Negan Imagine - Blog Posts

Real.

marriage is scary, what if i don’t end up marrying my celebrity crush who’s 30 years older than me??

if you do negan could you do any kind of thing about reader being his son and meeting up after not seeing eachother for the apocalypse

𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧~

genre: angst & fluff pairing: Negan x m!reader summary: It's been years since the reader has last heard of and seen his dad, Negan. That's until now. warning: cursing & mention of death

a/n: wrote this whole entire thing at 2AM... my sleep schedule is fucked up 😭 (not proofread)

Negan had left you and Mom back at home, as he had decided to find the necessary medical supplies to aid Mom’s health condition. But he was taking a while and so you decided to go out and look for him; leaving behind Mom who was sleeping soundlessly.

After aimlessly yet cautiously walking around town, you had found yourself lost. Everything was in ruins and just unrecognizable, which made matters worse. You didn’t know where to go or where to find Negan. It had been a full day and when you finally found your way back home, you came face-to-face with a terrifying scene.

Mom’s heart had stopped. And Mom was no longer Mom, but a corpse rotting on the bed you would often cuddle in with her.

You couldn’t hold back the tears that began to spill, the heartache burning inside you as you clutched at your chest. Dad was nowhere to be seen. So, you stayed there for a week, expecting Dad to show up, maybe even expecting that everything would be back to normal when you closed your eyes every night. Desperately wanting to wake up from this nightmare.

— — —

It had been years since the death of Mom and since you’ve seen Negan. You didn’t know what happened to Dad, but one thing was for sure. You hated him for leaving that day and not returning.

Surviving on your own wasn’t as hard as you thought. Sure, you had no company and were often bored of the silence, yet it was peaceful. You still miss Mom and Dad, but you learned to live on your own, to live for them.

Walking through a now abandoned neighborhood, you could feel the soft breeze of the chilly summer afternoon. You were searching for shelter, as you had been sleeping in a car for the past month before someone decided to ransack the vehicle, taking almost everything, you had inside.

Finally reaching a nice and somewhat clean-looking house, you decide to enter it. Ready in case a Walker lunges at you. You open the door wide enough, holstering your machete as your eyes scan the inside.

After a while of making sure the home was clear of Walkers, you shut the door and let yourself fall on the couch, a sigh leaving your lips.

Your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you haven’t eaten in days. With a soft groan, you get off the couch and walk into the kitchen. It was small, yet colorful. You open the cabinets and cupboards only two find a few canned foods.

Turning the 4 cans, you read the front of them: Canned Corn, Canned Peaches, Tomato Soup, and Baked Beans. It wasn’t something appetizing, but it would do the job. A spoonful of corn is shoved into your mouth, helping to get rid of the hunger you’re feeling. The can was almost empty, and your boredom was beginning to get to you.

But before you can even think of what to do, the sound of footsteps can be heard right outside the front door.

Fuck, why this house out of all?

You thought to yourself before quickly shoving the other canned food into your backpack and getting your machete readying in a strong grip. Your eyes dart around the kitchen, trying to find the perfect hiding spot. The pantry or under the table.

The door opens and you can hear what sounds like three men talking, steps getting closer, and just before they reach the kitchen, you duck under the table.

Pressing your back against the wall, you bite your tongue to keep quiet and ready for anything. Your eyes follow the shoes as they walk past the table. The noise of cabinets flying open, and dishes being moved around with the sound of two men talking filled the small kitchen before it slowly faded away.

You discreetly watch from under the table, following the men walk out of the kitchen with your eyes, The floorboards and staircase creak as they walk up to the second level of the home. This was your only chance to get out and so you took it.

Sneaking out from under the table you fix your backpack before quietly running out of the kitchen into the living room, almost out the front door before you’re stopped halfway.

“Oh, not so fast young man.” A teasing voice calls after you, having caught you trying to run out of the house. A voice you recognized so well.

You grit your teeth, cursing under your breath, “Shit.” You weren’t expecting anyone to be in the living room.

Slow heavy steps walk to behind you, your back facing this stranger.

“If I were you, I would drop that.” He’s talking about your machete. You feel your eyes sting and your heart begins to beat with anxiety. Something you haven’t felt in so long.

You slowly turn around with hands raised, weapon still in your possession. Your eyes land on his face.

He looked the same but, still different. Something about him had changed and you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

“Dad?” Your voice wavers, holding yourself together.

Negan’s smirk falls off his face when he stares at you, eyes scanning your face. His eyes search yours, trying to read you. Wondering if he was dreaming again.

“Son?” He lowers his bat, face softening when it fully settles in him. He had found you, after years of searching. You were there, standing just a couple of feet away from him. All this time he thought his only son was gone forever, never to be found.

Even though you had so much anger bottled up inside you, you still couldn't hold back the joy and relief you felt when seeing your dad. Without hesitation, you drop your weapon and run toward him, embracing him in a tight and much-needed hug.

“Every day, I thought about you,” Negan tightens the hug, the sensation of feeling the love and relief from him made you at ease. He lets out a chuckle, pulling you back to grab the sides of your shoulders, looking you up and down.

He smiles down at you, eyes teary as he sniffles. “You've grown into a hell of a survivor, kid. I'm proud of you.” He grabs your face before ruffling your hair, earning a slight groan from you.

“I learned from the best.” You tell him, a sad smile on your lips. Negan seems to take notice of it as he pats your shoulder. “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you like I promised.”

His words make your heartache.

“It’s all in the past now… I’m just glad to have found you, Dad.” You remind him, blinking back tears before he pulls you back into a hug. This time, something different filled the room.

Peace.