#negan slow burn
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What’s Wrong But Feels Right - Part 1
Negan x Reader (Male)
Summary - One of the worst days of y/n’s life turns into meeting the man he would fall for despite his intent to.
Warnings - Swearing, Smoking, Alcohol, Blood, Detailed Gore, Detailed Smut…
A/N - So this is my first story 😅 I’ve written small things before but I’ve never committed to a fanfic let alone posted one. Likes and comments would definitely be appreciated, and if you have any suggestions for short one shots (any character) that you’d like please let me know (especially if you’d like smut in it or not). I don’t know how many parts this is gonna have, and i’ll try to post once a week or more.
Also a shout out to @justsomegdude for helping me through hell with this story. He’s a great writer and you should definitely go check out his fics!
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The tears slowly ran down y/n’s face, almost feeling frozen in time from the cold air. Every breath he took made his body shudder, even though they were short and shaky. From his peripheral vision, he could map out a picture of the dead man beside him, Abraham. He hadn’t gotten himself to look over yet. How could he? All memories he once had with his dear friend were wiped away in the blink of an eye, or more with the swing of a bat.
After Abraham, it was Glenn, someone else whom he’d loved like a brother during the 2 years they’d known each other in this god awful world. Each time the bat got swung onto Glenn, y/n’s body flinched, his heart feeling like it was getting crushed more and more with every hit. You’d of thought that the sobs and cries coming from Maggie would’ve made any of the Saviors around them feel the slightest bit of guilt in their hearts, but none of them batted an eye.
No one on their knees were safe, and for all y/n knew, he could’ve been next. But, did he really care at this point? If the people he loved the most were going to continue to get killed in front of him, why would he want to make it out?…Maybe for the revenge of it all, because y/n could slowly feel that emotion creep up on him despite the sobs that poured from his body. The hatred he felt was growing, and he felt that he would soon run out of tears to even want to feel sad.
Negan, the man who’d been running this “show”, grabbed Rick by his jacket, dragging him on the ground to the RV for a drive. All that could be heard now was the breathing forced through the sobs of each individual. The wait for Negan to return felt like an eternity, yet no one wanted him to come back.
Y/n’s eyes were hurting, burning in a way from the amount of time he spent crying over his dead friends. He looked over to Maggie on his left, seeing the pain in her eyes, the color drained from her face, and it only made everything hurt more. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t tried to comfort her in any sort of way. Her husband just got beaten to death in front of her, all while he was being mocked. But he was frozen, just like everyone else, not being able to fathom how someone could do this and joke about it……y/n was still sitting up, but was more slouched, his hands digging into the gravel below him, holding him up. There were so many thoughts running through his mind, and not a single one would settle.
The RV slowly rolled into it’s place from before, the gravel crunching underneath it. The door swung open, Rick being thrown through it, onto the ground. He got pulled and dragged just mere feet in front of everyone else, getting absolutely humiliated.
(Time skip to after “that” situation)
Rick was thrown back into line, Carl’s arm still intact thankfully. Negan was rambling while walking back and forth. It felt like he was looking for something, someone, like he wasn’t done yet, and that fueled the fear again. Losing someone else was something they didn’t know they could bare. Y/n kept his eyes on Negan, following his every move. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to do considering Negan took note of this, especially the way y/n was looking at him. The look of pure hatred in his eyes. Negan just did all of what he did to Rick because of the way he was looking at him, and now y/n was looking at him the same way, maybe worse.
Negan turned his attention to the boy, his tone full of annoyance, yet a smile stayed on his face. “Look at you!” He walked closer, his bat swinging in his hand, awfully too close to y/n. “Did you not learn a thing from Rick and what he almost had to do?”
Y/n didn’t respond. Even if he wanted to, what the hell was he going to say? One wrong word and, well maybe there goes his life, or someone else’s. “Nothing to say, huh?….Ballsy.” That’s really all Negan had to say? “Simon, Kenny load him up,” and the two men started to walk towards y/n. Fear struck y/n’s body instantly with those words, knowing there was no way he could resist. He was grabbed forcefully, getting thrown into the back of the truck.
Not too long after, the truck jerked forward. Y/n hadn’t heard any more screams, cries, the beating of the bat since he’d gotten thrown into this thing, and he hoped the remaining people were spared…..Y/n’s mind was blank, all of the thoughts running through his mind before were gone. What was he supposed to think about what just happened?
After what felt like a long time, the vehicle came to a stop, the sound of car doors opening and slamming shut all around. The doors to the truck swung open, three men pulling y/n out, barely giving him time to land on his feet before dragging him inside. The inside of the building was filled with saviors. Y/n realizing how outnumbered they really were was almost laughable.
He got taken to a cell, the door slamming shut, locked. It was pitch black besides the little light coming through the crack at the bottom of the door. The walls, the floor were ice cold. Y/n slowly slid down the wall with his back, sitting down.
He hadn’t gotten sleep for obvious reasons, and although he was exhausted, he couldn’t rest. Every time he’d close his eyes, the image of his friends dead on the ground, blood trickling down their deformed heads took over. He groaned, rubbing his head with his hands.
Jingle * Click
The door creaked open, y/n squinting his eyes a little from the unexpected light. There stood a man in the doorframe, holding a far too familiar object. It was Negan.
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The Son of A Monster
This is a Slow burn
Carl grimes x Male!Reader
Warnings; Death, blood, Slow-burn Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie apocalypse
You looked at the window of the truck, your hair somewhat in your face. Your father laughed beside you as you drove to Alexandria. You sighed, looking at 1975. Beretta Model 92 M92 and the G36 rifle sitting in your lap. You huffed and shifted. You were there when your father killed those people. Three days ago, even though he said a week. The night when you could see the fear in their eyes, not only to Simon and your father, but to you. Except for one, the kid, bout your age. Fearless.
They were scary, but your father was terrifying to the bone. He had little love in his cold heart since… the day your mother killed herself. You didn’t blame her though.
You snatched the hat out of his hand. “Hey, kid.” He said, looking at you. “Give it back.”
The truck stopped and you got out, holding the M93 on your side and the G36 in two hands. He made his little speech, talking to a man at the gate who didn’t know the great Negan. “That mans gonna get himself killed,” you mumbled. You took out a cigarette and lit it, waiting to be let in. Rick finally opened the gate, and you followed your father in. “Alright everybody, let's get started,” He said, walking in more and looking around He started talking about service shit as he hand rick his bat. You stood away.
He let the people run around and take things out of the houses. You looked around. That boy, Rick’s kid, stood outside one of the houses and then went in when the people scattered, You then look over behind you where Dwight was pestering Rosita. “Asshole.” You muttered walking over to his snarky ass. You didn’t like him one bit, he always acted like he was above you and like he was rockin’ gold.
“Just because you got your pretty wife taken from dad, doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole to every woman you see.” You said, dropping the cigarette in his hand and giving the hat back, “Go where ever your going, or don’t, I don’t give a flying shit.”
You walked away. Still, though, Dwight kept talking. You looked around as you walked and went to the infirmary, at least that's what it looked like when you walked in. Carl, that's the kid’s name, had a gun pointed at the men. You watched, smiled, then waited. He was telling them to put it back or take half. The gun went off, leaving a slight tingle in your ears. You tapped his shoulder.
“Hey pal, let's put that down yeah?” You said, looking into his eyes. He didn’t. You grabbed his arm. “Put it down. Now.” He ignored you. “Fine.”
“Fuck!” He yelled when you rustled him to the ground, the gun going off once more. He wrapped his legs around you, trying to get you off as you pushed the gun away. “Get Off!” He said, punching you.
“Carl!” Rick yelled as he came in, Your dad also entered with the same old grin on his face. He punched you again kicking you off.
“Fuck!” You yelled, jumping on his again. “Calm. The fuck. Down!” You yelled, slamming his head down onto the floor. “I'm making sure your getting who's in charge asshole, calm down.” You spit, holding his hands down. You got a clear view of his face, hair a mess from the fighting, and hat barely on, “You good? Great, have fun with a nice scolding huh.” You got off him and picked up your rifle and the cowboy hat you kept on your head. Your dad clapped.
“Well, shit.” He said looking at carl. “You’ve on huge balls doing that stunt.” He looked down then over to you. “And you did a number on my kid and he barely scratched you!” Both Rick and Carl looked over to you and then back at Negan.
“He didn’t-”
“Don’t be rude Rick!” Your father said, looking to rick, “I'm having a conversation!” He then continued to scold/compliment carl. Then taking the guns away You sat outside watching them pile out of the room.
You watched carl walk out pissed and leave. You wondered if you should follow him but decided against it. Your father came out, looked at you, and smirk. “You did a fantastic job kid.” He said, ruffling your hair. You glared at him. “And I need you to do one more.” He bent down, holding that stupid bat on his shoulder. “I need you to stay here.” He is sad, making you look up in shock.
“What?!” You yelled. “No, I can’t I'm your kid, nobody’s going to like me, or even talk to me.” You yelled.
“Hey! Do not yell at me.” He said his smile dropping. “I need you to watch over carl. That’s it. Plus he’s your age, you need to make friends, kid.” He kissed your head before leaving
“Make friends my ass.” You sighed before following after him as he took the guns out of the army. Arat came out yanking Olivia with her. “Arat, we don’t do that.” He said, pointing at her and then at Olivia. “Unless they do something to deserve it.”
“Yeah, we went through the inventory. Gun in the army, guns around the walls. Their short.” She said, shrugging slightly. “Glock 9 and a 22 bobcat.” She said, handing the book over. You looked over to rick, a confused yet scared look on his face. Your father giving him a side look.
“Is that true?” He asked as Olivia nodded. Rick started speaking. “We had some people leave town, those guns probably went with them-” “So Olivia sucks at her job… Is that what you're saying.” Negan said, pointing to the book. You looked over, Olivia was frightened. “Is that what you're saying?”
“Dad-” You said only to get ignored.
“No that's not what I’m saying-”
“There should be a full accounting here. Right?” he paused. “Top to bottom?” Your dad licked his lips, then looked at Olivia. “Right?”
“No… I mean yes. The inventory is correct.” She said looking at the book and back at your father.
“Good, but not so good too,” You tried to speak up but your father hit your shoulder and proceeded to walk closer to Olivia. “You see what's in here, isn’t in there. Your two handguns short… Do you know where they are?” He asked.
Olivia shook her head. “No, I-.” Your father sighed and looked up at Olivia. “That's disappointing, I thought that we had an understanding. But this, well this shows that someone is not on board,” He smiled, shaking his head and looking at Rick. “- And I can't have that.” He turned, closer to Olivia's face, and smiled. “I don’t enjoy killing women. Men, I can waste them all the live long” You huffed and glared at your father. “But at the end of the day Olivia, my dear.” He paused. “This was your responsibility-”
Rick interrupted your dad again. “Look, we can work this out” “Oh! Yes, we can!” Your father said in a louder tone, turning to Rick. His face got serious. “And I'm going too, right now.” Olivia started to whimper. ”This was your job, and you screwed up.” He paused, tilting his head once more. “Keeping track of guns?...” He got closer to her face, with a stone-cold look. “That shit Is life and death.-” She slowly smiled.
That's how you got here now. Your dad's arm wrapped around the chair where Olivia sat. You felt bad. But he was right, it was her job. He was talking about some stupid shit as Oliva sat there shaking. “Hey, if they can’t find those guns, maybe I’ll let little me Kill ya for once, with old good Lucille.” He said, turning the bat a bit and putting it in her face. “And my kid loves a little Baseball.”
“Dad, scaring her isn’t helping. Though It’s not a threat.” You muttered the last part.
“C’mon, boy. Show her your form.” He said, pointing at the can. He handed you the bat and you stood. You used to play, even better when your dad was a coach. You got in almost perfect form, lifted your leg, and hit the can, watching it fly in the air. “Damn! That was nice.” He laughed. You swung the bat around, practicing hitting. Your father watched you with a smile. His smile dropped.
“Give them Y/n.” He said. You paused, looking down at your pockets. “Now.” he said. You huffed and took the box of cigarettes out of your pocket, throwing them at him. “We’ll talk later.”
Rolling your eyes, you give the bat back and wait beside him, looking at your gun. “Can I see the book?” you asked, looking at the blue journal. He looked at you funny but handed it to you anyway. You looked through it, looking for some hand weapons. You smiled and gave the book back as Arat came out saying Rick found the guns.
You head to the weapons locker and go threw the bats, blades, and swords. Your father talking to rick.
“For wasting my time, I'm going to leave you with the job of taking my son in. I think he’ll learn a few things here.” Negan said, patting his chest at the gate. “Grab the deer.” He said, waving. “And rick, if my kid gets hurt. I'll let him bash the person's head off.” He said, getting in the truck while whistling. You walked over, waving as they left and the gates closed.
You held a metal bat with a rolling blade at the top in your hand, smiling as you turned around. “Hello, I’m Y/n.”
(People who read this before, if you saw the name Sam, it changed it to that :( Sorry.)
Chapter 2
#twd#twd x reader#twd x you#the walking dead#the walking dead characters#story line#slow burn#Negans son#Negan#Dad!negan#rick grimes#Carl grimes#Carl grimes x male reader#male#male reader#male yandere#male y/n#rosita espinosa#eugene porter#the saviors
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☆ Hate to Love Her - Negan's Daughter
Part one ! [ enemies to lovers - Maggie Green]
Maggie Green x Savior!reader [VERY slow burn]
“You have been pissy all day. What the hell is wrong with you?” You normally never give your dad attitude, mostly just the saviors, but today he was getting on your last nerve. Something was obviously wrong, and he isn’t telling you jack - shit. Seems like five minutes have passed, and he still hasn’t said anything, and honestly, you're losing what's left of your mind. “Damnit dad please! Just tell me what's going on.” You mess with the silver rings you stole from some biker you came across and drop your head. You hear him let out a defeated sigh before grabbing your shoulder, “Damnit kid, fine, follow me. We got some deep shit on our hands.” You smile and hug him tight. “Thank you, dad, thank you.” You pull away quickly and look him in the eyes “Stop calling me kid though, i’m twenty-one” He laughs and ruffles your hair “Yeah, but you'll always be my little princess” “Dad seriously!” The happy, fun tone faded every step you got closer to his room. You're never really anxious. You can’t be in an apocalypse, but right now, your skin is crawling. You step into the room, and he immediately sits you down on the couch and pulls a wheelie office chair from his desk, and sits in front of you.
“So….” He utters out, a heavy deep tone in his voice. “ Some punks have.. Taken out about four of our outposts.” Your heart drops to your stomach, and the look of pure horror on your face shows it. “No.. That can’t be true, Our outposts are heavily guarded, How did this happen!?” He sighs deeply and leans forward, “They attacked most of them at night, I’m assuming they have been sending out large groups at a time.” You throw your body back onto the couch and slap your hands over your face and run them through your hair. “Well christ.” You pick yourself back up and move yourself into a more focused position, “We need to find these sons - of bitches and shut their asses down!” You rub your face in pure rage “ I mean, they can’t keep getting away with this shit! The saviors in the outpost were supposed to feel safe and now what? Over five hundred hell, even six hundred are dead!” You stand up and grab your chainsaw that you may or may not have forced the saviors to modify for you so it's not loud as shit. That damn chainsaw is your everything, in your eyes your dad has his bat ‘Luciel’ so that means you can have your chain saw.
“Slow down, you bloodthirsty demon, I already have a plan developed, so sit back and wait. We’ll take care of it together. But right now, I need you to sit down and let me finish speaking and put that thing down. It's in my room for a reason. You grab it when you need it.” You roll your head back and groan “whateverrrrrrrrrrr” Slouchy hanging your chainsaw back up and plopping down all grumpy like a little toddler. “So,” you adjust your leather jacket slightly “What's your super awesome plan that doesn't involve my super awesome chainsaw.” “Well I’m just thrilled you asked.” . . .
Dear Diary,
We FINALLY found the cunt’s who killed my people, this isn't the ending. This is only the beginning of their karma, be ready bitches.
Dearest Diary,
Sorry for the delay, but these past few weeks have been PERFECT. Everything is in place. We have them right where we want them. You fucked with the wrong bitches “Rick” Hope you don’t like your little friends too much, we’re gonna put your ass DOWN. xoxo < 3 .
“You ready, princess?” “Ready as I'll ever be daddy. ” “Alright step out there and show them just who they are fuckin’ with. I’ll be out as soon as you call for me.”
Finally, the moment you’ve been waiting for. The moment you get payback on the sons of bitches that killed your people. You knew they couldn’t escape your cold merciless hands, it was all a matter of time. Time was moving in slow motion, opening the door to the trailer, seeing all those fucking murders down on their kness, its like a sick twisted fantasy. Walking down the few steps, chainsaw in hand, the most shit-eating grin sneaking onto your face seeing their pathetic faces drop. The silence is strong and loud, “pissin’ our pants yet? ‘Cuz I'm telling you now I have a feeling you're gonna be doing a lot more than that.” dragging your chainsaw on the ground as you walk closer and closer. “Now, Who the fuck is the Rick,” You pause and raise your hand up “Actually no, I wanna guess.” Despite your commands Simon still pointed “He’s this one.” Your breath hitched as you shot him the coldest glare, “Bitch are you deaf, I said let me guess!?”
You throw your head back “Nobody fucking listens.” stepping to Rick, kneeling down to his level. “So you’re Rick huh?” His face stays in the same position. The sigh you let out could be heard from a mile away, “Listen ‘Rick’, you can either make this as easy as possible and speak when you’re fucking spoken to, or we can just get to the fun part and y’know not give you a deal hm?” You get up slowly and look around “Well, since your lovely ‘leader’ isn’t muttering a damn word, who wants to speak huh? Sadly there is no time to discuss, so that means I’ll just pick ‘Kay? ‘Kay.” Making your way down the line up, enjoying every scared look shot your way just a tad too much , eventually stopping in front of a boy with a gnarly ass eye - patch. “Cute kid, such a shame y’know maybe if you pricks didn’t kill my fucking people i could set you up with a real cute girl. They’d eat this eye - patch shit up” Patting his shoulder just a ‘lil too hard to be noted as friendly stopping right in front of the cutest girl you’ve come across since the breakout. “Hmm, what a shame the cute girls are stone cold killers. What's your name, gorgeous?” Her words mash together due to her trembling state “Maggie. My name is Maggie.” “Well isn’t that pretty?” you lean down closer to her face pulling out a pocket knife, about to bring it up to the tip of her chin before the buzzkill of the century decides to intervene. A lanky looking asian boy throwing himself out of the line - up screaming “No! No!! Don’t hurt her!”
The blade immediately retracts, fury building on your face, “You see that?! That is what were not going to fucking do. You are here because you cunt’s can't control yourselves. So sit your asses down and learn some patience before I get my dad to ‘beat some sense into you’.” Jumping up slightly at your mention of Negan “speaking of my dad, I think you meet the man behind your madness hm?” Skipping down to the trailer knocking hard on the door “Daddy! It’s your turn” The energy completely changed watching the door to the trailer open, ever so slowly. The sound of the buckles and leather clashing together as Negan steps out.
“Meet my dad, Negan.”
☆ - Part two coming soon ! !
#negansmith#the walking dead#father figure negan#enemies to lovers#maggie greene#maggie x reader#slow burn
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Negan x Reader/OC TWD
Chapter two! I already have more chapters out on ao3 so go check them out if you enjoy <3
AO3 Chapt. One
X found themselves in a small dark room, sitting on a pillow and staring at the faint glow of a lantern that sat in the corner. The room smelled stiff, the air heavy and dry. They felt more like a prisoner at this point, but at least they were untied and had a fresh change of clothes. They'd also been allowed to quickly shower off the dirt and blood that had once caked their hair and skin before changing and being escorted into here. Negan, who had personally brought them here, assured X that it was just for the night and they'd talk more in the morning. Something about letting them rest before they figured out what was what and how they might be connected to the slaughter that occurred. Maybe they'd even find out why they were tied up in the first place.
They replayed the past few hours in their head on a loop, turning everything over in their head. X couldn't help but feel like an unwanted guest, a strange outsider who intruded on this intricate world within these factory walls. Hell, who wouldn't feel like an outsider when cast into some dinghy small room? They questioned how they could fit in here, what role they could possibly play, or if they would just be cast aside. Maybe worse.
For now, though, all they could do was sit silently in the room and try to get some rest. Biding their time, waiting for morning to come. X watches the shadows from the lantern dance across the grey walls, exhaustion settling over them.
Slowly, with a resigned sigh, X slumped against the wall and let their eyes draw close as they fell asleep.
Hours passed, and X suddenly woke up in a cold sweat, feeling a hand on their shoulder as they gasped for air and pushed themselves into the corner of the room, eyes wide and frantic. The looming figure in front of them jerked backward, hands coming up defensively.
"Whoa, whoa, no need to flip your shit on me now," the figure, Negans, a voice cut through the room with an amused tone, letting out a low chuckle. "You were sleeping so hard I damn near thought you were dead."
X's breath began to steady as they glanced around the small room, seeing that it was only Negan. Slowly, they brought a hand to their head and rubbed it softly. They gulped and glanced down nervously as Negan slowly crouched down to their level, looking at them from across the room.
"Looks like you had one hell of a rough night, sweetheart." Negan started in a low voice, firmly holding his gaze on X, "Why don't we get you out of here and have a little talk ourselves."
X nodded and slowly stood up, holding their hands tightly to their chest as they fiddled with their fingers nervously. Negan also stands up and backs out of the room, X following quickly behind. They spot a guard down the hallway watching them but pay little mind to it as they follow Negan. They're led down the winding corridors of the old factory all the way up to an ornate-looking door. Negan passes them a sideways smirk before pushing the door open and stepping inside. It looks like an office, with two other entries on opposite walls and a desk in one corner. In the middle of the room sat a couch and a plush leather chair in front of the desk. X took their seat in the leather chair as Negan sat on the other side of the desk, a grin on his face.
"Now then," He starts as he pushes a glass of water across the desk, "why don't you give me the rundown on yesterday?"
A cloud of tension settles over the room as X takes the glass, taking a long, slow sip of water as they ponder their response. After the shower and rest of last night, along with this water here, they felt like they could finally muster some sort of speaking. So, they did.
"Well.." Their voice was low and hoarse, "I was walking down a road practically half dead when a truck pulled up beside me and two men stepped out…"
Negan's posture remained relaxed as he watched them with an intense gaze. He listened closely, hanging on each word, resting his head on his two intertwined hands as his elbows propped up on the table.
"I didn't even know what was happening when I was suddenly being grabbed," Their voice began to quiver, the memory lurking back like a sour aftertaste, "everything just went black then. I woke up, who knows how many hours later, and everything was still and dark. I thought maybe I was dead for a minute before I came to my senses. You know the rest…"
X took another sip of water, looking down at the desk as their voice trailed off. The room lay quiet for a moment, tension weighing down harder and harder with each passing second.
"You have any people that might've come looking for you?" Negan asked in an accusatory tone, "My men rolled up and scared whoever off before they could open the truck… Might've been looking for someone."
X shook their head, expressing a mix of resignation and uncertainty. "No, sir.."
Negan couldn't help but crack a wide grin, a deep laugh cutting through the tension in the room like a hot knife to butter. "Sir, huh? Well damn, kid," he sat back in his chair, arms crossing around his chest, "making me feel all official and shit. Now then, we just gotta figure out why you were tied up like a goddamn Christmas present just for me."
X took another sip of water with an audible gulp, "I'm not a kid.. You don't have to call me that." They muttered defiantly, gaze shifting to Negan's eyes.
Negan's grin deepened as he regarded X, an amused glint in his eyes as he waved a hand dismissively. "Well I will keep that in mind, but no need to get all prickly about it," his voice came out in a placatingly jovial air. "But hey, you got the whole wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights thing going on. C'mon."
"So," X started as they finished their glass of water, "wouldn't you know more about the whole me getting kidnapped thing than I do? Considering they were your men, after all." They speak genuinely, tilting their head slightly to the side curiously.
"Now that is a good thought." Negan mused as he tapped his fingers rhythmically on his desk, lips curved into a thoughtful smile. "But since I don't know shit about why the hell you got your ass swept up off the wasteland, I'd bet someone here sure as hell does."
He slapped his hands on his desk, pushing himself up and walking around the table. He kept his eyes locked on X as he held out a hand to their still-sitting form. "Let's get you to your new room and I will figure this shit out." he declared exuberantly.
X looked from his face down to his hand before sucking in a deep breath and taking it, allowing him to effortlessly pull them to their feet. They follow him down the familiar-looking corridors again until he comes across a room with an open door. It was a medium-sized room complete with a small kitchenette in one corner and a little living room set up in the other. To X's delight, there was also a good-sized bed pressed against a wall with a murky window sprawled across it, offering a view of the courtyard below and the distant treeline. It was not much of a grand sight, but hell, it was something.
"Now, it ain't the Ritz, but I am sure you'll find yourself right at home here." Negan grinned as he stepped into the room, X closely following.
