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yetanotherhiddlestoner · 6 months ago

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MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

(Gif is not mine, I found it on google.)

Word Count - 2593.

Warnings - Negan X FM Reader. P in V, alcohol mention, smut, swearing, vaginal licking, blow jobs. No beta reader, any mistakes are mine own.

Negan and you have been working together for a few years but what happens when one Friday night out changes all that.?

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You and Negan had been work mates for years, you started about 12 months after he did and bonded one night when you were invited to join the men and their wives for Friday night drinks and was able to outdrink the great Negan, earning your place in the friendship they had already established.

Another friday night has come around again and you went home and got ready for the weekly catch up, even though you worked with the men, it was the women you missed and loved catching up with. The moment you got there, you were basically dragged away from the group by them, having them a little tipsy already.

As the night progressed and the drinks kept coming, Dwight's wife, Sherry leaned over and whispered in your ear "Negan keeps staring at you" You almost spit your drink out at her, you look at her "What?" "Negan, he has been staring at you all night, since you arrived his eyes have barely looked elsewhere." "Bullshit" You turn a little, trying to remain casual, hoping that to him it looks like you're just repositioning yourself on your seat and you look at him, your eyes connecting. He gives you a smirk, you smile back.

"Holy shit I think I just saw sparks" Sherry says joking. You slap her arm gently and break eye contact. "He probably just watching over here in general making sure that we are not being hounded by unwanted men." "No honey, I think he is making sure no one hits on you." Sherry sips her drink and poke a finger into your chest. "Right ok, I think you should stop drinking; all that alcohol is going to your brain." Sherry laughs " Have your really been so oblivious? He likes you Y/N. Every time we drink, he always keeps his eye on you, he gets angry when men talk to you, one night he came to ours to sleep it off, Dwight says that he was saying your name in his sleep when he went downstairs during the night."

"Well then, if that is the case, let's test this theory" You smile at her, and she raises an eyebrow. You place your drink and walk over to Negan. "Hey" you say to him and sit down beside him. "You seem to be enjoying yourself." He says as he watches the men nod at each other and leave to go to dance with their wives, leaving you and him alone. You shrug "Could be better,I am actually thinking of picking up a guy tonight" You decide to watch Negan closely, waiting for a reaction. "Oh is that so, would be a first for you, anyone catch you eye?" Negan gruffs and he takes a sip of his gin. You take note that he didn't react as you thought so you decided to keep testing him, you look around and spot your "target", you nod over to the bar "He looks interesting and fun, he might be a good time if you get my drift." Negan follows your nod and spots the man, he was young, short black hair, wearing jeans and a jacket, casually leaning on the bar talking to what he assume is his friend. "You really think he is your type?" Negan looks at you raise an eyebrow at him.

"You think you know my type?" You say looking at him. Negan leans back, turning his body towards yours, his arm on top of the chair. "I actually think I do what type of man you like" You raise your eyebrow to him "Ok tell me all about MY type, I would love to hear it" you say.

Negan chuckles "You type is the bad boy type, the type that you wouldn't take home to your parents. You want the type of man who will listen to you, take care of you when you're down. Someone who will take time to spoil you both inside the bedroom and out, even dare say a dominant male, especially in the bedroom, you seem like the submissive type of woman" You can feel your cheeks heating up and you only hope that Negan won't notice your blushing.

"You just know that most women like bad boys, so that was a lucky guess." You smile as he leans closer to you. "And yet you didn't deny the other things I "assumed" about you." He shifts his hips closer to you. "You don't think I notice the way you look at me when we hang out and I'm fixing my bike, while you sit there and keep my company, I can feel your eyes on me." "Isn't that what I meant to do, look at you while we are talking? Thought it was what society calls polite" You say, a bit of smart ass coming out in your voice. "Yes but there have been times when your eyes have not been looking at my face" He looks down at himself and slowly back up. "I've caught you oogling me when I slide under my bike, when my t-shirt rides up enough to show skin" "And what about you Negan? Sherry said that you been watching me all night, and you do it every other time?" Negan laughs "Well then at least Sherry noticed." Negan's hand reaches out and gently caresses your cheek. You gulp, feeling like butterflies are fluttering inside you. "So she was right then?" "Right about what Y/N?" Negan moves closer, you look down at his lips, his tongue peeks out to wet his dry lips and it leaves you wanting him more. "That you get angry when men try and talk to me" "She is not wrong. You have no idea how much I have wanted to spank your barely covered ass and tell you to go change. I don't like when other men try and take what's mine" You stare into his haze eyes "Yours? I'm not yours Negan" His hand slithers its way into your hair, grabbing it tightly, jerking your head back a bit. "Yes, you are, you just don't know it yet."

Seconds pass and he growls, pulling your hair again, his lips crashing into yours, your arms instinctly wrapping around his neck, pulling him into you closer. Negan's other hand makes it way to your hip, without breaking the kiss his pulls you onto his lap. He releases your hair, but keeps his hand there, massaging the spot he had balled into a fist.

He growls as you shimmy down a bit, hitting his growing hard on. "Careful doll" You forgot that you were at a bar with your work mates who would be back any moment. You start to slide off Negan's lap when his hands stop you from. "Where do you think you're going?" His lips nibble at your neck, making you wiggle on his lap at the sensation. "Our friends will be back soon" You try to explain. "So what, you embarrassed to be seen on my lap?" He asks, his hips gripping your waist. "No no" You shake your head "Would rather be on your lap in private" You move closer to Negan's lips. "Oh, is that so, would private also mean, no clothing?" He smirks. "Maybe if you play your cards right." You wink at him. He gently smacks your ass. "Well then I am more than happy to get this show on the road Y/N" He goes to stand up carrying you. "You can't be serious, put me down" You smile.

"No way in hell took us too long to get to this point, I ain't letting you go now." He leans down to grab your wallet and phone and passes it to you. Your legs gripped tightly around his waist. The owner of the bar laughs as you walk out, your friends smile and give you a thumbs up, knowing full well that come Monday you're going to be the talk of the workplace. He gets to his car and opens the door; you slide down and hop in the passenger side of the car. Negan closes the door like a gentleman. He hops in the driver's side, puts the keys in the ignition and the car roars to life. The drive is silent, neither one wanting to break the spell that had come over you both in the bar. You could feel yourself wet, you rub your thighs together, you gasp as you feel a large hand grab your leg, stopping you. "Don't do that doll." Negan warns, his nails digging into your flesh. His eyes focused on the road, his hand slides up your leg, under your skirt, gently touching your clothed pussy lips. You moan just at the small sensation. His finger going up and down your lips, just teasing you enough to make you crave his touch deeper.

