The End Will Justify It All - Chapter 5
The End Will Justify It All - Chapter 5
A Negan Series
Chapter 4 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 1
Warnings: adult themes, adult language, rough/slightly violent smut (18+ only)
A/n - my husband got a new video game so my Friday night was wide open to work on this. It's my favorite in the series so far, and I apologize for how long it is. Feedback is welcome! And a quick inspo credit to @green-eyedladywrites - she reblogged this photo of a statue in a sex museum in Korea several weeks ago, which stuck in my brain and brought about this sex scene. I hope you all enjoy! (ps - I was having major keyboard glitches so if there are bad typos I'm sorry!)
Being part of a Savior crew seemed to come naturally to her. It wasn’t a surprise; she’d been part of groups like these before. She’d learned how to work them to her advantage many times over. Simon started her as a grunt, sending her on the errands and tasks no one else really cared to do, but she didn’t mind. Every task gave her more information about the place, another advantage in her planning.
One of the tasks she was assigned was to check on Dwight’s guard team. Dwight and a couple of his guys took shifts guarding Daryl’s cell door or taking him out for his work with the walkers at the gate. She would check in with them a few times a day, bring them meals when they were on duty, and occasionally kept them company for a while. She cherished this task, the chance to be so close to Daryl. She had to force herself not to pay him any attention, but she stole as many glances as she could when his guards weren’t looking.
All the guys in the crew took to her quickly. They began including her in jokes, games, often inviting her for drinks after their shifts. Simon especially seemed to enjoy her company. They soon had a rapport full of banter and laughs. It didn’t take long for her to move out of grunt work, although she suspected being a wife helped her rise in rank, too. No one wanted to be the one sending Negan’s wife on dumb errands and risk his anger. As her status on the crew rose, Simon began asking her advice. Much like Negan with Rick’s group, he was looking for the best ways to exploit the weaknesses of leaders of the communities he collected from. It was unsettling to her how good she was at it. She had always been good at reading people. She’d used that in the past to survive, but this was different. This was no longer survival, this was… dominance. She couldn’t deny there was a part of her that found naming a stranger’s weakness and using it to get what the Saviors wanted somewhat thrilling. The more Simon asked that of her, the better she got at it. It became a point of pride for her amongst the crew. After a few successful runs, Simon started asking her to stay behind. They would spend hours debriefing or discussing the next run, sometimes over drinks.
It was during one of these after collection debriefs with Simon that she noticed a shift in him. She was sitting on the edge of the back of a refrigerated truck where Simon was leaning against it right beside her. They were laughing about one guy that wet his pants when she had gotten in his face, whatever threat she made hitting the nail on the head.
Suddenly Simon wasn’t laughing, he was staring at her. An intense look in his eye, like he’d just seen her for the first time. She squirmed shyly and nudged his arm gently with her shoulder.
“We make a good team, huh?” she grinned at him.
“We do… but I think it’s more you than me.” He replied, nudging her back.
She heard boots crunch in the gravel nearby. She put a hand on Simon’s arm and leaned a little closer as she said in a low voice, “I’m glad Negan put me on your crew.”
A Savior appeared from around the corner of the truck and both she and Simon quickly separated, attempting to look as casual as possible. The Savior stared at them for a moment, seeming to debate saying something. Finally, he informed them, “Negan called a gathering in the warehouse. He wants everyone there, you especially,” he looked at her. “You should find the other wives for this.”
She did as she was told, finding where the wives were standing, and making her way to stand beside Sherry and Amber. Amber looked pale and gaunt. Y/n raised an eyebrow at Sherry to ask what was up with Amber. Sherry jerked her chin to show her. Following the direction Sherry motioned, she saw a handsome guy strapped to a chair, in front of a blazing fire.
Oh no. Mark. Amber’s lover. They’d been stupid – they’d been caught. She’d tried to warn Amber it was a bad idea – Negan only had one rule for the wives: do not cheat on him. She was honestly amazed only Mark sat before the fire now. Someone must have done some convincing to get him to let Amber off… She looked around, seeing Dwight at the fire with the poker – her blood boiled. She already despised him, but the more she learned of him from Sherry, and the more she saw how he treated Daryl, her dislike had transitioned to blind hate. Her eyes moved from Dwight to the person beside him and she nearly gasped when her eyes met Daryl’s. They locked eyes and she instinctively began to move toward him.
She was stopped short as Negan entered then, walking forward to talk to the crowd. She didn’t hear a word he said, though, as she saw who came in behind him. The Sherriff’s hat gave him away first, and her heart stopped. Why was Carl here? When had he gotten here? Had Negan taken him?
Her eyes shot to Daryl, and she found him still looking at her. What the fuck? She mouthed at him. He subtly shook his head, and she turned her attention back to Carl, willing him to look at her. His face changed at something Negan was doing, she felt Sherry move to Amber and saw her embrace her, so she turned her attention back to the spectacle. Dwight was pulling the hot iron from the fire and Negan was gloving his hands to take it.
She couldn’t let this happen. Mark and Amber had been dumb, but they didn’t deserve this. Amber was not the strongest, she wouldn’t handle this well at all. And Carl… Carl didn’t need to see this. How could she stop it?
She didn’t know what drove her to do it, barely registered her own voice as she called to Negan, “wait!” He put his outstretched hand down and looked at her, fury building behind his eyes at the public challenge. If she shut up and sank back now, he’d probably let this go. That would be the smart thing to do. She felt all eyes on her as her body did the exact opposite and she found herself standing in between Mark and Negan. Idiot. What are you doing?
“I’ll take it. Burn me instead.” She heard some gasps and murmurs from the crowd. She refused to look at Daryl, who was no doubt readying to fight off every Savior in this building for her.
Negan tilted his head as he asked, “Now why would you do that? Why would I do that?”
“Mark is an incredible shot, way better than I’ll ever be, and very valuable to his crew. If you burn him, he’ll be down healing for weeks, and you’ll be lucky if his aim is ever the same going that close to his eye” she pointed at Dwight’s scarred eyed. “I’m barely more than a grunt. If I’m down a few weeks, the worst that happens is Fat Joey doesn’t get his sandwich delivered and he has to go get it himself.” Some guys chuckled behind her.
She could feel the crowd lean in, could feel their pity, and their gratitude – Mark was beloved by a lot of these people. He was a good guy, that’s why Amber liked him so much. And she’d made good points – his crew needed him. They were already short-handed with the redistribution of men following Rick’s massacre at the satellite station. Losing another one from their barebones crew would hurt. They would not be happy about it.
“That’s so very noble of you, sweetheart,” Negan cooed at her. “But what lesson would that teach Mark? How is he going to learn the importance of following the rules if someone else can just step in and take his consequences?’
After a long pause, Negan reached again for the hot iron and added, “and your face is plenty hot enough as it is.”
Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the crowd as Negan advanced toward Mark. She stumbled back with them, and as the screaming started, she turned and left. She could feel the rage of the crowd behind her as she exited. She walked until she reached Negan’s apartment and sat down against the wall outside his door to wait.
She didn’t have to wait long before Negan and Carl approached. She stood as they neared Negan’s door and gave Carl a hard look.
“Carl,” Negan drawled, “I don’t believe you have met my new wife!” Carl scowled at her at the realization.
“Negan, could I speak to you?” she asked him, glancing at Carl pointedly, “privately?”
“As much as I would love a little romp in the sack with you, I am a little busy right now.”
“Negan.”
He moved closer to her, a cat on the prowl. “I said not right now.” He leaned in close enough to whisper in her ear. “I’ll find you later. I have some things to discuss with you too.” His breath on her neck tickled, causing goosebumps to rise. He gently kissed the area, and she saw Carl tense and clench his fist. Negan left her in the hall, leading Carl into his room.
Frustrated, and still confused about Carl being here, she stomped back to her room to wait.
-----
Her time with Negan since the night he held her while she cried in her room had been, well, confusing. He called her to dinner again the following night and they played their question game again, both seeming to ask more interesting questions about the other. She’d learned a lot about him that night, his softer side. It surprised her. She’d also been given a gift, a “reward” he’d called it for such good information about Rick.
“Anything thing you want, ask. A new, badass gun? A bottle of the whiskey we took from Hilltop? Name it. I am in a giving mood, and you earned a good gift,” he’d told her, flirtatiously but genuine enough.
“Do I have to name it right now, or can I think on it a bit?” she’d asked.
“My generosity does have limitations, but you can take the rest of dinner to think on it.”
After dinner, and a few shots later for each of them, she’d chosen what she would ask for.
“I know what I’d like my reward to be,” she declared after he downed his 4th shot, dodging a question about his love life before the old world fell. He smiled at her and nodded in invitation to ask.
“I would like…” she said, drawing it out to tease him a little. The three shots of Whiskey she’d taken had her in a playful mood. He raised an eyebrow suggestively at her. “Oh, you wish,” she fired back. “No. Nothing like that. What I’d like is, well... 5 free questions. I let you know when one of my questions will be the free pass, and you have to answer, 100% truthfully, with no option to back out by taking a shot.”
She quickly saw the loophole in her request so she added, “and I can use them whenever I want, no time limits.” She replayed her words in her head, making sure they were airtight. She felt like she was dealing with a genie from a fairytale.
Negan studied her, a mix of pleasant surprise and something else behind his eyes. “I will give you 3.”
She grinned at him, about to agree when he added, “but I get 3 of the same.”
“Wha- how is that a gift if you get it too?” she whined back.
“Because the gift is from me, and those are my conditions. If you’d like to change your choice to that gun or something a little more… intimate, I will allow it.” He bit his lip, and something in her heated. Stupid whiskey.
She knew it wasn’t a good idea, it was risky to commit to that. But the thought of him having to answer her with no possibility to back out was too tempting to pass up. She prayed the reward would be worth this risk.
“Deal.” This was the second deal she’d made with the devil in a week.
The following nights were unpredictable. She wasn’t invited back for dinner for a few nights, and by the third, she felt unnerved by it. Not afraid, just... bored. On those nights she’d make her way down and usually found Simon eating outside by a fire, where she’d sit and drink and talk with him until she felt tired enough or tipsy enough to go to bed.
The nights she did have dinner with Negan were the same: eat, questions, drink. Sometimes she’d ask to play a boardgame, and they’d continue their game of questions over Scrabble (which she always won and let him hear about it).
One night, after a brutal placement of the word “quiz,” she used her first free question.
“Negan,” she approached it gently. He looked up from his scrabble tiles with curiosity. She didn’t use his name often. “I’d like to use my first free question.”
He slowly grinned at her. “Alright,” he agreed, “let me finish my drink first. I’m sure I’ll need it.” And he downed the remainder of his whiskey in one go. “Okay, shoot.”
“We’ve had a lot of these dinners together,” she prefaced, “and at our first one, you said as a wife I would have to perform ‘wifely duties.’” She paused.
“There a question in there?” he teased her.
She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous to ask this. “Well, you haven’t, um… touched me. At all. You haven’t even asked to… so I guess my question is, why not?”
Negan chuckled. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s not your looks, if that’s your concern.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. He knew that wasn’t what she was asking.
“Fine. No, I haven’t tried or asked, but it isn’t because I don’t want to.” He winked at her. “In fact, I want to so bad it drives me crazy when you leave here at night. None of my other wives leave here until I’m satisfied… but I knew from the night you came in here and told me to make Rick hold Lucille that you wouldn’t be like my other wives.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue.
