#negan drabble

[velvetcloxds]

for a dialogue I don't know if you're still writing for twd but I just read love made me crazy and what about something after that where negan is out of jail and end up saving you when you're in danger or being the only one you ask for when getting hurt?

I WOULD CROSS THE LINE | N.S.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: villian becoming the hero for the person he loves- I couldn't control myself and turned it into a blurb and yes I'm always ready to write for twd- a brief moment where zombies try to eat you but it’s very quick and totally undetailed- ohh also age gap

part one: love made me crazy

It happened too fast, you were always aware when outside the gate, more so after convincing everyone to let Negan come out searching for resources with you, just four of you scurrying about the woods for cans of food you'd never find. You'd never been one to volunteer, much more comfortable organizing things at home but you were losing your mind wondering about Negan in that little cell while were you on the other side with not even a second with him. These little trips were routine, always the same, a few stray walkers that were easy to take down, always finding nothing in the process but things got out of hand too quickly.

Stuck in a room with three walkers, no weapon, nothing but an overthrown cupboard separating you, and without even a second of consideration you called for Negan, pleaded for him and it was like a bolt of lightning struck right through his spine at the shrill sound. He'd never cleared a house so fast, not a care in the world for who was behind him, yelling at him for not staying close, he'd found a knife along the way and the zombies grabbing at you were gone within seconds.

"Y/n," you didn't register the sound, kneeled against the wall, shaking despite your best attempt at staying calm, blood on your clothes and you weren't sure it was truly over. Negan was slow when he moved the wooden frame away, it wasn't an easy task with the dead weight slumped against it, but he wasn't thinking, not a thought going through his mind other than getting you into his arms. "Baby," the gentle tone made you snap back to reality, tremored hands reaching for him before you could register the gesture. "I've got you," he promised and he bit back a surprised puff of air when you launched at him, taking him with you to the ground in the process, holding him impossibly tight as you lingered in his lap.

"You came," you mumbled into his neck, he was cooing softly, hand bushing up and down your back, your arms circling around his neck as you fought against any possibility that he'd let go.- he kissed the side of your head as a promise that he wouldn’t. "You saved me."

"Course I did,” he couldn’t believe your surprise, not that he came, it was more than that, it was revealing a weakness which was something he’d never dreamed of doing, letting people know there was something to hold over him and he couldn’t care less. “Baby,” the word felt foreign a second time, it was deliberate, laced with so many consequences and hidden meanings but he wanted to say it again, a thousand times just to taste it on his tongue. “You okay?” you were, he’d checked before you were in his arms, he had a fleeting moment to do so but the blood wasn’t yours and the scratches weren’t made by the dead, just from the struggle of trying to get safe.

“You saved me,” you pulled away, looking him over, you’d never seen that look before, the concern, the relief at looking at you, you’d always been the one to fuss over getting him an extra blanket or saving him some of your food so he stayed healthy, made sure no one too bad gets put on guard at his cell. He had his moments too though, and would worry about you being on the night shift, or dealing with some idiots letting their egos get in the way but at least you weren’t alone, there was someone to step in if you needed it, someone to keep you safe since he couldn’t. So seeing you like this, scared and seconds away from disaster, made something in him shift. A realization maybe, he was being reckless with you, putting your safety in someone else’s hands when they were more bothered keeping a gun on him than saving you from danger.

“You scared me,” his tone was soft, dipped brows over darkened eyes, the weight of the world drawn black in his irises and you hated being responsible for that. He’d grown hard before you, numb to such senseless emotions like fear and you didn’t want to be the reason he felt it again. You’d wondered if he’d be able to feel, truly feel, what you felt for him yet somehow knowing he could felt worse than thinking he couldn’t. “When I heard you screaming...” he shook his head, cupped your cheeks in his own shaking hands and your fingers were desperate when surrounding his wrists. “Haven’t felt that terrified in so damn long,” his hands fell to your neck, thumbs brushing hair away from the back of your ear.

“I’m sorry,” you didn’t have to apologise, he’d tell you as much soon so you interrupted his thoughts, nodding, pleading for forgiveness. “I didn’t mean to do that, I didn’t mean for any of this,” you didn’t mean to fall for him is what you didn’t say, he heard it even though you didn’t. “Of all the people, it had to be you,” you rested your forehead against his, he sighed, you bit your lip, if only words could describe it, if only the moment could last forever.

“Negan! Y/n!”, Carol’s voice was like a shock to the system, robbing you of your peace, forcing you right back into reality and after the gentlest, purest little kiss placed to you cheek, Negan jumped back, hands in the air in surrender as he stood up.

“In here!” he didn’t look away, gaze stuck on you, taking you in just one more time, making sure, slightly pleased with himself to see your breathing has evened out. “I’m going to change for you,” he promised and you swore your heart stopped, his hands now at the back of his head as if he was preparing to be cuffed. “I’m going to be better, baby, you deserve better,” he shook his head, agreeing with his words, his heart. “Please give me a chance to earn your heart?” you never thought you’d hear him beg, plead for you, your heart something he’s had for longer than you’d ever admit.

“You already have it,” you nearly whispered, footsteps coming closer. “You don’t have to earn it, .”

“Then give me a chance to deserve it, let me be good for you.”

Carol had her gun pointed at him as soon as she came into the room, too busy with him to even take in the dead zombies at your feet or the blood on your clothes, biased, priorities in place. Your priorities were far too different, flinching as she pointed the gun at his head while forcing his hands behind his back.

“He saved my life,” you blurted and the softness in his face was enough to give you whiplash, so different from how he’d looked at her, you were trying to make him human again, to them at least and it was almost as if he was pitying you for having to try so hard. “Carol, he saved my life.”

“I don’t care,” she bit back and your soul ached. “He’s still a monster.”

He’s not, not to you, a monster wouldn’t be kind to you, save you, a monster couldn’t make you fall in love with him. Maybe he was a monster once, maybe he’d changed, maybe he just allowed himself a little too much humanity with you and it ruined everything. You did love him despite all logical reasons, but you did also wish he’d change, not just for you, but for him too, for everyone.

There wasn’t a line he wouldn’t cross for power, maybe this line he’d cross for you, for weakness.

[sinsandsweetness]

Okay- one more Negan prompt idea I thought of while I was at work haha.

Picture this for me- Negan accidentally discovering that you have a real big thing for being choked haha

cw- toxic relationship, suggestive, choking, negan’s a bad guy sorry not sorry, he’s still sexy idc.

You didn’t intend to start a fight. Really. You wanted no part in this whole marriage shit to begin with. So when he confronted you about your attitude after his latest visit to Alexandria, instead of immediately submitting like the other wives do, you held your ground. Arms crossed over your skintight black bandage dress. Seriously impractical stiletto heels digging into the concrete beneath you as you held your head high. You’re not intimidated by him. Sure, he’s got a bat. And an army. And what seems to be the power of a fucking god, but you’re not falling for it. Not the way the rest of the wives are. All shy and timid and teary eyed. No. Not you.

“You rally think you can talk to me like that?” Negan’s teeth are so white they’re hard not to focus on when he’s smirking right in front of you.

“Like what,” your voice is monotone. Unimpressed. Unbothered.

“Like you think you’re above all this. Look at you. You get a warm meal three times a day. A clean bed to sleep in at night. A handsome ass husband who makes sure to provide you with everything you could possibly need.” His smile drops. Dark eyes baring into your own. “Yet you still act like an ungrateful little kid.”

“I just don’t see why you have to take all their-“

“I do what I do to keep you all alive! Is that not enough for you? Questioning the way I run shit?” He interrupts, nose practically grazing your own. The echo of his booming voice bouncing off the concrete walls of his bedroom.

Your heart skips a beat but you still don’t look away. You’re not backing down to this asshole. You have a point. There was no need for this last haul from Alexandria. Nothing they brought back was of any real use. It all went straight to storage. At least the stuff they decided not to toss and burn on their way home.

It made you sick.

You roll your eyes at the realization that you truly have nothing more to say.

“You better fix your fucking attitude, sweetheart.”

“Or what?” You spit. Immediately regretting your little performance when he’s got his hand wrapped around your neck, shoving you up against the wall and tightening his grip.

Your eyes goes wide as you try and suck in a breath. Choking on your gasp while your hand fly to his forearm. Gripping the muscles hard.

Struggling to breathe, you claw at his hand which he thankfully loosens just enough to suck in a breath. But the hold is still there. Firm and warm and with how close your faces are and the look he’s giving you… it’s almost carnal. A heavy cloud of tension circles between you. Way too long of a moment passes where neither of you speaks. A silent confession of your undeniable desire in the way your body just reacted to his aggressive display of affection.

You can’t help the way your heart is racing. Or the way your gaze keeps darting from his eyes to his lips. Swallowing hard as he leans in and presses them to yours. One hand still holding you firmly against the wall while the other goes to your waist, pulling your pelvis forward to meet his. He knew you’d give in. It never took too long once he had his hands on you. Your fingers lace into the locks at base of his neck, deepening the kiss and tracing your tongue over his own. Momentarily forgetting what you were even mad about in the first place, because his lips taste like bourbon and his hands feel like heaven and it never fails to cloud your judgment like no one else you’ve ever known.

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

First Date

kinktober day 29 - semi-public sex

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Summary: You go on a date with Negan and you end up having sex in a bathroom stall.

Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex.

A/N: This is pre-apocalypse. Also, this is a little late because I was going to post it last night but I fell asleep lol.

You struggled to keep quiet as Negan bucked up into you, your heels clinking against the porcelain of the toilet with every thrust he made into you.

You were currently straddling his lap, your feet tucked up behind him on the back of the toilet as he helped you urge your hips over him.

And you were struggling to keep it down as you moaned against his shoulder, the sensation of his cock dragging along your walls feeling amazing as you rocked your hips over him.

"Fuck." Negan sighed, his beard scraping against the side of your neck as he dragged his mouth over your skin. "This is one hell of a first date."

"Shut up." You whispered, your eyes screwing shut as you worked yourself over him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

He just let out a low chuckle before snapping his hips up into you, making you gasp out at the sudden force.

Although your little moment was soon interrupted when you heard the bathroom door swing open, the sound of heels clicking on the floor.

You remained completely frozen on top of Negan as you looked down into the stall beside you. Someone was in there.

But whilst you were trying your best to keep still, Negan had other plans as he continued to slowly thrust up into you, an amused smirk on his face as he dug his fingers into your hips, keeping you in place.

"Negan." You hissed, trying to keep your voice down as you glared at him.

He just grinned at you, quickening his movements slightly as he helped bring your hips down on him.

And somehow you found yourself suddenly complying, allowing him to do as he pleased.

You held your breath as you rolled your hips over him, concentrating on not making a sound. And you had to admit, the idea that somebody could potentially hear you right now seemed to add a certain level of excitement to this.