"Please" you whisper lifting your hips a bit. Negan chuckles " Needy little thing aren't you doll?" His hand pulls away and his hand goes back to the steering wheel, as he turns the corner to his house.

Negan gets out of the car first, rounding the back and opening the door for you, allowing you to get out of the car and he closes the door leading the way to the front door, you had been to Negan's house many times, but never like this before, it was different. He unlocks the door and lets you walk in first, you hear the door close behind you, you turn to his hand grabbing your shoulder and moves your back to the door, his lips on yours, kissing you deeply, you're thinking your lips might be bruised in the morning with the amount of pressure he is using but you don't care, his tongue pry's your lips opens and your tongues dances with his.

Negan moves from your lips to your cheek, then down to your neck as his fingers carefully undo the buttons on your top. Once it falls open, his hands are on your breasts, getting a gasp out of you as he pinches your hard nipples. His lips move down and take one hard nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, making you moan and arch your back begging for more.

Negan moves from one breast to the another, doing the same thing, your hand slides into his hair, gripping it harder, pulling him closer to your chest. You hear him moan and then feel the sensation of teeth nibbling your skin.

Negan pulls away just a little, his face moving closer to yours. "I might have been wrong about the submissive part of you doll." You chuckle a little "Maybe, but maybe it is cause we not in the bedroom." Negan smiles and takes your hand, leading you up to his room. Once inside he pushes you down on the bed, and crawls on top of you, covering you with his body.

"You look perfect on my bed, even if you are to overly dressed." He pushes your shirt off your shoulders, throwing in beside the bed, he sits back and undoes his shirt and throws it with yours, you reach for his jeans, unbuckling the belt in a haste. His hands work on pulling your skirt down along with your underwear, again tossing it to the side of the bed. You push his jeans down to his knees then he takes over, getting off the bed to discard them leaving you laying there on your elbows looking at him, marveling at his amazing body, the chiseled chest, his tattoos and slowly looking down to his happy trail that leads to his very hard cock, that makes you lick your lips and crawl over to the edge of the bed. Your hand reaches out and grasps him, making him growl deeply. His hips thrust a little making himself move in and out of your hand. You open your lips and engulf the tip of his cock, his hand finds itself tangled in your hair, as he thrusts himself more, your tongue swirling around his member. You hum as he pushes himself further into your mouth. "Doll" He growls, a warning. You look up at him, the tip of his cock just sitting between your lips. "Hmm" you hum. "As much as I am loving this lovely mouth wrapped around my cock I really wanna be inside you, fucking your tight pussy."

Negan pulls himself out of your lips, pushes you to the middle of the bed, your still on your stomach, the bed dips and he crawls over you, lifting your hips and ass up, you feel his fingers touch your pussy lips, "Fuck I have been waiting to see you in this position, wet and waiting for me." His finger just pushes past your lips, spreading you, then you suddenly feel his tongue, lapping at your juices, you moan when he swirls the tip of his tongue around your clit. "Fuck" You breathe out, he pulls you closer to his, his face right in between your pussy, licking, sucking, the noises that fill the air should embarrass you, not turn you on more. Negan eats you out until the first orgasm washes over you, your legs shake in pleasure. Negan licks up your juices before moving over you, his legs positioned between yours, you feel his cock laying on your ass as he leans over you, kissing your cheek. "Fuck doll you ready to cum all over my cock now, such a good girl you" You turn your head, and he kisses you, you taste yourself on his face. Negan grips his dick lining it up to your wet pussy. In one quick thrust his pushes his way into you, his balls slap against your skin and you moan in delight. "Doll, you have no idea how long I have dreamt of this moment, filling your tight cunt with my cock" He whispers in your ear, before pulling out and pushing back in fast, harder each time, getting a moan from both of you. Negan can't stop himself from pounding into you, his cock burying itself inside the tight warm walls over your pussy, the noises that you make each time he hit the spot is like music to his ears. Negan leans over your back, pushing your face deeper into the mattress, his arms on each side of your body, he drives himself deeper into you, he is close to cumming, "Negan please...." you moan out. "I'm gonna cum doll, where do you want it, inside you? on your back?" He grunts out "or do you wanna shallow?" You can barely answer, you so cock drunk of him "Inside, please Negan" you beg him. It doesn't take too long before Negan is pumping his seed inside you, grunting at his own release. You feel your own orgasm building and when you feel his hot cum inside you, you can't help but moan as you cum around his cock, milking him. Negan grunts as your cunt throbs around his slowly softening cock. Negan get off of you and rolls you into his body, you both lay there panting, coming down from the high that has been building for a couple years. "You do know now there is definitely not letting you go now." Negan says as his arm tightens around your stomach. "That is ok with me Negan." Negan chuckles and kisses your neck, thankful that finally after years of watching you from afar you were finally his.

#daddy negan #jdm #jeffery dean morgan #negan x reader #negan smut #negan smith #negan x y/n #the walking dead negan #negan fanfiction #twd negan #negan smith smut #negan smith x you

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all-that-is-gold-is-now-gone · 7 months ago

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@themuselesswriter

#twd #ftwd #the walking dead #fear the walking dead #dwight ftwd #dwight twd #negan smith #sherry ftwd #sherry twd #sherry and dwight #sherry campbell #dwight campbell #the smallest man who ever lived #ttpd

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xxgotthedevilinsidexx · 8 months ago

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【❖】 ―――― SHERRY STOOD THERE, HER HEART POUNDING IN HER CHEST AS NEGAN'S WORDS WASHED OVER HER LIKE A VIOLENT STORM. She knew all too well the possessive nature of her husband, his need to mark her as his own in every conceivable way. But there was a darkness in his eyes now that she hadn't seen before, a dangerous edge that sent shivers down her spine. Still yet her teeth clinched together at the mention of the other wives. That was a low blow because he knew damn well she didn’t like it, not in the least. Yet here they stood, what was good for the goose was not good for the gander. ❝ That's not fair and you know it. ❞ Nothing about any of this was fair.