“You’re different. I want it to be different with you. I told you before, I have enough obedient dogs. So as badly as I want it, I will not touch you until you want it too. And trust me, darlin’, you will want it,” he purred in that Negan arrogance.
She would never want it, she told herself. She told herself so many times she started dreaming it. But no matter how much she told herself she would never want it; it didn’t stop a part of her from heating every time she thought of those words.
She was invited back the next night, where instead of their typical drinking game of questions, Negan upped the ante with a rousing game of strip questions. If they didn’t answer a question, they had to remove an item of clothing.
She was thanking her lucky stars she’d come straight to dinner from a collection with her crew, so she had a lot more clothing on than she normally would at dinner.
With such high stakes, the questions got very personal. “Where is the craziest place you’ve ever fucked?” started it off, and it moved into first loves, worst heartbreaks, hardest kills, and eventually biggest fears. They were both on the couch, him sitting a little too close to her, and both down to their underthings when he used his first free question.
“Free card question,” he stated, leaning a little closer to her. He kissed her bare shoulder, and it sent goosebumps down her arm. Tracing circles with his finger where his lips just were, he asked in a growly tone, “why did you really volunteer to come back with me that night in the woods?”
Uh oh. She sent a silent thank you up to whoever was listening for not being three shots deep into this game. She paused a minute, what could she tell him?
“What?” she flirted, buying some time to think, “you don’t think you impressed me enough for me to want to go with you?”
“No,” he replied, still tracing circles on her shoulder. “I knew when the words left your mouth it wasn’t true. I’ve been trying since then to figure out why you’re here. I thought maybe it was to spy, help Rick take us down from the inside. But you’ve proven to be working against him, and other communities, over and over since then.” She cringed inside at that. Had she gotten that bad? “Then I thought, maybe you were just biding your time to get close enough to kill me. And that could still be true, but the way your body is reacting to my every touch right now, I am doubting it. So, I’d like to know now, what was your reason?”
Think, y/n. Think. It had to be believable. She obviously couldn’t tell him the truth. She feigned a little nervousness, hoping it sold her story.
“I… well…I wanted to kill Dwight,” there was plenty of truth in that. “Honestly, I still wouldn’t mind doing it. I thought my best bet was to get inside here with him.”
He waited for her to continue. “He killed the girl I was seeing. The doctor in Alexandria. Shot her through the eye with Daryl’s crossbow.”
“Wow,” Negan replied. “You play for both teams? I did not see that coming!” He laughed. “I will remember that for our future. As for Dwight… well, I don’t hold a special place in my heart for him, but I’d like him to stay alive for the time being. If or when that changes, you will be the first to know.”
He seemed satisfied with her lie.
“I’m glad it wasn’t to kill me,” he purred, leaning into her neck, “I think you would have missed things you don’t want to miss…” his hand found her knee and began slowly trailing from up her thigh. His lips found skin again, this time on a tender part of her neck.
No, no, no, no. She thought, though her body was responding differently. She franticly searched for any sort of distraction to stop where this was headed. Her eyes scanned the room, anything to ask about, to suddenly find fascinating enough she needed to look at. Then she saw it, leaned against the wall under a window.
“I have a question now. A free one.”
“Mmhmm?” he moaned out, still kissing her neck in a way that was making her quiver.
“Lucille,” she said, putting a hand against his chest and pushing a bit. “Where did you get the name?”
He froze, his lips no longer on her skin. He didn’t seem to breathe for several long seconds. Then he was standing, putting on his pants, and walking toward the door.
“We’re done here,” he said firmly, holding the door open for her.
She stared in shock for a moment, and when it was clear he was not joking, she quickly grabbed her clothes and fled his room.
That was the last time she’d seen him, until now, with Carl in tow. It had been days, maybe a week. What she’d thought was an innocent question had really struck a nerve.
-----
Negan didn’t send for her until late in the evening. She’d had supper already, a bath, and was about to settle into bed with a book when the guard knocked on her door. She didn’t bother dressing up, she decided her leggings and cropped sweatshirt would be just fine if he was pulling her out of bed. She had half a mind to tell him he could see her at a decent hour tomorrow, but she desperately wanted to know what was going on with Carl.
She didn’t knock when she got there, she just walked right in, to find him sitting on the couch with a drink in one hand, and the other hand dragging down his face in exhaustion.
“Long day?” she quipped, looking around for any sign of the Grimes boy.
“You could say that,” he replied, humorless.
She decided not to waste any time with flirting or working up to her questions.
“Where is Carl?” she demanded.
He stared at her, and she was not sure he was going to answer her at all when he finally said, “he’s back home with daddy and baby Grimes, safe and sound.”
Relief washed over her. “What was he doing here?”
Negan chuckled. “He was here to kill me. You weren’t lying when you said the kid was reckless. I like the little bastard.”
“He just showed up to kill you?” she asked, surprised but not shocked. It was a very Carl thing to do.
“He snuck in on a supply truck earlier today. Killed two of our guards before we got to him.”
She didn’t let her face show the pride she felt. “And you just let him go?” she accused.
“I don’t think you’re in any position to question anything I do,” he replied angrily.
“What the hell does that mean?” she challenged. He’d shut her out and ignored her for a week now, she’d lost any desire to filter her annoyance with him.
“I think you know exactly what it means.”
She glared at him, at a loss. What was he accusing her of?
“Tell me,” he said, standing up and taking a few slow steps toward her. “How many people were you screwing in Alexandria?”
“What?” she asked, incredulous.
“Carl seemed real pissed when he learned you were my wife. I just wonder how many people in Alexandria you went through before coming here to expand your selection. Rick, obviously. Your little girlfriend, who else? The redhead? The mullet guy? Spencer? Yeah, I met that douche bag today. Is there anyone else I should know about? I hear you’ve gotten mighty friendly with Simon. Practically throwing himself yourself at him, touching all over him, going to him every night, not days after licking your lips and batting your lashes at me. Anyone here you got your eye on?”
She heard a slap, Negan’s face turned abruptly to the side, she felt a sting in her palm, and a redness began spreading across his cheek.
She’d slapped him. Shit, she’d slapped him.
She bit down the terror of the realization – she’d seen very bad things happen to people who’d done a lot less to him. She willed her face into a rebellious glare, daring him to retaliate, promising hell if he did.
Negan’s stare was just as hateful, never breaking eye contact as he rubbed his cheek and flexed his jaw. Suddenly he sprang toward her, his hand was on her throat, and he was shoving her backwards, she could barely keep upright they were moving so fast. Her back slammed against the concrete wall. Negan’s face was within an inch of hers, she could feel his warm breath on her mouth as he growled, “that. will. not. happen. again,” pausing on each word like a forceful bite. She was prying at his hand with both hands, trying to loosen his grip enough that she could take a breath, refusing to show him the panic rising in her.
He let his grip loosen a bit. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she breathed out as she gasped to fill her lungs again. He did not remove his hand from her throat or yield even a centimeter to her. He continued to stare daggers into her eyes, but there was something other than anger behind them. What is that?
Desire, she realized. Animalistic desire. It was then she noticed just how close their bodies were, his hips pinning hers in place against the wall, her feet barely touching the floor. She could feel his growing erection pressing into her. She felt a tingle in her core, her body betraying her. Her breath suddenly felt heavy, her chest heaving against his. An image of their naked chests pressed together flashed in her mind, it was as if she could already feel his bare skin. Did she really want this? From him? After all he’d done? She knew she shouldn’t, but with him pressed against her, hand still on her throat, and looking at her like that… she couldn’t deny the desire growing in her, verging dangerously close to need.
He must have read that on her face, because suddenly Negan’s mouth was on hers, crushing her lips with his, his scruff scraping her chin and cupids bow as he sucked, unrelenting. His tongue began forcefully pushing against her lips, like a battering ram, demanding entrance. She conceded. He tasted her mouth like he was eating for the first time in a week - hungrily, greedily, but savoring the taste of each section of her mouth he explored. Then she was kissing him back, just as greedily – no, angrily. It became not a dance of lovers, but a battle of opponents. His tongue pushed, hers pushed back in turn. Her lips sucked, he fought for dominance with his. She bit – not gently- down on his bottom lip and slowly dragged against his lip until it was free. He pulled away from her face at that and his eyes met hers, amusement dancing in them now. He’d met his match. He grinned at the realization.
Their noisy, shallow breaths filled the otherwise silent room, awakening her from the trance his tongue had put her in. She fought to stay above the fog, forcing herself to remember the things he’d done, to remember Daryl, but the memories would not come. All there was in this moment was him - his body, and hers. His dark eyes held her stare a moment longer, and then they were closed, and his lips were crushing hers again. His hands began lifting her sweatshirt from around her waist, his fingers trailing up her stomach. He explored with gentle fingertips, caressing up and down her sides, his knuckles grazing across her lower abdomen, leaving no patch of skin untouched, a trail of goosebumps in their wake. As his hands creeped up her torso, his touch became fiercer. He reached her breasts, found them bare under her shirt, and groaned into her mouth as each hand took a full palm of breast and began massaging. He was not gentle, but she did not pull away. He backed away from her only enough to allow room to remove her shirt and expose her fully. His lips were back on hers in an instant, no less demanding than before. They moved to her neck, and she felt one of her traitorous hands move to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his short hair. She hadn’t planned on encouraging this, but she gripped his hair harder as he his trailed his lips down her chest, finding a breast and softly biting down. An involuntary moan purred in her throat. He moved to her nipple and began a rough pattern of sucking and biting, causing the heat between her legs to flare.
Again, it was as if he read her mind, as he worked her breast with his mouth, he quickly pulled down her leggings, taking her underwear with them. She was thankful she had not put on shoes to come here tonight, providing no obstacle to kicking out of her pants as he sank to his knees and began moving his lips down her stomach. Further.
“Jump,” Negan growled against her stomach.
“Wh- what?” she barely stuttered out.
“Jump.”
She hopped slightly, then she was being lifted her by her backside, her thighs placed on either side of his head, her bodyweight now shared between the wall and his shoulders. He did not waste time kissing those thighs, or staring lustfully, or slowly working his way to her center. Hungrily, almost angrily, he dove straight for her, parting her lips with his fingers to make way for his tongue. He lapped at her liked a parched animal at water, and found she was just as wet. She arched away from the wall in response. His warm tongue hitting her clit at every angle as it moved. He sucked, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she cried out. Both hands now in his hair, gripping in response to each flick of his tongue, encouraging his rough movements. She rode his face, rolling her hips, her thighs unapologetically pressing in on his head. She wouldn’t last much longer; she could feel her climax building quickly. Now his tongue was at her entrance, teasing as he gently licked around it. She pushed his head into her, needing him to be inside her, desperate to be filled and to find release. He plunged his tongue in, flatting it as he found the underside of her clit, and slowly dragged it back out and up, never breaking contact. He plunged in again with no pause. Dragging, plunging, dragging, plunging. He worked her with expert pressure, she was all but screaming at the sensation. On the last slow drag of her clit, he swept up as he exited, an unrelenting pressure on her sensitive bud, sending her orgasm exploding through her. She threw her head back and did not recognize the noise that escaped her open mouth as she came against his face. He lightly flicked his tongue against her until he was sure she had fully completed.
Before she knew it was happening, she was back on the floor, and he was walking away from her.
“You’re dismissed,” was all he said as he moved to open the door.
She gathered her clothes – she would need to have a word with him about this new habit of sending her from his room undressed – and made for the door. She paused in front of him and turned to meet his eyes, letting him see a twinge of hurt in them.
