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perplexedflower · 3 months ago

Text

Unharmed, Untouched

Fandom: The Walking Dead (Comics).

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Negan x Female Reader.

Type: One shot.

Words: 9,005.

Summary: [Y/N], a young woman under the supervision of Rick Grimes gets confronted in Alexandria by Negan during one of his weekly supply runs, before he eventually makes them an offer: in exchange for not taking any of Alexandria's resources for the time being, he wishes to temporarily take her instead…

Chronology: Issues #100 - #115.

~~~~~~~~~~

"He'll be here in a couple hours or so... should be, at least."

"I know."

"I need you to stay put when he shows up, alright?"

"Anywhere you want me to be in particular?"

"No... As long as you make sure to keep as much distance away from him as possible."

We looked ahead, staring at the gentle swaying of the trees on the other side of the street. And we both kept quiet, simply listening to the noises of agitation slowly rising in the air, all coming from the direction of the main gate.

"... You know, I'm not a kid, Rick." I eventually said after some time.

"I never said you were, [Y/N]."

"Even though you sure as hell treat me like one."

"Is that really how you see things?" Rick asked as he turned his body to me, staring me down. "[Y/N], I'm only trying my absolute best to protect you, here. I'm not sheltering you, I'm not forcing you to stay inside and hidden, I'm not holding your hand and telling you what to do... Am I?"

"No, you're not. But you treat me like Carl. You treat me like I can't handle myself and can't think for myself. I'm not like him, Rick—"

"Trust me, that's one thing I wholly agree with you about."

"Seriously, you don't have to tell me about it." I said with a scoff. "I know what he's made of, what he's capable of, what he's been through... I haven't been here for all of it, but enough to know your son's no ordinary little boy. And I mean this in the most positive way possible. Hell, sometimes I even wonder if he isn't actually stronger than me."

"He's not, I can tell you that much." He responded as he looked down at the ground. "He likes to put up this front, convince everyone he's stronger than most and doesn't back down easily... and part of it is true, but I know he's scared deep down, I know he has doubts, he just doesn't like letting it show... he thinks people won't think as highly of him if he shows weakness."

"Hmm, funny how this description reminds me a lot of another Grimes I know of..." I joked with a gentle elbow nudge.

"Tell me about it..." Rick sighed. "He has only grown out to be like this after looking up to me and mimicking my behavior so much... I actually feel more guilty about it than you know, and more than he knows... more than anyone knows, really..."

I took a step closer to him and gently rested both of my hands on his shoulders, a soft expression on my face he could not see, as his eyes remained closed.

"Hey, I know enough as it is... We don't have to get into any of this right now, Rick. Besides, it's really not the place nor the time. We've got to keep our heads in the game."

I gave him some time to recompose himself, after which I let go of him and buried my hands back inside my pockets.

"All I'm trying to make you understand is, you don't have to worry about me more than you do any of the others. Watching over Carl? I get it, he's your son, I know damn well you'd do about anything for him. But I don't want you to take extra measures to protect me, and you have no reason to."

"[Y/N], how could you say that?" Rick asked, sounding almost offended. "Carl is my son, of course... But I still care about you, about Andrea, about Michonne, about everyone here living with us. Just because we're not blood doesn't mean I shouldn't ensure your safety just the same."

With those words, the emotions in his gaze changed, shifting from frustration to anger.

"Besides, you're wrong. I do have reasons to take extra measures to protect you."

"Really? Against what?"

"Do you even need to ask?" He rhetorically said as he grabbed my arm. "I see the way that bastard looks at you whenever you enter his field of vision... I don't like it."

"Trust me, I like it about just as much as you do... But he's Negan, Rick. He looks at every woman the same way, in his eyes I'm not any different from his harem of 'wives' Carl told us about."

"And that's precisely what worries me, [Y/N]." He continued, his left hand still grabbing my arm. "I wouldn't trust a man like him around any woman. So I need you to promise me to always keep your gun on you at all times when he's around. I know you're not too fond of firing your pistol, and I know you're not the sharpest shooter out of all of us, but you know enough to defend yourself if things go south—"

"Woah, woah, Rick!" I cut him off as I shook my head, opening my arms and making him lose his grip on me in the process. "What are you talking about, here? You think I'm going to kill Negan? Have you lost your mind, even suggesting anything like that ever happening? Even if I wanted to— Hell, even if I could, I don't think it'd ever be possible for me to go through with it. I'm not saying I'm a pussy who's afraid of him... Though, I can't deny I'm not too at ease just breathing close to him... But have you seen him? That motherfucker is shaped like a refrigerator, he's almost two heads taller than me, and twice my weight— And it's all muscles... Seriously, Rick, what could I ever do to him?"

"Thanks, you're really helping me feel reassured about you..." He let out, upset, as he rubbed his eyes.

"And you know it's not just his physique that's the problem." I added. "That man is fucked in the head, he's a psycho, a killing machine, a ruthless and unpredictable sociopath. And on top of that, he's smarter and more cunning than he lets on... With or without weapons, he could beat me into the ground in no less than 10 seconds if he wanted to."

"You really think I don't know that? I know he could kill me without breaking too much of a sweat if he really felt like it, and I know I'd be damn powerless against him if that was to happen. So trust me, I have a good idea of how easy it'd be for him to attack you. But your gun's not useless. It never is. If you use it intelligently, to your advantage, it can save your life, even if you're not using it to try and take his."

Another moment of silence settled between the two of us, albeit only briefly.

"... I hear you." I finally said in response, somewhat reluctant to admit he was right. "But don't you worry, I might not enjoy toying around with my pistol too much, but I still sure as hell like to have it holstered around my belt, carrying it around feels good... feels safe."

"That's all I wanted to hear." He said affectionately as he placed his hand on my back. "And thank you, [Y/N]."

"Of course... Rick."

God damn it... I almost called him "dad" again... I thought to myself, feeling my smile slowly fading away. I know it's no big deal, I've let it slip out before, and he didn't make a fuss about it... but I know it's still hard for him to hear it, no matter how much he tries to convince me he's comfortable with it...

I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes in an attempt to regain my composure, not wanting Rick to start worrying even more about me.

I just need to give him some time, to let it go for now, as best as I can, and I'll only—

"That's earlier than expected—" Rick suddenly spoke up, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What's up?"

Already walking away from me, he did not bother to turn back my way.

"He's here."

Looking in the direction of where he was headed, my eyes landed on the main gate once again, only this time the other side was even more crowded, and not with the dead.

"All right... I'm going to stay by the house." I told Rick before I began turning around myself. "But if I see or hear anything suspicious around here, I can't promise I won't come running to you."

Without another word from either of us, I swallowed the lump of tension trapped inside of my throat and promptly made my way back home, located only a few houses away. I walked without looking back at what was happening behind me, no matter how tempting it was; once having arrived at my destination, I crossed into the small yard and stopped just at the bottom of the steps leading up to our front door. And now came the real challenge: waiting.

I had never been much of a patient individual all my life, and unfortunately for me, the zombie apocalypse we had to live through had only made it worse. But it was at its worst when it had to do with the others, especially Rick. I had come to learn how much of a problem magnet that man was over my time living by his side, and I had also come to learn that wherever he would go, trouble would always follow. And when the trouble following him in question was a near 6' 5" sociopath wielding a baseball bat craftily wrapped in barbed wire, the wait was particularly agonizing.

But I sucked it up and carried his orders, staying put right where I was standing, not moving a muscle, aside from the ones in my neck as I continuously scanned from right to left the street a short distance away from me, watching out for any danger. And just then, my eyes did catch sight of danger: walking down past our house and into the heart of our town was Negan, standing right beside Rick, the two men seemingly in the middle of a serious conversation.

I watched them walk slowly, watched him, a faint sense of unease growing within my stomach; until I watched him suddenly turn his head to me, my heartbeat rising and my eyes widening while his gaze met mine. I froze in place and held my breath as I saw the smile on his lips, a smile I had seen before but which still felt just as unsettling, just as troubling, and just as soul-stirring. I could not bring myself to look away, nor to even blink once, my gaze escorting him down the street, as if afraid to break eye contact with him, as if convinced he would disappear into thin air the moment I would lose sight of him.

Until, eventually, he turned back to Rick and carried on with his end of the discussion, his cold grin slipping from his lips as though he had not just laid eyes on me, as though only a split second had gone by. And there I was, left alone to stand on my front porch, my thoughts completely jumbled up and my emotions scattered about inside me. With Negan and Rick out of my sight, I was left with nothing but time on my hands, so I took the opportunity to quickly get inside the house and grab myself a large drink of water, my throat feeling surprisingly dry; then, just as quickly as I had entered, I stepped back outside, reclaiming my position in front of the steps. And it was back to waiting for me. Waiting for this whole thing to be over, waiting for The Saviors to leave our town, along with half of our resources, a deal I was still very bitter over, but I knew it could not be helped: after what had happened to Glenn, it was clear to me that it was either our rations, or our lives.

Besides, I knew Rick had things under control, I was well aware of his plan: playing along with the contract agreement, making everyone believe Negan had him under his thumb, not going against his orders, while he was actually secretly planning for an attack against him and his army, buying time to build one of his own and retaliate. I found it clever, although undeniably risky, and so I did not bother questioning it.

Rick knows what he's doing. It really is a fucking pain in the ass that The Saviors have to drop by here every now and then to steal half of our shit, in addition to spreading fear among everyone... But it's only necessary for now, it won't last. Eventually, Rick will restore Alexandria and its people to the way they were before, I know he will... I believe in him, and I know so does everybody else.

With that last note of hope in mind, I resumed my job as lookout, carefully observing the perimeter around me to make sure nothing was getting out of hand; growing tired of standing on my feet after a few minutes of uneventful waiting, I began contemplating the idea of taking a seat by the stairs, my legs already starting to feel sore.

There's a whole lot of jackshit happening... Truly no reason for me to stay mounted like this, really. It seems there's nothing to worry about today... I suppose I was too paranoid, as usual.

Yet, before I had time to even turn around and crouch down over the steps behind me, I realized my paranoia had not been unfounded, the moment I saw Negan walking back up our street, on his own, his only companion being the baseball bat resting on his shoulder, with Rick nowhere in sight.

Why's he not with him? I anxiously asked myself.

But as quickly as it had emerged, I discarded my question and brushed it aside: there was no cause for concern, no need to panic, as Rick was surely just busy preparing a part of our offerings to give to The Saviors, while Negan was simply making his way back to his men by their truck. And I was quite convinced that was the truth, up until he turned his attention my way once again and stared me right in the eyes, just as he had done a few minutes prior. Except this time, Rick was not by his side to keep him busy, keep him focused; except this time, he stopped in the middle of the street, his gaze getting my blood pumping. It was then that I felt my entire body suddenly tense up, as he started to unexpectedly make his way towards me, losing all interest in the road he was walking to instead approach the house, his steps slow and heavy, but assured.

Keep calm... Nothing's going to happen... Simply breathe deeply and don't let him sense your fear.

But it was much easier thought than done, and my right hand twitched ever so slightly as it instinctively came to rest on my belt, near my gun. I gulped and straightened my back before I took a couple of hesitant steps in his direction, ready to stand my ground.

"My, my... What do we have here?" He asked as he stepped into the front yard, arms wide open. "Left all fucking alone out here, aren't you, sweetheart?"

His smile was even more bloodcurdling up close. Having stopped barely a foot in front of me, his figure towered over mine, forcing me to crane my neck upwards to look at his face; by simply standing so close to him, I could feel my heart hammering away in my chest, so fast it almost hurt.

"... Well?" Negan asked with a raised eyebrow, his head slightly cocked. "I'm goddamn nice enough to take some of my very precious time and spend it on you, and you won't even fucking indulge me in some small talk?"

My palms already getting sweaty, I slowly clenched and unclenched my fists as I held my breath.

"... Alright, got a topic of discussion in mind?" I asked him in return, my tone solemn.

"As a matter of fact, I do. You." He answered as he pressed his right index finger against my collarbone. "Your name, for starters. Third time I've laid eyes on you and no one's ever fucking bothered telling me what your name is around here. Fucking shame, I know."

"... It's [Y/N]." I told him after a brief moment of silence.

"Marvelous." He said, his grin growing slightly larger. "I won't forget it any time soon, cross my goddamn heart and hope to fucking die... Pardon my poor choice of words, shouldn't throw around phrases like that these days."

I silently listened to him chuckle, still looking up at his face, although it was becoming harder and harder for me to maintain eye contact with him, my instincts screaming at me to lower my gaze, else I would soon come to regret it; just then, he opened his eyes back and it was now too late for me to back down, finding myself trapped once more in the hazel of his irises.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, [Y/N], but you weren't one of the poor bastards who were part of the little run-in me and my men had with your people, were you?" He asked while placing his right hand on his hip, his other still holding onto his deadly weapon.

"Yeah... That's right, I wasn't there."

"Didn't think so." He said with a slow and steady nod, seemingly deep in thought.

"But Rick told me everything." I promptly added, my tone bitter.

"I'm sure he did. I mean, let's not fucking kid ourselves here, we both know— Everyone here knows I made them sit through that shit for a reason." He declared proudly. "I had one hell of a message to get across, and first impressions always need to be done right. So what better way to leave a lasting impact on these people's minds than scarring them for life? Trust me, the shit they saw me do that day, it doesn't just go away after one night's sleep... It lingers on and it makes them talk, then the details get spread around, and more and more people start pissing their pants just thinking about me."

Pausing for only a second or two, he brandished his baseball bat around, as if admiring it.

"Now, as much as that thought gets my dick hard, I can't say I'm too pleased with how things went down... You see, I'd rather avoid having to kill any more of you, if I can. You're no fucking good to me dead, I can't collect shit from you if you're all six feet under— I'm sure you can understand that, you seem like a smart enough girl. Point is, Rick forced my hand and I was left with no other choice but to bash in one of his friends' skulls in retaliation... But hey, in the end that got him to kneel down and let me put the collar around his neck, so who am I to fucking complain?"

Negan paused for the second time, but this time, it was me he was admiring, his body leaning closer to mine by a mere inch.

"Truth is, [Y/N], I don't particularly enjoy going around bashing Asian-American brains, it's not my sport of choice... but it had to be done."

"Glenn. His name was Glenn." I informed him in a firm tone, not giving him a chance to continue talking.

"What the fuck does it matter now what his name was? He's long dead, that's all that matters."

Overwhelmed by my emotions, I was unable to come up with anything to say to him in return as I simply stood before him, in silence; his piercing gaze was still as focused on mine as ever, his expression cold, until a glimpse of sincerity unexpectedly appeared on his face.

"... You know what? I say we stop talking about this Glenn, I can clearly tell you didn't take kindly to my words just now and that you cared a whole fucking lot for that poor fucker... So let's change the topic a bit before you actually snap and jump at my throat."

With these words, the coldness in his traits soon diminished, replaced with a faint playfulness. Ever so slowly, he rested his right hand on his thigh for support and leaned forward, bringing his face close to mine, so close I could feel his warm breath on my skin.

"Do you want to know how I know you weren't there that day?" He asked in a deep voice, even deeper than usual.

Tilting his head just a little, he squinted and pointed right at the center of my face with his index finger.

"It's your eyes." He whispered. "That look you have in your eyes whenever you stare at me... That fucking look... It's not a look I'd be likely to forget, and something tells me I would've seen it that day."

I gulped for the second time, feeling my breath grow shallower and shallower as the seconds passed, as his eyes intensely scanned mine.

"It's like a goddamn firework of emotions in those eyes... I can see anger and of course fear, but not as much as I'd have expected... But there's more, there's so much fucking more... There's hopelessness, confusion, and even a trace of pity, which, I'll have you know, I really don't fucking appreciate. But you know what really catches my attention? It's that spark, that glimpse of... excitement? Thrill? Whatever you want to call it, it's there."

For a few more seconds, Negan lost himself in my gaze, before he finally leaned back and held his head straight, allowing me to start breathing normally again in the comfort of my personal space, despite how close his body still was to mine.

"Out on the road, that day, there sure as hell wasn't a single look like yours on your little friends' faces as I lined them up. They all looked pathetic as shit... It was depressing, frankly. Well, except for Rick, but we both know he's not like the rest."

As he stared down at me, his grin was quick to come back, only this time it covered a single side of his face.

"... I think I'd have liked seeing that look." He said with what sounded like honesty. "Would have made the whole goddamn experience all the more memorable."

Looking away from me for just a few seconds, he turned his attention to his baseball bat as he carefully placed it over his shoulder.

"One thing's for damn sure, though." He said upon turning back to me. "I wouldn't have picked you, [Y/N]."

"I thought you had made your choice randomly?" I asked him, half confused, half suspicious.

"Oh, I did. I couldn't really play favorites, I try not to, ruins the fun too much. But for you... I think I would've made an exception."

My eyes opened slightly wider, the curious and confused voice in my head shouting at me to ask him why, but although my mouth briefly opened, I was unable to articulate even that single word.

"... Killing you would have been a real fucking waste, if you ask me." He added in a surprisingly sultry tone, his smile more prominent than ever.

"What's going on here?!"

Surprised by the sudden voice that had risen behind us, we both turned our heads to the direction of the sound, only to see Rick approaching us at a fast pace, a clear expression of anger on his face.

"Rick—"

"Well, looks like Daddy Rick is back." Negan said as he turned his body and sent a grin his way, although he made sure to maintain his close proximity to me.

"He's not my dad." I corrected him, feeling slightly awkward. "Not... biologically, I mean..."

With Rick only a few feet away from us now, Negan faced me again and slightly lowered his head: I caught myself holding my breath as he reached for my chin with his right hand, trapping it between his thumb and index finger, the leather of his glove feeling cold on my skin.

"I could've easily guessed that. You're way too fucking pretty to be sharing the same genes as him." He said with brutal honesty in a guttural voice, his hand forcing my head to tilt upwards at him.

"I'd appreciate it if you could refrain from touching her." Rick ordered him in a snappy tone, his anger having not toned down in the slightest.

I was still processing his unexpected compliment which had caught me completely off guard when I realized he had not stopped looking down into my eyes, his fingers having not yet let go of my chin; for a few more seconds, neither of us moved, until he finally complied to Rick's request and retracted his hand. And as he did so, he observed my expression and a shimmer of malicious intent appeared in his eyes, his smile remaining present the whole time.

"I'll ask again. What is going on here?" Rick repeated, seemingly exasperated and suspicious while turning to Negan. "What do you want with [Y/N]?"

"Look at you, all worried and protective. How fucking adorable." He teased him in response.

"Rick, everything's alright." I reassured him as I took a step towards him and shook my head, my palms open. "Negan only came up to me because he wanted to talk to me... Believe it or not. We really were just talking, I'm fine, don't worry."

Still skeptical even despite my attempt at dispelling his fears, he squinted his eyes and stared daggers at Negan, as if trying to make him confess.

"I really don't think that look is fucking necessary, no sirree." He said with a light shrug, putting up an innocent front. "You heard the girl, we were just talking. Like two fucking civilized individuals."

"If that's the case, then I say this is the end of your conversation." Rick fired back, not letting down his guard. "If you're done here, you should leave."

With a determined step, he approached him and stood tall in front of him, his gaze piercing.

"... I think your men are waiting for you." He added coldly.

For a few seconds, Negan stared back at him in silence, visibly pondering over his thoughts: his eyes then traveled to me, lingering, and by the time they were back on Rick's, his lips had shifted to a faint smile.

"... Let them wait longer." He finally said. "As a matter of fact, I am not fucking done here."

Wariness could be read on Rick's face as he listened to him, as Negan opened one of his arms.

"I've been doing some good fucking thinking over here, while you were busy telling me to fuck off your lawn." He said with his head slightly tilted to the side. "I'd like to make a deal with you."

"We already have a deal in place." Rick began to protest. "You're already taking half of our resources away for yourself... Is that not enough?"

"If you had the decency to let me fucking finish, you'd know that's what I want to talk to you about, asshole." He quickly responded, his brow furrowed in irritation.

I stood beside the two men in silence as I watched their exchange go down, not quite daring to interrupt either of them.

"As you said so just now, I pay this little town a visit every week or so to claim what's mine— And yes, before you start fucking protesting again, those offerings are rightfully ours, it's the rules of the game." Negan continued. "But we've got one hell of a problem on our hands— Well, you've got one hell of a problem on your hands. And I'm offering you a way to help. I'll be expecting a mother fucking 'thank you' after all of this is over."

