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Bang. Bang. Bang.

 

Your heart jumps into your throat as you spin around to see the silhouette of a tall man striking the metal gate with what looks like a baseball bat.

 

‘Lil’ pigs! Lil’ pigs!’ Comes a deep, gravelly voice. ‘Let me come in!’ The man sings with a playful tone that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

 

It’s your first shift on guard duty after Rick found you lying in the woods, covered in several months worth of dirt, sweat and walker blood, and sporting a bullet wound in the thigh that should have killed you. You still have no idea to this day where it came from. They were the first people you’d seen in almost a year after your group was overrun by walkers back in North Carolina. You’d been on foot ever since, following whatever road happened to be beneath you, grief haven dumped you in a state of utter emptiness. You ate, you drank, you walked, you slept. You ate, you drank, you walked, you slept — barely aware of the time that passed. One day you had ventured off into the woods to avoid a herd of walkers you’d spotted on the road ahead; you’d gone much further in than you knew was good for you — your sense of direction had never been the best. You were lost within an hour of leaving the road behind, and that was when it had hit you. The bullet, driving deep into your thigh. The pain was like nothing you had ever experienced and you blacked out almost immediately. The next thing you had known was the gentle rocking and bumping of metal beneath your body, the purr of an engine, and the murmur of voices somewhere behind you. The following week had passed in a haze of pain and hallucinations. When you’d finally broken through the other side, you’d woken to find yourself lying in a bed — a bed! You’d almost forgotten the feeling of comfort — your leg wrapped in a tight bandage and a gun pointing directly between your eyes. 

 

‘How many walkers have you killed?’ A rough voice had growled quietly. It had taken a few minutes to coax you into a state of consciousness solid enough to answer Rick’s questions, but eventually he had decided to let you stay, and you could not be more grateful. They had fixed you up knowing not even so much as your name, and once you’d proven your trustworthiness, they had settled you into your own house in Alexandria. You instantly became one of their own. But they were plagued by a group that called themselves the ‘Saviors’ led by a heinous tyrant named Negan. You hadn’t yet come across them, but the permanent looks of fear in everyone’s eyes was unmistakable. And today that fear rose like acid in their throats as they now gathered at the gate.

 

Bang. Bang. Bang.

 

‘Come on now, Pricky Boy, Daddy don’t like to be kept waitin’!’ The stranger cooed, pacing back and forth along the length of the gate, swinging the bat lazily at his side. You muster up as much courage as you can, stride towards the gate and start tugging it open, the sharp grating noise ringing loudly in your ears, revealing a tall man wrapped in a black leather jacket, a red scarf around his neck and a sly grin forming beneath his salt-and-pepper stubble as his eyes fall on you.

 

‘Well, well, well,’ the man says, the tip of his tongue tracing slowly across his bottom lip as his eyes roam over you, a hint of something in them that makes your toes curl and your heart beat faster in your throat. ‘Now what do we have here?’

 

Before you have a chance to answer, you hear hurried footsteps growing louder behind you and suddenly Rick grabs your wrist, pulling you behind him with such force that you stumble, almost falling to the ground as your injured leg threatens to give way beneath you.

 

‘Negan,’ Rick says quietly. 

 

So this is the infamous leader of the Saviors. Fear bubbles inside you as you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline racing through your veins, lighting your body on fire and filling your muscles with a strength you’ve come to enjoy since the world turned. It had always been the thing that had stirred you on, given you the will to keep moving. Whatever grief and anxiety and emptiness you felt, this sensation made you come alive and you truly live for it, relishing in the heightened power of your body as the blood rushes to your muscles.

 

‘There you are, Prick! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me,’ Negan pouted sardonically as he swung the baseball bat over his shoulder. You peer around Rick, adrenaline-fuelled curiosity getting the better of you as you feel the animal need to size up your threat. Your stomach drops as you notice the tangles of barbed wire wrapped around the bat now balancing lazily on Negan’s shoulder — Lucille. You spot the faint red of blood staining the sharp metal spikes and feel your mouth go suddenly dry as you remember Carl telling you about Abraham and Glenn. But the adrenaline pumping through you encourages you to step around Rick and join him at his side. Your instincts tell you that Negan is not a man you want to appear weak in front of.

 

‘Everything’s in the back of the truck,’ Rick gestures over his shoulder to the truck loaded with supplies — the injustice of it makes your blood boil and you feel your courage rise with it. But Negan ignores Rick. Instead, his eyes fall once more onto you. He tilts his head back slightly, surveying you with the same mischievous grin as before.

 

‘Now who is this?’ He points Lucille directly at you, throwing his hips forward cockily as he takes a step towards you. Rick’s eyes flit to yours as he steps deliberately between you and Negan. 

 

‘What do you care? She’s no one,’ Rick growls, the menace in his voice immediately giving away his lie. You hope Negan doesn’t pick up the threat in his tone, and to your surprise, he simply laughs, arching his back and swinging Lucille beside his leg. 

 

‘Now let’s not forget who’s in charge here, Pricky Boy,’ he chuckles. ‘You belong to me. That means everything you have,’ he throws his arms wide, gesturing to the whole of Alexandria, ‘is mine,’ he smiles cockily, his eyes growing darker as he treads slowly towards Rick, Lucille swinging loosely by his side, until his face is inches away from Rick’s. ‘Who are you?’ He purrs.

 

Rick’s chin drops to his chest for a moment and he shifts his weight uncomfortably. Then he looks back up to Negan, the fight gone from his eyes as he intones almost mechanically, ‘I’m Negan.’ 

 

‘That. You. Are!’ Negan crows, the skin-crawlingly playful tone back in place, hips thrusting forward as he rests Lucille on his shoulder. ‘So I’ll fuckin’ ask you again, Prick: who’s this lovely young lady you’re so obviously wishin’ to hide from me?’

 

Head bowed, Rick steps aside, allowing you to come into view. He looks up at you from beneath his eyelashes with a terrifying mixture of sadness and fear in his eyes, making contact with yours only for a split second before dropping them to the floor again — long enough to convey what he can’t say aloud: ‘I’m sorry.’

 

‘My name’s Y/N,’ you step forward, standing up to your full height and raising your head confidently as the mixture of adrenaline and hatred for this man, who reduces Rick to a mere shadow of himself with so little effort, courses through your tense muscles. You refuse to look weak. Negan scans over you, slowly and unashamedly taking in every inch of your body - the tight jeans that hug your waist, the loose shirt revealing just a hint of cleavage. You stand your ground, resisting the urge to cover your arms over your chest as he undresses you with his eyes, running his tongue along his bottom lip and sucking it between his teeth before his eyes finally come up to meet yours. His gaze burns right through you with such intensity that it takes everything in you to maintain your stare. A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step towards you. You ignore it and try to channel as much loathing through your eyes as possible, hoping he’ll sense the waves of hatred rolling off of you.

 

‘And where did you come from, baby? I ain’t never seen you here before, and there ain’t no way I’d forget a face like yours,’ he growls seductively, making your skin prickle. He’s inches away from you now, his hot breath tickling your cheek, but you stare resolutely up at him as you reply.

 

‘Rick and Michonne found me a few weeks ago. I was dying, and they saved me. I’ve been recovering in the infirmary, where I’ve been hearing all about the shit you pull around here,’ you spit at him. You watch savagely as Negan’s eyes flash and the smug grin falls off of his face. Mustering as much venom as possible you finish, ‘It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Negan.

 

Something dark crosses his eyes but his face is composed before you’re sure you even saw it, and he steps back, chuckling softly. ‘Well, I think I like you, darlin’,’ he mocks, his deep, gravelly voice dripping with arrogance. ‘I gotta feelin’ you ain’t one to hide what you’re thinkin’, Y/N, and you know what?’ He closes the remaining distance between you in one large stride until his lips are almost brushing against yours. He looks down at your mouth, taking his bottom lip between his teeth before flicking his eyes up to meet yours, ‘I fuckin’ love that in a woman.’ 

 

You’re suddenly aware of how quickly your breaths are coming, your chest heaving as you feel your face flush and your body shiver. You hasten to recompose yourself, embarrassed and disgusted by your body’s reaction to Negan’s closeness. He seems to sense your discomfort and gives you a wink, glancing down at your chest momentarily before turning to Rick. 

 

‘So I’m gonna take this one with me,’ he says imperiously. ‘I’m a wife down now that poor ol’ Sherry’s popped it, and my balls are just achin’ for somethin’ fresh… you know what I mean, Pricky Boy?’ He grins malevolently at Rick, relishing in the anger rising in Rick’s eyes before they fall, defeated, to the floor. His voice is barely more than a whisper as he replies. 

 

‘Please don’t.’

 

Fear bubbles inside of you again as you watch Negan’s eyes narrow. 

 

‘What did you say? I didn’t quite hear ya,’ Negan growls quietly, his voice darkening. Rick meets him with a desperate look on his face. 

 

‘Please, Negan,’ he says, his voice cracking slightly, ‘not her.’ Rick glances at you and you feel your chest constrict as you see the pain in his eyes. ‘Take me instead, I beg you.’ 

 

Negan laughs mirthlessly. ‘Ohh Pricky Boy, you’re not tellin’ me you have some warm ’n fuckin’ fuzzy feelings for this whore now, are ya?’ Rick keeps his head bowed, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. ‘What was that?’ Negan mocks, pushing his face aggressively close to Rick’s and holding his hand behind his ear as he says, ‘Speak up, Prick, nice and loud - I think we all wanna hear about how this lil’ fuckin’ slut here makes your floppy lil’ dick good an’ hard at night!’ 

 

Pure hatred boils inside you as you stare at Negan. You can’t believe the words falling out of his disgusting mouth as you helplessly watch him humiliate Rick right in front of you, in front of everyone, using you as the tool with which to grind Rick into the dirt. You’re just about to run forward and plunge your knife into Negan’s skull — not caring about the hundred bullets that would surely pierce your body before the blade could even touch his skin — when Rick whispers something in Negan’s ear. You strain to hear the words tumbling from his mouth in broken gasps and you spot a tear fall to the ground. Then he turns around and walks away from you, back towards his house without so much as a fleeting glance in your direction. Negan remains rooted to the spot for several moments, the crowd around him silent, waiting for his verdict. A devilish grin that makes your skin crawl spreads over his face as he turns slowly to you. 

 

‘Well, honey, looks like you’re comin’ with me.’

Chapter Text

You wake up to find yourself in total, impenetrable darkness. Silence presses on your eardrums like you’re a hundred feet under water. Your stomach twists with hunger and your throat aches, your tongue rubbing against the roof of your mouth like sandpaper. Your head feels as heavy as your body, a fog obscuring your mind and making your thoughts too hazy to concentrate. You grope blindly around you in the darkness, trying to figure out where you are, but all you feel is cold concrete. Then you hear something in the distance. Footsteps. And whistling — just two notes repeated over and over with a slight pause in between them. The sound makes your insides freeze. The whistler’s steps stop somewhere close to you and the mounting pain in your lungs calls desperately for you to breathe. A long, deafening grating sound fills the silence as a door in front of you opens. Your eyes sting at the sudden brightness now spilling into the room. 

 

‘Hey there, Y/N,’ comes a deep, gravelly voice. ‘Comfy?’

 

Your eyes take several moments to adjust to the light. You look up to see the blurry outline of a man towering over your, balancing something long on his shoulder. Your surroundings slowly come into focus: you’re sat huddled on a cold, concrete floor in a tiny, featureless room barely big enough to lay down in.

 

‘Girl, you look like shit!’ Negan smirks down at you. 

 

‘Fuck you,’ you try to shout, but all that comes out of your dry throat is a course groan barely louder than a whisper. 

 

‘Now darlin’, you may be hot as fuck,’ he growls in that sadistically playful tone, ‘but I can not allow that kinda attitude.’ He takes a step towards you and you suddenly become aware of your pathetically diminished form. His legs are inches from your face and you look up to see his crotch almost parallel with your eyes. You hastily try to shuffle backwards but your back is pressed up against the wall, refusing to yield. Negan chuckles menacingly at your reaction.

 

‘Aw, now honey, you should feel fuckin’ privileged to have my junk all up in your face! Do you know how many women would give their fuckin’ tits to be in your position?’ He coos arrogantly.

 

‘You’re delusional,’ you croak. You try to muster up as much volume as possible in the hope of concealing your fear, but the adrenaline that had rushed to your aid earlier has abandoned your body to a state of weakness you despise. ‘What do you want?’

 

Negan crouches down in front of you, setting Lucille on the floor — you feel a tiny rush of relief — his face now inches from yours. You turn your head away in disgust at his proximity, but he hooks a gloved finger under your chin, forcing you to look straight at him.

 

‘I wanna screw your fuckin’ brains out,’ he whispers slowly, his hot breath brushing across your face and mingling with his intoxicating smell of tobacco, whisky, leather and wood-smoke. You find yourself laughing in his face; the whole idea seems so utterly ludicrous that you’re sure he isn’t serious, that he’s just fucking with you in an attempt to humiliate you in the same way as he did to Rick.

 

‘Go fuck yourself, Negan, I’m sure your arrogant asshole would love that,’ you smirk, imitating his cocky expression.

 

‘Oh darlin’, while my dick is definitely fuckin’ big enough to reach, I think you’d find it much more enjoyable elsewhere,’ he flashes a line of perfect white teeth as he grins at you, his gloved thumb tracing over your slightly parted lips. You feel yourself beginning to tremble and it takes everything in you to fight the fog bearing down on your mind. Your body aches from the fatigue of thirst and hunger and the awkward positioning of your body on the concrete floor.

 

‘I highly doubt it,’ you sneer, desperate to hide the weakness invading your body with every passing second. Negan lets out a low moan, stroking his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue as he gazes down at your mouth, raising goosebumps all over your skin. He leans slowly round to your ear, his teeth grazing your earlobe just for a second. You freeze, your breath catching as your heart leaps into your throat.

 

‘Now that is a shame, Y/N,’ he whispers, sending another shiver down your spine. You’re not sure if this time it wasn’t almost pleasant, but you push the thought disgustedly from your mind before the fog descending over you has a chance to screw with your senses. Then suddenly you’re left feeling cold as Negan stands up, Lucille back over his shoulder, and turns towards the door, the heat of his proximity disappearing and sending emptier shivers through your body.

 

‘I’ll have ‘em bring some food and water to you, doll, don’t want you fuckin’ dyin’ on my ass now, do we?’ He smirks down at you one last time before starting to heave the door closed. ‘I’ll see you in a few days, honey, give you some time to think on my offer.’ He shuts the door with a wink and another flash of perfect teeth before you’re left in total darkness once more.

 


 

 

You don’t how many hours have passed until the door finally grates open again. The light blinds you for a moment before an unfamiliar face comes into view. You know you haven’t seen him before, for it would be impossible to forget the scar that defiles one side of his face, drooping over his eye and mouth. A mess of a long, shaggy blonde hair frames his thin figure. His eyes are empty and expressionless as they avoid meeting yours. 

 

‘Here, eat up,’ the man mumbles monotonously, setting a tray on the floor beside you. He checks quickly over his shoulder before shrugging off his sweater and throwing it at your feet, then backs straight out of your cell, shutting the door and plunging you back into darkness.

 

You reach straight for the tray, trying to work out by touch what you’ve been given. You find something squashy, grab hold of it and shove it hungrily into your mouth, which instantly bursts alive with flavour. Just as you decide it’s a blueberry muffin, you’re gulping the last of it down and reaching again for the tray. You grope around for a moment, feeling nothing but hard plastic, and then your hand collides with something which now rolls across the floor. You reach to grab it and hear the blissful sound of liquid. Fumbling for the cap, you drain the bottle in one go, only to find it was only half-full. Anger and desperation bubbles up inside you and you leap for the door, banging your fists on it as hard as you can and swearing at the top of your voice until your throat is numb and you can’t make another sound. No one comes.

 

You slump back to the floor, pulling the sweater over your head. As the silence presses in on you, you curl up in a ball and start to cry. The reality of your situation hits you like the bullet to your thigh. You didn’t know this Negan guy very well, but you were beginning to see what everyone meant when they said that he always gets exactly what he wants, when he wants it. With food and weapons, you can understand — people do what they need to to survive in this world, and they look out for their own before anybody else. But this? This is just sick. You don’t believe him. For starters, you’ve heard about his collection of wives whose sole purpose it is to fulfil his every filthy, carnal desire, so why on earth would he be interested in you? Secondly, you know his game is to break people, grind them down until they are nothing but a slave to his will, whether by humiliating you, killing the people you care about, or torturing you until you can’t take any more. 

 

‘He’s not going to break me,’ you whisper to the empty cell, swallowing your sobs in defiance. You lay there for an indeterminate amount of time, and eventually your mind wanders to Rick. Surely he will try to get you back? You think back to the last time you saw him, when he said something to Negan before leaving you behind for good. You have no idea what he could have told him but suddenly you feel a hatred burning inside of you, and you despise it. You can’t feel that way towards Rick, the man who saved your life, who welcomed you into his family like an old friend, who trusted you despite knowing next to nothing about you. But he left you to him, knowing exactly who he is and what he’s capable of. Tears roll down your cheeks uncontrollably as your body shakes with renewed sobs. Eventually you fall asleep.

Chapter Text

Several days pass, marked only by the arrival of your tray consisting of a single blueberry muffin and half a bottle of water. Every time the scarred man opens the door, you hurl a tirade of abuse at him, but he just ignores you; he doesn’t even look at you. He says the same thing each time: ‘Here, eat up,’ and then he leaves you to the darkness. You eat and drink your meagre rations ravenously and then you curl up in a ball and wait for the sobs to rock you into a restless sleep. You find yourself wondering why Negan hasn’t come to visit you again. He said he would be back in a couple of days, and you’re desperate to hurl your abuse at him; the scarred man doesn’t deserve your profanities, even if he’s the one enforcing Negan’s torture. 

 

The scene of Negan’s last visit replays constantly in your mind. His arrogance infuriates you but you begin to find yourself thanking him for his restraint. You think over the situation you’re in: alone and defenceless in a darkened cell with no one around to hear you — how easy would it be for Negan to just have his way with you there and then? But he hasn’t, and you can’t help yourself wondering why. What game is he trying to play? You remember the vow you made yourself: he won’t break me. Perhaps he will eventually grow bored of the toy that refuses to play, but a voice at the back of your head laughs at your naivety. Negan always gets exactly what he wants. The only thing you can hope for is that Rick will find a way to come for you before he does. In the meantime, all you have to do is fight whatever Negan throws at you until that day comes.

 

The sound of whistling pulls you out of your semi-conscious reverie. You skin crawls and your stomach twists into a knot as you recognise the tune: the same two notes over and over. The sound of heavy boots clicking on the floor grows steadily louder until they come to a stop outside the door. Silence seems to stretch on for hours as you wait, your heart beating ferociously in your throat.

 

The deafening scrape of the door pierces your ears like a knife, but suddenly a tantalisingly familiar sensation rushes through your body, pulling you out of your stupor and up to your feet. The lethargy of your hunger and exhaustion is flushed from your body by a wave of sweet adrenaline. As the face of Negan swims into focus through the light, you feel your strength return to you as you ball your hands into fists and lunge straight for his temple. Your knuckles collide with his skull, sending a spike of pain shooting up your arm, but you ignore it. Negan stumbles backwards and you see your opening. You dart straight through the gap between him and the open door as fresh air washes over your face, blissfully cool and sweet. Then something hooks around your waist, your feet scrambling to find traction of the floor as you’re dragged backwards and slammed into the wall. Negan grabs ahold of both of your wrists and pins them above your head. You slam your heel onto his foot and he lets out a yelp of pain, releasing his grip just enough for you to slide your wrists out of his hand, but before you can escape, a gloved hand is wrapping tightly around your throat until you’re gasping for air, his entire body pressing you into the wall as he smirks down at you.

 

‘Now that was quite a fuckin’ stunt you pulled there, doll,’ he growls in your ear, his beard tickling gently along your jawline. You try helplessly to wriggle free, but his thighs are pressed against yours with an immovable strength and his torso pins you to the wall so that your arms hang uselessly by your side. The smell of tobacco, whisky, leather and wood-smoke fills your nostrils and makes your head swim as the lack of oxygen releases a fog flowing slowly over your brain. You try to scream but his fingers push against your vocal chords, muffling your strangled cries.

 

‘The more you struggle, the harder it’ll be for you, honey,’ Negan purrs, his lips now brushing against your cheek. ‘Come on now, calm the fuck down.’ 

 

Your efforts begin to subside as the fog descends over you. Just as you think you’re about to pass out, the hand around your throat loosens and a wave of sweet oxygen fills your lungs, pushing the fog from your brain and refilling your aching muscles. 

 

‘Now if I let go of you, do you promise not to fuckin’ deck me again, doll?’ Negan grins, flashing a row of perfect white teeth before gently biting down on his lower lip. He waits for your answer, one eyebrow raised expectantly. You stare right into his eyes with as much hatred as you can muster as you nod once. ‘Good girl,’ he growls, flicking his eyes to your lips momentarily before releasing your wrists and pulling his body away, placing his hands on the wall either side of you, still obnoxiously close. You realise your legs are shaking.

 

‘I’m sorry I had to do that, baby, but I need you to know who’s in charge around here,’ he drools. ‘Darlin’, I don’t wanna hurt you if I can help it, but I just can’t let that shit fly. See, I have rules around here,’ he holds your eyes with an intense gaze that sends that shiver down your spine again. You shake your head, trying to clear it as he watches every thought your face betrays. ‘My people are here because they made a choice. They want to be here, and that’s what I want from you, Y/N.’ He grins, running his tongue along his lower lip as he watches you. ‘Now I was prepared to come to you with an all new an’ improved offer — one I think you just couldn’t refuse — but now…’ he inhales deeply, the smirk falling from his face to be replaced by a look that makes you stomach drop to the floor, ‘… now I’m fuckin’ pissed.’

 

‘Why would I ever choose to be here, to be anywhere near you?’ You say through gritted teeth, desperately trying to quell the shivers running through your body and regain control of your thoughts as your drop your gaze to the floor. His intoxicating smell and proximity make your head swim as though his hand is wrapped around your throat again. You fight to find the hatred you feel for him as you look back up to meet his gaze boring a hole right through you. ‘You keep me locked in that cell, slowly starving me in the hope that I will break. But I won’t break, Negan, not like you broke Rick,’ the venom rises in your voice as you continue, watching Negan’s eyes flash darkly as he hangs on to your every word. ‘You don’t know me. You have no idea what I’ve been through since this all started. You don’t know what I can take.’ 

 

Negan moves his face infinitesimally closer to yours, just enough to make your breath catch in your throat. His smug smirk reappears as he traces his top teeth with the tip of his tongue, drawing your gaze to his lips. You shake your head harder and take a deep breath before you stare resolutely at the gap between his eyes, trying to avoid his intensifying stare as he looks down at you, the cocky expression that makes your blood boil etched all over his rugged features.

 

‘Everyone has a breaking point, darlin’, and judging by the look on your pretty lil’ face, I don’t think it’ll be long before I find yours,’ Negan drools. After a long moment of silence broken only by your rapid, shallow breaths, he steps back, dropping his arms by his side and tilting his head back as he scans you up and down. You stay rooted to the spot, waiting for the blow that knocks you to the floor and the pain he’ll surely inflict on you for defying him.

 

‘Now get back in your cell, doll. You might not see ol’ Dwight for a while. Like I said, I can’t let that sorta shit fly round here,’ he growls, leading you by your arm back through the door. You look around for Lucille, hoping to reach it before he brings it crashing down on your skull. But you don’t remember seeing it when he opened the door. Negan follows your train of thought as he watches your brow furrow in confusion.

 

‘I didn’t think I’d need her today,’ he says, ‘but I can see now maybe I was wrong. I underestimated you, doll,’ he chuckles softly. ‘But I won’t be making that mistake again.’ He smirks menacingly at the expression on your face and shuts the door with a deafening clang, plunging you back into darkness. 

 

You embrace it. It feels safer than the outside world. Negan hadn’t hurt you this time, but you know you won’t get away with something like that again. You begin to think that Rick may never come for you, and you can already feel yourself changing. Negan’s effect on you was starting to scare you. You hated him to your very core, but some sadistic part of you — the part that lived for the rush of adrenaline and the feeling of power it gave you when you were under threat — found yourself enthralled by him. You shake your head for the third time, banishing your thoughts and convincing yourself that sensory deprivation, lack of food and rest, and your continuing isolation are screwing with your sanity... exactly as Negan intends. You can’t give in to him. 

 

But you find yourself wondering what it would be like if you did. You can’t deny that his rugged features framed by his short, salt-and-pepper beard and dark hair, his powerful physique and unbearable arrogance aren’t appealing on an animalistic level. Since the world turned ugly, natural selection had regained control over humanity’s progression; it really was survival of the fittest now. You blame it on your animal drive to survive, the adrenaline that often rules you over reason, and the increasing addiction to danger this world has forced upon you.

 

Time passes without your notice. Your world has shrunk to consist of the sensations forced upon you by your imprisonment: your stomach writhes painfully, screaming for food, and an immovable weight presses down on your body, pushing you into the unyielding concrete floor. You have just enough energy to lift the bottle to your lips whenever the scarred man named Dwight shoves it through the tiny gap he makes in the door. He’s obviously been told not to open it properly after your last escape attempt. You’ve given up hurling abuse at him; you haven’t said a word in days and you begin to wonder whether you’ll remember how to talk. When you’d been wandering alone on the road before Rick and Michonne had found you, you’d kept up a near-constant commentary of your thoughts, desperate to fill the silence around you. But you’d been moving, fuelled by the adrenaline brought on by every walker you’d met along the way. Now you face a new kind of isolation, and you feel yourself starting to crack.