You bit your lip, a fire beginning to pool in your belly as Negan continued to thrust into you, your ass bouncing against his thighs with every movement.

You only lasted a few more seconds before you were smashing your lips against his in a desperate kiss, an attempt to muffle your moans as you came close to your release.

And when the fire finally exploded, you kept your mouth against his as a wave of pleasure crashed over you.

Negan groaned into your mouth then, his dick twitching inside you before he came.

When you looked down to check the other stall, you realised that they'd gone and you'd been so consumed in your moment of bliss that you hadn't even heard them leaving.

"So." Negan panted, bringing your attention back to him. "Second date?"

[Kinktober Masterlist] [Main Masterlist] [Negan Masterlist]

[cosmic-glow]

+18!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Notes: When you thought you had been kidnapped, you recognize the eyes behind the mask that are watching you. What was he planning?

Warnings: Negan x fem!reader; bad language; use of chloroform (in the reader); kidnapping (everything will be fine, I promise!); reader have a pussy; sex wearing gloves and mask (Negan); masturbation (fem!receiving); use of pet names; NSFW.

Something was coming, you didn't know exactly what, but this feeling had been following you for a few days, getting stronger and stronger. Something was coming to get you. It was as if all the corridors of the Sanctuary had eyes and were watching your every move, some of your things started to disappear, you complained to Negan but nothing was resolved. Someone was setting you up and you knew it.

Confirmation came when when leaving the room shared with Negan, someone covered your head with a cloth bag and held you tight. You struggled and kicked, but apparently it was more than one person, a familiar smell invaded your nostrils: chloroform. It didn't take long for your eyelids to feel heavy, your thoughts fuzzy and you blacked out.

As senses slowly returned to you along with the awakening of your consciousness, you opened your eyes to discover that you had your wrists tied to the headboard of a bed. Unfortunately, not in your bed. You looked around the empty room, noticing that the landscape from the windows was moving, this must be a trailer room. Your legs were still heavy, you tried to untie yourself but it was useless, luckily the rope didn't hurt your wrists. The landscape in the window stopped moving, whoever was driving had parked. Footsteps approached the bedroom door, you prepared yourself as best you could, at least your legs were loose.

Slowly the door opened to reveal a tall man in a heavy dark coat and leather gloves. You could barely see his eyes due to the white hockey mask he was wearing. The man dressed as Jason stood still for a while looking at you, which only irritated you even more.

- Who are you?

He remained silent, his muffled breathing against the mask the only sound in the room. With heavy steps he approached you, his eyes not wavering from you for a second. When he was right next to you, you aimed a kick at him, but before could hit him, he grabbed your leg tightly, not even allowing you to pull back. He forced your leg down again, as he leaned closer to your face, that gleam in his eyes was familiar.

- Do you know what day it is, dear? - he whispered in your ear.

- Negan?

He lifted his mask to reveal a smirk you knew too well, dark eyes with an amused gleam staring at you, delighting in your surprise. Your husband had played a lot of jokes on you before, but never something like this, before you could express your anger at him he spoke again.

- Today is a Friday the 13th, but not just any Friday the 13th, a Friday the 13th in October, the month of Halloween... Can you believe it? - he laughed.

- What the fuck was that, Negan?!

- I already told you before how I like "Friday the 13th", right? It's my favorite movie, so I decided to take advantage of the occasion, after all, it was on Halloween that I asked you to marry me, remember? -a sweet smile appeared on his lips, a passionate look staring at you.

Of course you remembered, the day remained clear in your memory as if it had been yesterday. You loved Negan like you had never loved anyone before, and Negan loved you just as much. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you, you just had to point to what you wanted and that was already yours. He had never disrespected you, and as much as you were furious with this crazy idea of ​​his, you knew he would never have allowed to you get hurt, he never allowed that.

- You know I remember, but the idea of ​​a kidnapping never seemed romantic to me.

- Okay, I exaggerated, but I swear it was for a good cause.

- So can you untie me now?

- Oh, no... - he stood up - ... That's the good cause.

Your husband lowered his mask again, you noticed every movement of his hands to take off his heavy coat, the shirt underneath highlighting his every muscle. Negan ran his hands down your legs and opened them to position himself between them. His hands moved up your thighs to your waist, sending goosebumps all over your body as he leaned down to your face again.

- I want to try something new today - his voice was lower than normal due to the mask.

Negan didn't take long to take off your pants, you now knew the reason for that sparkle in his eyes: it was desire. A desire that was making him hungry, consuming him more with every kilometer he traveled on the road with that trailer so he could be alone with you, so you could scream for him as much as you wanted without worrying about who might hear. To be able to take you like he never did before. Negan ran his fingers over your panties, the leather glove causing friction between the fabrics and making you catch a moan in your throat.

- You complained so much but you seem to be very excited about the idea, don't you, my love? - you knew he was smiling beneath the mask of the state of your panties.

With the same hand, Negan pushed the fabric to the side, making light circles on your clit as he watched how it sent shockwaves throughout your body, the leather fabric was still cold, but began to heat up with the temperature of your body, a heat that was growing and starting to cloud your thoughts, you were brought back when you felt Negan put a finger inside your pussy. The back and forth movements made your breathing hitch, the fabric sliding easier inside you due to your juices, sinful sounds filling the room, his eyes fascinated while moans left your mouth without you being able to control it. You knew you were close when he put another finger inside you and used his other hand to stimulate your clit again, now with faster movements.

- Negan... I... - the words escaped your mind before could finish the sentence.

- You like that, don't you, girl? - he laughed.

The movements became faster, Negan's pants becoming tight with his growing erection with the way you writhed in pleasure, your moans blessing his ears, you called his name like a prayer, his fingers curled to hit that specific point inside you, you couldn't hold on anymore.

- Negan, please! - tears welled up in the corner of your eyes.

- You can come, girl. You can cum on my fingers, my little slut.

With a wave of heat, you came, your entire body becoming lighter, your back lifting from the cushion and throwing your head back with a deep moan, your mind becoming completely empty, making a point of lingering on this feeling. You could feel the sweat on your forehead as you came down from your high, his eyes met yours, you were panting when he slowly removed his fingers from inside you. Negan took off his mask so he could kiss your face.

- Did you know that you look beautiful cumming on my fingers?

- That was so good, Negan - you said, still airily.

- Don't be hasty, darling, I'm not done with you yet.

He returned to the position he was in before, licking the fingers of his glove so he could taste your as he unbuckled his belt, his eyes still boring into yours. When he finished enjoying himself, Negan lowered his mask again, he was just getting started.

Buy me a coffee?

A/N: This is my first time writing explicit NSFW, please be kind!

Sorry for any typos;

October Calendar;

Masterlist

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabbles: Negan Smith- Chocolate Addict

Going out with Negan was a rare occurrence. It was normally once a month if not twice. But not much more then that most months.

They were the equivalent to a monthly date. Just the two of us to be around each other. Sure Negan had other more important things to do. Sure Negan had his wives, but nothing was better then spending time with me

His words not mine.

With each outing Negan would declare something that he just had to find. For the past few years Negan had been talking about how much he missed particular things from before the world filled with raiders, zombies, and assholes. "I was really thinking about that good kind of Mac and cheese. You know the one I’m talking about Y/n." Negan mumbled as we would walk into another abandoned building or house in half-assed desperate search of supplied and such.

The list was an ever growing one changing almost every single time we would venture out by ourselves.one time it had been about the luxury of soft, brand new pillows the memory foam ones. "They just make you sleep the best." Negan would huff as we passed by another set of abandoned homes. "I could really use a new cycle of cooks for my shelve back home." Negan had become an avid reader. Raised brows would catch his eye. "Oh don’t play coy with me Y/n I know you’re in search for the second part of that romantic book you sometimes read at night next to me in bed." I’d roll my eyes and continue the search for yes supplied but also that second book.

Of course he also always never without a doubt complained about not have a pack of cigarettes. Not those were easy to find either. So scavenging we went.

Lucille hanging over his shoulder and a handy shotgun as my side gave us some leeway for walking about just the two of us.

That's when Negan started rambling on about the thing he was in search for today. "I was thinking I haven't had a good bite of ice cream in a long while now." Negan said as we contiuned to walk. "Oh Ice cream was what you were thinking about last night?" I ask him with one brow raised. Teasing him ever so slighty. "And other things babygirl other things." He said sweetly before grabbing me and pulling me close to his side.

"Are you still in search for those other things you've been talking about?" I whisper to him. He nods as we come up on a new section of strip mall we haven't searched before. A gas station sits in front. Negan takes the lead, and I follow close behind. Negan is careful managing to make sure there aren't any zombies hanging around.

Oh FUCK yeah I found them. They've got like twenty left." Negan shouted rather stupidly. The sounds started automatically. The sweeping of feet on the dirty ground, and the sounds of garggling then the running of them towards me.

"NEGAN A LITTLE HELP HERE!" I shouted, I took a few shouts then grabbed onto my knife that was in my back pocket draperatly trying to grab one and kill itv before it killed me. Then the weight of the zombie was gone and his head was bashed in. I watched as Negan repeated his actions.

I stayed on the ground, my heartbeat in my ear and then I felt his hand on my arm. "Are you alright babe?" He asked worry inprinted on his features. I grabbed his hand and he helped me up. "Jesus christ, I don't think… I'm okay I think." I muttered mostyl to myself as I got myself steady on my feet.

From the corner of my eye I saw something. "What else were you looking for honey?" I asked my voice a little hoarse. Neganw as still staring at me. "Why don't we just take a moment and breath yeah?" Negan tried. I shook my head. "What else were you looking for?" I ask again. "I was thinking about chocolate recently, Why?" I shake my head and start to walk away from Negan.

He follows close behind me. "What are you up to babe?" He asks. "Well ice cream isn't really a thing you can find out in the wild, but you know what is?" I ask Negan as I grab at the left over chocolates. "What is?" He asks still very concerned.

"Chocolate Negan!" I giggled. I was smiling wide. "Holy fuckin' shit!" Negan muttered as he grabbed a bar from my hand and unwrapped it shoving it in his mouth. His eyes glew and he moaned around the piece. "Oh fuck! That's fuckin' wonderful." Negan said.

Completed on: 06/12/23

Posted on: 08/08/23

The Wanderers-

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"I don't understand why you even come down here," Negan said, shoving his now empty tray of food away.

You glanced up from the arrow you'd been working on and gave him a questioning look. "Should I stop?"

"What? Hell no!" He shifted closer to the bars and ran his hand over his beard thoughtfully. "I just mean—you were there... for a lot of the carnage. But you come down here and humor me just so I don't have to eat every meal alone. By all rights, you should hate me just as much as the rest of the Alexandria."