“Since you asked, and I am counting this as one of your free questions, I did not sleep with Rick or anyone else in Alexandria. And I have about as much romantic interest in Simon as you do,” and with that she made her way back to her room, naked but not caring who saw her.
Back in the dorm, she raced to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before vomiting. Sherry must have heard her, because moments later she was sitting beside her, holding her hair back. Sherry sat with her until she was finished, and then let her lay her head in Sherry’s lap while Sherry stroked her hair.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t shake. She wasn’t traumatized. She hated herself. She hated herself because she knew then she didn’t hate Negan, and she didn’t hate what they’d just done. She hated herself because she wanted more.
It’s time, she vowed to herself, tomorrow we leave, even if we have to burn this place to the ground to get out.
More Posts from Itsscatballou and Others
CUTE
Midday naps and business meetings.
boyfriend! Daryl x fem!reader
Warnings: suggestive
Word count: 522
Copyright © 2023 r66dus on Tumblr. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format or translation.
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He came home from doing whatever he had to do that day and got in through the basement door to find you napping on the couch he had slept in alone at night before you two admitted your feelings to each other.
You were always cold and he found so heartwarming the fact that you’d curl up in a ball to sleep when he wasn’t there. He took the book you were reading from your hands to set it on the table before kissing your forehead tenderly.
Taking his shirt and shoes off, he grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair to cover you with before laying next to you. The closeness from his bare chest woke you up with a startle.
“Shit!” You whisper-shouted.
“Shhh ‘s just me sunshine. Go back t’ sleep” he reassured with honey in his voice. Daryl did this often, he’d come home to find you asleep and lay next to your sleeping body. The archer would rarely fall asleep in the middle of the day but he craved the proximity so he stayed for as long as your sleep lasted. Sometimes this was more intimate than sex.
“Hmm did I fall asleep?” you mumbled definitely still asleep.
“Mhm, ya still are” he affirmed with a soft throaty chuckle while playing with the ends of your hair and admiring your features.
You moved your hand to feel him, mostly to confirm he wasn’t the product of a vivid dream “Mmm and you’re half naked” you paused, cracking one eye open to check what your fingertips felt, his naked chest “bold move Dixon. Getting in bed with a taken woman, didn’t take you for that kind of guy”
He chuckled lowly, the kind of chuckle that came from within, laced with adoration and love. You never really had a filter to what you said but sleep was definitely a stronger form of alcohol for you, you also adored flirting with him and watching his reaction. Your flirting was also a welcomed form of reassurance for him.
“Go back to sleep woman” he trailed off covering your now open eyes with a loving hand when you began looking him up and down with a teasing smirk. His eyes softened when he smiled at your behavior, god how he adored you, even when you made his cheeks hurt from smiling too much. You were enjoying this far too much despite having been dead asleep minutes prior.
“I will!” You said laughing at his actions. Then, you removed his hand and kissed it before he hugged you closer with it by the waist “and when I wake up, you can take off the other half, do we have a deal?”
“I guess we do” he agreed, nudging his nose against yours, prompting you to tilt your head up to kiss your lips amorously and caress your cheek with his thumb. Once the kiss started turning into a make out session you both pulled away with somewhat of a saddened sigh from the loss of contact but stayed close enough so he could hear your whispers.
“Love doing business with you”
Feelings Wheel
This is the feelings wheel by Geoffrey Roberts, shown to me by my therapist. My initial thought was, "what amazing synonyms to use for diverse emotional vocabulary!"
More than that, this wheel is great for understanding your characters inner motivations and reactions to situations. For example, if a character constantly feels helpless, then their overarching characteristics will be that they are fearful.
Characters who are less emotionally aware may use words and act in the inner most circle. Those much more aware of their emotions may describe themselves or express and use words from the outer most circle.
Hopefully you guys find this as helpful as I did! Let me know down in the comments.
Happy Writing!
This was heartbreaking 💔
He’s so tender. I just want them to hold each other!
Look for the Light - 5
Masterlist
Summary: Four years ago, Joel saved you from certain death. In return, you followed him faithfully. Always ready to do and give him whatever he asked, despite the hurt it inflicted on you, body and soul. Agreeing to go with him to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies… this would be the last time you’d follow him… After this, your debt would be paid.
Relationships: Reader x Joel Miller, Joel Miller & Ellie, Reader & Ellie
Warnings: Like AO3, I choose to give none. Read at your own risk. 18+ (So excited to share this with you. So much to come folks! 🙊😍)
Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
You watched Joel from your seat beside the fire. The stone wall at your back does little to keep back the biting cold. You knew you must be close to where Tommy's last known location was and your mind started to wander as to what the plan was once you found him. Joel was so certain that his brother would lead them to the fireflies and yet believed that unlikely. The man had left them for a reason.
"You two ever going to speak again?" Ellie piped up, pulling your attention away from Joel.
"Ellie." You warned but the teenager scoffed.
"You two have barely spoken a word to each other since..." She trailed off, knowing the subject was still raw for you "You can't keep going on like this."
"I have his back when he needs it and he has mine... we don't need to speak to each other to achieve that."
"He's hurting too." Ellie pushed and you rolled your eyes at her "He is."
"Drop it, Ellie." You grumbled "Get some sleep. Early start ahead."
The teenager didn't push and you were glad of that. The two of you pulled out your blankets and settled down for the night, knowing Joel wouldn't allow either one of you to take the watch. Your eyes drifted to the man whose eyes scanned the darkened landscape, heart aching a little at the thought that he felt even a small semblance of pain to what had happened.
Little did you know, Joel was heartbroken. That day haunted his dreams and robbed him of his ability to sleep. Your tear-filled eyes and bloody hands were permanently seared into his memory, forever torturing him.
Joel fought to keep his tears at bay as he stripped away your soiled jeans. There was so much blood. He feared for your life if you lost much more. He knew that miscarriages could be dangerous when heavy bleeding was involved and this... this he felt fit those symptoms. Your skin was pale and your eyes looked sunken. Like you'd not slept in days and he supposed that to an extent, you probably hadn't.
"Is she losing the baby?" Ellie asked, her eyes wide as she watched the man throw the ruined garment away.
"Fetch me some water." He asked, knowing that the taps still worked in the abandoned motel.
"Joel-"
Just do as I ask Ellie." He snapped, voice wobbling a little as he looked at the teenager with an expression she found hard to read.
She didn't argue then. Rummaging through your pack, she grabbed one of the tins and ran to the bathroom, filling the vestibule with water before grabbing an old towel hanging beside the sink.
"Here." She said when she'd made her way back, handing the water and towel to Joel before sitting down on the bed beside you "You're okay." She said softly as she stroked the hair out of your face "Joel's gonna clean you up and then we'll move you to my bed so you can get some sleep."
"Ellie-" You choked but the girl just hushed you, cradling your head in her arms and pulling it to her chest.
Joel watched out of the corner of his eye whilst he worked to clean away the blood that painted your thighs. He was unable to stop his hands from shaking as he worked. His heart was breaking. Despite how he'd reacted when you'd told him the news, he had since come around to the idea that he was to have a baby with you.
He had started to picture what they would look like. He'd imagined another daughter. His curly brown hair and your eyes. He'd started to picture you, round with his child and how you'd glow. It was a picture that now had burned away. Disappearing in a puff of smoke. He knew you were never going to be the same after this.
And neither was he.
When he was done cleaning you up, he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the room Ellie had slept in that night. He was glad you'd fallen asleep or you would have seen the bodies of Henry and Sam still laying there.
Once you were settled in the bed, he went to work burying the boys. Needing some time away from the devastation inside. Ellie had gone in search of some clothes that might fit you. Your jean were beyond saving. He knew that eventually, he'd need to speak to you about what had happened but he would wait until you were ready.
However long that was.
"Here." Said Joel as he handed you a mug, coffee steaming within.
You nodded your thanks then returned to starting at the landscape beyond, bringing the mug to your lips so you could blow on its contents. Joel lingered a moment, looking at you longingly, praying that you would spare him at least one glance but you didn't. You just sipped your twenty-year-old coffee and paid him no heed.
You had barely spoken to him at all since leaving the motel two weeks ago. He didn't push you to speak to him. Your interactions with Ellie had remained the same but with him, they had ceased completely. He was in agony. The longer you froze him out, the more his heart cracked. He was sure that if this went on much longer it would shatter completely and he would surely bleed out.
You noticed him walk away from the corner of your eye and you breathed a sigh of relief at his retreat. You weren't sure what he wanted from you. He got what he wanted. The baby was gone. Did he expect you to want to talk about it? Join him in his relief? All you wanted to do now was achieve your mission so you could be rid of him. The reminder of what you lost.
"You gonna be pissed at him forever?" Ellie asked as she plonked herself next to you.
"Maybe." You replied curtly, eyes remaining fixed ahead.
"It's not his fault you know." She stated and this grabbed your attention "You losing the baby isn't his fault."
"That's not-"
"You can't blame him for what happened." Ellie pushed and you sighed "You'll need to talk to him eventually."
"I know." You grumbled, scrapping a hand over your face before sipping at the coffee Joel had made you "I will. I just... I need some time."
"Understandable." Ellie replied, giving you a warm smile "Just don't leave it too long."
It was later that night when Ellie had fallen asleep that you had decided to break your silence. Joel was perched on a fallen tree trunk, gun in hand as he scanned the woodland that surrounded you. You sat yourself down at the other end, not wanting to be too close to him, and then you spoke.
"I can take the watch tonight." You piped up, taking Joel by surprise "You could do with some sleep."
"It's fine, you go ahead." Joel replied, shaking his head at you "Don't sleep much these days anyway."
"Joel, you can't keep going on like this." You argued and this grabbed his attention "You have to let us help you."
"You know, that's might rich of you to say." Joel grumbled, turning his body to face you "Seein' as you don't seem to want to speak to me anymore."
"Joel-"
"I know you're hurtin' and I understand but-"
"Understand?" You spat, eyes growing wide in disbelief "How could you possibly understand this?"
"I lost a child once before... remember?" He said, his voice lowered in an attempt to keep this conversation out of Ellie's ears "I understand how much you're hurtin' but you have to let me in."
"You didn't even want it." You growled, eyes cold as you stared back at him "I bet you're relieved!"
"I'm not." He growled, his face hardening at your accusation "But we both know that it was probably for the best." He continued "What sort of life could we have offered them?"
"I would have loved them." You sobbed "Nurtured them. I would have given all I had to give them a good life but that opportunity was taken away from me."
Joel stared at you with wide eyes. His heart ached to tell you that he was just as heartbroken as you. That he had hoped, after delivering Ellie to the fireflies, you and he would find somewhere to settle to raise your baby together. Instead, he watched you as you cried, hand resting on where your child had once rested and he found himself unable to say anything. You scoffed at his lack of response, cementing your belief that he was relieved you had lost the baby.
Watching you walk away, sobbing, his heart broke all over again. He had lost you once and for all.
You admired the river that carved its path through the landscape on your right. The landscape was something you'd read about in the books that had survived the apocalypse.
"Look at that river. It's crazy blue." Said Ellie as she too admired the wilderness surrounding you all "Hey, Joel... what if this is the River of Death?"
This made you a Joel pause. The words of that couple echoed in your brain as you share a look with the older man.
"What's past the river?" Ellie had asked and she had replied
"Death."