Chapter Text

‘Wakey wakey, princess.’

 

You bury your head further between your arms, tucking your knees into your chest as you stir gently in your sleep, a small moan of annoyance escaping your mouth as something prods your shoulder, trying to bring you back to consciousness. You hold on tightly to you stupor, willing your mind to return to blissful unconsciousness again.

 

‘Aw come on, doll, Daddy don’t like to be kept waitin’.’

 

Your eyes fly open as your brain registers that familiar drool, flashing back to the silhouetted figure banging on the gate outside Alexandria: ‘Come on now, Pricky Boy, Daddy don’t like to be kept waitin’!’

 

‘Ah, she lives!’ Negan cries in his deep, gravelly voice. 

 

‘Leave me alone,’ you whimper into your arms, keeping your head tucked where you won’t be able to see him, but already his intoxicating smell invades you, telling you he’s close.

 

‘So you won’t be wantin’ all these goodies I brought ya, honey?’ You jump, his voice now coming from directly above you. You slowly lift your head out from under your arm but you stay lying down, the energy gone from your body. The door is open just by a crack, allowing a thin sliver of light into the cell, enough to dimly illuminate the man sitting down against the wall beside you, his legs stretched out and his hips just inches from your face. You vaguely consider making a break for the door, but you know he would barely have to lift a finger to bring you crashing back to the floor again.

 

‘Can I have something to eat?’ You ask, barely caring about how pathetic you sound. Something stirs feebly inside you, reminding you not to appear weak in front of him, but every word and movement feels like a mountainous effort so you ignore it. Negan chuckles softly.

 

‘What’s the magic word?’ He drools teasingly. You swallow your pride as your stomach contracts painfully.

 

‘Please?’

 

‘Of course you can, doll! You only had to ask,’ he chimes playfully. The next words are out of your mouth before you can give them a second thought.

 

‘Can I go home too… please?’

 

You’re met with several moments of silence and you know you’ve already pushed it too far. You try to sit up, your head swimming as you straighten your back against the wall. The room starts to spin around you and you slump sideways, sliding down the wall as the fog descends over you.

 

‘Oh fuck… Dwight, get your fuckin’ ass in here,’ Negan calls over his shoulder, his deep voice vibrating through your body. You're unconscious before your head hits the floor.

 


 

 

The smell of cooking stirs you awake. Your stomach groans loudly, aware that food is close by.

 

‘It’s nearly ready,’ a man says quietly. You open your eyes, scanning the room around you. You’re lying on something soft and so unbelievably comfortable that you can already feel the tension in your limbs melting away into the fabric. The waft of chilli reaches your nose and your mouth instantly starts to water. In front of you stands a glass coffee table which has been laid with a plate, cutlery and a napkin. A jug of water complete with ice and lemon sits beside a glass. You swing your legs hastily off of the couch and reach for the jug; ignoring the glass, you drink straight from it. The cool water washes through you like a breath of fresh air and you gulp it down until it’s empty. 

 

‘Want some more?’ The man’s voice comes from somewhere in front of you. It’s gentle and familiar. 

 

‘Yes please,’ you exhale desperately, turning your nose towards the source of the smell of food. Dwight’s scarred face swims into view and his eyes meet yours for a split second before he grabs the jug and fills it up at the sink on the wall opposite you. A microwave stands whirring beside it, emitting the tantalising smell of chilli into the warm air. It pings and Dwight opens it, picking up the bowl and bringing it to the coffee table. You reach quickly for the fork as he spills the contents onto you plate, afraid he might take it from you just to torture you further. 

 

‘Eat it slowly, Y/N, you ain’t eaten in days,’ he mumbles, still not meeting your eyes. He sets the bowl on a mat beside the plate, still half full, and leaves the room without another word. 

 

You start shovelling the food down your neck, ignoring the burn, but after four mouthfuls your stomach starts to protest. You set the food down resentfully and set about exploring your surroundings, the fog now retreating from your body as it starts to come back to life. The room is large and comfortable: several couches line the expansive walls from which unusual works of abstract art hang; at the other end of the room lies an enormous bed, a nightstand sits beside it on top of which lies a pile of books. The couch you’re sitting on stands beside a small bookshelf underneath a large window. A pair of black curtains are drawn across it, the soft glow coming from a number of lamps dotted about the room. You pick up the plate again, unable to wait any longer, and continue shovelling food into your mouth, ignoring your stomach’s protests. You only just finish the plate as the door in front of you opens.

 

Negan stands just beyond the threshold, Lucille balanced lazily on his shoulder and his other hand in the pocket of his jeans, a devilish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

 

‘How d’you like my room?’ He growls, a seductive edge to his deep voice. You can’t seem to move. Your arms hover strangely in mid-air, still clutching your plate. A new kind of fear starts to bubble inside you as you watch him cross the threshold, swaggering slowly towards you with his hips thrust forwards, the devilish grin spreading wider across his rugged features as he watches the cogs turning in your head, trying to figure out what his next move will be. You know one thing for sure: you’re not going home. 

 

‘I’m glad to see I’ve struck you fuckin’ dumb with my presence, doll, an’ I ain’t even naked!’ He mocks cockily, setting himself on the couch opposite you and propping Lucille on the floor beside him. You’re relieved that for now at least the coffee table creates a good distance between you. ‘You’ve got a lil’ somethin’ on your pretty face, honey, want me to get that for you?’ He grins, flashing his perfect teeth, his eyes alight. You drop the plate on the coffee table with a crash and rub the napkin over your mouth, your face flushing furiously. You hate yourself for feeling so embarrassed.

 

‘Why am I here, Negan?’ You snap defensively, attempting to cover your embarrassment by standing up so that for once you’re above him.

 

‘I thought you might be hungry, darlin'! You passed out before I could show you those goodies,’ he leers salaciously. You feel sick. You hate yourself for eating his food, enjoying the comfort of his couch. Every inch of your skin feels tainted by his vile presence. ‘Aren’t you gonna thank me?’ His voice turns darker and he licks his lips slowly as he looks up at you, his eyes falling to your heaving chest as you pant in anger. ‘Ohh doll, I fuckin’ love makin’ you mad.’

 

‘Why am I here, Negan?!’ You shout, at last finding some real volume with which to spit his name. He rises slowly from his couch, staring at you with an intensity that makes your heart pound faster in your chest. You can’t afford to falter now that your strength is finally returning. 

 

‘Goddamn doll, you’ve got some big fuckin’ lady-nuts on you! Am I gonna need to put you back in that cell, let you dry out some more?’ You can’t hide the fear that flickers across your face at his words. You know you won’t be able to come back from it if he sends you back there, certain it will be for an even longer stretch of indeterminate time. ‘Or are you gonna to be a good girl for me and shut up so you can hear my fuckin’ offer?’

 

The fight leaves you as quickly as it came, exhaustion taking its place once more. Fatigue overwhelms you, and to your intense shame you feel tears stinging the edges of your eyes. You drop your head to the floor, trying to hide them and intone monotonously, ‘Can I hear your offer… please?’ Keeping your eyes resolutely to the floor, you hear Negan’s boots walking around the coffee table and coming to stand next to you. 

 

‘Turn to face me,’ he orders, a new commanding edge to his voice that sends an odd sensation running through your spine, coming to rest in your abdomen. Your mind begins to race, unsure what this new feeling is but knowing it terrified you out of your wits. You do as he asks, turning on the spot so that you’re now looking at his boots. Your eyes are drawn to the bulge in his jeans and your heart starts pounding in your ears, the sensation in your abdomen suddenly quivering. You look hastily away, focusing instead on one of the paintings on the wall, but you can’t see it. Your mind becomes a battlefield. Adrenaline pumps through your veins but instead of flowing to your muscles, preparing you to fight, you find it flooding to your groin. You’re suddenly slave to your body’s reactions and the sickness in your stomach at the thought of Negan is replaced by a sadistic animal desire. Tears start to roll down your cheeks as you fight desperately for your sanity, terrified of the path that this side of you is trying to drag you down. 

 

‘Why don’t you clean yourself up, doll. Not gonna lie but you stink of that fuckin’ cell,’ Negan growls quietly. ‘Bathroom’s through that door there,’ he gestures to a door next to the painting you’re staring at; you hadn’t spotted it before. You don’t wait to be told twice. ‘But hurry back now, darlin', my balls are achin’,’ he calls after you with a mocking laugh just before you slam the door and drop to the floor, your head in your hands and tears flowing freely down your face. 

 

You want to scream. Your whole body shakes violently and you wonder whether you’re going into shock. The quivering in your groin disappears but its feeling is sharp in your memory. You hate yourself. How can you possibly feel like this? Are you truly that far gone, has the world really screwed you that much that you would actually be drawn to a man like that? You try to remember the person you were before the world turned. You’d never been attracted to arrogance or danger, you had always preferred the sweeter, innocent ones you could trust, where you could feel in control. But it’s been years since you were her. Since then, you’d lost your entire family, everyone you’d known in fact. You lived in a world without control. The group you’d found before Alexandria had been strong, you’d fought well together and you learned quickly how to survive. After they had died and you had been left on your own, you were empty. The only thing that made you come alive was fighting; you’d come to relish in the adrenaline kick it gave you to kill. But you only kill walkers. You’d never killed a human in your entire life and you wouldn’t know how to. But Negan… he had killed more than he could probably count and he seemed to enjoy it. 

 

But then again, wasn’t it always necessary when he did? You think about how you have to look out for your own in this world if you have any hope of surviving — well wasn’t that what Negan was doing? You’ve heard about the number of people Negan has working for him in his compound and his outposts — they’re all alive because of him. If Negan died, how quickly would they fall apart, tear at each other’s throats for dominance? While one dominates them all they fall in line, and as long as you follow his rules you are protected, fed, sheltered. Hell, you even had a chance at having a real life; he created something to live for. Negan might kill when he has to to make people fall in line, saving the larger whole for the sake of the smaller one, but he had never got people killed. His rules ensure that people are safe as long as they live by them; they are in place to protect his people. 

 

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping at your hair. Are you really defending him?! And yet here he is, offering you his food, his shower in the hope that you will take them and join the world he’s trying to build, trying to protect. Providing you give him what he wants… You shake your head again. He put you in that cell, he starved you! But wasn’t that just his way to ensure that you would behave, that you wouldn’t run off and kill a bunch of his men in rebellion? That you wouldn’t try to kill him and watch as everything he had built fell apart? Was it all just to look after his own people? He didn’t know you — how could he take a chance? Even Rick had to threaten you before he could trust you…

 

‘How’re you doin’ in there, darlin'?’ His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you wonder how long you’ve been sitting there. You get steadily to your feet, relieved to find you’re no longer shaking, and cross to the sink to look at yourself in the mirror. Your face is red and blotchy and your hair is matted. You step out of your clothes. A thin layer of grime covers your body. You ignore Negan’s question as you cross to the shower and switch it on. Spotting a comb on a chest of drawers by the sink, you drag it roughly through your hair. It takes several minutes to untangle the mess and your scalp feels raw as you step into the shower.

 

The feeling of the hot water running over your body is euphoric. You grab a bottle of something from a rack and lather it over you, inhaling the sweet, fresh smell of pine and mint. You take as much time as you dare to scrub every inch of you clean before stepping out of the shower, mulling over the argument you had just had with yourself. Rubbing the water from your eyes, you reach blindly for a towel. Your fingers curl around soft fabric and you rub yourself down with it before wrapping it around your chest. You open your eyes to find Negan leaning against the doorframe, watching you intensely.

 

‘Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,’ he growls, tracing his tongue along his lower lip before taking it between his teeth, his gaze running slowly up from your legs to your face, holding your terrified stare as he steps towards you.

Chapter Text

Negan paces slowly towards you, his eyes alight with desire. You instinctively wrap your arms around your body, shrinking into yourself as you watch him, terrified and unable to tear your eyes away from him. You know he must have been watching you since you got in the shower. 

 

‘Aw don’t hide from me, doll, I already got a good fuckin’ look,’ he smirks, slowly closing the distance between you. ‘Here’s the deal, darlin’: you can leave that cell tonight and stay here with me — a privilege not even my fuckin’ wives get — or I can send you back there for fuck knows how long. It’ll give Dwight somethin’ to do. Truth is, doll, I’ll have you one way or another.’

 

You snort, glaring at him in disgust and disbelief. Suddenly all the excuses you made for him seem ludicrous. His eyes flash, his face falling into a dark expression that makes your blood run cold.

 

 ‘Or…’ he strokes a finger along the top of the towel covering your chest then hooks it ever so slightly underneath, resting it between the towel and your skin. The contact makes your skin prickle and your breath catches in your throat as your heart stands to pound against his finger. You try to remind yourself of the injustice of his ultimatum, shaking your head slightly to clear it, ‘… do I have to persuade you some more?’ 

 

‘I… I can’t…’ you mumble through rapid breaths, longing for adrenaline to save you and return the fight to your muscles. His body is inches from yours as he looms over you, hooking a finger under your chin and forcing your head up to look at him while the other strokes lightly along your chest just beneath the top of your towel, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind it. ‘Please, Negan… don’t…’ you breathe, shivers running through your body as you watch his tongue trace gently across his lower lip. 

 

‘I can’t tell if you’re blushin’ outta fear or ’cos you just can’t resist me, doll,’ he grins, flashing those perfect teeth. ‘Or maybe it’s a little o’ both.’

 

He leans his face closer to yours, his eyes now fixed on your slightly parted lips as you pant, frozen to the spot. He tugs your chin up to meet his lips, gently brushing them over yours. Your body springs into action at the contact. You leap backwards, but you realise in horror that his finger was still hooked under your towel. It drops to the floor and you stand naked in front of him. His eyes roam hungrily over your body for a moment before he lunges towards you in a single stride. His hands grip either side of your face roughly as he crushes his lips against yours. You try desperately to push him away, your palms shoving as hard as possible into his chest but its like trying to move a wall as he descends over you, pushing you up against the rim of the sink that slams painfully into the small of your back. 

 

You go to scream but he anticipates your reaction, wrapping his fingers around your throat. His other hand scrapes down your back, his fingernails digging slightly into your skin, and grabs your hip, pulling your body into his with a force that winds you. Your nipples graze across his leather jacket as his growing erection presses into your abdomen. He catches your lower lip between his teeth and lets out a low moan that sends a wave of something else through you. The fear in you starts to shrink as another sensation creeps through your body, washing over your mind and sending ripples down to your core. Your head is a haze as you try desperately to resist them. You feel disconnected, watching in horror as another, darker part of you starts to claw its way to dominance. Negan releases your lips for a second and you take your chance to cry out.

 

‘Please! Stop! I can’t do this Negan, please…’ you gasp through his chokehold. To your surprise he releases the grip around your throat and hip, but before you have a chance to escape he grabs your face like a vice, his body pressing still harder into yours. The pain in your lower back starts to build as the rim of the sink digs into it. His breathing is fast and heavy and his cheeks are flushed, his eyes dark with lust. 

 

‘You want me to stop, doll?’ He growls menacingly. ‘I got the impression you were fuckin’ enjoyin’ it.’ A smug grin etches across his face. Anger rises in you with a rush of adrenaline. For a moment you think you might be able to save yourself, but you watch helplessly as it fuels the fire building in your core.

 

‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’ You spit at him, trying to channel the anger at yourself to him, the cause of your failure. You squirm uselessly beneath him but stop immediately as you catch him watching you, tracing his lower lip with his tongue in apparent enjoyment.

 

‘Me? Doll, you should know by now I’m the guy who always gets what he wants,’ he growls quietly; you can feel the deep vibrations of his voice travelling up through his chest, sending another wave of ripples to your core.

 

He steps away, releasing you. You grope hastily behind you to clutch at the sink as your legs give way beneath you. He chuckles softly to himself before saying in a suddenly playful tone, ‘Feel free to stay the night, darlin’, I’ll be in the next room if you wanna join.’ He turns to leave, grabbing the door handle. ‘Up to you,’ he says with a wink as he shuts the door behind him, leaving you to collapse on the floor as a wave of horrified sobs crashes down on you.

Chapter Text

You cry yourself into oblivion, but you find no relief as your dreams replay the event in your head over and over. With each replay, the animalistic darkness that had burned inside you blurs the memory of the sensations you’d felt, vying for dominance over your reason until you force yourself awake, terrified of what your body was starting to crave. You’d stayed in the bathroom all night, curled up beneath the sink. Your entire body aches and your eyes sting from your tears. The light is still on so you have no idea what time of the day it is, and you can’t hear anything in the next room. Either Negan has gone or he’s still asleep. 

 

You stay rooted to the floor for as long as your body can stand, too scared to move in case he hears you, but eventually your joints begin to scream at you. Carefully unravelling yourself, you realise you’re still naked. Grabbing the rim of the sink, you heave yourself to your feet and stare at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes are swollen and there’s the faint imprint of Negan’s fingers on your neck. You turn around and gasp at the sight of the nail marks running the length of your back down to the bruise blossoming just above your waist. You hastily grab the towel to cover up Negan’s marks, and turn on the tap, guzzling the cool water into your parched throat before splashing it over your face. It soothes your clammy skin and soon you’re splashing it down your whole body, dropping the towel to the floor, desperate to eradicate Negan’s smell from you. 

 

Something moves in the next room and freeze. The blissful feeling of the cool water on your aching body had distracted you. You look around for your clothes but they’ve disappeared. Fear and anger bubbles inside you as you assume it to be Negan’s trick to entice you out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. You pick it up and wrap it tightly around yourself, a new determination growing inside you. You’re not going to shy away from his games and let him think he’s winning. The dark craving inside of you purrs in silent triumph, thinking you’re finally releasing yourself to its will, but you tell yourself you’re just doing whatever it takes to beat him, even if it means having to play the game. 

 

You tiptoe quietly to the door, blessing the practice you had at sneaking up on walkers. The sound of running water reaches your ears and curiosity gets the better of you. You creak the door open an inch; peering through you see Dwight with his back to you, bending over the sink at the far end of the room. You wait to hear the sound of Negan’s gravelly voice coming from the bed but nothing comes. Heart thumping loudly in your throat, you gather your courage and stride out of the room with as much confidence as you can feign. 

 

Dwight turns around, his eyes falling to your towel and then to the ground as he mumbles, ‘Got you some breakfast. He’s not here, you can breathe.’ You scan the room to check and exhale in relief, realising you’d been holding your breath. 

 

‘There’s some clothes on the bed,’ he says quietly as he shuts off the tap and lifts a bowl of fresh fruit from the sink, placing it on the coffee table beside a fresh jug of water. Your eyes turn straight to the food and you settle yourself down on the couch in your towel. Dwight’s inability to look you in the eye makes you feel perfectly safe wearing next to nothing in front of him. 

 

‘Negan got you these,’ he indicates to the fruit. ‘Said he’d be back in a couple of hours, he’s out on a run,’ he mumbled, heading to the door.

 

‘How come he’s got your looking after me then? Shouldn’t you be with him?’ You call after him. Dwight stops with his hand on the door and replies in barely more than a whisper.

 

‘Give him what he wants. It’s better for you in the long run and he won’t give up ’til you do.’ The door shuts behind him before you have time to process his words; his avoidance of your question disturbs you.

 

Your stomach groans, pulling you from your thoughts and you look down at the bowl of fruit in front of you. Peaches and strawberries. Your mouth gapes as you stare at them and you wonder disgustedly from which group they’d been stolen. Ignoring your growling stomach you head to the kitchen area of the room and spot a fridge. Opening it you find it packed to the brim with vegetables, condiments, and beer, then your eyes fall onto the rest of the chilli Dwight had cooked for you last night. You deliberate for a moment, wondering how much trouble this would get you in, but Dwight is the one who has been taking care of you — Negan clearly couldn’t care less what state you’re in. If Dwight made it for you then surely he wouldn’t mind if you finished it. In any case, you can’t see how Negan’s punishment could be worse than he’d inflicted on you so far, and you doubt he would choose to kill you over a bowl of chilli, not after the effort he’s put into trying to break you. You grab the chilli and spoon it out of the bowl with your hands, too hungry to bother finding a fork. As you eat, you wander over to the window and you’re met with a spectacular view. A vast forest stretches back as far as the eye can see; the sun just starting to reach over the tree-line sends golden shafts of light across a clear, pale blue sky. You look down to the edge of the forest and spot a tall, wire fence disappearing out of view beyond each side of the building.

 

Once you finish the chilli, you place it on the windowsill; the decision to beat Negan at his own game gives you a confidence you’re sure you will eventually regret, but the desire to do anything possible to piss him off overwhelms your reason, even if it’s just this small, insignificant act of rebellion. You ignore the fruit on the table and head towards the bed to find the clothes that have been laid out for you.

 

Your stomach drops as your eyes fall on a pair of black lace panties and a tiny black dress with straps so thin they may as well not be there. You turn away from them and hastily start rummaging through all the drawers you can find, under the bed, in the closet… but everything is empty. 

 

He’s playing you. He must have known you would never voluntarily wear anything he wanted you to, particularly not something that would make you look so tantalisingly vulnerable. The only other option is the towel you’re still wearing, offering you no more protection from his greedy gaze than if you were simply naked. So you return to the bathroom, refusing to give into his demands and close the door behind you, a tiny whimper leaving your mouth as you see that there’s no lock. You sit on the floor with your back against the wall and wait as you come to a decision about how you’re going to win his game. Negan thrives on making people bend to his will, but he also delights in watching them break as they struggle to resist him. So you will do neither; you won’t react to him at all.

 


 

 

The click of the door opening in the next room snaps you awake as you realise you’d fallen asleep. You hear the familiar sound of heavy boots striding across the floor. They stop for a moment and a soft chuckle drifts through the door. Then the boots grow louder and you stand up, tensing in preparation to resist his every move as though he were utterly beneath your notice. The bathroom door opens to reveal Negan’s towering figure. Your eyes widen in shock, immediately losing your composure. His face and jacket are covered in blood spatters which — you swallow loudly as your heart jumps into your throat and your insides go cold — match the blood covering Lucille currently balancing on his shoulder. He smirks down at you, watching your face grow white and your pupils dilate with fear. 

 

‘Who- who did you… kill?’ You stammer breathlessly, your chest tightening as the image of Rick being beaten to death by Negan swims before your eyes. 

 

‘None o’ your lot, doll, don’t worry,’ he chuckles light-heartedly, striding over to the sink and forcing you to back against the wall. He places Lucille gently on the floor and turns on the tap, splashing water over his face. The sink fills instantly with blood and you feel yourself sicken. 

 

‘Now doll, if you don’t mind I’m gonna take a shower, wash this shithead’s guts off o’ me,’ Negan growls through the water. Standing up, he glances at you in the mirror and flashes his teeth in a devilish grin. ‘You’re more than welcome to join seein’ as you’re already dressed for it,’ he smirks, eyeing your towel. You shake your head, still unable to speak from the shock of his appearance and the pain of the image of Rick’s death still playing in your mind.

 

‘Okay doll,’ Negan turns to face you. ‘Either you join me and we make some sweet bubbles together, or you run along and put that dress on I so kindly picked out for you.’ You stare at him for a moment as he waits for your reaction, then you turn on your heel and head straight for the next room, slamming the door behind you and throwing your towel angrily across the floor. You hear another chuckle from the bathroom followed by the sound of the shower, and you curse loudly to yourself. He beat you as soon as he entered the room and you hate him for it, but you hate yourself more for allowing your fear to betray you. The one thought you cling to is the fact that the sight of him covered in blood and the fear of him hurting Rick did at least stay the darker side in you that lusts after him.

 

You cross to the bed and shove on the panties and dress without looking at them, then you head to the couch and bite down on one of the peaches from the bowl, deciding you’ve already lost so you may as well get something from it before you have to fight whatever happens next, whatever your body does to drag you down into the darkness you never knew was in you until Negan found a way to coax it out. ‘Everyone has a breaking point, darlin’, and judging by the look on your pretty lil’ face, I don’t think it’ll be long before I find yours,’ Negan’s words come back to you now and you feel the anger and adrenaline rising in you as your hear the shower shut off and the bathroom door open. 

 

‘I think you’re finally gettin’ the idea of this, darlin’,’ Negan drools as his eyes run over your dress. You tug on it, desperately trying to cover more of your thighs as your gaze falls on his dripping wet, completely naked body.

Chapter Text

You launch across the room and throw yourself against the door, your hands fumbling desperately at the handle. It’s locked. Your resolve not to let Negan see you break disappeared the instant you saw him standing in front of you, parading the reality of what he wants you to do. A scream builds in your throat but a hand presses roughly over you mouth from behind you as Negan slams his body against your back, pushing you hard into the door. You watch helplessly from the corner of your eye as Negan smirks down at you mockingly, his eyes dark with lust. You can feel his erection growing against your back, his balls resting just above your ass. 

 

‘I was hopin’ we’d got past this, doll,’ he murmurs in your ear, the deep vibrations of his voice rumbling through his chest against your back, eliciting a small whimper from your mouth muffled by his hand. ‘But fuck girl you got some fight in you.’ His grin widens as he traces his teeth with the tip of his tongue, subduing your weakening struggles with his immovable strength. 

 

His other hand reaches towards your face and you squeeze your eyes shut, terrified of what he might do. Then you’re met with a soft tickling sensation along your neck as Negan gently brushes the hair from your back, exposing the sensitive skin beneath. You hear a low moan growing in his chest as he slowly leans down and brushes his lips lightly against the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine with each kiss until you’re shaking uncontrollably. He suddenly thrusts his hips sharply forwards, slamming yours against the door, his engorged cock jabbing hard in your back and pressing on the bruise he left you last time. The dark craving inside of you awakens as you feel ripples of heat rushing to your core. You feel yourself starting to slip away as it threatens to take over your body. 