You sighed and your hands stilled. "I don't hate you. I know you think that's what you deserve, and maybe it is from some... but not from me." Negan felt a somewhat electric chill run up his back until you pulled your eyes away and returned them to the fletching. "You're paying for what you've done. And despite all that, I see some good in you," you said. "I see how you are with Jude. And with Lydia. And I think even though you won't admit it, you actually are starting to care about what happens to this place..."

"Well, maybe not this place per se, but about some of the people in it. That, I can't argue with, doll..."

Prompt: "I don't hate you. I know you think that's what you deserve." A/N: Happy Wicked Wednesday, babies!

[darylsdelts]

What about angst with Daryl??? I have a bot I made for myself following this thought 💀

Like an argument where things get said, causing silence for a couple of days and then boom! Next time you see him, it’s at the lineup…and then he gets taken…and then we see him again in Hilltop 🥲🥲🥲

(i actually broke my own heart with this one, my bot is so realistic it hurts 😭)

Anon! Drop the link RIGHT NOW!!!

This made my heart drop, I just know my poor boy would be blaming himself for everything.

Immediately after the argument, all Daryl wanted to do was come back to you and apologise in his own way. He wanted to hug you and tell you he didn’t mean what he said… but he didn’t.

He gave you some space, knowing it was probably best for both of you. The next few days were close to hell. Every time he’d see you on the streets of Alexandria he’d stare, hoping for atleast a bit of eye contact to know you were okay but you would just pretend you hadn’t seen him.

Daryl didn’t know that he could feel that sort of pain in his chest, like he was being physically crushed.

Christ, is this what women can do?

From then on he’d assume the worst.

You didn’t love him anymore.

So he’d pretend nothing ever happened, he’d talk to you if it were necessary but otherwise acted like the old Daryl, the one you had met before the spark grew.

Little did Daryl know how badly that hurt you… you were in the same position, you wanted to give him space and assumed he’d come back when he was ready but he never did.

So you assumed the worst.

He didn’t love you anymore.

You went along with Daryl’s act, assuming that’s what he had wanted you to do… but you missed him, you missed your Daryl. The one you had finally managed to break the defences of, the one who was starting to be more open with you but now all of that was gone, it disappeared like it never happened.

It was getting harder to monitor when Daryl was out and when he was within the walls since now he didn’t leave notes for you, but you’d seen him ride out today, seemingly angry about something but you could also tell he was hurting. You weren’t sure what had happened, no one had told you as of yet but some hours later you were sure that Daryl’s absence was something to worry about.

But you never thought it would be this.

You were pushed to your knees, your family lined up either side of you in a small clearing. The back doors of a van opened up, you couldn’t see what or who was in there but there was some commotion… and then loud panting.

You knew… god you fucking knew something happened, you should have spoken up earlier, maybe he wouldn’t be getting dragged out of a van right now, his shoulder leaking blood onto some sort of blanket that had been draped around him.

Fuck, did he get shot?

You lean forward, trying to look down the line of your family to catch Daryl’s gaze.

And after all those weeks, you finally did.

Daryl looked at you through his sweaty locks, his eyes dark and watery with frustration, his eyebrows twitch downwards when he saw you, he saw the fear and concern on your face and all of it was too much, he had to look away or he was gonna throw up from anxiety.

It was torture for Daryl, knowing you were frightened, knowing all of this before him was his fault.

When that asshole, Negan, stuck that damn bat in your face is when he lost all control of himself. Daryl jumped up and smashed his fist into Negan’s jaw, then trying to take further steps to tackle him but he was grabbed and pushed to the ground like a wild fucking animal.

He grunted and squirmed as his hair was pulled, he could hear you crying for them to stop.

“Get off of him! Get off! Daryl, get up!”

Fuck, he was trying to.

Eventually he was dragged back to his place in the line.

He wanted to look over to you but he was so fucking scared now, his heart was beating way too fast and his head was spinning.

He stole a short glance your way and he saw your hands covering your face, palms pushing into your eyes as you choked on your sobs.

He’d done this to you.

You would never forgive him for this.

Daryl just had to sit there, bleeding out from his shoulder as Negan battered members of his family before his eyes, he was sure he’d been the cause for the second death, Glenn. Maybe if he’d just stay put, he could’ve stopped that, he should’ve listened.

“No exceptions”

But he didn’t and it was his fault, he’d have to leave his family, they would never allow for someone like him to live with them now.

Turns out, that was the one thing he didn’t need to worry about, as he was stuffed straight back into the van, apparently Negan wanted to keep him.

Daryl doesn’t know how long he was in that cell for, it felt like years and all he could do was think of you. He was so fucking sorry and he knew he’d never get the chance to make it up to you and even if he did, you wouldn’t want to hear it. Rick wouldn’t want him back in the group but Daryl couldn’t stay here, he’d have to get out and survive on his own, completely.

With some help from one of ‘Negan’s wives’, Daryl escaped, however, his plan of escaping and surviving alone dissipated once he saw Jesus stood in front of him.

He’d come to get him out.

They wanted him back?

Back home?

Surely not.

The journey to hilltop was a fever dream, Daryl was unbelievably anxious, his breaths short, causing Jesus to keep checking on him to which Daryl didn’t reply to. In fact Daryl hadn’t opened his mouth the entire time.

As soon as they arrived at the gates, he could feel his throat closing up.

Were you here? Did you even want to see him? Probably not.

As the gates opened, Daryl kept his head down, following behind Jesus toward one of the medical trailers.

But then he heard his name.

“Daryl?… Daryl?!”

Daryl’s head slowly lifted to the direction of the voice, your voice. You were speed walking, no, now you were running toward him. You slung your arms around him, burying your face into his neck as you cried with… relief.

“You’re here, you’re back, you’re safe… safe now… I’m sorry, I love you so much, Daryl”

Daryl stood as still as stone. You were sorry? He should be the one apologising. You’re glad he’s back? You love him? You still love him.

His heart clenches at the thought.

He feels you pull away, your soft hands holding the sides of his face as your beautiful sparkly eyes look into his own. God he doesn’t deserve this.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Suddenly it all seems to sink in and tears are blurring his vision as he shakes his head slightly, no.

“It’s gonna be okay now, you’re here with me now”

He could feel the life flooding back into him, pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he completely breaks down, hiding his face from the world as he lets out loud, uncontrolled sobs into the fabric of your shirt.

“M-M’s-sorry…. M’so-orry… L-love you so m-much…”

You gently rub his back to soothe him, now realising that your sweet man had blamed himself for everything that had happened.

“Ssshh it’s not your fault… let’s get you inside”

You feel him nod ever so slightly and then you lead him towards barrington house, all whilst trying to stay away from prying eyes of the community.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Daryl”

He didn’t reply with words but agreed internally, however, he meant it differently. It didn’t matter where he was, wherever you were was home and he’s so relieved to still have that.

This is so badly written, I’m sorry! But Tysm for the prompt! This was pretty fun to write.

[ichorai]

sorry ; daryl dixon.

track three of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; daryl dixon x doctor!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; you were on your knees, and daryl was too. he wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

words ; 7.9k

themes ; heavy angst, mild action, doctor au

warnings / includes ; death and violence, negan at his worst, vulgar language, guns/weapons, descriptions of injury/blood, mentions of maggie's pregnancy, negan goes on long ass monologues, poor rick is going Through it, the walking dead s6-7 spoilers (fic starts right at the season six finale), mild sexual dialogue from negan

main masterlist.

Maggie hummed with discontent when you pressed a cold, damp cloth to her forehead. There was a pallid color to her skin, and her temperature was beginning to rise, despite her violent shivers beneath the blanket. The inconsistent, rocking motions of the RV weren’t doing her any favors, either. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you to Hilltop real soon,” you said, feeling mildly guilty that you couldn’t help her more, despite being a doctor yourself. Alexandria was completely out of medical supplies and this was urgent—if Maggie didn’t get help soon… you’d never be able to forgive yourself if something bad were to happen to her or the baby. “Hang on for me, okay?”

The brunette slanted her lips in a tired smile, eyelids heavy. 

Rick knelt down beside you, speaking in a low, comforting tone. “We’re gonna get there. Once we get the medicine from Hilltop, Y/N will fix you right up.”

A small sigh fell from her pale, trembling lips. A thin film of tears warbled over her eyes. She was terrified. 

“Oh, Maggie,” you murmured, gently pulling away the short strands of hair sticking to her face. 

“How do you know?” muttered your friend, gaze trained on the ex-cop. 

“Everything we’ve done… we've done it together. We got here together and we’re still here. Things have happened, but it’s always worked out for us, ‘cause it’s always been all of us. That’s how I know. As long as it’s all of us helpin’ you, we can do it.”

A hot tear meandered down Maggie’s cheek. You nodded gratefully at Rick—he’d always had a way with words that you’d never really gotten a grasp of. 

The next hour passed by slowly. You switched between cooling her head, and helping her drink some water, sometimes just holding her hand and telling her that everything was going to be fine. To take her mind off the pain, she’d asked you to tell her about how you and Daryl met, all those years ago long before the dead began to walk. 

“I’m glad Daryl’s not here right now, because he always tells the story differently than I do. Well, how I remember it, he and his dick brother used to come to a small convenience store near their trailer park. That’s where I worked. I was around… nineteen at the time? Almost twenty. I was just working a couple jobs on the side to pay off my growing student debt. Daryl was twenty-three, almost twenty-four. Merle tried to cozy up to me—and I didn’t have any of that. I told him to fuck right off. And later that night, just as I was to close up, Daryl came by and apologized on his brother’s behalf. He was real sweet, so I—”

“What the bitch?” barked Abraham from the driver’s seat, effectively cutting your story short and rolling the RV to a grueling halt. 

“What?” asked Rick, standing up to look out the window. You followed suit, eyes widening upon the sight. 

More than half a dozen Saviors blocking the road with three of their cars—and all of them holding large guns. A lump formed in your throat, and you cast your worried gaze to Rick.

“We goin’ through?” asked Abraham, jaw set. 

Rick gnashed his jaw together in thought. “No,” he said. “We’ll talk to them. C’mon. Y/N, you stay here, watch over Maggie.”

Teeth worrying into your bottom lip, you nodded, stepping to the side to let the rest of them file out of the RV, their own loaded guns at the ready. 

From inside, you couldn’t hear what the Saviors were saying, but from the smug expression of the one in the center with a hideous pornstache, you knew it couldn’t be anything pleasant for your group. 

Three minutes later, they came back in, all looking a bit disgruntled. Rick, most of all.

“What’s going on?” you asked Carl, placing a hand on his forearm. 

The young man that you were so fond of grimaced, shaking his head and lowering his voice to a whisper so that Maggie couldn’t overhear. “They won’t let us through. Want half our stuff.”