AS NEGAN LEANED IN TO KISS HER, SHE FELT A WAVE OF CONFLICTING EMOTIONS CRASHING OVER HER. She loved him, there was no denying that, but she also hated him for making her feel this way about him. Taking a deep breath, Sherry met Negan's gaze with a mixture of defiance and�� submission. She knew she had to tread carefully, to soothe the beast that raged within him without sacrificing her own autonomy. ❝ I understand. ❞ she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. ❝ I won't talk to them again. ❞ She buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent mingled with leather and gunpowder. For all his faults and possessiveness, she knew that Negan loved her fiercely in his own twisted way. But sometimes love just wasn’t enough to make all the wrongs right. Deep down, a flicker of defiance simmered within her. She refused to be just another possession in his collection, a mere pawn in his game of control, because that's exactly how he makes her feel.

🧟 ―――― 𝙸𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝙴𝙲𝙰𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝙶𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙿𝚄𝚁𝙴𝙻𝚈 𝙹𝙴𝙰𝙻𝙾𝚄𝚂. he could never be jealous because there was nothing to be jealous of — especially when it came to dwight or daryl. sherry was his wife; he was the one that slept next to her, touched her, tasted her. they didn't, and they never could, so why would he be jealous of those sorry assholes? no, what negan's problem was that he possessed an overwhelming amount of possession and territorial feelings towards sherry. he hated the way some men would look at her when she would pass by in that slimming black dress she wore ( for him, for his eyes only ) or when they would attempt to flirt with her behind negan's back. he would always put a stop to that nonsense because no one else could ever deserve her presence or affection like he did. so, why would he ever be jealous to begin with? he won. he has the girl. sherry was his and his only.

𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙸𝙳𝙽'𝚃 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚁𝚈, 𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙴𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚂𝙾𝙵𝚃 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴. now he was in a bad mood, and no one ever liked when negan was in a bad mood. his lips pressed into a thin, frustrated line when those two names came out of her mouth. he swung his bat back onto his shoulder as he stared her down, towering over her with anger consuming his eyes, ❛ i am NOT the jealous type, sherry, don't get that fuckin' twisted. what the hell would i ever have to be jealous about those two sorry assholes ? i'm the one that gets to put my hands on you [ .... ] ❜ he responded, his free hand reaching out the grasp her chin gently, his thumb caressing her. a soft chuckle emits from his lips, ❛ yeah, i get worked up. i don't like when people look or touch my things. i'm sure you get a little fired up too when one of your sister wives touch me, don't deny it. i see the way you look at us when i kiss one of em' — ❜ he whispers to her, leaning down to ghost his lips over hers, ❛ don't worry, sweetheart, i'm always thinkin' about you [ .... ] ❜ he finishes, kissing her softly and sweetly, straightening his posture once again. ❛ don't fuckin' talk to them again. we're gunna have a problem, you and me, if you do and i don't want to be mad at you. i don't like bein' mad at you, darlin', and i certainly don't like upsetting you. ❜

#feartheliiving #C: Sherry #Feat: Sherry & Negan Smith #✷What A Wicked Game You Play To Make Me Feel This Way✷[feartheliiving]✷

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juuuulez · 9 months ago

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plsssssss do the oneshot with Carl and one of Negan’s wives i am on my hands and knees begging

info: Carl Grimes x Reader, minor Negan x Reader, you’re Negan’s wife, Carl is 18 and you are 19, canon episode: ‘Sing Me A Song’, NSFW, blowjob, cum eating, dom reader/sub Carl.

summary: Negan gives Carl a tour of the Sanctuary, where his youngest wife grows quite the interest for the boy.

WOOOWWWW you guys really wanted this so i delivered! beginning to think i have a real fascination with the idea of ownership/belonging to someone.. not even necessarily in a sexual way (however yes!) considering there are themes of this in a few of my fics now LOL

“You’re gonna want to look at their titties. It’s cool. I won’t mind. They won’t mind. Knock yourself out.”

You watch as the boy looks down, averting both the eyes of Negan and everyone else in the room. It can be intimidating, you suppose, considering the parlour appears to be a scene ripped straight out of Playboy magazine.

6 women, all clad in the barest-minimum of fabric that can be classed as a dress. Skimpy black numbers, designed to cling to every curve and divot. Negan saunters away, leaving the boy to his own devices, discussing something private with Sherry.

You’re posed over one of the long leather couches, resting your head over the arm. It’s not uncommon for Negan to bring others into the parlour, usually as some sort of twisted power-play, though this is different. It seems almost torturous, to place a boy in this situation, and you fear he’ll combust on the spot out of embarrassment.

Negan passes once more, manoeuvring the boy’s hand upwards to clutch his beer. This is it. As your husband turns his back, you can strike.

“Psst.”

After catching his attention, you wave the boy over, who appears to grow increasingly nervous at the proposal. His gaze flickers back over to Negan, then to the other girls in the room. You know that Sherry must be watching you with a look of disapproval.

Nonetheless, he obeys, filling your chest with a sick sense of excitement. You lean forward over the edge of the couch, and when he’s within arms-reach, you snatch the cold beer from his grip.

Taking a generous swig, you size him up in a less than subtle manner. He isn’t exactly very tall, and his clothes are all dusty. But there’s something enticing about that stoic look on his face, trying to seem confident, assured.

“What’s your name?” You ask, though it comes out more like a demand. You’ve always been rather blunt, not willing to beat around the bush, especially when you want something.

He looks back over to Negan, then to the floor, as if he’s reluctant to meet your gaze. “Carl.” The boy answers.

You nod, taking another deep sip from the beer before quirking your head. “Grimes?”

Carl doesn’t answer right away, his jaw clenching and eyes narrowing into something close to a glare. It provides all the answer you need, a wide grin on your face.

“We learn a lot during pillowtalk.” You justify, a statement that only serves to make Carl more uncomfortable. How proudly you boast we only implies you’re more than comfortable living amongst 6 other women, which makes his gut twist in confusion.

Like a cat with a mouse, you continue to toy with him. “Drink much?” You ask him, offering the bottle forward.

Carl can’t help but feel this is all some sort of trick. That he’ll slip up, do or say the wrong thing, and be scolded for it. After all, you’re only an extension of Negan, so he tries to be wary.