 

‘Mm baby, you taste fuckin’ good,’ Negan growls against your neck, lightly tracing the tip of his tongue from the top of your spine to the dip behind your ear, leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps as he thrusts his hips forwards again with a low, breathy moan. 

 

You dig as deep as you can for the strength to fight both him and your own betraying body, and bite hard into the hand covering your mouth. He grunts in pain, pulling away slightly. You turn to face him before landing a punch in his diaphragm, causing him to double-over. You’re just about to plant your foot in his balls when Negan’s hand grabs you by the throat and you’re thrown crashing to the floor.

 

You try to scramble backwards but Negan pins your wrist down with his foot as the other pushes on your diaphragm, forcing the air out of your lungs. He stands over you mercilessly, his bulging cock standing fullly upright and glistening with precum and his balls swollen and throbbing. Tears run down your cheeks as you let out a pathetic whimper, crumpling beneath his weight. 

 

‘I told you before doll, the more you struggle the harder it’ll fuckin’ be,’ Negan growls down at you, his breathing heavy and a dangerous tone edging into his deep, gravelly voice. The craving inside you purrs at the sound and you feel your resistance to it fading away with every second as the heat that rushes to your core fogs your mind. 

 

‘Mm what a pretty fuckin’ sight you make there doll, lyin’ pinned to the fuckin’ floor like a dirty whore,’ he drools, his voice dripping with arrogance and lust as he looms over you. ‘Now I was willin’ to be gentle with you, Y/N, but you’re really startin’ to test my patience.’ A fresh wave of fear washes over you at his words and your whole body starts to shake, but the heat building in your core does not subside.

 

‘I guess I’ll just have to teach you your fuckin’ place,’ he growls as he slowly descends over you, releasing you momentarily before placing his knees on your shoulders, only partly supporting his weight on his feet so that your joints begin to groan under his pressure and your arms grow steadily numb. He rests his balls on your cleavage as the tip of his cock bounces gently on your chin, dripping his precum just below your lips.

 

‘Lick it up,’ he orders, the power behind his voice making you whimper involuntarily as another wave rushes to your core. Your eyes lock with his and he smirks as he sees the terror in them. ‘Come on, Y/N, I know there’s a part of you that’s beggin’ for a fuckin’ taste,’ he growls. 

 

You know he’s found your breaking point. He knows it’s only a matter of time before the dark side of you that craves his dominance takes over your sanity. He traces his tongue slowly across his lips as he watches you crumble beneath him. You take a deep breath and shut your eyes, tears swimming behind your eyelids as you slowly lower your tongue to your chin and flick it once across the tip of Negan’s cock. The salty taste assaults the tip of your tongue as he orders you to return it to your mouth. You do as he says. The liquid falls to the back of your throat and hits your gag reflex so you have no choice but to swallow it before you choke. It takes everything in you to hold back the sobs now rocking your body as he groans softly. 

 

‘Good fuckin’ girl.’ You feel yourself sliding away as a mixture of shame, fear, and unmistakable longing washes over you. 

 

Suddenly the weight pushing you to the floor disappears. You open your eyes to see Negan standing above you, offering out his hand. It takes a few moments for your brain to catch up, sure that it couldn’t already be over.

 

‘Don’t leave me hangin’ doll,’ he smirks at you, his playful tone back in place as though nothing had happened. He chuckles softly at your confusion. You ignore his hand as you push yourself clumsily to your feet, stumbling slightly on your shaking legs. He raises his eyebrows as he lets his hand drop. 

 

‘Still fightin’ huh? But I think you know who’s really fuckin’ winnin’, don’t you Y/N?’ He flashes his teeth in his signature devilish grin and then steps forwards, closing the distance between you and taking your chin in his hand, pulling it up so that his lips brush lightly against yours as he says in a low moan, ‘How do I taste?’ 

 

His eyes bore into yours as the fight leaves your body, exhaustion beginning to overwhelm you. You close your eyes as you mumble mechanically, ‘So good.’

 

He holds you there for a moment before you feel him release you, the heat of his body disappearing and leaving goosebumps over your exposed skin as you grow suddenly cold. You keep your eyes closed as he growls somewhere in the distance.

 

‘I think you’re ready for your lesson now, doll.’

Chapter Text

You’re rooted to the spot as your body suddenly wracks with sobs. You try to swallow them but they spill out of you uncontrollably as tears roll down your cheeks. For the first time in a long time you feel utterly powerless.

 

‘Aw don’t fuckin’ cry, Y/N, I thought you were a fighter!’ Negan cries mockingly, his voice growing closer to you. You shake your head and put your face in your hands, trying desperately to stem the flow of tears. Suddenly Negan’s heat wraps around you and you’re enveloped by his intoxicating smell as he pulls you into his chest, tucking your head under his chin. 

 

‘Come on now, doll, pull yourself together for fuck’s sake,’ he growls softly, the deep vibrations from his chest rumbling against your ear. You’re taken off guard by his suddenly gentle demeanour and you push away from him, stepping back with your arms held defensively in front of you before you finally open your eyes. Negan hasn't followed you but crosses the floor to the bathroom, disappearing for a moment. Your sobs begin to subside as you wait nervously. His sudden change disturbs you more than the violence of his attack, raising the hairs on the back of your neck as you wonder what sadistic turn his game might take.

 

Negan returns a minute later, tucking himself into his jeans. Your eyes travel up his toned torso, tracing over the tattoos on his chest and arms before meeting his gaze. He watches you for a moment, leaning lazily against the doorframe as he hooks his thumbs through his belt-loops, his head tilted back slightly as he surveys you with an unusually serious expression on his face. You tug anxiously on the hem of your dress, feeling as though he’s weighing you up and you suddenly feel embarrassed about your outburst, as though you’ve let him down by being weak. You push the thought hastily from your mind, confused by the zig-zagging of your emotions. But you can’t suppress the tingling sensations now spreading across your skin as you watch his eyes travelling up and down your body before lingering on the scar on your thigh left by the bullet wound.

 

‘How’d you get that?’ He asks quietly. You’re still tense in expectation, waiting for the next wave of his attack as you clear your throat, trying to muster some volume in an effort to cover your breakdown.

 

‘I told you in Alexandria: I got shot,’ a mischievous grin flashes momentarily across Negan’s face before he recomposes it, tearing his eyes away from your thigh and staring at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

 

‘How’d you like to pay ol’ Prick a visit tomorrow, doll?’ He growls slowly as he takes a step towards you. Your heart begins to pound, thumping audibly against your ribcage as you search his face disbelievingly.

 

‘I… I can… go home?’ You mutter quietly, terrified that it might be some kind of test that you just failed by asking him that question again. He takes another slow step towards you, never breaking his gaze, keeping your eyes locked on his. 

 

‘What’s the magic word?’ He whispers teasingly, the edge of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he traces his tongue across his teeth, taking another step. You don’t break eye contact this time as you reply in a quiet but firm voice.

 

‘Please… sir?’ You add for extra measure. Something flashes across his eyes as he bites his lip, taking a final step towards you, now only inches away. You can feel his body heat and his aroma descending over you like a cloud, fogging your brain and sending shivers down your body. The dark lust inside you purrs expectantly, your fight evaporating fast with every inhalation of his intoxicating musk.

 

‘Sir…’ he muses, reaching to stroke a finger across your cheek. Your skin burns beneath his touch. ‘I like that.’ 

 

You feel yourself succumbing to the ripples flooding to your core as his finger trails down to your collarbone, tracing along it before sliding gently over your shoulder and down your back. He grabs your waist firmly and pulls your hips into his body, still holding your gaze, your breath quickening as he leans his face around to your ear.

 

‘You’re gonna call me sir from now on, you got that, doll?’ He growls in a low voice, his hot breath tickling your neck and sending another shiver down your spine making you shudder against his body. He chuckles softly as his other hand dips to the hem of your dress, tracing along the scar on your thigh. You gasp as a flood of heat rushes between your legs in reaction to his touch.

 

‘Yes… sir,’ you breath, barely aware you’re aware of what you’re saying as your head swirls, clouded by his proximity. Something is shouting at you from the back of your mind but it’s muffled by the sensations flooding your body with increasing intensity. 

 

‘Good girl,’ he moans softly, catching your earlobe roughly between his teeth as his grip on your waist tightens and his fingers begin to travel up the inside of your thigh. Your breathing is so rapid that you start to feel light-headed and you close your eyes as the room spins around you. ‘I knew you couldn’t resist me, baby… don’t fight it,’ he moans seductively as his lips brush slowly along your jawline to your mouth. You stand there helplessly as he traces the tip of his tongue lightly over your parted lips, igniting a fire in your body.

 

‘No…’ you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as the shouting at the back of your head fights against the sensations running through your body. Negan ignores you, biting your lower lip with his teeth and sucking on it hungrily. The fire to rages suddenly hotter inside you, pushing back your resistance. Negan’s fingers reach your groin and trace tantalisingly slowly to your entrance, moving up and gently parting your folds before slipping between them.

 

‘Mm, you’re so fuckin’ wet for me, baby,’ he groans against your lips, his hand tightening painfully on your waist as he runs his fingers slowly up and down your folds, spreading your juices through your pussy.

 

‘No!’ You cry, tearing yourself away from him. You collide with the arm of the couch and your knees buckle beneath you, knocking you off balance. Negan’s vice-like grip is back on your waist as he pushes your back onto the couch, your legs failing over the edge. Gripping your hips with bruising force, Negan pushes his torso between your legs, spreading them apart. You sit up, trying to tug his hands off of you but he slams his palm into your chest, winding you as you fall back down onto your back.

 

‘Don’t try ’n tell me you’re not achin’ for this, Y/N, cos’ your soakin’ pussy tells a very different fuckin’ story to your mouth, doll. So why don’t you just shut the fuck up for once and take it,’ he growls, anger seeping through his heavy breaths. He locks his eyes onto yours as he removes one hand from your hip and flips up your dress, revealing your panties. The gentle lightness gone from his touch, Negan hooks his fingers beneath the lace and rips it off in one swift motion so that you’re on full display. His eyes flick down to your throbbing core and he licks his lips slowly.

 

‘That’s a pretty fuckin’ pussy you got there, honey,’ he growls, locking his gaze back onto your terrified eyes. He traces one finger slowly between your folds, biting his lip as he watches your eyes widen and your skin flush, betraying the lust inside of you as you whimper for him to stop. He ignores you. 

 

‘And look how fuckin’ wet you are,’ he moans, bringing his finger up from your pussy to your mouth and forcing it between your lips, ordering you to suck it clean. As you taste yourself on his finger your resistance crumbles completely. Half of you watches in horror as the other half succumbs to the waves of desperate longing raging through your body. Almost as though he’s read your mind, Negan pulls his finger from your mouth with a faint ‘pop’ and plunges it hard into your entrance, ramming it as deep as he can. You mewl as your walls convulse, closing tightly around the invasion.

 

‘Oh baby, you are tight,’ he growls as he pulls his finger out almost all the way before thrusting it back inside you even harder, a guttural groan escaping his lips. Your eyes roll back as he begins to thrust his finger inside you at a punishingly slow pace, slamming his knuckles painfully into your pelvis as he drives deeper and deeper into you. Mewling and whimpering helplessly, your hands grips the fabric of the couch as your back arches into his attack. His heavy breaths quicken as he begins to pick up the pace, sliding his free hand underneath you and lifting your ass up, angling it so his finger curls around to hit your g-spot with every thrust. You let out a strangled cry as the fire inside of you suddenly intensifies ten-fold and spasms of pleasure ripple through your walls. Then Negan’s finger disappears, leaving you empty as your walls start to convulse desperately around nothing. 

 

‘Did I say you could fuckin’ cum?’ Negan growls menacingly, his mouth now at your ear as he bears down on you, his hand soaking with your juices curling tightly around your throat. You gasp for air as your head starts to swim and the pain builds in your lungs. 

 

‘Did I say you could fuckin’ cum?!’ he roars in your ear, his thumb pushing up under your chin and forcing your head back to look at him.

 

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please…’ you choke, tears now streaming down your cheeks as your hips buck involuntarily up into Negan’s body, your walls still spasming desperately for release as you’re left empty.

 

‘You’re a fuckin’ naughty little slut, aren’t you, Y/N?’ Negan sneers. Your eyes roll back into your head as the fog descends over your oxygen-starved brain. Just as you’re about to pass out Negan lets go of your throat. You gasp, clutching your bruised neck as he grabs a fistful of hair at the back of your head, tugging roughly and making you yelp in pain. He brings his lips to your ear and traces the tip of his tongue lightly over the ridges, sending another wave of shivers down your spine. 

 

‘Do you know what happens to naughty little sluts like you?’ He coos softly, grazing you earlobe delicately with his teeth as he tugs again on your hair. You feel a couple of strands rip from your scalp. 

 

‘No… sir,’ you whimper, the pain breeding fresh tears in your eyes.

 

‘They get punished,’ he growls. Before you have time to register his words, Negan pulls you up by your hair, dragging you off of the couch. He lets go of you and sits down in your place, smirking at your quivering form as your legs barely keep you upright. He snaps his fingers, pointing to his lap. You stare at him in disbelief.

 

‘Get the fuck over here,’ he orders sharply, snapping his fingers again. You shuffle forwards towards him, the aching desperation in your core outweighing your fear of the salacious grin forming on his face as he relishes in your trepidation. You stand in front of him, still unsure what he wants you to do as a hundred scenarios race through your mind. Then he grabs your legs and shoulders and pulls you roughly onto his lap, one hand pushing your head into the couch as the other hooks beneath your belly and raises your ass into the air, flipping your dress over your back. 

 

‘Every time I spank your pretty lil’ ass you’re gonna shout my name, you got that, honey? I want you to scream it for the whole fuckin’ buildin’ to hear,’ Negan growls, seizing at your flesh and squeezing it until his fingernails dig sharply into your skin. ‘You got that?’ He shouts, grabbing a fistful of your hair again and pulling your head back to hear your wail.

 

‘Yes, sir!’

 

‘Good girl, good fuckin’ girl,’ he grunts as the first strike stings your skin.

 

‘Negan!’ You croak, your body starting to wrack with sobs as your face burns in humiliation.

 

‘Louder, doll, I can’t fuckin’ hear you,’ he growls, his breathing heavy. You can feel the bulge in his crotch growing against your belly as he strikes you again.

 

‘Negan!’ You cry, as loudly as you can through your sobs. He tugs on your hair again, wrapping his fingers tighter against your scalp and you yelp in pain as he strikes you another three times.

 

‘Negan! Negan! Negan!’

 

Your skin is raw and your scalp burns, your body shaking uncontrollably as the fire in your core dissolves into your humiliation. Negan releases your hair and traces a finger gently over you stinging skin.

 

‘I’ve left you a good fuckin’ handprint there, doll, you should see it! Wow!’ He mocks playfully before flipping your dress back down and pulling you gently up off of his lap so you’re sitting beside him. He wraps an arm around your shoulder as you cry in earnest, tears splashing against his hot skin. 

 

‘Have you learned your lesson, Y/N?’ He mumbles softly, the deep vibrations in his chest oddly comforting as you’re once more thrown off guard by his sudden gentleness. You gulp down your sobs before you croak out a tiny ‘yes, sir’. 

 

‘Good girl,’ he growls gently before removing his arm from around you and pushing you off of his body. You look up at him, confused, but he walks away from you and heads for the door.

 

‘Where are you going?’ You mumble, resenting the coldness that suddenly engulfs you in the place of his heat. He turns to face you just as he reaches the door, a smug grin etching over his face as he admires his work.

 

‘Aw, don’t you worry doll, I’ll be back soon. I’ve gotta get one o’ my wives to take care of this,’ he drools, grabbing the bulging erection beneath his pants and throwing his hips forwards with a wink. He lingers for a moment, one hand on the door as he watches the anger and humiliation rise in your face. Opening the door and stepping out of the rooms he adds, ‘You may wanna clean yourself up before we head over to see your Rick tomorrow.’ Then with a devilish grin, he locks the door behind him.

Chapter Text

Something stirs you from your semi-conscious stupor. You hadn’t been able to sleep all night. As soon as Negan had left, you’d scrubbed yourself raw in the shower and cried until you fell asleep on the bathroom floor again. Your body aches from your miserable make-shift bed consisting of your towel curled up as a pillow against the wall. Negan had left his towel in there too, perhaps deliberately, but you hadn’t wanted to risk bringing the memories of last night rushing back just by inhaling his lingering scent. The longing in your core still ached in the background after Negan’s teasing assault, leaving you empty just as you had begun to climax before punishing it away from you so you could find no satisfaction in release. He knew exactly what he was doing. He had sensed your body’s weakness for him and he was going to manipulate it out of you until you forgot your hatred and your principles and fell to your knees begging.

 

A gentle knock at the door brings you to your senses and you sit bolt upright. 

 

‘Y/N, it’s me… open up,’ comes a quiet voice. You scramble up to your feet, tugging the black dress you still wore down as far as it would go before inching open the door to reveal Dwight. His eyes meet yours and for a second you think you see a hint of pity in them before he drops his gaze to the bowl of chilli he holds in front of him.

 

‘I made you some more,’ he says softly. You stare at him for a moment, confused, and he glances up at you again, a slight crease forming between his eyebrows. ‘You like it, right?’

 

‘Yeah… yeah I do, thanks,’ you reply, shaking your head a little to clear it. ‘How’d you know that?’ His brow furrows as he suddenly looks you straight in the eyes.

 

‘You finished the last lot - I found the bowl on the windowsill… I just assumed…’ his voice grows quieter and a slight blush creeps up his cheeks as he looks down again. He hands you the bowl and you mumble a thanks. He nods once, turning to leave before calling gently over his shoulder.

 

‘Negan laid some clothes out for you. He’ll be back in a few minutes,’ and he’s gone, leaving you to ponder confusedly over his unusual demeanour. You wonder whether he’s under some instruction from Negan to give you the impression that you might actually have a friend here after all, like a safety blanket to follow the attacks pulling you into some sort of twisted sense of security. 

 

You scoop the bowl clean before bringing yourself to look at the clothes laid out for you on the bed. A pair of tiny red lace panties and a deep red, backless body-con dress that wouldn’t reach much below your ass. Your stomach squirms uncomfortably as your face burns with shame at the thought of Alexandria seeing you in this, of Rick seeing you in this, knowing that it’s all for Negan to parade how he turned you into his slut who he had to punish for cumming before he’d granted you permission. You shove them on unceremoniously, tugging anxiously at the thin fabric as you head to the bathroom to put a comb through your knotted hair. It takes a few minutes to untangle the mess Negan left at the back of your head. 

 

You gasp in horror as you finally look at your reflection in the mirror: a light bruise in the shape of Negan’s fingers blossoms over your neck. You turn around and whimper at the sight of the fingernail marks and bruise on your back not covered by the pitiful amount of material on your body. For the first time since the world turned, you find yourself wishing for some make-up to hide Negan’s marks. Sighing in mild relief that no one will see the still stinging handprint on your ass, you put on your best impression of total indifference as you hear the door click open in the next room.

 

Striding as confidently as you can from the bathroom, you stare at the door Negan now walks through. His leather jacket is mercifully clean of blood and opens to a plain white t-shirt that hugs tightly over his muscles. Swinging Lucille loosely by his side he saunters slowly over to you, taking his time to explore every inch of your body as the familiar cocky smirk spreads over his face. 

 

‘Well Y/N, don’t you brush up fine,’ he growls seductively as he comes to stand just inches away from you. You continue to stare over his shoulder at the door as you reply mechanically, ‘Thank you, sir.’ 

 

Through your peripheral you see a flash of something cross Negan’s face as the cocky grin falters for a second. It takes every effort to resist looking up at him in curiosity, hoping that your play might just work. After a few moments of silence, he takes a step back and turns towards the door.

 

‘You ready to go back?’ He growls, his voice suddenly expressionless. Your heart leaps. Failing to keep the excitement out of your voice you say, ‘You’re taking me home?’ 

 

You hadn’t dared think about it when Negan had mentioned it yesterday after he’d left you stinging and empty. You’d pushed it straight from your mind, thinking it had just been some play to get your hopes up before he crushed you again.

 

‘Of course, doll, I fuckin’ told you that yesterday,’ he replies, the faint hint of amusement seeping through his uncharacteristically monotonous tone as he opens the door and looks back to you, eyebrows raised expectantly while the rest of his face remains disturbingly expressionless. You wonder if he’s trying to imitate you to undermine your play.

 

‘Yes, sir,’ you intone mechanically as you walk straight past him out of the door.

 


 

 

The ride to Alexandria passes painfully slowly as you sit between Negan and Dwight in the front of Negan’s truck, all three of you staring determinedly out of the window in silence. You try to glean something from each of their expressions out of the corner of your eye, but Negan’s face is blank and his body relaxed, as though you’re not even there. Dwight’s eyes are unfocused and his face looks paler than usual, his scars standing out sharply against his skin. You flick your eyes down to his lap where he grips Lucille between his legs and you see that his knuckles are white with strain. The walls of Alexandria finally come into view and you spot a couple of walkers turn towards the noise of your truck and the three following behind you.

 

‘Giver her here, Dwight,’ Negan’s deep growl makes you jump after the prolonged quiet. Dwight passes Lucille over you to Negan; you can feel Negan’s eyes on you but you keep your stare fixed on the snarling walkers now dragging themselves towards you. 

 

‘Get out of the truck, doll,’ he orders, the commanding edge in his voice sending a small rush of warmth between your legs. You pray he doesn’t notice the flush in your cheeks.

 

Obeying in silence, you slide out after him, following as far back as you dare with Dwight just behind you. He meets your eyes momentarily as you glance back to him, a hint of pity and sadness in them that makes your stomach churn nervously as you return your gaze to Negan’s back. He swings his bat with astonishing force, colliding with each walker’s skull and sending blood-curling cracks through the air as the gate grates open. Your chest constricts and your breath quickens as you see Rick standing on the other side, one hand resting on the hatchet at his hip. He hasn’t spotted you yet as you stand in Negan’s shadow, Dwight now stepping forwards in front of you to his side. You wonder if this was all planned so that you would be revealed at the right moment in your short, tight red dress, sporting the marks of Negan’s lust and punishment.

 

‘Well if it isn’t my favourite dick!’ Negan chants playfully, thrusting his hips forwards as he floors the last walker with an expert swing. ‘Actually that’s a lie, my dick is so much bigger than yours… just ask your lil’ friend here!’ He steps aside with his arm out and beckons you forwards with a lazy flick of his finger. You can’t take your eyes off of Rick as you shuffle nervously towards Negan, your shoulders hunched forward and your arms crossed tightly across your chest. As Rick’s eyes fall on you, you meet his gaze and try to tell him wordlessly how sorry you are, how you tried, how Negan might have begun to break you but he hadn’t yet destroyed you. You weren’t Negan’s, you were his. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as though it’s trying desperately to pull you towards him, but you come to a stop beside Negan, knowing it can’t be that simple. 

 

You look to Negan and your stomach drops at the mischievous grin forming on his face as he senses your desperation to return to Rick. He eyes you up and down for a moment, tracing the tip of his tongue along his lower lip as he rubs a thumb along his jaw. His gaze runs pointedly over your curves, lingering on the bruises on your neck as something dark flashes across his face, turning your insides cold. This isn’t the end for you. Whatever his reason for sending you back to Rick, it’s all part of his plan to break you. The grim reality settles over you, quelling the excitement you felt at seeing Rick with a wave of hopelessness. You’re barely surprised by the next words that are out of Negan’s mouth, realising that you’d been expecting them all along.

 

‘Y/N here was just desperate to see you, Pricky Boy. Fuck knows why she wants to go back to you after she got a look at my dick,’ he coos playfully. You keep your eyes to the ground as the air becomes alive with murmurs and whispers; the whole of Alexandria now thinks you’ve slept with both Rick and Negan, despite neither being true. No one in their right mind would believe that Rick would ever fancy you. As for Negan, you pray that they see the bruises not as the result of your lust but of Negan’s force. 

 

‘But…’, Negan continues, pausing for dramatic effect as he points Lucille directly at Rick’s face. You hold your breath as you prepare for the catch you were anticipating. ‘I want her back first thing tomorrow morning, and Rick if she ain’t spick ’n fuckin’ span for me, I’ll slit her pretty lil’ throat and make you watch.’ 

 

He turns then to you, pressing his body close against yours and pulling your face up to look at him with a rough hand gripping your chin. ‘I want you to remember what it felt like to have my finger thrusting deeper and deeper inside you ’til you came; how it felt to be left empty and desperate as I spanked your ass fuckin’ raw for cumin’ without my permission. The next time I see you doll, I want you fuckin’ beggin’ me to fill you with my dick. You got that?’ You swallow to hold back the sobs beginning to build in your chest as you look him in the eyes and say mechanically, ‘Yes, sir.’ 

 

‘Good girl,’ he grunts, tracing his tongue along his lower lip and holding your gaze for a moment before releasing you and turning back to his truck. ‘And Y/N, if I hear of any fuckin’ hanky-panky between you and Rick, I’ll slit his throat and make you watch. Dwight will be stickin’ to you like a fuckin’ limpet and if he doesn’t tell me tomorrow how you fingered yourself to sleep moaning my fuckin’ name to the walls, I’ll give you something to scream your pretty mouth around tomorrow.’ 

 

He chuckles satisfyingly at the indignant look on your face as he steps into the truck and signals his entourage to leave. Why does he think anything would happen between you at Rick? You turn to Dwight, ready to punch his face in — you don’t know why he would make such a thing up, but seeing as its him Negan’s left to babysit you, you’re positive it came from him. That must be why he couldn’t look you in the eye, why he always looked at you with such pity as he tried to make it up to you with menial gestures  — guilt. 