Your breath hitched. At this rate, you didn’t know how long Maggie could last without the proper care and medicine. And Alexandria was running low on supplies as it is—taking away half of everything would put the community in a pretty dire situation.

“Alright, thanks kid,” you told him, trying your absolute best not to cry from frustration, your nose burning with the effort. 

The truck began to pull further away from the Saviors, until they were only but little dots against the horizon. 

“Logrun Road’s a straight shot,” said Eugene, repeatedly tapping his finger against the map spread out across the RV’s pull-out table. 

Next to you, Sasha shook her head. “We want visibility.”

You pursed your lips, craning your neck to scan the small, faded texts of the map. “Can we go down Shelton?”

Eugene hummed in agreement, drawling out in his thick Southern accent, “Golf course, country clubs, sloping terrain—no bum rush from the bogeymen. We’d see ‘em from a good piece. It is a longer trip by a third but we’d get the scenic safety of clear-cut dingles and glens.”

Both you and Sasha stared at him blankly. 

“You’re being serious, right?” asked Sasha.

“As coronary thrombosis,” replied the man across from you, stony-faced. Besides, Eugene was never one to joke around.

Sasha rounded her gaze to you expectantly, waiting for you to explain in normal terms. “He’s serious,” you said. “It’s a longer route, but it’ll be well-sheltered and hopefully keep us hidden from the Saviors. I’ll try to keep Maggie steady until then.”

The two nodded at you, and you pushed away from the table, heading further back into the RV where Maggie and Rick were. She was pale and clammy, but still had enough energy to talk to you, so you took that as a good sign. 

Not even ten minutes later, while you were taking measurements of her blood pressure and body temperature, the vehicle came to another rumbling halt. 

“Bitch nuts,” cursed Abraham, loudly for both you and Rick to hear. 

The Saviors were blocking the road. Again.

You could feel panic seize about your chest, constricting your lungs. The situation wasn’t looking good for Maggie, not one bit—but you couldn’t give up hope. Not now, when she needed you the most. You blew out a shaky breath, absentmindedly wishing Daryl was here with you to give you some comfort of mind.

“We making our stand?” asked Sasha, staring out of the window, where more than a dozen saviors were lined up. 

Carl, ever the fiery one, spat out, “Yeah. We end this.”

The blue of his father’s eyes flashed dangerously. “No. Not now. It’s too dangerous for Maggie. They’ve been waiting—they’re ready. We ain’t. With one of us behind the wheel, and Y/N with Maggie, that’d be five on sixteen. We’re gonna play it our way. How we want it.”

Reluctant, Carl nodded. 

Slowly, the RV started backing away. Three successive, warning gunshots were fired into the air. You could feel a sick, twisted rage curl up within your stomach. 

If Maggie died on your watch—her blood would be on the hands of the Saviors.

You fumbled for another map pinned up on the cork board, eyes roaming over the roads, desperate for another available route. Could they possibly have you surrounded? No—the woods were vast, and the roads were winding—there were so many paths left to take to Hilltop. The Saviors simply wouldn’t have the numbers to stop you.

Wouldn’t they?

The RV came to another stop. This time, there were no Saviors blocking the road, but instead, a line of chained-up walkers. Not wanting to risk damaging the RV by driving through them, the rest of the group filed out to check if the coast was clear. You told Maggie you’d be right back, before hopping out of the RV, lingering by the doorway to narrow your gaze at the restrained walkers.

“That’s Michonne’s,” breathed out Carl, his single eye widening. A lock of her hair was stapled against the center walker’s forehead. 

Horror, as black as tar itself, seeped into your chest when you glanced over to the next snarling form, just to see two of Daryl’s arrows embedded into its decaying stomach. Daryl always retrieved his arrows. Which meant… something had happened to him.

“That’s Daryl’s,” you said, loud enough for Rick to hear. “Oh, no, Rick… they did this on purpose. They knew we were coming this way—!”

Just as Rick was about to cleave his axe into the walker’s skull, ricocheting gunfire crackled into the ground, making the dried leaves flutter up with the sudden force, plumes of dust and smoke flying with each bullet. 

“Get back to the RV! Go!” yelled Rick. You scrambled up the steps and ran to a concerned Maggie, trembling as you carefully hovered over her, in case any bullets pierced through the walls and accidentally hit her. Carl and Sasha began shooting blindly into the woods, having not a clue where all the shots were coming from. Rick surged forward and thrust his axe down onto one of the walker’s rotting arms, effectively leaving a gap open for the RV to drive through. 

The rest of the group rushed inside, and Abraham practically threw himself into the driver’s seat to get the RV moving.

The shots died away after a few minutes. With shallow, inconsistent breaths, you slid off of Maggie, slumping down beside her. She croaked out a question, but it fell upon deaf ears, ringing with static and white noise. A warm tear fell from your burning eyes, and you quickly brushed it away with the back of your palm.

Something happened to Daryl. And it was killing you that you couldn’t help him. That you didn’t even know where he was. 

You looked out the window through a watery film of tears, watching the yellow-green fields pass by in a blur. A quick glance at the lowering sun told you that the group was going to lose daylight soon enough, as well. 

A strange, creaking noise was coming from below the RV. 

“What’s that sound?” said Sasha, worried. 

“Undercarriage could’ve caught a bullet,” replied Eugene. “Could be transmission. Could be nothing.”

Agitated, Rick growled out, “They were firing at our feet. They blocked the road, but they weren’t trying to stop us.”

“They want us in this direction,” you murmured, making his wild gaze swivel to you. You gestured to the map. “Rick, they know we’re coming. They know we wanna go North.”

“Meadows would take us East a piece,” said Eugene, “but we can get back on track on Mayhew.”

It would take too long, you thought. Maggie doesn’t have the strength to carry on anymore.

Shaking her head, Sasha said, “We’re down to a third of a tank—we could top off at the next stop, but it’s risky. We can’t have any refills after that.”

A low moan fell from Maggie’s pale lips as a wave of pain washed over her, moving in and out of a hazy unconsciousness. You were quick to check her temperature, blanching at the fact that she was nearly scalding to the touch. You quickly placed the damp cloth to her skin again, trying your best to keep her temperature down.

“Rick, she’s burning up,” you told him, voice thick with worry. 

It was then that the RV came to another stop. 

This time, there were more saviors—around three dozen, maybe even four.

“Go back,” said Rick, eyes wide and stress evidently painted across his strained features. 

Abraham squared his jaw. “We have nowhere to go back to.”

With a shaky breath, you stroked Maggie’s head, your heart shattering into millions of pieces. “I’m sorry, Maggie,” you said, a sob bubbling in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—I wish I could do something, I’m sorry.”

Disoriented and not having heard a word of your apologetic babbling, Maggie croaked out, “Are we there yet?”

More tears slipped down your cheeks. Rick was by your side, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on Maggie’s arm. You stifled your sobs with your palm, and Rick replied in your stead.

“Yeah, Maggie. We’re—we’re getting there.”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered lethargically. “Were there… I heard shots.”

Rick’s expression softened. “Yeah, the Saviors—they’re gone now. We’re gonna get you there.”

A ghost of a smile tilted the corner of Maggie’s lips up. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay,” you told her, sniffling. “The baby’s going to be okay. This isn’t the end.”

“There’s more,” agreed Rick. “There’s gonna be more, I promise.”

A beat of silence. 

“I believe in you, Rick,” she hoarsely said. Maggie’s gaze slowly moved from Rick to you. “In both of you.”

Maggie was asleep again. You made sure to give her plenty of water and what was left of the antibiotics you had saved—but that was the very last bit of supply you had. There was little else you could do for her other than getting her to Hilltop for the proper medicine and treatment she needed.

“So what’s the play?” asked Abraham. “They’ve cut us off every turn we made.”

“She needs medicine,” said Rick, desperation lacing each word. “She’ll die without it.”

“We only have two plausible routes North from here. They’ve cornered us,” Sasha whispered, gaze trained on the map.

Hopelessness laid uneasy on all of your shoulders. 

“They’re probably waiting for us right now,” said Aaron.

Eugene gritted his teeth. “So, they’re ahead of us. Heck, probably even behind us. But they’re not waiting on us, per se—they’re waitin’ on this rust bucket. They don’t know the moment-to-moment occupancy of said rust bucket. And the sun sets soon.”

“We need to leave now if we want Maggie to make it to Hilltop,” you said, voice trembling with a myriad of guilt, anger, and frustration. “We carry Maggie, and we go on foot. Through the woods. They can’t block us there.”

Eugene took the RV in hopes of tricking the Saviors. Everybody else in the group set off into the woods, taking turns carrying Maggie on the makeshift stretcher, bundled under two layers of blankets. The sun had long set, and the whispering winds were cold this time of year. 

“Just let me walk it,” she rasped, voice scratchy and throat dry. 

“No,” you were quick to reply. “You’re in no condition to walk right now, Maggie. It’s only a few more miles. Just rest up a bit more, okay?”

Though she didn’t look happy, Maggie didn’t protest any further, letting her tired eyes slip shut once more. 

After a couple more minutes, Aaron stepped in to carry one end of the stretcher for you, telling you that you also needed to rest your arms for a second. With a grateful nod, you reluctantly let go, falling into stride with Carl.

“Are you okay?” the young man asked, his hand brushing yours, his nonverbal way of saying that he was here for you if you needed him. “I’m sure Daryl and Michonne are fine. They’re fighters. Maggie’s going to be fine, too.”

You sent him a fond, but tired smile. “Yeah, I hope so, kiddo,” you told him, cuffing his shoulder affectionately. The thought of Daryl out there, probably worried sick for you as well, made your stomach twist into knots. “I really hope so.”

It was at that moment, a shrill whistle sounded out from the darkness of the forest. The group halted in their tracks. One by one, more whistles were added to the ear-splitting melody. It sounded like there were dozens, if not a hundred voices surrounding you. 

“Go!” yelled Rick. “Go!” 

The rest of you broke out in a sprint, and you grabbed Carl’s hand, winding around tree trunks and hopping over overgrown roots, ignoring the stinging scrapes of twisting branches against your face. 

The whistling only continued, growing louder, louder, louder—

Until you came face to face with the source itself. 

Car lights suddenly flashed open, momentarily blinding you. You drew Carl closer to you, instinctively protecting him, but it was no use. They had your group surrounded. Saviors, hundreds of them, gathered around you with leering expressions. All of them were clutching guns.

Raw fear curled around your lungs when you saw Eugene on his knees not too far from you, tears dripping down his face. 

Rick looked destroyed. Devastated. 

You were shaking so hard that your knees began to buckle beneath you. 

Finally, the whistling began to dwindle away. 