Despite shaking his head, he accepts the bottle anyway, holding it awkwardly in his palm. Your gaze is expectant, unwavering, almost to the point of being unsettling. Yet, Carl doesn’t falter, and he doesn’t dare drink the beer.

“Good boy.” You quip, shuffling to kneel up on the couch. Even in this position, he’s a good head taller than you.

You take the bottle back, to which Carl feels a minor bout of relief. Taking another sip, you continue to shamelessly inspect him. “You shoot that gun?”

Carl manages to nod, attempting to look anywhere but directly at your chest, which is temptingly presented to him. “Maybe.” He confirms.

“Sounded like a machine gun.” You point out instantly, not allowing a single lull in the conversation.

Biting down on his lip, Carl nods again. “You’d be correct.”

With his cooperation, you smile widely, wanting to see how much further you could string this along. “Do I make you nervous?” You ask in an innocent tone, though Carl knows it’s anything but.

When he answers, he isn’t looking at you. His gaze is up, a little to the right. “No.” Carl says rather quickly.

You take another swig from the bottle, before it’s lifted up and out of your hands. A noise of protest builds in the back of your throat, before Negan’s large hand cups over your neck, guiding your head to look at him.

“Stealing from me?” He accuses, a wicked grin on his lips as he keeps the beer just out of reach. You lick the remaining residue from your bottom lip, sinking back down to sit on the couch rather than kneel.

“No, sir,” You reply in that equally sweet tone. “Just getting acquainted with my new friend.”

Carl steels his gaze at Negan, refusing to look down at your obedient form. He catches another woman watching them, seemingly disapproving of your attitude.

“Of course you are, sweetheart.” Negan drawls, sweeping his thumb over your cheek.

There’s an anxious feeling settled into Carl’s nerves, unsure whether or not he’s even allowed to be speaking with this girl. But you’d called him over, after all. In a way, he was just following orders.

Whatever mental debate was stirring didn’t matter, for the door to the parlour opened once more, with Dwight leading a beat-up looking Daryl. It stole Carl’s attention away, focused on the growing tension in the room.

Knowing your little game was over, you retreat further into the room, fishing out a cold wine bottle to replace the confiscated beer. You don’t bother listening to their conversation, though as Negan leads Carl away, your gaze remains trained on his retreating figure.

The sparkling liquid sloshes into the glass, foaming up against the sides. You raise it, taking a swift sip, savouring the pungent taste. As you do, Carl takes one more glance into the room, a grin growing on your features as you lock eyes.

Now, you knew very well that cheating was forbidden. It’s what had Amber in such a tizzy, still crying softly over on one of the couches. This was going to be a hard play, but you were always one for a challenge.

You also always got what you wanted.

So, you begged Negan to take you to Alexandria. He immediately said no, of course, yet thankfully you’d been strategic about it. You wore a tiny black nightgown, and with the absence of heels, you leant on your tippy toes in order to press a kiss to his cheek with a long-winded pleeaassseee.

It worked.

What better way to consolidate power than with some arm-candy, Negan would later justify.

You were amazed to discover just how big Alexandria really was. The Sanctuary was sort of a massive factory, after all, but this place looked like a regular neighbourhood. Negan claimed he needed to settle business elsewhere, so he left you with a kiss, and you were permitted to explore.

Of course, you had a specific task to attend to. A need that required fulfilling. Maybe you just liked the challenge, wanting to push that boundary, see if you could really do it.

Though you greatly enjoyed being taken care of, not having to lift a finger at the Sanctuary, you missed that control you’d relented in favour of protection. Before meeting Negan, you’d been fairly well-off, and knew how to manipulate a situation in your favour.

Or, a person. Need be.

“We meet again, cowboy.”

Your pleasant chirp and upturned smile catches Carl off guard, who’d been carrying out a menial maintenance task towards the back of Alexandria. It was a secluded area, private, which immediately put him on edge.

“You’re here with Negan?” He asks, obviously sceptical. There’s a small box of nails in his hands, as it appears he’d been repairing a hole in the fence. Or, trying to, at least, given he’d made little to no progress so far.

You aren’t offended by his hesitance, knowing your presence can be intimidating. As usual, you wore a lacy black dress that left little to the imagination, dipping low in the front and ending around mid-thigh. “Of course.” You confirmed shamelessly.

Only to be met with silence, you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, I’m not his dog. He isn’t around.” You assured Carl, trying to get the boy to loosen up a little.

It seemed to have the intended effect, as he put down the supplies he was working with, offering his full attention. There was a critical look on his face, something near judgemental, which lit a fire in your belly.

“Why are you with him?” Carl asked, finally inquiring into what’s been playing on his mind.

You raise a brow, biting at the bait. “Why not?”

His expression twists once more, a molten well of determination in his veins. “Are you serious?” Carl urged, not understanding how you’d be so.. complacent. “I mean, you’re, what? 20?”

“19.” You corrected with a sly smile, the word uttered with an inkling of pride, as if it was something to brag about. Only 19, and you’d acquired a husband who’d give you anything.

But you, somehow, still wanted more.

Shaking his head, Carl echoed your sentiment. “19.” He sounded disapproving, critical of your position. Maybe it was a tone intended to make you back off, but it had the opposite effect, as you found that you wanted him more.

It looked like he was about to say something else, further comment on the situation. So you stepped forward, intruding on his personal space. His brows furrowed, confused, as he backed a little further into the fence.

“What-..” He begun talking, though was quickly quelled by your finger, tapping gently over his lips. Each nail was perfectly manicured, painted a soft pink colour, drawing his eyes downwards to the appendage.

You looked up slightly to meet his gaze, though thankfully the heels gave you some leverage. “Are you not into me, or something?” You asked, the words tainted with feigned sadness.

It elicited the intended reaction, for Carl shook his head almost immediately, words coming out hurried and confused. “What? No. You’re… beautiful, obviously.”

The smile returned within an instant, a sly grin that manifested much too quick for the previous emotion to be genuine. Carl was beginning to catch on, starting to understand that you had a better hold on his feelings than he did.

It was like playing with a Venus flytrap. You were a minx, a siren. Each word was sticky, coated in a honey-like sweetness that caused him to fold, bending to your every desire.