 

But before you can so much as raise your fist, Rick is beside you and Dwight is walking away, not looking at either of you. You’re uncomfortably aware of your onlookers and what must be running through their heads as they stare at you, but the combination of pain and joy on Rick’s face blurs your surroundings into insignificance and you leap straight into his arms without thinking. He wraps his arms around you until you can barely breathe. Unlike Negan’s touch the affection is palpable and you feel an odd twinge in your heart as Rick begins to shake with sobs, clinging to you as though he never wants to let go. You had no idea you meant anything to him; he’d never so much as shaken your hand. The pieces start to come together in your head: whatever it was Rick said to Negan before you were stolen away must be why Negan thought that something might happen or had already happened between you, which is why he’d assigned Dwight to keep an eye on you. What didn’t make sense was why then would Negan send you back to Rick for the night? It was undoubtedly some kind of test but why risk it in the first place? You assumed Negan would be the jealous type, although you knew you meant absolutely nothing to him — you’re just someone who stood up to him and needs to be shown their place. For some reason you feel a twinge of annoyance at the idea that you’re nothing more than a project to him… you banish it from your mind as Rick pulls away, tears sparkling in his bright blue eyes.

 

‘Are you okay?’ He says hoarsely, taking your face gently between his palms and staring deeply into your eyes, searching them desperately. You give him a small smile as the exhaustion of the last two week’s events crashes down on you like a tidal wave. Suddenly it feels too difficult to even stand and your legs start to give way beneath you. Rick catches you with strong arms but his grip is soft as he lifts you up and cradles you against his chest. The gentle rocking of his walk and the sound of his heart against your ear are the last things you notice before darkness takes you and you fall unconscious.

Chapter Text

You awaken to find yourself in a warm bed. After the suffering you’ve endured over the last two weeks, the comfort feels just as welcome as when Rick first brought you here, wounded and alone. You hear the sound of muffled voices coming from somewhere in the distance. Keeping your eyes closed and your body still, you listen as hard as you can.

 

‘She’s been through hell, Rick, anyone can see that,’ comes a man’s voice you don’t recognise.

 

‘But what if he… you know… what if he did that to her, how can she come back from that?’ Your heart skips a beat as you recognise Rick.

 

‘You don’t know that he did, you have to just ask her,’ says the other man.

 

‘She’s not gonna want to talk to me, she barely just got here and I let him take her… I’d made sure that none of her shifts coincided with when Negan was due to show up, but he always comes early. I should never have let her do guard duty,’ the audible stress in Rick’s tone makes your heart twinge again.

 

‘From what I saw out there, she trusts you. When she first saw you she looked like she’d been reunited with her dead mother — she feels something for you Rick. You have to trust her, give her the chance to tell you the truth.’ Your heart leaps into your throat — what is he saying? Rick can’t think that you have feelings for him, you’re not even sure yourself what you feel for Rick, other than sheer joy to see him alive, to be alive yourself so that you could return to him.

 

‘Come on Jesus, why would she feel anything for me? I stuck a fuckin’ gun to her head the moment she came outta that coma and I’ve barely spoke to her since,’ Rick says in a low, tense voice tinged with bitterness.

 

‘You’ve been telling me all sorts of stuff about her, and you said how great she was in training, how she didn’t even need teaching — where did all that come from if you’ve not talked to her before?’ The man named Jesus says sarcastically.

 

‘She was friendly with Daryl and Carol, I thought for a moment he had a thing for her too but…’ Rick’s voice trails off. ‘What?’ He asks defensively, as though Jesus had given him a look.

 

‘So you admit you have a thing for her?’ Jesus says with an audible grin. Rick doesn’t answer. ‘You had to let her contribute in some way Rick. From what I’ve heard she’s a damn good fighter and she’s not the sort to just sit around planting vegetables all day. She wanted to protect this place after you gave her a home here,’ Jesus says firmly. You picture Rick squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head at his words.

 

‘It’s my fault though. If she hadn’t been out on duty that day she may never have met him. I could have kept her hidden, I…’ says Rick, his voice rising in anger, then cracking a little as he says suddenly quietly, ‘I should have kept her safe.’

 

The same constricting sensation you’d felt at the sight of Rick at the gate spreads across your chest once more: you can’t stand to hear Rick beating himself up over Negan’s acts of atrocity. Swinging your legs off of the bed and ignoring the wave of nausea brought on by your sudden movement, you wrench the door open to find them standing at the end of the upstairs corridor in the house Rick had given after your recovery.

 

‘It’s not your fault Rick. It’s Negan’s. It’s all him, it’s only every been him,’ you say quietly. The man you presume to be Jesus — his long hair and beard, and piercing blue eyes give you the impression that it must be a nickname — gives you a small, approving smile before patting Rick once on the back and retreating downstairs, leaving you and Rick to stare at one another in the corridor. The gap between you seems to go on for miles and you’re surprised by the suddenly overwhelming urge to run straight into his arms, to convince him that you don’t blame him for anything. But you stay rooted to the spot as Rick slowly approaches you, the pain and concern etched all over his face as his eyes find the bruises on your neck. You only now realise that you’re still wearing Negan’s red dress. He stops in front of you, unable to tear his gaze away from Negan’s marks, his eyes wide.

 

‘Did he do that to you?’ He asks in barely more than a whisper. There’s an edge to his voice you’ve never heard before and it scares you slightly. You reply with a tiny nod, watching intently for his reaction, afraid that he might run off to find Negan right now and have his head caved in by Lucille before he could bury his hatchet in between Negan’s eyes. Rick’s face hardens and a muscle in his jaw twitches as he looks down at the floor, breathing heavily. 

 

‘I’m so sorry, Y/N,’ he intones in a low voice, the tangible anger and hurt makes you feel sick. You close the gap between you and reach out instinctively for him, placing a hand gingerly over his gripping tightly onto the hatchet at his hip. His fingers relax at your touch and he looks up at you, your sudden proximity causing your racing heart to thump even louder in your chest. Your breath catches in your throat as Rick’s eyes travel down to your lips and his face moves infinitesimally closer to yours. Before you register what’s happening, you’re crushing your lips onto his. His hands brush lightly up your arms before cradling your face, his rough skin still soft and gentle on yours while his lips suck on yours with a hunger that sends ripples through your body. When Rick breaks away, you open your eyes to find his glistening with tears as he runs a finger lightly over the bruises on your neck, leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps behind.

 

‘Rick, I’m okay. He didn’t… we never had sex, he just…’ you stop at the terrifying look on Rick’s face. His eyes hold yours with heart-stopping intensity as a hate-filled sneer curls his lips.

 

‘I’m gonna kill him, Y/N. I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m never gonna let him take you away from me again,’ he says with a growl that reminds you disturbingly of Negan. 

 

‘No Rick, he’ll kill you,’ you say desperately, gripping Rick’s face in your hands. His eyes soften at your touch and suddenly the fight is replaced by a deep anguish and resignation that tugs painfully at your heart.

 

‘I can’t lose you, Y/N,’ he whispers, his blue eyes swimming with tears. 

 

‘You won’t, I promise. You have to let me go back to him or he will kill you. But I’ll always be yours.’ 

 

Suddenly Rick has you in a vice-grip, one hand running through your hair while the other grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his body. Your arms immediately curl around his neck, your fingers entwining in his hair as he crushes his lips over yours, kissing you with an intensity that sucks the air from your lungs and soon has you gasping for breath. His mouth travels down your neck, kissing with an exquisite gentleness along your bruises, eradicating the remnants of Negan’s touch from your skin with light brushes of Rick’s tongue. You can’t stifle the whimper that leaves your lips when he pulls away, taking your hands in his as his eyes lock with yours.

 

‘Do you want this, Y/N?’ He says quietly.

 

‘Yes,’ you whisper breathlessly, unable to remember any more words than the one that’s been burning through your brain as soon as Rick had kissed you.

 

He looks at you for a moment, his gaze boring into you. Then he pushes you backwards until your back hits the wall as his lips find your neck. You gasp as his teeth and tongue and lips trace hungrily over your skin, leaving tingling trails of warmth that begin to spread to your core as he runs his hands over your ass, a deep, soft groan rumbling in his chest. He works his way back up to your lips and slides his tongue gently between them, tasting every inch of your mouth as he moans softly into it. 

 

Removing his hands momentarily from your body, Rick shrugs off his jacket and pushes his body into yours, pinning you to the wall with an immovable strength. You feel his growing bulge pressing into your abdomen, his breathing getting heavier and more ragged as ripples of heat rush through your body. He tugs gently on your hair and grazes your earlobe with his teeth, his tongue flicking across the flesh of your ear and sending shivers down your spine. As you mutter his name through you rapid breaths, Rick’s body pushes harder against yours and he runs his hands up your sides, squeezing your breasts with a strength and desperation that sends waves to your now throbbing core until you’re involuntarily bucking your hips into his. One of his hands stays massaging your breast as the other moves to the hem of your dress, tracing lightly and excruciatingly slowly up your thigh. He lets out a low growl against your lips as he palms your core. The waves of heat rushing through you start to make your head swim and you clutch desperately at Rick’s face with both hands, pulling him into a deep kiss that spreads a different kind of warmth through your chest as his fingers slip gently between your folds. You feel his mouth tugging away from yours, trying to break the kiss so you bite down on his lower lip, desperate never to let him go. He lets out a soft chuckle as he puts one hand on you jaw and gently pushes you away while the fingers of his other hand hover delicately over your entrance.

 

‘Are you sure? I only want this if you want it too,’ Rick says, searching your eyes.

 

‘I really want this Rick, I want you,’ you breathe, frozen to the spot as you feel Rick’s fingers teasingly circling your entrance. He flashes a row of perfect white teeth in a smile that crinkles his eyes and the warmth grows in your chest. Before you have a chance to catch your breath, his lips are on yours and his finger plunges deep inside you, eliciting an aching moan from you both as he curls his finger around and brushes it right against your G-spot. You buck your hips against his hand, willing him to keep going as your hands fly to his crotch, one undoing his belt while the other palms his bulge. As you feel his size beneath his pants, your core aches and you’re tugging roughly on his pants, desperate to feel him inside you. 

 

Then suddenly you’re left empty as Rick removes his finger from your dripping pussy and places both his hands under your ass. Without breaking away from your lips, he lifts you into the air and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you into your bedroom. His erection rubs against your entrance and your juices soak through his pants. You can’t wait any longer. As soon as he drops you onto the bed, you yank his pants down, gasping as his erection springs free in front of your face. Without a second thought, you shift off of the bed and onto your knees, Rick standing over you. Locking your eyes onto his, you flick the tip of your tongue over the very tip of his cock and listen in ecstasy to Rick’s quickening breaths and low moans as you tease the length of his cock with your tongue, running right to the base before hungrily licking his full balls. After a few moments, he slides one hand through your hair while the other grips your chin, pulling your face firmly but gently back up to the tip of his cock. Understanding what he wants, you don’t hesitate to grant his wish, wrapping your lips around his head and taking as much of his length as you can until the taste of his precum hits the back of your throat. Rick throws his head back with a deep moan and grabs both of your hands in a vice-grip as you begin to slide him in and out of your mouth, your tongue constantly exploring every inch of him. You feel him getting even harder in your mouth and suddenly your core aches to be filled by him. Releasing him with a small ‘pop’, you meet his eyes and your heart leaps at the lust in his as he looks down at you with a hunger that makes your walls tremble inside you.

 

Grabbing you by the shoulders, Rick pulls you up and pushes you down onto the bed, a new force in his desperation that only makes you more impatient for him. You pull him onto you and he slides himself between your legs, sucking and biting between your cleavage as his hands travel down to your thighs and flip your dress up over your hips, exposing the red lace panties Negan picked out for you that are now soaked through with your juices. Your stomach drops and suddenly all the warmths is disappearing from your body as Rick stops in his tracks, gaping at them with a horrible expression of hatred and hurt. You bury your face in your hands and feel the tears start to burn in your eyes.

 

‘Did he… did he make you wear these… f-for him?’ Rick whispers through gritted teeth. 

 

‘I didn’t have any choice Rick, I’m s-so sorry, please…’ you sob through your hands, the tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. After a few moments of silence you know Rick must despise you. You wait for him to leave in disgust, knowing you’ll never see him again. You’ll be collected by Negan and you’ll spend the rest of your life at the Sanctuary. You’d rather starve in that cell than succumb to Negan’s desires, but you know that he will find a way to make you his eventually. Whatever it takes. 

 

But Rick doesn’t leave you. A warm hand gently prises yours from your face and you gulp down your sobs as you look up at him, his face inches from yours and etched with sadness but also an understanding kindness.

 

‘It’s okay Y/N, it’s not your fault,’ he says softly, stroking away your tears with his thumb as he cups your face.

 

‘I’m so sorry,’ you whisper. 

 

‘You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m going to get you out, I promise. I’ll find a way,’ he mumbles in a low voice before pressing his lips tenderly onto yours. The warmth spreads through your chest as your heart constricts in a mixture of pain and longing. His kiss grows deeper and you pull him into you, wrapping your fingers in his hair as his arms curl around your back, tugging your hips into his. You can feel his bare cock rubbing teasingly against the lace of your panties and the heat you felt before begins to build again. One hand runs over the curve of your ass as the other travels down your sides to your thighs, tracing small circles with a light finger that makes shivers run down your spine. Slowly Rick moves up to your waist, hooks the lace between his fingers and tugs the panties down your legs. You kick them off, exposing your bare pussy to his wandering hands which now grab your thighs and push them apart, spreading your legs and your entrance. 

 

Suddenly you’re gasping for air, your back arching against the bed, waves of pleasure rolling over you with dizzying intensity as Rick sucks on your clit and delves a finger into your entrance, pumping it back and forth until your walls begin to convulse and the sensations in your clit become almost unbearable. Then he removes his finger and his beard tickles your folds as he dips his tongue into your entrance, lapping hungrily at your juices and sending vibrations through to your core with his deep moans. You grip the sheets and his name leaves your lips without your notice as your walls begin to convulse around his tongue in an ecstatic climax. 

 

But before you have a chance to catch your breath, Rick’s mouth is on yours, his tongue pushing past your lips so you can taste yourself on him. Your climax is barely over before the heat begins to build for a third time as Rick teasingly prods your entrance with the tip of his dripping cock. He pulls back just for a moment to search your eyes questioningly. You nod at him, holding your breath as you wait desperately to feel him enter you. He holds your gaze as he plunges his cock slowly, inch by inch into your pussy. You feel your walls stretching to accommodate his girth, your eyes rolling back and your mouth gaping open as he fills you completely. He stays there for a moment, brushing his lips tenderly along your jaw line as one hand loses itself in your hair and the other gently grips your hip. Then he begins to pull out, tantalisingly slowly, making sure you feel every single inch of him rubbing against your walls, pulling out all the way to the tip before plunging back inside you, knocking the air from your lungs and eliciting a loud whimper from your lips. As he gradually begins to build the pace you feel his cock harden inside you, filling you with every thrust. His tongue finds your ear and his deep moans send waves of heat and shivers through your entire body. You grip his back, digging your fingers into his skin as you feel his toned muscles flex with his movements, his thrusts getting faster and faster until you’re both panting and groaning each other’s names into the air. Your lips find his as your walls begin to convulse around him. He gasps and you feel his cock start to throb inside you. He breaks away from you and buries his teeth into your neck as you climax together, riding it out in sheer euphoria until you collapse beside each other in heap.

 

After your breathing has calmed down and the sensations have subsided, leaving behind a contented drowsiness, you turn your head to Rick lying beside you. His eyes are closed and for a few minutes you simply watch his chest rising and falling, gradually slowing down as he recovers from his release. 

 

‘I will get you out, Y/N,’ he says quietly, not opening his eyes. You reach out to stroke his face and he takes your hand, holding it to his cheek and rubbing his thumb soothingly across the back. ‘I will find a way. I promise.’

Chapter Text

Knock, knock, knock.

 

You wake with a start. Last night comes rushing back to you in a flood. You’d fallen asleep almost straight away after Rick had made his promise to free you from Negan; you couldn’t remember having slept so peacefully. Rick lies beside you, one arm draped over your stomach, his face smooth and untroubled. 

 

‘Guys, get up! He’s here!’ Someone whispers through the door, knocking again with more urgency. Cradled in Rick’s arms last night you’d completely forgotten the outside world, from the walkers to the Saviors — it had all vanished. For a few blissful hours you’d been protected in your bubble. But now it had to burst.

 

‘Rick… Rick!’ You whisper, shaking Rick’s shoulder. He stirs with a small groan then sits bolt upright. You see your fear reflected in his face. ‘We have to go!’ 

 

Without another word, the two of you scramble to collect your clothes. Once you’ve slid the tight, red dress over your body and replaced the red lace panties, you and Rick rush for the door just as the knock comes again. You gasp in horror as Rick opens it to reveal Dwight. 

 

‘Hurry up, he’s almost at the gates,’ he whispers to Rick, avoiding your eye completely. To your surprise, rather than punching him in the face because you’d just been discovered doing exactly what Negan had warned you not to do, Rick slaps Dwight on the shoulder with an air of gratitude. Then he turns to you and pulls you into a deep but brief kiss, and your chest aches for more. He looks at you for a moment, cradling your face in his strong hands, gives you a small nod which you return with the best look of determination and courage you can muster. Then he’s gone. Dwight turns to you, staring at the floor.

 

‘Wait here ’til I come get you,’ and he’s gone too. Your mind races, trying to catch up with what just happened. Was Dwight on your side and working with Rick? You can’t see how or why he would risk betraying Negan… unless he’s playing Rick on Negan’s orders and his plan is to tell him about your little indiscretion with Rick once you’ve returned to the confines of the Sanctuary, where Rick can’t protect you… You feel your heart pounding violently against your chest, nausea rolling over you in waves as you begin to shake. 

 

No. You have to calm yourself. Thinking over the plan you and Rick hatched last night slows down your breathing a little and clears the panic building in your head. Your best hope is the performance you put on for Negan — you have to convince him that he’s winning you over. But you can’t be too obvious and immediately relent to his demands or he’ll suspect you’re acting, and as he seems to enjoy watching you struggle it will only make your eventual subjugation more convincing. Nevertheless, he still needs to see that you took his threat seriously, that he’s rattled you, that he’s close to breaking you. Then, once you’ve gained his trust and perhaps some degree of freedom to at least leave his room unaccompanied, Rick will come and get you and take you back to where you belong. From there, you’ll plan your revolt against the Saviors.

 

What feels like hours pass as you stand there, motionless, listening to your heartbeat over the mounting activity outside. You hear the distant sound of trucks and the sharp grating of the gate being opened, followed by the banging of car doors and a chorus of guns clicking as the Saviors point them at the Alexandrians. For a moment there’s silence. Then comes the familiar arrogant drool that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

 

‘I’ve come to collect my goodies, Prick!’ Negan crows, loud enough for the whole square to hear in the still air. 

 

The sound of footsteps on the stairs breaks your focus and your heart-rate doubles. Rushing to compose yourself, you harden your expression just as Dwight appears in the doorway. He meets your eyes for one silent moment and you suddenly sense the sorrow washing off of him as he looks at you. He understands. In you he sees his wife. Who’s now dead because of Negan. He might be alone but now Negan holds no leverage over him. He no longer belongs to him. You nod your head, trying to convey your new understanding and the overwhelming gratitude you suddenly feel for him; he really had been trying to take care of you all along. A new wave of confidence and determination rushes through you as you follow Dwight out of the house and into the gentle orange glow of the morning sun. At least you’ll have a friend beside you through this.

 

Negan stands in front of his entourage of thugs, three trucks parked in a line just inside Alexandria’s walls, blocking the gate in an effective show of their offensive capabilities. At least two dozen of Negan’s men have come to watch the show, each of them armed to the teeth. Meanwhile the residents of Alexandria stand several yards behind Rick, looking comparatively malnourished and weak with only a handful of knives between them. Your blood boils at the sight, but you maintain your composure and walk resolutely towards Negan. 

 

‘Good girl, you kept that dress on just for me? Well ain’t it my lucky day,’ he coos salaciously, trailing his eyes up and down your body as he licks his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before flashing you a row of perfect white teeth in his signature devilish grin, the lust in his eyes burning for everyone to see. You feel a deep blush creeping up your cheeks but refuse to drop your gaze to the ground and display your embarrassment. Rick will convince everyone of your innocence in this, but you’re not about to let Negan make you roll over in front of them just to prove you now belong to him. Or so he thinks. 

 

As you reach his side, Dwight standing slightly behind you, Negan’s gaze lingers on you for a moment before turning to face Rick. His face is hardened, his jaw clenched. He doesn’t tear his eyes from Negan, not even to meet your stare. You can see the hatred and defiance rolling off of him and unfortunately Negan notices it too. From the corner of your eye you see Negan’s eyes narrow and his lips curl into a harsh sneer. He steps slowly and deliberately towards Rick who stands his ground, his hand resting on the hatchet at his hip. You know he’s calculating what the chances would be of him successfully driving it through Negan’s skull before two dozen bullets tore him apart. As though he’s read Rick’s mind, Negan brings Lucille down from her resting place on his shoulder to point directly at Rick, the tip of the wire-wrapped bat now only inches from Rick’s face. But Rick continues to stare at Negan as though he does not notice the threat in front of him.

 

‘I don’t like the way you’re looking at me, Prick. Not. One. Bit,’ Negan growls in a low voice, his controlled anger just palpable enough to make the Alexandrians shrink back a little.

 

‘Take her Negan, she’s yours. Just know that one day… I’m gonna kill you,’ Rick says quietly, but the threat in his voice is real and strong. A terror rises in you alongside the thrill of adrenaline; half of you wants to give in to the fight building in your body, but the other half wants to throw yourself at Negan’s feet, begging to leave Rick alone and promising to do anything he wants if it keeps Rick safe. But you stay rooted to the spot, trying to control your breathing and keep your fists from clenching. 

 

Negan lowers Lucille slowly to his side. The whole square is silent and the tension tangible as everyone watches, waiting for Negan’s reaction. He lets out a low chuckle and a grin spreads across his face.

 

‘Now Rick, I can’t have that,’ he says almost jovially. Your stomach squirms as Negan turns to look at you, tracing his tongue across his teeth. Then his gaze flits back to Rick again and something flashes across his face. His eyes darken and his grin falls into a look of fury as realisation dawns over him. 

 

You’ve lost already. But how could he possibly know? Panic builds up inside you like bile in your throat and it takes everything you have to keep it from showing on your face. If Negan guesses, you’re surely dead. Or else Rick is. 

 

Negan strides slowly over to you until his body is so close to yours you can feel his heat radiating from him, and the smell of leather, whisky and cigarettes fills your nostrils. You stare fixedly ahead of you, your eyeline reaching his leather-wrapped chest. 

 

‘Look at me, darlin’,’ he growls commandingly in his deep, gravelly voice. When you don’t obey, he grabs your chin in a rough hand and tugs your head up so that you’re forced to look directly at him. He searches your eyes, his hot breath tickling your face and the intensity of his stare sending shivers through your body as your heart pounds loudly in your chest. Your throat has gone dry and you swallow, praying that your fear doesn’t give you away. 

 

‘Did you fuck him?’ Negan suddenly shouts, his deep voice booming through the still air and making you jump. 

 

‘No, Negan… I s-swear,’ you stammer, your composure suddenly crumbling. To your surprise, he drops your face and steps now in front of Dwight, shoving his face aggressively close to his so that they’re almost nose-to-nose.

 

‘Did she fuck him, Dwight?’ He growls quietly, the sudden change in his voice setting you even more on edge. His anger and unpredictability terrifies you more than any walker. 

 

Dwight looks Negan straight in the eye and says in a low but firm voice, ‘No, sir. I was outside her room all night to make sure.’ After a moment that seems to stretch on forever, Negan nods once then steps back and looks from you to Rick, tracing the tip of his tongue along his lower lip. 

 

‘Well Prick, looks like you’ve been a good boy after all,’ he says, his playful tone back in place as he thrusts his hips forwards and swings Lucille casually by his side. You exhale in relief, only now realising you’d been holding your breath. Negan swaggers over towards Rick and your stomach flips in fear, but then he’s moving straight past him towards the huddle of Alexandrians. The whoosh of Lucille flying through the air, the deafening sound of a skull cracking and a body hits the floor. Five more cracks and the blood-curdling sound of an agonised scream somewhere in the distance fill the orange sky. Denise, the woman who had pulled the bullet from your leg, lies in a blossoming pool of blood, her face now unrecognisable.

 

‘Now if I learn that you two did have some fucking fun time together, that head that’s now spewing out brains will be her’s,’ Negan growls playfully, pointing a blood-stained Lucille directly at you.

Chapter Text

How did it come back to this? You sit curled up against the hard stone wall, your knees tucked under your chin and your head resting on your arms, your eyes wide in search for some glimpse of light in the impenetrable darkness. Your aching limbs cry desperately to be moved but you haven’t been able to unstick yourself from this position since you were dumped here by one of Negan’s men. For some unknown reason, Dwight has been replaced as your jailor by a man named Simon. The terrified part of you wonders whether Dwight is dead, or perhaps sporting some new scar to match his maimed face. On the way back to the Sanctuary, you had been surprised by the fact that Negan hadn’t immediately snaked his arm around your waist and not let go of you. But instead you had been ordered into the back of an open pick-up truck with only Dwight to guard you. The deafening rumble of the truck’s engine had allowed you to exchange a brief conversation about what the hell was going to happen next.