Horses whinnying, made you jump from your skin and you grabbed your gun as Joel pushed Ellie back.
"Get behind me." Joel ordered, studying their mounted foes and coming to the conclusion that fighting them wasn't an option "We ain't lookin' for any trouble. We're just passin' through."
"Drop the guns." One of them ordered and both complied, raising your hands above your head once you had "You... take five steps back."
"How 'bout we just talk this through?" Joel said calmly, desperate to placate the situation.
"How 'bout you shut the fսck up?" The man spat and you flinched at his tone, heart thumping wildly in your chest.
"Okay, easy. You'll be okay."
"You been near Infected?" The man demanded and you scoffed.
"There's no Infected out here." You piped up and the group all looked at you.
"The hell there ain't." The man replied before whistling, a dog barking then it trotted into view "Last chance for a bullet. If you've been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.
The dog sniffed at Joel's legs before moving on to you. The animal grunted when it was satisfied that neither of you was infected.
"Like I said... we'll just move on." Joel said as he looked from the dog to the man that owned it.
"Now her." He said, motioning at Ellie and Joel felt his heart start to race. Low growling echoed in his ears and yet he found himself glued to the spot. Unable to do anything but wait for what came next.
"Hi. Hi." She giggled, the dog licking her face and Joel turned to see the girl grinning at him.
The man whistled, pulling the dog back to his side and Joel felt his heart slow again. His eyes returned to the leader of the group.
"You just bought yourself 10 more seconds. What are you doin' out here?"
"I'm just lookin' for my brother. That's all, nothin' more." Joel replied, his expression almost pleading.
"Hо! What's your name?" Asked a woman, pulling down the fabric that covered her face.
"Joel."
"Get them on some horses."
"But-"
"Just do it." She ordered "They're coming with us."
You mounted the horse given to you, Ellie joining you on yours as Joel gets on his own. The three of you then followed the group for a short while. Not a word was shared between anyone until you reached a set of tall wooden gates, flanked on either side by a wall just as high.
The gates opened. Revealing a bustling town that looked like it had never been touched by the tragedy that had torn the world to shreds. It reminded you of where you'd grown up. Just on the border of Canada. The wooden buildings felt familiar to you and you felt safe for the first time in years. Children laughed around you. People sang Christmas carols as they gathered around a tree that stood proudly in the square.
"TOMMY!" Joel's shouting pulled your attention away from the town and you watched the man leap from his horse and sprint towards a man you recognised as Tommy.
He didn't appear to have aged since you'd seen him last, unlike Joel.
"What the fսck you doin' here?" He asked, pulling back from his embrace with his brother to look at him better.
"I came here to save you," Joel replied, the two brothers sharing a look before he pulled him into a hug again.
The sight stirred something you'd thought long dead.
Affection.
The three of you were then led to a canteen-like space where you were served a piping hot meal and the cleanest water you'd tasted in years. Then, after Joel scorned Ellie for her manners and you'd all learned that Tommy was now married to the woman who'd brought you to town. A woman who went by the name of Maria. She then proceeded to give you a tour of the town before Maria took Ellie to the house they'd allocated them and you and Joel went to the town bar to catch up.
You weren't sure why Tommy had insisted you come. You weren't family. You suspected he hoped it would soothe over the grilling he knew he was inevitably going to receive from Joel. You knew differently.
"Been a long time." Chuckled as he stroked the polished wooden bar.
"I've never been in a bar." You teased, surprised at how relaxed you now found yourself.
"Shut up." The brothers replied in unison, making you smirk at them.
"Doesn't seem like you aged much." Joel said as he returned his attention to his brother, watching as he poured you both a glass of amber liquid.
"You, on the other hand." Tommy said, winking at you before pushing the glasses towards you and Joel "Thanks for still givin' a shit about me." He toasted, smiling at Joel before sipping his drink.
Joel's mouth formed a pouty 'O' as he looked from the glass to his brother. A silent conversation passed between the two men.
"Workin' on raisin' some hogs, too. Once we get bacon, I mean, what's even left?"
"Pshoo." Joel laughed "Christmas trees and bacon? Pretty decent setup." Joel said as he stood and walked over to the fireplace across from the bar. Studying the pictures sat on the mantle.
"So, how's Tess?" Tommy asked as his gaze flitted between you and Joel.
"She's fine. All right." Joel replied, taking you by surprise so you opted to keep your mouth shut. The man knew what he was doing.
"Good then. And the kid?" Pushed and Joel once again answered before you had a chance to open your mouth.
"Oh, yeah. She’s the daughter of some Firefly muckety-muck... Try'na find her family somewhere out here. I was headin' in this direction, so..."
"Really? Goodness of your heart?" Tommy scoffed, his gaze drifting to you.
"There's a payment." You replied, watching as his eyes squinted at you. "So you know where they might be? These Fireflies?" You asked, taking a sip of your drink.
"Well, they got a base down at the University of Eastern Colorado. It's, uh, a week's ride south. But it is severely fսckеd up between here and there. Infected... raiders." Tommy stated, his gaze returning to his brother "It’s not exactly an easy trip."
"It’ll be easy for us, seeing as how you can headshot Infected from half a mile away, which is a bunch of bullshit, by the way." You chuckled at Joel's statement, remembering how good a shot Tommy had been back in the day.
"Yeah, I can’t go."
"Oh, come on." You chuckled, sure that Tommy was having you both on. "I made it across the country."
"The two of us can make it from here to Colorado." Joel pushed, brows pulled together as he studied his brother's boy language closely. "What, ’cause your wife won’t let you?"
"They’re good people." Tommy argued "They didn’t have to take me in, but they did. And all they ask is that I follow their rules."
"I’m your brother." Joel growled, unable to believe what he was hearing.
"Yeah, I’m aware." Tommy scoffed "They’re very protective of this place, and for good fuckin’ reason." The younger man continued, sipping his drink again "I mean, folks find out we’re up here…"
"No, we heard." Joel interrupted and Tommy sighed.
"Wrong people might show up."
"So is that what we are? Are we the wrong people?" He asked, motioning between you and him.
"Joel…"
"Those things I did, Tommy, those things that you judge me for, I did those things to keep us alive." Joel spat, edging closer to his sibling.
"We did those things." Tommy snarled "And they weren’t 'things.' We murdered people... And I don’t judge you for it." Tommy paused, letting out a sigh as he looked between you and Joel "We survived the only way we knew how. But there were other ways..." He trailed off "We just weren’t any good at ’em."
"If you knew the shit that we've been through... Tommy, tryin’ to find you these last few months…"
"I’m gonna be a father."
This news hit you like a freight train.
You saw Joel glance at you. Felt his eyes on you as you started down into your drink. Desperately trying to keep yourself together.
"Maria’s a few months along now." Tommy continued, smiling as he played with the glass in his hands "So I just gotta be more careful..." He paused, glancing at you and Joel "To be honest, I’m scared to death. But I don’t know. Uh… I feel like I’d be a good dad."
A pregnant pause hung over you all. Joel looked at you before returning his attention to his drink. Downing the last of it before speaking.
"Guess we’ll find out." He said as he poured himself a drink.
“I guess we’ll find out?" Tommy spat, angry at his brother's response "That’s all you got?"
"What else am I supposed to say?" The older man asked, looking at his brother who was now squared up to him.
"Just because life stopped for you… doesn’t mean it has to stop for me." Tommy snarled and you swear you could hear Joel's heart shatter.
With tearful eyes, he glanced at you before downing his drink and grabbing his coat.
"We’ll grab some supplies and be outta your hair in the mornin’."
You watched Joel leave. Tommy called after him before slamming his hand on the counter of the bar.
"We lost a baby." You said numbly, grabbing Tommy's attention.
"What?"
"Joel and I... We found out three months ago that I was pregnant." You replied, eyes locking with the man's as you continued "We lost it after escaping from Kansas City."
"Shit I'm-"
"I'm happy for you Tommy." You continued "But don't expect us to be jumping for joy."
You finished your drink and then grabbed your coat, wanting to be out of this place as soon as possible.
"I'm sorry you lost your baby." Tommy piped up, stopping you in your tracks "But life goes on. You can't live your life bitter because other people have what it is you want... It'll poison you."
You didn't reply. You simply left, your tears streaming by the time you stepped outside.
You managed to find the house Maria and Tommy had told you about. You'd decided to take a walk on your own for a few hours and before you'd realised, the sun had set and the town was now blanketed in the soft yellow light. Stepping inside you could hear talking coming from upstairs.
"I’m not her, you know?" Ellie said as you came to a stop outside her room "Maria told me about Sarah and…"
"Don’t." Joel warned, his voice low "Don’t say another word."
"I-I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel." Ellie pushed on, ignoring the man's warning "But I have lost people, too."
"You have no idea what loss is." Joel growled, his tone making you shiver.
"Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me." Ellie spat "Everybody, fucking except for you!" She yelled "So don’t tell me that I’d be safer with somebody else because the truth is I would just be more scared."
"You’re right." Joel piped up after a short pause "You’re not my daughter and I sure as hell ain’t your dad..." He paused a moment, and you wondered where he was going with this. Your question was soon answered.
"Now, come dawn… we’re goin’ our separate ways." You felt your blood boil.
You didn't even flinch when he opened the door to see you standing on the other side. The two of you then just glared at each other before you stormed off, leaving a frustrated Joel in your wake.
The words his brother had spoken to him less than an hour earlier after he'd pleaded for the man to take Ellie still swirled around in his head.
"I know you lost another child Joel... and for that Brother I am sorry but you can't keep shutting her out. I know you're grieving... Don't bottle it up."
Making his way downstairs, he placed himself down on the couch and threw his head into his hands. Memories of Sarah flashed in his mind. Of him decorating the tree with her. Making Christmas cookies to hand from its branches. Not that many made it onto the tree.
His mind then drifted to you. How he could have shared that with you one day. How he still wanted to. He knew he had to make things right with you.
He just wasn't sure how.
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This is amazing
Heels
Daryl sees reader walking around in a pair of high heels from her new closet in Alexandria and it drives him wild!
Warnings: loving smut!
Daryl Dixon was a leg man.
Whether it was the models in Merle's nudie magazines or the real live girls in his hometown, the first thing the shy younger Dixon brother noticed was a nice pair of legs. You had the best he'd ever seen.
When you appeared at the gates of the prison in a t-shirt and shorts as Daryl and Maggie were clearing walkers from the fence, you were sunburned and bug bitten everywhere. They gave you a bottle of water, asked you three questions, then let you in. Daryl hadn't thought about things like attractive body parts since the world ended, until he watched you walk away up the dirt hill with Maggie. He was suddenly glad he had walkers to take his sudden, overwhelming frustration out on.
Daryl was glad you kept those shorts after washing them, and wore them often, even if it distracted him. But it wasn't just your legs. It was your smile, your kindness, your work ethic, your playfulness with Judith, and your devotion the group. Daryl fell in love with every part of you.
You only saw enough of him to be intrigued. He never stopped, never rested, never stood still, and certainly never had a full conversation with anyone. He only said what was necessary and got back to it, whether it was going on a run or a hunt, building or fixing something, or keeping to himself. He wanted to talk to you the most, but he couldn't do small talk, he didn't know how to express his feelings for you, and he was afraid to say the wrong thing, in the wrong way. You tried to initiate many times. You could tell his gruff exterior shielded a shy, sensitive soul, but you never got very far. You mostly learned things from each other during runs, when the other members of the group got you both talking. You kept thinking there would be time, that at some point the two of you would become more than friends. Then the prison fell.