Instead of answering verbally, you slid to your knees, finding purchase in the gravelly earth. Soft skin became slightly dirtied, though you paid no mind to it, gaze still firmly locked on Carl.

He swallowed, hard, appearing in slight disbelief. Those manicured fingernails gently scraped the fabric of his flannel, trailing down, down, to the denim of his jeans.

“This is.. we shouldn’t do this,” Carl whispered, sounding both breathless and slightly panicked. “You shouldn’t do this.”

“But you want it.” You interjected, and as if to make a point, traced a pointed fingernail over the crotch of his jeans. They were slightly tented, causing Carl’s face to flush with embarrassment, looking towards the sky to avoid gazing directly down the exposed portion of your chest.

Fostering his attention back, you gave a chaste pinch to his side, causing Carl to yelp and look back down at you. His silence caused you to grow stern, that soft allure gone, replaced by an air of dominance. “Say it. Say you want it.” You commanded.

As if on command, Carl was nodding, forcing the words from his throat. “I do.”

“Really?” You inquired, stretching out the tension, which only ebbed on the throbbing feeling in Carl’s pants. It had been hard enough to remain composed in front of Negan, but without the looming threat, his mind found that it wanted you more than he’d like to admit.

“Yes. Please, I want you.” He finally uttered, those few words delivered in a tone of desperation, laced with a hint of shame. This was wrong. So wrong.

The smile returned once more, conforming back to that sweet, soft look. You appeared proud, content, happy to have gotten your way. “Good boy.” You cooed, and in that instance, Carl believed it was all worth it.

You finally worked at his jeans, unbuttoning the fly and slowly pulling the zipper down. Despite being near the back fence of Alexandria, anyone could walk past, which added to your excitement and Carl’s anxiety.

Fisting him in your hand, you licked your lips, savouring the way his breath would hitch. His cock was hard in your palm, the tip red and strained from all the teasing. It was slender, curved slightly, and you wondered how it would feel in your throat.

“Did you like the dress?” You asked him, hot breath hitting his exposed cock as you spoke, “I wore it for you.”

Carl’s gaze was drawn down, back to the exposed cleavage in the silky black dress. He found himself nodding, having to force the words out, still in somewhat of a state of disbelief.

“Yes, I did,” He replied, voice cracking as your palm tightened its hold. “I do.”

Finally, finally, you poked your tongue out, flattening it to lick a generous strip from base to tip. You swirled it around the top, collecting the salty precum, before suctioning your lips onto his heated member.

Trying not to make too much noise, Carl’s hands fumbled, holding onto the fence behind him. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, barely holding in a ragged moan as you slide down his clock, wet mouth enveloping him to the hilt. It was no surprise you were this good.

You looked up at him, lashes slightly wet with the stretch, as you held your place. One hand rested over his hip, whilst the other reached out to take Carl’s hand in your own, leading it to the back of your head.

He was nervous, clearly, trying not to hurt you. But then you swallowed around him, tight throat restricting, allowing him to feel every ridge, and Carl couldn’t help himself. His hips nudged forward, shallowly thrusting deeper into your channel, with a stuttered gasp.

Encouraging the movement, you dipped your head back for air, before swallowing him whole once again. Carl seemed to get the message, his hand gently fisting your hair, as he worked up a steady motion that allowed him to fuck into your throat.

The pressure of a tight, wet heat was unlike anything he’d had before, and Carl found himself unable to be silent. His moans were quiet and breathy, moving up a pitch whenever you swirled your tongue around the tip on the up-stroke.

You reached up, forcing your palm over his mouth, trying to keep him from making too much noise. It serves to muffle the sound, along with enhancing that arousing feeling of control, revelling in the fact that he’s at your mercy.

Feeling him twitch in your throat, you pull away. It elicits a whine from Carl, strung out and desperate to have you in any way possible. Keeping him at that edge, you build up firm strokes over his cock, now slick with your saliva, as you hurriedly pull down the bust of your dress.

It exposes your breasts to the cool air, giving a firm yank on your bra to free them. The sight causes Carl to gasp, squirming in your hold as you tighten your fist, finally milking sticky strings of cum that land right on your skin, spilling all over your tits.

With practised motions, you slow down, not wanting to overstimulate the boy. His head falls back, leaning against the fence, trying to catch his breath. You shake your hand out, relieving it of the slight cramp from how dedicated you’d jerked him off.

As planned, your breasts were coated in his release, though luckily it hadn’t soiled your dress nor bra.

You brush the dirt from your knees as you stand, finding them to be slightly scraped due to the gravel. Carl’s attention falls on you once more, after he’s readjusted his jeans, rendered speechless by your appearance.

The silence fills the space between you, though you have an expectant look on your face, once Carl doesn’t quite understand. A raised brow, you glance down to your chest, before back up at him.

“Gonna clean up your mess?” You ask him.

He blinks once, twice, before catching on. “You mean… with a towel?”

You purse your lips, a manicured finger swiping across the swell of your breast. It picks up a glob of cum, pearly white on the tip, which you deposited into your mouth.

Carl seems to get the hint, a nervous look on his face. He’s never… eaten his own cum before, the idea making his face scrunch up in mild disgust, though you seem to do it effortlessly. His hands settle on your hips, hesitantly, still standing there in consideration.

“Unless you want Negan to see?” You prompt once more, the vague threat working to kick him into gear, understanding the severity of the situation.

It was his mess, after all.

His head dips down, licking a tentative stripe over your exposed breast. The taste is unique, salty and distinct, though not exactly unpleasant. Carl tightens his grip on your waist, as you gently thread a hand through his hair, guiding his face as he cleans you up.

The action has your nipples hardening, a tingly sensation growing between your thighs, though you’d wait until later to satisfy yourself. When he pulls up, there’s a smug look on your face, gleaming with pride.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You whisper, leaning close to deposit a grateful kiss over Carl’s lips, tasting him on his tongue once more.

His face is red, flustered and slightly embarrassed over what you’d made him do. You tug your bra back into place, along with adjusting the hem of your dress, smoothing it down to reestablish that perfect appearance.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” You announce, giving the boy a small wink before prancing back into Alexandria’s centre. There’s a breathless stammer behind you, though you pay it no mind, willing to let Carl simmer in his feelings before your eventual return.