From the crowd, stepped out a familiar face—the man with a hideous pornstache that stopped the RV on the initial route. 

“Good,” he called out. He swept his arms out in a faux inviting gesture. “You made it. Welcome to where you’re going—because you ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til we’re done with you. We’ll take your weapons.”

When he pointed a gun straight at Maggie, you immediately did as he said, pulling out the pistol wedged in your belt. There was a knife inside your boot, but you weren’t too keen on giving that up yet. You tossed your pistol on the ground just as Abraham threw down his rifle. The rest of the group followed suit.

Trembling, Rick spat out, “We can talk about this—”

“We’re done talking,” interrupted Pornstache. “Okay. Get her down, and let’s get you all on your knees. Lots to cover.”

“She can’t,” you snarled, stepping in front of Maggie protectively. “She’s sick, she can’t—”

“Oh, she’ll be far worse than just sick if you don’t get her on her knees,” the man easily rebutted, eyes roaming over your protective form. 

Lips trembling, you turned around, and with Abraham on her other side, you helped Maggie limp off the stretcher and gently set her down on her knees. Your eyes glistened and warbled with unshed tears. Maggie could only shake her head, as if telling you that it wasn’t your fault.

Terrified, Rick glanced around at the rest of the group. He’d failed you. All of you. 

“Gonna need you on your knees, sweetheart,” said Pornstache, slowly dragging the end of his gun up your cheek with a salacious grin.

With a withering glare, you sank down beside Maggie, Rick on your left side, breathing haggard and lips quaking. Sasha and Abraham followed suit. Carl was the last, fists clenched by his sides. 

“Dwight!” whistled Pornstache. “Chop chop! Bring out the others!”

A blonde man with half of his face horribly marred by what looked to be a severe burn injury, stepped forward, yanking open the back of a truck. 

And, to your horror, he dragged out your boyfriend, covered in blood—blood that you could only pray wasn’t his, even though you knew deep down that that was only wishful thinking. Following Daryl was Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn, equally distraught. 

Daryl caught your eye for a brief second, pure terror within his irises. He looked over you to make sure that you were alright, and you did the same with him, a tear slipping down your cheek.

I love you, you mouthed to him. He dipped his head once in understanding, before forcing his gaze away, not wanting to give the Saviors anymore reason to torture either of you. 

“Maggie…?” Glenn painfully rasped once he caught sight of his wife in such a state. He tried to make his way to her, but the Saviors grabbed his arms and forced him down, guns digging harshly into his back. 

“Alright!” exclaimed Pornstache. “We got a full boat! Let’s meet the man, eh?”

He knocked twice on the door to the RV you were in not even an hour ago. 

The door slowly swung open, squeaking on its hinges. 

And out strode a tall man clad in a leather jacket, a bat covered in barbed wire hanging off his shoulder. He took his sweet time making his way towards the group, feet languidly dragging along the gravelly dirt, and a smirk accentuating his smug expression. 

“Pissing our pants yet?” he drawled, voice tapering into a light chuckle as he stepped out into the light, smiling down at your group on your knees. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re gettin’ close. Mm, yeah—it’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Now which one of you pricks is the leader?”

Pornstache pointed at Rick. “It’s this one here.”

The man with the bat grinned wider, before stepping right in front of Rick, who craned his neck to glare up at him. “Hi there. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killin’ my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people… you killed more of my people. Not cool, man. Not cool. You have… no fuckin’ idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Mmh, yeah. You are so gonna regret crossin’ me in a few minutes. Yes, you are.” A dangerous, wolfish grin flashed across Negan’s face. “You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what—you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you may very well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes—pay attention.”

He lowered his bat off his shoulder and slotted the barbed end right below Rick’s chin. You held in your breath, your entire body wracking with tremors. Though you knew you needed to stop, you couldn’t help but chance glances at Daryl every so often, your concern for him rapidly growing. Some of that was his blood, it had to be—his eyes were sunken with exhaust and his chest, the very chest you would fall asleep on every night, was rising and falling unevenly, making you believe he was hurt, but you just couldn’t see what was hurting him. 

“Give me your shit… or I will kill you. See? Simple as that.” Negan pulled the bat away from Rick, and began walking around the group as he spoke. “Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That’s your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow. But swallow it, you most certainly will! You ruled the roost. You built something, Rick. You thought you were safe, I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged—more pegged if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. If that’s too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door… you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us? And we will knock it down. You understand?”

Rick swallowed heavily. Narrowing his keen eyes, Negan cupped his ear and leaned down closer to the kneeling man. 

“What? No answer? You don’t really think that you were going to get through this without being punished, now, did you? I don’t want to kill you people. I just wanna make that clear from the get go. I want you to work for me—and you can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growin’ a garden. But you killed my people—a whole damn lot of ‘em! More than I’m comfortable with, honestly. And for that… for that you’re gonna pay.”

Your hands curled into fists on your knees. You knew what was coming. And you’d be damned if you were going to let it happen.

“So, now… I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.” Negan inhaled sharply, as if he enjoyed prolonging the torture. He bent down once more, showing off the barbed bat. “This right here—this is Lucille. And she is awesome. All this… all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor!”

Negan stopped in front of Abraham, who straightened and glared defiantly at the smirking man. In thought, Negan subconsciously rubbed his bearded jaw with one hand at the sight of Abraham’s own mustache. “Huh. I gotta shave this shit.”

On he strolled, before halting in front of Carl. “You had one of our guns. Hm. You got a lot of our guns.” Carl only scowled at the man. “Shit, kid. Lighten up. At least cry a little.”

Chuckling, Negan moved on. 

You could feel one of your eyes twitch when you saw his shoes stop right in front of you. His bat was beneath your chin in an instant, forcing you to look up. The sharp metal on the bat painfully scratched against your jaw, and fresh tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“My, my, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t you? What’s your name, darlin’?”

Hatred simmered within your chest, but you forced your expression to remain indifferent.

You quietly told him your name, wincing when his bat dug deeper into your neck and he ordered you to say it louder. You repeated yourself, voice cracking. A single tear meandered down your cheek and slid down your chin, dripping onto Lucille.

Negan hummed, nodding in satisfaction. “Now that’s what I want to see, folks! A little emotion around here—Y/N’s got the gist of it!”

“Kill me,” you gritted out, making the rest of the group’s eyes widen. You could feel Rick’s stare burning holes straight through you, but you refused to meet his gaze, staring straight up at Negan. “You can kill me. Just don’t hurt them. Let them go. Maggie, on my right, she’s real sick and she needs medicine—if she doesn’t get the proper treatment soon, she’ll… she’ll…”

The man in front of you barked out an amused laugh. “She’ll what?”

“She’ll die,” you snarled. “So kill me. Get it over with—and let them go.”

And for a split second, you let your eyes return to Daryl, one last time. He wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that Negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

But it was all futile. He noticed anyway. 

He followed your gaze over to Daryl, lowering his bat to gesture between the two of you. 

“Ah… you two are a thing, ain’t ya? Damn. And here I thought you were available for takin’, sugar.” Negan tossed his head back and chuckled with mild disappointment. “God, look at you bein’ all heroic, offering yourself up for the chopping block! No, no, darlin’, this ain’t a game of who gets to be a martyr and save their friends. You don’t decide what’s happening here. I do. You think I don’t know you’re the doctor of the group? My people have been reporting to me—they know you’ve been the one taking care of Little Miss Sickly over there. No… you’re far too valuable for me to kill. We need more people like you, darlin’. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bash in your pretty little face, now, would I?”

With a hum, Negan stepped away from you, fixing his gaze upon Maggie.

“Jesus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now—!”

“NO!” screamed Glenn, scrambling onto his feet and lunging at Negan. Before he could even begin to make contact, Dwight grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, threateningly shoving Daryl’s crossbow into his face. 

Maggie cried out—both from a fresh wave of pain seeping through her bones, and from the sight of her husband being dragged back to his spot like a ragdoll. 

Huffing out a sigh, Negan grunted out, “Nope. Nope, nope, get him back in line.”

Glenn screamed, choking back a sob. “No… don’t. Don’t!”

Negan could only smile. “Alright, alright, listen. Don’t any of you do that again—I will shut that shit down, no exceptions! First one’s free—it’s an emotional moment. I get it. Mmh. Sucks, don’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit.”

Rick trembled violently beside you. Tilting his head, Negan glanced between him and Carl, realization dawning upon him when he noticed the physical similarities between the two.

“This is your kid, right? Ohoho, that is definitely your kid!” 

“JUST STOP THIS!” yelled Rick, so sudden that it made you flinch.

Equivalent in volume, Negan bellowed back, “HEY! Do not make me kill your little future serial killer! Don’t make it easy on me! I gotta pick somebody—everybody’s at the table waitin’ for me to order, hm?” 

The man whistled out a shrill tune, one that sent a shiver dance down your spine. 

“I simply cannot decide. But I got an idea.” With that, he pointed the bat at Rick. “Eenie.”

He moved to you, before narrowing his eyes, and skipped over to Maggie. “Meenie.”

Abraham. “Minie.”

Michonne. “Mo.”

Glenn. “Catch.”

Daryl. “A tiger.”

Rosita. “By.”

Eugene. “His toe.”

Sasha. “If.”

Aaron. “He hollers.”

Carl. “Let him go.”

And so on he went. 

My mother told me to pick the very best one. And you… are… it.

Your heart dropped when the end of his bat stopped in front of Abraham. 

No. No… no… no…

“Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start! You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doin’ that!” 

And with that, he swung the bat back and brought it clean down on Abraham’s head.

Screams erupted from around you. You could feel your vision blur over with your tears, and you closed your eyes shut, not wanting to see such a gruesome sight, curling in on yourself as you listened to the repeated, sickening squelch of Negan’s bat repeatedly hitting your dear friend. Negan gloated and laughed and jeered. You cried and sobbed and flinched with every strike.

His blood—Abraham’s blood—splattered on your face. You could feel it. 

Warm, moist, and thick. Dripping down your cheek. 

“You guys… look at my dirty girl!” proclaimed Negan, jutting out the bloody bat for all to witness. The monster of a man tilted his head at Rosita, whose eyes were horrified and bloodshot, dripping with fat tears. “Sweetheart… lay your eyes on this!”

When Rosita began to cry harder, Negan hummed. “Oh, damn. Were you… were you guys together? That sucks. If you were, you should know—there was a reason for all this. Red—and damn if that isn’t a good name for him—he just took one, or six, or seven for the team! So take… a damn… look.”

Rosita refused to move her gaze from Abraham’s mutilated corpse.

And, much to your horror, Daryl growled out as he surged forward on his feet, landing a clean punch against Negan’s jaw. You screamed out his name when three Saviors grabbed him and beat him back onto the ground, pinning him tightly against the gravel. A sob wracked through your frame and you could feel your stomach twist into itself. Daryl was still struggling against them, clutching his side as he panted out.