Daryl didn't know you escaped with Carol and Tyrese. He laid awake every night mourning you, regretting that he was too awkward and insecure to even be around you, despite how much he wanted you.
As he kneeled in front of a slaughter basin at Terminous, believing he was about to die, he saw your face and had a brief moment of peace, hoping to see you again on the other side. Carol caused the explosion that saved everyone, then led Daryl back to you. He fell to his knees when he saw you, wondering if he was already dead, but feeling like he was in heaven either way. You went straight to him, knelt down in front of him, and swept his long dirty bangs away from his eyes.
"There you are," you whispered through happy tears.
For the second time in less than an hour, Daryl Dixon broke down in a woman's arms. But he wasn't pried away from you as quickly or easily.
Life on the road to D.C. didn't afford much time for romance. More fighting, more separation, more death, starvation, and moments of hopelessness kept you both from verbalising how much you felt for each other. But you both knew there was something between you. Fighting side-by-side had to be enough, though, for now. As long as your two legs kept trudging on, Daryl would follow you anywhere.
Then Aaron brought you all to Alexandria. You and Daryl walked through the gates hand in hand. You both prayed that the safety and comfort of the community wasn't just an illusion. You hoped it was a place where you could finally stop and get to know each other.
Once your group split up into separate houses, you and Tara shared one of the smaller houses a few doors down from Rick's house, where Daryl set up camp in the basement.
It had only been a few days. There was still so much to do. You'd get to each other eventually.
The night of Deanna's party, you went for a little while to be polite, looking for Daryl the whole time. After one drink you couldn't fake any more small talk or avoid Spencer's flirting and went home.
You walked around the few barely lit streets, still searching for Daryl, but gave up and went back to an empty house.
You didn't know what to do with yourself. Free time - what was that?
You decided to snoop through your own house. It was only your second night there.
You decided to dig into the closet first. You had pulled a few pieces of clothing from the shared pile when you all arrived but every house was full of necessities and luxuries.
The style wasn't exactly "you," but everything was brand new, clean, no holes, rips, tears, blood stains, or mud-caked fabric. There were pajamas, underwear, and stacks of shoe boxes. Most were loafers or sneakers, but you were shocked to find a pair of black high heels mixed in with the other unassuming shoe boxes. They weren't too fancy or dressy, just plain black patent slingbacks, about 4 inches high with a rounded toe. To you, it was like finding buried treasure.
You practically lived in high heels in your old life. As a teenager you never took a job where you couldn't wear them. You wore them to the grocery store, family bbqs, even church (surely God didn't mind a little kitten heel).
You checked the inside for a size. 8 medium. Just like you. You sat on the floor of the walk-in closet and slipped them on. It was like going home. It didn't matter that were wearing a long boring skirt, that your hair was in a messy bun, that no one would ever see how fan-fucking-tasticly you slayed in those shoes. You felt it. You owned it. That feminine pride was just for you.
Of course you could still walk in them. Bitch, please, you never forget how to do what you were born to do. You did a lap around your bedroom, the click-clack on the hardwood floors sounding like your second pulse. You strutted over to the wall-length mirror and rolled the waist of the skirt up. After the fall of civilization and 2 years of near-death experiences, the last fuck you gave was about any physical insecurities. So what about length, shape, scars, ankle width, thigh gaps, knee fat (which sounded absurd even in the old world), if your ass was too big, too small or not high enough. You were still alive, you had 4 walls and a roof, food to eat, people you loved, and a pair of classic high heels on your feet.
You wished you had discovered them earlier. Maybe you could've worn them to the party? No, you wouldn't have. It was still the apocalypse, you were all fighters, you never knew what shit would hit the fan at any given moment, and being caught in heels or bare feet could mean your end. You all needed solid, practical boots and shoes to kick ass or run on a dime. And Spencer would've done a lot more than just flirt.
But maybe Daryl would've seen you in them. Maybe he would've finally stopped - just stopped - and talked to you.
You sighed and went downstairs for a drink. Every house had liquor in it too, and another glass of wine, in your heels no less, sounded like a perfectly civilized evening for a woman to enjoy.
After Daryl left Aaron and Eric's house with a stomach full of spaghetti, he ran into Glenn and Maggie walking home.
"Y/N still there?" He asked, gesturing to Deanna's house.
"She left hours ago," Glenn shrugged.
"Alone?" Daryl asked, cautiously. Did one of those pretty Alexandria boys get to you first, or was something wrong.
"I think so. She just wasn't comfortable," Maggie said. "It's gonna take time to adjust, you know."
Time, Daryl thought, was all you had now. Time to build bikes and have dinner at a table and talk to the person you fell in love with.
"A'right, thanks," he said as a goodnight and headed to your house.
He climbed the few steps up to your door and saw the window blinds were still up. None of you were used to having any kind of privacy, and wanted to see what was going on around you at all times anyway. Before knocking he peeked into the window to see if you were alone. If any of those shiny assholes were with you, making you smile or worse, he didn't know what he'd do. But at least he was prepared for the possibility. The unexpected sight through the glass knocked him on his ass in a different way.
You were sitting sideways on a stool at the counter, nursing a glass of wine, your beautiful legs crossed under a short bunched up skirt, and high heels hooked in the foot rests. You were admiring your own feet, extending your leg out in front of you, letting the shoe dangle off your toes, then reaching down to slide the strap back up your heel. You looked as sexy as you felt.
Daryl was frozen as he felt all the blood in his body rush to one place.
You suddenly felt someone watching you and looked over at the window. You jumped when you saw Daryl standing there staring at you and you quickly kicked the shoes off. He snapped out of it as you ran over to open the door.
"Daryl? You scared me!" You said with a smile, trying to play it cool, like he didn't just see you acting privately ridiculous.
"M'sorry sorry, I just, I wanted, I gotta," he stuttered and stumbled over his words.
"You wanna come in? I found a really good bottle of wine," you asked, to his relief.
He cleared his throat, put his hands in his pockets and bounced his leg to calm himself down, then nodded and followed you inside.
You ran ahead to kick the shoes where he hopefully wouldn't see them and hopped back on one of the stools. Daryl walked over to the stool next to you but didn't sit. He looked over at the shoes, knowing exactly where they were, and where he wanted them to be.
"Why'd you take 'em off?" He asked in that low, gravelly voice that immediately turned you on.
You didn't lie or play dumb. You finished your glass of wine in one gulp and said, "I was just being stupid. Can you please forget you ever saw me in those?" You felt your face burning and concentrated on your empty glass.
"No, I can't forget. Don't wanna either," he confessed.
You looked up at him as every part of you started tingling. His blue eyes were burning into yours. He moved closer, looked down at your exposed legs, and asked, barely above a whisper, "Will you put 'em back on?" He then bit his lip, almost ashamed at what he'd just asked you.
You were silent, dumb-founded. Just as Daryl was about to say nevermind and run out, it was your turn to surprise him by asking "Will you put them on me?"
He spun around to pick the shoes up, then knelt down at your feet. He had no idea what he was doing. He'd never even held a pair of high heels before, nevermind knew how they went on, especially with that strap. But he finally had the chance to be so close to the perfect legs that he longed to touch for over a year. If he could literally worship you at your feet, he'd figure it out as he went.
You held up one pointed foot for him. He slid the right shoe over your toes. As your arch rested against the sole, he realized how to place the strap, just as if he was re-stringing his crossbow. When both shoes were on he kept a hold of your ankle and softly ran his other hand up the inside of your calf. Both of you held your breath as he reached your knee and looked up at you, silently asking if it was OK to go further. You nodded and parted your knees a bit. Daryl stood up and stared you down as his fingers gently advanced up your inner thigh. Just before he got to the soaking wet center of your underwear, he moved to the other leg, this time caressing your outer thigh. He stepped closer to you, in-between your now open legs.
"I've wanted to touch these legs since the day you walked up to that fence," he sighed peacefully as he finally got to hold the object of his desires.
"I would've let you," you said eagerly as you pulled him even closer and pressed yourself against him. "I'm letting you now." You lifted one leg to his waist and he panted as he rubbed all the way up your thigh to your hip.
You reached up to cup his face and bring it down to yours. You moaned into each other's mouths as your parted lips joined. You could feel his chapped lips and the soft wet inside as your mouths joined. When your tongues began to dance, you lifted your other leg, wrapped it around his waist, and melted into him.
You both released a year's worth of pent-up yearning in the kiss. You leaned back against the counter and gasped when you felt his hard bulge pressing into your center. You moaned louder and started grinding against him.
"Daryl? Take me upstairs?" You begged as you looked into his eyes.
He grinned and said, "Only if I can watch you walk up in them heels."
You laughed softly and bit your lip sheepishly.
He released your legs and you hopped off the stool and sauntered across the living room. He followed you but stayed at the bottom of the stairs as you ascended, watching you confidently sway your hips with each step higher. Daryl's leg twitched rapidly as more of the back of your thighs became visible and his cock was straining against his pants. When you reached the landing and looked down at him over your shoulder, he bolted after you, clearing 2 or 3 steps up at a time. When he reached you he pulled you up off the ground and you wrapped your legs around him again. He pushed you against the wall and kissed you deeply.
"You got the sexiest fuckin legs I ever seen," he grunted as he rubbed into you.
"Oh, these old things?" You grinned before capturing his lips again. His grinding became overwhelming and you cried out into his kiss.
"Which one's yours?" He asked, looking down the hallway leading into three bedrooms. You pointed to the closest one. He carried you in and kicked the door shut behind him, then laid you on the bed. He tried to stand up but you locked your ankles together behind his back and held on.
"I'm not letting you go!" You smiled. "I've waited too long for this! Please, Daryl? Can we finally do this? All of it?" You turned serious. "Please stop avoiding me."
"I was never…" He squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself for causing you to think such things. "I don't know how to say things. 'Specially to you. And it kills me cuz I never wanted to say so much to somebody before." He gulped and kept going. "Never loved a woman the way I love you. Never thought a woman like you would want me."
You realized how much he'd confessed before he did.
"You love me?" You asked as tears welled in your eyes.
He nodded and rubbed your noses together. "You don't gotta say it back."
"You think I let just any man between my legs?" He smiled and shook his head, ticking your face with his long dark hair. "I love you, Daryl. But right now, I'm not that interested in talking," you continued, feeling bolder than ever. "So if there's something you don't know how to tell me, can you show me instead?"
"I can do that," he said in a confident, heated voice. He stood up, turned the bedside lamp on, and pulled his vest off. You sat up to help with the buttons but he gently stopped your hand and held it. His eyes turned sad and vulnerable.
"You can leave it on," you said softly.
He shook his head and swallowed hard. "I want ya to know. Just… never showed nobody before."
He released your hand and you both unbuttoned it together. You pushed his shirt open by rubbing your hands across his chest and felt the raised, bumpy scars before seeing them. They stopped you cold, and you suddenly understood a whole lot more about him.
He hung his head and looked down, ashamed. You lifted his chin and pushed the hair away from his eyes. "Don't you ever hang your head, Daryl Dixon."
He huffed appreciatively, humbly, with a faint smile. You pressed your right hand over his chest and wrapped your left around his back, only to feel more jagged lines marking his strong body.
"The back is worse," he said, barely above a whisper.
"You can tell me," you said as you both held each other.
