hunting a savior | negan

one [found.]

A/N: Hey everybody! So, I've been working on this little fic of mines for a while and I am, finally, pleased with the way it's turning out. I've had this little headcannon in me for months, so to finally post it and share it with you guys is ahh, so amazing! This will be a multi-chapter fic, filled with angst, soft smut (because I suck at writing the hardcore stuff), and slow burning romance, because lustful romance is unrealistic. Get ready to see many different sides of Negan. I'll also be posting the links to the chapters on my tumblr too (negansmagic). If you've got a tumblr and want to be tagged there on the chapter posts, let me know. Other than that, I hope you guys enjoy the first chapter of Hunting A Savior! Leave a comment, vote, and tell your friends about this one. Thanks!
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"Give it to me! Now!"

Swinging her backpack around, she pulled it open and grabbed the can of beans. Her hands were sweaty, her bones were shaking, and her heart beat like a drum. She was on her knees, hands up, as she started to feel the wet dirt begin to seep through her jeans.

"I'm hungry-"

"You think we give a shit?" the man asked through his teeth. The tip of his shotgun pushed up against her temple and the woman standing in front of her chuckled. The woman yanked the can from the girl's hands and put it into her bag.

"We're all hungry, kid. It's been a long time since the factories have been over run and all the shops are already wiped clean."

"I know," she said, her jaw tight, "But that doesn't give you permission to be greedy bitch."

"Shut up," the man growled. He put the bullet of his gun in place, then it clicked. His gun glistened in the sun's rays that flooded through the treetops. If his finger moved just slightly, the girl's brains would be blown to bits.

The woman stood in silence, staring at her with a smirk. The girl stared at the ground, watching the woman circle her while swinging a bat around with a blood stained tip. The woman had defeated the roamers with that thing before, but whether she's hit breathing people with it, was a whole other question. Her black jeans and white tank top were stained with mud. Her long red hair was singed and tangled. She smelled like smoke from a fire, she had burn marks on her skin. The girl that was on her knees wondered what place these people had came from.

The man, dressed in a blue jacket and brown boots, smelled like smoke and must. He had a glare in his eye, that showed he wouldn't mind putting the girl down. He sweat like a pig and the girl below him was getting splashed with every drop. His knuckles were stained with blood. He stared into the scope of his weapon, getting a good aim at her head.

Their packs were empty and ripped up. Their shoes were worn out and the dark circles under their eyes showed they haven't had a good place to lay their heads for a while. The girl below them hadn't had a place to rest either, but she didn't care. She just wanted to be alive and stay alive. No matter what it took.

"Do I shoot her?" the man asked. The woman continued to walk around the girl. Th girl looked her up and down.

"Where'd you get the armor?" the woman asked. She stepped a little closer. "Did you make it yourself?"

"Yeah," the girl replied. The woman knelt to her level and looked into her eyes.

The girl's eyes were dark, they had seen too much. She wore a grey shirt, which was stained with blood and mud. A green jacket was wrapped around her hips and her backpack was thrown in front of her. There was a scar that ran across the girl's right cheekbone. It was jagged, made by something other than a knife.