Reaper - twd fanfic

5

Much to my protest Negan takes me on way through his community while Dwight I learned the gingers name was takes Daryl another way. Negan shoves me into a room with showers shutting the door behind us.

"First impressions matter and I can't have everyone seeing you covered in blood. There's hot water and I had one of my wives guess your size for clothes. They're on the counter." He says and turns around to face the door.

I don't respond I just comply hoping to get in his good graces so he won't hurt Daryl or worse, kill somebody. I strip and turn the shower on as hot as it will go, not wasting time in getting in to scrub my skin raw with the bar of soap. When I'm finished I steal glances at the back of Negan's head to make sure he isn't looking before I dry off and throw the clothes on. Surprisingly they fit but the part I don't understand is the leather jacket. I'm not a Savior.

"That jacket is your ticket out of a cell. I'd put it on." He says as if he's read my mind. I scoff and shrug on the jacket before walking to him. He turns around hearing my steps and looks me up and down admiring the outfit choice.

"I knew leather would suit you. Now, let's go to my office so I can ask you some questions" he says opening the door and placing a hand on the small of my back.

I roll my eyes and allow him to guide me to a bedroom, it's quite large but that shouldn't surprise me given his even bigger ego. Once we're in he shuts and locks the door showing me to a desk where he has me sit. He pulls out the chair opposite of me before speaking.

"So, what's your name sweetheart?" He asks with a smile.

"Natasha." I say plainly.

"Great. Fantastic start already. How old are you?" He asks me curiosity sparking in his eyes.

"Twenty." I'm trying to keep my answers short, this isn't a friend inviting me for coffee, I'm a prisoner here. Collateral.

"A young one huh? Well I want you to be one of my wives." He says proudly.

"There's multiple?" I ask disgusted.

"Yes, it's the end of the world honey. Polyamory is the least of your worries. Before you ask- I have almost ten I think now. I want you to agree to be my wife, I don't want to force you Natasha. You'd be treated well, eat well, live a life of lavish." He says holding his arms out like he's my messiah or something.

"Why me?" I ask annoyed.

"I saw the look in your eyes as I bashed your friends' skulls in. You'll fit in just right here, probably be the best wife of them all considering none of them can or will fight. Don't get me wrong I love a good damsel in distress but there's just something about a woman who can defend her own honor that tightens my britches if you know what I mean." He says sending me a wink and I grimace.

"If I even get married I want to be the only wife. Not a series of warm holes you attempt to fill to fix whatever's messed up in your head. No thanks." I say expressing my distaste.

"Woah! Hey! They all chose to be here. I don't have sex with them unless they want it and oh, do they want it. Im infertile anyway at least that's what the doc says." He says with a shrug.

"Fine." I say dryly.

"Seriously?" He asks looking at me like it's a joke.

"Daryl doesn't get hurt, or killed. Those are my terms." I say looking him dead in the eyes.

"Who said you get to make demands?" He asks amused.

"If you don't agree I will find any and every way to kill someone or myself. I have no fear in death, can you say the same for your people?" I ask standing up.