"Later," he said dismissively but assertively before kissing you deeply again. His fingers hurriedly bunched up your shirt to pull it over your head. He tugged at your bra straps too, then pushed down at the waistband of your skirt. His hands roamed everywhere but his mouth never left yours. You shimmied out of your underwear too and kicked off one shoe but he broke away and said, "leave 'em on."
You smiled and stepped back into it. He took a few steps back to look at you as you stood there in nothing but the heels. You felt instantly self-conscious, unsure of what to do with your hands, but Daryl's gaze steadied you. He nearly dropped to his knees to worship you but he willed himself to stay strong and instead asked, "You even real?"
"I'm real," you answered in a voice breaking with emotion. "And I'm yours."
You sat back on the side of the bed and waited for him. He began undoing his belt and jeans as he approached you. The size of his bulge was even more impressive up close. Once he was immediately in front of you he kicked his boots off and pushed his pants and boxers down, finally freeing his extended length. You wrapped your fingers around him and leaned in with your mouth open but he growled, "No."
"I… I'm sorry," you said, taken aback.
"Nah, don't be," he corrected, cursing himself for reacting so harshly. "S'just… I want your body, not yer mouth."
"You can have whatever you want, Daryl," you said in relief. You leaned back and lifted your legs up with your knees bent but still together. You raised your eyebrows and smiled. "I know you like these," you said as you kicked your right leg out to him.
He smirked and grabbed your leg, lifted it straight up, and rested your ankle on his left shoulder, slightly parting your legs. He started kissing at your ankle and caressing up and down your calf and inner thigh, still bewildered that his year-long fantasy was actually happening. His mouth and hands had free reign on the pair of stems that he dreamed about, longed for, and jerked himself to every day and night at the drab, sterile prison you once called home. He pushed your other leg to the side and grazed your folds with his fingers. He worried that his lack of knowledge and experience between any woman's legs would betray him and leave you cold but your quiet little noises turned to prolonged groans. The sight and sensation of Daryl stroking your clit overwhelmed and weakened you, and you dropped flat on your back. He almost drooled at the sight of you splayed out in front of him, willing and begging, gripping his arms tighter with each movement
"Daryl! Please! Now!" You cried. He couldn't wait anymore either. His jaw tightened as he held his cock and started dragging his tip through your juices. You bit your lip and whimpered, then begged some more, until he finally pierced your opening. You held on to his arms as he began to fill you. You both lost control of your voices, filling the entire house with half-finished words, yelps, and groans, the gibberish of ecstasy. You closed your eyes and felt every inch slowly invade your senses, stimulating places throughout your body and being that you didn't even know existed. When you opened your eyes you only saw the curtained windows upside down, realizing you had thrown your head back in the first throws. It was suddenly silent and you looked ahead to see Daryl again. He stood still, fully engulfed in you, his eyes squeezed shut, breathing through his nose like a bull, gripping your ankle as if it was his lifeline keeping him from falling into an abyss.
"Daryl?" You asked hesitantly, almost afraid to pull him from wherever his mind had gone for balance. He opened his eyes and his jaw dropped at the sight of where you were fully joined. He inhaled like a drowning man coming up for air and whimpered as he tried to push into you further, rubbing the top of his groin area against your clit. You cried out his name and he froze again.
"Daryl? Are you ok?" You asked, growing concerned.
"S'fuckin good. So… fuckin good," he said through heavy exhales.
"Come here," you said as you pulled him down over you. He released your leg and knelt on the bed. You wanted to ask if this was his first time having sex but didn't want to embarrass him. He seemed overwhelmed by the stimulation and unsure of what to do or how to move. He was indeed inexperienced but not completely. He'd only been with the only two other women - one paid by Merle to take Daryl's virginity at 15, the other a drunken girl he barely remembered who threw herself at him, then nearly threw up on him when it was over. But you, this, all of it - the connection between you, your survivor's body, your loving gaze, tender motions, and acceptance of a marked-up, middle-aged redneck - it floored him.
You planted your feet on the mattress and lifted your hips, then dipped back down, pulling him out, but not completely. The loss of your tight, heated grip on his shaft spurred him into action. He lifted your legs from under your knees and started rapidly rocking back and forth into you, holding your lower half in the air as he pounded you. You gripped the quilt above your head and watched him fuck you as if he would lose you if he didn't. You knew he wouldn't be able to release his grip on you to bring you to your peak. You reached down to strum yourself with one hand and pinched your own nipple with the other. It only took a minute before you splintered internally and screamed his name. The sight of you pleasuring yourself and coming hard as he took you was too much for Daryl. The force of his heavy thrusts moved the bed on its wheels and knocked it into the nightstand. You felt him begin to sputter as you came down from your high. Despite not having protection, despite your shared risk aversion, despite watching Judith grow up without a mother, nothing on earth could stop either of you from experiencing Daryl finishing your first time together inside of you. It was too late anyway - he didn't have time to pull out before he exploded suddenly and deeply.
You beheld the magnificent sight of Daryl Dixon's moment of pure ecstasy as the muscles and veins in his neck bulged while he leaned his head back and wailed at the ceiling, his biceps flexed to keep your open legs high, his scarred, heaving chest beaded with sweat.
He stayed locked in place as his high ebbed away. When he finally shifted his weight and pulled out, you lowered your legs and rotated to lay with your head on the pillows. You patted the bed next to you Daryl smiled, then joined you. He laid on his side to face you and pulled your left leg up over his hip.
"You really love my legs, huh?" I teased.
"Can't get enough of these," he grinned as he stroked my thigh.
"Do you mind if I take the shoes off now?" I asked.
"Alright. But just for sleeping," he joked. "Ya can't ever get rid of those."
"Never!" I promised.
Thank you for reading!
@littlegodzilla @mariannambl @darylsgarden @minervadashwood @ravenwings73
you will live and you will say the wrong things and make mistakes and people will love you anyways.
Man over the radio: I have one of your friends.
Y/N: Which one?
Man over radio: The annoyingly quiet, growling one.
Y/N: Oh. You have my boyfriend. He’ll be okay.
Man over radio: Now, let’s talk trade.
Y/N: Why? He’s gonna be loose and stab you in three, two—
-Radio silence-
Daryl over radio: Could’a at least pretended to be worried.
Y/N: See you at home.
Daryl, knees cracking as he stands: Fuck.
Y/N: Jesus. Are they gonna glow in the dark tonight?
Daryl: …
Just finished the final chapter Justified and what a whirlwind! ❤️❤️❤️ I am confused as to whether Y/N loved Negan or not. Whether she'd choose him over Daryl or not. Is another story coming? How does this end for Y/N? Sorry for all the questions, I just really loved the fic!
🫶🏻
Thank you for reading it, I’m so glad you loved it!
There’s one more installment coming, I think it’ll wrap it all up nicely and answer all of your questions. So hang in for one more with me!
batter up.
Negan Smith x f!reader
» RATING explicit. 18+ only.
» LENGTH 6,003
» CONTENT Savior!Negan, colorful language, canon-accurate violence, nsfw, smut [v fingering, f receiving oral, unprotected p in v, creampie, cockwarming], various kinks [praise, biting, spit, breeding]
It should have been obvious that batting lessons with him would end up like this.
You’d known exactly what your salacious tone indicated the moment the words had left your lips.
“You ever gonna show me how you swing that bat of yours around, Negan?”
The drawl of his name from your mouth – your fuckin’ mouth like a sailor – ticked his lips upward into an amused smile, eyes regarding you up and down slowly. He leaned back in the chair he sat in, motioning with a finger for you to come closer before returning his attention to the object in question, a wet cloth removing remnants of blood and brains from the wood.
The chill down your spine should have been from fear. That was far from the case.
You were new. Shiny. You’d been alone for an impressive amount of time, and it had ruined your people skills. You were mostly quiet, kept to yourself, carried your weight for the group, and hardly anyone ever needed to talk to you. But when they did – hell hath no fury. You had a sharp tongue and little filter when that pretty mouth of yours did open.
You found yourself in the presence of his laughter often when you spoke. You always got your way. You were quickly his favorite toy.
He wondered – often – about the life you had before everything went to hell in a handbasket. He wondered what job you had, what your damn hobbies were, if you had a husband, maybe some kids runnin’ around. It wasn’t his business. He never asked.
“You ever gonna ask nicely?”
You sat atop the table in front of him, crossing your legs slowly, dramatically, temptingly, relishing in the way his eyes dragged across your legs in the short shorts you’d been wearing in the July heat for a moment as you twisted your upper body toward him, leaning your weight on one arm.
His hand that rested on the surface twitched toward yours.
“I’d love it if you’d be sweet enough to show me how good you are with that bat,” you spoke lowly, eyes burning into his. His pupils blew wider as you spoke each word. You wished you could be close enough to see that each time you spoke. “Pretty please.”
It was a wonder to this new world that he hadn’t fucked you yet.
“Gonna take patrol later,” he began, eyes finding yours once again. With wide eyes and semi-pouted lips you were practically begging him. It was dangerous how he’d give you whatever you wanted. “You can come with me if you promise not to get yourself killed.”
You smiled, fingers sliding closer to his, lightly gliding over the back of his hand feather light. You noticed the hitch in his breath, the temptation to point it out almost too strong to ignore. You opted to give the man before you a pass.
“Guess somebody better keep me safe then, huh?”
“Like you’re not capable of taking care of yourself.”
He knew he’d fallen into some kinda trap when his response brought your signature, mischievous grin. He was perfectly content – at least for the moment – not to even try to climb out.
“Oh, I’m capable,” you responded carefully, flipping his hand over to run your fingers over his palm. His hands were large – much larger than yours – and rough. Battle scarred. It wasn’t the first time you’d fantasized about how they felt. “But sometimes it’s just so much nicer for someone else to take care of you.”
It didn’t take him deciphering a fucking code or something to know exactly what the double meaning behind your words was. His self-control was stretching terribly thin – the thread holding it together would snap soon.
An opening door behind you made you jump back to your feet, removing yourself to a reasonable distance before you were joined by the company. His right hand entered the room a moment after, and you offered Negan another smile before turning to exit. He called a reminder to you before you disappeared.
“Meet me tonight and we’ll go have some fun.”
Whatever his words meant, you were certain the sentiment was true.
“Thought you were standin’ me up.”
He always knew when you approached, even when no one else could seem to hear your footsteps – it sparked curiosity in you to ponder exactly when he’d become so familiar with you, and what else he’d memorized. You dropped down from the wall you walked across directly behind him, boots landing on the ground with a thud.
“That’d be stupid of me,” you replied, circling him to stand in front of him. It was seldom you stood this close to him – the fact that he towered over you only making you want to be closer. “Don’t wanna make the big man angry.”
He caught the subtle shake to your voice and smirked, dimples on full display. Fuck him.
“Smart woman,” he complimented, his voice a little too honey-thick for you to handle. You caught yourself momentarily breathless, his eyes now burning into yours. “Now, I know you took care of yourself real well while you were alone. But tonight, the first rule, you’re with me – and outside you’ve gotta listen. I don’t wanna hear that pretty mouth of yours run.”
You only smiled up at him, looking up into his eyes between your lashes as you blinked languidly, bottom lip pulling between your teeth. You nodded in agreement – he remained transfixed on your lips.
“You’re the boss,” you asserted, zipping up the tattered leather jacket you wore to shield from the night air and offer extra protection against bites. He loved when you pulled the jacket on, and often craved to see you swallowed in his instead. He only smiled at your response – he knew you’d run your mouth at some point still.