His left arm still open, his other still holding his baseball bat over his shoulder, he leaned forward by just an inch.

"You're running out of damn near everything." He said while pointing to the houses around us with his thumb. "I would know, I take half of it. And don't even get me fucking started on your food and ammo."

Hating having to admit he was right, Rick's eyebrows furrowed in frustration, which conveyed his inner feelings clearly despite his silence.

"I can see times are tough for your people lately, so I'm willing to make you an offer they'll all fucking appreciate. How generous of me."

"Just get to it already." Rick ordered him, not fully convinced.

"Fine, you impatient prick." He said in a snarky tone. "This time around— And this time only, I won't be taking a single fucking thing from your stocks."

Both Rick and I raised our eyebrows in surprise, but we knew there had to be more to it: Negan turned to me, smiling threateningly.

"... In exchange for her." He finished as he pointed right at me with his index finger.

"Woah!" I exclaimed. "Wait a minute—"

"What?!" Rick interrupted me, just as shocked. "You're saying you want [Y/N] to be your offering?! That's your deal?!"

But above and beyond the confusion, what could be truly perceived in his voice was anger.

"You're expecting us to just hand her over to you?! What makes you think we'd be ok with that?!" He carried on, his body language now frantic. "And what good would that even do you? Why would that benefit you over taking half of our supplies?"

"Because I want insurance." Negan answered, his expression grave. "The last fucking time I saw you, you were out on the road, on your way to meet me. And how mother fucking convenient it was for us to run into each other like that..."

The look in Rick's eyes subtly changed, and we both understood very clearly what he was trying to imply.

"... But I know that was more than a simple fucking coincidence." He added as he leaned closer to Rick. "No, you knew exactly where the fuck you were going... I'm not quite sure how, but you did."

I remained completely silent, not wanting to give anything away, though I could not help but nibble at my lower lip in discontentment: that day, we had indeed taken to the road with the intent of getting Carl back from him, which we had only been able to do with the directions given by Jesus, the only one of us who knew exactly where his base of operations was. And now, he had figured it out and we could no longer keep it hidden from him.

"But here's the thing... My Saviors and I don't appreciate unwelcome guests in our little Sanctuary."

Without diverting his eyes from Rick, he outstretched his arm in my direction once again and opened his hand.

"So, you scheming piece of shit, this is my offer... The only thing I take back with me today is the little lady right here, and you can count on me to treat her fucking right... Make her feel right at home. Now, none of your goddamn people comes knocking at my front door, none of my men gets attacked by yours... I don't lay a fucking finger on her. And ten days from now, when I come to visit you again, I'll return her to you, in perfect condition. Free fucking shipping. But if you try anything— And I mean any-fucking-thing while she's with me... Well, let's just say I won't be keeping any of my promises."

I was left speechless, unable to figure out how to even react: Negan wanted to use me as a token of peace to ensure Rick would not launch an attack on him any time soon, even if it was at the cost of not getting his weekly rations from us. And although he was no longer as agitated, I could tell Rick was just as opposed to the idea as before.

"[Y/N] is not an object for you to just take." He told him, the revolt in his voice audible. "Besides, this is all unnecessary... You don't have to do any of this."

"Bullshit I don't." Negan promptly responded as he tapped on Rick's chest with his index finger, visibly applying more pressure that time than he had done with me earlier. "I need to do this, because I can tell you still don't fucking trust me— You still don't fucking think I can be reasonable... Fucking shit, I returned your little boy to you safe and sound after he'd snuck into my goddamn property, didn't I?"

"And it's precisely because you already took Carl before that I don't want to put [Y/N] through it now!"

"In case you forgot, I didn't take your asshole son." He corrected him. "He willingly invited himself inside my truck... He knew exactly what he was getting himself into. And not only did he try to fucking kill me, but he also shot down over five of my men. You should be grateful I didn't make him pay accordingly— And so should he. Yet I didn't hear a single fucking 'thank you' then, and I'm still not hearing one now."

"Uh... If neither of you minds, I'd like to speak for myself." I hesitantly jumped into the conversation, my tone expressing a tinge of frustration.

Both men turned to me, their gazes deep and their expressions solemn, which only further lowered my confidence; I gulped and straightened my back, trying as best as I could to stand tall and proud beside them.

"This is me we're talking about here... I think I'm allowed to have a say in this."

As uncertain as Rick seemed to be about the entire situation, I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was understanding of my wish to express my personal point of view. Negan, on the other hand, stared at me with the same intensity as before, only this time his usual grin was nowhere to be seen.

"Rick, I appreciate you standing up for me, I really do... Thank you." I told him as I smiled at him. "Frankly, you have every right to be against the idea of entrusting me into Negan's hands... Believe me, I'm not too enthusiastic about it myself. So I completely understand your reluctance."

With those words, I looked down for a second, collecting my thoughts and putting them in order, before I raised my head at Negan.

"... But I think I want to go." I assuredly declared.

"[Y/N], I can't—"

"No, let me finish." I interrupted him with a hand gesture. "... Please."

I was not surprised in the slightest by Rick's reaction, I had expected as much from him: fearful and distrustful, he only wanted to keep me safe and make sure he would not let anything bad happen to me. But that was my chance to show him I could hold my own and pull my weight just fine, for the good of the community.

"I know you see this as sending me on a suicide mission... But I see it differently." I explained as I turned back to him. "Negan is right in saying our resources have become scarce... You know this better than any of us, really. We've got a lot of people to feed here, we've burned through a considerable amount of our ammo already, and the shelves in the infirmary are barely half full. If me leaving for ten days means our supplies don't have to leave Alexandria, even if it's only for ten days... That'll still be something. A head start of some sort."

Locking eyes with him, it was obvious to me that he was finding it difficult to swallow these truths, no matter how much faith he was ready to have in me.

"Besides, I know how you feel about it, but even you have to admit that nothing happened to Carl when he was away. Negan was even willing to make the trip all the way here just to drop him off... Which I know is only par for the course, but he could have very well just put him through much worse, had he wanted to."

"Some fucking recognition at last." Negan peevishly spoke up while rolling his eyes.

"Not only that, but it was different for Carl." I continued, ignoring his snarky comment. "He tried to infiltrate the place armed with a machine gun, I'd be walking in through the front door as a 'guest'... The circumstances are vastly different. More than that, he's a child and I'm an adult, I can handle myself."

Finally, Rick's expression progressively began to soften and I knew I had managed to start making him change his mind; but a trace of hesitation remained on his face, and it persisted.

"... Why would it have to be you out of everyone here?" He asked doubtfully as he slowly shook his head. "And I am not saying I would rather send someone else in your place— Ideally, I would not want anyone to go..."

"Why do you think?" Negan answered him, his trademark smile back on his lips. "Only her can guarantee proper fucking insurance."

His cold gaze moved over to me for a moment, too short for me to stare back at him, but long enough to make me feel uneasy at my core.

"It's crystal fucking clear that after your son and your special lady, she's the one person you'd do anything to keep safe."

Leaning close to Rick, his smile grew even further.

"... Something tells me your overprotective ass wouldn't risk doing anything too fucking stupid if you knew it would put her in danger... Or am I wrong?"

The silence that followed only confirmed his hypothesis, which he seemed to find great satisfaction in.

"And what better mother fucking way to prove you I can be goddamn reasonable than by having her come with me?" He asked with his arms open. "I seriously doubt you can question my trust again after I bring her back here, unharmed, untouched."

His body then pivoted, now oriented between the two of us, his arms still outstretched and the glimmer in his eyes more taunting than ever.

"After all, I've already given your first prick of a kid the tour of my Sanctuary before, so why not give it to your second one as well?" He joked, clearly amused by the situation.

"I'm not a kid." I fired back without masking my irritation.

The words had barely left my mouth when I felt Negan's hand on my face, both of my cheeks pinched between his fingers as he forced my chin up.

"Are you a virgin?" He asked me outright, his deep voice deprived of any shame.

Utterly flustered by such an unexpected, intrusive question, I raised my eyebrows high and opened my mouth slightly, though no words came out.

"That's none of your damn business!" Rick exclaimed, visibly offended on my behalf.

"Kindly shut the fuck up." Negan angrily ordered him as he turned his head to him. "This conversation is between her and I."

Bringing all of his attention back to me, his head above mine, he stared right down into my eyes.

"So... You still have your virginity?" He asked again with the same genuine curiosity.

His grin had never looked more off-putting than at that moment: maintaining eye contact with him was becoming harder and harder. But despite my reluctance to share such private details about myself with him, I felt compelled to give him an honest answer, whether or not it was the one he would want to hear.

"... No." I bashfully confessed.

My cheeks turned pink, the temperature of my face feeling higher than usual, even with the cold leather of his glove on my skin.

"... I'm 23, not 16." I added in a frustrated tone.

He silently scanned my expression, as if it would help him learn more, until he finally let go of me.

"I suppose you're less of a fucking kid than I thought you were." He let out teasingly.

Indignant and upset, I glared at him with nothing to say in return, simply watching him bring his baseball bat to rest on his shoulder, after which I crossed my arms on my chest.

"... Either way, I am going." I told the two men in front of me, reiterating my choice. "I've already stated my arguments, and I think I'm enough of an adult to make this kind of decision... If anyone should have the right to say whether or not I'm going, it's me."

And with that, the debate was closed. Rick once more looked at me with those eyes, understanding yet desolate; not angry, not sad, but purely bereft.

"Okay then. If everything's settled, let's not waste any more fucking time here." Announced Negan with a sign of the hand. "You got ten minutes to pack whatever shit you have to take with you while I tell my men to unload the truck."

Letting his eyes glide over me one last time, he showed me his smile before turning around and stepping off our front yard, walking away back to the gates. So, without a second to lose, I followed his command and made my way inside the house; Rick hot on my trail.

"[Y/N]—" He began calling out.

But I ignored him as I opened the front door and entered the living room, only to find Carl sitting on one of the sofas, a book in his hands.

"Is everything alright?" He asked while looking up at us both. "... Is Negan causing trouble here today?"

"Everything's fine, Carl. Don't worry." I reassured him with a smile.

Walking past where he was, I stopped right by the couch and could feel my smile turn bittersweet as I looked down at him.

"... I'm just going to have to leave Alexandria for a few days."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Rick will have to explain everything to you, I don't really have the time to get into details right now... Sorry." I answered, my smile now completely gone.

Not wishing to elaborate any further or waste any more time, I kept walking and went up the stairs, heading for my bedroom.

"[Y/N], wait." Rick called again, still following behind me.

Once inside my room, I crouched to pick up my backpack from the floor then put it down on my bed.

"I'm listening." I finally told him while opening my bag.

"I appreciate you wanting to do your part for the community, I truly do and I want you to know it. But this isn't just a bad idea, [Y/N], it's also a very dangerous one."

The first item I packed was my toothbrush, sitting in a glass on my nightstand; even without having toothpaste, I found it important to keep it with me.

"What, you think I don't know that? I'm the one making this willing decision to go, and trust me when I say I hate having to make it."

Second was my comb, sitting right beside the glass; it was no brush, but enough to help me keep my hair in check.

"Then why are you so determined on going? I know you're smart enough to know the risks, and I know it's hurting you having to do this... So how can you be so sure of yourself?"

Third came my notebook and my pen, tucked away in a corner of the room; having had them since the very beginning of the outbreak, they were always handy to have around.

"I'm not, I'm only being realistic. You know well he wouldn't have taken 'no' for an answer... Even if he disguised his supposed deal as something we could have declined, it's clear he would've forced my hand had I not made up my mind on my own."

Then followed a couple of books, piled against one of the walls; some had been with me since the beginning, others I had borrowed from friends in Alexandria.

"No, there's more than that... I'm convinced we could have reasoned with him, maybe asked him for another deal that wouldn't have involved you going. But instead, you agreed almost immediately..."

Finally, I took all of the clothes I had, scattered about on my bed; it was no more than a few spare shirts and pants, but it could not hurt to pack it all.

"... It's like you want to go." He added, a trace of judgment in his voice.

"Well, a part of me does, yes." I told him as I turned around, finally looking him in the eyes for the first time since the beginning of our conversation. "Rick, can't you see? This is perfect, perfect for us, perfect for you..."

I paused for only a second, the time for me to close the door to my room.

"... Perfect for your plan of attack." I finished in a quieter voice, not wanting Carl to hear us from downstairs.

The surprise on Rick's face was unconcealed.

"How do you know about that?" He asked me with a hint of concern. "I haven't yet told you anything about it..."

"I know... I've overheard you talking about it with Andrea lately." I replied while sitting down on my bed.

A moment of silence settled between the two of us, brief but still heavy.

"... I'm sorry if you've felt like I've been lying to you and keeping things hidden from you." He apologized, his sentiment genuine. "It's just a very risky plan, and I'd rather handle it on my own for now."

"I know. You don't have to apologize to me, I'm not mad at you for it... Really, I get it."

"I hope everyone else will react the same way when I tell them." He scoffed. "... How much do you know, exactly?"

"Pretty much everything, I believe." I answered while shrugging. "I know you're secretly preparing to launch an attack on The Saviors, I know you're lying to everyone in Alexandria by making them believe Negan's got you defenseless and submitted to him, I know you've been hard at work trying to recruit members of other communities to fight alongside you... And I know that Dwight guy has come in contact with you just a day ago or so to let you know he's ready to turn his back on Negan."

With a sigh, he mirrored my movement and sat down as well.

"That's about all of it, yeah."

"I know you're scared about me leaving with Negan for ten whole days... but, if anything, this is a golden opportunity." I explained. "I can gather information while I'm there, a lot more than what Carl could tell us after he came back... Anything that could help you. Hell, now that we know that Dwight is on our side, I could even try approaching him and exchanging information with him while I'm there—"

"Absolutely not." Rick cut me off dismissively. "We don't actually know for certain whether Dwight really is on our side or not... I still don't fully trust him, I want to make sure he's not hiding any tricks up his sleeve... I don't want to take any risks when it comes to Negan."

"Alright... That's fair." I nodded. "But at the very least, we should take advantage of the fact that I'll be this close to him and discuss what I could try doing... I mean, who knows, maybe I'll get a window of opportunity to strike—"

"Are you out of your mind?!" He exclaimed as he stood up from the bed. "Whatever happened to 'I could never kill Negan'?"

Unable to give him a valid answer, I simply remained silent and looked down at my hands on my lap.

"We've been over this already, you simply couldn't do it... And even less so while you're staying there." He continued. "Let's say— For the sake of argument, you do get a chance to kill him— Then what? You'd be trapped inside a huge factory, surrounded by the dozens and dozens of men under his command... You wouldn't make it out alive. Even if it means successfully getting rid of him, doing it under such circumstances isn't worth it if it costs you your life."

I could discern the worry in his tone, walking hand-in-hand with desperation.

"No, I do not want you snooping around while you're there." He firmly stated. "I know I've told you before, and I know you've told me you're well aware of it, but you don't seem to realize the gravity of it— This is dangerous, [Y/N]. You're not going on a scouting mission, you're letting yourself become Negan's hostage. While you're away, with him, you'll have to do whatever he asks of you... You won't have a choice but to do things his way, live by his rules. And you, having to stay there for so long, is already risky enough as it is... I don't need you putting your life on the line trying anything too reckless and uncertain."

Although his words were assertive, the footsteps that followed after them were light, slow, and gentle: standing in front of me, Rick reached for my shoulder with his left hand and held it tight.

"... This is why I'm scared for you, [Y/N]." He said affectionately. "Even if it was me going, I'd fear for myself."

I stared up into his eyes, so caring, before I covered his hand with mine and smiled faintly.

"... I understand. I'll be careful, I promise."

With those few words of comfort, he removed his hand, allowing me to stand up as well; though there was no way for me to accurately keep track of time, I could tell my ten minutes of remaining freedom in Alexandria were almost over, and it was time for me to go see Negan. But before leaving my room, I crouched and picked up my crowbar lying by the leg of my bed, then crammed it into my backpack.

"I'm not you, but I can still hold my own." I confidently told him as I zipped my bag.

Throwing it over one of my shoulders, I walked out of my bedroom, Rick still following behind me; making my way back downstairs, I passed Carl in the living room once more.

"Alright, it's time for me to go." I told him. "I'll see you in a few days, Carl... Take good care of Rick while I'm gone, okay? Don't let him do anything stupid and make sure to protect him."

Getting a chuckle out of him and a scoff out of Rick with that playful remark, the two of us exited the house and headed for the front gates. There awaited Negan, standing beside his truck, one hand on his hip and the other still clinging onto that baseball bat of his.

"You sure took your sweet fucking time..." He said sneeringly as I approached him.

"You're the one who gave me ten minutes."

"Just because I did doesn't mean you had to use all fucking ten of them."

His eyes looked past my face and at Rick, standing behind me, which brought his usual, oddly-friendly-looking smile back.

"And would you look at that? Daddy even came to see you off." He teased us.

I sighed and rolled my eyes at him, not bothering to engage and instead walking up to the passenger door of the van.

"Ladies first." He said while opening it for me, his arm outstretched.

I leaned forward and took a peek inside, only to notice that there were not even two full seats beside the driver, already sitting behind the wheel.

"... I'm riding here?" I asked as I turned back to him, unsure. "There's hardly enough space for three people... I'd have to squeeze in the middle."

"If you want to be so fucking picky, you can always ride inside the truck." Offered Negan while pointing to the storage section of the vehicle. "But I should warn you..."

Letting the beginning of his sentence hang still in the air, he got closer to me and stared down into my eyes.

"... All my men are in there, and they are more than a little fucking pissed that they came all this way just to leave empty-handed." He quietly spoke, trying to intimidate me. "... I don't think they'd be too happy to see your goddamn face right now."

Not quite daring to test whether his threat was empty or not, I gave up and climbed inside the front of the truck: moving over to the middle, on what was barely large enough to be considered a seat, I sat next to the driver, not uttering another word.

"Pleasure doing business with you." I heard Negan say to Rick before he joined me in the front and closed the door.

Adjusting himself comfortably by the window, I felt my body tense up the second he sat down: with what little space we had, and with how physically imposing he was, I found myself cramped tightly next to him, my body almost fully against his. I gulped as awkwardness began to invade me, leaving me silent.

The only thing that was able to pull me out of that state was the sight of Rick, opening the gates wide before he turned to us and stared at me from below. And as the engine roared and the van began to move, I watched Alexandria slowly disappear into the distance through the rearview mirror, wondering when I would truly see it again.

#negan #negan x reader #negan x you #negan fanfiction #negan fanfictions #negan one shot #negan one shots #negan imagine #negan imagines #the walking dead #the walking dean fanfiction #the walking dead fanfictions #the walking dead one shot #the walking dead one shots #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead imagines #twd #female reader #perplexedflower

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chelseypprimrose · 2 years ago

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Cheerleading Practice / Negan x Reader / Pre-Apocalypse

Warnings: daddy kink, oral (female receiving), soft!dom Negan, stepdaughter/stepdad relationship, use of one degrading name (slut), shower sex, masturbation(female), facial.

think that’s all of them, let me know if I missed any.

I wrote something similar to this many moons ago but I just can’t get enough of shower sex with Negan lol 🤍

“And five, six, seven, eight!” You called out to the rest of the girls, them following your routine down to a T. With the big game right around the corner, you’d scheduled more practice sessions with everyone, wanting to make sure you nailed this performance as the final was always the most important and had the biggest attendance numbers of all the games during the season. Your squad was made up of 10 girls including yourself, being elected the cheer captain at the start of the year. You were lucky to have such a lovely group of friends that you had made through cheer squad and they always gave you 100%.

You watched as the girls ran through the routine for about the 50th time, giving pointers on some of the moves that were a little harder to master. You gave a demonstration of a harder move that required all the girls to execute, the pyramid. Your friends, Kate and Leigh, had a hold of your legs as your feet were situated on their hands as you raised your arms, beaming smile on your face.

The music rang in your ears as you were thrown in the air being caught by your girls when you gracefully came back down. “Yes! Brilliant girls, you were all amazing! I think we are ready, next session will be on Thursday, please remember to practice at home in the mean time, get home safe!” You told everyone as they all gave each other a round of applause and grabbed their bags to head home. You grabbed your own belongings and headed towards the girls bathroom in the corner of the school hall.