 

‘He won’t take you back straight away, Y/N. He plays the long game,’ Dwight had said in a tone so low that it almost matched the pitch of the truck’s droning engine, and you’d had to lean in as close as you dare to hear him without giving away to the truck following behind you that you were talking. Keeping your lips as still as possible, you’d replied, ’What do you mean?’ 

 

‘It’s all about breaking you,’ Dwight had said with a resigned sigh. ‘He let you stay at Alexandria so the memory of what you’ve lost is sharper in your mind as he makes his next move, to show you you’re not in control anymore. And that neither is Rick. Those threats, that murder… it’s all to keep you lot in line. He’s never wasteful when he kills — each one has a purpose.’

 

‘I’ve made a plan with Rick. I’m going to let Negan think he’s won me over, that he controls me, whatever it is he’s after. Then once I earn some freedom through his trust, Rick’s going to break me out and we’re going to take the Saviors down.’

 

Dwight had closed his eyes and sighed again. ‘You don’t think it’ll work? Then tell me whose side you’re on, Dwight!’ You’d said angrily through gritted teeth.

 

‘I’m with Rick. With you. I want Negan dead, but you don’t understand. He gets people, he knows how they think, and he knows exactly what it takes to make them his. Negan won’t leave you alone, he won’t allow you any freedom ’til he believes you’re loyal to him. With you, he doesn’t even seem to need any leverage. Sure he’s threatened Rick, but he needs Rick alive to keep Alexandria in tow. He needs the supply. For whatever reason, Negan’s sees something in you that can be persuaded to his side without properly threatening anyone you care about.’

 

At this point you’d dropped your face to the floor to conceal your blush as the memory of the orgasm Negan had coaxed out of you and the disappointment that had followed when he’d denied you feeling any satisfaction or release from it by punishing you, only making you somehow more desperate for his pleasure, crashed over you in a sickening realisation. Dwight was right. Negan had spotted your weakness, your darkness. Twisted though it may be, it’s all he needs to bend you to his will and make you his. But then you remember your night with Rick, the softness of his affection and passion of his touch and you felt a deep shame roll over you.

 

‘I’ll do everything I can to help you Y/N, but I can’t promise I’ll be much use. I doubt Negan will trust me with you now, he’s suspicious of you and Rick. I’ll try talk to Rick next time I’m collecting supplies from Alexandria, but if you two are serious about fighting Negan, you’ve only got one shot. And one of you will probably die,’ Dwight had said in a flat voice, pulling you from your spiralling. 

 

He was right, you think as you adjust your back against the wall of your cell. It’s only a matter of time before Negan breaks you completely, and you have no idea what sort of person you’ll be by the end. But you’re not going to go down without a fight. 

 

The door in front of you opens with a hideous scrape, breaking you out of your reverie.

 

‘How’re we doin’ in here?’ Comes Simon’s condescending drool of Simon. His protruding forehead and obnoxiously large, black moustache swim into view and he looks down at you with a cold, twisted smile, bearing a tray of food and water. ‘Hungry?’

 

You say nothing, rest your face in your arms wrapped around your knees and wait for him to leave.

 

‘Okay then, see you same time tomorrow sweetheart,’ he says cheerfully and shuts the door again, taking the tray with him.

 

The next day passes the same, but by the third you can feel your body shutting down. Every inch of you aches with dehydration and you can barely open your eyes for the pain of the light streaming through the door as Simon opens it, bearing the same tray. 

 

‘Right, Negan says if you don’t at least drink something you’re gonna die, so just take the fuckin’ tray darlin’ and save me the trouble of having to kill your walker ass tomorrow,’ he says exasperatedly. You don’t respond. You have no desire to die, but nor do you want to do anything that’ll please Negan. Simon lets out a loud sigh and drops down in front of you, puts the tray beside you and picks up the bottle of water, holding it right in front of your face. 

 

‘Come on for fuck’s sake, don’t make me force it down your fuckin’ throat honey,’ he says in a patronising tone that makes your toes curl. With another sigh, Simon taps the top of the bottle on your forehead three times, mimicking a knock. ‘Anyone in there?’

 

‘Leave me alone,’ you croak, your throat is so dry that you’re barely audible. Simon laughs and the noise assaults your ears like a siren as the ache in your head swells. 

 

Then suddenly he grabs your hair with a rough hand and tugs, pulling your head up out of your arms to look at him. In a split second act of defiance, you spit directly in his face. You know you’ve gone too far. Dropping your head to wipe it from his face, he gets to his feet and towers above you. You can only make out the blur of his silhouette against the light spilling though the open door, your eyes stinging but dry from your dehydration.

 

‘You wanna play it that way, huh?’ Simon leers. You wait for the inevitable price you’ll have to pay for your stunt, and somewhere your brain registers fear, but your body and mind are tired and heavy with exhaustion and dehydration and you know you won’t be able to fight whatever he throws at you. But then the sound of a belt unbuckling stirs something else inside you, a deeper terror that runs right to your bones, and you look up to see Simon unzipping his pants above you. 

 

‘I’ll give you something to eat, you little bitch,’ he sneers at you. He has your head in his hands before you can move, and straddles his legs either side of you. You try to muster a scream but your throat is completely dry. Just as he reaches one hand down to pull on your chin and force open your mouth, a loud bang on the door makes you jump and Simon release you and whip round, hurriedly zipping up his pants.

 

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doin’, Simon?’ Comes a deep, gravelly growl from the door. Your aching eyes can’t make out anything more than his silhouette, but you recognise his voice, his smell, the stance of his hips thrust slightly forward, the outline of a baseball bat resting on the door. To your immense surprise you feel the most welcome wave of relief washing away your sickened fear.

 

‘Sorry boss, I was just tryin’ to get her to drink somethin’. She’s refusin’,’ Simon stammers, hastily refastening his belt. 

 

‘Get the fuck out, you disgustin’ piece o’ shit. I’ll deal with you later,’ Negan growls, the menace in his voice making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Simon doesn’t wait to be told twice and is out of the door in a flash. Negan waits until the sound of his footsteps has disappeared before dropping down in front of you. He places Lucille carefully on the floor behind him and reaches a hand for your face. You flinch instinctively but his touch is uncharacteristically gentle as he strokes the back of his finger lightly across your cheek. Then he places his palm softly on your forehead.

 

‘Damn girl, you’re burnin’ up,’ he says quietly, the playful tone suddenly seeming much less sinister following Simon’s voice which still rings in your ears. ‘You need to drink somethin’ darlin’.’

 

‘Leave me alone,’ you repeat in a hoarse whisper, shrugging off his hand and burying your face back in your arms. 

 

‘I can’t doll,’ Negan says with a soft chuckle, ‘you’ll die if I leave you here.’

 

‘You’re the one who put me here, why do you care?’ You hiss back at him.

 

‘I ain’t goin’ through all this effort just to let you die in a fuckin’ cell, doll. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll fix you up.’ Negan gets to his feet and you look up to see him offering a hand to you. Your mind is too heavy and exhausted to wonder whether this might be a trap. His sudden gentleness has taken you off guard, and he saved you from Simon’s attack. For better or worse, you decide to comply. Taking his hand, he hauls you slowly to your feet but you stumble as your head begins to spin and your aching legs give way beneath you.

 

‘I got ya, doll,’ Negan growls in his deep voice, wrapping one arm around your back and hooking the other behind your knees. Before you have a chance to protest, he’s lifting you up with apparent ease and cradling you against his chest. The smell of leather and cigarettes washes over you as your head falls against his shoulder. The heat from his exposed neck is oddly comforting and his strong arms hold you remarkably steady as he turns to leave the cell.

 

‘What about Lucille?’ You mumble croakily. 

 

‘I’ll get her in a sec, let’s sort your pathetic ass out first doll,’ he growls, not bothering to conceal the amusement in his tone, although his voice is still softer than usual. You know that later you’ll feel pathetic and ashamed, and probably incredibly angry about this, but right now all your exhausted mind can focus on is his intoxicating smell and the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you. 

Chapter Text

You wake up in the warmest and softest bed you’ve ever felt beneath you. It was perhaps even more comfortable than the bed you’d had before the world turned. For several long minutes you simply lie there, relishing in the comfort and the fact that the aching weight had almost completely disappeared from your body. 

 

As you slowly come to your senses, you notice a small tugging sensation in your arm. And you hear whistling. You instantly freeze as the memory of Negan carrying you out of that cell catches up to you. Horror spreads through you like ice as you come to the sickening realisation that this must be his bed you’re lying in. His whistling you can hear from somewhere across the room. 

 

As carefully as you can, you move your hand under the covers to feel what it is that’s tugging on your arm, and your fingers wrap around a thin tube attached to a needle. You wince slightly as you slowly drag it out of your skin, and looking up you see a drip standing beside your bed. You have to marvel at the resources Negan must have in this place if he could afford to put you on a drip, but now you’re rehydrated, your muscles have just enough strength to give you the courage to sit up and confront him. Your throat, however, is still drier than sandpaper so your voice comes out in the same hoarse croak as before, only making you feel more pathetic and angry.

 

‘What am I doing here?’ You croak as loudly as you can. Negan stands at the kitchen-like area of his enormous room, sprinkling something over two plates of what looks like chilli. A delicious smell reaches your nose and your stomach groans loudly. Apparently having heard it, Negan lets out a low chuckle as he picks up the loaded plates and walks over to the coffee table sat between his two couches before returning to the sink. On the table you spot the water jug complete with ice and lemon, and the scratching in your throat seems to double, as though screaming for you to run over there and down the lot. 

 

‘I made you dinner,’ he says in a playful voice, his southern accent adding to the slightly condescending drool, although there’s still the same softness to it that you’d heard earlier. It baffles you but you know better than to trust him. So you make your decision. Remembering what Dwight had said about Negan playing the long game, you intend to act upon the resistance part of your performance so that Negan wouldn’t get suspicious by your sudden compliance given that he’d just murdered your friend right in front of you and threatened to do the same to you in front of Rick.

 

‘No thank you,’ you say in a polite voice in the hope that your cool refusal of his hospitality will annoy him. 

 

Swinging your legs out of bed, you head towards the coffee table, your eyes fixed on the water jug. Half way across the floor you realise you’re still in the tight red dress Negan had made you wear. Making every effort to maintain your composure as you feel Negan’s eyes follow your movements, you sit yourself on the edge of the couch with your back to him, grab the jug and down it in one go. Then you place it back on the table and sit back into the cushions with your legs and arms crossed, trying to hide as much of your exposed flesh as possible. 

 

Negan says nothing in response to your rebuff, and reaches over the couch from directly behind you, deliberately bending as close to you as possible so that his leather-wrapped chest almost brushes against your cheek and his intoxicating aroma fills your lungs. He lets out a small, deep groan as he stretches to reach for the jug on the table and your breath catches in your throat as the sound immediately brings the memory of your last experience on this very couch rushing to the surface — the moans he’d made as he’d reached his finger deeper and deeper inside you… 

 

You scrunch up your face in an effort to block the images from your mind, remembering Rick and how he had made you feel, and most importantly remembering your plan. You shuffle further up the couch, away from his proximity as he grabs the jug and turns to the sink to refill it. When he reaches back over you again to return it to the table — despite the fact that he could simply walk around the couch to get to it — he tips the jug just enough to send a wave of ice-cold water splashing down your front. 

 

‘Oh I’m sorry doll, look at me bein’ all clumsy!’ He coos mockingly as he sets the jug back on the table and struts around it to sit on the couch opposite you. You can’t hide the blush creeping up your face as you watch Negan’s eyes follow the drops of water running down through your cleavage. Your dress is soaked through, making your nipples poke through the wet material. You want desperately to cover yourself up, but you can’t give Negan the satisfaction of seeing how uncomfortable and vulnerable he makes you feel. Instead you stare him down, working to keep your face as hard as possible as you watch him trace his tongue along his lower lip before taking it between his teeth, his eyes roaming over you unashamedly. 

 

‘Damn girl, you’re makin’ me fuckin’ thirsty,’ he growls, lust creeping into his playful tone. He reaches for the water jug so you lunge forward to grab it and down the lot right in front of him, maintaining eye contact as you drink deliberately slowly until the last drop is gone. Then you pick up his glass and tip the ice cubes and lemon into it.

 

‘Guess you’ll have to wait for it to melt,’ you say in an overtly flirty tone, leaning forwards to show off your cleavage as you place his glass in front of him. His eyes flash and a low growl sounds in his chest as he regards you with the same look he gave Rick when Rick said he would kill him. You swallow the fear rising in your throat and stare back at him, silence stretching between you as your heart pounds faster and faster in your ears. If he’s going to try to humiliate you, you will just have to do the same to him.

 

‘Eat,’ Negan orders, the command in his voice replacing his previous playfulness. You ignore his order and continue to stare at him, trying desperately to keep your breathing even as his face suddenly breaks out into a devilish grin, running his tongue over his perfect white teeth and cocking his head to one side as he watches your silent rebellion.

 

‘Look doll, this is only going one of two ways. Either you eat with me, or I put you back in that cell and who knows… I might no be there to save your fuckin’ ass the next time you piss off Simon,’ Negan says playfully. His mood swings give you whiplash and your stiff composure crumbles as a burst of rage suddenly breaks through. Somehow you feel betrayed.

 

‘So not only are you not going to punish him, but you’d let him try it again? How fucking twisted are you?!’ You spit, your voice rising in anger. ‘I get why you kill people Negan, you’re the big, bad fucking wolf who has to keep his sheep in line — but this?! Why do you fucking want me? You have a hoard of wives under your command, ready to do any of the twisted, fucked up shit you fancy. What could I possibly give you that you don’t already have?’ You realise you’re now standing, bearing over him with your fists clenched at your sides.

 

This is why I want you Y/N,’ he grins up at you, leaning back into the cushions with his hands behind his head, thoroughly enjoying the show.

 

‘What? You like seeing me pissed off at you, is that it? Does it give you a good fucking kick?’ You shout at him, striding around the table and coming to stand in front of him threateningly close. But Negan doesn’t even flinch. His eyes light up with lust as he scans over your body, your chest heaving in fury, the heat of anger in your eyes. 

 

‘See doll, you’re right. I am the big, bad fuckin’ wolf and you know the problem with sheep?’ He asks suddenly genially, leaning forward until his face is level with your waist. You stand your ground despite his proximity, too angry to shy away now. ‘They’re all the fuckin’ same. But you… you, Y/N, are somethin’ else. You don’t take shit and you sure as hell ain’t afraid of me.’

 

The sudden sincerity in his voice and expression takes you off guard and before you know what you’re saying you blurt out, ‘I am afraid of you.’ 

 

Negan chuckles softly, a mischievous smile spreading across his face as he leans back into the cushions, spreading his legs wide and resting his hands behind his head again. He surveys you with a cocky grin, licking his lips slowly and deliberately as he trails his eyes up your body before meeting your stare.

 

‘You wanna bet?’ He growls in a low voice. You take a small, subconscious step back, wary of the direction this was heading. But your anger dominates and the adrenaline coursing through you is desperate for a fight. He takes your silence as his invitation to continue.

 

‘I bet you you’re not as afraid of me as you think. I bet there’s a big part o’ you that wants to show off how fuckin’ strong you really are. And…’ he leans forwards, his face inches from your groin. With one finger he brushes lightly along your thigh just below the hem of your dress, looking down at your legs as he traces his tongue along his lower lip before biting it gently between his teeth. Then his eyes move slowly up your body until they meet yours, not hiding the intensity of his lust and hunger from his gaze. ‘...I bet you’ll do anything I ask just to prove it.’

Chapter Text

Negan sits patiently waiting for you answer, still tracing his finger ever so lightly back and forth along the hem of your dress and leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps behind. His breath tickles the inside of thighs, sending ripples of anticipation to your core.

 

‘What’ll it be darlin’, you gonna prove me wrong?’ He mocks, that devilish grin spreading beneath his trimmed salt-and-pepper beard, sparking both anger and inexplicable lust inside you. ‘Wanna run away back to your cell and refuse to eat or drink anythin’ cos’ you’re too damn pussy to face me?’

 

‘I’m not a fucking pussy,’ you say quietly through gritted teeth, anger and desire bubbling inside you in a terrifying concoction. ‘And I am not afraid of facing a smug asshole like you.’ 

 

‘I don’t believe you darlin’,’ he growls nonchalantly, letting go of you and leaning back into the cushions with his hands behind his head as he surveys you with cocky condescension. He makes your blood boil. He’s touched a nerve. You’d always hated it when people assumed you to be weak, when they told you you couldn’t do something because you weren’t strong enough or you were too afraid. But Negan isn’t going to win this one. You know you’re not afraid of him because right now you can’t decide between punching the smug grin off of his face, or jumping his bones. The last thing you want to do is run away and hide.

 

Keeping your eyes trained on his, you slowly reach a hand down to the hem of your dress and begin to tug it up your thigh, steadily revealing more and more flesh until just a hint of your red panties is on show. Negan licks his lips as his eyes follow your movements. Then he lunges forward and grabs your hand, stopping you in your tracks. He looks up at you with a dangerous expression on his face that sends shivers of anticipation down your spine. Suddenly your breathing is much less even as his touch sets your skin ablaze.

 

‘I said you’ll do anythin’ I ask if you wanna prove to me you’re not a weak ass fuckin’ pussy,’ he growls in a deep voice. ‘That means I’m in charge darlin’. You got that?’ You nod, trying to calm your rapid heartbeat pounding in your chest. You’ll let him think he’s in charge.

 

‘Turn around,’ Negan orders, a sharp commanding edge to his voice that sends another ripple through your body, this time coming to settle in your core. You do as he says, slowly pivoting on the spot so that your tightly-wrapped ass, barely covered by the dress, is directly in front of Negan’s face. 

 

‘Bend over,’ he growls, his breathing getting heavier. You bite your lip as you obey, willing your legs to keep from shaking as anticipation builds inside you. His breath on your skin tells you his face is close, then you feel the dress sliding up your body over your ass, revealing your panties. Negan lets out a soft moan in his deep, gravelly voice that makes you shudder as another ripple of heat rushes to your core.

 

‘That’s a fine fuckin’ sight,’ he whispers, his lips brushing your skin and his beard tickling you as he talks, trailing a finger up from the back of your knee to the inside of your thigh and coming to rest just over your clit. He presses the little bundle of nerves slightly against the fabric of your panties, and the sudden pressure causes you to gasp involuntarily. Negan chuckles softly in response.

 

‘If you’re a good girl, I might even let you cum doll, would you like that?’ He growls, rubbing your clit in light tiny circles that make you crave more. You resist the temptation to push into his finger to create more friction. 

 

‘Answer me,’ he growls authoritatively, suddenly grabbing your hips with his rough hands, jerking you back upright and spinning you around to face him. Your jaw drops slightly at the sight of Negan firmly holding your hips as he looks up at you, his face directly in front of your pussy. With one hand he fiddles teasingly with the lace of your panties while the other squeezes your hip with bruising force. 

 

‘Yes please,’ you breathe, your breath ragged and your mind fogging with a mounting desire that starts to obscure your anger with him. Negan flashes a row of perfect teeth as he growls softly, ‘Only if you do every fuckin’ thing I tell you.’

 

You nod your assent, your body aching for some release from the tension and anticipation filling every inch of you as his touches awaken a wildness inside of you. You try to focus on the cause of your anger: playing the one card that would make you do anything to prove yourself by wagering your dignity that you weren’t strong enough to handle him. But the heat rising inside you blurs your thoughts.

 

‘Good girl,’ he moans, leaning into your belly so that his beard tickles you through your lace panties, his lips almost touching the skin just above them. 

 

‘Wh-what do you want me to do, sir?’ His grin widens at your use of the title, pleased that you remember his liking for it last time.

 

‘I want you to beg for me, doll,’ Negan whispers, deliberately blowing on your skin and watching the goosebumps rise.

 

‘Please,’ you say in your best whimpering voice. Negan meets your eyes for a moment, then pulls away, sitting back into the couch with a disappointed look on his face. Your anger suddenly returns to you but simultaneously, ridiculously, you have a desperate desire to please him.

 

‘No darlin’, I want you beggin’ like you’re pleadin’ for you fuckin’ life,’ he growls menacingly, pulling you closer to the couch with his feet around your legs so that your knees are touching the edge, Negan’s legs on either side of yours. ‘And by the time I’m done with you, you’re not gonna be half actin’ like you are now.’

 

You shudder at the hint of threat in his voice, but it only makes you more determined to prove him wrong. You’ll do what he says because you’re strong enough to handle him, and you try to convince yourself you’re strong enough to keep a handle on yourself too, whatever he does.

 

‘Now how about you make a bit of a show for me and take that gorgeous dress off your smokin’ body, doll?’ Negan growls, tracing his tongue along his lower lip before breaking out into a sly grin as he rests his hands lazily behind his head. 

 

You oblige. Teasingly fingering the hem of your dress that now rests just above your panties, you wiggle your hips playfully before turning to give Negan a side-view as you stick your ass out a little. His hungry eyes follow your movements like a hawk and he bites his lip, letting out a soft moan of approval in his deep, gravelly voice as his gaze runs over your curves.

As you tug your dress further up your stomach, you turn back to face him just and pull the material up enough to show just a hint of your breasts. You glance down at his crotch and notice the growing bulge stretching his pants, then you meet his gaze from beneath your eyelashes, biting your lip seductively to let him know you’ve seen his excitement. You feel your courage grow as you see how crazy you’re driving him with your teasing, giving you the power and control.

 

Resting the material of your dress just below your nipples so that he has enough hint of your breasts on show, you slowly climb onto the couch and straddle your legs either side of Negan’s hips, hovering yourself just above his crotch. He keeps his hands behind his head and devilish grin spreads across his face as he watches you running your hands over your body in front of him, wishing they were his. 

 

‘Well fuck doll, maybe I was wrong. You don’t seem that afraid of me now huh?’ He says in a deep growl. You shake you head, licking your lips seductively as you pull the dress over your head. 

 

‘Holy fuck girl,’ he moans, suddenly grabbing your hips and pulling you into him, crushing his lips onto yours. You can’t help the small whimper that escapes you as he traces his tongue over your lower lip before biting and sucking it hungrily. He runs his hands down your back, digging his fingernails into your skin and making you gasp and arch against his grip. Then suddenly you’re in the air, Negan’s hands tightly grasping your ass against his stomach as he stands up and carries you over to the bed, dropping you unceremoniously onto it as he finally breaks the kiss. You lay there on your back in nothing but your panties, Negan standing over you with a wild look on his face, the cool, composed, devilish grin replaced by a lust that makes your core ache while simultaneously chilling your blood. You’d never seen this look before and it felt even more unpredictable and dangerous than his usual playful charm and charisma. 

 

He takes no time stripping off his jacket and shirt and you catch yourself staring at him in awe. The sight of his toned muscles and tattoos awakes a primal hunger in you that can already feel breaking your seductive act. 

 

‘You make a delicious fuckin’ sight there, Y/N,’ he breathes heavily, running his hand through his hair and palming his bulge as he stares down at you. You’re suddenly too frightened to move, his lust and unbelievable body intimidates you but the ache in your core only grows the longer you listen to his heavy, ragged breaths. 

 

‘Get on your fuckin’ knees,’ Negan orders. You can’t seem to will your muscles to work and you simply stare up at him, eyes wide. The power you’d felt earlier in teasing him, doing what you can to prove to him that you’re not afraid of him, seems suddenly childish compared the power he now has over you. 

 

‘I said get on your fuckin’ knees,’ he growls, anger inflecting his lust. When you still don’t move he grabs your hips and picks you up with ease, standing you in front of him. He crushes his lips once to yours then, gripping a fistful of your hair he tugs your head back, making you gasp as you feel your scalp scream a little in protest. You feel his lips tracing down your neck, nibbling at the vein in your jugular and sending a wave of shivers rushing down your spine to settle in your core. Somehow your fear and powerlessness only increases your primal need for him, and it terrifies you. You feel the same conflict as you did with him before, your reason trying to fight that dark urge inside you, but you’re also determined to win his bet and prove to him — and most importantly yourself — that you’re not scared of him. That you’re different and you can challenge him.

 

Negan tugs hard on your hair, making you yelp in pain as he pulls you down in front of him, forcing you onto your knees. With his free hand, he yanks at his belt and unzips his pants, allowing his erection to spring free. Your eyes widen at his size but your throat suddenly constricts, terrified of what will happen next.

 

‘Get a good fuckin’ look at it darlin’,’ Negan growls with a cocky smirk, ‘you better fuckin’ take all of it in that pretty lil’ mouth of yours.’ Negan grabs your chin, forcing your mouth open, and you let out an involuntary whimper. 

 

‘Aw, you scared of me now, doll?’ He coos mockingly, gently nudging the tip of his huge cock on your cheek and leaving a drop of precum clinging to your skin. You feel your determination and anger return to you in response to his mocking, so you look him directly in his eyes and shake your head. 

 

‘Mm good girl,’ Negan growls in a low voice that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. In an effort to regain some small ounce of control, you stick out your tongue and flick it lightly across the tip of his cock, slurping up his precum and delighting in the deep, gravelly moans escaping his lips. 

 

Then before you know it, Negan is thrusting his full length inside, abusing your mouth as he hits the back of your throat over and over with punishing force. His deep grunts and your strangled gags fill the air, spit dribbling down your chin and into your cleavage as he mercilessly fucks your mouth. You feel him harden against your lips and tongue, his girth pushing your mouth open as wide as it can go.

 

‘Fuckin’ hell that’s good,’ Negan groans. You look up at him and watch as he throws his head back with another guttural moan. The sight sends a wave of arousal to your core and you suddenly feel a desperate desire to please him, to elicit more delicious sounds from him. He looks down at you and a devilish grin spreads across his face as he sees the lust now burning in your eyes. 