They noticed a plate of food already in the kitchen and furrowed their eyes at it, looking at Negan with a confused look.
"See, I had so much faith in you that I had this room and that food over there already made up just for you this morning." Negan said with a cocky grin, leaning against a table in the middle of the room. "I mean, you just look so innocent."
His eyes lingered on X unnecessarily long, getting a blush out of them when his eyes noticeably wandered down their figure. Negan let out an exaggerated flirtatious whistle, which made X shift in place and cast their gaze towards the floor. The prolonged admiration of sorts affected them, so they fought to brush away.
They managed to find their voice and spoke up, albeit a bit shaky, as they cleared their throat. "Right… Well, I appreciate it. All of it, really." They glanced back up, eyes meeting Negan's for a fleeting moment as a faint smile tugged at their lips, a soft pink hue still lingering on their cheeks.
Negan's forward demeanour threw them off, and they could not tell how much of it was supposed to be a joke. Maybe all of it was a joke; perhaps it meant nothing at all. But damn, X couldn't help but secretly wish it was more than just jokes…
Negan let out a low, relaxed chuckle that filled the room, the sound oozing charm and a hint of danger. He sighed lightly as he ran a hand through his slicked black hair and moved swiftly towards the door. A cocky smirk pulled at his lips as he grabbed the door handle. "Well, I will leave you to it then." he drawled, giving off an air of casual authority.
As he began pulling the door shut behind him, he paused momentarily. Negan's intense gaze fixed on X, and he let out a cool breath. "Oh yeah, and if you stay here, well, you work for me, all right?" His words held heavy in the air, an indirect threat, no, a promise. With that he left, the door clicking shut behind him.
X was left speechless as they stood in the room alone, a twinge of fear rolling up their back in a wave of chills, from flustered to bemused and shaken up in a matter of seconds. It was almost impressive Negan's ability to quickly switch up the mood. Their thoughts were cut off by their stomach rumbling, and they sighed, grabbing the plate and sitting down on the bed with it. Yeah. It is a lot more comfortable than the concrete cell from the night before.
Surprisingly, the scrambled eggs were still warm and fluffy. Even more surprisingly, they actually tasted good. A piece of what looked like homemade bread was next, a nice layer of butter spread atop. This was something they could definitely get used to. Besides, as long as they behaved and did what Negan said, they'd be alright.
#negan#negan x reader#negan smith#twd negan#twd#the walking dead#twd fanfiction#slow burn#ao3 fanfic#negan x oc
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Prolog
Neganxreader fanfic
This will eventually be smut
TW: broken bones, swearing
When trying to escape some bitters I had seriously wounded my leg jumping over a fence. Stumbling through the woods had only seemed to make the injury worse. It was dusk when I finally sought shelter in an abandoned house. I examined my wounds only to find an infection had already started. My leg was swollen and bleeding. After an attempt to clean the wound with water; I made a makeshift brace to prevent my leg from becoming more damaged. Finally I had allowed my self to get some rest.
The next morning I could hear a vehicle out side and the fowl mouth of a frustrated man. Peeking out a window to see a small semi truck. The man who was was yelling was quite tall. He had black slicked back hair and a beard that had started to turn gray. He was quite handsome sporting a black leather jacket and some jeans. I watched as he walked away from the supply truck. Seeing the vehicles unguarded my stomach began to growl. It had been so long since I've eaten, stealing a little something wouldn't hurt anybody right? Just a small amount of food.
If I was going to be able to eat I had to act fast. I quietly opened the door and made my way to the semi. When I had made it to the back of the vehicle I realized that there was more then one voice, this one seemed to be a woman. "Look Negan I told you we should have killed those fuckers long ago!" The male voice presumably Negan replied in a mocking tone "Don't worry your sweet tits, next time I'm taking more then half." I heard enough of their conversation to decide it would be better to not get on their bad side. I opened the trailer door just enough for me to squeeze in. The light from the small opening revealed some vegetables packed into a small crate. Crawling into the trailer moving towards the back. I heard the driver and passenger door open. Shit I abandoned the idea of eating. The doors slammed closed and the engine started. I tried to quickly move to the door; half way there vehicle picked up speed knocking me over causing a jolt of pain to shoot up my leg. It was now most definitely broken.
The door opened and light spilled in to blind me. My eyes began to adjust, a blurry group of people were surrounding the trailer. A tall figure climbed into the trailer. I tried to crawl backwards but the pain in my leg made the attempt futile. Now clearer, the man I believed to be negan was holding a baseball bat with barbedwire wrapped around it. I felt fear spread through my body; what would he do to me? Would he kill me?Torture me?
He knelt in front of me lifting my chin up with the tip of the bat. I felt tears beginning to form in my eyes as the barbedwire pressed further into my skin.
"Dont cry" He mocked, yet his voice had a sympathetic tone. Negan lowered his bat and turned to the group "Take them to the infirmary." He looked back to me "Behave yourself," he placed his rough hand on my cheek "I'd hate to bash your pretty skull in."
#daddy negan#negan fanfiction#twd negan#the walking dead negan#negan fic#negan x reader#slow burn#the walking dead#walking dead fanfiction
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Hi I’m kinda shy about this one. So the reader has been traveling with dead city cowboy Negan for awhile and she’s liked him for a long time but she’s a virgin and she wants him to take it.
Don't be shy bb, I am a slutttt for dead city Negan. Basically, think of this as if you were in Ginny's shoes, but you're 18.
Our Little Cabin
Dead City!Negan x Reader
Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, virgin reader, vaginal sex, fingering, family death (reader's mom), reader seduces the hell out of negan, extreme age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 50ish), masturbating (both), masturbating in front of Negan while he refuses to touch you, daddy-kink, breeding kink, cuddling, pure filth
A/n: If you like slow burn, sexual tension and a "hard to get" daddy Negan, this one is for you. I promise one day I'll finally write a fic without daddy-kink, but today is not that day.
"Can we go home now, Negan? My legs hurt." I complain, dragging my feet lazily through the leaves.
He stops and sighs, resting his hands on his hips. I stop too and stare at him. That damn cowboy hat.. I swear he wears it just to tease me.. and it's working.
"Yeah, doll. Sun'll be going down soon anyway."
"Ugh thank god." My head falls back dramatically and he chuckles as we start our way back.
Negan took me under his wing a few months ago when some assholes attacked Oceanside, killing my family and everyone I know. I was lucky - if you wanna call it that - enough to escape. I ran into Negan in the woods and it's just been me and him ever since. I'm thankful for him, considering I never had a dad or father figure growing up. My mom was my best friend.. and now she's gone. But at least I have him.
I've grown attached to Negan over the recent months.. But something feels.. different lately. I'm not sure what suddenly changed over the last few weeks, but I've caught myself imagining things about him that I shouldn't. Even touching myself to the thought of him. I feel so guilty afterwards, but I can't stop. I've never been with anyone.. never kissed anyone.. never touched anyone. And my body is screaming at me for it. I can't even look at him anymore without imagining what he looks like under his clothes.
"Why're you so quiet, kid?" He glances at me as we walk.
Ugh, I hate it when he calls me kid.
I shrug. "Just thinkin'."
"About?"
"Doesn't matter." And I've convinced myself it doesn't. I'll never be with someone romantically, because for one.. it's the apocalypse. It's not like I have a school full of hot boys lined up ready to ask me to prom. Not that I'd give them a chance anyway. I'd probably be more into the teachers. And second, the man I want would never think of me that way.
"That's not true."
"You don't even know what I'm thinking, so how can you say that?"
"Anything you think about - worry about - matters to me, y/n. So, spill."
We finally make it back to our little cabin. We've been staying in it for awhile, stocking it with food and supplies. No one has found us yet.. It's kinda nice. But I won't get used to it. Because nothing good lasts forever.
I throw myself on the couch dramatically, as if our walk that we've done a hundred times now could've killed me.
"I don't know... I just, I feel like most kids - people - my age have already experienced more in life that I have."
"Like?"
"Sex." I blurt before I can stop myself. I look to Negan to see his reaction, but he's surprisingly not that alarmed. His eyebrows are raised as he studies me, probably more shocked that I actually had the balls to say that in front of him.
"Listen, I don't really feel comfortable doing the whole birds and bees talk with you."
My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and I nod disappointedly.
"Sorry, it's just.. I - no one's really talked to me about it before. My mom said she would when I was ready.. but then she.. she.." I fight back the tears. I hate crying. You can't come across weak in the times we live in and I've been forced to be strong my entire life.
He looks at me finally and sighs, holding his arm out for me to come snuggle next to him. It's not the first time he's held me as I've cried over my mom. Won't be the last.
I bury my head in his chest, sniffling, as his hand rubs my back.
"Alright, kid. What do you wanna know?" He gives in, feeling sorry for me.
"Well, I know how it works, but I guess I just wanna know what it feels like." I feel him tense underneath me as he adjusts himself awkwardly.
"No boyfriends at Oceanside?"
"There were boys.. but none that I was interested in."
"You'll find someone when the time is right. You're still young."
"Well you don't have anyone, and you're.. not young."
"Jeez, kid. Thanks." He chuckles. "I did have someone. A few someone's actually. Lost them all to this cruel world." He admits and my heart hurts for him.
"Well, you have me now." I get more comfortable, laying my head in his lap and looking up at him. He shifts uncomfortably but eventually relaxes and even strokes my hair lightly.
"Yeah, I do. And nothing is going to happen to you. You're safe with me, doll." Butterflies swirl around in stomach, but I know he doesn't mean that in the way I wish he did. He sees me as a kid.. hell, as his kid. For a moment my heart sinks from jealously at the "someones" he mentioned. Lucky bitches.
"...Negan.. does it.. feel good?" I blush a little.
"Sex? .....Yeah, doll. It fucking feels good."
"Will you.. show me?" I stare up at him innocently and his hand abruptly stops stroking my hair.
He bends over, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Time for bed, darlin'." He pushes me gently up and off his lap before standing and heading to his room. The cabin is small but we each have our own rooms. His is the smaller one, right across from mine. He wanted me to have the bigger one.
I sit on the couch, feeling defeated and stupid. What was I thinking. I relax on the couch for a little longer, choosing to read a book to take my mind off what just happened. After an hour of barely keeping my eyes open, I close the book and head down the hall towards my room. I stop in front of Negan's door, peaking through the crack. He always leaves his door a few inches open just so he can hear if anything happens. My eyes widen when I notice the sheets are barely covering the lower half of his legs, revealing the rest of his body. His tan torso is exposed, showing his peppery chest hair, and his black boxers are low on his waist. I restrain myself from not jumping him right then.
I eventually make my way back to my room and change out of my clothes, throwing on some shorts and a tank top to sleep in. I can't get the image of Negan's body out of my head and find my hand slowly making its way towards my aching center once I'm finally in bed. I close my eyes, imaging Negan between my legs as I touch myself. I don't bother suppressing my moans, confident that Negan is fully asleep. "Mmm, Negan!" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue as I'm pleasuring myself brings me closer to the edge.
"Oh, Negan. Right there!" My door suddenly swings open and I snap my eyes open to see a worried Negan standing in my doorway.. still in his boxers. My hand flies out of my shorts and I throw the sheets over me.
"Oh my god, can you knock?!"
"I - you yelled for me." He says flustered. I notice the way his face reddens when he realizes what I was doing.
I gently pull the covers off me again and spread my legs a little.
"What are you doing, y/n?" He stands in front of me at the doorway, refusing to look at anything other than my eyes. That's okay.. I bet I can make him look at me down there. I like the challenge.
"What's it look like?" My bite the tip of my finger seductively at him before sliding my shorts to the side, completely revealing my pussy to him.
He glances down with a serious look across his face, like he can't believe I'm doing this. And neither can I. This is so unlike me, but I'm so desperate for him I don't even know how to control myself anymore.
The fact that he's still watching encourages me to continue. I use one hand to pull my shorts to the side and the other to slowly slide a finger through my wet slit. "I just wanna know what it feels like, daddy."
I study him closely, noticing the way his jaw ticks at the nickname. My eyes travel lower and I see his bulge through his boxers. It looks so big, but I'd be determined to make it fit no matter what.
My finger dips inside of me and I arch my back a little and moan, putting on a show for him. He stands with his back against the wall, refusing to move.
I start rubbing my clit slowly and get frustrated when he still isn't reacting. "Negan, please touch me."
He rubs a hand down his face with frustration. "Goddamn it, y/n."
"I just.. I need you. Please." I cringe at my desperate attempt to have him touch me. I need this man so bad it's embarrassing.
"I can't, baby."
"But you like watching me, don't you?"
I take it as a yes when he doesn't say anything and that's all I need before pushing myself over the edge. "Negan!" I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. Even in the dark, I can see the lust burning through his eyes.
"Go to bed, y/n." He demands but I'm unable to read his tone. Is he mad, proud, annoyed?
I fall asleep at the thought of him giving in and touching me. Maybe if I think hard enough, I'll manifest it.. I heard that shit really works.
Negan's POV:
That girl is gonna be the fucking death of me.
She's been so flirty with me lately and I've been trying to ignore it. But fuck if she's not making it hard. Literally.. I'm hard as a fucking rock right now.
I refuse to touch my dick while thinking about her. She's thirty-fucking-three years younger than me for fuck's sake.
She's confused. She doesn't want me, and she damn sure isn't getting me. Apocalypse or not, it's still fucking wrong.
I drag a hand down my face and sigh. I shouldn't have watched her, but I couldn't look away. She flashed her fucking pussy right in my face and I just stood there.. watching her. Fuck me.
My dick is throbbing and I know I won't be able to sleep until I get some relief. "Fuck it."
I pull myself out of my boxers and immediately start stroking my dick. I think about anything but.. her. Fuck.. y/n. That pretty little wet pussy dripping right in front of me. The way she said my name when she came.
"Ahh, fuuuck. Y/n, fuck." I cum hard and fast and immediately regret it afterwards. Fuck is wrong with me.
I can't - and I won't let myself think about her like that again.
Y/n's POV:
I wake up before Negan and decide to read my book some more in the living room. It's a romance novel that I found one day in an abandoned car. I've read it four times already, but it seems to be the only romance I'll ever get in life, so why the fuck not.
"Morning, sunshine." Negan says sleepily as he walks towards the kitchen next to the living room. He grabs a handful of berries we picked yesterday and tosses them in his mouth before making me a cup full and putting them down next to me.
"Morning. Thanks." I say without looking at him.
He sits on the couch next to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"
My cheeks redden. "Nope."
"Okay, then I will." Great, here comes the lecture. "Y/n, I shouldn't have watched you. We both know that. But, I think you're just confused. It's just been the two of us for months now and you're all young and.. fucking horny and shit. But, us? It can't happen."
I stay silent, pretending to read my book.
"Seriously? The silent treatment? You sure did have a lot to say last night."
I remain stubbornly quiet, popping a handful of berries in my mouth.
"Y/n, I don't understand why you're upset right now. Talk to me."
"I'm not upset." I snap. "I'm embarrassed.. humiliated. I was stupid to think you'd ever be into me."
He sighs and I see his head drop out of the corner of my eye. "Darlin', if I was your age, I'd be all fucking over you. Trust me. Please don't be embarrassed, okay? You are hot as shit and any man your age would be lucky to have you. We can forget it happened if that's what you want." He holds his arm out again, and like always, I snuggle into him.
"I don't want to forget." My hand rests against his white t-shirt and I want so badly to slide underneath it and run my fingers through is tummy hair.
A moment of silence goes by before he finally whispers. "Me neither, doll."
I look up at him, my face dangerously close to his. "I love you, Negan."
His hand reaches up to caress my face as if he's scared to hurt me. "I love you too, baby... Just not like that."
He wipes the tear that falls from my cheek and my heart shatters in my chest.
One month later...
My feelings for Negan haven't faded; I'm just better at not showing them. We've been more touchier than usual... cuddling on the couch, holding hands when we walk, but nothing "inappropriate." We also haven't mentioned that night. It's like it never happened, which still hurts when I think about it.
I get done bathing myself off after dinner and slip into my usual sleepwear before crashing to the bed and pulling my book from the nightstand. I could quote every line in it by now.
I start to drift off right before a loud boom hits right outside my window, following a bright flash of lightning. I try to fall asleep, but every time I doze off, another loud boom jolts me awake. I toss and turn for an hour before deciding to do something I know I shouldn't.
I crack Negan's door open slowly, trying not to wake him and gently slip into bed next to him. I also may or may not have taken my sleep shorts off, leaving me in just my pink panties and black tank top. I ease underneath the covers and lay facing him. He's usually a light sleeper, so between the thunder and me sneaking into his bed, I'm surprised he's not awake.
I'm completely still for a good ten minutes, making sure he's still sound asleep before I make any movements. When he lets out a little snore, I slowly slide the blanket down off of him. I imagine myself reaching over and running my fingers through his thick chest hair. I keep sliding the covers down further and further, careful not to wake him, until I get to just below the waistband of his boxers. My eyes trail from the deep v in his abdomen to the black hairs peaking above his underwear and I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch him right now.. to slide my hand down his boxers and feel him. I've wondered how big he is for so long.. trying to steal glimpses of him through his pants when he walks, or catch him with the covers down while he's sleeping.
I decide to pull the covers slightly further down and my mouth gapes open at the sight. He's hard.. so hard that I can see the outline of him through his boxers as it threatens to poke through his underwear. My mouth waters at his size and I know if he ever put it in me, it would definitely hurt like hell.
After I've stared at it long enough to feel like a total creep, my eyes travel back up his body and I almost yelp when I see his head is slightly turned and his eyes are watching me curiously, as if he's been waiting for me to make a move.
"I - uh.. The thunder.. I got scared." I explain.
"Nice try, kid. Go back to bed."
"Negan, please. Just let me sleep here. Nothing weird, I just.. don't wanna be alone."
He sighs and that alone tells me he's going to let me. I hide my excitement as I turn over, facing away from him and snuggling into the covers. They smell like him.. musk and leather.. and the scent makes me practically feral. He's still on his back, but my ass is barely touching his side. It's hardly anything, and it's not like we haven't cuddled before, but the thought of my ass so close to him sets my insides on fire.
Another lightning strike hits outside his window this time and I flinch a little, not purposely meaning for my ass to press into him even more. He doesn't react and I wonder if he's already asleep.
"Negan...?" I say softly.
"Hm?"
"Will you hold me?"
"Y/n, you are seriously pushing it. Go to sleep."
a few minutes go by before another boom echoes in the distance and I jump a little again.
He sighs heavily and turns over, draping his arm over my waist and pressing his body firmly against mine. His dick is pressed against my ass, but it's not as hard anymore... and that hurts a little.
"Go to fucking sleep."
I hold his hand tightly against my lower stomach and embrace this moment with him. I want him so bad that I can literally feel my vagina throbbing. If it could speak, it would be meowing like a cat in heat right now. I close my eyes and imagine him sliding in me from behind. I get a little too lost in the thought and accidentally arch a little, grinding my ass further into him. I feel him grow to full length against me and the feeling is enough for me to squeeze my legs together, desperate for some pressure down there.
"Where the fuck are your shorts?" He says in a deep and sleepy voice.
I giggle as he breathes heavily into my neck before whispering again.
"What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"
"Touch me?"
"I'm already touching you, y/n. My fucking dick is basically between your ass cheeks."
"Not yet.. my panties are in the way." I slip my panties off my legs smoothly and discard them on the floor.
"Y/n." He warns but before he can tell me no, I'm bare from the waist down and pressing my ass back against him.
"Trying to give this old man a heart attack?" He chuckles deeply.
"I can try harder than that if you want me to." I tease.
"Fuck, baby. Go to sleep before I do something we'll both regret."
"Like what?"
"...Like pound that pussy so fucking good you'll never think about another man's cock but mine."
"If you love me, wouldn't you want to be the one to give that to me for the first time? Wouldn't you rather it be you than some asshole who doesn't care about me."
He doesn't answer, so I keep pressing him. I place my hand back on top of his resting against my stomach and slowly slide it lower towards my aching center.
"Don't start something you can't finish, darlin'."
"Oh, I'm very determined to finish." I spread my legs apart slightly to guide his hand over my wet center. His middle finger easily slides between my slippery folds and we both moan at the feeling.
"Goddamn. Fucking dripping for daddy. He growls in my ear before leaning up a little and pressing his lips to my neck from behind. I move my hand from his, letting him take control - finally.
His finger moves back and forth between my wet slit, gliding over my clit every few seconds and making me moan each time. His other hand slips under me and up to my neck, gently squeezing my throat.
"This what you wanted, baby?" He breathes in my ear and chills spread over every inch of my skin.
I nod quickly as I feel my orgasm build from just his light touch. He hasn't even put a finger in me and I'm already on the verge of tears.
As soon as his finger rubs tiny circles over my clit, I lose it.. moaning out for him.
"Thaaat's it, cum for daddy, babygirl."
"Negan!" I scream out as his hand goes from my neck to my mouth, muffling the sound.
"Don't need the dead hearing us, doll."
He kisses my neck once I've soaked his fingers and then brings them to his mouth.
"Mmm, fuck, this pussy tastes so good I might have to eat it everyday."
I turn around in his arms to face him. My hand goes up to hold his face and my fingers play with his gray hair. He kisses my forehead before meeting my gaze.
"This is so wrong, baby." He strokes my cheek gently.
"Can't be wrong if it feels this good."
He tilts my chin up to press his lips against mine. It's so much better than I ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing, and even though I've never kissed anyone, he takes the lead and I'm thankful for it. I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his hand gripping the back of my neck now. The feeling of is tongue in my mouth makes me clench my legs again, and I think he notices because his hand on my neck travels lower until it reaches the back of my thigh. He lifts my leg over his and his hand slides to my ass, squeezing lightly before his long fingers tease my entrance from behind.
His dick is pressed into me painfully and I can't wait any longer. I need to touch him. Feel him inside me.
I reach my hand inside his boxers and pull out his big, hard cock. I try looking at it under the covers between us.
"You've never seen a dick before, doll?"
I shake my head no and admire him. It's so perfect.
He closes his eyes as I stroke it. "Fuck. So innocent, baby."
He kisses my neck while I pull on him even more. "You sure you want this, baby?"
I nod. "Yes, please. I've been wanting this for so long, Negan."
He lines himself up at my opening, my leg still draped over his so that he's in between my legs.
"Once we do this, you're mine darlin'."
"I'm already yours."
That's all he needs to hear to finally push the tip past my opening. I've never had anything inside of me other than a finger, and the feeling of his thick head pushing through me and stretching my walls has my mouth falling open.
"Tell me to stop, baby."
"No, keep going. Please." I beg.
He slides deeper and deeper until he's buried inside me completely. He stays still, letting me adjust. and kisses me through the pain. A pain that feels so good. I kiss him back hard, scratching his back while grinding my waist pathetically against him repeatedly. I moan in his ear and give him the go ahead to start moving. He fucks me deep and slow at first, letting me get used to him.
"So fucking tight baby."
He growls in my ear and vibration of his deep voice sends chills through me again until my pussy flutters around him.
"Holy fuck, doll. Do that again."
I squeeze my cunt around him again and he lets out the hottest moan I've ever heard. Not that I've heard a man moan before, but I just know that his are the hottest.
"I won't last if you keep doing that, baby." He warns and the thought of him shooting his load inside me has my head spinning.
After a few more thrusts that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I feel myself reaching my orgasm again and hold him against me so I can grind against him and ride it out.
"Negan, Negan, oh my god.” I breathe out as I push myself so hard against him that my clit rubs against his pubic bone creating the friction I need to send me over the edge.
"Goddamn." He thrusts into me faster and harder. "Gonna make me fucking cum already, baby." He tries to pull out but you tighten your leg around him so he can't pull away.
"Cum in me, Negan. Please." I cry desperately. "I love you. I want all of you."
He kisses me hard before his hips come to a halt. He practically yells out when he shoots his load deep inside me. "Ah, fuck! Babyyy."
The sound of Negan cumming is even hotter than his moaning from earlier - I didn't think it could get any better but holy shit. We're both a tangled, sweaty mess while our hearts beat out of our chest.
We eventually fall asleep with our lips still touching and his softening dick still inside me.
I don't even worry about the possibility of what could happen in the future.. I know I'm safe with Negan.. Here in our little cabin. He gently strokes my hair as we drift back off to sleep.
BOOM. The thunder crashes outside again, but this time I don't even flinch.
"You're not scared of thunder, are you, doll?"
I smile against his chest. "...No."
The End.
Brb, going to take an ice bath.
#jeffrey dean morgan#negan#jdmorgan#jdm x reader#jdmfanfiction#negan fanfiction#twd negan#jdm fanfiction#jeffrey dean morgan smut#jeffrey dean morgan x reader#jdm imagine#jdm smut#jdm fanfic#negan smith#negan smith x you#negan smith x reader#negan x reader#the walking dead negan#negan twd#twd fanfic#twd smut#daddy negan#negan x you#dead city negan
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Hangman [Part 2]
(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist
Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But you had still been alive by the time you were cut down. What will Daryl go through before reuniting with you?