Opening your locker up, you placed your gym bag inside, grabbing your white towel and toiletries bag to head towards the showers, turning the dial on as the water started to heat up. Taking off your cheer uniform, a small red tank top with the schools logo on the front and short matching skirt, you chucked them to the side, now fully naked.

Stepping into the shower, you took your hair out of ponytail you’d put it in before practice, letting your fingers run through to get out any kinks and tangles out.

With the water spraying on you, your mind wandered to your activities with Negan a few short weeks ago. You knew it was wrong, lusting over a man who not only was around 10 years your senior, but also with your mother. You let out a deep sigh, you couldn’t help but want him even more. You couldn’t deny how handsome he was, how charming he was, how he lit your body on fire just being around him. You felt your body getting hot, just replaying the way he’d made you cum all over his fingers, the feeling of nirvana when he kissed your neck, hitting that sweet spot at the base. You closed your eyes, leaning on the back of the wall in the shower, your hands running down your body until you got to your slick heat between your legs, you needed release, your fingers coming down onto your clit, moving in slow circles. Your other hand squeezing your erect nipples as you pictured Negan above you as he had been those weeks ago.

You let out a soft moan, your fingers quickening, wanting to avoid being caught in such an embarrassing predicament.

“Shit doll, is this a post training ritual?” You gasped as you opened your eyes at lightening speed, the very man that had caused you to be doing this, the one you’d been thinking about, right in front of you with a massive grin covering his features. “Negan?! What the fuck, this is the girls bathroom? What if someone saw you come in?” You shouted, trying to push past him to grab your towel that was on the top of the cubical that surrounded the shower.

“Calm down, I made sure that I was extra fucking careful. I had to come find you after watching that performance.” Your eyebrows raised in a confused look. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice me watching you? Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you in that tight little outfit, got me hard as a rock that shit did, doll face.” He pushed back your wet hair, exposing your breasts to him in full view. “Want to give me a little one on one performance right now?” He asked, his hands going from your hair to your breasts, playing with your nipples, your heat getting slicker than it already was, his eyes meeting yours.

You went against every better judgement in your head as you pulled him closer, your hands grabbing the bottom of his tight fit black T-shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid movement. His hands placed on your neck, capturing your mouth with his as you helped him step out of his gym shorts, hitting the ground with a wet slap.

“God, this is all I’ve been thinking about for days, I need you Negan.” You mumbled against his lips, you couldn’t get enough of him. “I know doll, you haven’t made it easy on me. All I wanted to do at breakfast was pull down your little shorts and take you right there on the table. Shit doll, you are like a drug I just can’t quit.” He replied, picking you up by your thighs and slamming you against the shower wall, his cock now full erect, leaking with pre cum.

He slid down to his knees, you on your tippy toes focusing on not slipping over on the wet floor, the water raining down on you both. Negan’s face between your legs, he gave small kisses to the inside of your thighs, the anticipation building up right in the middle of your core. You whimpered, trying to grind your pussy into his tongue, him resisting by gripping your thighs. “Now, now sweetheart, good things come to good girls who wait.” He let out a small chuckle, turning his focus back to your clit, every stroke with his tongue feeling like heaven.

You pulled him up from his position on the floor, your mouth connecting to his, tasting yourself on his lips. “Fuck, daddy! I need you inside me now. Please.” You moaned out, as he turned you around, the front of your body smashed against the cold wall of the shower. He lined himself up at your hole, his swollen tip teasing you by running across your opening. “You always look so fucking sexy like this doll, begging me to fuck you raw.” He whispered in your ear, finally filling you up with his hard cock. You whimpered at the feeling, pleasure already taking over you before he’d even started moving.

His hips started to rotate, thrusts starting off slowly, stretching you out like no one else had been able to, like maybe no one ever would be able to do. Negan picked up the place, your hands coming out to steady yourself against the wall, his hands grabbing in your hair and yanking it back, so you were looking up to the ceiling. You tried to move one of your hands down to your clit, Negan grabbing your arm and holding it in place behind your back. “No touching yourself doll, I want your pleasure to come only from me.” He growled out, his breathing quickening, little groans and moans leaving his lips as he slammed into you. His other hand leaving your hair to come down hard on your ass, the slapping sound filling the room along with the beautiful sound of your skin slapping together as your bodies came together.

You clenched around his cock inside you, your vision becoming blurred as you let the pleasure build up inside your core. “Daddy I’m so fucking close, please!” You could feel your heart beating faster, a small sheen of sweat coating your forehead, washed away by the water still running down both your bodies. “That’s it my dirty girl, cum around daddy’s cock for me.”

That was the only permission you needed as you let your body go, the waves of pleasure hitting you like a ton of bricks. You let out moans that would make a porn star blush, just feeling euphoric as your orgasm faded just as quickly as it had come. You gave a small push of Negan, his dick leaving you, making you feel empty. You turned to face him, willingly getting on your knees as he started to jerk his cock at a quick pace, the white, hot spurts of cum coating your face with a dozy smile on your face as you licked off the remanence off your lips, the salty taste satisfying you.

“Goddamn, that’s the hottest sight I’ve ever seen. You dirty little slut.”

Negan throwing his head back, closing his eyes, letting his body shake and his hands resting on the sides of your cheeks. Both your breathing came to a slower rate, your hands gripped on the outers of his thighs, standing up back to your feet, Negan looked back at you with a deep smile on his face.

“Shit doll, you! You are going to be a fucking problem for me.” He laughed, pecking you on the side of your face.

#imagine #imagines #negan #the walking dead #negan imagine #twd negan #imagine blog #negan twd #Negan smut #negan fanfiction #negan x you #the walking dead negan #negan the walking dead #negan x reader #negan's thirst squad #negan imagines #softdom!negan #stepdad!negan

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justanoasisimagines · 8 months ago

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My girl

Summary; Negan's in search for you. However, he find's a group of men staring and making comments about you instead. Pairing; Negan x Female Reader WordCount; 529 A/N; Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Negan marched through the sanctuary, head raised hair as crowds parted, some bowed their heads in respect. Negan smirked as he remained focused on his journey.

Negan pulled open the door to see you away from the others, sitting with a piece of canvas in front of you. He knew he'd find you here, Whenever Negan couldn't locate you, you were usually off painting something. Negan purposely sent people on runs to find your materials.

Negan stopped on his journey to observe you from afar. You were something special. Your body, your mind and your heart all complimented each other perfectly.

He loved the way you reacted to him. He'd never been with a woman who was tuned into him the way you were. You knew when to discourage and encourage. You spoke your mind. Negan appreciated every minuscule detail about you.

There was always something to learn about you. Negan turned his head at the sound of men talking loudly. Men liked to bust each other's balls. He did it constantly with Simon, Dwight and a few others. However, his face falters.

They all appeared to be gawping at you. Negan wasn't blind. He knew you were attractive. Beautiful wasn't a strong enough word. A Goddess to walk on the earth. He understood why they were staring at you.

Negan stared at you often. However, they were not allowed such rights. You were his. That meant no one could look at you. No one could touch you. No one could make any lewd remarks. Only he had the power to partake in any of those activities.

Negan turned in the direction as he sauntered towards the group of men. Now it was his turn to have some fun. Negan was about to teach them a lesson. One they would never forget.

"What's everyone starin' at?" Negan called out as he was met with sheepish grins. A response of 'nothing' as the men suddenly glanced down at their meet.

"Well, it sure as shit doesn't look like it. It looks like you are staring at my girl."

"We weren't" Negan smirked. It was one thing to stare at and make comments about his girl. It was another to lie to him to his face. Negan's hand clenched. Someone was going to pay.

"Now I know you're fuckin' lying. I watched you standing over here, makin' remarks. So how about you all grow a pair and start telling the truth."

No one answered, however, Negan needed to set an example so he threw a punch at the closest man. He landed on the ground with a thump.

"I'm gonna say this once. From now on, I want no one lookin' at her. No one making comments about her. In fact when she walks by I want you to bow your heads. Also as of right now, you're currently in debt to me, when I say jump, you do whatever I say no matter what. You're also gonna keep an eye out for art supplies so I can supply my girl with an art room."

The men solely agreed, and Negan turned around with a smug expression on his face. He still had it.

#the walking dead imagines #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead oneshot #Negan imagines #Negan imagine #Negane one shot #Negan oneshot #Drabble #Negan x Female Reader

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rottenimagines · 2 years ago

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THE FAVORITE GIRL

Summary: You, Negan's favorite ''wife'', have been captured after trying to escape. Now you have to face the consequences of your actions.

(Little disclaimer: English is not my native language, but I try my best, I promise x.)

It had been a week since Y/n had escaped; a too-long time for someone like her to survive alone in the woods. Although all her effort was useless in the end, since she was captured by a search party anyway.

She was Negan's favorite woman, after all. He wasn't going to let her go that easily. He knew very well that she would not get very far by herself. And he was right...

Two of his men drag her to Negan’s office, where he has been waiting for their reunion for a while.

‘‘Well, well, well... Look who's back!’’

He says, as he immediately sets down what he was doing and jumps up from his desk to greet her with a triumphant grin. When he's right in front of her, he motions for his men to leave, and so they do. Both are left alone.

He smirks, looking her up and down, and lets out a mocking whistle before speaking again.

‘‘Well, my dear, it's good to see you again, still in one piece. You look terrible, though. No offense.’’

He grabs her chin and tilts her head up. ‘‘Tell me, Y/n, where were you?’’

She glares at him, ‘‘away from you.’’

He grins and pulls her closer to whisper in her ear, ‘‘you know you can’t escape from me...’’

‘‘You’re an asshole...’’

Negan rubs his face against hers. She can feel his hot breath on her skin.

‘‘You should be grateful, y’know? I saved you from the life you were living,’’ he stares her down. ‘‘I’m the reason you had three meals a day. I’m the reason you slept in a warm bed. I’m the reason you’re breathing right now.’’

‘‘I don't want any of those things anymore. I don’t want anything from you.’’

He steps away a bit, surprised by her attitude. He remains serious for a few moments, analyzing the whole situation before his eyes.

‘‘You wanna be the dinner of one of those dead pricks, darling? Is that what you were looking for out there? ‘Cause, you know, all this little mischief of yours has been stupid as hell. You know that, right?’’

He stares at her as if she’s the stupidest person alive, and she stares at him back as if he's the worst.

‘‘I'd rather be one of those monsters' dinner than yours.’’

The playfulness disappears from his face; he looks at her with a dead stare this time.

‘‘You must be joking...’’ his cold, dead stare last another few seconds, then he laughs.

‘‘You’re just like every other woman in this world, aren’t you? You say one thing and do another. You agree to be with me, and then you just run away like a scared puppy.’’

He tries to get a more passionate reaction from her; he wants to provoke her to put an end to this new cold attitude of hers that is starting to make him mad.

‘‘Think what you like...’’ is her only response.

‘‘Oh, I know you’ll come back to me’’, he kisses her cheek, ‘‘...because you have no choice, right?’’

‘‘We’ll see.’’ She is willing to face the risks.

A look of disappointment slowly creeps across his face.

‘‘If you wish to be treated like the rest, fine. I’ll remove you from your pedestal and treat you like everyone else. No benefits. No special status. Nothing at all. Is that what you really want, Y/n?’’ He pauses a moment, while uncomfortable thoughts arise through his mind. ‘‘Just because of a little... misunderstanding?’’

She nods, impassively.

‘‘Very well, then’’. He nods and puts his hands on his hips staring at her sternly. ‘‘You are on bathrooms cleaning duty starting tomorrow.’’

He is willing to make her life as difficult as possible from now on as punishment for running away and, of course, to get her back to him.

‘‘...Fine.’’

‘‘And one more thing, Y/n. If you ever try to run away again...’’ he puts a finger under her chin, lifting her head to look at him. He leans in, close to being nose to nose, ‘‘you’re dead. Got it?’’

She nods.

‘‘Good girl.’’ He leans in and speaks in her ear: ‘‘You’ll come back to me, honey. You'll see, you'll see’’. His words come out in a husky whisper.

Negan kisses her cheek before letting her go.

#twd #the walking dead #twd imagines #twd x reader #negan smith #negan x reader #negan imagines #negan smith x reader #negan smith imagine #jeffrey dean morgan #negan one shot #negan smith one shot #twd one shot #twd fic #fanfic #negan fanfiction #negan fanfic #negan fic

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band--psycho · 2 years ago

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Negan x Fem!Reader- Mr Protective

So I'm trying to get some of my dialogue prompt stories written - this one is with dialogue prompt 145!

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Warnings-Gun, gun violence, Negan being negan

“We’ll if it isn’t my favourite wife”

Wife.

The words cut through me like a knife.

I wasn’t his wife. And he certainly wasn’t my husband. The only reason we’re ‘married’ was because my father bargained me in trade for his own safety.

My fathers now chained to the fence outside the front of the Sanctuary now, as a walker.

Though that’s not why I wanted to kill Negan.

No.

The community we were with were meant to remain safe; that was my only condition for marrying Negan, and he agreed, reluctantly so yes, but he agreed.

Yesterday, whilst Negan was away, I overheard a handful of Saviors discussing my old community, talking about how they’d killed the entire community on Negans order.

Which is why, instead of greeting Negan with words; I simply raised my gun and aimed it at his head.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” Negan asked, I could see the confusion flicker in his eyes before that signature cocky smile grew on his face.

It was as though this was all some type of game to him. .

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I snapped back; watching as the Saviors surrounding us pointed their guns at me.

Dying.

It should have scared me; anytime before this it would have.

But now as I stood here, there wasn’t a flicker of fear inside me.

“It looks to me like you’re pointing a damn gun at these good people,” laughter laced his face as he pointed Lucille at me before motioning to the crowd of people around us.

Was he threatening me?

Was this another thing that was meant to scare me? To intimidate me into going back to being a well behaved ‘wife’?

I shook my head, keeping my hand steady, “The only person I’m pointing a gun at is you.”

“Sir?” Simon questioned; his eyes locked on me.

“Don’t,” Negan answered back; turning to look at Simon before meeting my eyes again. The harshness in his voice caught me off guard.

I was one of his wives, he had five others, I wasn’t important, I was replaceable and yet here he was preventing his men from shooting me, knowing full well I could pull the trigger before anyone could have shot me.

The lightheartedness soon returned to Negans voice as he stepped closer to me,“It’s fine, Y/n here just has her big girl panties in a twist.”

His words made a chorus of low chuckle escape from the lips of people around us.

“Gimme the gun, sweetheart,”

It was an order. He was ordering me to give him the gun. And when I didn’t I swear I saw a hint of pride in his eyes as he pressed his forehead against the barrel of my gun.

“You really gonna shoot me, baby girl?” His voice was quieter now; but still loud enough still so that everyone could hear him; his eyes once again met mine as if he was trying to read my mind, trying to guess my next move.

“Yes,” I answered coldly with my finger on the trigger.

I could shoot him now and it would be over, all of it would be over.

So why hadn’t I shot him yet?

Why was he still standing in front of me?

“Y/n-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before a gun shot was fired.

For a brief second, I thought it was my gun, I thought I’d finally pulled the trigger. But Negans face remained intact.Though his eyes filled with some foreign emotion I’d never seen before but I knew that look from other people's eyes.

He was worried.

I couldn't understand why.

That was until I felt a burning sensation in my side; a sensation that only grew.

There was so much blood, it didn’t take long before it covered my entire hand.

I never believed it when people said that in the last moments of their life, they saw their life flash before their eyes. I still didn’t. Because when the pain from the shot became unbearable and I fell to my knees, I didn’t see my life flash before my eyes.

I saw Negan, taking the gun from my hand.

I thought he was going to shoot me….I think part of me hoped that he would.

But he didn’t.

He was aiming behind me.

He was angry; I could tell that much by the redness of his face and rage in his eyes. He was saying something, I couldn’t make out what, everything I was hearing sounded distant.

Everything except another gunshot which seemed to echo around me.

Darkness was slowly encapsulating my vision; I could no longer see the Saviors around me.

That was until Negan knelt down in front of me; and wrapped his arms around me, his mouth was moving but I had no idea what he was saying.

His face was the last face I saw before the darkness finally consumed my vision.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @impala1967dwinchester @thaliastregona @little-diable @book-dragon03 @munsinner @mrsnegan @jdmsgal @howlingmadlady @https-lorna @wheelerdixon @dilfsandtherapy @bestbitchsstuff @cherryheartssblog @darkdevasofdestruction @fangirlsfandomsss

#negan x reader #negan imagines #negan imagine #the walking dead x reader #negan twd #twd negan #the walking dead negan #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead imaigne

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negandarylsatisfaction · 2 years ago

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[SUMMARY: Everleigh is one of Negans wives who becomes pregnant. Negan becomes overly protective of her.]

“What the hell are you doing out here?!” He pulled you up his eyes looking all over you to make sure you were alright.

“I was just- I was trying to get something to eat. No one was there and-“ before you could finish his eyes changed.

“What do you mean no one was there?” Obvious anger in his voice.

Negan and Everleigh

It was time for your monthly check up when the doctor would give each of you a pregnancy test. The amount of sex Negan was having with all his wives, it was a surprise that none of you had come out pregnant yet. He always pulled out, yet each month you were always nervous to get a positive. The doctor gave each of you a stick with your name written on it, once you finished you all left the stick on the table beside him. Standing in a straight line waiting for the results, the doctor had a timer sitting beside him. Each minute feeling like it dragged, you had your hands behind your back when finally the alarm ticked. Quietly he looked over the tests before turning to face you and told everyone they could leave. Just as you were walking out, being the last one in the back you were stopped by the doctor with a slight tug.

“You can stay” you looked up at him confused as your heart began racing in your chest. Did this mean you were pregnant? The doctor smiled as he closed the door.

“Congratulations, Everleigh…you are indeed with child.” Your heart dropped as the words you always dreaded to hear were spoken before you.

“We will arrange for you to wait in Negans office until he arrives so that he can speak to you” not saying a word you followed as one of his men led you to the office. The door closed behind you but you couldn’t find it in you to sit and relax, pacing around the room you waited for Negan to show.

A little while later Negan returned to the sanctuary, Simon with a big grin on his face welcomed him.

“Boy do we have some news for you!” Negan looked over at him curiously as he placed his bat over his shoulder walking alongside him.

“One of your wives are pregnant”

“Shit” Negan stopped in his tracks facing Simon.

“Who?”

“Everleigh” he raised his brows pleased with what he was being told.

“Where is she?”

“Waiting for you in your office” Simon flashed him his teeth through a smile before pointing in the direction you were in.

Continuing to pace back and fourth you couldn’t believe what was happening. You froze at the sound of the door knob turning and quickly sat down waiting for him to enter. Once he did you swallowed anxiously as you heard his boots click loudly against the ground as he made his way to you. Sitting up straight you watched as he walked to the couch across from you, he stood silently staring right at you before he sat down.

“Hello, doll” excitement in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Hello” you spoke softly as he licked his bottom lip. Rubbing his chin with his gloved hand he didn’t take his eyes off you. He could tell you were nervous, of course you were. The thought of being pregnant made you sick, you had no idea what Negans reaction would be…what any of this would mean for you.

“So…looks like ol’ Negan had a slip up huh?”Negan leaned forward, carefully studying your expression, his words spoken slowly. He waited to see your reaction but you didn’t say a word.

“You’re allowed to speak, doll.” What was there to say? You looked to the side fiddling with your hands as he took a deep breath.

“How are you feeling?” He asked trying to break the ice.

“Fine” you finally responded. He raised his brows, crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

“So no sickness so far? Hm. Youre hungry?”

Silently you shook your head. He didn’t say anything for a moment, the silence killing you as he stared at you.

“I gotta say, out of all my wives….I was excited to hear it was you” he grinned. His reaction some how calming you just a little.

“Now..I’m gonna need you to follow a few extra rules ” he stood up as you looked at him.

“You’re no longer sleeping in the room with the other women, I won’t have that. You can sleep here…with me starting tonight-“

“Here?” You blurt out catching yourself by surprise.

“Is there a problem?” He asked raising a brow.

“No-“ you quickly responded shaking your head.

“Good. You’ll also be allowed access to extra food and doctor visits.

Negan and you never really spoke, every encounter was always based on sex. So to say you didn’t really know each other was an understatement, all you did know was that he was feared. Hell, when you first arrived at the sanctuary you never planned to sleep with him, but being convinced by the other women you gave in and once you did, you didn’t regret it. There was many perks that came with being Negans wife and you enjoyed each of them. You were never treated wrong by him but you would see how he’d react when others upset him and it was terrifying.

