stopped to gawk at it in confusion for just a moment — and push Negan’s arm away from you. He didn’t budge, but instead, used his free hand to lower yours back down to your side.

“Knock it off,” he told you, his voice gentler than it had been when he was addressing the driver. “Rag’s already fuckin’ soaked through.”

You winced. “Hurts.”

It was only when Negan’s darkened eyes found yours again that you noticed his change in expression: the softening of his features was when you realized he’d been furious, permanently scowling with brows furrowed. That was, until he looked at you and recognized the pain in your eyes, the tears that poured down your cheeks. A Negan that you couldn’t quite remember ever seeing before in your life — granted, you were having trouble remembering what had happened ten minutes ago, but still. New. Maybe comforting, if it wasn’t oddly worrisome.

“I know it hurts, doll,” he exhaled, gaze flickering to your stomach where his strong hand secured previously mentioned blood-soaked rag. It stained his fingers now, too, and it made you feel bad. You liked his hands. “We’re almost back, Carson’ll fix your sweet ass right up, okay? Just a bit longer.”

For some reason, your hands started to feel numb. And the tips of your toes, too. “Are you upset with me?”

Your question seemed to take Negan by surprise: “Am I — what? Am I upset…” The surprise faded quickly and was replaced with understanding. “Oh.”

“I just don’t like being left behind.”

With an exasperated sigh, Negan situated himself into more of a cross-legged position, adjusting his tall form as comfortably as he could in the cramped space of the van while also skillfully managing never to alleviate any pressure on your stomach. “Yeah. Yeah, Y/N, I’m pretty fuckin’ pissed off right now. But we’ll talk about it later. Just try and relax for now.”

“I just…” Words were hard to find and your mouth was dry. “I worry that you won’t come back,” your voice was straining slightly now and added some sort of emotion to your sentence. Or maybe it was the sudden rush of tears and sobs lodging in your throat at the memories of watching him leave on runs and nights laying awake wondering if he would ever come back to you or if he was dead in the woods somewhere.

He steadied himself against the back of the seat and stared at you intently, as if he was trying to get an exact read on you in that moment. Were you delirious, just talking out of your ass from blood loss? Were you trying to soften him up, knowing very well you’ll be in a lot of trouble if and when you heal up from this back at Sanctuary?

Or were you legitimately scared for Negan? Did you really stare up at the off-white popcorn ceilings when you should be sleeping, wondering if he was safe and alive? You weren’t sure why it was such a hard concept for him to grasp, at first, but then you remembered exactly who you were dealing with… maybe the blood loss was making you delirious.

Closely you watched him through half-hooded eyes as he swallowed thickly before finally responding. “Darling, I will always do everything in my power to come back to you, alright?”

You forced a pained smile up at him.

“But there’s a fuckin’ reason I don’t take you on out certain jobs. Exhibit A.” He nodded pointedly at your abdomen, as if you could’ve forgotten what he was talking about. “I don’t fucking trust these pricks. This group… they’re fucking stubborn. They are trying deliberately to break the rules and fight me. The egg head hand-god-damn-made one single fucking bullet for the one gun they had that they were gonna use to shoot me today. And look what fucking happened!”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” you rasped. If you could have shrugged, you would have. The vehicle slowed and you could hear the familiar creaking of iron gates opening as you pulled into Sanctuary. “One single bullet? Sounds kinda lucky to me.”

“Yeah, and no offense, sweetheart,” Negan started, shifting awkwardly but carefully as to not jostle you too much when the van doors swung open. Gently, knowing there was no way to move you without it hurting, he slid his clean arm under your upper back and the bloodstained one under your knees, lifting you slowly from the back of the cargo van. You hissed, stiffening, dropping any attempt at a front to seem tougher than you really were. “You aren’t exactly the luckiest fucking gal I’ve ever met. You have a tendency to run right the fuck into danger and get yourself hurt. So, you can’t blame me for wanting to keep you safe and sound here, short of wrapping your fine ass in bubble-wrap.”

“Danger has a tendency to run into me,” you corrected him, though you weren’t sure he even heard you until you saw him roll his eyes… maybe even with the ghost of a smile on his lips?

Or maybe the blood loss was making you delirious.

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #twd fanfiction #reader insert #negan #the walking dead negan #negan x reader #negan fanfiction #negan x you #negan x y/n #twd negan