2.8k words
Warnings (Mentions of suicide, gore, ANGST, violence, injury, ect.)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Daryl POV
He saw you getting dragged to stand on that wooden box. Noose swinging back and forth in the air. He had threatened and then pleaded when the rope went around your neck. ‘He had done this, the reason for you standing there.’ You were looking at him. A sweet smile on your face. How could you possibly not be furious with him. He was getting dizzy from moving so much and the amount of blood he lost already. He watched the tears slip down your face but then your face straightened and you glared at Negan. How could you look so brave into death?
Negan was still yapping but the ringing in his ears muted most of his words. He registered, “Any last words?” You didn’t even hesitate stating, “See you in hell.” The look in your eye must have been murderous under the bag that been dragged over your head. Negans chuckle in amusement sent his skin ablaze, “Hope I don’t keep you waiting-“ the silence that followed had Daryl’s mind racing to replace the noise, ‘How do I stop this?’ ‘I can’t lose her!’ The abrupt kick from the box under your feet felt like a stab in the heart. He felt like he was watching it in slow motion. Your slow decent to the ground. To hear the rope pull tot again the tree branch above you.
He watch in shock no noise coming out of him. The bounce of the rope tightening around you suspending you in the air. It was Carl he heard the loudest make a pained grunt at witnessing it. Then you were clawing at the rope that suffocated you. Feet dangling and kicking. You had made a surprised yelp at the first impact. It burned into his mind as soon as he heard it. He took a sharp intake of breath for the first time and he mumbled incoherent please through his cry’s.
When your head fell back you then went slack. Your stillness punched all the air out of his lungs. Everyone’s cry’s and faces pulled into disbelief at your now motionless body. Daryl’s eyes remain glued to you. It felt like he was pulled into a sinkhole and had an empty feeling flowing through him. Negan’s proud voice cutting through the noise of grief, “That was like a damn witch hunt! Shit, didn’t think she would be flopping around so much!” He turned to the people shaking on their knees. “Damn, seems to have learned an important lesson finally! We got there in the end though. THEY GET THE SPIRIT AWARD FOR SURE!” Negan turned to Rick, “I JUST GOT A FEELIN’!” Negan yelled prancing around… putting on a show. “YOU PROVIDE FOR ME!” Rick slowly nodded, “SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO!” He gulped a flash of light making him squint before speaking, "W-we provide-" Negan nodded with a pleased smile getting what he wanted. He pointed to Daryl, "Load him up."
Daryl had dug his hands in the dirt still staring at your body, looking dazed. He felt them pull him and he only struggled a little, tears streaming down his face, noise unable to release from his tight throat. He couldn't leave you. They throw him back in the truck they had dragged him out of in the beginning. He struggled to get back up so he curled into himself. The door slammed making him jump. His mind getting dragged to flashback of you. The moment you saw each other after the prison. When you first admitted to being in love with him. Remembering when you took his last name as yours.
Till death do us part.
Now that it had happened he couldn’t comprehend it. To live without you. For your existence to simply cease. His grief rolled into anger. At the world, at the saviors, but mostly himself. You had always disliked when he got worked up, ‘It will be the death of you!’ But in the end it was the death of you. You had yelled it at him during an argument. He would have said something back to that if you hadn’t started to get worked up tears shinning in your eyes.
‘Your love for me got you killed.’
He quietly sobbed at the thought. The van he was in started to move. He was being taken to who knows where. Whatever it was he would burn it to the ground with everyone who had hurt you in it, including himself.
He passed out somewhere along the way. Only waking at the feeling of stitch’s digging into his shoulder. He was later stripped of his clothes and put in a dark room. He would sit in the corner huddled together playing with the remaining ring on his finger. That’s when the torture here began.
He was feed poorly. Sleep deprived with a song that play on loop at full volume. He felt weak, sometimes thinking he would hear your voice off into the darkness. He would perk up and cry apologizes to you. Blaming himself, soon your presence turned into a haunting after a rough day. He tried to run but was tricked and beaten. He was on the cool floor hearing your voice ring in his ears, “Your fault. If I never took pity on you I’d still be here! YOU KILLED ME!” He would often pull on his hair to quiet you.
A day later, he was dragged to Alexandria. His face was swollen and he had a remaining shake in his hand. He was in a constant state of fighter flight. When he had got to the gates he couldn’t meet anybody’s eye. They had succeeded in breaking him. But not the way they intended. They broke him to comply. To be one of them. But he continued refusal. They broke him by making his life meaningless. With a sole purpose of destroying the ones who took his love from this world.
He was helping move boxes from Alexandria homes. Rick standing next to Negan near by. Rick had spoke to Carl from the porch, “You should go check on Lori. Make sure that she is okay.” He said it loud enough for Daryl to overhear. Daryl was perplexed at the sentence, was he trying to insinuate something? Lori had been dead for a while now, had he lost it again? Carl chimed in, “I’m sure she is doing fine.” Were they talking about you? There’s no way in hell you would be ‘fine’ after the shit that happened. It was hopeful thinking, he probably didn’t even say Lori and he imagined it.
Rick pleaded for Daryl being able to stay but when asked to make his case he knew he wouldn’t let him go. He also didn’t feel he deserved it. He had looked to his brother, his face screaming he cared. It only made him more guilty. You had cared for him, that’s why you were dead.
That was only solidified more back in his cell. Dwight was on him to join them, that all the torture would be over. Even if he did, the torture would still continue in your absence. Daryl said somethings that struck a nerve, “And be like you? Lettin Negan bang your wife, wow you sure saved her.” Dwight threw the dog food sandwich to the floor, “At least she is still alive.” He threw a polaroid to the floor, slamming and locking the door behind him.
Daryl’s hands were balled up. The burning ache in his chest at the mention of you. He slowly moved for the picture flipping it over. The crack of light coming from under the door revealing the picture. It was you hanging in that tree. He immediately looked away, clutching a hand to his chest. The hard tension of emotion bubbling out. He silently wept while the music changed. How stupid could he have been? To think maybe Rick was suggesting you were OK.
Your POV
Daryl was right about that, you were everything but ok. Alive yes, but struggling. When you had gotten to hilltop you were rushed to the doctor. He had done a endotracheal Intubation, shoving a tube down your throat to assist you with breathing. Maggie held your hand while Glenn pinned you down. You relaxed when it was in place. Breathing fully and properly, your eyes rolled in the back of your head going unconscious. All adrenaline leaving your body, now unable to process the pain and shut itself down.
You woke startled. The intrusion down your throat causing a panic. You pulled it out but struggled to cough to clear your airway. You rolled over the side of the bed letting gravity do it. It was hard to work any muscle in your throat. You felt something rapped around it. Almost like a pillow. It was a neck brace but the feeling reminded you of having the rope around you. The pillow case under you reminding you of the bag. Someone grabbed you and propped you up to sit. It was the doctor. You froze from your panic seeing panicked eyes all watching you. Maggie sat leaning into Glenn’s shoulder with a hand clasped around her mouth.
It was like a slap of reality. Eye contact with everyone in the room. They explained things to you while still a little frazzled. You were asleep for 14-16 hours. Your bottom lip trembled and you waved everyone closer to you. You enveloped people in hugs. You had never been so close to death. You gesture for something to write on. After getting it you wrote, “Is everything Ok?” Sasha who now sat in a chair next to the bed spoke first, “You should get better, only concern was how you would eat.” The doctor chimed in, “The damage to your throat is unknown. I can’t say for sure if you could eat solid foods or even talk ever again.” You rub the tension between your eyes grabbing the paper and writing again.
“Daryl?”
Glenn put a hand to your leg, “He’s alive. You should know the saviors took him before they left.” You ran a hand through your hair eyes closed tight. The burning in your eyes from the need to cry only added to the pressure in your growing migraine. You bit your lip and tried to swallow down the tightness growing in your throat from tears. However, the sensation of gulping made your whole body tense, slamming your fists down at the pain. A shaken inhale coming out of you. Everyone cringed around you. You collected yourself before writing again. “How the baby?” You had pointed the paper to Glenn and Maggie. She smiled, “We’re ok.” You breath in relieved about the first good news.
Then came the recovery. Not just physically but mentally. Any rope, tie, or, string set you off. You now no longer slept with a pillowcase. You had to eat everything in a paste. You’d crush it and dilute it with water. Felt like dog food. You were persistent when it came to asking about updates on Daryl. ‘When were people going after him?’ ‘When are we fighting?’
Everyday with the same answer. To think of what they were doing to him as each day passed. You started to debate going after him yourself. No opportunities presenting itself until Sasha and Rosita went off to kill Negan and hadn’t come back. With everyone distracted by them you follow after them. You left a note that read,
“I’m sorry for not telling you I ran off, but I need to go get Daryl. Anyone would do the same in my situation. So, no being mad when I come back! Preferably with two Dixons.”
You while still unable to talk and less than great ability to even drink water, were going to save your husband. You followed old tracks from the girls. Knife in hand and an empty gun holster. Also a black hoodie that was a few sizes too big, (you stole from Jesus.) You were by far behind in your tracking ability compared to your Husband. You remember all the times you would go with him to hunt. Being out there alone often lead to other activities you will admit. Probably what took you so long to learn. You found a factor type building the near the end of the trail. You would wait until the sun goes down and seeing what you were working with.
You had rounded the building a few times preparing for when it became sunset. You also took notice at a lot of cars that had left. You decided to act while they were gone. There was a lot with cars and to your surprise Daryl’s motorcycle. It seemed empty and unguarded. There was already holes in the fence tied with zip ties. You avoided the walkers attached to the fence. Breaking the zip ties with your knife and sliding through. You quickly and quietly made your way through a side door.
The hallway had minimum lighting. Any door you would pass you slowly open to look inside. Footsteps on the other side of the hall caused you to go up a flight of stairs. Quick to make your way down the upstairs hall when you heard women chatting. Ducking into a room closest to you. Pressing your ear to the door listening for the people to pass. Taking notice of the room there was a big bed, and a jacket all too familiar. You were in Negan’s room. Stepping back outside you paused and looked at the door.
Deciding to carve a little message in his door before continuing your search for Daryl.
____
| |
| o
| /|\
| |
| / \
|_
"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _."
You made your way back downstairs. Passing door after door until you saw one cracked open. It was another bedroom. You slowly opened it spotting the key to Daryl’s bike. You pocketed it then saw another thing you recognized, Rick’s python. You moved it to your holster while moving back to the door. You ducked your head out of it looking both ways before continuing. Your heart raced every second you were there.
There was 3 doors left at the end of the hall. When opening the first one it opened to reveal a small space that was empty. It was dirty with full brick walls and concrete floor. You moved to the next one but it didn’t budge, it was locked? You moved to the last door and it popped open like the first. You back tracked to the other door and made a small knock against it. Leaning your ear to the door you heard a deep sigh. Someone was locked in one of these small rooms. Inhaling and hoping it was Daryl. You looked around again to make sure no one was coming.
Jamming your knife in the key hole and pulling out a Bobby pin from the back of your head. You were used to lock picking doors open since all the scavenging you’ve done. It was a habit to always have it on you. You fiddled with the lock looking around from time to time. When you finally got it to turn and unlock you put the pin back and held your knife out for whatever was behind the door. The door slowly opened light illuminating the dark room with a beaten and dirty Daryl. Your heart dropping. He was sat down staring at the floor squinting from the light. You slowly feel to your knees.
He looked up seeing you. A mix of a panicked and heart breaking look flashing across his battered features. You put a finger to your lips telling him to be quiet. You crawl over to him and grab his face. He leaned into you making your heart feel strained, ‘what have they done to him.’ Daryl whispering apologies, “It’s all my fault… god I love you.” His hands hovering over your face. You leaned over to lay your head in his hand. He seemed surprised at the contact. He leans forward looking at your face searching your eyes. His hand traveling down gently to your neck his eyes catching a sight glimpse of the bruise around it before you flinched at the contact to it. He breath comes out ragged,
“Y/N?”
You nuzzle your face in his and leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He was looking at you with amazement. You grabbed him by the arms and tried to get him to stand, trying to hint that you both needed to leave.
You were going to get him out of here.
Part 3
Next part is final! Feedback welcome and requests always open! What do you think the Hangman game spelt?
This feels like I wrote it poorly so apologies.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl fanfiction#daryl imagines#daryl x female reader#daryl x reader#norman reedus#twd daryl#angst#fluff
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Hate or Lust?
Summary: Y/N and Negan get separated from the rest of the saviors for a few nights.
Warning: Negan is a warning himself, swearing, tension, sexual tension.
A/N: I randomly made this with my boyfriend on call! I hope it’s good!!
You’ve known Negan for a while, you were one of his first members. He always seemed to be annoyed by your presence, he enjoyed your work but not you as a person.
You were getting ready to set out with Negan, and a few other of his higher ups to go check out a few abandoned buildings that Dwight said he saw. Of course Negan chose you to go with him. He enjoyed how hard you worked, and how much you’d do for everyone. He didn’t bother to talk to you though.
You walked up to Dwight, slinging your bag over your shoulders. Dwight seemed to have a scowl on his face, never lightening up since Negan burned the side of it. He looked up at you as he fixed his sleeve. “How far away are they?” You had asked and slid your hands into your pockets.
He looked out towards the gate. “…not far away. maybe an hour at most?” He glanced at his sleeve, and then looked at you again. “Big boss making you go?” Dwight knew about the whole thing between the two of you. Dwight was honestly one of your best friends here, so if he didn’t see it himself you would have told him anyway.
With a nod of your head, you heard more footsteps on the gravel ground, slow dragging footsteps that could only belong to one person. “Hey dwighty-boy! You ready?” He stood behind you, looking towards dwight. You turn around to look up at him, which he did not return.
Dwight glanced between the two of you until you looked at Dwight. “Uh.. Yeah.” He wasn’t gonna say anything more, but noticing how there was tension creeping up into the air as Negan stayed put behind you. “You gonna ask the (lady/him) too?” Dwight’s eyebrows furrowed. He knew Negan well enough to know that he’ll never talk to you unless someone mentioned it.
He finally looked down at you, it was your turn to not do it back. “Hey.” His voice was firm, he obviously wasn’t going to enjoy this. You turned your head and looked up into his eyes. His usual smirk wasn’t ever shown when he looked at you. “You ready?” Was all he said, looking up at Dwight again. Your stomach clenched and you looked at the gravel covered driveway. You don’t know what you did to make Negan hate you so much, but it wasn’t a nice feeling.
“yes.” You spat out, it might come off as disrespectful, but Negan doesn’t want to waste time even punishing you. Dwight could be heard entering a truck. Negan stayed behind you, he didn’t make a plan on moving. You heard footsteps behind you from other men, but thinking it was Negan moving you spun around. Then, Negan instead of The Sanctuary in your view had you step back. He looked at you, by choice.
“Watch it, Y/N.” He said firmly, talking with gritted teeth. He held Lucille loosely as he still did not move. His eyes stayed on yours. Your stomach flipped, he never chose to talk to you, or even look at you without reason. So to say you were nervous was an understatement.
Taking a step back, you were the first to stop the staring contest. “Yes sir.” You said, in a quiet voice as you started walking towards the truck you had usually taken, although never keeping the same passenger. You didn’t look back at Negan, but his eyes could be felt on you still. Hopping into the truck with the keys, twirling them before sliding them into the key slot.
Your view was out the window, waiting for the other saviors to get into their trucks. You weren’t sure who was gonna be in your car with you today, so you waited. The door opened which made your eyes dart towards the passenger door, expecting anyone but him to show up. He got into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Your eyes on him but his eyes on the trucks in front.
You were now gonna have to share a truck with the man that seemed to hate your guts.. Negan. His leather jacket was on but it was now unzipped, Lucille was set on the floor in between the door and his knee. Your truck was the last in line so for him to be joining you, especially as he’d choose anyone but you, it was weird and not like him. “The other trucks were full.” Negan's voice was heard as you realized you were staring at him. Your eyes went back to looking out the window.
“Okay.” Was your response, you weren’t really sure how else you could even respond. The trucks in front of you started so you started your own. Negans presence made an uncomfortable tension. You and him weren’t heads on, but there was an underlying feeling of hatred.
The gates opened to the sanctuary, the few trucks leaving and you started your drive behind them. Usually with whoever your seating partner was there would be at least noises, but with Negan.. There wasn’t even a peep other than the truck's engine being heard. You guys were driving for about an hour like Dwight assumed when the trucks in front came to a slow stop. We arrived and Negan seemed to want to leave as quickly as possible, not even letting you stop the truck completely before he jumped out with Lucille.
You exit your truck after turning it off. Rounding the truck to get to where the other saviors were standing. It seemed like everyone didn’t care to wait for you, but Negan didn’t move until you were close enough to follow. There were two groups of us, although not discussed and just went either way, you weren’t sure which group to follow so you went to the one with Dwight, that just so happened to be the one with Negan.
Entering the house that Dwight chose to go in, someone that you didn’t bother to learn the name of stayed at the door for guard. The room you automatically walked into was the living room, where it looked mostly untouched other than pictures that were clearly taken off the wall, by the fact there were nails left behind. Everyone went into seperate room to search, two in the living room, one in the kitchen, one in the dinning room, and Dwight went into the bedroom on the first floor. Since all rooms were occupied you went up the stairs to go to the first room you saw. It was rather quiet other than the small chatter from the saviors down below. Looking through drawers you found nothing but clothes. Walking over to the bed to look in the nightstand, there were gauze(bandage wraps) which you quickly pocketed for yourself. Hoping no one will notice.
There was a voice from behind you, where the door was. You looked over to see Dwight. “Hey Y/N, find anything?” He entered the room, by how he sounded, he didn’t see you hide the gauze for yourself. You closed the nightstand drawer and stood up.
“Nothing but clothes so far, i’ll keep looking though.” You nodded and went to the other side of the bed to look at the other nightstand. Pulling the drawer open to find batteries, which has you picking them up and throwing them at Dwight. He almost didn’t catch it, he fumbled a little. “Sorry thought you were paying more attention.” I smirked, it was silly banter we did.
Dwight found it funny and finally cracked a smile after how long you’ve seen him without any emotion. He put the batteries in a bag. “Knew you’d find something.” Dwight said and walked towards the door. “Negan said that he doesn’t want to stay here too long, since he thinks he saw a few walkers.” You just nodded at him.
“Thanks Dwight.” You thanked him and he left the room. Taking a quick look around the room to see if there could be any more places to look, not much to look for as this room seemed to be the most bland. Taking a walk around the room before getting onto your stomach to look under the bed. There was liquor. Pulling it out to see what it was you heard footsteps and slid it back under the bed quickly.
You looked under the bed still, pretending like you hadn’t rodin anything. “Y/N.” Negans voice heard, it was a stern way to say your name, and it instantly made you uneasy. Why was he suddenly talking to you so much? “I heard something, what was it?” You looked up at him from where you were laying to see his eyes not at your face, but somewhere around your body. You sighed as you grabbed the liquor, and stood up to show him. Negan quickly smiled when he saw it and took it from you. “Damnnnn. Nice find.” He seemed happy with it, maybe he’ll act like he hates you less. Negan snapped for one of the saviors to take the liquor and bring it to your truck. His hand went to your shoulder, and it made you instantly freeze and you don’t know why. “I’m gonna have some funnn tonighttt,” His tone was bouncing-like. somewhat energetic. “because of you, Y/N.”
Negan then left and it made you speechless. He’s never smiled around you, not talked, not touched, not even looked at you most of the time you’ve known each other. There was nowhere else to look in the room so you left the room. Everyone was already outside taking the stuff they found to the trucks when one savior started to scream about a herd coming. You and Negan were left in the house and tried to run towards the door only to see the walkers already starting to surround the house. Negan saw this as you tried to run out the door and he had quickly grabbed on to your shirt and pulled you against him. “shh.” Negan said quietly. He was protecting you?
The trucks were heard driving off and negan cussed under his breath. They stranded us here without worrying if we were okay or not? Negan's grip is still firm on your shirt. Not letting you move, which made you feel the need to not move an inch. Negan's arm wrapped around your waist as he slowly pulled you back so you weren’t in view of the windows. Why would he care so much about you all of the sudden? “Negan..” You whispered. Which then led him to putting his hand over your mouth.
Negan kept you pressed against him, his arm around your waist and his hand over your mouth. You were hiding from any windows, to not be seen. Everytime Negan heard a noise his hand around your waist got tighter just slightly, but once knowing it okay he loosened his grip. You were unsure how to react to all of this, so you stayed still. Why Negan was protecting you so much was beyond what you knew. Your knees slightly trembled because of the nervousness with both the walker herd and Negan.
When Negan thought the coast was clear he slowly let go of you, but you didn’t move. He leaned down next to your ear. “Y/N.. I think we’re good.” Negans voice was low, he tried to tell you to move it in a way that made it seem less rude. You nodded and stepped out of his reach and towards the door. Your hand went to the doorknob as you tried to react calmly after what Negan had just been doing to you for minutes. When you finally opened the door there was a walker that wasn’t heard or seen and came walking towards you, Negan quickly pulled you back and hit the walker into the door frame. blood and brains dripping from the now dead.. dead guys head. Negan was protecting you left and right now, which only made you confused.
Taking a look outside to view around for anymore close walkers, and when there were none you and Negan quietly ran towards the truck. You didn’t know how to get back to The sanctuary.. You always were following behind a truck that knew where, but you didn’t. “Negan.. Do you remember how to get back?” You looked at Negan and somewhere along the line of when you were checking for walkers and now, Lucille was with him.
He quickly looked at you. “No?! you don’t know?!” He was more nervous sounding than angry. He cursed under his breath. “All I know is we came from that road..” Negan had pointed at the road that you both knew you guys drove down. Starting the truck and driving towards the road. “Those pieces of shit. How could they just leave?!” His hand hit the dash and it made you jump. Negan looked at you before trying to calm down.
—————
It was hours after then and you and Negan had no clue where you guys were. Ending back up at the houses since you’d been marking where they were at least, made you realize that you both were fucked. Your truck was almost out of fuel and it was getting colder. you didn’t dress to be out this long.
Your truck was parked at the side of the road while you and Negan had reentered the looted house from earlier. There was only one blanket that you always kept in your truck just in case.. so you had agreed Negan used it, although it wasn’t much of a debate since you knew Negan wasn’t gonna let you have it.
He was on the bed in the room downstairs and you were on the couch out in the living room. The colder the night got, the more you shivered. Asking Negan for the blanket wouldn’t do anything, but you had to try. Standing up from the couch and taking a slow stroll over to the bedroom, the door was open but you knocked anyways. Negan wasn’t asleep but he was close to being. “What?” Negan said with a quiet, raspy voice, clear on how tired he was.
You took a step into the room. “It’s really cold.. and i was wondering if i could have the blanket..?” Asking Negan a question felt scarier than it should have.
He sat up and faced you. “fuck.. fine. but you’re staying in this room with it in case I want it back.” He agreed and unwrapped the blanket from around himself and threw it at you. You didn’t want to push anything so you wrapped it around yourself and you were going to sit on the floor before Negan spoke up again. “Don’t be an idiot. Get on the bed.” His tone was a low grumble.
You hesitantly sat on the bed next to him, wrapped up in the blanket. At times like these you wish that there were more things to do than sit in silence, but without music, or drawing supplies, no games, it was all very boring. Negan laid down next to you, covering his eyes with his arm.
It was awkward, in the same bed as the guy that you used to think hated you, but now that he saved you twice you weren’t sure. You could feel the annoyance radiating off of him with how he was acting. “You didn’t have to give me it, you know..” You spoke quietly. This made Negan uncover his eyes to look at you.
“My leather jacket is enough to keep me warm, don’t worry about it.” He put out, turning over on his side with an audible groan. You kept sat up for a little while so it didn’t look like you were copying him, until you also laid down. Cuddling up with the blanket as you pretended he wasn’t there, so you could ease your mind into sleep faster.
—————
Waking up in the morning, your blanket was still around you, but you felt another thing on you. You looked over at Negan only to find out his arm had been wrapped around you while you both slept. Maybe Negan accidentally moves a lot in his sleep, and would most likely hate waking up with him touching you at all, so you try to quietly and gently move his arm off of you. What you didn’t expect was his arm to tighten around you. His unconscious form wouldn’t allow you to move his arm off of you.
The only thing you could do was wait for him to wake up. Which obviously took longer than you’d wish. He most likely fell asleep after you then. Waiting for him felt unnecessarily long, because all you were doing was lying there silent and still. Probably ten minutes you were sat there with his arm wrapped around your waist until you felt him move, a small noise coming out of him as he finally took his arm off of you and sat up completely. To not make it seem like you were awake, you waited a little longer. He got up and walked out of the room, which made it perfect for you to finally ‘wake up.’
The blanket you used, you left on the bed. You didn’t need it as much anymore since it was day and it would get warmer out. Walking out of the room a minute after Negan did, you saw him looking out the window. “Hey Negan.” You said getting a little closer. He turns around to look at you.