 

‘You look like you’re actually fuckin’ enjoyin’ this doll! I knew you couldn’t resist me for long,’ he says playfully with one final thrust that jabs the back of your throat. He holds himself there, listening to you gag around his length with an arrogantly satisfied smirk on his face.

 

‘But I think that’s enough for now, darlin’, Daddy’s got wives who need his attention more than you,’ Negan growls, pulling himself free with a ‘pop’ and tucking himself back in his pants. You’re stunned and your throat aches from his abuse, so the only noise you can make in protest is a pathetic gargling sound. 

 

‘Aw doll, don’t look at me like that!’ He says with a mock pout, bending down so his face is level with yours. He hooks a finger under your chin and says with a wink, ‘You’ve gotta fuckin’ earn it; baby.’ Then he’s gone, leaving you kneeling there in nothing but Negan’s red panties, spit dripping down your face and neck, staring at the door he’s just locked behind him.

Chapter Text

You don’t know how long you sit there staring at the door. Eventually the ache in your knees pushes you to your feet and your legs carry you over to the couch. You’re completely numb. The heat of your anger, defiance and inexplicable desire for Negan had been doused by the icy cold bucket of water Negan had chucked over you when he’d left, both of you unfinished. But he at least would get his release from one of his wives, while you are left there to feel the full force of your shame and unsatisfied lust. As your mind wanders to Rick, hot tears sting in the corners of your eyes and within seconds you’re wracked by a tidal wave of sobs. You don’t know how long you sit there, hands gripping your hair in tight fists, rocking back and forth on Negan’s couch as you cry yourself dry. Eventually darkness takes you.

 

‘Y/N, wake up,’ comes a soft voice somewhere close to your ear. You feel a hand gently shake your shoulder. You’re lying on the couch, curled up in a ball with your arms wrapped tightly around your knees. ‘Quickly, I don’t have much time.’

 

You begrudgingly open your eyes. Peering through your bleary tears you see the scarred face and shaggy blonde hair of Dwight just inches away. You jerk back instinctively, sitting up too quickly as your head spins. 

 

‘It’s okay, I’m on your side I swear,’ Dwight says in an urgent whisper. His eyes are full of pity and concern but you don’t trust him, even if Rick seems to.

 

‘What are you doing here? How did you get in?’ You whisper in a hoarse voice. 

 

‘I stole the key from Negan, but he’s gonna be back real soon you have to trust me. I’m gonna get you out of here.’ You stare at him in disbelief, shaking your head in an attempt to clear it. After he’d left you to Negan’s mercy once you’d returned to the Sanctuary, you’d assumed he was on Negan’s side all along, just playing Rick as some kind of double-agent. But if that were true, why would he go to the risk of stealing Negan’s key just to come to your rescue? None of it makes sense. 

 

‘Put these on, you can’t go out there like that,’ he says, handing you a pair of jeans, a shirt and some boots. ‘They should fit, you’re about the same size as Sherry. Those were hers.’

 

Sherry. Of course. She was dead because of Negan, after she’d been ripped away from Dwight to become one of his horde of wives. Of course he hated him, and now he had no one here to protect he didn’t have to be scared of him anymore.

 

‘Thank you,’ you whisper, trying to inject as much understanding and gratitude into those two words as possible. He meets your eyes for a moment and you know he’s understood. He gives you a nod and walks away to the kitchen area while you hastily shove the clothes on. You’re not even embarrassed to be found almost entirely naked. Dwight knows Negan and what he does to the women he fancies. He doesn’t think any the less of you. 

 

‘Come on, we have to leave now if we’re gonna make it. Negan is out on a run but he’ll be back in less than an hour. If we’re lucky, we’ll be well away from here by then. I’ve got a truck waiting,’ Dwight says in a low voice, rushing around the kitchen collecting food into a rucksack. You have to admire his nerve for not only breaking you out but stealing directly from Negan’s own personal stores.

 

‘Where are we going?’ You ask, hastily shoving on the boots. Dwight stops for a moment, eyes running over your body as you stand there in his dead wife’s clothes. You pretend you didn’t see the sadness cross his face as he quickly recomposes himself and replies, ‘Hilltop. Jesus is going to meet you half way and that’s where I’ll leave you. He’ll take you back and hide you — Negan doesn’t ever go there, only his men when they’re collecting supplies. You should be safe, and Rick will be there soon to tell you the plan.’

 

Your heart skips at the mention of Rick, but your moment of elation is clouded by the intensity of your shame at what happened with Negan last night, the pleasure and desire you felt at his hands. Burying those thoughts for now, you try to focus on what’s happening. 

 

‘What plan?’ You whisper, stomach turning in fear.

 

‘We’re gonna bring down the Saviors. We’re gonna kill Negan.’ There’s no doubt in Dwight’s eyes. He means it. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

 


 

You throw yourself into the back of the truck in the nick of time. A guard comes out and accosts Dwight, but he doesn’t seem to have spotted you.

 

‘Where’re you goin’, D? Ain’t you meant to be guardin’ that new chick o’ Negan’s?’ Comes a slimy drool. You lie flat on your stomach, not daring to breathe. If the guard were to look through the back window he’d be sure to spot you, and you and Dwight would both be finished.

 

‘Relax Tony, I’m just heading up to that old pharmacy a couple of miles up the road,’ Dwight says nonchalantly.

 

‘What for?’ Barks the man named Tony.

 

‘Negan instructed I take care of her every need, and well… women have some needs men don’t… particularly at certain times of the month…’ he says. You can’t help but grin at Dwight’s tactics.

 

‘Oh… oh right…’ says Tony, clearly uncomfortable. ‘I guess you’d better err get goin’ then,’ he says gruffly, attempting in vain to regain an authoritative tone.

 

‘Yep, thanks Tony, if you could just open the gate for me,’ Dwight says with poorly suppressed amusement in his voice.

 

‘Sure, sure…’

 

You hear the walk move away as Dwight gets into the truck. The floor beneath you vibrates violently against your ribcage as he starts the engine. 

 

‘We’re here,’ Dwight says about an hour later, cutting the engine. He opens the back doors of the truck and you find yourself looking across a large overgrown field with a forest extending for miles behind it. You don’t recognise the place at all. 

 

‘Hey Y/N, you okay?’ Comes a voice you recognise. Stepping into view from behind the truck is Jesus. You breathe a sigh of relief but your stomach twists in knots at the thought of confronting Rick after what had happened with Negan.

 

‘Rick will be so happy to see you,’ Jesus says with a chuckle, pulling you into a hug. You manage a half-smile but words have completely escaped you as the wave of guilt and shame crushes down on you.

 

‘You should get a move on, Negan’ll know you’re missing by now,’ Dwight says in a tense voice, handing the bag of food to Jesus. 

 

‘Won’t he come looking for me at Hilltop?’ You say, unable to conceal the anxiety in your voice. If Negan even lets you live for the stunt you’ve pulled today, your punishment is sure to be brutal.

 

‘We can hide you,’ Jesus says in a calm voice. ‘There are some underground sewers beneath Hilltop. The entrance is very hidden, they won’t find you there. We have scouts on the look out round the clock. If Negan comes for you, we’ll know and we’ll hide you. He won’t find you, Y/N. Trust me.’

 

You nod, swallowing the bile rising in your throat. You can’t decide what you’re more afraid of: telling Rick what happened with Negan, or the thought of Negan finding you. Turning to Dwight, you take his hand in yours. ‘Thank you… so much. For everything.’

 

He squeezes your hand and gives you a nod, but doesn’t say anything. He turns to Jesus, ‘Go. Now. I’ll see you up at Hilltop in a week or so.’

 

With that, he gets into the truck and is gone. You wonder what fate awaits him back at the Sanctuary. Will Negan believe he had nothing to do with your escape? Does he trust him that much? Your stomach drops. Negan doesn’t trust anyone. You probably won’t see Dwight again.

 

‘Come on, we should go,’ Jesus puts a hand on your back and guides you gently away from Dwight’s retreating truck. ‘You okay on a bike?’ He says with a grin, gesturing to an enormous motorcycle resting on the side of the road. 

 

‘Fuck yes,’ you grin back. You used to have a real thing for motorbikes before the world had turned. It’s been years since you’ve ridden one but the sight of it rekindles an old excitement. You allow it to swallow you, pushing out the shame and dread you feel for Rick, Dwight and yourself temporarily out of your mind. ‘Let me ride it?’ You ask Jesus hopefully.

 

He considers you for a moment, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he sees the eagerness in your face. ‘Sure, go ahead.’ 

Chapter Text

The feeling of the wind rushing through your hair and the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you speed along the roads washes away all thoughts of Negan and Rick and the danger you’ve brought upon yourself and anyone you care about thanks to your escape. Following Jesus’s directions, you eventually arrive at a tall wall made from large wooden logs. You cut the engine just outside and you both hop off of the motorbike. The sound of a gun clicking above you has your head snap up and your hand fly instinctively to your waist, only to remember you no longer have so much as a knife.

 

‘Easy Maggie, this is Y/N, Rick’s newest recruit,’ calls Jesus to a woman stood in a guard-post at the top of the wall, pointing a gun directly at you.

 

‘What’s she doin’ here?’ The woman named Maggie calls, not lowering her gun. ‘Ain’t she meant to be at the Sanctuary?’ 

 

‘She escaped. She’s gonna be hiding here ’til we go through with the plan… Rick’s orders, Maggie,’ he says when she still doesn’t release her gun.

 

After a few moments she nods. ‘Let her in.’

 

You allow Jesus to step in front of you as the gate opens, revealing a collection of makeshift workshop stalls and a row of container-like homes topped with solar panels beside a large, old-fashioned mansion. The woman named Maggie stands before you, gun now hooked over her shoulder, and your eyes immediately fall to the bump protruding slightly through her shirt. You remember what Rick had told you when you’d first arrived in Alexandria, about Abraham and Glenn, and that Glenn had had a wife… Your heart sinks at the sight of Maggie and her unborn child. Jesus said she’s hiding from Negan too. The thought that Negan had stripped away her husband and the father of her child only intensifies your shame at the lust you’d felt for him only yesterday.

 

‘How d’you escape?’ Maggie asks you, looking straight past Jesus. She regards you with a steely, defensive glare and you can tell by her tone and demeanour that she’s the leader.

 

‘Dwight broke me out of…’ you change course at the speed of light, not wishing for anyone to know about your relations with Negan, ‘…out of my cell at the Sanctuary. He brought me to Jesus then went back to cover my escape. He practically sacrificed himself to get me out, I doubt Negan will believe any alibi he concocts…’ 

 

‘Well I guess we know for sure he’s on our side now,’ she gives you an approving nod and you relax a little. ‘Jesus, why didn’t you tell me about this?’ 

 

‘Rick only told me, Dwight and Daryl, he didn’t want it getting back to any of the Saviors that we were planning on breaking her out. He’ll be coming up here next week to figure out the plan, he’s out looking for weapons.’

 

Maggie nods again. ‘Come in. I’ll introduce you to Daryl, he’s on the run from Negan too you, and how to get to the underground sewers where you’ll be able to hide when Negan’s men come knockin’,’ she says, turning and walking towards one of the container-like homes. You follow her, Jesus close behind you, keeping your head down amid the mutters from the Hilltop residents surrounding you. She leads you into a plain, characterless room comprising of a pair of single beds on opposite walls, a table, a bookshelf and a small kitchen area.

 

‘This her?’ Comes a low, gruff voice from the corner. Your attention is drawn to a man sitting in a chair, a crossbow perched between his legs and a set of blood-stained arrows and a grubby-looking cloth in his hands. He puts the arrows and crossbow to one side and saunters over to you, eyes narrowed and a shrewd expression on his face. His hair is long and shaggy, almost reaching his strong shoulders exposed by the sleeveless jacket he wears. Your eyes trail subconsciously over his muscular arms and strong build. He walks with a slight swagger; not the cocky strut Negan parades, but the cooly confident stride of a man who’s seen and done a lot of things and would not easily succumb to any kind of fear.

 

‘Daryl, this is Y/N, Rick’s newest recruit,’ Maggie explains to the man, who listens without taking his eyes off of you, like a hunter eyeing up a potential kill. ‘Negan kidnapped her a couple o’ weeks ago, Dwight broke her out under Rick’s orders.’ Daryl grunts at the mention of Dwight, as though unconvinced by his loyalty. ‘He’s on our side, Daryl.’

 

‘It’s true,’ you cut in, your voice a little louder than you’d expected in your haste to defend Dwight. ‘He broke me out of… my cell when Negan was on a run, and brought me to Jesus. Then he went back to cover my escape. He’s put himself in a lot of danger for me. He told one of the guards who caught him trying to take a truck that he was getting supplies for me under Negan’s instruction, but I doubt Negan will believe him. He’s probably dead now anyway…’

 

Daryl tilts his head back slightly, surveying you with suspicion etched all over his face. ‘How do we know we can trust you?’ He growls, stepping towards you until his face is just inches away. You resist the temptation to step back, determined to prove your fidelity. If he’s loyal enough to his group to be so cautious of you, only one thing could possibly convince him of your loyalty.

 

‘Because Rick trusts me.’ Daryl’s expression is unreadable and he doesn’t move away, so you stare directly into his eyes, your face hard.

 

‘How’d you get to Alexandria?’ He asks, his hot breath playing across your cheeks.

 

‘Rick found me in the woods with a bullet in my thigh. He brought me back and fixed me up. After a couple of weeks I was well enough to start guard duty, but Negan showed up earlier than he was meant to and threatened to kill me if he didn’t let him take me back to the Sanctuary,’ you explain, willing your heart to stop racing in your chest. You have a feeling Daryl is a hard man to gain the trust of, but you suspect that once you do he’s the most loyal friend you could wish for.

 

‘Negan threatened to kill you if Rick didn’t let him take you?’ He says with a slight tone of surprise.

 

‘Yes,’ you say simply. Daryl stares at you for a few moments longer before finally pulling away, nodding to Maggie and Jesus. 

 

‘She’s stayin’ here with me,’ he says authoritatively, retreating to his chair where he picks up his arrows and resumes their cleaning. ‘I’ll keep an eye on her, and Negan’s after both of us so we should stick together when he comes lookin’. You know he’ll check here once he sees she ain’t in Alexandria.’ 

 

‘If you’re sure…’ Maggie says with a glance to Jesus, who nods in agreement. ‘C’mon, I’ll show you the sewers,’ she says, gesturing to you to follow her out of the room. You glance back at Daryl and see his eyes trained on you, his face unreadable. You don’t know why but you find yourself intrigued by him.

Chapter Text

It’s been three days since you arrived at Hilltop. Maggie had shown you around and you’d been given the job of training the less experienced Hilltop residents how to use a knife. Daryl hadn’t said a word to you since your first encounter. In the evenings when you returned to your cabin, he was never there and you were so tired from training and teaching all day that you would fall asleep on top of your bed without even changing your clothes. By the time you’d wake up, Daryl was gone. You caught glimpses of him occasionally, coming in through the gates with a bird or a rabbit flung over his back and his crossbow in hand. Usually he avoided eye-contact with you like you didn’t exist, but today was different.

 

You were busy showing a bold, red-headed woman (whose name you could not remember), how to throw a knife. Your students were lined up in front of make-shift targets comprised of burlap sacks tied to wooden poles and painted with rings, for which they were meant to be aiming. So far not one of them had even hit the sack, let alone the target. You were concentrating on your students so you hadn’t noticed Daryl leaning against the wall of your cabin, watching you.

 

‘Okay guys, great work,’ you call, drawing your students’ attention to you. ‘I think it’ll help if I do another demo for you. Watch closely: how I hold the knife by the point with the handle pointing to the sky. I pull my arm back like I’m gonna throw a javelin,’ you say, illustrating your actions, ‘then flick my forearm forward, keeping my wrist firm so the knife doesn’t fly to the ground. That way it should follow the direction of my forearm.’ You throw the knife at the target and hit it right in the centre. Your students nod enthusiastically and begin attempting to replicate your actions. The woman you’d been focusing on manages to hit the second ring and grins widely at you.

 

‘Excellent! Keep it up!’ You smile at her, patting her on the shoulder as you move up the line. That’s when you see him out of the corner of your eye, leaning casually against your cabin, crossbow resting on his right shoulder. He’s watching you with a surprised but impressed look on his rugged face. Your eyes subconsciously travel over his form, his exposed muscular arms rippling in the sunlight. You meet his eyes and for a moment that seems to stretch on forever as you stare at one another, your breath catching in your throat as you think you see the hint of something else hiding behind his gaze. Then he disappears into the cabin, leaving you staring after him, utterly confused. What is it about him that draws you so much to him? You try to think of Rick, knowing you’ll see him in just a few days. But after the events at the Sanctuary, Negan’s hold over you, your escape with Dwight… Rick seems so distant, as though that blissful night you’d spent together was nothing more than the memory of a dream.

 

After another hour or so your group had made significant progress, with everyone having hit somewhere on the target at least once; the red-headed woman had eventually hit the bullseye three times in a row to raucous applause. You turn towards the cabin hoping in vain to see Daryl waiting there for you, but there’s no sign of him anywhere. After three days trapped within these walls, you resent the idea of returning back to your tiny living space and instead find yourself sneaking through the gates when the guards’ backs are turned. They’ve left it unlocked, which means someone else must be out. Perhaps Daryl is out hunting again, you think.

 

You wonder down the hill until you reach a lone tree in the middle of the grassy plain, looking out over a fantastic view of the surrounding forest above which the sun is just beginning to dip, scattering golden light across the darkening sky. Sitting down beneath the tree, you rest your head against the trunk and allow your eyes to close, drinking in the warmth of the setting sun on your face. It feels so good on your skin that you undo a few buttons on your shirt , soaking in the heat.

 

‘What the hell d’you think you’re doin’?’ Comes a gruff voice from somewhere directly above you. You jump and let out an involuntary yelp of surprise which you immediately regret as you realise the voice belongs to Daryl. He’s standing over you, a pair of rabbits in one hand, crossbow in the other, and a terrifying look of rage etched over his face. ‘You tryin’ ta get yourself killed, kid?  You ain’t even armed! Suppose a walker attacked you? Suppose the Saviors showed up and saw you here?’ He shouts, the rabbits swinging limply in his hands as he gesticulates angrily. You’d never pictured him as someone who got angry like this, he always seemed so calm and composed. Untouchable.

 

‘Alright, alright! I’m fine, see?’ You gesture to your unharmed body and his eyes narrow as they scan over you, lingering slightly on your exposed cleavage. ‘I’d have heard a walker from a mile away. I was alone for months before Rick found me — d'you know how hard it is to sleep at night when you’re by yourself? And if I can hear a walker coming, don’t you think I would hear the sound of half a dozen trucks grinding their way up the hill?’

 

He stares at you for a minute, grumbling under his breath, but he doesn’t retort.

 

‘Care to join me?’ You say with a slight smirk, guessing how uncomfortable it would make him to be close another human being just by the fact that he’s always alone and doesn’t seem to be close to anyone. He considers you for a moment, sighs and sets himself down beside you, careful to keep several inches gap between you. He lays the rabbits down next to him and takes his crossbow in his arms, loaded and prepared for attack as though he were waiting for a herd of walkers to appear through the trees at any second.

 

‘Do you ever put that thing down?’ You snicker, unsure where your sudden confidence has come from given that you’ve just been discovered dozing outside the walls at dusk with your shirt half undone.

 

Daryl answers with a dismissive shrug, ignoring your tease. The two of you sit there in silence, watching the sun steadily sink behind the trees, illuminating them with beautiful golden light. You sigh and lean your head back against the trunk. Daryl shoots you a furtive glance and sighs before shuffling backwards against the tree and resting his head back too, but he doesn’t close his eyes or take his finger off the trigger of his crossbow.

 

‘You should learn to relax more, it’s good for you,’ you mock, taking a great deal of satisfaction from making him feel uncomfortable. You wonder why on earth he’s still sitting here, why he doesn’t just persuade you to go back to Hilltop with him by sticking that crossbow in your back.

 

‘That’s how you get killed, kid,’ he growls in a low voice, not meeting your gaze as you turn to watch him, a smile playing on your lips as your eyes travel slowly down his body, unashamedly drinking in every inch of his physique. You still have no idea what it is about him that has you so transfixed, just as you have no idea why he sits beside you when his instincts are clearly screaming for you both to get back behind walls before darkness swallows you. But for whatever reason, neither of you have any inclination to move from your spot beneath the tree.

 

‘What did you do before all this?’ You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. Daryl finally turns to face you and his eyes lock with yours, his soft blue gaze piercing straight through you.

 

‘What does it matter?’ He growls quietly. It’s clear he’s not going to give you an answer, so you open your mouth to ask your next question but he cuts in over you. ‘What ‘bout you?’

 

A blush creeps up your cheeks and his eyebrows crease in confusion. ‘You weren’t a stripper or somethin’ like that, were ya?’ He says gruffly, a small chuckle falling from him as the tiniest hint of a grin tugs at the corner of his lips.

 

‘No! How dare—’ You shout indignantly, but you’re muffled by Daryl’s hand covering your mouth. He leans in closer to you, an uncharacteristically mischievous glean in his eyes.

 

‘Cos’ it’s okay if you were, I mean…’ he hums mockingly, glancing deliberately down at your heaving chest as his sudden proximity has your heart racing beneath your ribcage. He chuckles a little louder this time at the offended and indignant look in your eyes as you stare at him. As he loosens his grip over your mouth you jerk your chin up and bite his hand. He draws back, cursing you with a string of profanities.

 

‘I was not a fucking stripper!’ You spit at him, careful to keep your voice to a whisper as you become aware of the darkness descending around you, not wishing to draw the attention of any walkers nearby. ‘I worked as… as a bartender.’

 

‘Serious?’ Daryl whispers back with a definite smile curving his lips, drawing your eyes to them as your heart pounds faster in your chest. You wonder whether he would be able to hear it with his hunter’s ears, and the blush deepens in your cheeks at the thought of him sensing your attraction to him, sure that he wouldn’t possibly be attracted to you. ‘So where’d you learn to throw knives like that?’

 

You shrug. ‘Trial and error. I was always good with my hands and coordination… the bar I worked at sort of… required you to put on a bit of a show when mixing cocktails: juggling and tossing bottles, doing all sorts of tricks…’ You trail off as you watch Daryl’s expression. His gaze is intense and his eyes are fixed on your lips. He’s leaning towards you, his mouth slightly open and his breath coming faster.

 

‘Daryl, I —’ you begin, but he hushes you with a finger pressed against your lips.

 

‘I don’t do this, I don’t… like people like this,’ he whispers, eyes flitting between yours and your mouth. You feel yourself leaning slowly closer to him too, watching him with your breath held as you see the struggle in his expression. ‘I don’t let myself get too close… I’m too afraid t-to lose people,’ he mumbles, his composure steadily breaking as he can’t help but lean ever closer to you. Your faces are just an inch apart. His finger begins to trace along your lower lip as he sighs in frustration and longing, his hot breath playing across your face and his touch sending shivers through your body.

 

‘But you… you seem differen’ somehow… like you can take care o’ yourself. Hell, you got outta the Sanctuary unscathed…’ he whispers. You can’t believe what’s happening. Your mind is completely blank, filled only with the sensation of Daryl’s touch as his hand now comes up to cup your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb tracing gently over your parted lips.

 

‘You don’t have to worry about me, Daryl, I promise,’ you whisper against his thumb. He meets your eyes with a blazing look, the struggle obvious behind them but as desire overpowers him, Daryl crashes his lips onto yours in a fierce kiss. You fling your arms around his neck and entwine your fingers through his hair while your other hand runs over his stubbled jawline. Daryl slides his tongue hungrily along your lower lip before forcing his way into your mouth, eager to taste you. You slide your hand from his face down his chest, feeling your way over his taut muscles as he runs one hand through your hair while the other still clutches his crossbow defensively.

 

‘We should head back inside,’ he says breathlessly, suddenly pulling away from you. You moan impatiently and tug on his hair, pulling him back into the kiss. A chuckle vibrates in his chest as he senses your desperation. He bites teasingly on your lower lip and lets out a low growl that sends a ripple of excitement rushing through you. Your body aches to be closer to him but then he’s pulling away and getting to his feet.

 

‘Why can’t we just stay here?’ You groan, knowing the answer before it leaves his mouth.

 

‘It ain’t worth the danger darlin’, c’mon,’ he says gruffly, slinging the rabbits over his shoulder and making for the gate. The desire you’d felt only moments ago is suddenly replaced by a cold hollowness as you watch him stalking away from you. Swearing under your breath, you get to your feet and follow behind him, resenting  his sudden dismissiveness despite the fact that you know he’s right. But you feel like the moment has gone as you enter through the gates, the guard not questioning the sight of you out late when he spots the rabbits hanging over Daryl’s shoulder. You angrily do up the buttons on your shirt right up to your neck and cross your arms over your chest. When Daryl stops to give his kill to the butcher, you head straight for the cabin without a backwards glance.

 

You wait in vain for Daryl to return to the cabin, busying yourself with tidying the place up, but he doesn’t come. Soon tiredness overcomes you and you resign to bed, undressing to your panties and pulling on a loose crop top before retreating between the sheets. You fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow, all the tension and excitement you’d felt before now drained from your body.

 


 

Something wakes you. Someone moving around the room. You lay completely still, lying on your side facing the wall, and hold your breath as you listen. You had never heard Daryl come in at night before, he was always so quiet… But who else could it be? Surely you would know if Negan had finally come, you would have been woken and hurried underground to hide. You hear the sound of Daryl’s bed creak slightly as they sit down on it, but you don’t dare turn around, terrified that it might be an intruder.

 

‘Hey… you awake?’ A voice whispers from behind you. You recognise the low, gruff growl and breathe a sigh of relief.

