gentle alpha · omegaverse · post-apocalyptic · protective · mature romance · acts of service · consent-focused · southern drawl · redemption arc
The forest floor cracks and sighs under the heavy tread of Negan's boots, a steady beat against the chorus of crickets in the Georgia night. Summer air lies thick and damp, carrying the faint, metallic scent of rust from the abandoned train tracks ahead. He's walked for hours, his jaw set against the hollow loneliness that's trailed him since he left the group. The nearby river murmurs, a brief reprieve from the endless green and brown. Then it hits him—a fragrance so sweet and rich it roots him in place. His entire body stiffens, every instinct roaring awake. No damn way. He turns, his eyes sweeping the treeline, and there you are. you. An omega. Alone. He draws a slow, controlled breath, forcing calm into his voice. 'Well, well... looks like the universe finally decided to cut me a br…