“Hmm?” He hummed and looked back out the window. “Hi?” He questioned why you asked, understandably so since you guys usually never talked.
“Do you think they’ll come back for us?” Your question made Negan clench his jaw and face you again.
He looked at you for what felt like forever before he finally answer. “They better.” Was all Negan came up with. You noticed that he was getting upset, so you took that as a sign to shut up. You looked out the window as well to see what Negan happened to be looking at. There wasn’t anything out there, must have been just hoping for them to come back.
Negan and you were waiting around almost the entire day doing nothing. Since the saviors that so rudely left you took almost everything from the houses nearby there was next to nothing to actually do. You ventured into the other houses but again, all were looted by the people who left you. No sign of them even coming back yet.
You were outside laying in the grass looking up at the sky that was slowly getting darker. Negan was standing by you, you couldn’t tell if he was watching you or just watching for anything in general.
“you look dumb.” Negan spoke up, looking down at you. Which made you look up at his direction.
“I don’t see you finding anything to pass the time.” You glared, although not really fun it’s better than nothing.
Negan nods, “Yeah, and i don’t see any food on the table either, so maybe help me find some before it’s too late?” His statement made you stand up and wipe your clothes from any collected dirt.
Looking over at him, his eyes were closed. “Yeah? and how do you expect to find food? we’re not hunters.” Your statement made his eyes open. (Daryl randomly appears and hands them squirrels -Ray)
Negan stared at you for what felt like minutes yet again. His eyes weren’t only on your own, but seemed to go up and down, what felt like judgement. “I mean if they don’t come back, we’ll need to find food somehow.” Negan finally broke the silence.
“Well no duh Negan, we aren’t just gonna let ourselves starve??” Your hands go up as you shrug, annoyed. Negan’s eyes went to the ground. You sighed. “Well if we can’t hunt, since we both don’t know how i assume, how do you expect us to find food?” You said, a more logical reply.
Negan looks around. “We’ve only been around the houses we’ve already taken from, we can move out more. See if there’s anything around?” His question was reasonable, probably the most reasonable thing he’s said all day.
You walk over to the truck, which has Negan following you. As you both get in the truck and you start it, you don’t really know where to go from here. So basically the rest of the day was spent driving around. Not much talking happened yet again between the two of you, like two kids that hate eachother but the teacher paired you up anyways.
“Stop.” Negans voice was heard suddenly which made you stomp on the breaks. More or less the sudden noise scared you. “Jesus christ not that fucking’ fast!” He glared at you for your abrupt stop.
“You said stop randomly, what would you have done?!” You glared back at him. Negan ignored your comment and got out of the truck. Were you to follow him?
Hoping out of the truck to see why Negan had left, was a mistake because he started taking a piss. You sighed and walked back to the truck. He could have at least told you why, so it wasn’t weird that you followed him. Negan noticed but said nothing. You looked around the place Negan has forced you to stop at, seeing if there was anything other than woods… there wasn’t.
As you make it back to the houses from earlier.. yet again.. you found nothing nearby. Your truck was almost out of fuel, and you didn’t have any food. If Dwight doesn’t come back soon it’s gonna end up with one of us death, if not both. Making your way back inside had Negan basically pacing. This was the first time you’ve seen him actually nervous.
Walking over to him had him stop and look at you. “Are you.. okay?” Was the only thing you could think to ask. Negan sighed.
Negan nodded and began to pace again. Although you could tell he was lying, he also wanted to be seen as a ‘fearless leader.’ So of course he’d pretend. “Those fuckers left us, and they didn’t even come back!” He exclaimed, as if you didn’t know what was happening. You came up to his pacing self yet again and gently grabbed his arm to get him to quit pacing.
He stopped and looked down at you. “It’s just us. You don’t have to pretend you’re alright.” You quietly said. This made Negan let out yet another sigh.
“Okay, I’m not fine, alright?” He was still looking down at you, and your hand was still holding onto his arm. “How can i be a leader when my group isn’t with me!” He sounded frustrated.
“I’m still here.” You said which made Negans facial expressions soften. “You’re still my leader, Negan.” With what you said made Negan finally break the eye contact.
You both stayed silent, in the same position for a minute. “As much as I love being a leader, with only one follower it’s not easy.” He finally spoke up. It was your turn to sigh.
Your arm gently slid down his arm to his hand. “As much as you seem to hate me, be annoyed by me, even hate being around me. You’re not alone here.” You paused, he didn’t seem to pull away from your touch at all. “We’ll make it back to the sanctuary, you’ll be your usual leader self again. You can go back to hating me then, but for now, instead of treating me like you can’t stand being around me, let me help. Talk to me.” You spilled out what you’ve wanted to say all day. It was dumb to say half of the stuff you just said, but you had to tell him. You couldn’t stand seeing him pretend to be okay while he’s clearly frustrated and nervous. He’s your leader, and for him to be one he needs someone to follow him. You will be that someone.
Negan was speechless as he looked back up at you. You stared at eachother for minutes before he finally said something. “I never hated you.” This caught you by surprise. He paused. “You being one of the best saviors had made me nervous. That maybe someday you’d think you’re better than i was, so i avoided you.” His eyes fluttered closed, and his face scrunched up as he paused yet again. “You were always one of the best, ever since you joined the group. And it’s not an excuse for me to have been such an asshole towards you after all you’ve done for me. I’m supposed to be your leader, but i’ve treated you like absolute shit.” His voice became shaky when he finished. His eyes opened again.
You didn’t know how to reply at first, I mean what could you even say to all of that. You thought of anything else you wanted to say, about you two, or about how he felt. “Negan..” You whispered his name so he’d look at you. “I let you lead me because you’re a good leader. Even if i thought you hated me the entire time, everyone has a reason for a wall to be built up. To hide certain people away. I never once doubted you as a leader, because I know I couldn’t lead. especially not as many people as you do.” This made you both squeeze eachother hand. You wanted to continue but you didn’t originally know how do you waited until words came to mind or Negan spoke.
Without a word from either of you Negan opened his mouth to speak. “I didn’t only build up a wall for you because i thought you’d take my place. There was something about you that i noticed right away.” He paused. His body turned to face you more directly. “I saw how brave you were, how you could defend yourself, and i wanted you in my team. But when i got you.. I messed up. I’d have been better to you if I didn’t think the way I did, or feel the way I do.” He seemed like he wanted to say something specific but he couldn’t.
You rubbed at his hand. “Negan, take your time. We’ve got plenty..” This small remark made you both smile softly. Negan just nodded.
His eyes closed for a moment before he looked directly into your eyes. “After my late wife died, i thought i wouldn’t like anyone. I was wrong.” Negans voice was quiet but firm, whatever he was getting at meant something. The fact that he mentioned the one person he swore to never mention.. made this even more emotional for the both of you. “What i’m trying to get at here y/n… is that I think I might like you. And that’s why I wanted to act like I hate you, to hide the fact I fell for someone after Lucille.” His eyes never left yours, so yours didn’t leave his.
You stared at eachother for moments until you felt your cheeks heating up. How did you feel about Negan? He was rude but you always like him.. “Negan.. I can’t say I like you yet. But i’m willing to try.” Your reply made Negan smile, and go to hug you. As you were hugging for what felt like forever you heard tricks outside. Which made Negan hide you behind him as he looked out the window. It was the familiar trucks, The saviors were back.
Getting back to The Snactaury, you and Negan got to finally explore what was talked about when alone in that house together.
TAG LIST!
@pinchofhoney
@starstruck-loner
@rome-writes21
#jeffrey dean morgan#negan#negan smith#the walking dead negan#twd negan#jdm#jdmorgan#negan smith x reader#negan x female reader#negan x male reader#negan/reader#negan and reader#negan x you#negan twd#negan x reader#negan imagine#negan fanfiction#negan x y/n#negan smith x you#negan smith x y/n#jeffreymorgan
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730 DAYS | daryl dixon [coming soon]
“we protect our people. we’ll protect you–i’ll protect you.”
“don’t make promises you can’t keep, daryl dixon.”
summary: 2 years since you’ve been trapped with the saviors as one of negan’s many wives, and 2 weeks since you’ve made your escape into the world of the living dead, anticipating whatever fate awaits you; but when you meet unlikely hero, daryl dixon, he saves you and brings you to alexandria. it’s a paradise you’ve longed for, but how long will this freedom last until negan finds you?
pairings: daryl dixon x f!reader
warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, sexual assault, mentions of noncon, use of deadly weapons, fluff, angst, murder, slow burn-ish, strong language, torture, decapitation, s6-11, 18+, minors dni.
author’s note: so i started watching twd again, which i haven’t watched in years but now that i’m a grown woman i’ve been feigning for daryl lmao, he’s so fine idcidcidc.
000
#daryl x reader#daryl x female reader#daryl dixon#daryl x y/n#daryl x you#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixion x reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x female reader#the walking dead x reader#the walking dead x you#the walking dead x y/n#the walking dead#negan smith#negan x reader#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixion smut#daryl dixon angst#the walking dead fanfiction#daryl fluff#daryl dixon fic#daryl dixon fluff#daryl angst#daryl smut#the walking dead smut#the walking dead fic
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humiliation
Negan x Reader
Summary: Negan makes an example of you.
Setting: Sanctuary (KingDick!Negan era)
Warnings: DUBIOUS consent (see how big those letters are? I mean it), public humiliation, degradation, forced nudity, unprotected piv, poorly written SMUT
Word Count: 2.6k
A/n: this is really skirting the line between dubcon and noncon so please be warned. Reader is into it but Negan really doesn’t give a shit.
18+ mdni
masterlist
“What the hell?” Not a very polite greeting, but you’re confused. It’s not often you get a room call from a Savior.
“Come on. Boss wants you.” He says curtly, his tone making it obvious that he’s not going to answer any of your questions.
“Why?” You ask anyway, you're cautious to leave your room. “Negan? Wants me?”
“Yup, and you better not make him wait.” A knot of anxiety twists itself in your stomach as you take two small footsteps into the hallway and close your door. What the hell could he want me for?
Your mind flashes to a dozen different possibilities but they’re all shattered as the Savior guiding you takes a left instead of a right towards Negan's quarters. “Wait, wh-where are we going?”
You can hear him scoff from in front of you, “Where we go when Negan wants to make an example. The furnace.”
“Wait, WHAT?!” You immediatly start backtracking, trying to run. You have no idea what he could possibly want to punish you for, or whatever, but you didn’t want to find out.
Your chaperone quickly grabs you before you start running, pushing you through the rest of the way.
✨🦇
You don’t remember writing Negan a letter, but the handwriting sure looked like yours (after a few drinks). This letter? Currently being waved in front of your face by Negan himself. You try to read what you’d written, scour your brain for the memory of why you’d have done that. You were drunk. Obviously. But why?!
Arms held back by a Savior, you take a second to look around the room. Surveying just how many people were here to watch him humiliate you. You try to cycle through possibilities, were you about to get the iron? Something worse? Your thinking stops as Negan clears his throat and begins to read. “Dear Negan,” he shoots you a look, smiling, “I’m drunk, so I’m sorry if this message is poorly received.” He lets out a slow droning laugh before continuing, his voice projected loud for everyone in the room to hear it, “but I think the whole ‘wives’ thing is stupid.” You wince at the words. Oh. Shit.
You feel the arms holding you let you go only to be replaced by a bigger force. Negan, standing behind you. Overtop of you. Both arms around you like a cage, he moves his face flush against yours and brings the letter up to both of your lines of sight. His voice is still loud and booming even though he’s now directly next to your ear, “Maybe, if you gave me a chance - you wouldn’t have the need for five fillies in your stable.”
Your face burns hot, you’ve never in your life felt so much shame. The fear rattling your bones, Negan doesn’t move for awhile, reveling in your shaking body beneath him. He noses his way through your hair to your ear where he whispers through gritted teeth, “and it’s signed ‘lol’.”
Oh. Shit.
He firmly grasps your cheeks between his gloved fingers, making your lips mash together uncomfortably as he puts you on display, “This shit here?!” He holds up the letter before throwing it to the side and into the furnace, “Un-fucking-acceptable!”
He finally lets you go, kicking one of your knees out and putting you on the ground. On your hands and knees for the whole Sanctuary as he circles around you like a fucking shark. The display of ego and importance was usually something you enjoyed watching. There was a reason you wrote the note after all. But, here, now? You couldn’t remember why you’d ever found it attractive. He was absolutely fucking terrifying.
“Took me a while to figure out what to do with you.” The volume of his voice has significantly decreased but the force behind it hasn’t. You can’t even look up, but he continues without a response from you, “But I thought Hey! What if she’s right?!” You can hear the smile in his voice, feel his warm presence as he squats down on the ground next to you to gauge your reaction, but his words hardly register.
“I said ‘What if you’re right’, doll?” He speaks in a softer voice directly to you, eyes still trained on the ground, but clearly he’s expecting a response.
You don’t have one inside of you, way too afraid to speak. You’re hardly even breathing. His question was a trick. You know any response from you could only make this worse, so you just shake your head.
He chuckles, cocking his head to the side, “What? You’re gonna be shy now?!” His voice gets louder with every word until it echos through the silent hall. He’s starting to get pissed off. Negan assumed the girl who wrote this letter? Maybe she’d have put up some kind of fight. But this was pathetic.
In a blink he’s behind you again, pulling you to your feet by your hair. He continues pulling until you’re on your tippy-toes, back against his chest, neck craned over his shoulder. He pushes his hips forward as your body falls back against his, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you even tighter into him. Feeling his erection pulse, trapped between your ass and his body, you gasp.
“You think you’re real fuckin special, don’chya?” He grinds himself against your lower back, speaking to you and the rest of the room. “What? Your pussy is such a prize that you think you can disrespect my wives?” He laughs, taking your cheeks in his hand again, holding your head still while he kisses you softly on the temple.
“Oh, I’m gonna need you to prove it.” It’s a whisper, just for you, while he smiles into your hair. The fear, slowly being overtaken by something stronger, sits on your nerves like a minefield. Still there, but… Jesus Christ this was absolutely not the time to be turned on. That’s exactly what he wanted, right? To turn you on and humiliate you in front of everyone?
Everytime everyone stands in a circle in this room? The lesson Negan is trying to teach is fear. And obviously he was trying to show everyone that they can’t just go and disrespect his wives and his lifestyle like you had. If he had any hint that you were liking this, he would only draw it out more. Embarrass you further.
So when he asks you to prove it, you shake your head, like you know you’re supposed to.
“It wasn’t a question.” He says, his mouth down at your ear again, his breath hot against your skin. You don’t have time to register it before he pulls back away from you and pulls your shorts and underwear down off your hips and to your knees, using his boot to push them the rest of the way. His hand in your hair is the only thing keeping you standing.
You try to cover up with your hands, but Negan tuts from beside you, “Dwight, tell the lady what happens if she tries to skirt around this punishment?”
“Said he’d kill ya.” Dwight says it like it’s a fact, and the fear shoots through you again.
The shame burning up every part of you as you will your hands back to your sides. “Good girl,” he whispers against your head again. Your eyes are sewn shut, hands curling up into fists, your fingernails breaking the skin. Bare from the waist down in front of at least a hundred people. A lot of them you knew. And what’s worse? If he keeps talking to you in that fucking voice into your fucking ear they were all going to see what it did to you.
You’re horrified, but it’s not even close to over. Negan kicks your feet apart, legs spread and the humiliation is overwhelming. He moves his hand from your hair to back around your waist, he leans over you, his other hand venturing it’s way down your body.
“What's so special about this pussy anyway?” You feel two gloved fingers part your folds and shoot inside you with no warning. Crying out at the feeling, your knees buckle but Negan keeps you in place against him. You don’t know what to do with your hands, as he pumps inside of you with his leather clad fingers, you feel the moan start to build in your throat.
Don’t moan, don’t moan, don’t. You’re biting your lip, fingers flexing and releasing as you try to still your shaking body. But he’s in there so deep, just curling his fingers into that spot, over and over. Your hips angle up to meet his hand involuntarily and he pulls out of you, laughing.
“You can pretend all you want, I can feel how much you like this,” another whisper, just for you. Fuck.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He shouts, shoving the same gloved fingers in your mouth. You try to fight back against him, everything in your body telling you that if he keeps going, you won’t want to fight anymore. And it’s horrifying and embarrassing and really, when your body tenses up in his grasp, you’re fighting against yourself. And how much you’re enjoying what he’s doing to you in front of everyone.
He holds you still, grunting against the struggle. Dwight moves in like he’s going to help but Negan motions him back, “Nah, I got this, Dwighty-boy. See, this one here? She’s pretending she don’t like it. But she does.” His voice is sing-song. Confident and twisted and sardonic.
“Isn’t that right, doll?” He grinds himself against you much harder than he’d done before and your ensuing moan, the way your body rolls back into the feeling, your facial expression - all of it completely betraying you. You stop fighting, trying to put your hands up to your face to hide your shame, but he pulls them behind you and starts walking you forward.
Your eyes shoot up, where was he taking you? The crowd parts, and you make eye contact with several people before you see it. A table. You’re 6 inches from barreling into it and with no way to brace yourself you instinctually pull against Negan’s hands restraining your own. He lets go of you completely, your arms shoot out to catch your fall. They do, just barely. The sting against your skin from the hard wood is felt through your arms, and your cheek that had just lightly kissed the table.
You go to push yourself back up, but you're slammed back down into the table chest first. Negan's palm flat against your back as he holds you there. “Dwight, tell the girl again!”
“He said he’d kill ya, I’d believe him if I were you. Don’t see why you’re even fighting,” he laughs, a few of the other saviors laugh too.
He moves his hand from your back to your head, holding you in place against the table, as he leans down close again, “They’re laughing because you’re fuckin leaking for me, doll.” Your eyes glance up to see him taking his glove off with his teeth. His bare hand finding its way to your cunt in seconds, coating it in your juice before slapping your pussy twice. You can hear how wet you are, the whole fucking room can hear it.
He sinks his fingers into you again, and the warmth from his bare skin has you reeling inwards. Your forehead goes down to the table, slamming your eyes shut once again. Your whole soaked pussy on display when he pulls his dripping fingers out of you. He hooks them into your cheek as he moves behind you.
You can’t hear him unbuckling his belt, or unzipping his pants, over your own heartbeat. Your whole body is burning red as you feel his cock pushing up against your heat. He leans down over top of you, one hand pulling your head back by your hair, the other holding himself at the base and lining himself up to your entrance; “We’re gonna give ‘em a real good show. Then…,” he slams into you, all the way to the hilt causing you to cry out, “you’re gonna beg me to be my wife.”
His pace is completely unrelenting. Sliding into you with ease, your pussy seemingly ready and enjoying such an assault. It had been so long since you’d had someone pound into you with such passion. That’s what you liked about Negan in the first place. The passion, the power, the control. The complete domination over those around him. You’d never met someone who wore narcissism so fuckin’ well.
His fingers slowly move from your hair and your back to your hips. Pushing you down into hard edge of the table as he watches his cock disappear into you over and over again. Maybe you do have a magic pussy, or maybe it’s the thrill of the situation, but damn is he having a great time fucking you senseless in front of all of these horrified people. Well, some of them were impressed, and even more of them were secretly enjoying the show. It was obvious to anyone watching that you weren’t really unwilling; just completely embarrassed to be doing it so publically.
You stopped trying not to moan, your breathe coming out in strangled gasps. He pulls you up against his body and fucks up and into you more slowly, holding your face to the crowd. “Look,” he whispers in your ear, “Look at how many people are watching me fuck you stupid.”
Your body shudders at his words, your hips shaking in his grasp. He laughs, and kisses your shoulder sweetly, “Are you going to cum all over my cock in front of all these people, sweetheart? How embarrassing.”
You just nod, it’s coming too fast for you to stop it, his words having spurred you even further. “Hold on,” he commands, letting your body fall back to the table. You do as your told and hold on to the edge.
You didn’t think Negan could possibly be more unrelenting on your walls but you were wrong. He bends his legs and fucks into you at an angle you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. Your knuckles turn white, and the sound coming from you echos in the spacious room. Something between groan and a scream builds, Negan coaxes from behind you, “That’s it, baby girl, cum all over my cock. Show them how good I take care of my girls.”
If you weren’t right there his words might have turned you off, but it’s too late. It rips through you with a guttural scream. Every muscle so tense you’re shaking, Negan fucks you through it at first before burying himself so deep his cock head is kissing your cervix. You try to move away but he keeps you there, wanting to feel every second of your orgasm around his throbbing member.
Your drift back to reality isn’t pleasant. You thought shame like this was reserved for Catholics, and yet here you are. He pulls out of you and puts himself away while you sink to the cold concrete floor in front of the table. He doesn’t even finish. That motherfucker.
He was right, though, wasn’t he? Because you wanted more. And if being his wife was the only way? Like he’s reading your mind he bends down, toothy smile cracked on his face like always, “You wanna beg me now, or later?”
A/n: I loved writing this and I’ll see myself out. (ANONS REQUEST MORE THINGS I MORALLY SHOULDNT WRITE ABOUT)
#negan twd#negan the walking dead#negan#negan smith#negan x reader#negan fanfiction#negan x you#jdm#jeffrey dean morgan#negan x y/n#negan x fem!reader
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I have this scenario in my head where Daryl and Reader have had a slow burn romance since Quarry, dancing around each other and their feelings but finally getting together at the prison. But because it’s Daryl’s first relationship, it’s slow. He’s shy, it’s unknown territory for him and the most the ever get to do within their relationship is sleepovers in each other’s cells and makeout sessions that never went further.
It’s something new, blossoming and innocent. Then they get to Alexandria and the only way Reader can get Daryl to shower is with them, and so they shower together and it’s all innocent and sweet, taking their relationship a step further. Then! (No I’m not done 😈)
Their first time ends up being a couple days or so before the huge hoard comes hurdling toward Alexandria. And it’s so intimate, slow and vulnerable of them with Reader telling Daryl they love him whilst he’s buried in them and it makes it all the more romantic. So after that it’s shy smiles and lingering gazes about finally doing the thing they’ve wanted to for so long…before chaos insues and the wall comes down and Negan and yea! 🤣
I don’t know why but this is how I’ve imagined Daryl’s first time to be with someone!!! I think it would take a while for him to really go all the way with his partner but between walkers and constant trouble, it would be quite far and few between. Also considering how he goes hunting and recruiting in Alexandria 🤷♀️
I totally agree with you, this is absolutely how it would go and I love gentle Daryl.
Now… I’m not going to try write this like a proper fic because I really don’t think I can do it justice but I’ll give my detailed thoughts??? Is that a thing??? I’m so sorry anon😭.
Warnings: cream pie, p in v, mentions of scars, mentions of premature ejaculation, ummm I think that’s it ❤️
18+, mdni!!
Darylxfem!reader
Sleepovers and making out in each-others cell… your cell because Daryl doesn’t have one . The first time, it’s very teenager-ish, facing each-other, sat crossed legged. You guide the first kiss, holding his jaw as you first give him a peck and you can feel his skin heat up under your palm. You pull away and his eyes are darting around the mattress, shy to make eye contact. You push his hair away from his face and he finally looks up, his eyes look needy but nervous.
“Would you like to kiss me, Daryl?” Straight to the point but with a soft voice is how you speak.
He nods but makes no advance so you guide his hand to your cheek and eventually he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. He gives you another peck but then to your surprise, kisses you again, tilting his head slightly. He’s messy and sloppy with it, he has no clue what he’s doing but you don’t care, Daryl’s perfect and you’ll let him kiss however he likes, lord knows if you tell him he’s not doing it right he won’t try again, he’d feel humiliated.
You part your lips, inviting him to start using his tongue and as soon as he notices, he pulls away. You assume it’s too much too fast and that’s completely okay. You’re about to tell him that you can stop but he speaks first.
“Ain’t dun it b’fore… dun know how ta… uh… do the… tongue part”
His face is glowing red now and he can’t look at you.
“That’s okay, you don’t have to, we can stop for now if you like”
Daryl shifts his legs so that they uncross, one folded and the other hanging off the edge of the bed with his foot planted on the cool ground, he scoots his hips back too. Your eyes travel down to where his body subtly squirms and you can just about see his arousal that he’s trying to hide with this new position and you smirk.
“Did you… want me to show you how?”
Daryl nods a little too eagerly than he’d like to admit but you take quick action, leaning in for him to kiss you, you put your thumb on his chin to pull gently so he parts his lips timidly, giving you the chance to run your tongue against his lips and then push your tongue gently against his own. You move your lips in a timely rhythm that Daryl easily matches and you make out. It’s still sloppy but it’s incredible, especially when you notice Daryl getting a little breathless, his hips keep twitching slightly.
After a good amount of time, you pull away and he exhales deeply through his wet and kiss-swollen lips.
“I liked that”, you whisper as you smooth his hair over.