“What about the other women?” You asked softly.

“What about them?”

“Will they know? Will anyone else know?”

Negan looked as if he thought about it for a moment before crouching down to your level.

“I think we should keep it between us, doll. A few of my men will know so they can help you with anything you might need if I’m not around.” He assured you.

You took a deep breath and looked down, Negan could tell you seemed worried. Tilting his head looking at you he wondered how you felt.

“You scared?” His question making you look up.

“A little” you admitted in a whisper. For the first time you saw a glimpse of concern in his eyes as he placed his hand on yours.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be well taken care of.” He unexpectedly pulled you in and kissed your forehead before leaving the room.

A few weeks had gone by and of course symptoms began to show. Nausea and cravings all at once, you didn’t know what to expect. Some days were worse than others and this is when you saw a side of Negan you never knew he had. One day just outside the doors you could hear him roaring at the top of his lungs, disciplining one of his men. You had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was, Negan was furious. You sat down on the couch as nausea crept up on you, Negan slamming things just outside the doors as you leaned on the coffee table in front of you until you heard the door open behind you. Quickly you sat up but didn’t turn back, attempting to hide the discomfort you felt you took a deep breath and placed your hand on your stomach. Thankfully the nausea beginning to subside. Negan walked in instantly stopping in his tracks at the sight of you on the couch. For just a moment he forgot that you were in there, pregnant hearing every thing that had just taken place. He walked towards you pressing his lips together.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that” he spoke surprising you by the change in his tone of voice. A sudden calmness compared to the monster he had just sounded like. Hesitantly you looked up at him, he looked disheveled and out of breath, whatever it was that angered him surely got to him. He almost had a look of embarrassment that you had heard any of that. He stepped closer and bent down as you looked down at your hands. Placing his hand over yours you looked up at him.

“I promise you wont hear anything like that again” he assured you. He could see the fear in your eyes.

“Ok” you whispered as he stood up and silently took off his jacket. It was strange seeing how protective Negan became of you, yet you still were afraid to trust him and he knew that.

“Did you eat?” He looked back at you as he took off his glove.

“No-“

“What do you mean no? Didn’t someone come and leave you food?” He almost charged to the door ready to walk out and look for whoever was responsible for not doing their job.

“Negan wait-“ you stood up quickly as he stopped and looked back at you.

“I was given food, I…I just haven’t felt good today” he slowly turned back to you rubbing the side of his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You weren’t here” he slowly walked towards you, you stood silent wondering what he would do or say.

“Then you have one of my men send for me, there is always someone outside this door. You let him know and someone will get me and-“ he snapped his fingers “-here I am. Understood?”

You nodded, he looked down at your stomach and turned back to his bed.

One symptom Negan couldn’t help but notice was how much more you wanted to have sex. You were too shy to initiate it being that Negan always came to you when he wanted sex but he could easily tell by the look in your eyes. The way you squirmed in bed moving your hips around the second he was beside you, he loved it. His favorite part was not having to pull out and you honestly loved it too.

As time went on Negan did just as he said he would. Each week you felt a new symptom until one day you felt movement. You stopped what you were doing and looked down at your stomach waiting to feel it again. Negan was behind you at his desk writing things down when you felt another movement and gasped making him look up.

“What is it?” He stood up quickly and walked over to you as you continued looking at your stomach weirdly.

“I think I felt the baby move…it just feels funny” he stood closer, you could tell he was curious.

“May I?” He raised a brow, you nodded and watched as he carefully placed his hand on your stomach. The two of you waiting patiently right before another sudden movement.

“Holy-“ Negan whispered making you laugh just as he felt another movement again.

“Shit” he looked down at where his hand was then back up at you.

“That doesn’t hurt you?”

“No” you shook your head in laughter. This moment the two of you shared seem to break down another barrier you held against him.

Slowly you felt more comfortable around Negan as time went on.

Before you knew it, your belly was no longer fitting in your top. Negan began letting you use his shirts and so you did. One evening he was about to enter the room and stood at the door way silently watching you look at your belly in the mirror. You stood on one angle and the next watching how much your belly had grown.

“My my my…” Negans voice made you jump turning to him, quickly pulling your shirt down.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart….” He spoke with such charm yet a part of you couldnt help feeling intimidated.

“That was a beautiful sight” He smiled as he walked in the room before you noticed there was blood on his hands. He walked past you as you silently looked him up and down before he turned to you and noticed the way you were staring at him.

“What?”

You didn’t respond and instead kept looking at the blood on his hands all over his knuckles. He followed your eyes and cursed at himself in a whisper.

“Listen, sweetheart, it’s not what you’re thinking” but he could see you didn’t believe him.

He sighed and looked down before making his way back to you, his hands behind his back.

“What’s on your mind, doll?”

“Nothing..” you shook your head as a sarcastic grin appeared on him.

“Ah Ah, don’t lie to me. You know I don’t like that. Tell me the truth, it’s just you and me here” he sounded sincere yet you were still afraid to tell him what you were thinking. No one ever told Negan their opinion.

“Everleigh…” he was serious, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I don’t think I should” you whispered.

“Everleigh…you’re going to be the mother of my child for fuck sake, tell me”

“I…I don’t like how you do things” you took a deep breath as he quietly listened.

“The violence…your punishments…is that suppose to continue with a baby around? What if we have a son, and he grows up seeing his father do what you do…would you want that for him?” He stood silent, he didn’t seem angry, he crossed his arms and gave you a nod.

“You’re right” shocked by his response you didn’t say a word.

“It will change…I promise you.” Never had you seen Negan ever give anyone a chance to speak let alone agree.

Spending a few days alone after Negan went to get a few supplies with his men, you overheard a couple of his men talking next door. You could hear them laughing together before leaving the house completely. It was your first time without someone outside your door as Negan had assigned them to do. Since staying with Negan you never had to get anything yourself, all you had to do was ask whoever was outside and quickly you received whatever you wanted. For some reason, no other man took their place today. Rubbing your stomach you could feel the hunger you had and wasn’t patient enough for another man to come to your door. Deciding to go out yourself and get food you didn’t think twice of it, you knew exactly where to go and would be right back.

It was strange walking out on your own, there was many people around, you could hear chatter from afar. You could feel eyes on you as you walked, some shocked to see your growing belly as you walked silently. You looked up and noticed the gates opening with trucks coming in, you figured Negan had returned. Blocking the sun with your hand trying to see the entrance clearer, you noticed the men were yelling as they entered. Something seemed wrong and before you knew it gun shots went off. People around you panicked as you turned to run back to the room accidentally getting knocked down on your hands.

Negan hiding behind his truck shot as many people as he could, thankfully there weren’t too many. Having been followed back by another group Negan was ready and well equipped with his crew to stop all of them. All of the men were dead as Negan stood on his side with the Saviors, silently staring straight ahead to make sure no other man appeared. Giving a signal to the men to close the gates he turned walking back when he noticed you on the floor hiding behind a table.

“Everleigh..” he whispered rushing towards you, you looked up with fear in your eyes.

“What the hell are you doing out here?!” He pulled you up his eyes looking all over you to make sure you were alright.

“I was just- I was trying to get something to eat. No one was there and-“ before you could finish his eyes changed.

“What do you mean no one was there?” Obvious anger in his tone.

“I..I don’t know where the guys went. They had just left…I was too hungry to wait” you explained as he looked behind him as the men sealed the entrance off. He didn’t say a word as he took you by your hand and bought you back to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him he charged towards the bed.

“Negan?”

He didn’t speak as he pulled a box out from under the bed, you silently moved closer as you noticed what he was taking out of the box. A steel iron that looked as if it had already gone through hell. You knew what he used that iron for, you had heard the stories about it.

“Negan what are you gonna do?”

He didn’t respond only making you anxious.

“Negan?” He grabbed the iron and headed for the door before you quickly blocked it.

“Move out of my way” he spoke in a deep whisper.

“No” you responded shocked with yourself.

“Everleigh god dammit!” He slammed his fist on the wall beside him making you jump.

“Put that thing away” you spoke softly still slightly hesitant to say what you truly felt.

“Oh honey, you think you’re gonna stop me?” He stepped closer to you staring straight down at you.

“I said…put it away” you spoke a little louder.

“Do you understand what could’ve happened right now, sweetheart?” He furrowed his brows, the anger in his eyes still very present.

“You could’ve been killed all because the fuckers who were suppose to be outside of your room at all times to get you whatever you needed weren’t there. There’s a reason I had them there, I never know what shit can happen here and I don’t want you in the middle, kind of like you just were right now” he raised his brows.

“So you’re gonna burn their faces off?”

“Would you rather me use my precious Lucille? Get out of my way.”

“No”

“Everleigh!” He roared loudly.

“I said put it away!” You suddenly screamed taking him by surprise. He was so surprised he stood silent.

“Put it away” you repeated in a calm but stern manner.

“You promised me this would change…how is this changing?”

“You could’ve been hurt-“

“But I wasn’t, Negan. Please…if you care about this baby at all you would stop” you could tell what you said got to him. He pressed his lips together and silently walked back putting the iron back in the box.

“Happy?”

“Thank you” you walked up to him unexpectedly planting a kiss on his cheek. He looked down at you amused placing his arm around your waist.

“This baby is giving you some balls” you both laughed before he leaned in and kissed you softly. He caressed your face gently, he was happy that you were speaking up more, Negan wanted you to be as comfortable as you could be and that included speaking your mind.

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan fanfiction #negan x ofc #negan x oc #negan smith #negan imagines #twd fanfiction

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perkqularkreashions · 2 years ago

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Dogs Days Are Not Over

Requested | YES. Request | OPEN.

~M~ TWD Imagine: YN finds herself in an impossible situation when she is met with her former lover.

Word Count: 4,667

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Miscarriage, Mentions of Death.

Pairings: Negan X Reader, Dwight X Reader, Rick X Reader [Previous]

Author's note, this is the fourth request I've seen where the reader is pregnant lol; I have two more with Spencer Reid.

Happy Readings :)

NEGAN stirred gently, his back facing me as he groaned. The voices erupted in the halls, signaling that it was morning, another day of being completely absorbed by the idiocy Negan decided to keep in his company. Moments passed before he rose from the bed, dragging his limp body through the room, finding anything to toss on. He spoke softly to me last night, for the first time in a long time. His hand rubbed against me while his lips kissed my neck, gently lulling me to sleep, but I knew in the morning he would be back to sulking and carrying this attitude. We had been arguing for the last few days, and small things turned into big things that snowballed into us not talking for some days. “I want to go get Michael to check out,” he finally pronounces, his back still facing me as he pulls on some clothes.

“Negan,” I whispered, sitting in our bed, shifting slightly as he dismissed me. The door slammed behind him, and I was left alone. This time, it wasn’t a tiny fight over Dwight flirting with me or me getting jealous of his other wives; I overheard one of his dick-riding minions talking about the current raid that they partook in. They recounted the names in glee, the names of the victims that Negan bludgeoned, Abraham and Glenn. I froze, and my face grew warm as I listened closer to the words tumbling out of their mouths—the gargling of his words and the look of desperation on the woman’s face. I moved to the man, but I grabbed my gun and slammed it against his temple before I could process anything that had happened. Over and over again, I drew the butt of my gun to his face. My eyes burned with tears and blood. My feet slid against the ground as I felt arms wrap around me. It was one hit, a solid punch against my jaw, and another to my temple; I heard a loud crack.

I fell limp to the floor, a cold hand pressing against my face. His thumb rubbed gently against my skin. I could smell the stale cigarettes and beer on him. His voice was barely above a whisper. I could scarcely see his face, but I knew it was Dwight. I flinched away from him, slowly pushing him away. “Negan will kill you if he sees you,” was all I could mutter before, succumbing to darkness.

Now, roughly two days later, I have a bruised and darkened eye. I could barely see from my left eye; bright lights irritated me, and I suffered frequent migraines – Negan would call it a suitable punishment for a disrespectful woman. I wore a patch that Dwight had found on one of his excursions. Negan didn’t take too kindly to it, and me jumping to his defense wasn’t helping the situation either. Negan commanded one of the wives to nurse me back to health; with disdain and twisted face, she did so. She changed my bandages from my worsening eye and cleaned the wounds. This morning was no different; she came with a slight frown upon seeing me. She sighed, setting down her materials. “When are you going to tell him?” she finally spoke as she damped a discolored clothe to my eye.

After moments of silence, I finally responded, “What.” She laughed before snatching her hand away from my face.

“You’re pregnant, getting into stupid fights with David? He punched you in the stomach, YN, and the only reason you blacked out like that was because that was your old crew.” I rolled my eyes, shaking my head softly.

“There’s no need; he’s not talking to me. I feel fine.” I confided in Rachel often, and on one of my drunken nights, I told her that Michael was the group leader's son to whom I used to belong. It was easier to think he was dead than to believe that Rick was dead. I mourned for Rick, Carl, Glen, Maggie, Abraham, Tara, Sasha, Daryl, and Michonne. I told her about my sisters and Beth’s death, and I told her about first meeting Rick and his family. She listened, soaked in every word as I cried in her lap.

“Your eye isn’t healing; you might want to get checked out when you go to Alexandria,” she sighs as she leaves me alone.

It didn’t take me long to get ready: light green cargo shorts, a stained tan t-shirt, and some army boots I stole from a decaying corpse. My head shifted to the door as I heard his babbles break the silence. His head rested on Negan’s chest as he moved closer to the room, avoiding eye contact with me. I ran my hand down his curly hair, taking him in for a moment. “How’s he feeling?”

“Not getting any better from last night, still a high fever, and he sounds hoarse,” He whispers; I could feel his eyes on me. Heavy and daunting. Finally, I look up, praying he doesn’t shift his gaze away. “I worry about you, YN”

Slowly, I let my hand travel to his face, cuffing it gently. My thumb brushed against his facial hair, prickling my skin uncomfortably, then moving to his lips. “I know… I’m sorry” was all I could manage.

“He could’ve killed you; I would have to kill him. I would do anything for you — for Michael.” I nodded; I pressed my lips against his, tasting alcohol and some sort of meat. His other hand gently grabbed at my waist, yanking me closer. “Come on,” he whispered against my lips. As we left the room, we were greeted by his dick-riding minions, ready to raid another town. My eyes scanned David, his face distorted from the butt of my gun. He smirked momentarily, before trotting off with the rest of the group. My eyes flickered to Dwight, his movements slow and calculated. He dodged through the crowd and soon walked shoulder-to-shoulder with me. Nothing was, but nothing needed to be said. His fingers brushed against mine, and my eyes shifted to Negan and then to him.

“How are you feeling?” I heard him grunt, his arms folded against his chest as he moved slightly before me.

“Better; Rachel says I need to get checked out when I go to the town,” I answered shortly, looking around and disinterested in the conversation.

“I miss you”

“Don’t,” I interrupted, speeding past him as I slammed my shoulder against his. I gasped as I felt his arm latch onto mine. I didn’t turn around, but I knew he was upset and needed me to show him I was alright. He let me go, and I continued to move with the group as we boarded our rides.

It didn’t take us long to reach Alexandria, the scene unfolding in front of me as every memory began to flood back. I began to feel queasy and full of anxiety as I stepped out of the car with Michael in hand. I hissed gently as sharp pain ran through my eye, I brushed it off as I lingered behind most of the group.

“Little pig…Little pig, let me in,” he foolishly commands, Lucille tossed over his shoulder. I squinted at the man; he was pale and had sustained some injuries. He was hunched forward slightly, his shoulders moving at an alarming rate. I caught his eyes, his hair covering most of his case; I took another step in his direction, my chest burning as I watched him intently. Realization struck on his face, and his eyes widened. “Daryl?” I whispered. My head snapped back to the gate as it began to open, and slowly, the figure emerged. He steps in, slowly thrusting Lucille into the man’s hand.

His face changed, and he gained some weight. His hair wasn’t as curly the last time I saw him more clean cut. His face drained of color and life that used to decorate him – he had hope. I couldn’t move or process the man I was seeing before me. He froze, his eyes moving from Michael to me. My throat tightened as I tried to utter something to him; I dreamt of this day, standing in front of Rick, letting him meet his son, explaining the hell that I went through, seeking comfort in his arms. “Rick?” I hiccuped out, shaking my head. I took a step closer to him, tightening my grip on Michael.

“YN?” he whispered, his voice kissing against my eyes. His eyes traveled back to Michael, “Is this–” hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers running against his arm before laying his hand against his back.

“Hold the fuck up,” I heard Negan shout, his laughter filtering into the arm as he stepped closer. His face was full of devious mischievous, but his eyes were full of sorrow and confusion. They watered slightly as he stepped closer to me. “Rick? Ole Rick, here is the father of Michael?”

“I was traveling with Daryl doing some runs in this town when we got separated. A herd of walkers took us by surprise, and I stumbled in the woods somewhere; I was holding up in some shanty town centers, bars, and a mall to give birth to Michael.” I stared at Negan for a moment as realization crossed his eyes. “Where’s Maggie?” I whispered. Rick looked for a moment, his eyes shifting down as he swallowed.

“She didn’t make the trip back here after—” I sucked deeply. I needed to hold myself together, and I nodded to his statement. I pressed my lips together. “Let me see her.”

With that, we moved to her grave sight, next to Glenn. I stared at the dirt graves, my foot mindlessly kicking at the dirt as it tumbled down the pile. My eyes stung with tears as I tugged on my bottom lip. “She was sister,” I spoke to Negan, my eyes fixating on the makeshift wooden cross. “She was always the rock between Beth and I. Beth was a crybaby, and Maggie was always Miss Straight and Narrow while I wanted to drink and stay out late with my hick boyfriend,” I laughed. It was long and rested in the stillness of the air. “When I saw Rick and Shane running down that field with Otis with Carl in his arms, I knew then that we stuck with the crew that came riding in their beat-up van and motorcycle. I nursed Carl back to health and taught him how to be a farmer."

My eyes flashed to Rick; a sunken look rested on his face as he gave me a soft smile. “She was my everything, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you—” I was interrupted by Michael’s whooping cough, his hand gripping against my chest. Negan rushed to my side, his eyes scanning Michael’s face, brushing his hair out of his face. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes pleading to hold him. Absentmindedly, I nodded. He soon began checking his reddening face, the back of his hand pressing against his forehead as he shifted slightly. My eyes flickered to Rick, who tensed; a look of concentration and bewilderment ran across his features. I flinched at the abrupt ring pierced through the air; we froze for a moment; it was a gunshot. I followed behind Rick, my hand removing the gun from my side, upon entering a building far from the gravesite. My gun was aimed at a teenage boy, a bandage covering his eye as he held it at David, who had multiple medical supplies in his arms while tossing them in a crate. My face furrowed in disgust as my eyes shifted to him.

“Put some back, or the next one goes in you,” he commands; I observed, smirking slightly at this kid's courage.

“Kid…what do think is gonna happen next?” the boy looked at Negan, his eyes flickering to the child in his hand.

“He’s taking all of our medicine! You said Half,” he hissed; he squinted in hatred, his lips parted as a low snarl escaped. His finger danced against the trigger.

“Carl… Carl put the gun down.” I straightened my posture, my eyes taking him in. He was taller; he didn’t have a sweet innocence about him. When I first found out I was pregnant, he stayed by my side — he was overprotective, to say the least. I remember sharing a cell in the prison for a month, his body leaning against the base of the bed, his head resting against the rusted metal pole. His mouth parted, and his chest slowly moved with each huff that pushed past his lips. I watched him for a moment, brushing my hands through his hair. He’d stir in his sleep, uncomfortably adjusting himself, letting his hands run over his neck. He hated sleeping alone since his mother had passed, and I hated being alone since I suffered from the miscarriage.

Lowering my gun, I watched him. “You should go before you find out how dangerous we are.” I smiled softly at his words.

“David, put the medicine back,” I whispered, holstering my gun. Carl turned to me, his face still tight with anger. I grabbed his arm, and he flinched, his hand locking on the gun.

“You don’t tell me what to do.” David spits, the crate still locked in his arms. A smirk rode on his face as he cowarded behind Negan. I looked at Carl, pressing a gentle smile on my face. Confusion ran across his eyes; he shifted to face me slightly.

“You know, cowboy, you grew some damn balls the last time I saw you.” I laughed, tipping his hat back. His face softened, and a smile crept along his face. “Come on, Carl, I promise you, no one will touch the medicine. Half is what he said, and half is what he means,” I whispered, unraveling the gun from his hand.