 

‘No,’ you growl back, still angry at him for ruining the moment you had shared earlier, and at yourself for even allowing yourself to be attracted to him when you should be thinking of Rick.

 

‘Look, I’m sorry I disappeared, Maggie dragged me into a meetin’ with her n’ Jesus. They’re worried ’bout Rick,’ Daryl explains, his voice tense. You sit up quickly and look at him; the unmistakable concern in his eyes ties a knot in your stomach.

 

‘What’s happened? Is he okay?’ You ask quickly, you blood running cold at the images running through your head of Negan standing over Rick’s body, laughing at the sight of his brains spattered across the ground and the blood dripping from Lucille…

 

‘That’s it, we dunno…’ he says in a low voice, leaning forwards on the edge of the bed and resting his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. You’re relieved to see that the crossbow isn’t propped beside him for once. ‘He went out on a run a few days ago lookin’ for guns for the attack on the Sanctuary, but he ain’t come back yet. No one’s heard from him…’

 

You shuffle forwards and throw your legs over the side of the bed so you’re sitting opposite Daryl. His eyes follow your movements like a hawk and they linger over your exposed legs and panties for a moment. In your worry about Rick, you completely forgot how little you were wearing. You try to subtly cover yourself with the sheet as you meet Daryl’s eyes. ‘I’m sure he’s okay, he’s probably had to go pretty far out to find anything the Saviors haven’t already scavenged, right? Maybe he’s just… run out of gas or something.’

 

‘Hmm,’ Daryl grunts, dropping his eyes to the floor.

 

‘He’ll be okay, Daryl. From what I’ve heard he’s dealt with worse. He knows how to look after himself, he… he always comes back,’ you say consolingly, trying to convince yourself as much as Daryl. You want desperately to reach out to him and take his hand, to comfort him in some way.

 

‘We could go look for him? First light, you and me. With your crossbow and my knives, we’ll be okay. We could take the motorbike, I used to ride my dad’s old Triumph all the time when I was younger, so you don’t have to worry about me leaning the wrong way and crashing us,’ you smile, trying to lighten the mood. After a moment he looks up at you, the same longing as before burning in his eyes and making your breath catch in your throat.

 

‘You’re jus’ full o’ surprises, ain’t ya,’ he growls with a low chuckle, holding your gaze. ‘As much as I wanna find Rick and love the sound o’ going off in the wild with you, the best thing ta do is stay here. If Negan’s got Rick, he’ll wanna make a fuckin’ spectacle of it. He’ll make it known an’ we’ll need to stick together if we have any chance o’ savin’ him.’

 

You sigh and nod, knowing he’s right again, but the knot in your stomach doesn’t loosen.

 

‘Hey…’ Daryl whispers, reaching a hand out and stroking the back of his fingers gently down your cheek. ‘He’ll be okay, I can tell you care ’bout him as much as I do.’

 

‘I thought you didn’t get close to people,’ you say with a small smile, your skin tingling in the wake of Daryl’s touch. Part of you hates that you crave him while you’re also worried about Rick. But even now Rick seems so distant, and Daryl is so close… too close. He’s leaning in towards you, his eyes fixed on your lips as his hand moves down your neck and strokes lightly along your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

 

‘Daryl, we can’t…’ you whisper, taking his hand in yours and dropping your gaze to the floor as shame overwhelms you. ‘Rick and I… we sort of got together…’

 

‘How’d you mean?’ Daryl asks, his voice monotone as he pulls his hand away. You keep your eyes fixed on the floor, terrified of seeing the anger in his face after you’d led him on earlier. ‘Are you… a couple?’

 

‘No, I… I’m not sure really, we just… spent a night together. Negan took me back to Alexandria after locking me in a cell at the Sanctuary for days… trying to break me,’ you mumble, trying not to give away the methods he had used. ‘He let me stay there for a night before he took me away again, said I’d never see that place again and I had to know just what I was losing if I didn’t… comply.’

 

‘Does Negan know?’ Daryl questions, getting to his feet and pacing across the floor in front of you. You recoil further back onto the bed, watching him, terrified what his reaction might be and hating yourself for wanting him still.

 

‘No. Dwight saw but he kept our secret, he tried to take care of me while I was there,’ you explain, trying to maintain your composure.

 

‘You’re a fuckin’ idiot. You tryin’ ta get yourself killed or somethin’?!’ He shouts, making you jump.

 

‘It just happened, Daryl!’ You cry, standing up to face him, tears suddenly burning in the corners of your eyes. ‘I don’t even know what it meant, but if Rick gets killed because of me…’

 

‘For fuck’s sake,’ Daryl growls, and then his lips are on yours, his rough hands gripping your face. All thoughts vanish from your head. All you feel is him.

 

Your hands find his waist and you pull his body into yours. A deep moan vibrates in his chest as you curl your fingers under his shirt and explore his toned, hair-dusted abdomen. One hand travels up to his taut chest as with a finger of your other hand you trace a line just above his pants, hooking one teasingly beneath the material just above his crotch. He reacts instantly to your touch, knotting a hand roughly in your hair and grabbing your hip tightly.

 

‘Daryl, we shouldn’t…’ you begin as he pulls away momentarily, but your body continues without your conscience.

 

‘Shut up,’ Daryl growls in his deep, gruff voice, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you up against him, wrapping your legs around his waist before slamming you hard against the wall and crushing his body into yours. You can feel the hard bulge of his excitement pressing against the thin material of your panties and you gasp as he rocks his hips into yours, nipping and sucking at your neck and across your collarbone before trailing his way up to your ear, flicking his tongue across your sensitive flesh and biting hungrily at your earlobe with a soft, guttural moan that sends shivers down your spine.

 

‘I’ve wanted you since you first stepped in this room,’ he murmurs in your ear, trailing kisses up and down your neck. ‘I watched you teachin’ those people how to throw knives, I heard how you pushed my bike to the fuckin’ limits when Jesus brought you here, then when I saw you lyin’ out there in the open, not scared of a fuckin’ thing…’

 

Before you have time to register, Daryl throws you onto his bed, crushing his lips onto yours with a hunger and desperation that lights a fire in your core. The sounds of your heavy breaths fills the air as he shrugs the jacket from his shoulders and you impatiently tug his shirt over his head. You stare at each other for a moment, panting as you drink in the sight of his muscular body baring over you. Then, unable to wait, you grab the back of Daryl’s neck and pull him into you. He grunts as you tug roughly on his hair, biting his lower lip as your other hand skims down his torso to his belt. His hands are rough and desperate on your body, one coming up to wrap around the base of your throat and the other sliding up beneath your top and grabbing hungrily at your breast. You gasp and shiver as he runs his thumb lightly over the top of your hard nipple before pinching it gently.

 

‘Daryl…’ you moan as his lips trace across your jawline and explore your neck with hot, wet kisses. ‘Daryl, this is wrong…’ you try to whisper, but his hand tightens around your throat, restricting your airways just enough to stop you from talking. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps beneath his grip and your head begins to spin slightly.

 

‘Do you want this?’ Daryl growls in your ear, gently caressing your breast as he releases his grip on your throat slightly.

 

‘Yes, but don’t you think…’ You’re stopped again as Daryl tightens his hand back around your throat while the other hand unhooks his belt.

 

‘Stop thinkin’ Y/N,’ he whispers against your skin as he dips down to your abdomen, his tongue tracing lightly along the sensitive flesh just above your panties. You gasp as you feel his teeth nipping gently at your skin before taking the material between his teeth and dragging it slowly down your legs. Releasing his hand from around your throat, your head rushes at the sudden wave of oxygen flooding to it. Daryl moans hungrily against your skin as he sucks and licks his way tantalisingly slowly up the inside of your thighs. Your breathing quickens and your heart pounds and he grabs your thighs in his rough hands, forcing them apart before sliding underneath you to grasp at your ass, digging his fingernails in slightly as he palms your flesh.

 

He looks up at you and meets your eyes, the lust burning in his gaze sends an ache to your core. His lips curve up in a mischievous smile before they are suddenly wrapped around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue across it in rhythmic circles. You cry out as Daryl’s sudden attack sets your nerves on fire, entwining one hand in his hair and gripping the sheets with the other as your body is wracked by waves of heat rushing to your core.

 

Daryl teases your entrance with his finger while his other hand reaches up to grope at your breasts, pinching your nipples just hard enough to make you whimper. You arch your hips up into him, urging him to push inside you as he traces circles around your entrance in rhythm with his tongue on your clit.

 

‘Please,’ you beg him, desperate to be filled as your walls start to convulse.

 

‘Please what?’ He growls, licking his lips as he looks up at you from between your thighs.

 

‘Please Daryl…’ you moan desperately, your hips bucking but Daryl grabs your hip tightly and pins you down, his finger nails digging in slightly, making you let out another whimper. He grins satisfyingly at the noise as he kisses his way slowly up your stomach and over your breasts, his finger still teasing your entrance but refusing to give you what you want.

 

‘Tell me what you want… exactly what you want,’ he says in a low growl, the vibrations in his chest reverberating through your body as he presses himself into you. Pushing his hips between your thighs, you can feel his bulge pressing against your core but the material of his pants is in the way and you groan, desperate to feel him.

 

‘I want you…’ you whimper, trailing your hand down his body to his crotch and palming his erection beneath the material. He moans as his lips trailing their way to your nipple, his tongue swirling around it teasingly before he takes it into his mouth, sucking on it gently and sending waves of pleasure rushing through you. You manage to unzip his pants and you slide your hand slowly under his boxers, tracing a finger lightly down his impressive length before wrapping your hand around him. He lets out another deep moan as you begin to slowly tug back and forth while your other hand trails over the taut muscles of his back. You gasp as Daryl moves his attention to your other breast, nipping gently at your hard nipple between flicking his tongue across the sensitive flesh and sucking on it hungrily as his hand roughly caresses the other.

 

‘Please Daryl,’ you moan as his teasing at your entrance becomes almost unbearable. You rock you hips into his, desperate to feel some friction on your clit again, but he pushes you back down into the bed. He leans over you until his lips are at your ear, his hot breath sending tingling goosebumps over your skin.

 

‘I said tell me,’ he growls, removing his finger from your core and wrapping it around your throat.

 

‘I need you…’ you whine breathlessly, trying to turn your head to reach his lips but he pushes his hand up to grab your jaw, turning your head away from him as he blows gently on your skin, his lips just lightly brushing down your neck but not kissing you.

 

‘Need me how?’ He whispers, his free hand tracing lines up and down your sides with one finger, lighting your skin on fire.

 

‘I need you… inside me,’ you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as a blush creeps up your cheeks, feeling utterly powerless against his strength and his teases. ‘Please Daryl…’

 

Before you know it, he’s gone. Cool air washes over you like ice as the heat of his body leaves you. You open your eyes and look up to see him leaning over you, stripping his pants and boxers from his body. Your eyes widen as his impressive erection springs free, the tip glistening with precum as he bears down over you.

 

‘Get on you hands and knees,’ he orders in his deep, gruff voice. You obey without question, your heart pounding and your head spinning as you realise what’s about to happen. All thoughts of Rick or Negan are far from your mind as you feel Daryl’s rough hands grabbing your hips and yanking you towards him, your feet dangling off the end of the bed.

 

You gasp as you feel the tip of his cock prod gently against your entrance. Daryl kicks your legs wider with his knees before reaching around with one hand to press a finger against your clit while the other keeps a tight hold on your hip. You moan as he slowly slides inside you, savouring the sensation as inch by inch he fills you up, stretching your walls. He lets out a low, animalistic grunt as he pushes all the way to the base of his cock. For a moment he remains still inside you, allowing your muscles to adapt to his size as his finger rubs slowly over your clit.

 

‘Please Daryl…’ you breathe, trying to rock your hips but unable to move against the strength of his grip. ‘Please fuck me!’

 

Daryl chuckles softly as he starts agonisingly slowly to pull out of you, all the way to the tip. ‘Anything for you, darlin’,’ he growls before slamming himself into you with a force that makes you cry out and jerk forwards. He readjusts his hold on your hip and circles his finger faster over your clit, making you moan and gasp as you feel the heat building inside of you. He pulls out of you again, still slowly and you have to try to hold the heat back, desperate to hold off your release until you can no longer take it. As he slams back into you, he groans loudly, then as though he can’t restrain himself he’s suddenly fucking you fast, each thrust getting harder and harder as your moans and cries fill the air with the sound of his hips smacking against your ass. The rhythm of his finger on your clit matches the pace of his thrusts and your head spins as the heat builds and builds in your core, threatening to overpower you, but you muster all of your strength to hold off the release your body desperately screams for.

 

‘Daryl!’ You cry, as his thrusts grow quicker and quicker. His animalistic moans and grunts turn you on so much that it takes everything you have to resist your release. He lets go of your clit and moves his hand to grab your breasts, pinching your nipples and sending waves of shock and pleasure through your body as you whimper and scream while he slams your hips into him to meet his thrusts, his cock rubbing against your G-spot and making you cry out in pleasure.

 

‘Oh I’m gonna cum, Daryl!’ You scream as your walls start to convulse, unable to hold back any longer.

 

‘Cum with me!’ Daryl moans, thrusting deep inside you as your walls spasm around him. He grunts as you feel his cock throbbing inside you and the warmth of his release filling you. After a moment he pulls away and your knees give way beneath you. You fall to the bed in a heap, panting and sweating as the waves of your release continue to wash over you.

 

Your body feels pleasantly heavy and you smile as you watch Daryl pull on his boxers and lay down beside you. He hooks an arm around your shoulders and moves your head gently to rest on his chest. Neither of you speak, losing yourselves in the moment as your breathing evens out your heart rates steadily slow. Neither of you mention Rick, or Negan, or the danger that haunts you both. You simply lay in each others arms until sleep takes you.

Chapter Text

A sharp knock at the door has you shooting bolt upright. You look over to Daryl to see him already disentangling himself from the sheets.

 

‘Who is it?’ He calls, hastily pulling on his shirt and pants.

 

‘It’s Maggie. You need to see this.’

 

Daryl meets your eyes, reflecting the same fear that suddenly pumps your body into action. You get dressed and grab your knife, tucking it into your belt as Daryl grabs his crossbow. The sunlight burns your eyes when Daryl throws open the door and you both head out, prepared for whatever fight is coming, or to run to the sewers at a moment’s notice. The entire population of Hilltop stands gathered by the open gate beside several cars ready to leave. Maggie and Jesus approach you with expressions that turn your blood cold.

 

‘What is it?’ Daryl says in his low, gruff voice, automatically scanning his surroundings for sign of a threat. Maggie silently hands him something. A poor-resolution, black-and-white photograph…

 

You stand beside Daryl to get a better look and see that the photo is of one of the houses in Alexandria… your house in fact. Sitting on the steps of the front porch is a man, but you can barely make him out. In the corner of the photograph are three words written in red: ‘Come and play x’

 

Daryl hands it to you without a word. As you take a closer look your stomach turns to ice and your body seems to freeze in place. You recognise that long, wavy hair, that beard, that posture… It’s Rick.

 

‘We’ve got to go. Now,’ you say quietly, handing the picture back to Maggie without looking at her. It’s as though the world has gone into free-fall; you’re floating helplessly in mid-air, your body frozen and limp as terror courses through you like poison in your veins.

 

Somewhere in your peripheral you see Daryl nod to Maggie and turn to you. He’s saying something but you can’t hear anything over the muffled ringing in your ears.

 

‘Y/N!’ He shouts, grabbing your face with both hands and snapping you back to reality. This horrible, petrifying reality. His soft blue eyes meet yours and something unspoken passes between you. An understanding. Both of you will do anything to save Rick, anything it takes. You both know what has to be done, but for now it has to remain between you, or else Maggie would never let you both go. ‘Let’s get him back.’

 

You take a deep breath and swallow. You nod, your mind focusing only on the task ahead, determination stifling your fear as you turn now to Maggie and Jesus.

 

‘Daryl and I will go on the bike and take a short-cut off-road, approaching Alexandria from the back. There’s a tree with plenty of cover that hangs over the fence just beside the roof of one of the houses — we could sneak in from there. We’ll keep hidden and only come out if things kick off,’ you intone monotonously, locking your emotions away so that your practical mind can take control. You glance at Daryl out of the corner of your eye, knowing that neither of you have any intentions of staying hidden. You are the targets. No one else.

 

‘Good,’ Maggie nods. You can see Jesus watching you suspiciously, but you avoid his eye. ‘We’ll head off first, take as many of us that can fight an’ draw ’em out to the front. You wait behind the fence at the back ’til Jesus comes to give you the all clear. Okay?’

 

You and Daryl murmur your agreement and head straight to his bike waiting at the front gate. Avoiding the stares of the Hilltop residents, you hop straight on the bike first and rev it into action.

 

‘Can I ride?’ You ask, looking up at Daryl. He considers you for a moment, understanding without asking why you need to feel in control right now.

 

‘Sure kid,’ he growls, leaning down to you to stroke his finger gently across your cheek and plant a soft kiss on your forehead before sliding in behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

 

‘Thank you,’ you say in a low voice, just loud enough for only him to hear. You lean your head back into his shoulder and he squeezes you tightly. For a moment that you wish could span a lifetime you both sit there, close to one another as the reality of what you must do sinks in. Quickly wiping away a stray tear, you tear off out of the gates, unable to hear Maggie and Jesus screaming after you over the deafening roar of the bike. If you put your foot down you and Daryl should easily reach Alexandria’s gate before the rest can catch up and try to stop you.

 

A thousand scenarios flash before your mind as the road speeds away beneath you. Rick must be alive, that you know for sure. What state you’ll find him in is a different matter, however. Negan only kills when it’s absolutely necessary and he makes every kill a statement. He wouldn’t want to waste Rick’s death without a spectacle. But you also know Negan can be bargained with, and that’s the hope you hold on to as you turn the corner and the walls of Alexandria come into view.

 

‘They’re pretty far behind us, we should have Rick safe by the time they show up!’ Daryl shouts from behind you as you slow up on your approach to the gate.

 

You park the bike directly in front and both hop off, standing side-by-side with your weapons hanging loosely by your sides. You won’t be using them this time. You step forward but Daryl grabs your arm and yanks you back.

 

‘You ain’t goin’ in,’ he says quietly, suddenly steering you away towards the trees.

 

‘What?!’ You hiss, trying to free your arm but Daryl’s grip is like a vice as he half carries you behind a large oak.

 

‘I won’t let him have you. I’ll exchange myself for Rick and then you can run. Far away from here,’ he whispers, grabbing your jaw with his free hand and pulling you into a fierce kiss that leaves you breathless and aching for more. Meeting his gaze for what you expect will be the last time, you give him a small smile and try to fight the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. The night you’d shared together seems like a distant dream now. He gives your hand a final squeeze before heading to the gate and banging his fist on it three times.

 

‘I’ve come to play, you sick son-of-a-bitch!’ He yells. You have no choice but to watch from your hiding spot. You have your knife… maybe you could catch Negan by surprise when his back is turned, provided you’re quick enough…

 

The gates grate open and a horrifying scene awaits you. What looks to be the entire population of Alexandria are on their knees, gagged with their arms bound behind their backs and a gun pointing to each of their heads. They form a semi-circle behind the centre-piece of the show: Rick, kneeling on the floor and barely conscious. Blood streams from a wound on his temple and trickles from his mouth, his face purple and swollen. Negan stands casually beside him.

 

‘Well if it ain’t my lost lil’ puppy come home to Daddy at last!’ Cries Negan, thrusting his hips forwards as he swings Lucille playfully by his side. You’re relieved to see her clean of blood for now.

 

‘I ain’t here for you,’ Daryl growls in a low, threatening voice, his hand twitching on his crossbow.

 

A shit-eating grin spreads beneath Negan’s trimmed, salt-and-pepper beard as he eyes Daryl. After a moment of silence he motions to someone you can’t see. From behind the wall approaches Dwight, gun pointing at Daryl’s head as he confiscates his crossbow before retreating amongst the other Saviors. Your blood boils and your vision turns to red as the depth of his betrayal crashes over you.

 

Everyone’s here for me. All these people here are me,’ Negan says quietly. The whole town is utterly silent, even the trees and the air seem to have gone still, hanging on to his every word. ‘That’s what you can’t seem to understand!’ He suddenly shouts, closing the gap between him and Daryl and raising Lucille to point directly at Daryl’s chest.

 

‘Leave him alone!’ You cry, sprinting out from behind the tree and throwing yourself between Daryl and Negan.

 

‘Well jus’ look who it is,’ Negan grins, tracing his tongue along his lower lip and tilting his head to the side as he mercifully lowers Lucille. Your breathing is quick and your heart pounds loudly in your ears but you meet his gaze with all the loathing you can muster. ‘I’ve missed you especially, darlin’. Hell, my dick is fuckin’ achin’ already!’ He drools, stepping towards you so that his face is just inches from yours, his hot breath playing across your skin as his eyes wander down to your mouth, biting his lip with a low, gravelly moan.

 

Daryl suddenly yanks you behind him and pushes right up into Negan’s face until they are nose-to-nose.

 

‘You leave her the fuck alone, you got that you piece o’ shit?’ He growls menacingly. Negan doesn’t even recoil, but looks back at him with a hard and terrifying expression on his face, his smile vanishing to be replaced with a murderous look.

 

‘What did you say to me?’ He says quietly, tightening his grip on Lucille.

 

‘She’s not part o’ the deal.’

 

The two of them glare at each other for a moment that seems to stretch on forever. Your heart pounds in your throat and you feel like you might be sick, but you know what you came here to do. You have to save them both.

 

‘An’ what deal is that?’ Negan breathes.

 

‘I’ll come back with you,’ you say loudly, drawing both their attention to you.

 

‘No!’ Daryl shouts, punching Negan square in the jaw and sending him stumbling backwards. Before he can even pull his arm back for another hit, three sets of arms are wrestling him to the ground, beating and kicking him.

 

‘Stop! Stop it! Please!’ You scream, trying to pull them off of him, but Negan’s suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and yanking you backwards as you yelp in pain.

 

‘Put him next to Rick!’ He orders. The men comply, dragging him up onto his knees beside Rick and tying his hands behind his back. You look helplessly at them both and the pain in your heart squeezes tears from your eyes. But you swallow your sobs. You came here to save them and that’s exactly what you’re going to do.

 

‘We’re going to play a lil’ game, just the four o’ us,’ Negan growls in your ear from behind you, his lips brushing lightly against your neck and making you shiver. He releases you but you remain rooted to the spot. Terror courses through you at the thought of what you must do, but the sight of Rick and Daryl on their knees before you, beaten to a pulp because of you, only hardens your resolve.

 

‘This is one of my favourites: Truth or Dare. I’ve changed the rules slightly, jus’ to make it a lil’ more fun!’ He grins, pacing slowly between you and Rick and Daryl, Lucille resting casually on his shoulder as he turns to them. ‘If you lie or fail to do the dare, I’ll kill one of these poor, innocen’ people behind you,’ he gestures Lucille to the Alexandrians.

 

‘You sick fuck,’ Daryl growls, spitting on the floor at Negan’s feet. Negan laughs and a shiver runs down your spine at the sound.

 

‘You can go first then,’ he says coldy, crouching down in front of Daryl. ‘I’m gonna start with truth. Did Pricky boy here sleep with my girl when I let her stay at this shithole the other night?’

 

Your insides freeze at his words. Negan must already know, and whatever they say someone will die and it will be your fault. If they lie, it could be any one of these people who had nothing to do with this. If they tell the truth, it will be them.

 

Daryl doesn’t answer.

 

‘C’mon now, I’m a patient man but I ain’t got time to waste on you sorry fuckin’ arse today,’ Negan growls, resting Lucille on Daryl’s shoulder.

 

‘No, she didn’t sleep with Rick,’ Daryl mutters quietly.

 

Negan lets out a low chuckle and gets to his feet, wandering slowly along the line of Alexandrians with Lucille hanging loosely by his side. Each person shrinks in his wake. A blonde man squeezes his eyes shut as he approaches then breathes a sigh of relief as he passes him.

 

‘Wrong!’ He chimes, turning on the spot and bringing Lucille crashing down onto the blonde man’s skull and the woman beside him cries out in agony. He buckles to the floor and in four more sickening crunches his head is reduced to a spattering of blood and gore across the ground, the woman shrinking in on herself as she succumbs to her pain. Her sobs, muffled by the gag in her mouth, echo across the silent square. No one dares breathe. Even Daryl is silent as he meets your terrified gaze. He shakes his head ever so slightly at you, eyes full of pain and pleading as he guesses your plan.

 

‘Prick, your turn!’ Negan comes to crouch in front of Rick, grabbing his hair and pulling his face up to meet him. He’s barely conscious at all.

 

‘Did you sleep with my girl, Prick?’ Rick groans as Negan yanks harder on his hair. He nods once. Negan stares at him for a moment, a terrible grin forming across his face as he traces his tongue along his lower lip. Releasing him, he stands up slowly and turns to face you, his face suddenly murderous.

 

‘Truth or dare?’ He asks you in barely more than a whisper. You take a deep breath and stare determinedly back at him as you answer in a clear voice.

 

‘Dare.’

 

Negan chuckles, his smile not reaching his eyes. ‘Okay darin’, I dare you to tell me the truth: did you sleep with Pricky boy here when I so kindly let you stay for a night after you begged me so… sexily?’

 

You see Rick look blearily up at you and Daryl wrenching desperately against his bonds. Then you look directly into Negan’s eyes as you answer.

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘She never slept with Rick!’ Daryl suddenly shouts. You stare at him in horror. This wasn’t part of your plan. ‘It was me.’

 

Negan’s face splits into a wide grin and he throws his head back in a booming laugh that shakes you to your very core.