He replies with a shy nod, he definitely enjoyed it, if he had to be honest, he was way too close to cumming in his pants, but that’s as far as it’s gonna go for now, until Daryl says he’s ready for more. You reassure him that everything can be at his pace and he doesn’t need to feel guilty or silly for being ‘late to the game’.
After that first time, the two of you would have make out sessions every night that you could, pretty much always ending in your panties being uncomfortably wet and Daryl having to wait out a painful erection or sneak off to the showers to take care of himself if it was late enough but he didn’t really like doing that, he felt like it was disrespectful toward you.
After the prison fell, it felt like Daryl put your relationship on the back burner. You understood, he was stressed and scared but wouldn’t show it. He stopped talking to you like you were his girl and more like a partner in crime and it hurt but you tried not to make it a big thing.
Daryl felt guilty, he knew he was being dismissive of your relationship but there was so much in his head that he just couldn’t, he didn’t wanna mess anything up and he was scared so he did what he knows best, he pulled away.
He continues on this way for a while, even after Beth had gone, you really tried to get through to him because you knew he was in pain but he wouldn’t break. You knew he’d gone off into the trees to cry and although you wanted to be the one he cried to, you were glad that he knew well enough that he had to get it out.
When Daryl had come back to tell the group about the barn he’d found, he didn’t look your way, he knew that you knew and he couldn’t take the guilt. He knew you wanted to be there for him and he was pushing you away but he didn’t know how to stop.
Before the storm hit the barn, you were sat with your back to the wall, knees drawn to your chest when Daryl quietly sat next to you, shifting so his shoulder touched yours. His hand made its way next to yours on the hay-scattered ground and his pinkie linked with yours without words. It felt like a breath of fresh air, now you knew that he was aware, he was aware you were feeling left out from what was going on with him.
His voice was whispery and low when he spoke.
“M’sorry y/n… gon’ try harder…”
You took his hand fully into your own and bring it to your lips to kiss it, the kiss silently saying that you appreciate him, you believe him, you trust him.
As soon as the group integrates into Alexandria, you feel Daryl become more attentive and clingy. He’s uncomfortable within the community at first, even when the group finally gets out in separate houses, Daryl doesn’t come to bed with for the first week, he sleeps on the couch like a guard dog. He’s so anxious about your safety that he just cannot relax.
However, after that first week, you manage to coax him to share the bed with you and… he’d never admit it but he slept like a baby, his mess of hair sprawled across his face with his head rested on your chest. The closeness felt good but the pang of guilt still hasn’t left, feeling as if he simply doesn’t deserve any of this but then he opens his eyes to your face and he just… he doesn’t care, he wants to deserve this, he wants to be part of this if this is how he gets to live.
So he’s happy when he’s given a job by Aaron Raleigh, he’s happy when he’s out scouting and scavenging and he’s most happy when he can bring you back something from a trip. A stone, a flower, a figurine, anything that makes you say “thank you my love”. He leaves notes in the mornings when he leaves too early to say good bye and he kisses your forehead when he comes home. He feels it growing, the feeling in his chest and he just wants to be with you in every way.
Since before you’d found Alexandria, the sexual frustration between the two of you was obvious and it was getting to be too much for the two of you. It was at the point where Daryl would be on a run with Aron and without realising, his mind would wander to how your body would feel against his, how your hands would feel on his skin that nobody had touched before, how he hoped he could make you feel good… god he just wants to know what you look like when you cum. He knows that you must touch yourself, especially after the amount of times he’d cut make out sessions short, practically leaving you hanging and he felt guilty for not going the whole way, but now he felt ready and quite frankly, his hand wasn’t doing the trick anymore.
One day, after a particularly tiring recruitment mission with Aaron, Daryl had returned home, sweaty and more frustrated than he’d ever been. He could feel that he was leaking and he felt humiliated that he had been that way for half the day since you’d been stuck in his head.
He entered through the front door of your shared house, quickly dropping his crossbow and kicking his boots off. He pretty much speed walked up the stairs and stopped the door of your bedroom. He knocked of course, it was his room too but he respected your privacy as you would do the same. He waited a few seconds before he lifted his hand to knock again but then the door opened, he nearly punched you square in the face.
Your eyebrows raised and then you giggled.
“Eager to see me?” You smiled, and scanned his body quickly and he did the same to you.
You were stood in just a towel wrapped around you, your hair wet.
“Did ya get out the shower to answer the door? M’sorry, didn’t mean to make ya cut it short, know ya enjoy em…”
Your eyes linger on his crotch and then flicker back to his eyes, his situation was obvious but you weren’t exactly sure why he was worked up down there. Maybe he was feeling just as pent up as you.
“No, no, don’t apologise, I was getting out as you knocked” you move to the side, giving him space to enter into your homely bedroom.
He stepped past you and took a few steps toward the bed and just stood awkwardly, shifting his feet subtly, trying to make his obvious erection not-so obvious. He moved his hands in front of his crotch to try and hide it but now it was more obvious, Daryl never stands like that.
“You alright, D?”
Daryl looks at his feet for a beat then back up to you and nods, he’s so fucking shy. Why? You’ve been together for so long now, why can’t he just say he’s going insane because he wants to be in you, he wants to love you in every possible way.
You walk over to him, sitting on the bed and pulling on his arm so he sits beside you. You know what’s going on, of course you know, you always do, can always see right through him.
“So… is there something you want to talk about sweetheart?… you know you don’t gotta knock, right? This is our home…”
Daryl nods, but now you’re not entirely sure what he’s agreeing to.
“Was thinkin’ bout ya all day today… well… every day... for a while now an’… I thought I should tell ya tha’… um… I can’t- I dun-…”
You chuckle softly then squeeze his shoulder, sensing that he was getting all caught up in his head as usual.
“Daryl? Relax huni… can ya tell me what you’re meanin’? Whatever it is, ya don’t gotta be afraid, okay?”
It’s that soft smile that brings him back to earth, making him feel like nothing he could say could be wrong. He takes a deep breath and quickly gathers himself and his courage.
“I… I wan’ be with ya… like… ya know, I need ya in the way I ain’t had ya yet… I have for a while but I been scared to say ‘cause… ain’t never dun’ ‘at b’fore but I dun… I dun think I can wait no more”
He takes a deep breath and then finally looks up at you, straight into your loving and understanding eyes.
“Okay” is all you reply with.
“…Okay?” He asks.
“Daryl, do you have any idea how badly I need you? How torturous it is to watch you get dressed every morning? Those fucking arms flexing with every movement and that fucking hair framing that pretty fucking face.”
Daryl stares at you silently, bewildered.
“Sorry… you’re just so beautiful to me Daryl… and I’ve been feeling the same, probably for a lot longer than you have so… yes. And it don’t matter ya ain’t done it before Darlin’, we can take it slow, or at whatever pace you want”
You take his hand in yours and bring it to your lips and kiss it. You’re sure that by this point, your mans situation must be starting to feel a little painful so you quickly move to kiss at his jaw and then his lips, softly holding the side of his face. Daryl whimpers a little, his hips involuntarily twitching upwards like they always do but this time you were gonna make him feel good.
You pull away from the kiss and move your hand to his belt.
“May I?”
He nods.
“Need your words, Dixon.”
“Yes, you can…”
You make quick work of undoing his belt and then the buttons on his jeans, you can feel how hard he is just beneath the fabric and you can tell that even just the feeling of you unbuttoning his pants is enough as he has his face in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily against your soft skin. Once they’re undone, he lifts his hips from the bed and pushes them fully off, leaving them in a puddle on the carpet. He finds some confidence somewhere within him and he caresses your jaw and leans in to kiss you. It’s the neediest kiss he ever given but he’s not as sloppy as he used to be, he’s a great kisser now and you can feel yourself getting wet.
Your fingers fiddle with the first few buttons of his shirt to get them undone and he pulls from the kiss. You know why, you’ve seen the scars before but this is different, you know how scary this must be for him. You see a flash of humiliation in his otherwise love drunk eyes and you give him a reassuring smile.
“I know baby, I know… you don’t need to feel ashamed or nervous, I promise to handle you with care but it’s your call… on or off?”
He stares into your eyes then looks down at your fingers on the buttons of his dark grey shirt.
“Off… want ta.”
And with that you unfasten the rest of the buttons, pushing the fabric off his shoulders and he shrugs it off, leaving him in just his underwear. He goes back to kissing you and you place his calloused hands on the edge of your towel, he quickly gets the message and he pulls at it and it drops, revealing your soft skin to his gaze. He drags his pupils across your bare chest, taking in the sight of your perky breasts, and without even a second though, his palm is covering one of them, kneading gently before he drags his thumb across your stiffened nipple and he lets out a shaky exhale as you make a small whimpering sound.
“So pretty… my girl…”
Your cheeks redden, you know you’re all his but when he says it out loud it feels good, possessive, and you like that.
You push the towel off of you, letting it join his clothes on the floor. That’s when you glance at his bulge in his boxers. A considerable expanse just below the waist band is pretty much soaked from his intense arousal. You run your hand along his thigh and you can see his cock twitch beneath the fabric, a new bead of precum soaking through the cotton.
“Shall we get these off, baby?”
You didn’t expect it but as soon as you said that, he had his thumbs hooked under the waist band and was dragging them down his thighs, his dick slapping against his lower tummy, his pink tip shiny with precum.
When he stood up to kick them off his feet, you scoot to the middle of the mattress, laying on your back with your knees up.
When Daryl looked back, he visibly shivered at the sight of your glistening folds, all for him, he can quite believe his luck with a woman like you.
You sense him getting caught in his thoughts again so you reach your hand out to him which he takes and then you lead him to sit on his knees in front of you. Then he leans over you, his elbows either side on your head as his face comes down to yours, your lips connecting once again.
You’ve waited long enough now, you buck your hips up, causing his throbbing cock to rub against the fold between your thigh and your pussy. He lets out a low groan then his left arm shifts down so his hand can grab at your hip and hold you still.
“Don’t… don’t do that sugar…”
You whimper at his subtle display of dominance and ultimately hold still like he asked.
“M’gon’ get to it, sweet girl”
He gives you one last kiss before sitting back on his heels and pulling you closer by your thighs so your legs are now either side of his hips.
“Please” is all you can get out of your mouth as his eyes fixate on your dripping arousal.
“You’re so beautiful, y/n… I love you… so much”
He said it, he meant it.
Tears almost brims your eyes.
“I love you too, Daryl… so much”
He squeezes your thigh as he smirks a little then letting go to grip the base of his cock. Running it against your folds and pressing the tip to your clit.
“Need you, Daryl… please”
“I know baby, I know”
You’re a bit stunned at this newfound dominant side to your lover, maybe its because of his desperation but you don’t have much time to ponder over it because then he’s pushing the tip into your tight entrance.
“Fuck, y/n… you’re so tight Darlin’”
You whine loudly, “y-you’re so big… shit…”
He strokes some hair off your face and looks at you with care.
“Need me to stop?”
“No! For christ sake, don’t fucking stop”
He chuckles at your profanity, for a girl who’s usually so soft and sweet, you can be demanding when you want to be.
He slowly pushes all the way in, his breath shaky, he knows he won’t last long, it’s his first time after all but he can already feel you clenching around him.
He pulls out half way and then thrust back in with a deep moan. He watches how your eyes squeeze shut as you try to adjust to his size and the your face turns to pleasure as he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit.
“Daryl… Daryl…”
He starts up a steady rhythm with his hips, pumping his cock into your wet heat.
“Wanna watch you cum baby… cmon…”
You bite your lip at his words, feeling the heat spread in your lower tummy and then he starts to rub his thumb in circles on your swollen nub.
“M’close... I’m… gonna…” you practically mumble out these words.
“Me too, sugar… cum for me… fuck…”
He kisses your neck as your walls clench around him as you reach your climax, clawing at his shoulders and thats enough for Daryl. His balls draw up tight as he lets out a whimpery moan, shooting his thick, hot cum into you in fast spurts.
He continues to rock into you a few more times before he falls limp on top of you then slowly rolling onto his back beside you after he pulls out his softening cock.
“Ya okay?” He asks, almost straight back into his shy demeanour.
“Thank you, Daryl” you turn your head to look at him, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and you giggle at the fact that neither of you barely lasted five minutes.
“We both needed it bad, huh?”
He scoffs then gets comfy on his side, giving you a forehead kiss.
After that first night, it was all shy glances and pink cheeks when you crossed paths during the day in Alexandria. Of course carol caught on, as she always does, and teased him relentlessly but was overall ecstatic for him. Most of the group could tell something had changed since Daryl was less snappy and you were more social.
The times after, the both of you managed to last longer than five minutes which Daryl prides himself on and you think that’s adorable. Your relationship only grows stronger, with more trust and understanding, as well as uncovering some unknown kinks on Daryl’s side and you swear not to tell a soul.
Just realised I completely missed out the quarry part and the shower part but I guess I kinda replaced it with the bed thing, so I’m sorry! But I would guess it would be him pretending to be annoyed by you or something… I hope this is okay!!! I wasn’t sure how to end it 😭
#daryl dixon imagine#the walking dead fanfiction#twd daryl#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl x reader#daryl dixon smut#daryl smut#norman reedus#twd smut
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📰 | part ten: capulet.
info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers, gun violence, father figure! Negan, soooomeeee ooonneee has a crush, teenagers in love.
summary: You tussle with your emotions regarding Carl, whilst Grimes and co pay a surprise visit to the Sanctuary.
omg i’m on fire!!!!! cliffhanger ending……but also next chapter will be similarly juicy so don’t fret! also half-written a carl x reader oneshot/drabble i’ll post soon between chapters :P
i’m so glad you all love my saviour reader story because i am her she is me…….this series is my CHILD i will defend it with my life!
-> masterlist <-
You hadn’t been to Alexandria in, frankly, what felt like years.
It was actually just weeks.
With an alliance between Hilltop, the Kingdom, and Alexandria, things for the Saviours were trickier than ever. Most of the time Negan spent in his office, trying to decode the best play. You helped, of course, and were practically running yourself ragged trying to keep things together at the Sanctuary.
It felt like everyone knew what was happening. Or they expected it, were waiting for it. It irritated you to no end, that others would blatantly show their disbelief in your cause, in Negan’s cause.
And then there was Carl.
You missed him, which was weird. He had become a constant in your life, the arguing and fighting, the pushing and shoving. But now your relationship had crested into something else… and you didn’t hate it.
In fact, you quite enjoyed kissing Carl.
Not that you’d admit that. To him, to anyone. Nobody needed that amount of power over you.
“You can go to bed, doll.”
You looked up from your lap, where a book of supply schedules was scribbled down. You were seated on that long leather couch in Negan’s office, whilst he worked on god knows what. Hopefully a viable strategy.
“No, I’m fine.” You tell him, politely. Too politely.
Truth is, you were hanging on by a thread. But with no supplies from Alexandria, nor Hilltop, the situation at the Sanctuary was becoming dire. You were trying to figure out how to jig things around so that everyone could be satisfied, or maybe even rethinking the points system, making the imaginary economy more competitive.
“I’m serious,” Negan insists, “You don’t gotta be doin’ this shit. It’s below you.”
You roll your eyes, “Who’s gonna do it, then? Simon’s corpse?”
The sarcastic comment earns you a glare in return, which does make you feel a little bad. You’d watched the brawl firsthand, and had almost tried to help Negan, if not for Dwight holding you back. Either way, it didn’t matter, for Simon was eventually strangled to death.
Brutal, but fitting.
Maybe you were trying to fill that void. The line between right-hand man and teenage daughter was thinning.
Negan rose from his seat, coming over to stand in front of you. He didn’t even need to lean down, swiftly plucking the tattered notebook from your lap, to which you groaned and leaned back on the couch.
He inspected it, reading over the numbers and scrawled figures. “You’re doing this wrong.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should start making your wives do the bookkeeping.” You grumbled, laying down on the couch in defeat.
Negan tossed the notebook onto the coffee table, sitting on the couch opposite you. “Doubt they can count past ten.”
It was a terrible thing to say, but got a smile out of you. It was difficult to be in a good mood on so little sleep, so the tiniest hint of happiness was well appreciated.
“When will we go to Alexandria again?”
You tried not to sound too interested in the question, but couldn’t help yourself, and needed to ask. Not for Carl, just for supplies. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
“Soon. Give it another week,” Negan confirmed, though his eyes said he knew something more. “Awfully interested in that shithole, aren’t you?”
This caused you to roll over, onto your side, so you could glare over at the older man. “We need that shithole to survive.”
There was a playful glint on Negan’s face, the words earning a small laugh from him. “Maybe you do. Bet you’re just itchin’ for your little cyclops.”
The joke causes you to bristle, irritation rising as you hoist yourself from the couch, making a play for the door. On such little sleep, you weren’t in the mood to entertain being teased.
But Negan stopped you, that grin still on his face. “Hey, c’mon, doll. You know I’m just tryin’ to rile you up.” He admits, coming to a stand.
The glare remains, but at least you stop your escape, instead just standing near the door with your arms crossed. You’d likely give some defensive retort, but Negan is already speaking again.
“Everyone has their first crush at some point. I’m just surprised it took you this long.”
“I don’t have a crush,” You practically snarl. “I’m not twelve years old.”
“Okay, sorry. Not a crush,” Negan approaches slowly, like you’ll run off again, though is pleased when you stand still. “Sounds like it’s past your bedtime.”
Your nose scrunches up, eyes narrowed in offence as he continues to treat you like a child. But you know he’s just making a point to tease you, judging by that stupid grin on his face, so you try not to react.
His hands bracket your arms, giving you a little spin so that you’re facing the door. But now you sigh, turning back around, unable to just drop this conversation all together.
“You don’t care?” You ask. “Like, if I did have a crush, you don’t even mind? Not that I do, I’m just… wondering.”
Negan smiles, finding your half-confession quite adorable. “That’s what kids do, darlin’. Besides, the boy’s got his head on straight. Certainly got more balls than his father.”
You look down at the floor, a little pensive. “I don’t have a crush on Carl.” You reiterate, standing your ground, trying to sound firm in order to convince the both of you.
He seems to get the hint, understanding that maybe you don’t even know what’s going on. “I know, doll. Don’t stress it too much.” Negan drops the subject, letting his arm encase your back for a small squeeze before letting you go. “Go get some rest.”
You muster up a little smile, finally accepting the offer and scampering back off to bed. After all, you were exhausted, despite that inherent need to make yourself useful. Supply counts could wait.
It was a comforting space, your bedroom, one you retreated to whenever things got overwhelming. It was filled with photos and trinkets, candy stashed away in the drawers, all the things you didn’t have when growing up. It was your space.
That night, you fell asleep weighing the severity of simply going to Alexandria yourself. You passed out a few minutes into debating what transportation to take.
Fortunately, or, probably unfortunately, that wasn’t necessary.
For Alexandria had come to you.
Gunfire was a familiar sound to wake up to. Usually, it was a low-level squabble, or maybe one of the Saviours proving a point. Either way, it never lasted long.
But this time, there was shouting, and more bullets. It was enough to jolt you awake, pushing past that bleary state of consciousness and waiting, still, for it to continue.
It did.
You climbed out of bed with urgency, moving on autopilot as you threw on some jeans, not bothering to change from your sleep tank before bolting for the door.
Just as your fingertips brushed the bat, you realised it wouldn’t do. That gun was still locked away in the bottom drawer, so you reached for it, shoving a handful of bullets into your pocket before leaving.
Now, you’ve never been a very good shot. That’s why you preferred using the bat, or at the very least, hand-to-hand combat. You had terrible aim. But maybe now was the best time to fix that issue.
So, you made your way through the Sanctuary, swiftly stepping through hallways, gun at the ready. You were outside in minutes, the shouting becoming much clearer now, a voice you could recognise:
Rick Grimes.
“Fuck this..” You grumbled, growing irritated with this relentless back and forth. And now, they were in your home.
Another shot blew out the glass from above you, forcing you further against the wall, as the shards piled on the concrete. Some littered your skin, your shoulders bare, due to still wearing a tank intended for sleeping. You didn’t even have a bra on.
But there were worse problems, you supposed.
The gun felt heavy in your hands, fingers twitching around the trigger. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to use it, though that seemed like wishful thinking. You wondered where Negan was, yet believed he could handle himself. You and this gun were the main concern, a gun you had no idea how to use effectively.
You hid behind anything available, crouched down, trying to survey the surroundings. From here, you could see the scattered factions of makeshift soldiers, though Rick was now missing. You presumed he had a similar thought process to you: Negan.
That was fine, for now.
Clutching the gun tightly, you shifted into view, holding it outwards and discharging a shot into the distance. It echoed in the nearby vicinity, though there was too much gunfire to distinguish where it had came from, luckily. It didn’t seem to hit anyone.
What a waste.
“Hey!”
It was a whisper-shout, one clearly intended to gain your attention. You spun your head around, searching for the voice, amongst all the yelling and fighting taking place within your home. It took an embarrassing amount of time until you saw him.
Carl.
Thank fucking god.
He’d been watching you, on alert for your figure the second they arrived. He clocked your creeping approach into the battle field, ducking behind anything possible. It was almost amusing, the stark contrast in how you usually chose to fight, but made sense after you fired that hopeless shot.
You had no idea what was going on, assuming that Negan and Rick were off fighting, whilst a few Saviours tried to keep the rival gang at bay. Or gangs, plural. You guessed that speaking to Carl would be your best chance at getting a grip on the situation. That, and you weren’t in the mood for a defensive Saviour to shoot him.
So, you tried to get closer, looking left and right to make sure the coast was clear before ducking behind rubble or vehicles, anything to provide cover. Carl was used to fighting, sure, but felt slightly anxious for a reason he couldn’t pin. It was just a bad feeling, like something was not right.
This time, Carl called out your name, causing you to look up and at attention. He held out his hand, despite being meters away, a signal to come closer under the cover he’d found.
You clutch the gun tightly, safety off, poised at your side. But it’s difficult to see everyone, from this position, forcing you to inch out from behind the truck in order to get a visual.
Still holding out his hand, Carl waits, watching as you peek your head out.
Pop!
A shot fires, crackling in the distance, though it takes you down with a solid thud.
#carl grimes x reader#the walking dead x reader#negan smith x reader#twd x reader#carl grimes#twd x you#carl grimes x you#the walking dead#negan smith
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“The Son of A Monster.” Ch.5
Masterlist
Warnings; Death, blood, Slow-burn, Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is the Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie apocalypse
<@<3<@<3<@<3<@<3<@<3<@<3
You sharpen your knife, toning out the annoying scrape against the metal. You hummed the song “Do You Remember The Rain.” and peered over the porch to Rick and Michonne talking. They were leaving for something. You weren’t quite sure, but you guessed supply. Your dad will be here in a few days.
Iris was walking down too, drinks in hand and smiling when she looked up. You smiled back and waved, getting up and placing your knife on the railing. “Let me help you.” You said, grabbing the cups from her hand and setting them on the porch steps. You captured her hands and helped her up the stairs, letting her sit in your previous spot.
She held her stomach as she leaned back, groaning slightly. You handed her the drink and sat on the railing. “Why’d you bring the lemonade?” You asked, taking a sip and humming. She shrugged and rubbed her stomach.
“I wanted to.” She paused and sat up. “Start thinking of names.” You coughed and looked at her. She only smiled and raised her eyebrows, handing over a piece of paper. “I get to pick one of their names and you the other.” She said You looked down at the car. It had a line in the middle and on one side, it had two different genders and names.
Baby A
Girl; Nova
Boy; Oliver Rome
You smiled and took out a pen, placing the sheet on the railing before writing down names.
Baby B
Girl; Isha
Boy; Ian?
You gave the card back, and she smiled. “In your shadow.” You said, kissing her cheek. She tucked it into her black sweater and got up.
“I’ll see you later.” She walked off, waving to Carl with a smile when she passed him. Lucky, instead of hating her because she was married to you, (Mostly) everyone Loved her. They thought she was kind, sweet, helpful, and pregnant with twins.
You sighed and plopped back into the seat, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. You looked at your knife and placed it down. You cracked your neck and leaned back, relaxing as you closed your eyes. There was a slight breeze where the opened trees lay and where you sat. You Breathed in the smoke and breathed back out, allowing your nose to smell the tobacco coming out.
The breeze stopped briefly, making you open your eyes and peer at the younger brunette by the stairs. “Carl.” You asked, tilting your head at him.” He hummed and looked over with boredom writing on his face. “You gotta’ look after your sister today?” You questioned, only to get a slight head shake from him as he walked inside.
You sighed, threw your cigarette on the ground, and smashed it, getting up from your seat. “I didn’t just ask for no reason, Carl.” You stated, walking in after him. He turned with one eyebrow raised and took off his hat.
“I don’t feel like doing anything today, Y/n.” He said, brushing through his hair before placing his hat back on his head. You huffed and groaned dramatically, throwing yourself backward and whining like a child.
“Come on! We're supposed to be friends. Do you know what friends do? Trick question.” You asked, walking over to him. He rolled his eyes.
“I only said Yes because you wouldn’t leave me alone,” Carl said, heading upstairs.