Of course, you managed to clean up a little more before reuniting with Negan, who was speaking to a Saviour at the front gate. He greeted you with a chaste kiss to the cheek, arm wrapping around your waist.

“What happened to your knees, baby?” He rumbled, concern furrowing in over his brow.

You looked down, noticing how they were slightly scraped. “Heels on gravel.” You shrug, offering it as a minute explanation, though of course, it’s far from the truth.

For now, Carl would remain your little secret.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #twd x you #carl grimes #carl grimes x you #negan smith x reader #the walking dead #negan smith

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sunnybunnyy2 · 1 year ago

Text

Father Knows Best

Daryl Dixon x platonic!reader

Negan Smith x daughter!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

TIME: season 7

Warnings: imprisonment, swearing, mentions of Daryl’s abuse, mentions of savours, transpires in season seven, spoilers for season seven of the walking dead, possible typos and bad writing

CHAPTER 3 to the Dark Cell Series

Not much Daryl in this one, sadly, but he will be in it much more next chapter!

Series Masterlist Official Masterlist

This one came out way quicker than the second and I’m sorry for that, but I am beginning to get into a regular posting times! So here it is!!

Your eyes were forced open when you heard the loud pounding of a fist consistently colliding against your door.

You let out a groan as your senses began to kick in, the once blackness that you were seeing behind your eyelids was replaced with the bright light that shined through the window that was meant to be covered by your curtain but you had been growing even more tired since your visits with Daryl.

It had made sense. Normally you would be asleep before the second night shift, so around 11 pm, but now you couldn't fall asleep until around 3 am, sometimes even 4.

That paired with the times that you had to wake up each morning had given you a maximum of four hours a night. Then you had to work all day and repeat the cycle again and again.

You couldn't risk falling asleep before you met Daryl, knowing that he would starve that night, and that thought alone kept your mind racing all day.

You constantly wondered how he was doing at the hands of your father. You wondered if he was being beaten, even if the old bruises on his face had started to fade you knew it wasn't long until they would reappear again.

You wondered what else Dwight was forcing him to do. You couldn't really put anything past him.

You used to admire how kind he was to others and how kindly he would treat his wife, Sherry, and her sister, Tina. But ever since Tina had been killed when they had escaped the sanctuary over a month ago and he had faced the wrath of her father, he hadn't been the same.

You knew it was because of his wife. Sherry had offered to become your father's wife to spare Dwight's life.

You didn't agree with your father having multiple wives especially so soon after your mother's death. It had been just over two years and he was pretending she didn't exist. He was coercing women into being his wife, in hopes of filling the dark that was left after your mother had taken her own life.

You could see how their presence in his life wasn't providing in the way he had hoped it would. You could see it in his eyes.

He was miserable. So he was bringing pain onto other people to make himself feel better. You didn't agree with his ways of coping but it's not like you could change his mind. He was a grown man and could certainly make his own choices.

He knew where you stood and what he chose to do with that was up to him, you supposed. He knew you weren't a fan of his 'marital' status so he kept it as far away from you as possible. Making sure that he never showed affection to them around you, making sure they stayed out of your way. But that wasn't the issue. You did like his wives, they were kind to you. Always making sure you were okay. Never talking about your father around you.

You had felt like his wives were a majority of your closest friends. When you pushed back the fact that they were sleeping with your father.

You tugged the sheets off of your body roughly as you jumped to your feet after realizing that the knocking wasn't getting any quieter.

You pulled your shirt down from where it had been yanked up in your sleep from your turning as you walked towards the door before jerking it open, causing the knocker to stumble slightly as they fell forward, making it clear that they were leaning against the door as they waited for a response.

"Jesus," she spoke your name as she caught herself from falling to the hard ground. "Your dad wants you. Said you had something you wanted to talk to him about." Laura informed you as she looked at you with a blank face but you knew her facial features well enough from the two years you had known her to tell that she was confused about what you had to talk to your father about. You had always confided in her about the way you felt about your father.

The disappointment and frustration but also about how you missed the old times between your family. About how you missed your old father and how you missed the comfort your mother had brought you before she died.

She had also spoken about how she missed her parents as well and even though her situation wasn't remotely the same, she still understood what it felt like to be a younger girl who just wanted her parent's love and affection.

"Yeah, yeah...um where is he?" You asked as you ran a hand through your hair in an attempt to smooth out some of the tangles.

"In his room. You better get ready, he ain't got all day." Laura sent a nod your way before sending you a half smile, clearly as tired as you as she was sent to do more work around the sanctuary. She never seemed to have time to rest. She was constantly either at Negan's aid or on watch somewhere around the sanctuary.

"Sir, yes sir." You saluted.

"You wish I was a sir?" She asked with raised eyebrows.

"Nah, you're just fine to look at now." You smiled slyly.

"Jesus, you're just like your father." She shook her head with a smirk.

"Damn, Laura. You wound me. Seriously that was so hurtful." You half-joked as you wiped away imaginary tears as you turned your head away from her.

"I take that back, you're way better." She shrugged as she spoke the truth that everyone at the sanctuary thought. Though you had always assumed some of the saviours had befriended you because of Negan wasn't entirely true. Sure some did in hopes of earning extra points for themselves and their families, but most just genuinely thought that you were one of the good ones. That you could possibly be able to persuade your father to change his ways.

"Alright. I forgive you, Laur. Even if you started my day off with a fucking headache." You spoke as you rubbed your temple, your words earning a very 'unladylike' snort from Laura as she started to back away from your room and down the hallway.

"My pleasure, Miss. Smith." She saluted before she turned around and quickened her pace to her shift which she was surely late from, leaving you to stare at the hallway wall as you mentally prepared yourself for the conversation you were about to have with your father, knowing it could go two ways. Well, which was the unlikely scenario or, Awful which you were leaning towards.

And that's how you ended up here. Sat at the table with your father as he settled in his seat after having poured himself a small glass of bourbon.

You watched as Potter, a worker in the sanctuary, placed two plates of eggs, home fries and some ham on top of the table for you two. You sent a smile his way as he nodded at you and your father before turning to make his exit, but your father's voice stopped him.

"Oh, Mr. Potter..." Your father spoke in a sing-song voice as tapped his fork on the table.

"Yes, Negan?" He asked as he turned back to the pair of you. A trail of sweat hastily coming down his brow, as his anxious eyes flicked between you and your father in hopes of getting a read on your body language.