“No!” yelled Negan, clearly furious. “Oh, no. That—is a big no-no. The whole thing—not one fucking bit of that shit flies here!”

Terror clutched at your palpitating heart when Negan shoved Lucille right up into Daryl’s face, smearing Abraham’s blood all over him. 

Dwight strode up and pointed Daryl’s own crossbow against the back of your boyfriend’s head. A sob fell from your lips. You couldn’t watch this—you just couldn’t.

“Daryl,” you cried out, hiccupping through your words. “Negan… no. No, please, don’t! I’ll do anything, please! Not him. Please, not him!”

Amused at your pleading, Negan casted a sidelong glance to you, before grabbing at Daryl’s hair and pulling him upright. “See what you did there, Buckaroo? You got your little partner all upset! Look, they’re crying their eyes out, worried for you.” Negan got back up on his feet. “Get him back in line,” he barked, though his eyes were trained on you.

And in two quick strides, he was back in front of you, gripping your face tightly between his gloved hand. “Look at you, darlin’, all covered in blood. Would it be weird if I say it makes my dick hard as fuck?” You scowled, trying your best to pull your face away from his uncomfortably rough grip. “Ah, ah, ah, sweetheart—your boyfriend here didn’t listen to me earlier. I said the first one was free, didn’t I? And what does that mean? Second one’s got a price, hm? I said I’d shut that shit down—no exceptions. I don’t know what kind of lyin’ assholes y’all have been dealing with… but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important! I need you all to know me. Know that I’m not joking around with this shit. Now, if you weren’t a doctor and you weren’t so fuckin’ hot—I would’ve bashed your head to pieces without battin’ an eye! But, lookie here, I’m faced with another dilemma. I need to kill another one of you to get my point across.” 

A wail bubbled up in your throat and you began to claw at Negan’s fingers now painfully squeezing your jaw. “No… please, please… don’t, please—!”

“And I want you, darlin’, to pick which one of your little friends I kill.” 

“No!” you spat, breathing shallow and panicked. “Me—just kill me, Negan—you don’t have to hurt anyone else, please, please, let them go, you—”

Getting irritated with you, Negan shook your face until you stopped blubbering. “You’re not listenin’ to me. Pick. Someone. Not you, and not your little boyfriend. I want him to live with the fact that one of his friends died because of him. Pick someone. Anyone, sweetheart. You’ll be doin’ em a favor, honestly. They get to save the rest of you from a miserable death! Now, doesn’t that sound appealing?”

A beat of silence. Negan stared you down, and you glared right back.

“Eat my shit,” you snarled out.

Narrowing his eyes, Negan finally relinquished his hold on you. You gasped for breath, chest heaving, stabilizing yourself with your hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you’re feisty! Might have to keep you around after this—holy fuckin’ shit. Mmh, alright… fine, then. Since you won’t pick—I’ll just have to kill your precious patient’s boyfriend, hm?”

Before any of you could react, Negan spun on his heel and arced his bat through the air, right onto Glenn’s head. Again, and again, and again.

A piercing scream echoed across the forest. Maggie’s scream. 

Your mouth dropped open as a silent cry scratched down the sides of your throat. 

Glenn was still alive, somehow, after all those bashes. Blood caked his entire skull and part of his head was caved in—to your nauseating horror, one of his eyes had come out of its socket.

“Buddy, you still there?” exclaimed Negan in astonishment, bending down to inspect his handiwork. “I just don’t know… seems to me like you’re tryin’ to say something! But you just took a hell of a hit! I just cracked your skull so hard, your eyeball popped right out! And it is gross as shit!”

After all that, Glenn managed to slur out, “Maggie… I’ll find you.”

Sobs rang throughout the clearing. The rest of the group cried tears for Glenn—without him, all of you would’ve been dead three times over. 

“Awh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys,” said Negan. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I did say… no exceptions!” 

With that, he brought down his bat again. Over, and over, and over.

Maggie cried so hard her voice started to give out. 

Daryl, your beloved Daryl, flinched with every stroke of the bat, his eyes red and puffy with tears. You could see it already—the guilt behind his gaze. He thought it was his fault Glenn was killed.

You shut your eyes again. 

“Lucille is thirsty! She’s a vampire bat!” proudly declared Negan, as he swung one final hit on Glenn’s long-dead body. “What? Was the joke that bad? Tough crowd, huh?”

“I’m gonna kill you,” whispered Rick once Negan was done. Rick had blood splattered all over his face, as well. Abraham’s blood. Glenn’s blood. 

Negan squatted down beside him, tilting his head. His bat was dangerously close to you. “What? I didn’t quite catch that, Rick. You’re gonna have to speak up.”

Squaring his jaw, Rick drew in a sharp inhale. “Not today… not tomorrow… but I’m gonna kill you.”

Negan sucked at his teeth. “Jesus,” he softly said. “Simon. What did he have? A knife?”

Pornstache raised his brows. “He had a hatchet. An axe.”

Snorting, Negan shook his head. “Simon’s my right-hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without ‘em? A whole lot of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh… or did I…”

The man waved the bloodied bat in front of Rick’s face, taunting him. 

“Sure, yeah. Give me his axe.” Pornstache handed Negan the small weapon and Negan smugly slid it into his belt. Suddenly, Negan grabbed the back of Rick’s jacket and yanked him up, practically dragging him by the scruff towards the RV. Your breath hitched, wanting to stop him, but all the guns trained on the backs of your friends made you freeze. All you could do was lower your head and stave away your raucous sobs. 

“I’ll be right back, folks! Maybe Rick will be with me! And if not… well, we can just turn these people inside out, won’t we? I mean… the ones that are left!”

They were gone for hours.

During those hours, part of you wanted to go to Maggie, comfort her, check if both she and the baby were alright. No doubt she was in a tremendous amount of both emotional and physical pain. The other part of you wanted to go to Daryl, curl up in the safety of his arms and cry into his chest. 

But you couldn’t do either. Not with the Saviors pointing the barrels of their rifles to the back of your skulls. 

The sun was already beginning to rise, tinting the sky a sweet, soft shade of blue. A stark juxtaposition to the dark red blood steadily drying on the rocky ground.

When Rick got back, Negan ruthlessly threw him down in front of the group. He looked exhausted. More than that—he looked dead inside. The light behind his eyes was gone.

“Do you know what that little trip was about?” asked Negan. 

Rick looked around wildly, as if making sure that everyone else was alright. 

“Speak when you’re spoken to,” Negan hissed.

Begrudgingly, Rick bowed his head. “Okay… okay.”

Negan wolfishly grinned, though there was a dark glimmer to his irises that you misliked. “That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you’re still lookin’ at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that’s not gonna work!” Once again, Negan squatted down beside Rick, that smug expression still plastered across the man’s coarse features. “So… do I give you another chance?”

After a moment’s pause, Rick hacked out, “Yeah. Yes.”

Satisfied, Negan clapped Rick on the back, before getting back up onto his feet. “Alright! Here it is, the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone’s last crap day… or just another crap day. Get some more guns to the back of their heads. Level with their noses, so if you have to fire… it’ll be a real fuckin’ mess.” 

You could feel cold metal graze the very top of your temple. 

“Kid, come here,” said Negan, making your heart plummet to your stomach. Rick’s expression shifted to one of pure dread.

Carl didn’t move. 

“Kid… now.” 

With cautious movements, Carl stood up in front of the taller man. 

“You a southpaw?” asked Negan while he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of its loops.

“Am I a what?”

“A lefty,” clarified Negan. 

Carl scowled. “No.”

“Good,” retorted Negan, before grabbing Carl’s left arm and tying the belt around his bicep. “That hurt?”

Gritting his teeth, Carl bit out a negative. 

“It should. It’s supposed to.” Negan smirked, knocking Carl’s cowboy hat off his head. “Alright, get down on the ground next to daddy, kid. Spread them wings!”

Slowly, Carl lowered himself down beside Rick, his cheek pressed flat against the dusty gravel.

“Simon, you got a pen?” 

Pornstache nodded, brandishing a marker from his pocket and tossing it over to Negan. The man uncapped the black pen with his teeth, flashing you a wink and spitting out the cap somewhere to the side. He kneeled down by Carl to draw a straight line just below the junction of his elbow.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “This is gonna be as cold as a warlock’s dick, as if he were hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across your forearm! Gives you a little leverage, don’t it?” 

Stammering, Rick muttered out, “Please… please don’t. Please don’t.”

Negan tilted his head, lightly chuckling. “Me? Oh, I ain’t doin’ shit. Rick… I want you to take your axe and cut your son’s left arm off—right on that line! Now, I know you gotta process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though—I’m gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then your kid dies. Then the people back home die. Then you… eventually. I’d keep you breathing for a few years just so you could stew on it!”

“You… you don’t have to do this,” pleaded Michonne. It was the first time she’d spoken since she got out of the truck. Seeing Carl splayed out in front of her, practically her son, made something inside her snap. “We understand. We get it, we—”

“You might understand! I’m not so sure Rick here does. I’m gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it’s gonna have to be like a salami slice. You remember those, right? Nothin’ messy. I want a clean, forty-five degree cut. Give us somethin’ to fold over. You got Y/N right there to fix him up nice and good. The kid’ll be just fine. Probably.”

Rick was just about losing his mind, rocking back and forth, murmuring incoherently beneath his breath. Sweat dripped down his bloodied face, his hair, mixing with the salty tears leaking from his crazed eyes. 

“Rick. This needs to happen now. Chop, chop. Before I crush the little fella’s skull myself.” 

Swallowing down his sobs, Rick choked, “It can—it can… it can be me. It can be me. Wh… you… you could do it to me. I c-can go with—with you.”

Negan smiled at his desperation. “No. This is the only way. Pick up the axe, Rick. Not making a decision is a big decision, let me tell you that. You really wanna see all these people die? Because you will—if you don’t PICK UP THE FUCKING AXE!”

Rick began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh, my God,” said Negan, pulling at his face wearily. “You gonna make me count? Okay, Rick—you win. I’ll start counting. Three!”

“PLEASE!” screamed Rick. “IT CAN BE ME. PLEASE!”

“Two!” Negan kneeled down and slapped a sobbing Rick across the face, before grabbing his cheeks, not unlike he did with you hours before. “This is it, Rick. Make a decision. One!”

With a gut wrenching scream, Rick’s trembling fingers curled around the handle of his axe.

“Dad…” whispered Carl. A tear slipped down your cheek as the events unfolded in front of you. “Just do it.”

Rick cocked his arm back, seconds away from bringing it down to cleave Carl’s hand off. 

But Negan grabbed Rick’s wrist at the very last second, stopping him.