“Is that your final answer? If it is, I need you to repeat it, I didn’t catch any of that.” You said, following him once again. He sighed and slammed his room door. You huffed once again and left downstairs.
You went outside, rounded the house, and climbed the side of it, reaching the window where Carl's room was. You banged on in. Carl looked down at you through the window with disapproval. “Let me IN,” You yelled, hanging onto the side of the roof like a cat in a tree. Carl laughed and opened the window.
“You're a dumbass, you know that right?” Carl stated, closing his window when you were finally in. You flipped him off and fixed your shirt. Before he could say anything else, you interrupted him.
“I’m going somewhere, that means your following.” You said, Throwing Carl's shoes at him and unlocking the door.
"Do I have a choice-"-Nope."
You yanked him by his hand and pulled him down the stairs. You picked up your bat and bag as we went to the “escape wall” and climbed over. You felt the slight breeze from the top as you quickly went over the wall and slowly climbed down. Carl then jumped down beside you and huffed, fixing his hat.
“It's rude to huff at people.” You say, smiling at him slightly as you begin to walk into the woods. Carl only huffed louder and more dramatically. You smile and huff louder than him while you turn. “Hush pretty boy.” You said, flicking his hat and walking deeper into the woods.
It was relatively quiet, with few groans here and there. They would stop when you threw a knife at them. You watched the ground as you walked, but still acknowledged the world around you. You glanced at bushes here and there, looked into the mud, and listened to each and every sound.
“Boring.” You whined, huffing at the silence. “You bore me.”
“I’m not a fuckin’ toy,” Carl said, raising his eyebrow. You raised your arms in defense and laughed. Carl raised an eyebrow at your response. “You act like I'm Woody from Toystory.” He said sarcastically.
You laughed again. “Well, if you are woody,” You stopped and put a finger on your chin, tapping it twice. “That makes me” You pointed to yourself. “Buzz lightyear.” you did jazz hands as he looked at you stupidly.
“Did your mom drink in the womb?” You gasped and hit him on the arm when he walked by. “I’m just asking, you act like you have a disorder or something.”
(I am switching from the Second POV to First person From here on out :) )
I glare at him and Hit him again. “That's offensive you know,” I said as we continued walking.
We stopped in the middle of the woods when we came across a lake. It had a lake cabin and a road leading down to a hill with fields. “This what rich people used to buy?” I started as I looked out at the lake with my hand covering the sun. Carl only shrugged.
I looked around, nothing out of the ordinary, so I walked around the lake. “How crazy would I be to jump into this right now?” I asked, dropping my backpack and taking off my shoes. Carl just stared at me in disbelief.
“Walkers can be in there.” He said, pointing into the dark, green water. I shrugged and stripped down until I was in my boxers. “You are crazy, Your gonna fuckin’ die in there,” Carl shouted as I dived in. Carl watched bubbles go up and then stop. “Y/n, it's not funny.” He shouted from the edge of the lake. He put his backpack down and crotched by the edge of the water.
A firm hand pulled him down by his ankle as he yelped and was pulled in. A hand held the back of his neck and arms had him pulled into the other person. A finger went over his lips, which of course made Carl freak out, There wasn’t much he could do from in the water, but a scratch.
He was pulled back up and onto the wet mud as I held my face. My het hair covered my eyes as I had my mouth gaped open and blood dripped down my cheek. “You asshole.,” I said, staring at him.
“Im an asshole? You pulled me under!” He half yelled, shoving my face angrily with his hand. “Thought you were dead, and then you pulled me under, what the hell is wrong with you?” He said angrily, shoving me off and trying to get up. The mud under us made him slip and slide as he went backward and his ass landed on my stomach. I felt the wind be knocked out of me as I coughed and shoved him off.
“Oh my GOD.. you fat ass.” I wheezed as I got off of the ground. I coughed and grabbed onto the grass, making my way up. Carl glared at me as I laughed at him. “Get up dumbass,” I said, seeing that the whole side of his face was covered in mud.
“You shoved me into the fucking.” Carl grabbed a pile of mud. “MUD.” He yelled as he threw it at me. I flinched and covered my face as it landed on my stomach with a splat and rolled down. For some reason, that made Carl laugh out loud.
“Oh, that’s funny to you?” I asked, shuffling my foot under the mud, that move made Carl stop laughing and plead with me. “I thought it was funny, but when I do it, it’s not?” I asked, then kicked the pile of mud onto him.
His mouth opened in shock when it covered the other side of his face. Carl wiped it off and tried standing this time, he balanced himself out as I held out my arm for him to reach out and grab. He refused and started to walk. “You’re gonna fall, Woody.” I teased. Of course, he ignored me. And of course, I was right as I watched his feet slip.
I started to laugh loudly, and It was cut off by a scream as he grabbed my hand at the last second, pulling me down with him. “You fucker.” I said, pulling my face out of the mud and spitting out. I wiped it out of my eyes and looked down at him with a glare.
His hair is now covered in mud, as well as his back and clothes. Both of us sit up and cough, wiping the mud off of each other.
We lay in the field, covered in mud, and looked at the sky. Carl had his flannel beside him and wore his white t-shirt as he leaned against his bookbag. He had re-did his eyepatch after drying off and sent me back into the water to grab his hat.
Carl sighed and looked over towards me. “How did you stay underwater that whole time?” He asked, his brows together. I yawned and sighed.
“My dad made me do a bunch of sports. Baseball was one of the main ones, he coached that.” I said, looking at him. He looked a little confused by what I said. “My dad worked as a gym teacher and a coach before the world died… but he got fired a few months before everything happened,” I stated, playing with my hands. “My mom would take me to the beach on hot days, but mostly a pool. We would have competitions of who could stay under the longest, whoever one got to pick out supper or lunch.” I said, looking up at the sky and smiling.
I felt Carl’s fingertips touch mine and looked at him. He was looking at the sky with a bit of a saddened look. He started to speak. “My mom… She and My dad would get in fights, though she would be the only one fighting. Even after the walking dead, they fought. But she protected me from every bad thing out there, or tried to at least.” I watched his eyes close and I moved my fingertips closer until they touched each other. I watched our hands.
Our feet squashed onto the concrete as we walked back home. We walked closer than earlier, our arms skidding together as we spoke. “You think elephants are still alive?” I asked, looking around. Carl looked up at me like I was stupid. “Well, you never know…. They could be the last ones standing.” I joked.
Carl hit my arm and laughed a little. “That wasn’t funny.” He said and stopped laughing almost instantly. I laughed loudly and hit him harder.
“You're an ass,” I said, bumping our shoulders together a letting out a little laugh. He nodded while smiling. I watched the trees sway in motion with the wind as it blew through them.
We got home shortly and climbed back into the walls without anyone noticing, thankfully. I ran upstairs with Carl chasing me into the bathroom. “Fuck you, I’m getting one first,” I yelled as he pulled my foot from the stairs. He managed to get passed me and tripped my legs up. “You ass!’ I said, landing on the top floor. I heard the door open and the shower turned on in a matter of seconds and huffed, getting off of the floor.
I entered the bathroom, almost tripping over Carl's clothes, and looked at the mirror, peering at the cut on my face that was now covered in dirt. I turned the sink on and splashed water onto my face and wiped the blood off. I looked at the closed curtain and hit it. “You're a dick,” I said, sitting on the toilet seat. Carl only laughed as I took off my shoes and socks. “Turn around,” I said, hitting the curtain. “I’m getting in,” I stated, opening the shower curtain.
Carl huffed and turned around before I got in. I grabbed the shower head and pointed it at my head, rubbing the dirt off and watching it sink to the bottom of the tub. I looked down at Carl's slighted hunched-over body as he washed off the dirt on his arms. I grabbed the soap and rubbed it through my hair, rinsing it quickly. My eyes roamed his back, there were a few freckles and one scar. Without thinking, I rubbed my finger over it, making Carl's head sharply look over.
I mumbled a quick “Sorry,” before taking my hand off. His eyes looked at my torso and widened a little. Scars scattered around, large cuts, two bullet shots, and scratches that have yet to heal. I laugh and rub the mud off of my stomach. “I’ve had quite a few interactions with some bad people,” I muttered. “I don't show these much. My dad hates them, felt like it was his fault,” I said, closing the shampoo and placing it back on the rack.
“Was it?” Carl asked. I paused, looking down at him.
“You still haven't gotten the mud out of your hair,” I said, wiping the soap I had in my hand in his hair. He pushed my hand away and huffed as he started to scrub his head. I got out of the shower as the water dripped down my now wet boxers and hair. I grabbed a towel and dried my hair quietly as I heard the shower turn off. I put my towel over the rod holding the curtain. “I’m gonna go throw our clothes in the washer,” I said, grabbing the clothes off the floor. I heard him hum as he grabbed the towel off of the rod. I walked downstairs slowly and to my bag, grabbed my dirty clothes out of it, along with my jacket, and walked into the laundry room, throwing the clothes into the washer.
I threw in some detergent and turned it on. I hummed as I walked out and walked down the hall. I hear my radio go off in my bookbag as I walk into the living room. I sighed and Ignored it as I went upstairs. Carl was reading some comics in his bed with fresh clothes. “You got extras I could borrow?” I asked, pointing to his closet. He nodded as he flipped his page. I opened it up and all there were was boring plain clothes. I grabbed the black rusty jeans and black long-sleeve shirt before putting them on and plopping on his bed beside him.
Chapter 6☝️🤓
#negans son#negan x son!reader#negan x reader#negan#negan smith#carl grimes#carl x reader#carl grimes x male reader#carl grimes x reader#the saviors#the walking dead#rick grimes#twd daryl#twd x you#twd x reader#twd#twd carl#twd negan#slow burn
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Negan x reader - we’ll stay
The snow was blinding, freezing, and no matter how tightly you wrapped your blanket around you it wouldn’t do anything to help you.
You tripped slightly, stumbling a few steps into the man in front of you.
“Sorry…”
Negan slowed his steps slightly, walking alongside of you.
“You good?”
You gave a weak nod of your head, and he watched as you pulled your blanket a little closer to yourself.
Negan turned slightly, using his torso to stop the majority of the snow from hitting you and you glanced up at him.
“You’re being oddly nice…”
“Hey, if we’re gonna freeze to death out here may as well freeze be me first.”
You laughed slightly, shaking your head at him.
Negan grinned at you, looking ahead of him to make sure he wasn’t going to walk into anybody before turning his attention back to you.
You pulled your scarf up a little further.
With a small sigh, Negan took his blanket off, taking off a jacket and he took the one underneath off, holding it out to you.
He put his jacket on and took his blanket back.
“Go on.”
“Negan you need this, put it back on.”
“Yeah, you’re probably going to freeze before me, and since you’re the only fucker who even likes me at this point I can’t be letting you die.”
You smiled at him, passing him your blanket so you could put his larger jacket over yours and you took your blanket back.
“Plus what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t offer a stunnin’ lady like yourself my jacket?” He flirted.
“Yeah guess you’d be a bigger dick than you already are.”
His face twisted with mock hurt.
“Ouch, okay. I may have just saved your life.”
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. You’re fatass ego don’t need to be any bigger.”
Negan chuckled a little, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, placing his hand on your head, using his blanket to try stop the harsh weather hitting you.
“Judith!” Gabriel yelled.
Everybody stopped, and you and Negan spun around to watch her running away.
“Judith!” You both yelled.
Negan was the next to go, and you cursed quietly.
“Negan stop!” You shouted.
You shoved your blanket into the hands of whoever was behind you and sprinted after him, trying to find him.
“Negan?! Judith?!”
You spun around in a circle, looking around, looking at the ground to find their steps but you couldn’t even see your own.
“Negan?! Judith?!”
You tried to listen, but with wind roaring around you, snow coming at you from all directions it was impossible to make anything out.
Taking your scarf off you pulled both jackets around your nose, using the scary to hold them in place so you could try keep your face warm.
You pulled your sleeves down, putting your hands in your pockets as you carried on walking.
You should find shelter, but you had to find Negan and Judith to make sure they were both fine and safe.
But you didn’t know if you were going in the same direction, a different one, circling around again and again.
The blizzard was getting worse, you were shivering, and you were finding it harder and harder to walk, to breath it was that cold.
You dropped to your knees, lowering your head you pulled down the scarf and jackets, breathing in the freezing air.
It burned your lungs, and you pulled the jackets back up again.
Pushing yourself, you slowly began to walk, still trying to find the pair.
You couldn’t go on for much longer, your body couldn’t handle the freezing temperatures anymore.
Eventually your legs gave way, and you dropped to your knees.
“Judith…! Negan…!” You called weakly.
You hoped they would be nearby, but there’s no way they would have heard you.
Slowly you fell forward, shaky breaths wracking your body as you tried to keep moving.
“S..shit…” you whispered.
All you could do was listen to the sound of the wind around you, hiding your face in the jackets, covered your head with your arm in the hopes it would something.
Your eyes were fighting to stay open, and it was a loosing battle for sure.
You didn’t know how long you had been out there, if this storm was going to let out anytime soon.
It didn’t work, there was no winning this fight, even you knew that.
So, you stopped fighting, you closed your eyes and let the snow collect on your body, covering it, hiding it from anybody who might try find you.
As the storm rolled over, finally passing, daybreak came and Michonne and the others came home.
Everybody was playing in the snow and laughing, and Gabriel walked over with a serious look on his face.
“What is it?” Michonne asked.
“We’re missing (Y/N). She ran off after Negan to find him and Judith, she hadn’t returned Michonne.”
Everybody slowly stopped.
“You mean (Y/N) was still out here?” Daryl asked.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Get everybody that can look, move slowly and quickly, if she’s in the snow we don’t want to step on her.”
Negan looked at Siddiq who was treating his wound on his leg.
“Where’s (Y/N)?”
Siddiq didn’t say anything, but the look on his face said it all.
“No…”
Negan tried to get up but he was pushed back down.
“No! If she’s out there I have to find her!” Negan snapped.
“Everybody is looking, but the chances of survival out there all night are next to zero.”
Negan pushed him back and tried to get up, only for Michonne to stop him with her sword to his throat and he slowly laid back down.
“You’re staying here. We have everybody looking for (Y/N), and we will find her but even you know being out all night in that storm it doesn’t look good.”
Negan clenched his jaw, and he turned away, staring at the wall opposite him.
“Why pretend you care?”
Michonne walked around to stand in front of him, so he had to look at her and he did, his eyes locked with hers.
“Why?”
“Who the hell said I was pretending? I tried to go back out but those assholes wouldn’t let me.”
“Because you could run away!”
“You think I’d fucking run away in that?!”
They both went quiet and Michonne studied his face, his body language, the tone of his voice.
“(Y/N) is the only one who treated me like I was human, she is kind.”
“Shit… you really do care, don’t you?”
“Why the fuck do you think I want to go out there?”
Michonne sighed.
Walking over to a chair she sat down, looking at him and he looked at her.
They spoke, but went quiet when the door was slammed open, and you were rushed into the room, to bed opposite his.
“Is she alive?” Michonne asked.
Negan tried to get up but the look he was given made him stop again.
He looked at you, they pulled the cold jackets off you, tossing you aside to then covered you with blankets, trying to bring your temperature up.
“There’s a pulse, but it’s barely there.” Siddiq replied.
“If we can bring her temperature up we might have a better chance, the snow insulted some heat but not much.” Daryl said.
Negan could see your face now, you were so pale, your lips were tinged blue.
You really did look dead, well and truly dead and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.
“This room is too cold, we can’t heat it. We don’t have enough water either.” Gabriel said.
“Bring her here.” Negan said.
They all looked to him, and Daryl scoffed.
“As if. We’re not bringing her anywhere near you.”
“Look, I’m not going anywhere at I? She needs a constant steady source of heat or you’ll send her into shock and she’ll die! Is that what you want? You wanna kill her?”
They all went quiet, looking to Michonne for an answer on what to do.
This was her call, it was all up to you.
He was right, you need to be gradually warmed, and if they keep trying all these different ways then you would die.
“Do if, carefully, and only one blanket, we don’t want to send (Y/N) into shock.”
“You can’t be fuckin’ serious!” Daryl yelled.
“If we don’t (Y/N) will die! This is our best chance!” Michonne yelled back.
Gabriel and Siddiq carefully moved you over to Negans bed, rested your between his legs, your back on his chest, and they covered you up with a blanket.
“If you try anything…” Daryl warned.
With that, he left the room, and Michonne pointed her sword at Negan.
“Anything at all Negan, we will kill you.”
“I won’t.”
Michonne lowered her sword and they all walked away.
When they were gone Negan sighed, placing a hand on your forehead.
You were that cold that it made him slightly cold.
He pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, and rested his arm over your collar bone, his hand on your shoulder as he leant back.
“You’re a damn idiot…” he whispered.
He carefully sat up, peering down at you.
The colour still hadn’t returned to your skin, and he raised his hand that was resting on your shoulder to your neck, pressing it on your pulse point.
He could feel it faintly, and he lowered his head to your nose just to make sure that you were still breathing.
He couldn’t rest, every so often Negan would check your breathing and pulse, and he would let Siddiq check you over when he came by.
As night began to fall, Negan sat reading by a small light.
Negan had a book in one hand, his arm still draped over you, and his leg under yours.
Setting the book down so he could turn the page, Negan shuffled a little, wanting to stretch but not wanting to move you too much.
Siqqid came back, placing his hand on your head, and he studied you for a minute.
“She seems to be doing better, I’m going to move her back into her own bed.”
Negan snapped his head up, tightening his hold on your.
“Don’t even fucking think about it.”
“She needs her own space for when she wakes up.”
“She needs, and will stay here.” Negan said lowly.
Siqqid sighed, moving away.
He couldn’t fight Negan he knew that, even if Negan was hurt Negan will still knock him to the floor.
“If anything changes, if she gets worse come find me. She needs to drink this when she’s up.”
With that, Siqqid set a cup on the table and left, closing the door behind him.
Negan waited, and he slowly set his hook down.
He carefully moved you, resting your back on the bed, and he rolled to the side with a small grunt of pain, wrapping his arm around you, his hand on your hip while he rested his head on his other arm.
He just stared at you, studying your features, how peaceful you looked, the colour had slightly returned to your face, you felt warmer.
He was exhausted, all he wanted to do was sleep but he didn’t want to risk anything happening to you, so he stayed awake for as long as he could before exhaustion got the better of him.
You weren’t sure what made you wake up, but your eyes shot up and you took a few deep, shaky breaths as you stared at the ceiling.
You laid there for a few moments just staring straight up, letting your senses come back and give yourself time to figure out what happened.
“Negan… Judith…” you whispered.
You tried to pushed yourself up, but you didn’t have the strength, and you noticed something else was weighing you down.
Reaching for the blanket you tossed it aside, finding a hand resting on your stomach, a leg thrown over yours.
You turned your head, coming face to face with Negan whose eyes were open, watching you and he smiled slightly.
“Stay there.”
He covered you up and got up, walking to the table he grabbed he glass and sat next to you, helping you sit up so you could drink it.
He placed his hand to your forehead and gave a nod of approval.
Setting the glass on the floor he got back over the cover and laid down again, putting his leg back over yours, his hand going back to your head.
You slowly turned over, laying on your side, and he trailed his hand to the side of your face, tracing small circles.
“What the hell were you thinking…?” He whispered.
“You and Judith ran off… I had to find you…”
“Yeah, and you nearly fucking died in the process…”
You sighed a little, and he sighed back.
“Sorry… I’m sorry… I just… I swear I wanted to go find you…”
“It’s better you didn’t go out…”
Negan gave you a disapproving look.
“That’s not true, if I did maybe I coulda found you.”
“Or you’d be frozen too…”
He gave a small shrug, grinning a little bit at you.
He felt a shiver run through you and he pulled the blanket a little tighter around your body, moving a little closer so you were almost nose to nose with him.
“Idiot…”
You laughed softly, closing your eyes.
Negan closed his as well, and he felt your hands grip his shirt.
“I’ve got you…” he whispered.
“Negan…?”
You heard him hum, moving his head so that he could tuck your head under his chin.
“Stay…”
“I’m not going anywhere…” he whispered back.
You nodded, and Negan held you a little closer.
“You better stay too because if you don’t I’ll kick your ass.”
This made you laugh.
“Yeah.. yeah I’ll stay…”
“You better.” He chuckled
#the walking dead imagine#the walking dead#the walking dead x reader#the walking dead x you#the walking dead x y/n#twd#twd x reader#twd x you#twd x y/n#twd imagine#Negan smith#negan smith x reader#negan smith x you#negan smith x y/n#Negan smith imagine
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Merciless Beauty
Chapter 11: You Are My Queen
❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader
❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU
❧ Pronouns: she/her
❧ Warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI)—missionary, unprotected PiV (do not endorse, wrap it up), "fucked dumb" (more like "fucked tired") if you squint, food stuff (... idk it gets messy. Honey is involved.)
❧ Word Count: 10.2k
❧ Before You Read...
❧ Glossary
❧ In This Chapter: After the defeat of Negan and his Saviors, you are confronted with the pain of what you've experienced, and you must confide in Daryl. Of course, the bittersweet moment becomes a reunion fit for lovers.
❧ A/N: Um so hi! You guys didn't think I was never gonna finish this did you? I mean I wouldn't blame you if you did, but I did it! I mean, I tried. I had a few different ideas for how to end the series, and then I realized that this isn't quite the end. I am going to write an "Epilogue" chapter that will just be wrapping up everything with Ezekiel and basically the princess telling her dad about Daryl. But for now, this is the end! Now I gotta focus on Begin Again now that I finally have this done(ish). Hope you guys like it, and thank you for waiting <3
Far from the carnage and warfare, miles away in a secluded wood, the hearth burned brightly, illuminating the small cottage in a warm glow that seemed so distinct from the deep, dark night that surrounded outside.
The scarlet wound on his thigh bubbling with vinegar and wine, you held a wooden spoonful of warmed honey, letting it drip slowly over the clean injury. After the bath you’d given him, he wore nothing, save for the loose drawstring braies of linen that reached just above his knee.
Your delicate fingers spread the translucent liquid gold over the surrounding skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you kept note of his visage. Though his face was relaxed, and softened by the warm glow of the fire, he was stoic. No matter how you treated his wound, he did not flinch, or so much as show any signs of discomfort or pain.
As you wrapped his leg with a clean gauze, you spoke to him, cutting through the silence that had settled between you for the last several minutes.
“Does it not hurt?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper.
“No,” he replied simply, though that was not entirely true. The blade had been the worst hurt of it, but now, it was only a dull sting. Perhaps so much pain in his life had heightened his tolerance, or dulled his sense.
In fact, the sensation was pleasant. All he could really feel was the soft pads of your fingers gently spreading the liquid over his skin, the honey acting as a soothing agent after the cleansing properties of the wine and vinegar had settled into the open wound.
Wrapping the last bit of gauze around his thigh, you gently folded the linen of his braises back over, a soft puff of air escaping your lips all the while.
“You are brave,” you said, your eyes lifting with a gentle flutter of your lashes.
With a shift of your legs from underneath you, you carefully replaced the spoon of honey into its jar, setting it aside upon the floor next to you. It felt good to no longer be upon your feet, now bandaged and clean after Daryl had so adamantly insisted that you let him do so. Now, though, you’d tend to him, after everything he’d done for you that night.
But with the fortitude of a true knight, he did not show pain nor pride. He did not bask in any glory or relish in his victory. He did not shed a tear, his limp as he walked not slowing him down or keeping him from getting you to the safety of the cottage. Not only was he brave, but he was humble. The man you’d once called a sorry excuse for a knight had turned out to be a paragon of gallantry, though he never had to prove that to you. You’d known the error of your words since he returned to you that night so many moons ago, promising to take you beyond the walls without payment or worldly reward.
That seemed worlds away now. The way you’d looked at him then was a far cry from now, when before you was the embodiment of the greatest warmth and sweetness you’d ever felt. The swell in your chest had cut your breath short for a moment, while the knight shifted on the floor cushion upon which he sat, leaning forward to pull you closer by your hands, until you were cradled in his arms, your body curled up upon his lap and your head resting against his bare chest.
That was when your breath came back, the soothing motions of his hands caressing your sides reminding you of the safety he gave you now. Negan was no more, the Saviors were no more, and soon, your father and the surviving militia would meet you here, but now, there was nothing in this world except him, and you.
When time just began to crumble away, your eyes heavy with the promise of sleep, you were brought back to the surface of consciousness by his voice, steady and low.
“You are brave.”
A puff of amused air escaped your lips, though you did not contradict him, only listened as he spoke, that voice of his more soothing than the honey on his wound.
“You killed Negan.”
Though you could not regret your actions, you shivered at the thought of that moment, the knife driving into his back, the feeling of the blade tunneling through tissue and finally puncturing his frozen heart. It made you cling tighter to his chest, as if to cower from the memory that haunted you in the back of your mind.
“If you hadn’t, I would not be here now, holding you.”