I turned to David, taking a long step forward; his eyes widened as he realized that Negan would let me do it, taking the safety of the gun and putting it to his temple. “Put the shit down” his eyes flickered to Negan, who didn’t seem pleased with my sudden demonstration of leadership. “You know I’m good for it.” David curses for a moment, dropping the crate on the ground, his eyes fixed on me as he slowly exited the room. The door slammed behind him as we all listened to his retreating footsteps.

“YN,” Carl finally lets out, and I turn to him with a wide smile. “YNN,” he finally whispers; I gasped softly as he slammed his body against me. His arms wrapped around me. I chuckled.

“You’re still a troublemaker, I see” I whispered.

“I can say the same about you!” he chuckles through his slight frenzy of emotions.

“I hate to interrupt a touching moment, but this reminds me that, you all have way too many guns,” Negan states. Carl removes himself from me, his eyes shifting to Negan.

“First, Michael is sick, I know it’s probably too much to ask-”

“No,” Rick interrupted me. “Let’s get him looked at,” he hummed; I nodded, whispering a thank you. A woman with glasses came in, shakingly looking at Negan and me.

“Hi! I’m YN. That is Michael.” he shyly lifted his head off at the sound of his name, and I motioned her to come closer. She was hesitant for a moment, her eyes scanning the room. She was observing Negan; her hand trembled as she moved to adjust her glasses. “He’s been a little sick, with a bad cough. Negan over here thinks it is serious; he just gets sick easily. He hasn’t had any motivation to do anything but sleep and sometimes eat.” She nods, her hand gently brushing against his back as she tries to take him from Negan. He stiffens, locking his grip on Michael. Resting my hand against his shoulder, I squeeze. Negan’s eyes flickered over to mine, and he sighed content before letting the woman take Michael.

“What about you, ma’am?” she whispered, setting Michael on a bed. She lay him on his back, her hand moving to his stomach, the left side of his chest, and the right. She turned to me, waiting for an answer. “You should let me check you before you go; the bruising around your eye doesn’t look too good,” she nods for a moment.

Simply, I responded, “I’m fine.”

“How old is he?” Carl questions

“9 months, he’s so busy and wants to be around everything and see everything.” I laughed, my hands nervously playing with the hem of my shirt; I watched her examine him; the woman made faces at Michael as she poked and prodded him. He whined softly before settling into a soft laugh as she made a goofy face again.

Carl grabbed my hand, “Hey! It’s going to be okay. If he’s anything like us, Grimes, he’s a survivor,” he hummed; I nodded – tightening my grip on his hand. The memories came flooding in Carl’s kindness towards me, Rick’s loyalty and love, Daryl’s abrasiveness and wit, Abraham’s might and crudeness, and Rosita’s sass and smile. I sucked in a sob as I watched continued to watch Michael. I missed the feeling of Glenn wrapping his arms around in a tight hug after a sleepless night, or Maggie always bringing me a cup of tea in the mornings and before bed. I wanted to kill Negan for taking them away, I wanted to bring him to his knees and make him beg forgiveness as I rammed his stupid ass bat against his head. I wanted him to watch the woman he loved the most murder him. His last memory on this earth, is me wielding Lucille against his skull. But I was weak; I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

“Well! He’s alright, just a little hay fever; it’s growing increasingly hot outside the pollen and allergens are making him sick. We have some children’s Advil that might help his temperature; some tea and honey would be great. Might wanna keep him in fresh clothes.” I sighed in relief; I nodded rapidly, as she lifted him. “We had some allergy medicine, non-drowsy, of course. I’ll make something to drink for him and get him a change of clothes, and he will be as good as new. But I wanna have a check-up in a week or so. Just to make sure," I moved to grab him, his smile overtaking his face, his hands slamming against my face with excitement as he squeals with glee.

My eyes shifted to Negan; he stood against the back door. His eyes intensely staring at mine, he nodded briefly before looking away. “Come on, Rick, let’s go get my guns!” he promptly shouts, kicking himself off the door.

I stared at Carl, we were left alone, and I had so much to say, but nothing came out. I wanted to beg for his forgiveness – I knew it wouldn’t amount to much. He smiled softly, nodding slowly as if he could read my thoughts. Somehow, he always could; he always felt like my first son, the way he clung to me after his mother passed. He would find his way into my room, whispering that he had a nightmare about his mother and Judith. “Don’t,” Carl whispered, tears streaming down his cheek as he nodded. “You don’t have to say it. I know.”

It was silence between us. “I was going into labor; I found my way into a mall. Negan and some of the guys, helped me give birth to him. They took me back to the Sanctuary, and I became Negan’s wife. I wanted to come back; I did — I just… I don’t know.” I whispered.

“It’s okay, YNN. Dad always knew you were out there. He said he was too hard to get rid of.” he laughed softly.

“Show me around, cowboy.” We walked through the streets, talking about different things, his new life, and the small hobbies he had picked up before things went to hell: the relationships and the heartbreaks.

I stopped him, grabbing his arm. “These people are dicks; they do this shit for dominance to make you feel weak. You aren’t weak. They want to leave with this feeling of hopelessness. He will come back, and when he does, don’t show fear. He feeds off of it. There’s a shanty ranch home, 15 miles north of here, Hutington. Have your father meet me there in 3 days.” He nods quickly; I unholstered my gun, passing it to him. “Please, be safe cowboy.”

“I will,” he hums, pulling me into a tight hug. I heard a long, high-pitched whistle, my eyes shifting to Dwight as he motioned for me to follow him. Carl looks at me before, whispering goodbye. Slowly, I made my way to Dwight, his eyes seething with jealousy, a look he often carried with him. Daryl was standing in a position directly behind him as he watched me. I passed a sympathetic smile to him.

“What were you doing with him?” he questioned. I scoffed momentarily, looking around before returning my gaze to him.

“He’s my son,” I answered without another thought. Carl always felt like my son; when he first arrived on the farm, I helped nurse him back to health—telling him fables that my grandfather used to say to me. I brought him late-night snacks despite my father telling me to not get so attached to them. I remember the look Rick gave me when I pleaded his case for them to stay– I remember the slight touch that sent shivers down my spine and our first kiss after he killed Shane. “Your leader killed my friends and took their guns, beds, and everything else they wanted. He’s a tyrant, and you know this.”

“I’m not one shacking up with him.” he hisses, stepping in my face, his breath fanned against my nose as he towered over me. “You’re fucking him, for fucksakes, you’re pregnant with his child. Don’t think I notice, how you don’t drink or stand around me when I smoke. The oversized shirts you wear? I notice everything about you.” I could find his hand and tried to find a way in mine. “Or Is it mine?”

I honestly didn’t know; it was one drunken night. Negan and I had gotten into a nasty fight over Michael. I pushed him, and he choked me; I remember him tossing me to the ground and storming out of the room. Dwight had visited me and asked me if I wanted to go on a run. It just happened. I don't regret it.

I sighed, looking away and noticing everyone gathering at the gate. Their chatter and humming, the teasing and provocation. Finally turning to him, he shifts, his head focused on me, “I love them, and I love him. No matter where I go, I will always be a part of this family,” I whispered to him before moving to Negan. I stood at Negan's side, staring at Rick for a moment. He looked at me, and nodded gently, mouthing a slight OK.

“Oh-ho,” Negan calls out, “What the fuck is that?” he grabs me by the waist, yanking me closer to him. “Are you trying to get at my wife?” He laughs momentarily and harshly grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were delicate, full of curiosity and jealousy. He loosened his hold on my face, his thumb gently rubbing against my bruised cheek. Stunned, I stumbled back as he slammed his lips against mine. I didn’t kiss back; I stood their wide eyes and throbbing upper lip. He continued to kiss me, and soon, we fell into a rhythm, something that came so naturally to us. He pulled back and let out a slight howl. “You see that! She’s mine; I don’t know what you think… is going to happen, but she’s my wife.”

I looked away from him, my head throbbing, my eyes burning for a moment as he continued with his speech. I closed my eyes briefly, sucking a deep breath before letting it fall against the air. I grew increasingly dizzy as the moments passed, and the longer I stood there, the more irritated I became. I drifted off in the background as Rick and Negan discussed formalities. I brushed past the Saviours as I moved to the truck.

Night fell as quickly as I was back in my room, breastfeeding Michael, shutting my eyes as I rocked against the rocking chair. The soft sound of the chatter outside of the window calmed me slightly. The door slammed shut; I could hear his footsteps thudding against the ground. His boots slid off and tumbled against the floor. “I love you; I will never let Rick, Dwight, or any man have you. You mean everything to me; you’re mine, and I intend on keeping it that way.” I pried open my eyes, watching him through blurred vision. He stood there, leaning against the wall.

I got up, placing Michael in a wooden crib covered with soft, thin blankets to prevent him from getting splinters as he would chew on the surroundings if he were up early enough. I tasked Dwight with finding me a different crib for him; after each run, whatever team partakes in, I always receive a report back with an update on any cribs. I brushed his hair out of his face; I tensed as I felt Negan’s body press against mine. I could feel the warmth radiating over me and his head nuzzled in my neck. His lips gently pecked at my skin, slowly as he moaned softly. His hands danced against my waist momentarily, pulling me back into the bedroom. I spun around to face him, noticing a look on his face. I could smell it on him. I chuckled for a moment, tossing my hand in his face. I moved our shared bed.

Before I could make it to bed, his hand gripped my upper arm. I stumbled back into him. “Don’t walk away from me,” his voice was stern. “Stop walking away for me.” his voice now pleading. His grip loosened as his thumb gently caressed my skin. His hand swiftly moved to my neck –gasping, my hand immediately covered his. He forced my head to the left, our noses meeting slowly he brushed his against mine. “Stop walking away from me,” he repeats, his handcuffing my cheek.

Our lips collided, my hands moving to his neck as I yanked him closer, letting our bodies tumble onto the bed. I crawled back, trying to keep our lips connected. He pulls back; I fall against the bed and watch him yank my pants down. He doesn’t speak; he usually never does. His fingers, moved on my thighs as he dragged me closer to him. I gasped softly, at the feel of his lips against my clit, his warm tongue tracing patterns as I grabbed his head. “Oh my-” I moaned softly, bucking my hips against my face.

He kissed the inside of my thighs, moving to my stomach before, kissing my clit again, his finger slid inside me. Slowly he pumped, his knuckles pounding against my lips as he continued eating me out. Holding my breath, I let out disgruntled moans. My hands gripped the sides of his head before moving to my face, and my knuckles moved to my mouth as I bit down. I called out his name softly, he pushed my hand away shoving his finger into my mouth. He shoved it deeper into my mouth as he watched me choke on his finger, my eyes watered as my tongue moved to push his fingers out of my mouth, and yanking them out, I cursed at him. Shutting my legs slowly.

He moved back on top of me, his body weight resting on his hand. “Put it in,” he commanded; I sat there for a moment. My hand hesitantly moving to his dick, I grabbed at it, not bothering to jerk him off. I lined him up at my entrance; I tugged on my bottom, expecting him to shove it in as he usually does. His tip slowly slides in; his face contorts for a moment.

He moves slowly; I gasp softly, taking sparse and sporadic breaths as he fills me. Finally, he puts all his weight on his forearm, his face closer to mine as he grabs my leg, tossing it around his waist. “I love you” he whispers, into my ear. His thrusts were slow and passionate; he moaned gently in my ear as he nibbled at my ears. “Do you love me?”, I opened my mouth but was interrupted by him thrusting into me. I struggled to push out a yes, my hands clawing at his back as I tightened my legs around his waist.

“Say it”

“I love you, D,” I paused, my heart thudding against my chest. I began to notice how heavier he was, how his stomach pressed against mine, and how he just stopped breathing. Fuck. He stopped thrusting; I could feel the anger seething from his skin. I didn’t know what to say. Should I just continue moaning? Should I be aloof?

He lifts himself, and I swiftly close my eyes, not wanting to meet his gaze. “I-I wasn’t thinking about him.” was all I mustered out.

“No?” he chuckles, the cool air brushing against my body. He was leaving. “You’re fucking moaning his name when I’m fucking you,” he shouts; I look away.

“You’re going to wake Michael,” I whispered, his footsteps thudding against the room. His hand gripped my arm as he pulled me up. I opened my eyes, watching him.

“Do you love him?” His voice was eerily calm.��

“No,” I lied; of course, I did. I loved how he made me feel, how wanted he made me feel, and how precious I was to him. How he was so gentle with me, no matter what I did. But I would never love him the way I love Negan…No matter what this sadistic maniac does, I would never love anyone as I loved him.

He chuckles, tossing me back on the bed. “Fuck you YN.”

#imagines #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead imagines #negan imagine #negan smith imagine #negan imagines #negan smith x reader #negan smith imganes #the walking dead dwight #dwight x reader #the walking dead #imagine #requests are open #requested

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carlsdarling · 2 years ago

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Maybe Baby headcanons Part II

How do different TWD characters react when they find out that Y/N is expecting a baby from them?

WARNINGS: none

Rick

He's speechless at first when you tell him. Then delighted and horrified at the same time.

"This can't be true..."

He gets kind of depressed because your pregnancy triggers the memory of Lori's death.

Rick becomes very protective, bossy, and controlling. (Did I mention he has a control kink?).

He insists that you are never alone. He is either with you himself, or one of his closest confidants.

He never stops worrying.

He is excited like a little boy when he tells Carl that he is getting another brother or sister.

He keeps calling Siddiq to come and check you out, even though there's no reason for it.

When the birth starts, Rick nervously paces up and down the room and gets in the way, so they have to send him away.

Daryl

He stares at you baffled and just can't find the right words.

"I'm not ready for this"

It takes Daryl a few days to come to terms with the news and get used to the idea of becoming a dad. Temporarily he even distances himself from you and acts dismissive and unfriendly.

He eventually apologizes for this. He has some difficulties getting involved with a child because his own childhood was traumatic.

He is unsure how to handle the situation, but he hides this with his often rude behavior.

He scavenges masses of stuff for you and the baby - because he doesn't know anything about it, much of it is ultimately useless.

He is proud that he will soon be a father, but can't admit it.

When you go into labor, he feels awkward because there is nothing he can do to help you.

Negan

When you tell him, he laughs out loud and looks at you in disbelief.

"Are you bullshitting me?"

Then he flatly forbids you to leave the house, fearing someone might kidnap you and the unborn or "sell" you to Rick.

Very dominant, controls that you eat enough and what you eat.

Makes plans on how he will raise his son (he is convinced it will be a boy) to be his successor and future leader.

Jokingly teases you about gradually getting fat and slow.

Is secretly happy to have a child soon, too, since Rick already has two kids and Negan silently envies him for Carl, even if he would never admit it.

Threatens the Sanctuary doctor to throw him into the fire alive if the delivery doesn't go smoothly.

Glenn

He's happy as a little kid, grinning and bouncing around.

"This is great!"

He blanks out any difficulties and tries to see everything in a positive light. He wants to avoid you developing fears.

First of all, he goes on a trip to get you pregnancy vitamins.

He's already planning what all he's going to teach his son or daughter. You have to slow him down.

He gets all excited when the birth starts, but stays sitting next to your bed and does exactly what Siddiq tells him to do.

#the walking dead #twd #negan #rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #negan fanfiction #glenn rhee #glenn rhee fanfiction #glenn fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagines #rick grimes imagines #glenn rhee imagines #negan imagines #daryl fanfiction

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 months ago

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You leaned away as his gloved hand came up to perhaps stroke or clasp your cheek and he stopped mid-motion and clicked his tongue at you, his teeth denting into his bottom lip for a moment. But he recovered quickly and that wolfish smile was soon back on his face.

"You really expect me to fall for your sweet talking, Negan?" you said in a low voice, clearly unamused by his antics. "I have a lot of practice being manipulated and lied to. Pretty much my entire life. This isn't my first fucking rodeo with a narcissistic psychopath. I'm not someone who's going to fall for your bullshit."

His eyebrows lifted and he chuckled lightly. "Bullshit, doll? But I am tellin' the truth here. I do like you. I don't have to lie about that."

"I'm sure you'll get over it when I start leaving the bodies of your men on the Sanctuary's doorstep," you growled back. You turned to walk away but you heard him laughing again behind you.

"Hey, doll! If you're tryin' to turn me off, you should stop sayin' shit like that because DAMN. That is hitting me in all the right places!" he yelled after you.

Prompt: "I have a lot of practice being manipulated and lied to."

#negan smith #negan imagines #negan drabbles #wicked wednesday #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan x y/n #negan fics #the walking dead #negan twd

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year ago

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𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - when the world was good, negan had always visited the strawberry shack after work and when the world ended, he didn't expect to find the place still up and running.

warning - smut, gloryhole, creampie, swearing, daddy kink, breeding kink.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Negan stared shocked at the building still standing as though it had never been touched by the apocalypse. The sign still flashing ‘The Strawberry Shack’, no sign of the dead around. He was brought back to when the world was fine when the dead didn’t walk. He remembered finding this place and heading inside, finding the perfect woman each time. That woman being you, you were the one he’d cheat on his wife with. You’d take away all his thoughts and feelings. He wondered if there was anyone inside, so with large strides, Negan heads toward the building and enters. Stopping short as he sees the same woman sitting at the front desk.

“Hiya hun, nice to see ya again. What would you like?” She taps her perfectly manicured nails against the counter, staring at him as she waits for his response.

“Sex, sugar. But I got no cash.” Negan watches, waiting to wake up and for this to be a dream.

The woman waves her hand, “Don’t worry, hun. It’s free of charge for our favourite customer.” She smirks, “You know where to go.” He nods, walking toward the door and he surveys the room. It seems that only one person is working, and he’d recognise that arse anywhere.

“I see you’re still working, sugar. Even with the hell going on outside.” He walks closer, eyes focused on how you clench around nothing at his voice. “How I’ve missed you. Shit.” He groans, feeling his cock harden and throb. Negan grabs the flesh of your arse, giving it a good squeeze before he reaches down and plays with your clit. “Fuck, sugar. You’re already so wet for me.” He leans Lucille against the wall as he reaches down, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants before pulling out his cock. Giving it a few strokes, watching precum leak for his swollen tip. “So, fucking hard for you.”

Negan lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down as he collects your juices before he slowly pushes into you. His eyes practically rolling to the back of his head, leaning one hand against the wall while the other grips your hips. “Jesus, sugar. You’re so fucking tight!” He groans, sliding deep inside of you before pulling back out and thrusting in, repeating the movements over and over. “Shit!” His balls slap against your clit, causing you to dig your nails into the bench beneath you, your walls tighten around him, sucking him in deeper.

Your moans fill the room alongside the slapping of skin, you wiggle your arse, pushing up against him, causing him to go deeper inside of you. “That’s it, baby girl. You gonna let Daddy breed you, huh? Pump you full of my cum like before? You miss being full of me, sugar?” Negan’s words cause you to clench around him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yes! Yes! Please breed me, Daddy! Pump me full!” You whine, your toes curl as you cum, coating Negan’s cock with your juices. He grips your hips harder, burying himself deeper inside of you as he cums, coating your walls with his white cream. You sag, sinking into the bench beneath you.

“Fuck me, sugar. That was the best fuck I’ve had in a long time. Might have to take you with me.” Negan groans as he gently pulls out of you, tucking his cock back into his jeans and pushing his cum that leaks from your cunt back in. You let out a huff, your lower half tingling. “I gotta go, sugar. I hope we meet again.” He pinches your cheek before grabbing Lucille, swinging his bat over his shoulder and walks off, giving the woman at the front desk a nod before leaving, heading back to his sanctuary.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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dollfacefantasy · 6 months ago

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CRY IF I WANT TO ♡

pairing: negan x fem!reader

summary: life has been different since you've been taken to the sanctuary. you're not sure how you fit in here. some may call you one of the wives, but you don't think that's accurate. maybe his pet? his doll? as the days pass, you're not sure it really matters. the distinction doesn't get you any closer to escape.

cw: nsfw (18+), dark fic, smut, dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), kidnapping/captivity, stockholm syndrome, coercion, forced ddlg/daddy kink, humiliation kink, dacryphilia, violence (from negan, simon, and reader), hurt/comfort sorta

wc: 10.9k (oops lol)

a/n: ermmm... hehe yeah. i've been wanting to write this so i hope someone likes it. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <3

kinktober slot: day 13 - mindbreak (i think)

"Rise and shine, little lady. We got a lot of things to do today."