The man smirked, pleased with himself. “You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?”

Frantically, Rick nodded his head. 

“SPEAK WHEN YOU’RE SPOKEN TO! You answer to me. You provide for me!”

“I’ll provide for you!” cried Rick.

“You belong to me! Right?” hollered Negan.

Hiccuping a sob, Rick bobbed his head. “Right.”

“Now that… that is the look I wanted to see.” Negan grabbed Rick’s axe from him and stepped away. “We did it. All of us, together. Even the dead guys on the ground! Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure! Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope for all your sake… that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you before… that is over now.”

Negan clapped his hands together, sighing out in relief. 

And strangely, you were slightly relieved, as well. Maybe he was done. He wasn’t going to kill any more of you. This was all over for now. 

Right?

“Dwight,” said Negan. “Load him up.”

To your shock, Negan pointed Lucille straight at Daryl.

“See, he’s got guts. Not a little bitch like someone I know,” Negan told Rick. “I like him. He’s mine now. You still wanna try something? Not today, not tomorrow? I will cut pieces off of… what’s his name?” 

“Daryl,” said Pornstache.

“Wow. That actually sounds just about right. I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep! Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me.”

“No…” you croaked out, when Dwight grabbed your boyfriend and dragged him back to the truck as if he were a wild animal, crossbow pointed at his chest. Maggie sobbed from beside you. “No, Daryl… please, no, don’t—please don’t take him from me!” you cried. “Please, I need him… Daryl!”

Negan smiled down at you. “Mmh. Alrighty, then. I’ll take you, too. Come on.” 

A gasp lodged in your throat when he suddenly grabbed your arm and yanked you upwards. 

“No, wait, I’m the only doctor they have, they need—Maggie needs m—!”

“I don’t give a rat’s flying blue ass,” growled Negan, shoving you in the direction of the truck, where Daryl watched you with wide, scared eyes. You craned your neck around to look at Rick and Maggie and the rest of the group—your family—one last time, unsure of when, if ever, you’d see them again. “You’re mine now. Got a whole lot of shit you can do for me, that’s for sure, darlin’. Load ‘em up!” 

One of the Saviors pushed you into the truck just as Negan yelled out, “Welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! I’ll leave you a truck. Keep it—use it to cart all the crap you’re gonna find me. We’ll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then… ta-fuckin’-ta.”

You collapsed straight into Daryl once you were inside, thundering sobs spilling from your lungs. He wrapped his burly arms around you, smelling of dirt and blood and motor oil. No words needed to be said. No words could be said.

The both of you had lost so much today. 

And now… you’d lost your freedom, as well.

Daryl began crying into your shoulder, and you could only hold him all the tighter. 

[justsomegdude]

Prisoner!Negan x Gn!Reader

Prompt: “Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you, or shove you off a bridge.” // “Can I pick?”

Warning: Negan.

A/N: I don’t know if you guys actually like these silly things I come up with, but i’m trying to get used to writing so i’m starting small so i can get comfy with writing actual one shots and stories! (my posting patterns will be all over the place as i haven’t gotten used to writing yet!)

You had visited Negan, You were in charge of handing him his meals. Throughout the time of you doing so, you had gotten closer to him. He still annoyed you to the end though.

You and Negan were mostly comfortable with each other, you’ve told each other a lot about your life before the apocalypse. While you were there when he was against your community, it almost felt like you befriended him, understood him.

“Hi Negan!” You enter the room holding a tray with his meal, a wide smile spread across your face. You now stood in front of the bars of his cell.

“Hey, Doll.” He replied, standing up and walking towards the bars to stand in front of you. He looked down at the food, a slight smile tugging at his lips, he seems happy with the meal you brought him. “Can’t believe you still bother to feed me.”

You looked up at him and shifted your weight to your opposite foot. “It’s not a bother.. I actually enjoy it. sometimes.” You went over to unlock his cell, You’re meant to cuff him, but after so long you trust he won’t do anything dumb. You still don’t trust him as a person though. Handing him his food and locking it back up.

“Sometimes? Only sometimes?” He snickered as he took the food with pride and set the tray down on his cot, ignoring it as he walked back up to the bars. His right hand went to hold the bar in front of him, leaning over you the best he can.

“Yes sometimes, you’re only okay some days.” You look up at him, the smile on your face still present. “Somedays I can tolerate you, other days I wanna rip your vocal cords out, most days I want to murder you.” Your smile widened as you obviously joked.

He let out yet another laugh. “Damn doll, you’re kinky.” He looked down upon you, his tongue moving to lick over his lower lip, looking down at your own lips. His body weight shifted forward, closer to the bars. “What about right now?” He asked.

Your glance looked down to his lips for a split second before it heads back to his eyes. “Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you, or shove you off a bridge.” You spoke and set your hand on your hip, tilting your head a little.

“Can I pick?” He asked and bit his lip right after, you knew exactly what he wanted to pick. His behavior making it extremely clear. “Because if I were to pick, I’d want a kiss.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’d like that too much though.” You lick your lips and looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. Flirting was common between the both of you, most conversations included it.

He bit the inside of his cheek when you licked your lips. “I would.. but don’t you want to make ol’Negan happy?” His eyes fixated on your lips still as he spoke.

You leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, he didn’t specify where, and you just felt like teasing him. You smiled and put your hands in your pockets.

“You little shit.” He huffed a laughed and looked at his feet, he was touch-starved and you knew that. So teasing him was so much more fun. He looked up at you with one eye squinted, a scrunched up face showed to you. He liked it, and he didn’t, just as you’d hope.

“Hope you enjoy your weekly affection.” Teasing more. It was wrong to feel this way about him, especially from what’s he’s done, but it honestly felt nice.

“I’d enjoy more affection..” He looked down at his feet again, almost like he was embarrassed about yearning for love. You brought your hand up and rested it over his hand, that was still on the bars. He smiled as you had done this, moving his hand to hold yours, holding each others hands after no longer resting them on the bars.

You shared a smile and a knowing glance. He made you feel happy, and you made him feel happy too.

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Until Sunrise | Geralt of Rivia Drabble

Summary: Geralt doesn’t plan on leaving until sunrise. 

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Pairing: Geralt x Reader (Y/N)

Tags: smut, prostitution, bathing, Geralt’s thick thighs, mentions of blood, thigh riding, p in v, sex, unprotected sex, orgasms

WC: ± 1K

A/Ns: Not new to smut, but new to Geralt so go easy 🥴🤣 Hope you enjoy my obligatory bathing Geralt turned smut offering to be accepted into The Witcher fanfic world ❤️

The Witcher Masterlist || Support my Writing Here

“Please, sir, allow me.”

Geralt scoffs to himself under his breath, but loud enough that she can hear it. He’s clearly amused by the very title she’s thrown his way. She knows she’s probably a little more coy than the other whores he’s used to, but that’s exactly how she likes to play it. 

“Do you know what I am?” he asks her, obviously still bemused as a smirk plays on his tempting mouth. 

“Of course,” she agrees, unable to stop the playful smirk from curling across her own full lips as she replies. “But you’re still going to pay me handsomely, are you not?” she adds, a playful glint in her eye as she wades through the water towards the witcher. 

She’s unable to take her eyes off of his broad, thick body, the way the blood soaks into his skin, the way the water ripples and laps against the tight muscles underneath, the slight curl in his pale blond hair as the steam of the bath dampens it. Y/N isn’t sure she’s ever seen a more perfect specimen before. If she thought she was pleased to have been selected by The Witcher when he entered the brothel earlier this evening, she’s even more pleased now she’s alone with him, naked and soaking in a warm bath together. 

Geralt’s eyes seem more golden in this lighting as she gets closer, and he brings his longs arms out to stretch them along the back of the bath, the muscles in his shoulders only bulging thicker, water evaporating from his skin before it has the chance to drip across the broad span of his biceps. 

Y/N reaches for a rag, wetting it in the hot water before bringing it to the witcher’s skin, dabbing at the dried blood staining it, careful to get every drop. A low hum vibrates through his throat and straight through Y/N’s core as he closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath, relaxing into her touch with ease. 

“Is it true what they say about you?” Y/N dares to ask, rewetting the cloth to bring it further across his shoulders, her fingers wrapping around his thick arm, digging into the impressive muscle as her thighs instinctively rub together under the guise created by the water. 

“What do they say?” he asks, his voice low and rumbling in his chest as he speaks, only serving to make Y/N even more desperate to feel him; taste him. 

“That your impressive stamina doesn’t end with fighting,” she smirks, watching as he slowly opens his eyes to look at her. 

He scoffs, staring directly into her eyes for a moment or two, and Y/N begins to wonder if she’s said the wrong thing and overstepped her line. But then a smirk grows wider on his lips. 

“Well I don’t plan on leaving here until sunrise,” he informs her matter-of-factly, before reaching for her wrist and pulling her closer, catching her before she can slip deeper into the water. 

He pulls her into his lap, her legs straddling his thick thighs, having to spread pretty far apart just to accommodate him, but she groans all the same, feeling his hands push into her hair, his large arms trapping her tight against his body. She can feel how hard he already is between her legs, trapped between her pelvic bone and his own. She reaches under the water, her hand seeking him out, her fingers wrapping around his length as she moans louder, realising they don’t even touch thanks to the girth. 

“You just keep on impressing me,” she quips, but Geralt only growls in response, tugging on her hair harder, pulling a whimper from her lips as she bucks her hips against him, her aching pussy dragging back and forth along his hard, muscular thigh. 

Another primal grunt escapes The Witcher as he lifts Y/N with ease, and when he drops her, it’s onto his cock as it sinks deep inside her, stretching her open with a burning pain she welcomes. Y/N moans, throwing her head back, her hair soaking in the hot water, her breasts pushing into his face as the stubble that adorns his chin scratches against her delicate skin. Geralt places chaste kisses to her chest, his teeth scraping over her hardened nipples, his fingertips digging into the flesh on her back as he instantly begins to fuck up into her. 

Y/N takes the brutality; welcomes it even. She’s never felt a pleasure like it, she’s never been fucked so thoroughly in such a short space of time before. Her orgasm is already building deep in her core, climbing higher and higher as her fingernails bite deeper and deeper into the witcher’s chest. 

“C’mon,” he encourages, pulling her down to send himself what feels like impossibly deeper, his cock throbbing inside her as she finally comes undone around him, her pussy clenching rhythmically as her orgasm ripples through every fibre of her body in a constant wave of ecstasy. “That’s it,” he hums, Y/N’s head flopping forward as she slowly begins her descent from the high of her climax back to the very bath they’re in. 

“Who needs stamina when you fuck like that?” she jokes, breathlessly. 