Indeed, that was what he was made for―holding you, serving you. Just as you clung tighter to him, he held you with more strength, not out of fear that you’d be taken from him again, but out of sheer devotion.
“And I owe you my life.”
“No,” you replied, almost startling him as you lifted your head. As if by instinct, he held your chin softly, the calloused pad of his thumb stroking its soft skin in short, but slow, back and forth motions. “There is nothing that you owe to me. Certainly not your life.”
Though you remained stern in your expression of earnestness, his lips curled into a gentle smile.
“I owe you everything. My life’s devoted to serving you, you know that.”
But as you looked at him, his eyes so full of love and hope for the future he had with you, there was still a hesitation inside you. It was like a parasite, worming its way inside your heart to keep you from fully embracing the comfort he brought you. It had not held such an effect on you, until now. Now that you could comprehend it, the hideous guilt that troubled you so.
He could see it in your eyes now, too, as evidenced by his smile fading and his eyes, still filled with that same love, growing dim with concern.
“What is it?”
To keep it from him would only cause more abject pain, but to hurt him, to tell him of the betrayal that you believed you had committed against him. How could you go on, now that the thought of that man’s cold, slimy hands all over you would not let you rest in the arms of the man who truly loved you?
And if you told him, would he rebuff you, disavow his love for you and never even hold you again?
“Nothing,” you said, but the quiver in your slowly faltering voice betrayed you, and the feeling of a cold, dead hand strangled around your heart made you shiver. He brought you closer to his chest, where warmth briefly tore you from the icy snare of guilt and shame. It was only a temporary respite, though. The only way to rid yourself of this regret was to tell him.
Another man’s mouth had been on yours, the salty, bitter taste of which you swore still lingered and made a mockery of your once pure lips. You’d truly never felt that Daryl had ever taken any purity from you. In fact, he made you more pure, but the bitterness of Negan’s filthy tongue had sullied you, you believed, and now you were nothing more than a broken woman, despite how whole you felt when he held you in his arms.
“Tell me,” he said, with that eerie whisper of knowing on his breath. Even the soothing circular movements of his splayed out hand on the small of your back were made with careful concern. Indeed, he knew that whatever troubled you must have been to do with what had transpired within the last week.
Afterall, the blot of watercolor black and blue around your eye gave him an inkling, one which made anger well up in him like molten lava bubbling to the surface, igniting him with a kind of rage that was strong enough to bring that scum of a man back to life just to slice his head clean off a second time. And, oh, would he do it again if he had the chance, just to know, again and again and again, that the man who tormented his princess could never bring more harm to her, or anyone else.
“Daryl, I…”
Your words having fizzled out into thin air, you shook your head and loosened yourself from his arms, as though you were unworthy of their embrace. The more you thought of that night, the more you believed that to be true.
“What happened?” he asked, his body beginning to stiffen as he mirrored you—both of you frozen in fear of whatever you would say, if you would say anything at all.
For a moment, he felt both weightless and heavy, in some kind of strange limbo wherein worry overtook his physicality before any words could confirm the worst of his fears. It washed the color from his face, where once a warm pink had blossomed from the feeling of the nearby hearth and your body so close to his, once again, after everything that had happened.
Now, he could only begin to think of the heinous things that could’ve been done to you… Knowing how Negan had looked at you, how he touched you that night of the joust. There was something sinister in his eyes then, and now, there was a similar dread in your expression as you looked away from him, eyelids heavy and head downturned.
With a gentle hand on your shoulder, his instinct to hold you too strong to completely ignore without at least a single touch, he began to speak again—voice quiet yet raspy.
“Did he… did he touch you?”
Of course, he had, but what Daryl meant by his words seemed deeper than their surface level definition. The vitriol in his voice, the sting of the word touch, which once might have been so much more beautiful on his lips, was palpable, lacerating your heart further. If it wasn’t for the pain of the guilt, you would still feel the hurt of the sadness in his voice.
You raised your eyes to meet his, though his face was blurred in the haze of your tears. A kind of shocked concern shaped his expression as he held your cheek with so much delicateness, as though you were but an assemblage of rose petals sewn together with gossamer twine.
He spoke your name now, low and almost a whisper. There was something so earnest about that, the way he called you only by your name and nothing else. No title, no epithet. Just you, just a woman, but not just a woman at all—a woman for whom he’d give the skin off his back to keep warm.
With his fingers laced delicately through your hair, he begged you with his eyes, glassy and clear, almost translucent to the point you swore you could see his soul bared before you. Even just in his stare, he made himself vulnerable to you, and soon, whatever fear you had of him turning on you melted under that comforting, warm gaze. Just for a moment, you gave in, and used your tongue to forcibly tear out the words that were stuck in your throat.
But still, you could not look at him as you spoke.
“Yes, he…” Your voice trailed off, followed by a deep breath of air you’d hoped would give you the strength to continue, but it only brought forth the tears that threatened to give way.
Two big arms encircled you hesitantly, slowly enough to allow you to break free had you not craved his touch, but his touch was all that could give you peace now. No further questions were needed, he surmised. He wasn’t sure he could even bear to know more of what was done to you, so he kept you in his grasp, which you did not fight.
With a shaky voice, he spoke against your cheek as he held onto you. Your head found a cradle in his shoulder, where tears wetted his bare skin. On his breath was a gentle shhh sound, like a light breeze rustling the leaves of an ancient oak in cool night air. It comforted you, along with the steady motion of his hands on your back, moving in slow, languid circles.
But no longer could you only contain your emotions to your sobs. Now, you raised your head and faced him, looking him sharply in the eye despite the pain that singed your heart with each syllable:
“I had a plan,” you began. “I… I only wanted to get close to him. He called me to his chambers… I had a knife. I let him touch me…” Once again, you could no longer hold his gaze. You continued on, now tripping over your own words as you scrambled to explain, through a tear-soaked voice that trembled in fear of whatever reaction you’d receive. “Only just with his lips… His filthy lips. Then as soon as I could, I tried to stab him. I swear, all I wanted was to get close to him, long enough to kill him.”
The knight only looked at you with a steady gaze, one that only softened with each passing moment. You felt his arms tighten around you, and you weren’t sure if it was an attempt to comfort you, or to suffocate you. Either way, you would’ve died a thousand times to feel that touch.
But you longed most of all, now, to know exactly what he was thinking. To hear those words you knew must’ve been brewing inside that head of his—those words that would crush you under the weight of their rebuke. Though those words never came, no shame or disappointment, only another kind of pain in his eyes. A pain that was born of your sadness as each tear you shed sent a new wave of agony through his aching body.
Shakily, you whispered to him, pleading in all but words for him to tell you how much he hated you for betraying him, for letting another man touch you. “My love… Won’t you end my suffering and speak to me?”
At times, Daryl’s movements carried more meaning that any service his vocal cords could provide. All he could do in that moment was hold you by your cheeks, his thumbs meandering in circles to gently rub the tears into your skin.
And, finally, he did speak, but his words caught you off guard far more than you thought possible.
“What are you afraid of, princess?”
Afraid of?
“I… I do not understand.”
“The look in your eyes, the fear. You look afraid of me. Why?”
You swallowed back the lump in your throat as you shook your head, both in denial and in confusion. “I do not fear you.”
Quite the contrary, you wanted nothing more for him to hold you until your heart gave out.
“I—I fear that you will detest me,” you continued, now trying desperately to let your tears drown out your words. “I fear I’ve betrayed you.”
In your mind, you had, and Daryl would have had every right to leave you now: alone and pitiful. Though he didn’t. He only kept his eyes on yours, and though you had a shameful urge to look away, you could not tear your gaze from his. There was no spite in his eyes, no bitterness or loathing. Not even anger.
All you could see in his eyes was the same gentleness, the same kindness and utter servitude that he devoted to you with each passing moment his eyes took you in. That sentiment had always been there, nothing had changed, no matter what you could say. It would never change. There was no enmity there, only the strength of his love for you.
His hands held your cheeks still, pulling you gently closer until his forehead softly touched yours. The feeling made you shudder, as though still you could never fully comprehend the sensation his touch gave to you. You were sure that you would never get quite used to that feeling, though you never wanted to. That sense of novelty was a pleasant sensation all on its own.
“My princess,” he said, his grainy voice barely above a whisper as his nose touched yours. His lips began to upturn ever so slightly into the softest smile, natural and sweet. “There’s nothin’ you could do to make me think that.”
As you shuddered a shaky breath, he held you closer still. You let out a heavy sigh, one that felt like it had been lingering deep inside you ever since you escaped the Sanctuary.
“You’re trembling,” he said, running his coarse fingertips along the exposed skin of your neck, until his hand met the loose neckline of his chemise that you borrowed, draped over you more like a dress than a shirt as the oversized garment reached just below your thighs. He leaned back to look at you, still sniffling back tears. With a strong hand, he swept back your hair to nestle it in the warm crevice behind your ear.
“You cold?” he asked, already beginning to tug a blanket from under a nearby cushion. “Here—”
“No.” Your suddenness nearly startled him. It reminded you just how fragile he was, no matter how reluctant he was to show it. “I’m all right.”
Daryl knew, though, that you still could not shake the guilt, like a vulture’s ravenous gnawing at your heart. He knew you too well, so well that it almost frightened him. There was no one else with whom he could see through, whose transparency reflected a deep, intrinsic understanding beyond conscious comprehension. The depths of you were overwhelming, but he could never fight the profound urge to navigate them, despite the sadness that his love’s empathy could bring.
With a deep breath of his own, he brought you back to his lap. The ease with which he could manipulate your body with the most gentle yet sudden caress would never fail to momentarily paralyze you. You melted into his arms once again. It was only a matter of time before you became completely at his mercy, though there was absolutely no part of you that protested, except maybe that last shred of guilt.
“You know I love you,” he said. “You know I serve you.” You must have broken out into a smile, because he, too, smiled. “And you know that you’re here now. You’re alive. Whatever you did to get here, whatever I did to get here… They’re sacrifices—risks.”
You found your hands returning to his body, their place on his broad, firm shoulders solidified like indentations in concrete. Swallowing hard, you felt a chill run through you, but it was not from the fear of losing him now—it was the effect of his touch, his hands having found their way beneath the shirt he lent you, sprawled out over your back, stroking in gentle rhythms.
“Daryl.” Your voice seemed to crumble under the pressure of the air that you spoke shakily into, the utterance of his name so delicate upon your trembling lips. “What I did, it haunts me. Perhaps you can forgive me, but how will I forgive myself, when I let that man—”
He did not let you utter another word before he interrupted, his own voice soft with sympathy. How he could remain so patient with you in this state, you would never know.
“I know your heart, I know you.” Now he all but forced your weary head to rest upon his chest, where the gentle beating of his heart warmed your cheek. “The only anger I have is for the man who touched you, not you.”
But still, it was hard for you to forget. The only cure to that ailment seemed to be Daryl’s touch, his assurance that he loved you beyond what words could convey. You needed his touch, but not just skin to skin. There was more, a lingering desire that floated between you perpetually, yet was stronger now than ever before.
It was a desire that penetrates, that longs to be penetrated. The kind that only lovers of the truest caliber could satisfy in the company of one another, the company which you had been deprived of for far too long.
The pestilence Sir Negan left for you to wallow in would only be destroyed by the greatest expression of love—that which made all pain and sorrow and suffering pale in comparison to the feeling of knowing that your heart was in the safe hands of no one else but him, your lover.
Your knight.
When silence overcame you, he uttered your name softly against one cheek, while his hand delicately brushed over the other. If he touched you anywhere else, you might crumble into a million pieces, like an ancient Grecian statue carved from the most fragile marble.
Only the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth could be heard against your soft breaths caressing the shell of his ear, while your hands crept carefully up his chest, brushing over the creases of his underarms to grasp at his shoulders. They felt so hard, so firm and unbreakable. You held them tighter now, and in response, he tightened his arms around your waist to bring you ever closer, until your lips found his.
The kiss was tender, light, each of your lips dancing softly over the other’s. With a tilt of his head and a brief respite, he caught your lips again, this time more firmly, yet still somehow cautious.
Perhaps he’d never grow completely forthcoming in his lust for you, which seemed almost sacrilegious, yet somehow sacred. He knew that he’d be killed for this, but how on God’s green earth was he going to keep his hands off you? How could any star up above in those vast, empyreal heavens compare to the gleam in your eyes when he uttered your name, each syllable dripping with honeyed cadence? How could the rich, melodic refrain of any skilled bard’s lute come close to the dulcet sighs that tickled his ears so delectably, almost tauntingly? How could there be anything more soft, more supple, than your body—that which occupied his thoughts far more often than he could ever truly admit?
Even your scent roused his most lustful thoughts, that sweet citrusy musk entangled with heady notes of the most intoxicating rose, the petals of which could not compare to the plump, velvety lips he traced his work-worn thumb over now, parting them gently until a sliver of darkness formed, with just a flash of white where your teeth could be seen.
Finally, those lips opened just a bit more to speak again. “I want to forget that night,” you said. “I want to forget everything that’s happened… besides you.”
Truly, nothing was of consequence to you now, but him. You wanted to be enveloped in him. To be absorbed in him. To be one with him.
If he hadn’t been so lost in the vibrant hue of your glittering eyes, speckled with sparks alight from the nearby hearth, he might’ve noticed the feeling of your hands exploring his bare chest, your palms melting against the buttery surface of those defined muscles. When the sparkle in your eye lost his attention, he did feel it—that soft touch with just a hint of something more… indecent.
With a slow, meandering movement, never taking those silvery blue eyes from yours, he took both of your hands in his, where they rested so delicately in the strong cradle of his warm palms. He brought them to his lips, the touch of which was so featherlight that you could barely even hear the sound of them pressing an ever so sweetly suggestive kiss to your hands.
It was then that the chemise you wore slid slowly off your shoulder, its size much too big for your frame. With even just your collarbone and the slope of your neck now exposed, much to the delight of his increasingly wandering eyes, he knew there was no escape from the desperation you awakened in him. Only it was not just desperation, but the insatiable urge to provide for you the comfort you so needed. It was written clear as day in your eyes.
Even so, you could not let the heavy air between you go without another plea, though it seemed to him almost like a command—from a princess to a knight.
“Make me forget.”
And so he obliged, not with another kiss, but with a tight grip on your waist, lifting you until you sat upon his lap, where the heat of his center warmed the bare underside of your thighs. After he took a moment to gather his thoughts in the midst of his sudden haste, he did not keep you in that position for long. The feeling of your weight upon his lap was too divine, nearly too much. If he took you now with too much urgency, that which was so strong he could hardly hide it, he might reach the peak of his pleasure much too soon.
So you were caught in a slight whirlwind for just a moment, in one last burst of quickness punctuated by a low, raspy rumble in his voice. Now you were laid out rather ungracefully, resting on piles of weaved woolen blankets and furs strewn loosely upon the floor.
There was not as much hesitation now, having already seen your body in its most bare form. He lifted the chemise over your head with ease, and when the fabric no longer obscured your vision, you met his face—a gentle, almost unnoticeable curl of his lip.
Above you, his eyes took their time roaming your chest, but not just your breasts. There was a delicateness to you everywhere—the slope of your collarbones, the way your shoulders rolled as you started to grow aroused, the pulsing of the strained tendons in your neck.
But before he could bring his lips to kiss your neck as he so deliberately planned on doing, he noticed the now tipped over jar of amber-colored honey slowly dripping from the lip of the vessel onto the floor, not far from where your hair had been strewn about amidst the sudden movements of passion. Those same movements must’ve caused the nearby jar to lose its balance.
Now brought to his attention, the silken honey seemed to shimmer with a warm, enticing glow. His heavy, blown-out eyes returned to your body, now with a sparkle of mischief, perhaps. You weren’t entirely sure, as you’d rarely seen such a quality in his gaze before.
In a trance of combined anticipation and confusion as the man held his half-naked body over yours, you looked up at him with innocent questioning.
“My knight?” you asked quietly, your voice only a faint, fragile whisper, delicate as a butterfly’s wing. “You seem confounded.” A soft tickle of laughter trailed off from your voice. “Does something trouble you? You moved with such vigor only a moment ago.”
He was unsure of how to explain in words the idea that came to him then, though you seemed to have grown accustomed to his sometimes reticent nature. That would prove to work in his favor now, as he all but remained silent in response to your questioning, opting instead only to scoop a bit of honey onto his index and middle fingers, slowly removing them from the jar with a hefty glob of the sticky substance.
You turned your head to watch in confusion, which quickly became concern.
“Does your wound need more honey? Does it hurt?”
“No,” he replied simply, with a more serious tone of lust to his deep, gravelly voice, the vibrations of which sent a fresh shiver down your spine.
For several moments, you were held hostage by his gaze, which roamed down the expanse of your neck. Your heavy breathing told him what he needed to know—the way your chest heaved with each passing second. You craved him, more than ever before, perhaps. With each new breath, he swore he could hear a slight pleaing whimper just trailing behind.
Without another moment’s hesitation, he brought his honey-drenched fingers to your lips, already slightly agape.
But he did not want to force the liquid into your mouth, only to coat your lips in its sweetness.
So he traced the shape of your lips, leaving behind a trail of gold sheen to glaze the soft, plump skin. Despite your slight disorientation, you allowed him to do as he pleased. After all, there was no other way to forget the pain of all that you’d experienced. No other way to be completely enveloped in the pleasure of love.
Soon you could taste the honey seeping into your mouth, dripping slowly onto your tongue. It tasted sweet, of course, but as his lips gently pressed to yours, the taste seemed even sweeter.
Between your lips was a sticky mess of warm sighs and saccharine wetness, with his tongue invading your mouth impatiently, swirling feverishly as your hands reached up to grasp at his shoulders.
Your touch ignited a fire in him, deep in the pit of his stomach, from which a guttural moan melted into your mouth.
And he knew there was more of your body that he needed, more skin he could drench in the warm nectar of the honey, more skin he could lick clean.
A fragile sigh escaped your trembling lips as he separated himself from you abruptly, though the disappointment in your voice compelled him to return to your honeyed lips for just a moment to kiss them in an offer of apology for his momentary departure.
He separated once more, leaning to the side to find the jar of honey, and immediately collecting another hefty, dripping glob of golden syrup.
There was a shaky whimper in your voice when he trailed his honey-drenched fingers over your breast, circling slowly around the nipple.
The more he applied to the soft tissue of your nipple, the more the substance globbed and began to drip slowly, like molasses, down the slope of your breast, making your back arch at the tickling sensation.
The knight could only watch your breast become drenched in translucent golden liquid, the subtle scent tempting him to come closer, until you could feel his warm breath against your heaving chest.
An absent-minded sigh escaped your quivering lips, with his name: “Daryl…”
Just as he heard it, his own name spoken on the wings of a swan’s breath, his flattened tongue caught a plump drip of gold slowly making its way down your breast.
He licked upwards then, reaching the hardened bud of your nipple, where his tongue circled eagerly now, yet with a slowness just enough to delay your pleasure, to properly torment you with his toying attention.
But his own temptation prompted him to take the whole sweetened nipple into his mouth, which craved above all else to taste every inch of you—the delicate, virtuous princess writhing naked underneath him as he made use of your body to the fullest extent of his desire.
With his mouth upon your aroused nipple, he suctioned his lips, now himself becoming too impatient to merely kiss the engorged flesh.
The feeling sent your head reeling backwards against the pillow, with a low, breathy moan. Each kiss made you cry out louder, more impatiently as your body craved more of his kisses.
But what he wanted was more honey.
So he took the jar again, this time tilting it so that the golden liquid began to drizzle in zigzag patterns over your chest, then your stomach.
Now you felt drenched in honey, sticky with it. Not to the point of discomfort, but amusement at his fascination with it, his tongue now licking up the trail.
You let out a quiet laugh, your voice low and sultry as you began to speak. “You’re making a mess of me.”
He did not stop lapping up at the drizzled honey, except to look up at you with a subtle mischief gleaming in his eyes of quicksilver blue for a few moments, long enough to say, “A very sweet mess.”
Soon his lips returned to yours, while his chest pressed against yours in a sticky embrace. You couldn’t help but laugh softly against my mouth, while your hands reached up to loosely tangle in the soft umber colored tresses upon his head.
And it felt like heaven to him then—your softness underneath him, your own sweet taste overpowering the saccharine honey, the tickle of your laugh fluttering against his lips, the slight scratch of your fingernails upon his scalp, the intoxicating warmth between your legs opening up to take him in as your legs wrapped around his waist.
That eagerness of yours made him snicker. Unable to resist the urge to chide you a bit, he pulled his lips away for a moment.
“Your highness seems restless,” he said, nodding his nose against yours with a small but wicked smile curling to one side of his face. “I thought princesses were supposed to be patient and proper.”
With a tilt of your head, you glared up at him, only with a very slight sense of playful annoyance.
“You know nothing of patience or propriety, depraved knight. It is you who so wantonly tempts my resolve… Who compels me to crave your devilish touch, which causes my weary mind such carnal turmoil.”
The knight’s quiet laugh seeped out from the charmingly crooked crack in his lips. With a low hum, somewhere between amusement and lust, he leaned down to kiss his increasingly restless princess once more.
When the kiss broke, he brushed the back of his hand against your heated cheek in soothing motions as he spoke softly against your slightly pouty agape lips.
“Those are big words,” he said, with a low rumble of laughter underscoring his scratchy voice. “They sure sound pretty on your lips.”
As your hands absentmindedly roamed the broad expanse of his heaving chest, the muscles underneath the hair-speckled flesh flexing under your soft touch, you met his gaze from above you with a mischievous glimmer in your eye.
“My love,” you hummed softly, your eyelashes fluttering slowly against his cheek as his mouth roamed aimlessly over yours. “You torment me with your caresses… Your sweet touch.”
“You said it was devilish,” he replied between kisses, using your dramatized words against you.
“It is,” you laughed softly. “Devilish and sweet. But it’s your touch. I wish to feel it every moment of every day and every night for all eternity, and the eternity after that, and before that, and every eternity in between.”
Daryl’s hand lifted to the side of your face, gently placing a strand of unruly hair behind your ear, to continue his increasingly feverish onslaught of kisses on your other cheek.
“Yes, your highness,” he replied, much to your amusement. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
“Mm, you’re mine.”
After a momentary pause, he seemed to turn more serious—almost frightening—as he grabbed you with more impatient vigor, your arms having no choice but to cling around his neck. With your face surrounded by soft tresses of brown hair, you let out an instinctive cry, as though he was a predator and you were prey, about to be devoured. Though there was nothing in your biology that compelled you to fight him off. You’d accepted your fate, and you welcomed it.
Your weight was suddenly cradled by the softness of the bed beneath you, though your legs were still wrapped tightly around Daryl’s waist. That did not keep him restrained for long, for he soon unraveled himself from your entanglement and began to strip himself of his worn linen braies.
There was hardly any time to marvel at his anatomy—he soon climbed back over you, catching your breath with his mouth once again. You could at least feel his now unhindered length, though. You could feel it harden between your legs, where the warmth of your soft thighs made his cock begin to twitch from the pressure.
As though your body wasn’t close enough for his liking, he looped his arm under the arch of your back, lifting you up just enough to feel your belly pressed against his. If he concentrated enough, he swore he could feel the delicate fluttering of your excitement inside you.
The tingling became stronger now, his body moving above you with enough rhythm to force his cock against the fleshy folds between your legs. The feeling was still so foreign, having only felt it in its fullest form once before, but you knew that tingle just from the sight of him, the smell of him, the taste of him. He did not even need to touch you there to make your body react in such a way, you were certain.
Taking notice of your soft moans against his lips, and the slight gyration of your body, he used his free hand to find the warmth that so enticed him. His fingers settled in that crevice, staying still for a moment, until by some impulse they began to move. Up and down, up and down… A rhythmic motion not unlike the way the rest of his body moved, too. For your part, you broke the kiss to let out a moan that could not be contained by the velvet cage of his adoring mouth any longer.
“Oh!”
Your head had tilted back so far that your neck was now exposed, completely subject to his will. As his hand moved not faster, but with more pressure, more insistence, he trailed his lips down your jawline, leaving messy, imprecise kisses along your perfumed skin.
Applying increasing pressure, he sank his fingertips into you, that warm, sodden opening between your legs. The sensation was still so new, though the slight burning pain was less than before. You only clenched your teeth slightly, feeling his fingers extend deeper within you, curling upwards toward your belly.
For a moment, he could not pay attention to anything but the way you felt—the way your body reacted to his invasion. Your passageway seemed to pulse around his fingers ever so slightly, as if it was some innate reaction, coercing his fingers further.
He only noticed your slight discomfort when he looked at you, your eyes shut tight. He pressed his lips to your cheek, his hair falling in your face. It was soft, yet ticklish, like a curtain of brown feathers draped over you.
“You all right?” he asked, his voice a soft, soothing whisper. If his touch wasn’t pleasing you enough, his voice so gentle and yet gruff was sure to push you over the edge of pleasure and into the realm of extraordinary bliss. “Tell me if I hurt you.”