Your eyes flutter open, the bright light from the window in front of you broken up by the silhouette of the man at your bedside. The sight of him, even just the outline of his body, sends a nauseating crackle of dread through your bones. It's a feeling you can't verbalize of course - not if you want this day to resemble any sort of pleasant.

"There she is," Negan says, speaking with his signature cadence that made you want to rip out your hair, "How'd you sleep, babydoll?"

"Fine," you rasp as you slowly sit up. The mornings were the only time you could get away with dull answers like that. Any small bit of attitude could be blamed on you being 'cranky' rather than feelings of hatred that hadn't been broken down by this point.

He smiles at you, his rough hand cupping your jaw.

"You're so pretty in the mornings," he mumbles, sweeping a thumb over your pouty bottom lip.

You pause for a second, but so does he. Like he expects a reply. Unfortunately, you know the words he wants to hear. Swallowing the last sliver of dignity you have, you force out the response you'd been trained to say over the last however-long.

"Thank you, daddy."

He grins even wider if that's possible and pats your head. "You're welcome. Now let's get you dressed. Like I said, daddy's got a lot to do today."

You get out of bed and follow him over to the dresser that held your outfit for the day. The chill of cold air bites at your legs as the lack of blankets leaves them exposed. The generator had been out for the past day or so, leaving the Sanctuary victim to the harsh Winter raging outside. You were hoping he'd take that into account when picking your clothes, but you didn't hold out too much hope.

The two of you shuffle around the gray furniture of Negan's room. Even though you'd been in here more times than you could count now, you still marveled at the quality of the chairs and sofa. Items like these seemed luxurious with how the world was outside these walls.

When you reach the dresser, you follow the routine you'd become used to. You peel the small shirt you're permitted to sleep in off and drop it in the basket nearby. Your panties are next to go. You pull the dainty garment down and toss it to the same place as your top.

You can feel his eyes on you with every move you make. They watch how your breasts bounce when freed from their confines. They admire the curve of your ass when you bend over. They glimmer with smug satisfaction as you stand there nude before him.

"I'll tell you what. I never get sick of seeing this," he teases.

You offer a weak smile in return. The lack of energy almost seems to please him more.

He walks around to stand behind you, giving you a light pat on the ass as he does. His hands land on your hips first and then slide up to cup your breasts. He pulls you back, positioning you flush against his chest.

"You know I'd keep you like this all the time if I could," he murmurs in your ear, "Sweet and ready for me. Ripe for the pickin' whenever I felt the need."

The deep, gravelly rumble of it seems to trigger a flicker of heat in your lower belly on instinct, and you despise yourself for it. Shame burns so hot in your heart, it threatens to take the nausea you felt earlier into a full on dry heave. You're glad there's not a mirror in front of you. It's easier to keep a docile look plastered on your face when you don't have to stare yourself in the eyes.

The rough pads of his fingertips pinch and tweak your nipples, causing you to squirm a bit where you're standing, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of a noise. You can feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your neck.

You choose not to say anything to his last statement. There's no guarantee that he hasn't actually considered that, and you don't want to find out. Displaying you in that way in front of everyone doesn't seem like his style, but back when he had you lined up on your knees with the rest of your group, you wouldn't have imagined yourself ever calling him daddy either.

As you'd quickly learned in regards to most things around here, the risk just isn't worth it.

"I'd never do that to you though. Don't think anyone could keep their hands off if they saw all of you, and I just can't have that," he whispers, calming your fears for you. He pulls his hands away from your breasts and steps back to grab the pieces he'd be putting you in today.

He starts with panties. This pair is pink and ruffly just like the last. You step into it with rehearsed timing. One foot then the next. He slides them up to your hips and lets the elastic snap into place against your skin.

You had no clue where he got this shit. You didn't want to believe that his hold on his men was so strong that they'd waste an entire supply run raiding a Victoria's Secret, especially for women they never even got to touch.

It wasn't worth thinking about though. It's not like discovering the origins would spare you from wearing the damn things every day.

Next, Negan shakes the wrinkles out of your dress. You step into that too, just like you did with the underwear. Looking down, you catch a glimpse of the garment.

It's just as humiliating as all the rest he makes you wear. The fabric is bright white and baby pink. Like everything else, you have no idea how it was kept so pristine. The waist is accentuated with a pretty pink ribbon wrapped around it, tied into a large bow at the front. It's extra tight up top and melts into a puffy skirt down below.

He shimmies it over your body and yanks the zipper up in back. The dress conforms to the shape of your figure, leaving little to the imagination in terms of how much the neckline shows and how high the hem of the skirt sits.

Spinning you around, he whistles when he gets the full picture.

"Good God Almighty. Pretty as a picture," he praises, reaching out to pinch your cheek.

Again, you force yourself to smile.

He'd already dressed himself for the day before getting you up, so the rest of the time before you leave the room is spent working through the remnants of your morning routine. He takes you into the bathroom connected to his room to brush your teeth and do your hair.

"Say ah, sweetheart," he smirks before jamming the brush into your mouth.

He's not careful or attentive. He only does it long enough to let the weight of humiliation settle in your stomach. It's always obvious when it kicks in. You get this look on your face like that of an abandoned puppy. Only then does he let you spit and move on to the next task.

He styles your hair into something cute, though you hate it anyway. Like the dress, it's only intended to make you stick out. To draw attention to your status as his possession.

The last thing he does is put your socks and shoes on. Your feet get covered in a pair of frilly ankle socks before he slips a pair of chunky sneakers on you. At least if this place got overrun and you had to bolt, you wouldn't be totally fucked.

"You ready to go, honey?" he asks you when the first part of your torture has finally come to a conclusion.

Again, you nod while looking up at him.

He grins at you. "You're quiet today," he says.

"Sorry, daddy," you respond. The way he said it sounded like teasing, but you could never be too careful.

"Don't be. I like it," he says.

You don't know how he does it, how he deflates you so easily without even trying.

He turns and grabs that stupid bat he carries everywhere, swinging it to his side before facing you again and sticking out his hand.

"Got my two favorite girls, now we're really ready to go," he says. He gestures with his fingers. A small impatient reminder. "You know the rules."

Of course you know what he's referring to. Always hold daddy's hand when you leave the bedroom. One of the rules he'd prattled off to you when he first brought you here.

You reach out and take his outstretched hand, earning a kiss to your head.

The way he'd been holding his arm caused the leather sleeve of his jacket to ride up a bit. Beneath the stiff fabric, you could see the fading scar you'd given him around the same time you'd been informed of the rules. Two crescent shaped marks in the pattern of your teeth.

You can barely stand to look at it now. All it does is bring back memories of when you still held hope for escape or rescue. Back then, you'd thought it'd only be a matter of days until Rick or Michonne burst into the small bedroom they were keeping you in.

The day you'd sunk your teeth into him, he'd just finished giving you one of his speeches about your new life at the Sanctuary. According to him, you'd be so much happier here. Sure you couldn't see your family, but now you had someone better than them. You had him. And he would spoil and take care of a pretty thing like you in the way you deserved. Show off to the rest of your old group how generous he could be.

He'd reached forward to pinch your cheek just like he'd done earlier today. You wanted to smack him away, but he had your hands bound. So you did the next thing you could think of and bit him. Hard.

His eyes burned with fury you hadn't seen since. You can still hear in your mind the way he yelled, shouting "Goddamn it" so loud that the walkers out at the fence probably heard.

After that was a bit hazy. He'd snatched that limb away from you before bringing it back and striking you hard across the cheek. You'd nearly fallen off the bed from the force.

"You little bitch, you try some shit like that again, and I'll knock your fucking jaw loose," he growled before yanking you up right and forcing you to look at him.

Involuntary tears leaked from your eyes as you glared up at his face. Blood oozed from the stinging wound you could feel inside your mouth.

That cut had healed by now though.

You squeeze his hand harder while walking down the hall out of his room. Even though it was the hand that struck you, it was the only thing you had to hold onto now.

Your brain tries to compartmentalize him nowadays. There's Negan, and there's daddy. Negan is the one who gets mean. Negan is the one who yells. Negan is the one who killed your friends. Daddy is the one who cares for you. He keeps you safe and healthy. He'd never hurt you like that. You didn't think you'd survive with a shred of sanity without that distinction.

He feels your little grip and squeezes your hand in return. That's what daddy does.

You stay close to his side as he guides you on the walkway that looks down on the commotion of the main room. Even after what you guessed had been a couple months, if not more, you still didn't like this place. Everything was so transactional. No one cared about each other. It was all about what everyone had to offer. That was by design of course, but it didn't make you any less critical of it.

Your eyes scan the clusters of people below. Although you weren't allowed to socialize on your own, you were starting to get a grasp on the cliques here. Negan's closest advisors all seemed to amalgamate in one area, spare the guy with the burnt face. The table closest to the window was where most of the soldiers ate while the one by the door seated the workers.

You weren't completely sure what class you fit into here.

The most obvious guess would be the group you're about to encounter, Negan's wives. But there are stark differences between you and them that prevent you from feeling camaraderie.

The two of you approach the room where he keeps this group of women. He maintains a tight grip on your hand as you slip through the doors. The disparities between you and the others become obvious as soon as you're within a few feet of them.

All of these women get to dress in black. They stand tall in heels, have earrings dangling next to their faces, and for some, a red tint painting their lips. All of them get to openly glare at him. They don't have to hide their hatred behind a feigned smile or soft laugh.

You know it isn't right to be jealous of them. They're suffering too. This isn't a happy situation for them either. But god, you can't help it. Envy nearly sears a hole through your heart every time you come into this room. What you wouldn't give to be one of them. To be allowed to drink and talk with other people. To not be under the constant threat of punishment.

Despite all these thoughts swirling through your head, you manage to keep your mask on. A simple, thoughtless look on your features as you stand next to him like an oversized accessory.

He looks down at you before dropping your hand.

"Stay right here for me, sweet thing. Daddy's only gonna take a minute," he says.

He stalks off to the back corner of the room with a woman you'd come to learn is named Sherry. They speak in hushed tones, so you can't make out what they're saying. You figure it's about one of the girls sneaking around with some other guy. That's what it's usually about when he makes a stop here with you in tow. Even with their status elevated above yours, they don't get to escape the wrath of his possessiveness.

You stand there awkwardly, arms crossed over your midsection while your weight shifts between your feet. No one tries to talk to you. You can feel their eyes on your pastel form, but their gazes don't hold curiosity or interest. It's pity.

In the beginning, you thought they were looking at you with jealousy. After all, you got your own cell and then graduated to Negan's bedroom while they had to share amenities.

But they weren't naive like you had been. None of them wanted Negan's attention. They didn't want to be his pet or his dolly or whatever the fuck he would classify you as. They had each other, and they got to share the load between all of them.

You sigh quietly and look down at the sparkly trim of your white sneakers.

He finishes his conversation with Sherry and then migrates across the room towards a blonde, crying girl. They speak at the same volume as him and Sherry. It's not worth trying to eavesdrop on.

Instead, you patiently wait the couple minutes it takes for them to finish up and for him to return to you. When he walks back over, you can tell the discussion hadn't been a positive one. His shoulders seem weighed down by whatever information he'd gathered from them.

But the dark cloud above him fades away as his hand slips back into yours. He leads you out of the room just as you'd come in and continues walking with you.

You hesitate but decide to try. "Are you ok?" you ask softly.

His head turns slightly to cast you a look. For a moment, it seems the daddy act has fallen away. He looks at you like he would any other woman who asked him that. Cold. Analytical. But the persona makes its reappearance seconds later as he pulls on a smirk for you.

"Just fine, honey. You don't gotta worry about me," he answers.

You know you should just nod and shut up, but it drives you crazy being led around like a child expected to be seen and not heard. So you decide to try again.

"Did they do something bad?" you ask. You hate how weak your voice comes out. There's no spark to it, no bite or sharp edge. All of that, he'd extinguished in you.

He drops your hand and drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you to his side.

"What are you so curious for, huh? You know something about it?" he responds.

You shake your head. Your arm rises and wraps around his torso.

"No. I just don't like when you're upset," you say. You lean your head into his chest to really sell it.

"Oh-ho, look at you. Turning on the charm," he chuckles, "I am just fine, sugar. I swear it. Sometimes those girls give me trouble, but it's nothing I can't handle."

You decide to just take it and nod this time.

He looks at you with satisfaction. "They can't all be like you, y'know? So well-behaved," he praises.

The compliment makes your blood curdle. You couldn't stand that he would act like obedience was your defining trait.

When you were with your group - your family more like - you would never have been described as obedient. Whether at the prison or Alexandria, it felt like every other day you were sneaking off to try something. You were always quick to spring into action, never the type to let someone belittle you. Rick got on your ass about deviating from plans in spurs of emotion more than anyone else. Maybe that's how you wound up here.

You had tried to stop them from taking Daryl. On that dark night in the woods, surrounded by the ring of headlights, you had tried. You didn't rush at Negan like your friend. Not wanting someone else to get their head bashed in, you were more subtle than that. But you attempted to get in the way of the guys carting him off. That's what landed you here. Tucked under his arm, the very weapon that took away two people you love swinging a foot away from you.

But you swallow down all of this rage and nod again. You nuzzle into his chest, a way to conceal the tightening sensation in your throat and the sting of tears at your waterline.

This is the worst part about Negan, you decide. The way he makes you act like you want it.

From your first day here, he made sure to tell you over and over how he's staunchly against rape. He's not a monster. He's not that kind of guy. No, no. You are a prisoner, so yes, technically here against your will, but never in a million years would he violate you in that way.

And he'd stuck true to that. Whenever you screamed or cried or yelled "no" on a loop until he shook you around like a bobble head, he always backed off of his advances. He never copped a feel or slid a wandering hand in your panties while you slept, never held you down or physically forced himself on you.

Instead, he broke you down until saying yes seemed like the only sane option.

You didn't want his affection? That meant you must not want to talk to anyone at all. For days. You didn't want to sit in his lap? Maybe you'd prefer kneeling by his feet for a week, in private and around everyone else. You didn't want to sleep in his bed? Fine. You could sleep on the concrete floor without a pillow or blanket while the heat was out.

You reflect on all of this as the two of you trot through the boxy halls. He takes you around on all his errands for the day. You stop by the doctor's office, inventory, and Dwight's room. All over the place. You stay quiet the whole time. busying yourself with your thoughts as you stay attached to him.

Everyday the line between survival and free will becomes blurrier. You tell yourself that you have to be like this with him. You'll be worse off if you don't act the part of the sweet, adoring girl he wants. But then sometimes you wonder if you truly are becoming obedient. Like a wildcat tamed into a lazy house pet. You almost never resist his touch anymore. You even go to him for comfort sometimes.

The idea kills you, so you deem it best not to think about for now.

Rather, you focus on guessing what the rest of the day would hold. It's already the afternoon by now. The sun hangs low by the tree line, shimmering into the Sanctuary through the rectangular windows across the walls. He wouldn't have a meeting with the lieutenants today. Those were almost always around lunch time. You didn't think he'd spend it with one of his wives either. If that was the case, he usually gave you a heads up in the morning.

The most likely possibility you come up with is the dilemma from earlier. You had never been invited to see the culmination of those though. Normally, he kept you safe and sound in his room while he tended to matters like that, ready to provide him some stress relief when he finished.

But things can always change, and now it seems like that's the case.

He guides you back into the main room. A crowd has gathered down below. You can't see the center point of their conglomeration. All you can sense are the nerves vibrating between everyone.

Their feet shuffle around on the hard concrete flooring. They look between each other with anxious eyes. Hushed chatter clouds the area until you and Negan begin to descend the stairs. That's when they all go quiet. Mouths close and pupils snap to the position of their leader.

You look down to lessen the ache of humiliation that came with accompanying the center of attention. The few times you had scanned the crowd for others' reactions, seeing if you could find a sympathetic gaze or outraged expression, all you found was animosity. The male workers and soldiers leered at you. They smiled and smirked, visibly amused by your girly outfits and docile disposition. On the other side of the aisle, the women glared, taking in the details of your appearance with disgust, like somehow it was your fault you got toted around like this.

His voice booms out to his audience as he takes step after step towards them.

"You all know what we're here for today," he starts, "We got simple rules 'round here, but some people still seem to have trouble following 'em."

Your hand stays linked with his as the two of you reach the landing.

"Watch your step, babydoll," he murmurs to you before continuing his speech. Your cheeks burn with shame.

"It feels like I'm doing this every other month. It's getting ridiculous," he lectures, "I don't like having to be so harsh. Truly, I don't. But rules are rules, and I don't know how I can make myself any clearer. They are not optional."

He walks further into the room with you. Being level with everyone else, you can see more of what's happening. They're gathered around a furnace. Dwight stands near the opening to the flames, clearly preparing something. Another man sits a few feet away. Over in the corner, the woman from earlier is looking at him and crying.

Looks like your guess was correct.

"So we're gonna do this again. Hopefully it's the last time," he concludes.

The crowd parts as you and him head towards the center of the room. He leads you over to an empty spot near the wall. Dropping your hand, he cups your jaw and makes you look him in the eyes.

"Stay right here for me. Daddy'll be right back," he says.

You nod and then watch as he turns away, waltzing over to where Dwight stands.

While your eyes are up, they can't help but catch on somebody familiar standing at the front of the crowd.

Daryl.

Your heart stutters, and you can see on his face that his does too. He looks worn down. Eyes dimmed and face hollowed. His clothes, dirty and ill-fitting. You start to feel tears pricking at your waterline from the sight. You weren't the only one they'd broken down.

In him, you find the compassion you'd been searching for. The look that told you at least one person here didn't take enjoyment from your suffering. But it comes from someone who truly can't help you. Who's in a situation as bad as your own.

You sniffle and try to wipe away any beginning tears before Negan or someone who would tell him notices.

The loud creak of a metal door opening drags your attention to the furnace though. You watch as Dwight pulls out the item he'd been preparing. A burning, metal iron becomes the new focus of everyone in the room.

Upon seeing the small object, so many things connect in your head. You know what's going to happen. You realize why Dwight's face is scarred. You understand why that woman is crying. And you know no one is going to stop any of this now or in the future.

Your heart pounds harder, and your breaths become shaky. Tears blur your vision further. You dig your nails into your palm to try and ground yourself, but it doesn't help. The scene in front of you has whipped your mind into a frenzy. You haven't felt this bad since the early weeks of being in this place.

This stupid fucking place. You hate it. You hate how cruel it is here. How disconnected and lifeless everything feels. You hate him for being the only one allowed to really live. You hate everyone else here for letting him get this powerful.

It's a complete spiral whirlpooling in your mind, only made worse by the fact that you have to keep it contained. You try to tell yourself you just have to wait it out. This couldn't take more than five minutes and then you could go back to the bedroom. You'd be ok. You could take off this itchy dress and put your hair back to how you like it. You could kick off these shoes and hide yourself beneath the warm blankets. None of these people would be around, all you'd have is the quiet between those walls where daddy could make it all better.

As you're in the process of mentally talking yourself down, Negan takes hold of the iron. To free up his hands, he offers Lucille off to someone nearby. Your eyes follow his leather-clad limb to the neck of the bat and then up to its new handler. You see Simon.

You have to look down now. If you don't, everyone here will see the look of pure terror on your face. You close your eyes and rein in whimpers that threaten to spill from your lips. Everything feels fuzzy around you, intangible and like your hands would drift right through them. Your head heats up, the sensation making you dizzy. You try to steady yourself by leaning back against the wall, but the cool, flat surface does little to ease your nerves.

It does even less when you hear his voice closing in on you.

"Hey there, princess," he starts, voice laced with mockery, "You feeling alright?"

You're not looking at him, but the image of his stupid face projects with HD clarity in your mind. You swallow hard and nod.

Laughing lowly, he comes to stand beside you. "You sure about that? You're looking kind of lightheaded," he taunts.

"I'm fine," you choke out.

His hand darts up and grabs your jaw. He doesn't gently guide your eyes where he wants them to look. He yanks your face in his direction like an unruly child with a doll.

"I don't know about that. You're looking kind of rough," he says while glaring down at you with those ruthless eyes, "Maybe I should take you over to the doctor's. We both know Negan wants his favorite toy kept in good condition."

Your entire body vibrates with hatred for this creature. Every breath you take acts as an effort of restraint, a way to lull yourself into not ripping out what hair he has left.

