Special Delivery (Enid x MReader)

Special Delivery

I have been working in Negan's service for almost a year now, and it's been a rough road but rewarding at the same time. At the sanctuary I have my own room, a warm bed, fresh food and all kinds of other creature comforts. After losing my family to the walkers, I was all on my own for a long time, probably a year or so. It was so long I had stopped counting. I couldn't forgive myself for how I couldn't save them and how haunting it was to see them torn apart in front of me.

A little backstory. One evening, about a year ago, I was out hunting for myself, of course because it was just me. Then I hear motorcycles approaching, and I turned my head in the direction of the sound. People? Actual human beings are out here? I thought to myself as I was wanting to see what they were about but at the same time afraid they might be dangerous.

Sure enough one of the men spotted me and approached me. He was a bit gruff looking, tall middle aged man with a beard. "What have you got, kid?" He asked, noticing my large backpack and string of dead squirrels hanging from my belt. "Negan could use it."

"Negan? Who's Negan?" I asked the man.

"Come with us, we'll take you to him." It sounded like an order and the man was pretty intimidating, and I really had nothing left to lose at this point so I just obeyed.

After about a half hour of riding on the back of a motorcycle, clinging on for dear life because I was terrified of falling off, we arrived at a large, fenced in community sort of place. "This is the Sanctuary," the man said.

"So where's this Negan guy who wanted my stuff?" I asked, bewildered at this whole situation.

"We are all Negan," all ten or so men said in unison.

"What? Is this some kind of..."

"Come on, boy, it's time for you to go in and meet the man." He grabbed me by the arm and led me inside.

He took me to a certain room, and knocked on the door. "Sir, there's someone here to see you."

A man opened the door. He was tall, about in his mid to late forties maybe. He wore a leather jacket and a red scarf and black pants. He was quite handsome for a man of his age, with his graying hair slicked back and a toothy grin spread on his face.

He was a little frightening looking and definitely looked like an authority figure here, probably the most upsetting thing is that he had a big baseball bat, with dried blood and barbed wire wrapped around the top half.

"Well... look at what the cat dragged in..." the man spoke in an attractive sounding southern accent, that toothy grin spread across his lips again. He leaned back a little with the baseball bat over his shoulder as he looked me over. I was so dirty and it was a little embarrassing. "What's your name, son?" He said as he looked me straight in the eyes. I got chills.

"Um... it's __________..." I stammered a little because I was so scared. Was it a good idea to go with those motorcycle guys?

"_____, eh?" He chuckled a little. "I'm Negan. And _______ is a cute name, but that's not your name anymore. You're gonna work for me, kid. And if you play by the rules, you will be rewarded. But if you don't... we'll make an example of you..."

I was frozen in fear at this moment. What could he mean by that.

"From this point forward you are Negan. All of my Saviours are Negan. So, kid, what's your name?"

"...N-negan," I tried to say as confidently as possible without pissing myself.

"Gooood boy!" He patted me somewhat hard on the shoulder. "I'm starting to take a liking to you, kid. And you are VERY lucky that I like you." His grin faded and he leaned in towards my face, and looked at me sternly. "Just don't fuck up." He patted me again and went back in his room.