“Second rule,” he started, eyes intense. “I don’t want you more than an arm’s length away.”
“My arm length or yours?”
Infuriating. You didn’t even make it through the rules without breaking rule one – and what made it more annoying was the fact he was still amused by it.
“We’ll say yours since they’re shorter,” he replied, reaching to grasp one of your hands and raise your arm upward, stepping closer to demonstrate the distance he desired. You took a step even closer than that – closer would be fine, too.
“Yes, sir,” you replied lowly, tilting your head slightly as you gazed up at him, melting at the feeling of his hand engulfing yours.
He tried to ignore the rush of heat that spread across his body.
“We’re going into the woods. Don’t want you to get lost,” he tried to continue, to ignore the name you’d called him. The feeling that fluttered in his stomach insisted to be acknowledged.
“You big softie. Let’s go,” you replied, turning to face the gate and motioning to the guard to let you through. You turned your head to glance up at him and offer that playful smile again, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Teach me how to be scary.”
“Oh, you’re plenty scary,” he replied as the two of you exited. “Just gonna teach ya how to do it with a bat.”
It was mostly a comfortable silence as the two of you made your way through the thick trees. He didn’t go far – maybe a 2-mile radius was all it took for him to feel the two of you had covered enough ground.
You watched intently, biting at your bottom lip several times as he swung the bat to handle walkers coming your way. By the twelfth one he’d began to show off, pulling his jacket off to reveal the flexing muscles in the arms of his blood-stained white t-shirt as he swung Lucille over his head with a particularly hard landing blow.
You weren’t sure he ever looked sexier than when splashes of red painted his face.
It got easier the longer you went on, the conversation flowing between the two of you – the flirtatious nature always lurking beneath, begging to be unleashed fully. The two of you got so comfortable even talking about your lives before was an option. It all came back to the star – to where you two were now.
“Been with us a few weeks now.”
“Approaching week eight,” you replied, adjusting the strap of the gun you still wore slung over your back. Negan had already remarked that you didn’t need to bring it along.
“Remind me how long you were alone before that,” he feigned a normal amount of interest, though inside he was congratulating himself for finally getting the answers he wanted.
“Eight months, give or take,” your reply caused him to whistle lowly, an appreciative sound. It was impressive to be alone for any amount of time, let alone eight months. You’d been rough when he’d found you – but even he didn’t know just how that time had passed for you. “Stopped keepin’ count.”
“You were alone all winter?”
“Uh huh,” you confirmed, glancing up at him to briefly meet his gaze. He shook his head, huffing out a deep breath as he thought about your words. It had been hell for him from the start – for everyone, really…but you’d been living a different nightmare altogether.
“You’re an impressive woman, you know that?” he drawled, your cheeks heating up over his flirtatious affection. Even as he walked he focused his attention on you – it was too much, and yet just his eyes on you wasn’t nearly enough. “Who’s the last person you were with?”
You paused, but not for long – not longer than an arm’s length.
“Used to be my neighbor,” you replied simply, eyes suddenly focused on anything else. Already Fall, the leaves had long turned their seasonal vibrant shades. There was still some beauty in the world, and you were keen on admiring it as often as the universe allowed.
“He help you when it all went to shit?”
You knew the question was coming, and it still sucked the wind from you, replacing it with a familiar feeling of dread. It was a conversation you’d avoided for weeks now – it was coming eventually.
“He took me when it all went to shit,” you replied simply, stopping in your tracks to pick some ripe berries on a nearby bush. He was intent to watch you work and happy for the break on his feet. “Kept me in his basement. Called me his wife.”
“Jesus, I…”
“Do not apologize,” you snapped, avoiding his eyes now. A hint of blue caught your eye close to the ground and you quickly shined a flashlight, confirming berries were growing on a bush. You motioned with your head to Negan to follow. “He ain’t worth it.”
“You escape then?” he questioned, burying the urge to ask you exactly what being the man’s wife meant exactly – he had some idea. For all the horrors in the outside world, the thought of the horrors you’d faced in a basement for months made his blood boil. It made his skin crawl worse than any walker he’d seen so far.
And he’s seen a lot of nasty ones.
He hoped the world had claimed a piece of shit like that.
“In a manner of speaking,” you replied as you crouched down, picking one of the ripe berries and rolling it between your fingers to test it before popping it into your mouth, savoring the sweetness. As you picked the berries you alternated between pocketing them in a pouch on your jacket and handing them to him. “I killed him one night. Just…had enough. Snapped. Ripped his throat out with m’teeth.”
Yeah. You were definitely his favorite.
Snarling approaching disrupted the conversation, both of your heads snapping in the direction of the sound as you each took a step inward to be closer to one another. Your hand reached out, grasping around his that held the smooth wood of the bat.
“Lemme try this one,” you stated, smiling up at him with a wicked twinkle in your eye that pulled at his heart. He slid the weapon into your hand slowly, watching as you turned on your heel to stalk your way toward the growling, grotesque man – Gary, from the looks of his RadioShack nametag. He was certain he could remember a comic book character or two that had swung their hips as they wound up a bat at their side as you were now.
The first crack of wood against skull had him clapping, looking on with pride.
“There you go,” he encouraged, his voice a tone you were certain you’d only heard him use with you. “Look at ya.”
The second remark was intended to stay mental, but left his mouth as a low, appreciative grumble, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. His steps carried him close enough behind you to intervene if he was needed, and he was close enough now to your back you could feel his breath on your neck.
“Got another one comin’,” he pointed over your shoulder toward the tree line, smiling when you immediately took a step toward it.
“I got ‘er.”
The first under your belt now, you understood the weight of the barbwire-wrapped wood, and the first swing was perfect precise, enough force connecting with its head to send it to the ground. Every swing after that was purely for show – for him. He knew it, and he loved it.
“Atta girl,” he cooed, walking closer behind you again. “Goddamn natural.”
“All done,” you breathed out heavy as you stood straight, admiring your work for a moment before beginning to turn back to him. “Gonna have to get me one of these.”
You had barely turned and finished your words when his hands grasped your face, pulling you in to press his lips to yours hard and desperate – starved. The gasp that slipped from you was muffled by his lips as you returned his kiss just as heavy, clutching to the collar of his jacket with the hand that didn’t hold Lucille.
One of his hands slid to your hip first, pulling you closer to him as his fingers brushed against your jaw, his tongue gliding along the seam of your lips to encourage them apart. As your mouth fell open for him and he tasted you his hand continued downward, grasping your backside and pulling you in closer.
The bulge at his waist was unmistakable, the mere sight of you bloodied and vicious causing his cock to strain in his pants immediately. You released your hold on his collar as your tongue danced with his to slide it downward, cupping the sizable bulge and giving a light squeeze. The groan that rumbled in his chest had you clenching your thighs together tighter, desperate for some pressure of your own.
“Oh, you fuckin’ naughty thing…” he grumbled against your lips, releasing you just enough so you both could catch your breath. He nipped at your bottom lip lightly, pulling a quiet moan from your lips. You felt his cock twitch in his jeans. “Couldn’t help myself, you looked so damn sexy swingin’ Lucille around like that…”
You pressed your lips to his again, eager to show him your appreciation for his continued praise but finding the words didn’t exist in your mind – all that existed was need for him. To your dismay a hearty chuckle rumbled in his chest, his lips curving to a smile against yours.
“Can’t fuck you right here, darlin’,” he cooed, nipping at your bottom lip again out of refusal to outright return your kiss. “Too many dead in these trees. Not the kind of eyes I want on us.”
When you gave his cock another slow squeeze his eyes narrowed as he grunted, his hips thrusting forward to meet your hand for the pressure. Your eyes burned into his as he gazed down at your lips. “We should head back to the sanctuary then.”
“We should,” the hesitation was evident in his voice, the desire making it honey thick and low. His blown pupils and deep breaths combined with that voice let you know everything he really wanted. He leaned forward to press a long, heavy kiss to your lips, his hand sliding to the back of your neck where he caressed you gently. The whine that fell from your lips only made him grin more.
It should have been obvious that batting lessons with him would end up like this.
“‘C’mere, pretty girl,” Negan instructed the moment the two of you were tucked away into his room together, his legs sprawled wide as he dropped onto the leather couch that sprawled across his room. He’d been supporting you with an arm around your waist nearly the entire walk back, through the gates and to his room, your legs shaking just from kissing him.
He took every opportunity the two of you were within sight of someone else since returning to show things had escalated, pressing kisses to your temple, and grasping your waist so tight and so low – friendly behavior was left in the past. He’d even considered pinning you to the fence and fucking you right there – for anyone awake in the middle of the night or on guard to see – but he decided against it.
For now, anyway.
You nodded as you made your way to him, climbing into his lap carefully, your legs straddling his thighs as your arms locked around his neck. One of his hands found a home on your cheek again, cradling it gently as his callused thumb brushed across your cheekbone. You leaned to his affection as naturally as you breathed.
“Did such a good job out there,” he complimented with a lightness to his voice you hadn’t heard before, not even when the two of you had been alone. While there was always something behind his gaze – appreciation, desire, hunger – now it held so many things so entirely new. There was a newfound intimacy to how his eyes roamed your face, searching your own for matching emotions. “Gonna have to take you out with me some more.”
He drank in the smile his compliment earned, breathing out deeply as you turned your head to press your lips to his palm. Your eyes continued to burn into his. “Whenever you ask me to.”
“Oh, you’re not gonna be out of my sight after tonight, sweetheart,” he stated, his tone unwavering and absolute. You believed him. “Attached at the hip.”
“Mm,” you hummed as you pondered his words, eyes raking over his face. One of your hands slid to rest on his cheek as well, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip gently. You were teasing him, merely taunting – he knew. “I don’t remember us talkin’ about that.”
You’d seen this smirk on his face before. Now, as his face inched closer and his breath ghosted over your lips, it sent a flood of arousal straight to your aching cunt – you’d been wet since the kiss in the woods.
“You won’t wanna be away from me after tonight,” he laughed, soft and low as his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you closer to claim your lips in a heavy kiss again.
“Hope you’re prepared to back up all that talk, Negan,” you breathed against his lips when he released you, leaning closer to nip at his bottom lip as you slowly rocked your hips against his waist, grinding your covered, soaked core against the throbbing erection in his pants.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand not holding the back of your head seizing hold on your hip to steady you as you continued to rut against him. His tone was dark, low – much-more desire filled than it had ever been for you. “You need somethin’, pretty girl? Could ask nicely.”
“Need you, Negan,” you whined, grinding down particularly slowly as one of your hands began to work at the zipper of his jacket. “S-so fucking tired of waitin’. Don’t make me beg.”
“Bet you’d sound pretty though.”
You opened your mind to protest but were quickly silenced by another heavy kisses, his tongue immediately seeking yours out for the newfound dance he loved as his hands abandoned their hold on you to start removing your clothes.
He instructed you to stand just long enough to remove your blood-stained pants and t-shirt, his eyes running over your legs and lingering on your thighs and core. He pointed with a thick finger to the bed behind him, rising to his feet to remove his own jacket and shirt as you did what was instructed, sitting on the bed.
You’d figured his room was comfortable – but this was luxury.
“Lemme see,” he breathed in this new husky tone as his shirt was pulled over his head, his muscles flexing as he did so. The scars that graffitied his torso raised more questions – you wanted to ask about each one, press kisses to them, run your fingers on the particularly nasty ones – you’d do that later. For now, you leaned back on the bed slightly, propping yourself up with one arm as you spread your legs for him.