Geralt doesn’t reply, he just stands, lifting her in his arms with such ease that it only makes Y/N feel even more powerless. He’s still inside her, throbbing and filling her like she was made just for him. He carries her over to the bed, throwing her down onto it, and Y/N can’t help but stare up at him, even more in awe now she can see him in his impressive entirety. 

“I’ve already told you, I’m not leaving until sunrise,” he growls, grabbing her ankles to pull her closer to the end of the bed. “And I plan to get my money’s worth.” 

Liked this fic? Want to see more Geralt fics? Please consider leaving me feedback by replying or reblogging :) Feedback is fuel!

[grimesgirll]

the walking dead

daryl dixon

rick grimes

rickyl

negan

gleggie

shane walsh

[vilentia]

Sweet Surrender

Negan Smith x reader

Negan was always a man who knew what he wanted, and he wasn't afraid to take it. As the leader of the Saviors, he had an air of confidence and swagger that drew people to him, whether they liked it or not. And when he met you, he knew that he wanted you.

You were different than the other women he had encountered in the post-apocalyptic world. There was a strength and independence about you that he found irresistible. And though you resisted his advances at first, he was persistent in his pursuit.

He would find excuses to be near you, engaging you in conversation, trying to make you laugh. He would invite you to sit with him at meals, offering you the best of what the Sanctuary had to offer. And as much as you tried to resist, you found yourself drawn to him, unable to deny the attraction that simmered between you.

One night, as the two of you were alone in his room, he reached out and took your hand, pulling you closer to him. His eyes met yours, a smoldering intensity that sent shivers down your spine. And then his lips were on yours, fierce and demanding, taking what he wanted without apology.

You tried to pull away, to resist, but he was too strong, too determined. And slowly, you found yourself giving in to the heat that radiated from him, responding to his touch with equal fervor. He pressed you back onto the bed, his hands roaming over your body, igniting a fire that burned hot and bright.

It was as if he were pouring sugar on you, sweet and irresistible, and you couldn't get enough. And as the night wore on, you found yourself surrendering to him completely, swept away by the passion that consumed you both.

In the days that followed, you found yourself drawn back to him time and time again, unable to resist his magnetic pull. And though you knew that it was dangerous to be with him, that he was a man who demanded loyalty and obedience, you couldn't help but crave him.

For Negan, you were his sweetest addiction, the one thing that he couldn't get enough of. And as he held you in his arms, he knew that he would do anything to keep you by his side, no matter the cost.

[hunterssm00n]

NSFW ! Negan hc's

You need to know your place / cuz it's about to get heavy

*cw include mention of dubcon/noncon, manipulative behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, daddy kink, breeding kink, exhibitionism, mention of degradation, some dark themes* MDNI - 18+

౨ৎ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

this is specifically about season 7 negan btw

this motherfucker

he just thinks he's gods gift to the world. and that's why we love him, right?

his confidence is off the charts. scratch that - he's just straight up cocky

but at the same time, he’s just so damn charming

he’s able to use that charm in all aspects of his life to get what he wants, and that includes in the bedroom

dirty. talk. he’s a master with his words, and he’ll say things that could make a porn star blush

you’re so tight around my cock, baby, you sure you ain’t a virgin? fuck, thats nice

my slice of cherry pie, gonna lick the cream right out of that sweet center of yours, doll

gimme that ass, baby, lemme be the first one to break you in there

i feel like he can be gentle if he wants to be, but most of the time he can be kind of rough- however, not so rough that it’s not enjoyable

this may be unpopular opinion but I feel like he’s average sized down there rather than massive- maybe a little bit above average. but as the saying goes, it’s not the size of the wave that counts, but the motion of the ocean- and he’s got that part down pat

he’s purely dominant, i feel like almost 100% off the time, if not completely. he wants to be in control, and that’s also in every other aspect of his life as well. so that definitely makes sense for the bedroom also

in that same sense, he would not exactly care a whole lot if he's the only one truly consenting... he's not above using manipulation to get what he wants, and sexual favors fall under the above categories (see his harem of wives from the show). he's able to shut off his morality easier than most people, and doesn't always care about many wants far beyond his own. in other words = selfish.

however, this doesn't mean that he only cares about his pleasure; he will give as good as he gets, if not better. plus, what better form of manipulation than a forced orgasm?

his supermassive inflated ego loves when he's complimented, and treated as a figure of authority- it's another kink of his. he would not turn down being called sir in the bedroom

he refers to himself as daddy, and he also loves being called this in bed.

hairy chest, yummm. dark, coarse hair covers most of his body, and when he’s naked it’s like a roadmap of deliciousness

he has a breeding kink, and i’m pretty sure this is actually canon.

he swears a lot as it is, understatement of the year, but during sex he’s downright filthy. he puts a sailor to shame

not quiet at all during sex, he’s constantly talking, cussing, moaning, growling. and that deep voice sounds so hot when he’s in the zone, like spine-tingling hot, good lord

i feel like he would be into degradation, in which case he’s the one doing the degrading. i go back and forth with this one, but i feel like it’s something he would possibly be into although definitely not as much as the comedian

i don’t think he has a favorite position, probably anything that involves him being in control and just downright being inside

he also isn't above some exhibitionism. the bedroom isn't the only place where fun can be had; this can also happen in his rv, in a car with or without his henchmen present, outside in the woods somewhere, in his 'office'- hell, he'll do it just about anywhere if the mood strikes him

once he’s in, fast and hard is his preferred pace. also, his stamina is pretty good, so it will take him a little bit before he cums, which means he can go multiple rounds

aftercare? honestly, as much of an ass as he is, i feel like he’s pretty decent at aftercare. though of course the thing that he’s best at is being a shit-eating grin-wearing pain in the ass.

౨ৎ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

AN: I do not own TWD franchise or any of it's characters. I also do not own the song 'Devil' by Shinedown. The photos above are from pinterest, and have links attached to the original posts.

[cosmic-glow]

Could you write some headcannons about being negan‘s daughter?😄

Notes: I'm terribly sorry it took me so long to write this, but I hope you still enjoy it, good reading.

Warnings: fem!reader; a little angst; Negan being a loving, playful and protective father; SFW.

You are a princess, and that is exactly what you are called among saviors.

Negan is a very affectionate father, with his sarcastic and crazy way.

He could never actually say "no" to you, since you were little he spoiled you, you are his little princess.

He's very protective of you, always has been, but after the fall and your mother's death he became even more so.

Would teach you how to handle weapons and kick anyone's ass that bothered you.

You don't like to remember it but you know that even if he never said it, you were the one who kept him rational and firm to follow after your mother's death, it was a very difficult time for both of you.

And that's one more reason why he's so protective, he can't lose you too.

Negan is really good at reverse psychology and emotion interpretation and all that, so it's hard for you to hide anything from him.

Trust me girl, even when you think you haven't let anything slip he'll have asked at least 3 trusted saviors to make sure you don't get hurt going through with it.

Sometimes when he's alone in the office you go up to him just to gossip about something going on at the sanctuary, like two mean girls talking.

Depending on your age he would joke that you should date Carl or Daryl, just to piss you off. "You could symbolize peace between the groups! We would have a ceremony at the sanctuary, it would be beautiful, dear!"- his eyes glistening with sarcasm.

Oh wait, do you like girls? You're still not free from his teasing, even if you're asexual he'll find a way to annoy you with it.

But actually the idea of ​​someone with you really makes him uncomfortable. I mean he's ok with the idea of ​​you dating, but first he has to scare the person a little bit to doesn't dare hurt you.

When you were little he hummed you to sleep.

He'd let you makeup him, take you to soccer or baseball practice, watch the recitals, the plays, and he was always so proud of you.

But Negan is also the type of dad who would tease you a lot, making silly pranks, jokes and always taking the conversation to the more comical side. The kind who would rather see you sulk than miss the joke.

You know that parent whose child slips and falls and the dad laughs first and then helps? So, is Negan.

As soon as he saw you for the first time and held you in his arms he knew he was more than ready to give you the world if that's what you needed.

Negan made a "list of possible gifts" the Saviors could find to bring you, but you don't know it.

If you're feeling too superior in front of others, he'll embarrass you by saying something like, "Oh, there you are, daddy's big baby!" or "come on, my pretty princess, we're done here!", anything like that just to put you back in your place. After all (for now) he's the boss.

He would talk to you about "business", about how he wants you to fill in for him if something happens, what actions you should take, how you shouldn't truly trust anyone, never bow your head to anyone, and how even though you have to be stern and impetuous at many times, you must never lose your humanity, otherwise all will be lost.

You go on missions, but never alone to places he hasn't been, in fact most of the time you're accompanied, even if you don't realize it.

He knows you're more than capable of defending yourself, he's trained you to, but he still prefers to be on the safe side because he cares about you.

After all, you are his little princess<3

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

Masterlist;

Drabbles Game

[twdxtrevor]

This episode will forever haunt me . . .

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Warnings: mild sexual content, innuendo You rolled over and reached for the watch you kept on the nightstand and sighed when you saw it was already late morning. Negan's hand coursed over your bare back and you shot him a look over your shoulder. "It's late already," you said, replacing the watch.

"What, you got an appointment with the mayor I don't know about?" he asked, his voice deep and soft, laced with pure relaxation.

You laughed lightly and rolled back toward him. His arms wound around you beneath the sheet again. "No."

"Exactly. It's the goddamn apocalypse. What's the hurry?" Negan brushed your hair back and kissed the soft spot beneath your jaw.

"We can't stay in bed all day," you said, closing your eyes at the light touch of his lips and the scratchiness of his beard.

"Listen, babe. I was always a hedonistic creature, but with you around I can barely tear myself from this bed at all."

"You? Hedonistic? With your harem of wives? Noooo," you said sarcastically, shooting him a playful look.

Negan winced and flopped back on his pillow, running his fingers back through his hair and sighing. "They weren't real wives."

"I know," you said quickly.

"Not like—not like she was..." he trailed off softly. Lucille. He'd told you all about her. "And not like you would be. If you ever decide to say yes to me..." he remarked, shooting you a pointed look.

You moved in toward him and draped yourself against his chest. "I know. I was just teasing you. I'm sorry." You leaned up to kiss him. "I know you're not that person anymore," you whispered, drawing back.

"Well..." His arms tightened around you. "I'm extremely hurt that you said that and... you definitely need to come up with some way to make it up to me." One of his eyebrows quirked up and the tiniest smile curved his lips.

You grinned. "Oh, I see. Would staying in bed a bit longer do it?"

"Oh, that'd do it."

You ran your fingers through his hair and bit your bottom lip. "We do have to get up eventually."

"Doll, I'm up right now," he said, laughing.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help laughing too. The man was impossible to resist.

Prompt: "I was always a hedonistic creature, but with you around I can barely tear myself from this bed."