 

‘Well doll, ain’t you a fuckin’ heart-breaker!’ He cries. ‘See I know you fucked Rick ’cos ol’ Dwight told me he saw the two of you naked on the mornin’ I returned here to get you.’ Daryl’s head drops and Rick squeezes his eyes shut. Dwight had been playing them all along. ‘Which means if he’s tellin’ the truth,’ he says in a voice suddenly filled with rage, pointing Lucille just inches away from Daryl’s head, ‘that means you must o’ slept with him too after your lil’ escape attempt.’

 

‘Please Negan! I beg you!’ You cry desperately as you watch Negan turn his back on you and pace slowly before Rick and Daryl. He ignores you.

 

‘Eenie. Meenie. Miney. Mo,’ he counts, pointing at each of them in turn.

 

‘Please! Don’t hurt them! I’ll do anything!’ You beg, unable to move as tears flow freely down your cheeks.

 

‘Catch. A tiger. By. Its toe.’ Rick and Daryl both meet your eyes, begging you to accept this and to live, silently and desperately pleading with you not to take their place. You shake your head to them and they both cry out just as you open your mouth to offer your life as forfeit.

 

‘I’ll marry you, Negan,’ you say quietly, but your voice seems to ring across the entire square, echoing on forever. Negan stops in his tracks, his back still to you. Your heart pounds as though trying to escape from your chest and tears roll relentlessly down your cheeks as a cold emptiness spreads through you.

Chapter Text

A low chuckle rumbles in Negan’s chest as he slowly lowers Lucille. You can’t breathe. Rick and Daryl are screaming for you to run, to kill him, to do anything but the only thing you know will save them both: to give him what he wants most.

 

‘Say that again,’ he says quietly, his back still turned. You steady your breathing and mould your face into an empty expression.

 

‘I’ll marry you.’

 

‘Hmm,’ he mumbles, turning slowly around to look at you but not retreating from Rick and Daryl struggling against their bonds. He lands his boot in Rick’s gut and he buckles, choking and spluttering. You keep your face expressionless as Negan meets your eyes to judge your reaction.

 

‘Say. It. Again,’ he growls, his face hard.

 

‘I-I’ll marry you,’ you say clearly, keeping your gaze fixed on Negan and trying desperately to block out the agonising sounds of Rick’s pain.

 

This time his boot meets Daryl’s face with a sharp crunch followed by a sickening groan as Daryl falls backwards onto the floor, his arms trapped behind his back and blood gushing from his nose and mouth. He heaves himself back onto his knees and spits out a tooth, staring daggers at Negan but falling silent.

 

You know he’s testing you and although your insides are screaming at you to plunge your knife into his skull, you take it from your belt and throw it to the floor at Negan’s feet. He glances down at it and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, his tongue tracing over his lower lip as he looks back up to you, his eyes alight with desire. You suppress a shudder as you stare resolutely back.

 

‘I assume you’d like me to spare them in return?’ He asks, raising his eyebrow. You nod once, resisting Daryl’s eyes burning into you, silently calling for you to stop. Negan considers you for a moment, rubbing his jaw. He nods his agreement, then he turns to Dwight.

 

‘Put Daryl in the back of the truck and don’t take your eyes off him for a single fuckin’ moment,’ he orders.

 

‘You liar! You said you’d spare him!’ You cry, leaping forwards and grabbing Negan’s jacket with both hands in desperation. This is the only card you have and it has to be enough, it just has to. Negan stares down at you with a murderous look but you don’t recoil. ‘Please! Is it not enough?’

 

‘Don’t you fuckin’ dare call me a liar,’ he growls in a dangerous tone, nostrils flaring as a terrible rage consumes his expression, a rage you’ve never seen before, terrifying you to your very core. And pain, an unmistakable pain burns behind his eyes. Releasing your grip you take several steps backwards, shocked into silence.

 

‘Now Pricky Boy, it seems despite my better judgement I’m honour-bound to let you go,’ he says in his deep, gravelly voice, crouching down in front of Rick’s diminished form. ‘Cut him loose, and the others too,’ he orders the Saviors behind him. The watching crowd are set free but they’re too terrified to get to their feet. A mean-looking woman with a shaved head comes to untie Rick, who looks up at Negan with pure hatred in his eyes.

 

‘I’m gonna kill you,’ he murmurs, his face inches from Negan’s. ‘Not today… Not tomorrow… But one day… I’m gonna kill you.’

 

A shit-eating grin spreads across Negan’s face. He gets slowly to his feet, picking your knife up from the floor, and crosses over to you in two quick strides, swiping the blade across your upper arm. Blood spurts across Negan’s face as you shout in pain, stumbling backwards.

 

‘No!’ Rick yells, stumbling to his feet and lunging for Negan.

 

‘No don’t!’ You cry, rushing forwards and blocking his way. You meet his eyes, pain reflecting in both of your faces. ‘Save me,’ you mouth silently to him before Negan yanks you back by your injured arm. Stopping in his tracks, Rick’s expression crumbles as he watches you wince in agony under Negan’s grip.

 

‘Listen fuckin’ carefully, Prick. This is how it’s gonna be: every time you step even a toe outta line, I’ll slice her pretty fuckin’ skin open like a knife through hot butter,’ he booms for the whole crowd to hear. ‘You have a week an’ if you don’t have somethin’ pretty fuckin’ special to show me after the stunt you pulled today, you’ll see how fuckin’ angry I can get.’

 


 

It’s like you never left. Sitting hunched against the cold stone wall, gripping your swollen arm that still oozes blood, you’re too empty even for tears. You saved them both, but you are lost. You close your eyes against the crushing darkness. Negan has won.

 

Then you hear an odd sound coming from in front of you. Through the infinitesimally small gap beneath the door slides something that sounds like paper. Blindly groping around on the floor, heart hammering in your chest, your bloody fingers wrap around a small scrap of paper. A message? There’s not an slither of light to read it by but just as you’re about to curse your anonymous messenger’s idiocy you feel slight indentations in the paper. Flattening it out on the floor, you carefully trace the tip of your finger over the indentations, almost screaming in triumph as you make out letters. One by one you spell out the stranger’s message:

 

ILL SAVE YOU D

 

Your mind races. D? Could that be a signature? D for Daryl… Had Daryl already managed to escape and get a note to you telling you he’s coming back for you? D… you can’t think who else it could be. But how had he done it? You’ve only been here for a few hours, dumped here by a sneering Simon after Negan had released you into his clutches with nothing more than a shit-eating grin and a murmured ‘I’ll be seein’ you soon, doll,’ in your ear as you’d watched his men haul Daryl’s beaten body into the back of the truck, Dwight dragging him by the hair while Rick stood helplessly by, his eyes fixed on you.

 

Bang. Bang. Bang.

 

The echoing sound of wood on metal rings in your ears as a voice that makes your stomach drop drifts through from the other side of the door.

 

‘How we doin’ in there, darlin’? Nice n’ cosy?’

 

You hastily scrunch up the note and shove it deep into your pocket, scrambling to your feet just as the door grates opening with a deafening scrape. The towering silhouette of a man with a baseball bat resting on his shoulder sends your heart to a frenzied panic. But you use the adrenaline to fuel your anger as your eyes adjust to the light and Negan’s rugged features swim into view.

 

‘Oh honey, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,’ he drools in a deep, husky voice, his hazel eyes roaming unashamedly over your body.

 

‘Fuck you,’ you mutter through gritted teeth, spitting on the floor at his feet just as Daryl had done earlier. You no longer care what happens to you, but you refuse to play along with him anymore. Negan steps towards you, towering above you as he looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his face less than inch away from yours. Tracing his lower tip with his tongue he lets out a long sigh.

 

‘Now this ain’t the way I wanted things to go down between us, doll,’ he murmurs in a low voice, his hot breath playing across your face. You stare resolutely back at him, allowing the fire to burn in your eyes. ‘I’m in a generous mood today but I’m also fuckin’ pissed with you an’ the lil’ fuckboy friends o’ yours. So I’ll give you a choice but if you don’t fuckin’ pick one — apparently that’s fuckin’ hard for you — I’ll kill ’em both and leave you in a room with their walker asses. You got that?’

 

You nod once, keeping your face void of the fear threatening to break your composure, allowing anger to rise like acid in your throat. Negan’s eyes narrow and his lips purse into a hard line as he senses the strength of your defiance. A gloved hand suddenly grabs your jaw, pushing your face up so that your lips are almost brushing against his as Negan pushes you backwards into the wall.

 

‘Here’s your choice, darlin’: option A, you come with me and we pick up where we left off. I’ll marry you and you’ll live in fuckin’ luxury with the rest o’ my wives. Option B, I’ll shove you into the cell with Daryl,’ your eyes widen as hope foolishly rushes through you. Negan grins, biting his lip as he watches it form in your eyes. ‘But I’m still gonna marry you… When I wanna relieve my fuckin’ achin’ balls, I’ll come get you and then when you return you’ll have to look into Daryl’s big blue eyes as my cum drips down your fuckin’ legs,’ he finishes with a malevolent smile. Your blood turns to ice in your veins. ‘Which’ll it be, doll?’

Chapter Text

‘Put me in the cell with Daryl,’ you hiss through gritted teeth, staring straight into Negan’s arrogant, hazel eyes. He cocks his head to one side, tracing his tongue along his lower lip before sucking it between his teeth, his eyes burning into yours. He lets out a long, deep sigh and you can feel the vibrations in his chest rattle through your body as Negan pushes himself close into you.

 

‘Now that is a fuckin’ shame, doll,’ he growls in his low gravelly voice. He lowers his face to yours, his nose lightly grazing across your cheek, so close that his lips brush against yours as he speaks. ‘But we can still have some fun together…’

 

You squeeze your eyes tightly shut and feel your body freeze into a statue as Negan takes your upper lip gently between his. His trimmed beard tickles your skin and he breathes in deeply as he moves his gloved hand from your jaw around to the back of your head, gripping your hair tightly. But his kiss remains uncharacteristically gentle. When he finally pulls away you’re left breathless, realising that you’d been holding your breath. You stare hatefully back at his smug expression as a shit-eating grin spreads across his face.

 

‘Dee! Get your ass in here,’ Negan suddenly shouts, his face still inches from yours and your hair still in his fist.

 

Suddenly your mind is racing. D? Like the D in the note? Is your potential rescuer one of Negan’s men? You hear a man’s footsteps enter the cell but Negan’s face is so close to yours that you can’t see past him.

 

‘Put her in with Daryl. Break ’em both, but don’t hurt her. She belongs to me.’

 

‘Yes, sir,’ comes a soft voice you recognise.

 

Negan gives you a wink and releases you. ‘An’ if she gives you any shit jus’ send her my way an’ I’ll fuckin’ deal with her,’ he growls, sauntering past the silhouette of the man who’s come to take you. Negan disappears down the corridor whistling a tune to himself.

 

You remain rooted to the spot, a small, pointless act of defiance that nonetheless fuels your anger. Then the man comes into view as your eyes adjust and your jaw drops.

 

‘Hey,’ Dwight says simply, his face expressionless but his eyes burning into yours, trying to say everything he can’t say aloud.

 

You,’ you hiss, stepping forwards ready to lunge for him, but he raises a gun to your chest, the cold barrel touching your skin. ‘You traitorous bastard,’ you spit.

 

‘Where’s the note?’ He whispers almost inaudibly. You stare at him blankly. Dee short for Dwight. How had you not heard him called that before?

 

‘It was you?’ You mouth silently. He gives the tiniest nod. You continue to stare, trying to make sense of it all in your head. He’d been the one who’d betrayed you and Rick to Negan. What game is he playing? Who is he playing?

 

‘Hurry up, if he finds it on you we’re both dead,’ he breathes. After a split second’s deliberation you reach your hand into your pocket and surreptitiously hand him the scrunched up note which he quickly pockets.

 

‘Move,’ he orders suddenly loudly, grabbing your uninjured arm and tugging you towards the door. Holding the gun to your head, Dwight marches you through a maze of corridors each lined with featureless doors that make it impossible for you to keep track of your direction. You walk together in silence, images of Daryl’s beaten and bloody body temporarily pushing out the shock of Dwight being your secret messenger. With each flight of stairs you descend your anxiety builds. You just want to run to Daryl and see that he’s okay, terrified of what state you’re going to find him in.

 

Eventually Dwight stops you outside a heavy metal door. A large speaker is plugged into the wall just outside beside an old-fashioned oil-lamp. Dwight turns to you, putting his gun in his pants, and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder

 

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers.

 

Before you have a chance to reply, he’s heaving open the heavy metal door to the cell. It’s even smaller than the one you were in before. In one corner sits a bucket, and in the other lies Daryl, unconscious, his face covered in blood and swollen almost beyond recognition. You run to him without thinking, sitting on the floor beside him and lifting his hand onto your lap, brushing his bloody, matted hair away from his face. Dwight clears his throat, drawing your attention back to him momentarily.

 

‘Here,’ he says in a low voice, pulling a small loaf of bread from beneath his jacket and placing it along with the the oil-lamp beside you, crouching down to light it with a cigarette lighter.

 

He looks at you for a moment and you nod your thanks. You don’t trust him for a second, but this small act of kindness reminds you of the comfort his presence brought you the last time you were in Negan’s clutches.

 

Dwight returns your nod and just as he stands up to leave he says in a low voice, ‘I’ll give you tonight.’ Then he shuts the door behind him, leaving you in near-darkness with an unconscious Daryl.

 


 

The soft glow of the oil-lamp throws Daryl’s bruises into sharp relief. You wish there was something you could use to at least clean the blood from his face, but you’re afraid that touching him would only cause him more pain. There’s a substantial amount of dried blood from a wound on his temple, but it has at least stopped bleeding. Gently placing your hand on his forehead you’re relieved to find he doesn’t have a fever, so at least there’s no infection yet. For a moment you think you see his eyelids flutter a little, but he doesn’t stir.

 

As slowly and carefully as you can, you lift Daryl up, making sure to support his head, and shift yourself so that you sit with your back against the wall and your legs on either side of his shoulders, resting his head gently back in your lap. You reach for the bread and tear off a small chunk, stuffing it hungrily into your mouth and trying to resist the temptation to finish it. With no telling when either of you will next see food, you know you’ll have to make it last as long as you can.

 

The adrenaline steadily leaves your body and exhaustion begins to creep over you, but you’re determined to stay awake until Daryl comes round to make sure he’s okay. You’re also desperate to tell him about Dwight’s note. Daryl had been in here before under Dwight’s close guard, so he should know better than anyone whether or not he can be trusted.

 

Resting your head against the hard stone wall you allow your mind to wander back to memories of before the world turned ugly. Absentmindedly stroking Daryl’s hair you find yourself humming a song you used to sing to your little nephew to get him to go to sleep whenever you babysat him. You sing it softly to yourself, caught up in the memory as tears roll mutely down your cheeks.

 

‘Someone like you

Isn’t meant to be defined,

Or confined,

Or even met eye to eye.

 

Just there to be explored

And then all the while adored

Someone like you,

Someone like you.’

 

You don’t notice Daryl shift imperceptibly in your lap, listening to you.

 

‘Someone like you

Is so beautifully designed,

From the hands

All the way to the mind.

 

Just there to be explored

And then all the while adored

Someone like you,

Someone like you.’

 

You close your eyes as that small memory of your old life momentarily drowns you in despair, tears flooding down your cheeks as you try to suppress the sobs so your shaking won't disturb Daryl.

 

‘Don’t stop,’ he murmurs from your lap. Your eyes fly open and you look down at him, but his eyes are closed and his breathing is slow and heavy. This isn’t a moment you want to end; somehow you know it will never be like this again. Taking a deep breath to stay your tears you sing for him, and for a short while it’s like you are the only two people in the world.

 

‘They say that home is where the heart is;

I guess I haven’t found my home.

Any we keep driving round in circles,

Afraid to call this place our own.

 

And are we there yet?’

 

Daryl lets out a quiet sigh, shifting himself onto his side and taking your hand to rest his cheek against your palm, his hand resting beneath yours.

 

‘They say there’s linings made of silver

Folded inside each raining cloud.

Well, we need someone to deliver

Our silver lining now.

 

And are we there yet?

Home, home, home.’

 

He rests his other hand on your thigh, tracing soft, slow circles in time with your strokes of his hair.

 

'They say you’re really not somebody

Until somebody else loves you.

Well, I am waiting to make somebody somebody soon.

 

And are we there yet?

Home, home, home.’

Chapter Text

‘What happens now, Daryl?’ You murmur tiredly, not wanting to lose a single second of this night with him before Negan unleashes whatever he has in store for the two of you.

 

‘We wait,’ he says gruffly, raising himself up and grunting in pain.

 

‘Anything broken?’ You ask, trying to keep the concern out of your voice knowing that he’s not one to want anyone to make a fuss over him.

 

‘I don’t think so, don’t worry ’bout me though, how’s your arm?’ He growls, bringing himself to sit next to you. The cell is so small that you’re squashed together, only just able to stretch your legs out straight. ‘Lemme take a look at it.’

 

‘It’s fine, honestly,’ you reassure him, but you wince as he lifts your arm to examine the wound just below your shoulder. When he brings the oil-lamp closer to his face you have to stifle a gasp.

 

‘That bad, huh?’ Daryl chuckles softly, running his finger lightly around the edge of the cut.

 

‘No, I didn’t mean…’ you say quickly, wincing at Daryl’s touch. ‘Just tell me you’re okay. Please?’

 

Daryl meets your concerned gaze and sighs, placing the oil-lamp back on the floor and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, careful not to knock your injury. You rest your head on his shoulder and he plants a gently kiss on your forehead before reaching for the bread and tearing off a chunk, handing half of it to you.

 

‘No thanks, I already had some,’ you say.

 

‘Take it. You gotta keep up your strength ’n heal,’ he growls softly.

 

‘We need to make it last. Dwight said he’d give us tonight,’ you can feel Daryl stiffen at the mention of his name. ‘But after that we don’t know when we’ll next get to eat.’

 

‘You need it. Besides, Negan won’t let you starve now you’re gonna be his wife,’ he replies quietly, his voice monotonous.

 

‘I had no choice,’ you whisper, your eyes stinging with tears again.

 

‘You coulda run,’ Daryl intones, the hand resting in his lap balling up into a fist.

 

‘Then you’d be dead! And so would Rick!’ You cry, pulling away from him to look him in his beaten-up face. ‘It’s all my fault, Daryl, don’t you get it? The only way to save you both was to give Negan what he’s wanted all along. I never should have run away from him in the first place, I never should have dragged you into this! I shouldn’t have even met you!’

 

You sob in earnest now, burying your face in your hands as the truth of your blame for this entire situation crushes you into a pitiful mess.

 

‘I’ve put everyone I care about in danger just because Rick was kind enough to take me in. He should have left me in those fucking woods to bleed out and get eaten by walkers, then you’d all be safe,’ you weep.

 

Negan did those things, Y/N,’ says Daryl firmly, tugging your hands away from your face and wrapping them in his rough palms. ‘We wouldn’t be any safer from him if you’d never bin found. Rick’s workin’ on a plan to destroy Negan ’n the Saviors because o’ you. You’ve brought the fight back to him, back to all o’ us…’

 

‘And now you’re all in even more danger than before - do you really think you stand a chance against him? He outguns us 10-1, you’d be a fool for thinking he won’t just kill us all! I can’t let that hap—’ Daryl silences you with a finger pressed against your lips.

 

He leans his ear towards the door, listening carefully. All you hear is silence. You’re just about to ask him what’s going on when you hear it, coming from somewhere down the corridor. The whistling. Two notes repeated, exactly the same as when you’d been here before. Always the same two notes. And you knew exactly what it mean.

 

As quickly and quietly as you can you shove the rest of the bread up Daryl’s shirt and shift yourself so you’re sitting on the opposite wall to him, drawing your legs up close to your chest and wrapping your arms tightly around your knees, trying to put as much distance between yourself and him as the cramped cell allowed.

 

‘What are you doin’?’ Daryl breathes, startled by your sudden reaction.

 

‘Negan,’ you mouth silently. Daryl goes to move closer to you but you throw out a cautionary hand to stop him. ‘No! He has to know he’s won,’ you whisper.

 

He searches you with an intense stare, trying to read you. You plead with him through your eyes, begging him to trust you and to understand. With a bit of luck he’ll think you’re planning on playing some game with Negan to get close to him and bring him down from the inside. What he can’t know is that you lost yourself to the last game you and he played, and you’re not willing to lose Daryl and Rick to another. Negan has won and that’s all there is to it.

 

Daryl nods and you give him a small smile which he does not return. He slouches back against the wall and douses the lamp, tucking it in the corner behind him. You stare at the darkness for a moment, wishing you could kiss Daryl one last time before Negan took everything away from you.

 

No, not everything, you think to yourself. They’ll still be alive. Daryl and Rick will still breathe.

 

The whistling grows closer, now accompanied by the sound of heavy boots on the concrete floor. They stop just outside the door. A deafening scraping sound fills your ears as it’s dragged open to reveal Negan, Lucille occupying her usual resting place on his shoulder. As your eyes adjust to the light you see his default shit-eating grin paint slowly over his rugged features as he looks down at you and Daryl.

 

‘Hey Dee!’ He roars, making you jump. Dwight appears from a room further down the corridor and marches quickly to Negan’s side..

 

‘Yes, sir?’ He intones monotonously, only briefly meeting your stare with blank, unreadable eyes.

 

‘Ain’t it about time you started havin’ your fun with this one here,’ Negan growls, lazily flicking Lucille in Daryl’s direction. ‘I’m gonna have a word with my bride-to-be,’ he drools salaciously, holding a hand out for you. You ignore it and stand up, bringing yourself up to your full height. Without a glance at Daryl you walk past Negan, butting your uninjured shoulder against Dwight’s. He grabs you by your knotted hair and pulls you into him, his mouth close to your ear and his gun pointing at your temple.

 

‘Easy there, Dee,’ Negan chuckles, as Daryl scrambles to his feet and shouts a string of profanities at Dwight. Negan elbows Daryl hard in the gut, sending him stumbling backwards coughing and spluttering.

 

‘Play along with him. I have a plan to save you both. I swear on my wife’s grave,’ Dwight whispers hastily in your ear, taking advantage of the commotion and hiding the movement of his lips in amongst your tangled hair.

 

‘I said easy,’ Negan growls menacingly at Dwight, ignoring Daryl’s grunts and uttered curses as he falls to the floor, his injuries taking their toll. Dwight releases you and holsters his gun. ‘She’s mine. That piece o’ shit on the floor there, you do whatever you wanna do an’ don’t hold back,’ he grins.

 

Dwight nods once and strides over to Daryl. Negan wraps his arm tightly around your waist and half-carries you away from the sickening sounds of Dwight’s boots meeting Daryl’s body as his cries fills the air. You look back and the sight of him defenceless on the floor at the mercy of a man who may or may not be your only way out of here, breaks you.

 

‘Daryl!’ You scream, trying to tug yourself from Negan’s grip. Daryl’s groans fall silent and you know he must have been knocked unconscious again, but Dwight continues to beat him. ‘DARYL!’ You wail, tears cascading down your cheeks, but your struggling grows weaker against Negan’s immovable grip as once again you’re forced to concede the truth: Negan will continue to break Daryl until you comply. Daryl’s pain is on you, and if he dies his blood will be on your hands.

 

‘Stop looking, doll,’ he says in a low voice. As you round a corner you turn your head back and glance furtively up at Negan. His face is hard and his eyes cold. The rest of the walk is silent aside for your sobs, which you don’t even bother to stifle now.

 

You’d cracked within a day of promising to give yourself completely to Negan in order to save the people you love. Negan knows you’re only doing it for them and that makes them more vulnerable than ever. If you can’t keep your feelings under wraps then they may as well have died in front of you yesterday.

 

‘Now doll, I can’t have you knowing your way around here,’ Negan says patronisingly, the corners of his lips tugging into a sly half-smile that makes your hair stand on end. He brings you to a stop and pulls something from his jacket pocket. ‘So I’m gonna have to put this on you.’

 

Before you have a chance to react, you’re plunged into darkness.

 

‘What the fuck d’you think I’m going to do? Leave a trail of fucking breadcrumbs?’ You yell, your anguish and fear turning into anger as Negan secures the blindfold. You can feel him close to you, the heat of his body and the smell of leather, tobacco and whisky suddenly overpowering your senses.

 

‘Oh I’m sure you ’n Daryl ’n ol’ Pricky Boy have cooked up some half-assed fuckin’ fairytale of a plan to kill me,’ Negan mocks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

‘I promised to become the latest addition to your collection of fucking wives, what more do you want?’ You spit. You can almost sense Negan’s expression hardening. He grabs your chin roughly with his gloved hand and suddenly you can feel his breath tickling your ear.

 

‘I want you to want to marry me,’ he murmurs huskily, inhaling deeply as he traces the tip of his nose down your neck, his lips almost brushing against your skin as he speaks in his deep, gravelly voice. ‘See darlin’, I ain’t gonna force you to do anythin’ cos’ I’m not a fuckin’ monster. I ain’t gonna marry you ’til you beg me to, an’ not to save the life o’ some other guy you fucked, but because you’re so fuckin’ desperate to belong to me, to have only my fuckin’ dick inside you that you don’t even remember what those other tiny-dicked fuckers felt like when you get down on your knees and beg to marry me.’

 

‘How can you possibly believe that the way to win a person’s respect, let alone their affection, is by torturing them and the people they care for?’ You growl through gritted teeth, your hands balling up into fists at your side.

 

‘Oh darlin’,’ Negan sighs, his hot breath playing across your skin and raising goosebumps across your entire body. ‘That’s entirely on you an’ you know it.’