His tongue darted out from his lips as his eyes ran over your soaked core, his steps carrying him closer until he was in front of you, within reach of his hands again. One of his hands ran up the inside of your thigh slowly, the other reaching to push a finger against your chin to tilt your head upward.
“Look at me,” he cooed, cupping your cheek again as he ran two fingers through your soaked folds, spreading your arousal through them more with an appreciative hum. “So wet for me already. Walked back from the woods like this I’ll bet.”
You whimpered lightly as he continued to run his fingers back and forth, breathing out shaky as you nodded up at him, pupils blown wide and lips fallen open. He took advantage of your partially open mouth to slip a finger in, groaning when you immediately closed your lips around it to suck lightly.
He’d waited too damn long for this.
He slipped his index finger into your waiting heat, cock twitching in his pants when he felt your tight walls engulf his finger. A moan sounded in your chest that vibrated around his finger as you swirled your tongue – his eyes seemed to grow darker by the second. When he’d fully sheathed his finger in you he curled it, stroking your soft inner walls as he removed his finger to hear you moan.
“Tight little thing, aren’t you?” he cooed, removing his finger before he pumped it back into you with the company of a second, curling them both to stroke behind your clit. You keened, hips thrusting forward to meet his hand that was soaked with your arousal, head surging forward to claim his lips with your own kiss.
He chuckled against your lips as he began to pump his fingers, ensuring the palm of his hand rubbed against your clit with each re-entry. Touch-starved and desperate your legs were already shaking, your tongue eagerly tasting his mouth. You hardly registered his free hand drop to his own waistband, working his belt and tight jeans free before kicking them to the floor.
The sound of the fabric hitting the ground was your realization, and without freeing him from the kiss you reached between your bodies to wrap your fingers around his long, thick shaft, your thumb rubbing along the pronounced vein. He pulled away from your lips to groan deeply, looking into your eyes with a fire ignited so bright it burned.
Another moan fell from your lips with a particularly hard thrust of his fingers, though it didn’t stop you from removing your hand from his cock to spit on it. Wrapping your hand back around his throbbing length you began to stroke him slowly, grasping with the perfect amount of pressure to cause his eyes to roll back slightly.
“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he groaned, running his nose along your jaw before pressing a kiss beneath your ear. “You – fuck – you keep doin’ that and I’m not gonna be able to taste you. Don’t make me tie those pretty hands up.”
You whimpered and defiantly gave his cock several more strokes before releasing your hold, unwilling to have your hands restricted – the first time with him, anyway. As he sank to his knees on the hard floor in front of you, you drank in the sight, keening when he scissored his fingers inside of you. He pressed a kiss to your knee before he trailed his lips upward, inhaling the scent of your arousal deep into his lungs.
“Negan…” you began to protest slightly in bashfulness, and he only chuckled in response, pressing a kiss high up on your thigh before he gave your clit a gentle lick.
“Hush,” he cooed, removing his fingers from you to run his tongue through your folds slowly with a low, appreciative groan.
You forgot any argument you had intended to present when he finished the swipe of his tongue by flicking the warm muscle against your clit again before sucking it briefly. He savored every moan he pulled from you, how your breath began to become desperate as he fucked his tongue into your wet heat repeatedly, reaching to rub his thumb around your clit repeatedly and fast. He was like a man starved for months in the way his tongue devoured you, alternating between fucking into you and licking slowly to swallow as much of your arousal as he could.
“Good god you taste good,” he complimented from between your legs, pulling back to speak and press a kiss to your clit, then your inner thigh. He nipped at the spot carefully, just enough to bruise. “No fuckin’ way I’m lettin’ this pussy go. No way.”
“Maybe you’ll change your mind when you fuck me,” you managed to stammer out, your voice pitched higher as he reached to rub your clit again, smiling up at you wickedly. You were already glowing for him practically…he couldn’t wait to see you fucked out.
He was torn between wondering if your mouth was still running, he wasn’t doing his job well enough; or if your mouth wasn’t running if he’d even like you anymore.
“Not a chance in hell,” he murmured before slipping his fingers back into you, leaning forward to claim your clit between his lips again with a soft suck.
It wasn’t long before your legs were shaking on either side of his head, clenching harder as the pressure built up in you heavier and heavier, threatening to burst. When he nipped at the sensitive bundle of nerves with his teeth lightly it erupted, your orgasm flooding from you as you moaned loudly. White overtook your vision, heat swallowing you whole.
He removed his fingers to connect his mouth and tongue to you again, savoring as much of the liquid gold that hadn’t covered his face. When he pulled away from you he muttered compliments into your thighs, hips, stomach, and breasts as you came down from the orgasm. He was circling his tongue around one of your budded nipples when your vision became clearer, looking up at you with an adoration filled smile.
You already knew he was right – you would never want to be away from him again.
“There she is,” he cooed, releasing your breast from his mouth to lean upward and press a gentle kiss to your lips – uncharacteristically gentle. It occurred to you now that you were unlocking a side to Negan you decided likely no one had seen since the outbreak.
You tasted yourself on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, now encouraging you to move back on the bed and lay flat. He leaned over you, supporting his weight with one arm so he could continue to stroke your side gently. When he released your lips again, he bit into the bottom one a little harder, a little more desperate and unhinged, much closer to the Negan you knew, before he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
Duality – nothing about Negan made sense and yet everything about him was exactly as it should be.
“Now you can beg,” he whispered against your forehead lightly. You felt his lips curve into a smile. “Just a little. Lemme hear how nice you can be, pretty girl.”
“Negan, jesus christ, not now,” you whimpered, raising your hips to press up into his. It pulled a groan from you but he only grasped your hip tight to steady you. “Please, please not now. I can’t…I can’t wait. Please fuck me.”
And it was a blur of pleases and whimpers then until he was satisfied, your words devolving into moderately incoherent babble as you kissed his neck, his chest, dragged your hands over his torso…you were begging him in every way you could. Finally, he conceded, tilting your head up to kiss your lips again gently.
“C’mere, sweetheart, I got ya,” he cooed, lifting your hips up to slide a pillow under them. He ran one hand slowly down your leg, grasping your ankle to lift the singular leg up over his shoulder. He leaned down to kiss you again, fisting his length before he ran the velvet head through your slick folds.
He groaned as he sank into you, breathing out deep as your warm channel welcomed him home. Your eyes rolled back, quiet moans falling from your lips.
“Holy hell,” he breathed against your lips as he pressed several light kisses to them, resting his forehead against yours briefly as he bottomed out. He stilled for a moment to allow you to adjust to the fullness of him, one of his hands grasping your hip tightly, the other fondling one of your breasts. He couldn’t get enough of you. “Fuck, you feel good.”
He kissed you reverently then, deep and passionate and fulfilling as he found himself enchanted by being inside you finally.
“F-feel so full…” you muttered against his lips, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes already. He pulled back with a final kiss to bump his nose against yours, a light hum rumbling in his chest as he dragged his cock from you slowly before working each inch in again.
“I know, baby, but you’re taking me so well,” he breathed out lightly, ducking his head to kiss down your neck lightly. He began to suck marks into the skin – the more exposed they’d be later, the better. “Look so fuckin’ pretty, too.”
“Negan,” you whined, raising your hips off the pillow slightly, wiggling slightly. He removed his hand from your breast to grab both of your hips, his tongue clicking against the back of his teeth before he bit down onto your shoulder.
“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight,” he groaned as he repeated the slow removal and thrust back into you again, savoring how your walls gripped him with each entry. “I’m gonna wreck you.”
“Please,” was the unexpected reply that filled his ears, and from there, he was insatiable.
He thrust into you hard, heavy, each time slowing enough to ensure the tip of his cock rubbed against the sensitive patch a couple of inches inside of you before he thrusted the rest of the way relentlessly. He didn’t let up – his hips didn’t falter as your walls fluttered around him, his pace consistent and desperate.
When he connected a thumb to your clit and began rubbing circles you felt the tears spill down your cheeks. He keened and raised his head to kiss one of them away, rubbing figure eights on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Negan, t-too much…” you whimpered, legs shaking again. He leaned up and away from your face to kneel, keeping one of your legs over his shoulder. The new angle was deeper, the head of his cock occasionally knocking against your cervix. Each cry it pulled from your chest made his cock throb more.
“I won’t finish ‘til you gush on my cock like you did on my face,” he breathed out, eyes burning into yours with a frenzied look in his eyes. As you whimpered he flicked your clit, turning the quiet sound into a loud scream. It was the brightest smile of the night from him – dimples on full display as an low groan sounded in his chest. “That’s right, baby, let the whole sanctuary know. Scream my fuckin’ name.”
He removed his hand from you to spit on your clit, continuing to grin as you gasped at the cold liquid running down you. He smeared the liquid around before he started rubbing your clit again harder, his thrusts now becoming sloppy and desperate. He was chasing his own release and coaxing you closer to yours – he wouldn’t finish until you had.
You gushed around his cock again while you screamed his name – certain at least one person in the sanctuary would be woken to the sounds of your pleasure in the early morning. The white-hot heat spread over you, blinding your vision, blurring the ceiling and him above you as you shook beneath him.
Even with your walls clenching around him, he held off his own release. Just as you began to come back to him he slung your other leg over his shoulder to join the other, pressing you in half as he leaned over you.
“My turn,” he growled, his words shaking and breathless. “’m gonna fill your little cunt up.”
You were weak, barely coherent – it didn’t stop your body from responding to him, to his assertion. It didn’t stop your walls from fluttering around him. Your nails dug into his back, breaking the skin – you were both certain there would be small trails of blood. He would wear the claw marks with pride.
“That’s right, you want me to fill you up,” he cooed, reaching to press a kiss to your lips again. “Let fuckin’ everybody know who you belong to.”
“D-do it,” you whimpered, moving your head to press a kiss to his jaw. His thrusts became impossibly harder, and only faltered when you pressed a kiss below his ear, whispering in a breathless, husky tone. “Fill me up, daddy.”
A growl ripped through his chest, his lips crashing to yours in a bruising kiss. It only took a few harder, bruising, crippling thrusts before you felt his cock twitch in you. He released you from the kiss to lean his forehead against yours, eyes squeezing shut as he emptied thick ropes of his seed into you.
When he had emptied his full load into you he removed his cock, leaning back to admire the sight of his cum leaking from you.
“There’s still somethin’ beautiful in this world,” he muttered with his shit-eating grin plastered to his face, his hair messy and stuck to his forehead with a thin sheen of sweat. You giggled, returning his smile as you shook your head at his usual bullshit returning.
“Shut up, Negan,” you chastised, rolling your eyes. He only chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again before he rolled you to your side carefully, taking his position behind you. As his arms wrapped around your waist he slipped his still partially-hard cock back into your velvet walls, kissing between your shoulder blades with a smile on his lips as you gasped.
“That’s better, don’t have to worry about a mess,” he mumbled as he tucked his head into your neck, pressing light kisses beneath your ear repeatedly. He was warm, safe – the two of you felt whole together like this.
Inseparable was correct.
“Door ain’t locked…” you pointed out as you began to drift off to the first truly good night’s sleep since the world had gone to hell. His voice filled with sleep and low, he only chuckled before whispering his reply into your skin, his lips brushing with each word.
“I do not care.”
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Early 30s, happily married mom, and also happily obsessed with my TV and book boyfriends. Writing is new for me. Hope you like what you read!
78 posts