You didn't just despise Simon because he's an asshole or because he was the person harassing your group leading up to that horrible night you were taken. Your aversion for him stems from experiences entirely your own.

A few days after the biting incident, you had tried getting physical with Negan one more time. You'd managed to worm one of your wrists out of your restraints, and instead of aiming for escape, you decided revenge held a higher priority. You waited for him to come check on you, keeping your arm tucked to your body as if it was still bound.

When he finally came in, you sat there and took the speech, took the condescension, and took the promises that you would conform. And then he leaned a bit closer. That's when you backhanded him as hard as he had you the few days prior.

After the hit landed, you lunged forward and tried to wrap the rope connected to you around his neck. You pulled as hard as you could, and for a moment, you thought you had won.

But wrangling you off was easier than you anticipated. They hadn't been allowing you much food or sleep, so the strike took most of your energy. It only took him a handful of seconds to snake his hand under the rope and then pry your arms away.

He stood up and slammed you into the wall with his hand around your throat. In that moment, he didn't look at you with the same fury he had before. This time around, frustration dominated his gaze.

"Was that fun for you?" he asked.

You didn't answer. Your chest puffed with exertion while your eyes stared daggers into him.

"What did I tell you last time? What did I fucking tell you?" he asked. Despite the look in his eye being less volatile, his tone of voice was dangerous as ever. "I told you I would knock that jaw of yours loose. That's what I said, and I meant it. I don't want you thinking I didn't. But I'm not gonna do that right now because I don't think it would work, and I'm not one to waste my own time."

Internally, pride swelled in your chest, thinking you had called his bluff. But then he kept speaking.

"I have a bad feeling that if I struck some sense into you that you'd just try to strike it into me right back, and I can't have that. That's just not gonna fly around here," he said, "So I'll tell you what: I have a better idea. You don't wanna play with daddy? Then you can spend a weekend with your Uncle Simon. See how much fun he can be."

Back then, you didn't know Simon as the right hand man. You didn't have his name and face connected yet. Now, you wished you could go back to that state of mind.

You were with him for three days while Negan did a tour of the outposts and subjugated communities. Only 72 hours. But an hour of him would have been enough to scare you for a lifetime.

When he first came into the room, you didn't get the feeling that him and Negan would handle you so differently. You could tell from the way he looked at you that, like his boss, he looked at you as something to toy with. A source of amusement. The difference, you soon found out, was how they played with their toys.

Unlike daddy, Simon didn't talk just to talk. He didn't warn you of future spankings or timeouts. He hit. And he kicked. And he shoved you down and tossed you around. He didn't offer the same condolences daddy did, there was no "this hurts me more than it hurts you." Nothing he did even bothered Simon. He watched you hurt, and he enjoyed it.

You didn't even get a reward once you'd settled down. Your attitude had disappeared almost instantly. Having the wind knocked out of you once was enough for you to become more amicable, but your change in demeanor didn't phase him. It wasn't his goal.

The only rules Negan left him with were the basic ones for the Sanctuary along with no killing you or causing permanent damage. But that didn't mean he couldn't threaten you with breaking them. He went on and on during the down periods where you cowered in the corner or huddled against the wall of your bedroom cell, telling you stories of how he went rogue before. Any horrible thing he could think of, he dangled in front of you as a potential fate.

When Negan finally came back, you eagerly awaited him. Despite your sleep deprived and bruised condition, your eyes stayed locked on the door like a puppy expecting their master. For the next week, you latched onto him. Didn't want to leave his side. He had made his point. You could hate him as much as you wanted but leave you alone with Simon for a little while, and you'd beg for him back.

That's how you feel right now, staring up into Simon's eyes while he holds your jaw. The pressure his fingers put on your cheeks serve as a reminder of the pain he can inflict while his other hand holding the bat twirls the weapon near your calf. As much as you had been internally preaching your hatred for everything to do with Negan minutes ago, all you want to do now is run into his arms.

You feel more tears wanting to slip down your cheeks, but you try your best to hold them in. The more you cry, the more I like it. That's what he'd told you more than once over those three days.

"Just leave me alone," you tell him. You try to sound as firm as possible, but even your own ears catch the way your voice quivers. "Negan wouldn't like you talking over him."

Your attempt at taking a stand falls flat. He doesn't back off any, rather, he leans in closer.

"Negan, huh? Are you even allowed to call him that?" he mocks and feigns a pout.

"Just shut up!" you say. You mean it as a threat; though, it hits his ears like a plea. More hot panic rushes down your spine from the stress of having to remain quiet while also trying to be assertive.

His lips flatten into a line before he continues speaking. "Your head's getting too big for those shoulders, little girl. You better watch your attitude, or I might have to suggest you're due for some more correction," he mutters.

A loud scream rips the two of you from your conversation. He drops his hand from your face, and you both straighten up against the wall. Negan stands in the center of the room, pressing the blazing iron to the side of the man's face.

He wails until he passes out, and that's when his leader peels away the device of torture. Sticky skin goes with it before snapping back against his face like a rubber band. You grimace, your stomach twisting at the sight. You'd seen so much blood and guts over the years of living out on the road and fighting with other groups, but melted skin was a new one.

Negan turns to Dwight and gives him the iron back. You breathe an involuntary sigh of relief, subconsciously soothed by the thought of him returning to your side.

The reprieve ends suddenly though when a small, sharp pain slices along the meat of your calf. You whimper and lift your leg away on instinct. Looking for the source, you see the bat twirling from the motion of Simon's wrist. One of the barbs had caught your skin. Your eyes flit up to him.

"Watch out!" you say. The old you would have been seething. She would have pulled out her pocket knife and given him a little receipt for the cut. But now, you watch him with fearful eyes, trying to gauge whether or not you would get in trouble for calling him an asshole.

"Remember what I said," he tells you quietly as a trickle of red runs down to the lacy frills of your sock.

Before you can respond, a warm hand lands on the small of your back. Your head turns to find Negan smiling down at you.

"What's with the long face, sugar? Simon bothering you?" he asks, clearly not meaning it seriously even though to you it is exactly that.

You part your lips to answer, but Simon beats you to it.

"Bothering her? C'mon. I'm just checking up on her. She looked a little dizzy, so I offered to take her to the doctor's," he says, light as ever, "I'm just watching out for her, y'know? Sweet thing like her will get eaten alive here if she's not careful."

Negan raises his eyebrows, and for a second, you think he's about to take your side. But then he just chuckles and shakes his head.

"She's doing just fine. That was her first time seeing one of those, so she's probably a little shaken up," he says, rubbing your arm.

"Hm... Sounds about right," Simon replies, "I know that's not how her little group did things."

"Yeah. So I'll get her back to the room. Think you can handle shit down here?" he says, gesturing around to the dispersing crowd.

"Always," Simon says with a mock salute. He then hands Lucille back.

Finally, you find some relief, some true sanctuary as Simon walks away. Your body physically relaxes. Negan feels it underneath his arm and spares you a glance as the two of you walk back up the stairs.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

You want to just take the easy route and say no, to play along with this sadistic charade and not cause any trouble. But you can't get the single syllable out. It feels impossible to even shake your head. Even though Simon's gone, the weight of everything that happened still remains along with the stinging in your leg.

Your throat feels tight, and your eyes feel like they're two seconds from overflowing. The lights suddenly seem too bright, and everyone here is too loud. You can't show him that though. You don't want more correction. You don't want someone to like it when you cry. But you can't ignore him either. That would be the worst thing to do.

All you manage in response is a shaky shrug. You let out a broken sigh with it and lean into his chest. The tension in your shoulders returns as you fight to keep the tears from leaking out against the worn leather.

At first, he doesn't say anything, and the two of you keep walking. Your steps remain in time with his as you traverse the walkway and around the corner. Then the two of you come to a stop when you're out of sight. He turns you by your shoulders, holding you in front of him so that you can't shy away.

"I got one more thing to attend to out by the fence. Think you can handle that?" he asks.

Your heart pulses to an uneven rhythm, trying to decide what to do without devolving into pure panic. You bite your lip as you mull your options over. Say yes and go with him. Then inevitably fail to contain yourself and get in trouble. Or, say no now and risk punishment for being defiant. You're not sure which one will end up worse.

"Can... can we just go back to the room?" you ask. Your voice comes out weak as if every word siphons a drop of energy from you.

He eyes you with uncertainty of his own; though, there's no fear in his look. His gaze is careful, an attempt to decipher if this is some kind of deception. You'd been pretty well-behaved as of late, but one bad day could take even the most obedient pet to a rabid dog, jaws primed to gnash.

But you didn't really have a reason to lie. The bedroom with him would provide the least likely chance at escape, and in the condition you were in now, you didn't seem to be planning an attack.

Slowly, he nods. "Sure, honey. I'll have Arat handle the other shit," he tells you before leading you in the direction of his bedroom.

The words he mumbles through his radio sound distant to you. You watch your legs switch between one and the other as you walk. On your right, you see the small red splotch staining the pristine cloth of your sock.

Before you know it, he's pushing open the bedroom door and bringing you inside. It then closes behind you, creating a barrier between you and everything else out there. It gets a little easier to breathe.

He guides you the few steps over to the edge of the bed and sits down, pulling you onto his lap. You feel his eyes scanning over you in an attempt to figure out the problem without asking. His hand rubs up and down your back over the crinkly fabric of your dress. His other palm focuses on your legs, coasting over your knees and the area of your thighs the skirt doesn't cover.

The code is harder for him to crack than usual. Normally when you got upset, it resulted from something he said. And he knows that because, usually, that's his intention. It was always either that or you'd just generally be feeling down, missing your home. But that doesn't seem to be the case right now. You seem more antsy than your normal bouts of sadness. He doesn't think it was from watching the spectacle downstairs. He knows you hate the saviors indiscriminately. Watching some random guy's face melt off wouldn't have you this upset. Finally, he relents.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He actually makes an effort not to sound like he'll make fun of whatever your answer may be.

"I just don't feel good," you choke out and bite your lip.

He feels you shudder on his lap, and he knows it's not the full truth. Pulling you a little closer on his thighs, he continues to look down at you.

"C'mon, baby. Tell daddy what hurts," he coaxes.

Your face tenses, but you know he won't drop this. "Just... just... I don't know. A lotta stuff," you say. You couldn't decide on a lie to commit to.

He sighs and bounces his leg with you on it a few times. "Did someone say something to you? Was someone bothering you?" he asks as his scope of potential causes narrow.

You're in the middle of trying to think of a cover story when his hand glides down to remove your shoes. He knocks one off. Then the other. The foamy white sneakers clatter to the ground next to his foot.

He goes to bring his hand back up, dragging it over the fine threading of your socks, but his eyes catch on the bloody splotches near the edge. Grabbing your ankle, he tugs your limb upward. It puts you at an awkward angle and nearly knocks you from your perch on his thigh. He stares the small wound down, assessing every detail of the tiny scrape.

"How'd you get this?" he asks. He looks over to you.

In reality, it may have been the most standard question in the world. But it hits your ears like an accusation and brings a fresh wave of tears that you can't control. Your lip quivers as your lids blink a few droplets over your water line.

"Simon did it," you weep.

You're scared he won't believe you, but after a few seconds, he drops your foot and pulls you close. His arms wrap around you tight and keep you flush against his chest. The warmth of the embrace encompasses you. You let the dam burst and cry into him, pouring all your sadness out against his body.

His hand sweeps up and down your back in comforting strokes. "Shh, shh, shh, sweetheart. Daddy's got you," he murmurs.

You feel him shrug off his jacket and push it aside, leaving the plain material of his t-shirt to soak up your anguish. He keeps you as close as possible. One of his hands cradles the back of your head to ensure you don't pull away.

"Does Simon bother you a lot?" he asks.

You nod. "Whenever I'm not with you," you choke out.

He hums in acknowledgement. "I'll talk to him. He's not supposed to hurt you when you're being such a good girl for daddy."

"I was trying really hard," you sob, your voice cracking, "I've been trying to be good. But he just hates me anyway. He's so mean to me."

Your arms snake around him as tight as a pair of snakes aiming to kill. You cling to him with everything you have, as if he's your one true savior from this living hell and not the cause of it.

In your head, you feel like you're annoying him. He's probably waiting for you to calm down, so he can nip this blossom of resentment in the bud. Good girls don't have tantrums or meltdowns, right? And all he cares about is that you act the part of a good girl.

But you only think all of that because you can't see the smile on his face right now.

He's grinning more than any of the times he got you to say something humiliating or cooperate with a punishment. The look he displays now reaches a new level of smugness, higher than the night he killed two of your people and traumatized the rest of them. His satisfaction runs deeper this time because right now, you're truly broken.

This isn't something you agreed to because the other option was worse. It's not something he had to coach you into or manipulate a situation into becoming. You did this all on your own. You came to him. Sure, he had to coax it out of you a little bit, but once he got his foot in the door, you let him right in. You're clinging to him for comfort, looking to him for a solution. He couldn't be more pleased. This is exactly what he wanted - to break you down. Now he just had to reel you back in the slightest bit, get you in that perfect middle ground between too independent and non-functioning.

"You have been doing really good for me, y'know? I'm proud of you, baby," he tells you in the most earnest tone he can manage, "Don't worry about Simon for right now, ok? Daddy's gonna set him straight. He won't bother you again."

You nod, but the reassurance doesn't stop the flow of tears from your eyes. Your fingers stay clenched around the fabric of his shirt.

"No more tears, honey, c'mon," he coos. He pries your limbs from around him and boosts you to your feet, standing you between his thighs. "I'll take care of it just like I take care of you. Let's just worry about what my little baby needs to feel better right now."

You take a few seconds to think about it, but the answer comes with relative ease. The most agitating thing about this situation right now is wrapped all around you, scratching at your sides and digging in under your arms.

"Can you take my dress off?" you sniffle.

His eyes fall from your face over your body. "What? You don't like this pretty little number?" he teases.

For once, you don't feel like you're two seconds away from punishment. You feel like it's a joke, and you don't have to awkwardly straddle the line between playing along with the humor and submitting to the literal interpretation.

"It's ok... it's just kinda scratchy," you say and wipe away your tears with the back of your hand.

"Spin around for me then. We'll get it off you. Can't have it irritatin' that soft skin while you're tryin' to relax."

You take the few steps to turn around. His fingers grasp the zipper and undo the baby pink prison you'd been trapped in for the day. Feeling the chafing fabric pulled away from you lets you take a real breath for the first time in hours. Already a small bit of relief. It only compounds when the garment hits the floor and pools at your feet.

He tugs you back by the waist and lays you across the bed, body on full display for him. Right now, you don't mind his gaze tracking your curves. He leans over you, his hands coasting from the sides of your breasts down to your hips.

"You're prettier like this anyways, princess," he praises.

"Thank you, daddy." It spills out as naturally as water from a faucet.

He rewards you with his lips on your stomach instead of words. Kissing the smooth, warm skin, his lips travel from just above your navel to the divot between your breasts. Your nipples rise to attention automatically.

His hands slide up to cup your mounds of flesh. He fondles and gropes them as his lips migrate up the curves to the hardening little peaks. They don't latch on just yet. He teases them with kisses instead, letting the anticipation of blissful suction build.

You take your lip between your teeth as you watch him. Chills break out across the rest of your body. You know you should be fighting. You know you should kick and scream and cry. You should try to take advantage of his closeness and get towards your revenge. But in your hellish life, are you not allowed one moment of pleasure? You haven't let those plans of escape and vengeance go, but you want this right now. You want to feel good, and he gives you that.

This isn't Negan. This is daddy. And you don't wanna hurt daddy.

His tongue peeks out from between his lips to trace wet circles around your nipple. The sensation draws a whine from you. Your body squirms beneath him with an eagerness to feel more.

"I think I know how to make you feel better. Take your mind off all that stuff from before," he whispers.

He takes one of your nipples between his lips, flicking the bud with the tip of his tongue and scraping his teeth against the sensitive area. You reward the choice with a mewl and squirm your legs. He chuckles and then switches to the other one.

"That feel good?" he asks.

You nod, your head tilting back and your eyes fluttering.

Grinning, he continues his work on your chest. You whine and squirm for him, giving him all the reactions he craves. Soon, his hand ghosts up your inner thigh. His fingertips drag over the flesh and land on your clothed center. Through the thin pink cloth, he rubs at your clit. That garners a breathy moan and a full body shudder.

"Goddamn, you are so cute," he chuckles, "Just a few little touches and you squirm around like a virgin for me."

Heat floods your cheeks, but you don't bother disputing the claim. It was the truth. You weren't sure what it was about him that got you so amped up and needy.

The pad of his middle finger swirls around the little nub in your panties. He can already feel the fabric getting sticky from the wetness between your thighs.

"Poor baby. You're so easy to play with," he says.

His mouth leaves your breasts now and begins to retrace its path down your stomach. It glides over your skin with open-mouthed kisses all the way down to the hem of your underwear. His fingers fall away from your center to your dismay.

Your disappointment is short lived though. You feel him position your thighs on his shoulders. When you look down, his eyes are staring right back up at you, gleaming like that of a panther ready to pounce.

"You want daddy's mouth on you? Will that help you feel better?" he rasps.

You nod quickly. "Please, daddy," you whimper.

"So polite. You didn't even need me to remind you of your manners," he smirks.

You don't even care about that remark. It washes right over you. All your mind is concerned with right now is getting more of his touch.

He brings his index finger back between your legs. He hooks it beneath the soaked seat of your panties, pulling it to the side and revealing your slick folds to him. The thumb on his opposite hand comes up to rub over the length of your slit up to your clit. Back and forth, nice and slow, just to tease you.

Your hips writhe the slightest bit, and he nips the skin of your inner thigh.

"Tsk. You know good girls are patient. They don't wriggle around. I've taught you better than that," he chides.

"Sorry," you say, backing down quickly.

"It's alright. I know you're having a rough day, so I'll let it slide this time," he says. He then leans in to lay some kisses on your clit.

Your eyes roll back and your toes curl. He never let things slide. This must have been a miracle. The same man who always toted that the rules weren't optional, letting you bypass one? Maybe you were his favorite. That's what you took it as anyways.

He makes out with your cunt like it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen. His lips engulf it, spreading his affection from your little bundle of nerves all the way down, nearly reaching your puckered entrance below. You whine and clutch at the bedsheets. You were still too scared to grab his hair. You weren't sure if he'd like it and groan or glare at you in a way that said you'd pay for it later.

It doesn't matter to you right now though. What you hold isn't important when you feel this good. It feels like a firework show is erupting in your belly, bright bursts of all different colors. Your heels dig into his back, subconsciously keeping him buried between your thighs.

He's tempted to tear your panties off and fling them aside. He would if not for the limited number in his possession. If this was normal life, he'd rip a pair to shreds on a weekly basis. These things were so cute when he put them on, but when he wanted at you, he despised them. If this was normal life, he'd just buy you new ones whenever a tattered one had to be tossed. But then again, if this was normal life, he wouldn't have you at all, so it isn't really worth thinking about.

Refocusing his mind on your pleasure, he dives further into your cunt. His nose bumps your clit as his tongue fucks into you. He pushes it in a few times before pulling back and just lapping at your pussy in broad strokes, getting every drop of you he can. Two of his fingers prod at your entrance before slipping in. They fuck deeper than his tongue, but don't stretch you out like his cock. A happy medium to walk the steps of preparation.

He maneuvers his digits with expert precision, scissoring and curling them at the perfect intervals. You can't help the way your hips buck in response. He doesn't get on you about it though. He just wraps your arms around his hips and holds you in place.

Your thighs squeeze around his head too. Luckily, that wasn't against the rules. He loved feeling the heat of your plush legs wrapped around his skull, keeping him close.

He pumps his fingers faster, curling them right against that spot that got you to squeal and cry out his name.

"Cum for me, babydoll. All over my face. I wanna feel it," he rasps.

It's a fortunate coincidence he gives you that command because you were about two swipes of his tongue away from doing it on your own. You melt against the bed, eyes fluttering and body jerking and quivering as rushes of pleasure sweep through you.

Your fingers grip the blankets so tight they threaten to tear into them, but then they loosen completely and go lax next to your hips. He licks your cunt through the entire thing, not letting you come down until the euphoria has thoroughly washed through you.

While you're lying there, dazed and blissed out, he untangles himself from your legs and stands at the edge of the bed. He wipes your nectar from his facial hair before pulling his shirt over his head and unzipping his pants.

"I think daddy deserves a little reward for making you feel so good, pretty girl. What do you say?" he asks.