"I think you forgot something." He pointed to his empty cup of water before snapping his fingers as if the second after he spoke lasted an hour. "Today." He rolled his eyes as the man rushed over to pick up the pitcher of water and pour it into his cup.

"Would you like some as well, ?" He spoke your name as he turned to look at you. Your father's glass now filled with ice water.

"Of course, she wants some. What do you think, she wants to eat your dry ass food without having something to wash it down with." Your father let out a laugh as if it was the funniest thing in the world all while glaring the poor man down, who was practically shaking in his boots.

"No thank you, Potter." You managed to smile softly at him as if to calm him. Your body lowered down slightly as your body inadvertent shrank into yourself in embarrassment at how your father was treating the kind man.

Your demeanour didn't seem to put the man at ease as he still looked as though he was about to stroke out, which apparently was hilarious to your father as he let out a booming chuckle from deep in his throat, his rough and deep voice spoke from behind his pearly white teeth.

"Jesus, man. I'm just joking. It's just a jokey, joke. Holy fuck," he spoke your name, "did you see his fucking face? He looked like he was going to piss his pants." He laughed before looking at the floor as though he was looking to see if the older man had done just that.

"That will be all, Potter. Thank you." You looked away from your father to face the middle-aged man before nodding to the door, not quite able to hide your anger well, causing him to look to Negan for permission.

Your father watched you with amusement glimmering in his big brown eyes, clearly finding your annoyance entertaining, before he nodded, still looking at you as he spoke. "Do you need her to tell you again? Leave. Now." Without wasting a second he scurried out of the room, probably to go cry in the corner somewhere. Your father seemed to always have that effect on people.

"Did you really have to scare him away? I was gonna get him to cut up my meat." He laughed.

"You're a grown-ass man. I think you can do it yourself just fine." You narrowed your eyes at him, watching as his eyes widened slightly before they were amused again, a small laugh leaving his lips.

"You really are my kid, ain't ya."

You guys sat in silence for a minute. You glaring at him and him trying to hide the merriment in his eyes.

"If you've got something to say, baby, just spit it out." He said as he crossed his arms while leaning back in his seat, eyes studying your face.

"What is wrong with you?" You asked with anger clear in your voice as you shook your head.

"Well, sweetheart, I have a lot of things wrong with me so you're gonna have to be more specific."

"You know what I'm talking about, Dad. That. How you treat people." You scoffed at his attempt at humour, normally you would laugh at his stupid attempts at making you laugh but now, when he humiliated people for a good laugh, your blood would quite literally boil in your skin.

"I was just having a little fun. He doesn't mind." He dismissed as he laughed, shaking his head before he began using the fork he was still gripping to take a substantial bite of his over-easy eggs.

"It's not a 'little fun', Dad. You scared him half to death. Does it not make you feel bad when you treat people like shit?" You shook your head in disbelief.

"No, it doesn't. I'm in charge. Im not treating anyone like shit here. Do you see all that I do for these people? What I provide for them." His face grew annoyed at your words.

"Yeah, Dad. I do. But you can help keep these people safe without treating them like shit. You don't need to make them fear you to keep them sa-" He cut you off before you could finish your sentence but you could tell by his tone that you got your point across.

"They need to fear me to stay in line. That's what I do. I keep them in line. How else do you think we're still standing? If I become buddy, buddy with them they'll think they can get away with shit they just can't get away with."

"You can be a decent person and still have loyal followers. I mean, shit, how do you think half the groups still alive are operating?" You tried to mile your tone down as you began cutting up your ham.

"You mean the groups we're gonna take over? They won't be operating like that for long." He shook his head in dismissal before wiping away the yellow egg yolk that had dropped into his pink lips.

"But why can't you form alliances with other groups? Instead of controlling them?" You tried to reason.

"Look, hunny. I love you, okay? But I don't tell you how to lead your little posey so don't fucking tell me how to lead mine." He said angrily before taking hold of his glass of bourbon and gulping down all of its contents.

"You do realize you just called you and your people pretentious, right? I do think it fits, though." You snorted as you took a small bite of your scrambled eggs.

"What did you want to talk to me about? I have things I need to get done." He rubbed a hand over his face in annoyance.

"Oh sorry, I didn't know having a conversation with your daughter was such a burden." You shook your head as you began to stand up but we're stopped when your father grabbed your arm.

You looked over expecting to see a look of anger on your father's face but sat back down when all you saw was remorse for his words that were obviously taken out of context but they had hurt you nonetheless, as that was what he hated the most. Hurting you.

"You know what I meant. I love talking to you, you know that, don't act like you don't. Tell me what you want to talk about, baby. Please." He pulled his and away and picked up his fork, signalling for you to speak.

"What is that community called?" You asked as you picked up the pitcher of water, not missing the look your father sent you that practically said, 'You should have just gotten Potter to do that' but you just brushed it off, knowing you were more than capable of pouring your own cup of water.

"Who am I? Fucking Professor X? You're going to have to be more-"

"That new community. The one you took a prisoner from." You specified, know that was his next word.

"How the hell do you know about that?" He asked with slight anger. He had tried to keep you as far away from his duties as much as he possibly could.

He had constantly restricted you from leaving the sanctuary in hopes of keeping you alive and blissfully unaware of his actions, knowing that he had shaped his men well enough that they knew they needed to die for you.

"Everyone knows about it. You don't exactly keep it under wraps. I can hear you boost about it from my room. Your voice travels." You studied him, wanting to make sure he wasn't going to try and keep something from you.

"Huh, so I've been told." He shrugged as he then began to study you, checking to see if he could notice any alternative motives. You could only hope he didn't.

"So?"

"Why do you wanna know anyway?" He questioned.

"I'm just curious. Sick of the gossip and rumours, just want to know what's going on. That's all." You attempted to play it off, hoping he didn't notice the slight quiver in your voice.

"I hate gossipers too. They seem to be everywhere, don't they." He replied as he squirted some ketchup onto his cooling grilled potatoes.

"Yeah, they do... so...?" You pressed, hoping he would stop beating around the bush and just reveal what you were wanting to know.