“It doesn’t hurt. It’s only slight… You’re quite gentle.”
Against your cheek, you could feel his lips curl into a smile. All the while, his fingers moved slowly, back and forth, migrating between the shallow part of you, and the deepest part.
“Do you like it this way, your highness? Slow… gentle? I could go faster, but I don’t wanna hurt you.”
With a laugh, you shook your head, amused. “You could hurt me and it would still feel like heaven.”
He smiled down at you, then pressed another kiss to those plump, agape lips, sparkling with wetness and trembling with desire. Daryl was never a particularly confident man, but something about the way you wanted him, craved him beyond anything he’d ever known, he felt like he had the whole world in his hands.
And now, he felt the world quake and shiver round his curled fingers, an accumulation of warm wetness pooling where his knuckles breached the entrance of your body in repetitive motions. Coupled with the aching softness of your uncontrollable moans were the sounds of his fingers moving inside you, the rhythmic, involuntary squeezing of the canal creating drenched and airy sighs of its own.
As his fingers pulsed inside of you, you clung tightly to his shoulders, the tan, sun-freckled skin stretched thinly over defined muscles. A strained sigh escaped your lips as your fingers dug into his skin. Daryl’s pace slowed steadily to keep you from coming too soon, but he knew you were so very close.
It amused him a little, the way your body was so sensitive to his touch. He found arousal in the way he could so easily bring you the ultimate pleasure, and the way he could withhold it at will. Despite how subservient he was to you, he could not help but revel in the dominance that came over him when so much control of your perfect body was given willingly over to him.
But you sighed and pouted as his fingers paused inside of you. Opening your eyes, you tilted your head and looked up at him—he traced your jawbone with his finger, while the fingers he had inside you playfully wiggled upwards to make you shiver.
“Daryl,” you sighed, not quite sure what else to say but his name.
In response, he smiled as hazy silvery blue eyes roamed your face, taking in each and every flawless feature. “You’re so beautiful… My sweet angel. I’d like to have you like this forever.”
Though your heart fluttered at his sweet words, you could only muster a few words, as your body anticipated its release: “Do not stop.”
But he did the opposite, removing his fingers altogether and leaving you throbbing, writhing desperately as you groaned softly.
Panting, he sat up, lifting himself up from the bed to look at you, taking you in for a moment as he decided on what to do next. After all, he was leading the way.
Before you could say another word, or even lift up your head to see what he was up to, you felt his hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you towards him as he stood at the end of the bed.
You managed a surprised exclamation at the sudden jolt, your legs now spread just wide enough to fit his body as he climbed over you, his weight holding you against the bed. Now he kissed you again, with lips and tongue moving wildly over yours. Lost in this passion, you found your hands exploring the wide, muscular surface of his back, moving in erratic circles. With each flex of his muscles underneath your soft palms, you let out a breathy sigh, swallowed by his mouth on yours.
As much as you craved his kiss, you knew you craved the hardness between his legs that was pulsing against your sodden entrance more. It was so close to being inside you, so close to that feeling you had only known once before, that you coveted ever since he first made love to you. There was an overwhelming emptiness there always now, where you hadn’t quite felt one before. You had known the carnal pleasures of sex, and now it was like a curse of desire had overtaken you. Not a desire just for the feeling, but for him, and the feeling only he could give to you.
He felt your desire, too. It only heightened his own as his lower body moved against yours, assuaging his hunger for the embrace of your body just enough to keep him from spoiling this moment of closeness with his impatience. You deserved more than a quick burst of passion that ended in an underwhelming sensation of relief. That was what he’d only known before, after all―mindless, loveless moments with nameless, faceless women who could satisfy his purely biological need in the most practical exchange of goods. These occasions were few and far between, but never satiating beyond that primal desire. This was unlike anything he’d felt before, and to make love to someone, real love, was a change of pace he had to orient himself with. A most welcome change, of course.
But he could not hold out much longer, he knew this of his body well enough. So at last he pulled his lips away from yours, his focus turning to the space where your bodies were so close to connecting. He reached down, with a series of gruff pants escaping between his lips, to bring the tip of his cock to your entrance.
There was just a tickle of his flesh brushing against yours, but it was enough to elicit a shiver and a sigh against his sweat-dripping cheek. There, you pressed your lips to his face, with the salt of his clammy skin on your tongue. As he slowly entered you, you felt your body loosen, no longer tense with need, but now just beginning to feel full and warm.
And with a deep, guttural moan, he buried himself further. Despite how slow he tried to move, he could not waste another moment―he did not want for anything in this moment but to be completely inside of you.
The feeling lingered for a while as both of your bodies rested in place. He did not move, neither did you. There was only the erratic beating of your hearts and the heavy breaths escaping your lips. Daryl’s head found its place in the space between your head and your shoulder, where he found refuge in the warmth of your hair, scented with galgant and cloves.
Though you could bask forever in the feeling of him inside you, still and deep, your desire was to feel him move again.
As if on their own accord, your hands moved swiftly down his back to squeeze the flesh of his buttocks, as you’d call it. Ass, as he would call it, you were sure. The feeling elicited a laugh which tickled your cheek.
“Where did you learn to do that, princess?”
“Nowhere,” you replied, just as he lifted himself up to look down upon you. There was a look of playfulness in his eyes, with a considerable amount of increasingly impatient lust. It excited you more, so you moved yourself as much as you could in an attempt to feel the friction of his cock inside you.
Amused at your clumsy wiggling, he relented with a subtle swirl of his hips and a movement of his body which pulled him further out of you, until he slowly buried himself deeper again.
His arms propped up the bulk of his weight as he moved in and out of you at increasing pace, his breath becoming more and more ragged all the while. Nothing could hold him back as he began to lose control of himself. Every cell in his body screamed for release, and he couldn’t slow down now. His lower body moved faster with each thrust that shook you to your core, where the tingly feeling of pleasure was building up inside once again.
Wide-eyed and breathless, your hands moved to his shoulders in an attempt to keep yourself steady, but it was no use. His sheer physical strength and size was enough to make your body practically seize from the force of his thrusts. In these desperate, hungry movements, there was a deep reverence—a kind of devotion you’d never known before, not even as a princess. He made love to you like it was an act of worship, in every conceivable way.
From the way he focused on you, as though the sun and stars revolved around you, to the feeling of his body making every frantic, passionate movement not only to sate his need, but to please you, he wanted nothing more than to serve you, as was his sworn oath.
And as you came closer to losing control of your loins, your body squeezed and writhed around him. In a fit of pleasure, so close to the precipice of bliss, your back arched and your head was thrown backwards with an involuntary spasm, as your legs clenched tight around his waist to draw him further into you.
He was so deep, and you felt so full. The pain was there, lingering, as you were stretched open again and again. In all your ignorance, a part of you feared he’d tear you open, but you trusted him—your gallant, noble knight.
Now your hands held for dear life to his upper arms, where well-worn and well-defined muscles gleamed with sweat and ached with each part of him that needed release, which was soon to come. Your heavy, quickened breaths formed a pattern that seemed to match his, with occasional moans, groans, and even a slight curse or two escaping his tightened lips.
And soon, a sudden wave of vibrations overtook you—that sensation you’d been dreaming of since the first night he bedded you. It was like a hurricane sweeping through your body, each new pulse of tingling pleasure surging through you like a strong gust of wind that left you squirming and crying out underneath him.
It was a feast for his eyes to see you like this, and to know just how much power his love held over you. With each gasp, each breathy moan, each soft convulsion that contorted your body, he lost himself in your bliss.
He couldn’t help but kiss your trembling lips as your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, pulling his body further against you and into your pulsing center. This feeling, along with the soft dance of his tongue across and around yours, drew him closer to his own release.
It had been buried deep in the back of his mind from the moment he realized you were taken—that terrible longing, tainted by the fear that never again would he feel this again. Of course he knew the most important thing was rescuing you and returning you home safe, but there was that selfish part of him that desired you carnally, because once was not enough.
Now that you were safe, he feared he’d never be able to go another second without you again.
So, with a final deep thrust and a hearty groan, he let his body go. He was quick enough to free himself from you, releasing the buildup of his arousal onto the soft inside of your thigh.
The warmth tickled you slightly as it trickled down. You watched through hazy, lidded eyes as Daryl’s hand stroked his pulsing cock until it was rendered limp as if with exhaustion. His body drooped over yours, his head cradled against your shoulder. Fast, heavy breaths warmed your neck. In a matter of seconds, he caught his breath enough to catch your lips with his once more.
Heady air thick with the scent of honey and sex swirled between your bodies, moving languidly beneath the fur blanket Daryl had draped over the two of you somewhere between lazy, sweaty kisses and tangled arms.
Tonight was different than the first night you made love. That night, the passionate fire he stoked inside of you kept your mind alert enough to stay awake with him into the wee hours of the morning, murmurs of dreams and worries slipping between your lips. Tonight, you could hardly keep your eyes open once you’d felt your body sink into the straw-filled cot beneath you.
Daryl, in his lust, hadn’t noticed you’d begun to drift off as he showered you in kisses. When your hands began to slowly lose their tight, needful grip on his shoulders, he let his lips separate from yours with a smile. Your head sank like an anchor onto the pillow beneath you. With your last sensation the feeling of your knight’s lips pressed gently to your temple, you entered a deep, much-needed sleep.
The night was still when you awoke in a slight daze, colored a deep brownish orange from the flicker of the dying hearth. Your newborn senses clung to the feeling of the soft fur beneath your outstretched hand, where once Daryl lay.
You stirred awake at the realization of his absence. Sitting up, the fur blanket fell from your body to expose your naked breasts. A sudden shock dispelled any last remnants of sleep. You weren’t at all accustomed to sleeping in the nude, after all.
Moreover, you feared something, though you weren’t quite sure what, had happened to your knight.
As you raised yourself from the modest cot to dress yourself in the once discarded chemise, you could not help the fearful thought of whatever remained of the Saviors taking Daryl from you, leaving you alive in some cruel, twisted act of revenge for the death of their leader.
But as you stepped outside, into the darkness of the early morning, Daryl’s voice, grainy and soft, came to you through the crisp air. In your slight daze from waking just moments ago, it took you a moment or two to recognize his voice speaking your name.
Your eyes caught up faster than your ears when you turned to see him, illuminated only by the light of a small lantern placed on the pebbled ground near his feet. He was dressed already, a simple tunic of linen white, with a wool cloak of deep indigo on his back. The closer you stepped towards him, the more the almost crimson glow of the majestic Friesian’s coat shimmered to distinguish the creature from the black of night.
“Phantom?” you spoke softly, rubbing your sleep-heavy eyes as if to wake yourself from a dream. You’d almost forgotten about the loyal steed, and it was hard to imagine him surviving the chaos of the battle just hours ago, but then again, you survived.
Phantom seemed to perk up at the sound of your voice. He lifted his head to meet your eyes, and left the side of his master to slowly come towards you. The gentle creature’s muzzle seemed to slide perfectly between your delicate hands as he huffed a breath of air. After a few moments of accepting your pets, he raised his head to nuzzle your shoulder, nearly putting you off balance with the sheer force of the large animal’s affections.
Daryl flinched for a moment, about ready to lunge forward to catch you if you fell, but you caught yourself with your back foot, laughing despite the slight pain of the raw blisters that began to form there from last night’s escapades.
“Oh, I am so glad to see you.” The horse lowered his head as if in reverence, some kind of formal acknowledgement of your voice. You ran your fingers through Phantom’s silky forelock, which you knew to be quite pleasing to the destrier. “I thought I might never do so again.”
“He found his way home.” Daryl’s voice came closer, until you felt the warmth of his chest against your back. His chin rested upon your shoulder, a comforting weight. “Like he always does.”
Daryl’s arms squeezed tight around your waist, pulling you flush against him. While still lavishing attention upon the rather needy horse before you, you closed your eyes and took in his scent of pine and honey. But you did not stay still long, turning to see his face you’d dreamed of, just to remember that he was real. Phantom, though, huffed in slight disappointment.
“When will my father come?” you asked quietly. Something about the stillness and the darkness of the early morning, just a matter of time before the sun would begin to rise, made you whisper.
Daryl’s chin lifted towards the distant horizon, where the first sliver of dawn slowly parted the darkness of night to give in to the pale light of morning.
“He said we’d meet here at first light. Should be any moment now.”
Daryl’s mind drifted elsewhere. Last night’s events had left him with a whirlwind of emotions and revelations. Negan’s death brought with it the triumph of war, the splendor of victory that he knew well from practically a lifetime of battle. And with war came the inevitable grief of countless lives lost. Daryl’s thoughts lingered on the duke, the prince, and the rogue Savior who’d helped them. He wondered if they’d made it out of the dungeon alive.
And when those thoughts gave way to the realization that, within only a matter of time, you would return to the arms of your father, and no longer would you be his. The king would never understand your love for each other. Why should he, anyway? Daryl was of lowly birth, even if he was a knight. As much as he wanted to believe King Ezekiel would allow him to marry you, he knew he was more likely to end up headless at the mere suggestion.
As he held you now, and as he knew you in the most sacred passions of love that you had shared, you were not just a princess, but his princess. When you were away from him, the world around you blissfully unaware of the truth, you were just a princess. Not his, at least as far as the world was concerned. Despite all logic, he knew there would need to be a time when the love between you was not hidden in the shadows of the forest.
Daryl’s pensiveness was not lost on you now. You felt him cling tighter to you as he looked off into the distance, a heaviness in his face. Your hand caressed his cheek with enough pressure to bring his attention back to you. His expression became lighter by just a tad, but whatever plagued his thoughts was still lingering.
“What is it, my love?”
“Nothing, I just…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if to rid himself of these worries. “I wish we had more time.”
Where there was once a look of concern blossomed a sweet smile that was almost potent enough to make him forget your father altogether.
“We always have time. We will make time, like we always have.”
But in your heart, you knew what he meant, and you felt the same. How long could you go on like this, hiding your love from your father? Escaping into the woods to consummate your love in secret? For as much as you loved him, and as sure as you were that your heart belonged to no one else, you were not sure how you could keep your love a secret much longer.
Still, the time would come when you could tell your father. You were sure of that.
“You told me that you’d marry me,” you whispered, lips fluttering against the soft hairs of his cheek. “You said someday, you’d marry me. And a knight always keeps his promise, especially to his lady.”
The knight let out a huff, then soon found himself nuzzled into the warmth of your hair, where memories of every moment spent in your company curled around his face in a deep, honey-scented embrace.
“Someday,” he murmured. “I promise you, my princess.”
When his lips touched yours, he felt your tremble against the cold. He pulled the cloak from his back to swing it around you and wrap you in a woolen cocoon. Pulling you ever closer, your chest was heated by the fire that seemed to perpetually burn in his. Another longer, deeper kiss, then a smile shared between the two of you.
“Perhaps one day, I will be your queen.”
His warm hands rubbed your back in steady motions as his eyes traced dreamily over your face, each curve and crevice and color another feature he would keep to memory for in those moments when he could not hold you. He wanted for nothing in this moment—everything he could’ve dreamt of wanting was here, in the shape of you.
“You are my queen.”
A new heat rouged your cheeks and ignited your heart. To be his queen seemed to be the greatest height you could ever reach, if only it meant you were the queen of his heart.
Dawn stained the sky with rich hues of rosy orange and dusty violet as you fell into another kiss, though your lips would be torn away by the distant sound of clopping hooves coming closer beyond the horizon. Not just a handful, but nearly hundreds.
But the fearful flutter in your heart soon subsided as the blue flag of Alexandria raised above the militia, their silhouettes coming into view. They were led in triumph by the king, flanked on either side by Duke Richard, and one man you did not recognize—Prince Jesus of Hilltop. In your father’s hand was the chain that leashed his mighty companion, Shiva. They were victorious, and no more would you fear Negan, nor walkers, nor death itself. Not when your knight was near.
Not even death could tear you from him, and as you held his gaze, you felt a calmness overcome you—a relief, as though you knew that everything, somehow, would be all right.
~
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Series Masterlist
#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x reader insert#daryl dixon#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead smut#the walking dead fanfic#norman reedus#norman reedus x reader#norman reedus smut#norman reedus x female reader#norman reedus fanfiction#norman reedus fanfic#norman reedus x you#norman reedus x y/n#norman reedus x reader insert#merciless beauty series#theteasetwrites fanfiction
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⋆ 𝘋𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘴 ⋆
Synopsis ꨄ︎ The truck pulls over quickly, and you know, you fucked up.
Word Count ꨄ︎ 1.7k
Warnings ꨄ︎ unprotected p in v sex. dirty talk. negan being negan. creampie. forced sexual interaction? Kinda? negan smith x fem reader (no y/n as always) (school and work are kicking my asssss folks, apologies for the week late fic)
You’ve been squirming ever since you stepped foot in his truck. A massive calloused hand splayed across your thigh. No matter how many times you shift, he never gives up.
“Negan” your voice is reduced to a low growl, clenching your thighs together as you both continue down a deserted road. Negan asked you to accompany him on a run, and although he never did them himself, he thought he might as well get some fresh air.
“What’s wrong, baby doll?” His coy smile appears on his unshaven features, making the heat worsen in the pit of your stomach. Negan knew what was wrong, but he’d be damned if he didn’t force you to admit it.
A gasp exits your throat as his fingers itch ever so close to your pressure point, sparks shooting through your body as you see his twisted smirk in your peripheral. “We're almost home, hang in there baby doll.”
Hang in there? After all his teasing he wanted you to “hang in there”? And before you could even think, your eyes moved away from the deserted roads, your fingers flying right to Negan’s belt buckle.
“No.” The words are so small, but when they come from Negan, they hold the weight of a spiked baseball bat. No? After he started the teasing?
Hell. Fucking. No.
Without accounting for his warning, you continue with your actions, not caring that Negan is driving, walkers could be anywhere, and the fact he just denied you. Your fingers loop around the buckle until you hear the satisfying click.
A sharp pain shoots through you as the truck comes to a stop, shooing you forward. Negan stops your body from contacting the dash with a large arm, the other on the steering wheel.
“Get out.”
You spin around, confused. “What?” You swear you can feel the hair on your neck stand up. “Negan, why are we stopped?”
He ignores the question, his lips forming a frown, his brows deeply etched into his face.
“Get out, baby doll.”
Negan reaches across your small body, making sure to graze your nipples with the sleeve of his leather jacket.
He pushes the car door open for you, letting the cool morning air coat your small frame. Negan says no more, and after a few milliseconds of sitting in silence, you obey him.
The hair is standing up everywhere, and your spine is even more straightened now. Whatever you just did, made Negan really upset.
His car door clicks shut with a slam, and you with nothing but the dirt of the crossroads, the slow burn of morning sun, and the wide expanse of muddied fields.
You can hear the zipper on his leather jacket rattle, the stomp of his boots as he rounds the truck, and the sudden laugh he lets escape as he sees you.
Small, vulnerable.
“Baby, now what happens when you disobey me?” Negan starts, deploying that pristine smile, one you both love and fear.
He settles against the truck, he towers over the vehicle's top, making him seem that much more intimidating. Negan’s eyes downcast on you, waiting for your response.
“Negan…you.”
Started it. You wanted to say, but his word came with a sharp delivery, comparable to a bark.
“Let’s go” He barks, waving his hand for you to hurry. In this moment you had two options, you could play dumb, act as if you didn’t know what he was referring to, or you could get this over with.
Either way, you shouldn’t have touched his goddamn belt buckle.
Stupid, stupid girl.
You quiver just a bit, fear sinking into your bones. You know Negan would never hurt you, but it didn’t stop the feeling from prickling in your stomach. “Now, Now, Dolly.” He hushes, bringing a single digit to his lips. “Don’t be scared.”
“Negan…” Your voice shakes
Negan’s voice is high-pitched, filled with amused excitement.
“There’s no getting out of this, baby girl.”
“Go on”. Negan motions to the floor and then the truck, clicking his tongue like a shepherd would his herd.
You gulp, “Against the truck…?”
So much fear is being instilled into your body right now, it’s scary. But Negan doesn’t mind, he’s made that quite obvious.
“Nope,” Negan says with a pop. “I want ya’ just how I like it.”
You knew you fucked up now. When Negan said he wanted you “just how he liked it”. Meant you on your back, legs bent up to your head, and your pussy open, ready to take him.
“Here?” You were hesitating now, trying forever to avoid this interaction, but as he just said there’s no getting out of this.
A yelp escapes you when he grabs your elbow forcefully, bending you over the hood of his truck, face pressed into the cool rusty metal. “Yes. Here.”
“Dirty slut, just couldn’t wait could ‘ya? Now look at the mess you got yourself in.” His digits move quickly over your pants, the other hand pushing you into the car’s hood. “How you lookin’ under here, sweetheart?”
“Fucking soaked, I hope.” The sound of fabric ripping fills your head, and the sharp snap of the elastic band of your pants hits your now bare thighs. Negan had completely ripped your pants off, leaving your thighs exposed to the cold air.
Negan elicits a dangerous chuckle, one finger running circles over your bare thighs, all the way up to the fabric of your underwear, replacing the digit with the pad of his thumb, pushing against your slick core.
You can’t help yourself, you buck at the feeling, moaning.
“Oooo!” Negan whistles, mocking your every move with more tantalizing touches. He moves the pad of his thumb, releasing the pressure of his hand and pushing you into the car’s hood.
“Come on, baby doll, get all sprawled out for me.”
And without any bone in your body left, you don’t protest. You are almost in tears when you obey him, Negan watching your every movement as you go around the truck, nothing but ruined panties to cover your ass, you kneel in the cold dirt.
It’s crumbled, staining your skin with mud. You hated the feeling, of being humiliated like this, but deep down someone inside of you liked it. They liked the feeling of Negan standing over her, unzipping his pants slowly with a brooding smirk as he nudges your ass with his foot.
“Legs over your head, you know the deal, baby doll.” You obey him once again, fear still racking throughout your body. You try desperately to keep your eyes open as you grip your ankles, forcing them to the side of your head, your knees up against your stomach.
“Good girl.”
Negan drops to his knees in front of you, and with the sound of dry mud being pushed around from the contact, comes the clinging of his belt buckle coming loose completely.
You can't help but wince as his fingers come up to your dirty core, and with both relief and terror, he rips your panties away, revealing your slick folds to the cold, autumn air.
“My, my, my!” He clicks his tongue, eyeing your pussy. You can’t wait any longer, you need something inside of you.
You squirm, and Negan takes that as a subtle yes. A single digit circles your folds, gathering your slick as the man above you smirks.
“You look magnificent, baby girl. And your pussy…” His pace quickens as his finger finds your entrance, and he pushes in.
You yelp at the sudden intrusion, expecting something slower, hoping Negan would allow you to adjust to his finger.
But no this was a punishment.
“She’s so dirty, isn’t she?”
You clench as Negan continues to pump his digit in and out of you, hearing the crude noises you emit, he couldn’t get enough.
“Wanna cum, honey?” Despite being pressed into the mud, on the side of the road, legs bent in an awkward position and Negan kneeling over you making sure you take everything he gives you.
He yells his next words, and you are very tempted to tell him to quiet down. But a command like that, no.
You’d be in something a lot deeper than mud
“I said, do you want to cum!”
You moan, needing more than a single calloused finger, “Yes! Please!” Negan pulled his fingers out of you, making you watch the quick movement, wincing in pain.
He uses the same hand to retrieve his hardened cock from his pants, a wet spot tainting the front. Negan eases closer to you, and the anticipation returns as he lines his tip with your entrance.
“You have 2 minutes to cum, and if you don’t, I’m gonna leave you here high n’ dry, baby girl.” Negan pushes in, bottoming out immediately. You cry out in pain, fisting nothing but dry mud as you attempt to find support.
“Look at you, this is what you wanted. My cock fucking that dirty pussy.” He thrust once, ignoring the pain elicited from your lips.
“Rub your pretty little clit for me, baby doll. Remember, you're on a time limit.” Despite the pain from Negan's cock stretching you, and the fact your eyes are rolling back into your heads, you find your fingers going to where Negan's cock pumps furiously in and out of you.
You moan from the pleasure, rubbing sloppy circles over your bud, watching the imaginary clock tick by.
You need to cum.
If you don’t, you might just explode.
Negan groans, watching the way you clench around him, the wet sloppy noise coming from where your bodies connect.
“You close? 30 more seconds.” He grunts, and you are so close to the edge that it feels painful. And you know Negan is drawing his cock in slow strokes on purpose, trying his best to delay your orgasm.
You rub your clit harder, focusing on the pleasure of the action alone. “Come on, baby girl. Give it to me, make a mess on my cock.” His words are rushed, pushing you further, past your breaking point
And with those words, you cum, your whole body convulsing as Negan's own release rocks through him, and without asking he cums inside you, filling your stomach.
“Good girl, Only 10 seconds to spare.”
Prick.
#masterlist#fanfic#oneshot#smut#fluff#negan smith#twd negan#negan x reader#the walking dead#the walking dead negan#twd
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