Of course, you nod. There was no way you would reject him while still so close to the high of your last release. He grins at your hazy movement and shoves down his pants, jerking his cock a few times and crawling on the bed to hover over you.

"You're such a good girl for me. Better than I ever thought you'd be," he says while looking down at your face.

"Wanna be good for you, daddy," you say softly, blinking at him with your misty doe eyes.

His grin spreads even wider. In your sane mind, you probably would have thought it looked like some creature out of hell. But right now, the look just makes you giggle and squirm.

Down below, he lines up at your entrance. He slides his tip through your arousal a few times, getting it nice and wet before he sinks in. A smile of your own rises on your face, and he groans at the deep satisfaction of having your cunt embrace him so readily.

"Perfect little pussy, fuck," he grunts, "Think it's the best I've ever had."

You preen at that compliment. He balances his forearms on each side of your head as he begins to thrust. Your legs rise up and lazily wrap around his waist, which he loves. He can't get enough of the fact that you want him, that you're pushing him deeper and not letting him pull out too much.

His head falls beside yours, letting you hear every pant and grunt that falls from his lips. Your walls squeeze around him every so often. The noises make your tummy flutter for him. It drives you wild to know you brought him to such a state of lust.

"Christ, you're so fucking tight," he mumbles.

You giggle again and drape your arms around his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. You just get lost in the feeling of him inside you, his cock battering all your sweet spots just right. He leans in and kisses at your neck. His hips pump deeper, ramming his shaft further into the warm depth of you.

In this moment, everything feels so good and pure. You can't even imagine any of the pain he inflicted on you before. It all feels like a distant dream. Memories that belonged to someone else, not you. At this second, it feels as though this bliss will last forever. Just you and him tangled in the throes of passion without a concern for anything else happening beyond the privacy of his room.

When you open your eyes, they're a little watery from all the stimulation and how good it feels mixed with your saccharine thoughts. You arch off the bed a few inches, pushing your pert breasts against the warmth of his chest. He pushes you back down with ease, keeping you angled exactly where he wants you.

Pulling back a little to look at your face, he smiles when he sees the water gathering in your eyes.

"Oh, those are the tears I like to see," he croons.

You moan, a little shiver coursing through you. It only encourages him to pound his hips harder against you, in and out, in and out, until you're both approaching the edge.

"You gonna cum again for me, sweetheart? Show daddy how good he's making you feel?" he murmurs.

"Yeah, mhm, ah-" you whimper, "I wanna cum daddy, wanna cum for you."

"I know you do," he chuckles, "I can feel it."

Your cunt contracts and releases around him with increased frequency now. He knows you're moments away from reaching the peak. Swiveling his hips, he tries to strike that chord and bring you crashing down.

You whimper, the pitch getting higher as the glass gets closer to shattering. Finally, with one good jerk of his pelvis, you tense up and cry out. A couple tears trickle from your eyes. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

Your body trembles and rolls with the feeling. He fucks you through it, savoring every delicious squeeze of your cunt around him. A few breathless groans rumble out of him. He gets every last second in your hole he can before he has to pull out.

He snaps his hips back, replacing the tightness of your pussy with his hand. It's not the same, but it will do. He gives it a few quick strokes before he explodes and spills on your belly. You lift your head and watch as the ropes of hot, sticky cum land on your skin.

His hips jerk with each surge of release firing from him. When he finishes, his head hangs, and he takes a moment to catch his breath. He scoots off of you and cools down beside your body on the bed. It's quiet for a few moments; though, he's never one to be vulnerable, so he doesn't let the silence linger for too long.

"You feeling better?" he asks and rotates his head to look at you.

You nod, visibly more relaxed than before.

"Thank you, daddy," you say, sweet as can be, before leaning in and pecking his lips.

He stares at you for a few moments in fond satisfaction. Then he gets up, and pulls you to your feet with him.

"C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up," he says.

You follow obediently to the bathroom where he wipes you off with a damp rag and makes sure you're all set to get some rest after. Both of you make your way to the dresser next. He pulls another set of those panties out and slips you into them. They don't feel so horrible this time around, but in the back of your mind, you're sure that won't be the case tomorrow morning. A soft, thin shirt covers your upper body next. It's the same baby pink color as the dress, but you don't mind since it's much more comfortable.

On your own, you tuck yourself to his side for the short walk back to the bed. He climbs in first and then tugs you into your spot next to him.

"I want you to try and get some rest," he tells you, stroking down the side of your face, "When you wake up, I'll get you something to eat, but for now, I want you to take a nap, ok?"

You aren't particularly tired, but while living here, sleep has become your greatest method of escape. You never reject a chance at it. The only thing is, right now, you don't really want to escape. You don't feel a horrible gnawing sensation from being so close to him.

However, you agree anyways because daddy knows best for you, and you don't want to make him upset.

You lie your head on his chest and snuggle up to him. He holds you close, rewarding the compliance by rubbing your back.

"Sweet dreams, babydoll," he murmurs.

You shut your eyes, allowing your mind to recede into visions of the life and people you had before this. The life you still hoped one day you would get back, even as it became more and more like a fantasy rather than a realistic future.

#negan x reader #negan smut #negan x you #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan smith smut #twd x reader #twd smut #twd imagine #twd x you #twd x y/n #ch: negan 💌

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chelseypprimrose · 2 years ago

Text

Jilted Ex-Lover / Negan x Reader / fiancésdad!Negan

Warnings ⚠️: unprotected sex, elements of rough sex, use of petnames, oral (fem receiving) not proof read yet.

Summary: After your fiancé leaves you high and dry on your wedding day, his dad comforts you in a way you didn’t ever expect.

A/N: I got burnt out to fuck writing this lol, writers block was strong on this one, hope you enjoy it all the same though, thank u for all the love on my other stories 🤍🫶🏼

“How the fuck could he do this to me?” You exclaimed, stomping down the hallway of the old manor house, the rooms still decorated in the victorian inspired decor you’d picked out months ago. Making it back to your bridal suite, you threw the doors open, reaching under your dress to get your uncomfortable heels off your feet, throwing them into the corner without a care. Your bridesmaids followed behind you, a couple on their phones trying to get in contact with your fiancé, or should you say ex-fiancé. You’d noticed he’d been getting jittery the closer the date got, not caring when you’d come to him for his opinions on the food menu or the DJ set list, him just humming along, his eyes still glued to his phone. You’d tried to push it to the back of your mind, chalking it up to just be cold feet, something that was common but when the day eventually arrived, it would all be fine. How foolish that was, on what was meant to be the happiest day of your life, the day you are meant to promise yourselves to one another, you’d been embarrassed in front of not only your friends and family, his as well. You kept replaying the moment over and over again in your head, the gasps of the wedding audience, hands going over their mouths in shock, the tears that entered your eyes and started to fall down your cheeks. He’d left you there at the alter, stuttering when it came to the all important question, running down the stairs, head held down as he rushed out of the door.

“So, what do you want to do Y/N? Everyone’s traveled here, everything is set downstairs.” One of the bridesmaids asked you, looking around at the others with a nervous look on her face, almost not wanting to ask you the question. You sighed, taking a hold of the crystal decanter that was on the dressing room table, using the ice tongs to place two cubes of ice in a matching whiskey glass, pouring a stiff drink. “You know what?” You laughed, taking the drink in one go. “Fuck him, there’s no chance I spent all this fucking money for everything to be cancelled. Tell everyone to head to the reception. We are continuing like this never happened.” Your bridesmaids started to text away on their phones, one looking up for a brief moment. “What about his family? Are they invited?” You looked towards her, a small smile on your face. “Of cause, I’m going to get some questions answered.”

You’d still changed into your reception dress, a long flowing silk white strapless number, you’d still had your first dance, just with your own father instead of your husband, a few fallen tears as you did, quickly wiped away. You’d had people coming up to you from both sides, what should have been congratulations became apologies and sympathies. You hadn’t heard from him since he ran away, the thought of somehow this being a dream now fully out of the picture. The beat of the cheesy classic wedding songs in the background, as you asked the bartender for another drink, passing your empty glass to them. Your nails tapped against the bar, looking around at everyone still enjoying themselves and dancing near the stage where the DJ was positioned. The bartender returned with your glass now full, a nod of appreciation as you took it.

“Drowning your sorrows, sweetheart? Can’t say I blame you.” You turned to look at where the voice came from, a small look of disapproval sat on your features. “Well, you have your own demon spawn to blame for that one, Mr Smith.” He let out a hearty chuckle, leaning on the bar top. You knew you shouldn’t be directing your anger at Negan, your fiancés father but you couldn’t help your feelings. You’d been racking your brain all day of how someone could think it was okay to completely abandon what was meant to be their life partner on the day of their wedding, knowing how embarrassing and disrespectful it was. “You really did a brilliant job of raising him, the fact he thinks that it’s morally better to absolutely embarrass me in front of everyone, he could have cancelled this before now, saved me the heartbreak.” You concluded, taking a sip of the wine from the glass. Negan looked at you with a guilty look on his face, his hand rubbing his face. “I’m so sorry doll, he never came to me with any of this, if I’d known he was going to do this, I would have shut that shit down, made sure he went about the right way to do it. That’s not the way I fucking raised him. It was a cowardly move.” You let out a sigh, you could tell from the way Negan was looking at you he was being completely truthful, you’d always got along, there would be no reason he wouldn’t have come to you with this, even if it meant going behind his sons back. “I know. Sorry, I just have a bit of resentment towards anyone associated to him at the moment, it isn’t your fault. Maybe just hit him in the face a couple times when you eventually find him.” You smiled, trying to lighten the mood for the moment before you cried again. He laughed at this, his arm leaving the bar to wrap around your waist in a gentle embrace. “Don’t worry doll, he’ll be getting an earful from me when I see him. I don’t like seeing your pretty face upset, especially not over some boy.” He pulled you close, his hand resting in place, you felt safe in Negan’s arms, a weird sensation coming over you, arousal? It was no secret that Negan was a good looking guy, anyone with a set of eyes could see how handsome he was, he had all the charm in the world to match as well. So suave, he held himself really well, almost a people person but wouldn’t take any shit from anyone. To be honest, there had always been some kind of silent attraction between the two of you, you’d noticed when his eyes had lingered on you for a little longer than was deemed socially appropriate, how he always seemed more relaxed in your company, when he’d bring you breakfast some mornings when he knew his son was away on business trips. He’d taken good care of you and welcomed you with open arms into the family, which caused the betrayal to sting more, you weren’t just losing a potential husband, you were losing a extended family relationship as well.

“Well if you would excuse me, I have to get back to people coming up to me and expressing their condolences, you’d think it was a funeral, not a wedding.” You slightly laughed, taking one last look in his eyes as you bid him farewell.

A couple hours later, after everyone had left, you found yourself in your suite, having taken your hair down from the intricate up do, having to weave out the small flowers that had been placed in the style and what felt like ten thousand bobby pins. Grabbing a quick shower, you’d put on a silk set with a short robe, what was meant to be your wedding night lingerie, another thing you’d spent a ton of money on that you didn’t want going to waste. You’d barely checked your phone through the night, looking at it now you hadn’t had any calls or texts from your estranged ex, concluding that was probably a good thing, not wanting to get upset thinking about it again. A loud knock at your door made you jump, throwing the soft duvet off your body as you made moves towards the door, a look of surprise at the person. “Hey doll, I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight, so…” Negan trailed off, raising the bottle of champagne and two flutes in his large hand. “Champagne? Aren’t you meant to drink that when you’re celebrating?” You questioned, cocking one hip to the side sarcastically with your eyebrow raised. “Well, depending on how you look at the situation, you could be celebrating the fact you don’t have to deal with a silly little boy anymore who can’t appreciate a good women in front of him?” You laughed, taking the bottle out of his hand, moving away from the door so he could enter the room. “Well, when you put it like that.” Negan shut the door behind you, taking a seat on the bed as he watched you pop open the bottle, pouring two glasses and handing him one. “To new beginnings?” You cheers with him, the glasses clinking together. “To new beginnings, doll. So what the plan from here? Weren’t you meant to be going on a honeymoon?” You huffed, you’d completely forgotten about your impending honeymoon, two weeks on your own sounded morbid. “I haven’t even thought about it, I forgot. Do you think it would be pathetic to go by myself? Maybe I can explain the situation and get refunded, I’ll just have to take the hit if not.” Negan smiled as he shook his head. “Nah, it’s not pathetic. Hell, you paid for the trip, you deserve the time away.” You nodded, taking a small sip of the champagne. “Yeah I guess, just don’t know how I feel about a solo trip, it will cause me to overthink everything and get upset.” You looked down at the ground, taking small steps until you were sat across from Negan on the bed.

“Did I do something wrong? I mean, am I really that insufferable that someone felt the need to run away from me? Is the idea of marrying me that bad?” You asked, the thoughts you’d tried to push down all day coming back to the surface, causing you to get emotional the more you fixated on it. “No doll, don’t think that shit. He royally screwed up on this one, there is absolutely no excuse to do what he did to someone, especially someone like you.” He moved to wrap his arms around you again, you leaning your head into his shoulder, your hand placed on his chest, you could feel his faint heartbeat on the surface. You sat for a short time, neither of you moving from the position you were in, savouring the moment. You looked up at Negan, those deep brown eyes of his almost staring into your soul. He glanced down at you as well, this unspeakable tension surrounding you both, he leant forward and began to kiss you, your eyes wide with shock. “Wha-what are you doing? Please don’t tell me this is some sort of pity kiss.” You asked, pulling slightly away from Negan as his hand began to the side of your face, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Of cause not, let me help you forget about that fucker. Doesn’t know a good women even though it’s staring him in the face. Let me make you feel good, doll.” You pulled him towards you, now capturing him in a feverish kiss, your hands exploring his neck, holding him tightly. “God please, help me forget.”

You moved to straddle Negan feeling him through the thin lingerie you had on as he met your kisses with just as much confidence as you. His tongue making quick work of turning your insides to jelly, moving to whip your robe off your body, making quick work of unclipping your bra as well. You took no notice of where the items of clothing landed, though you had a feeling you would regret that later. Your breasts now free, Negan took the liberty of exploring you, delighting in the arch of your back as he worked a nipple between his teeth. One hand was on your back, the other trying to work on getting your panties down. You stood for a moment, shedding the flimsy material off your body, Negan taking a moment to admire your curves, as you straddled him again; hot skin against hot skin. The sensation overwhelmed you, aching to have him inside you. “Fuck, you are perfect doll. So beautiful.” He mumbled against your lips, his hands now roaming your body.

He laid you down on the bed, your legs spreading to make room for him. He kissed your neck, gently nipping it as he worked his way down, more attention on your breasts. You knew what was coming but that still didn't prepare you for the sensation that came once his mouth made contact with your pussy. Your hips bucked, Negan using one hand to steady you. You still couldn’t believe you were actually going to have sex with your fiancés father, the ultimate fuck you. “Uh, Negan! Fuck, your mouth feels so good!”

He slowly slid two fingers inside of you, delighting in how slick and tight you were. He worked his fingers in and out, building a rhythm while still licking at your clit, causing you to moan out, your hands gripping the sheet below you. Before you knew it, you could feel the orgasm building inside of you, this is what you had been craving. Your fiancé could never give you pleasure like you were currently experiencing, never even going down on you really, always just chasing his own high. You’d missed the attention of a man who knew what he was doing and Negan definitely knew what he was doing. You thrust your hips forward, wanting to get as close to Negan as possible. He sped up his rhythm, his tongue continually flicking against you. You was close, so close. Your other hand was grabbing at his shoulder, leaving red marks underneath his shirt, where your nails dug in slightly.

“Fuck doll, you taste divine, so wet for me.” He whispered out, attaching his mouth back to you after. "I'm so close," you choked out, surprised at the fact that you could talk at all. "I'm going to come, Negan! Fuck! Don’t stop!” You moaned, gripping the sheet even tighter as your orgasm washed over your body. The muscles in your body contracted as you thrust toward him again. Negan continued to work your clit through your orgasm, sporadic moans leaving your lips as the wave of pleasure that rolled over you was unbelievable. You couldn't control anything, the waves subsided as you tried to relax your body. You loosened the grip that you had on his shoulder as he looked up at you, a confident grin on his face.

“You okay baby?” He asked softly, already knowing your answer. “Never better, I need you.” His hand caressed your breast again and down your body. He slid a finger into you, finding you to be wet and ready for him. Your hands explored his body again, practically ripping his suit down, exposing his shaft to you, it standing erect at attention. You ran your hand around the length of it, pleased to hear him moan as you did so. You pumped Negan’s cock a few more times, the pre cum oozing out of the top, causing your hand to become slick. You were nervous about Negan’s size, you’d never seen a more impressive cock. The way he stood over you as well, so manly and dominating. “You ready doll? You look so beautiful, so needy for me.” You could only nod, as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You moved to the top of the bed, propping yourself up on the soft pillows positioned there. You spread your legs a little wider as Negan slowly eased himself into you. “Oh fuck, you feel good.” You moaned as his entire length entered you.

He grabbed your legs, putting them up over his shoulders, allowing his cock to go even deeper. His hands gripped your thighs as he thrust himself into you at a faster, harder pace, almost taking your breath away. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, doll. Fits me perfectly.” he growled, reaching up and began tweaking one of your nipples. The sensation of Negan playing with your nipples, and fucking you relentlessly was almost more than you could take. You’d never been pleasured like this before, your other sexcapades being boring and too slow paced for you. You ran your nails down his still covered chest, the black blazer now disregarded by Negan, the crisp white shirt still on his frame, he looked so sexy in it. The thought that he just had to have you, he wasn’t even concerned about undressing made you feel so desirable. He leaned down and kissed you again, biting your lower lip in the process.

"Fuck me harder, please!” You moaned out, his lips now going to work on your neck, quickly finding your sensitive spots. Negan groaned appreciatively, speeding his rhythm up to meet your sordid demands. “Hang on, doll. I need to see that pretty ass of yours.” He slid himself out of your pussy and you whimpered at the loss of fullness you were feeling. He rolled you over, pulling your torso up so that your ass was in the air. He ran his hands over your ass, giving a slap to the supple skin, sliding himself back into your pussy. “Oh fuck yes, Negan!” You said happily, delighting in the new sensation, his cock hitting all the right spots deep inside you.

He rested his hands on your hips, thrusting hard into your pussy. He ran a hand over your ass again, raised it, and gave another hard slap. “Fuck! Do it again.” You begged, the dirty movements only increasing your pleasure. He raised his hand and smacked you again, his hand then running through your hair and pulling tightly on it, angling your head back. “Does that feel good, doll?” he asked. "Do you like that? Being such a good girl for me.” He praised you, his deep tone causing your body to light on fire. “Oh yeah, fuck yeah.” You managed to whimper out, the sound of your skin slapping against him as you met his thrusts. “You want me to do it again? Your ass is going to be red raw when I’m finished with you doll.” Negan whispered in your ear, continuing to thrust hard into your pussy. “Yes, please. Oh please!” You felt desperate, the pain mixed with pleasure was just too much for you to handle. “Beg for it, doll. Beg me.” he said, pulling your hair harder. “Oh fuck, please smack me again! Negan, you feel so fucking good inside me!” Negan kept slamming himself into you as he smacked your ass again.

"Fuck doll, I’m getting close, this pussy is heavenly.” he said a few minutes later, pumping your pussy hard. "Where’d you want me?”

"On my chest, all over me, please?” You requested, Negan thrusting faster as he chased his release. “You are a dirty fucking girl, you know that doll?” He pulled out of you, positioning yourself to the ground quickly as he leant just above you on his knees.

"Come on me baby, please! I need it.” you said, pushing your breasts up towards him with your inner arms, your hands grabbing his shaft, finishing him off. “Fuck yes, doll! You look amazing like that, so needy for my cum.” he choked out just before his climax hit him. Negan’s load came pulsating out, all over your chest, heavy breaths escaping both of you. You began to swipe his release on off your chest, sucking the salty taste off your fingers, his eyes locked on to the dirty sight in front of him, his face lighting up. He helped you up, back onto the bed, giving you another kiss as he did. “You want me to stay doll?” he asked.

You debated internally for a few moments. You knew that he should probably go, the thought of someone catching you in bed with your ex fiancés father, would cause many questions that you wanted to avoid, but when he looked at you with those eyes of his, you caved. How could you kick out the man who had just shattered your world in the space of a hour? “You can stay, I want a repeat performance in the morning.” You chuckled, wrapping yourselves within the sheets of the bed. “Really doll, he’s a fucking fool. His loss, my fucking gain.” He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, leaving small kisses on your forehead.

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