"Alexandria. It's a nice place but the people make it a fucking shit hole, their leader, Rick, is a joke. A fucking pussy if I've ever known one. Hell, I bet Potter could take him in a fight. Truly it's embarrassing." He ranted as he rolled his eyes, his fork scraping against his plate as if the sheer thought of Daryl's leader, Rick, had brought him so much rage that he had to take it out on the plate.

"So is there a lot of people there?" You asked, trying to sound casual.

"Two-hundred and thirty-four." He revealed causing her to tense.

"So we have more." It was a statement rather than a question.

"By a landslide, baby. We have five hundred and four through all of our outposts. In any way, we outrank them. You know what's hilarious? Their leader is so hellbent on killing me even though he knows my people could wipe his people out in a blink of an eye. Everything with that guy is a dick-measuring contest. But he should know by now that he's not gonna win in that department." He laughed once again forgetting that his daughter was sitting across from him.

Your eyes rolled as he once again found a way to boost about himself.

"Jesus, your daughter is right here!" You exclaimed as you rolled your eyes. Sometimes he was such a child, you thought. If your mother was here she would beat him with her shoe.

"Sorry, sorry. But hey, I want to show you something." He said as he wiped his mouth with a cotton napkin, before placing it on top of his now empty plate, the streaks of ketchup and yellow remained.

Your food on the other hand was still half full, but you knew your father would have somebody wrap it up for you to eat tomorrow as he knew that it took you at least an hour after waking up to be able to eat.

As you guys walked you caught sight of a man with long dark hair and a broad frame hunched over a mop. You didn't clue in until you saw Dwight roughly grab the man to make him continue his moping a little way ahead.

It was Daryl.

You didn't have much time to react before your father was speaking again, drawing their attention.

"Dwighty boy, what do we have here?" Your father said as he stopped beside Dwight, smirking down at Daryl as he watched him silently continue his task, his head angled downward.

"Just Daryl, doing what he's told," Dwight spoke with a slight smile while watching Daryl.

Your father let out a booming laugh and you could see Daryl pause his movements for a moment having to mentally restrain himself from physically pouncing on him.

You knew if he were to break loose you couldn't really blame him. Your father had put him through hell, but that's what he was. Your father. You couldn't let anything thing happen to him, no matter how much you understood how he was feeling.

"You missed a spot." Your father said as he watched the slightly shorter man conceal his anger with delight, clearly enjoying the inner battle that was going on inside of him. Your father kept his eyes on Daryl as he tipped his bourbon bottle on the floor, the dark liquor mashed with the newly clean floor. The half-drunken bottle now sized down a noticeable amount, he laughed again before he shoved the bottle into Dwight's chest. "Here, buddy. You deserve it." Your father tore his eyes away from Daryl before looking up at you, noticing the beyond-dirty look you were sending his way.

"Thanks, boss." Dwight nodded as he clutched the bottle.

"Get back to work, you mutt." Your father smiled at Daryl but you could tell it was forced as he roughly patted his shoulder in a condescending way before making his way back over to you, sensing your unease about what he was doing.

He nodded at you to follow him before he began to stroll back down the hallway. You followed but your eyes were still trained on Daryl.

Your heart pounded in your chest when he turned his head slightly, watching Negan go before his eyes found you.

They narrowed once he caught sight of you. You couldn't quite read the look that took over his emotionless face but you knew he didn't feel joy in seeing you with Negan.

You saw flashes of rage, confusion and a flash of fear?

Your eyes were locked on each other before Dwight harshly shoved Daryl back to his task which he complied with but at a slower pace, as if his mind was processing the fact that he had seen you outside of his cell with Negan of all people.

You waited a moment before you turned back around, and in that moment you saw Dwight studying the two of you in confusion.

You hurriedly turned forward to look at your father's back as you turned the corner finally making your way into the kitchen. The one you had found yourself in more often than ever.

"Ta-da," your father said in an overdramatic voice, a wide smile on his face as he waved a hand towards a big a machine that was shaking as it operated, the small, shiny window was wet with condensation.

"Holy-shit! Is that what I think it is?" You exclaimed in an excited tone as you practically hopped over to the machine in pure astonishment.

"Well, I sure as shit hope I didn't have seven of my men working themselves into the ground carrying this piece of shit back here all for it not to be the fucking ice cream machine that I've been askin' for, for a fuckin' year?" He spoke as you leaned back slightly as if to amplify his words.

You let out a yell of excitement as you ran into your father's arms, his arms wrapping around your upper back as you tucked your head into his chest. You could feel his smile as he rested his forehead on top of your scalp.

It was moments like these that you missed. The pure moments of a father and daughter showing care for one another. Sure you were still angry with him for what he did to Daryl just minutes ago and for all the bad he was doing, but you couldn't spoil this moment.

The moment that your inner child craved to have.

The moment you were robbed of one too many times.

You wondered if the sadness could be shown in your eyes. The longing for the love of your parents.

You knew that Laura could see it. Just as you could see your sadness as well. It was like an understanding for the two of you. You both didn't get to experience much love from your parents, her from way before the outbreak and you, after.

You knew that your mother wasn't at fault for not being there for you. You knew that if she could be here, she would. That's just who she was. She would never miss any of your important achievements and even your minor ones, she always made sure to show up, no matter how much shit she would get at work. She would take all the yelling from her boss just to see your smile when you noticed she was there.

Your father tried his hardest to be there but most of the time something else was always more important. You were always left having to deal with his half-ass excuses as to why he couldn't show up; only to find out that he was too busy fucking your godmother aka your mother's best friend.

You weren't sure how your mother could forgive him after all the stress he had caused her in the early stages of her cancer, but you knew it was most likely because of how much she loved him.

You had never quite seen someone treat their significant other as well as your father did when he found out about your mother's diagnosis.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You chanted pulling away from your father to look at the grey and blue machine again causing your father to laugh at you, even though he was feeling elated at the fact that you had enjoyed his little present.

"So, you want to take it for a spin?" Negan asked with a grin, knowing that he was gonna get a taste of the treat that he had also been craving.

"Do Andie and Ben end up together in 'How to lose a guy in 10 days?' " You asked with a raised eyebrow, a smile on your face.

"Uh, I don't know, do they?" He asked in confusion, not quite realizing the reference.

"Yes!" You exclaimed before rushing to the ice cream machine, your father hot on your tail.

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#the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon x platonic!reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #negan smith x daughter!reader #dark cell series #dark cell masterlist

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