Chapter Text
Negan hummed and Daryl spasmed under him, finally giving in to the release of another mind blowing orgasm.
Slick dripped down Negan’s chin and he kept flicking and sucking the head of Daryl’s red, overstimulated t-dick, watching his face for the moment it would be too much. Daryl never cried uncle; if Negan wanted to he could have sucked and flicked and hummed for hours and Daryl would have cried and screamed out his orgasms, shaking until he couldn’t move or see and just kept going. Fucking energizer bunny style.
Sometimes he did want that, and sometimes he even allowed himself to push Daryl beyond where Negan would have stopped for any of his other partners. When he was feeling mean, or angry. This morning, though, he saw the twitches that meant Daryl was winding down and let him, leaning back and wiping his chin.
Negan prowled over to his dresser and pulled out clothes. He needed to get started on his day. Daryl was still laying in bed, legs spread, right where he left him once he was done. “You learn quick. Go ahead and get dressed, I got shit to do.”
Daryl sat up and started pulling his own clothes on. The dingy sweatshirt and sweatpants were gone. Negan preferred his things to look good, and Daryl was his. The possessive urge to take him again came up, and he wandered over to where Daryl was about to pull his shirt on. The black cargo pants hugged his waist, gave him plenty of pockets, and they fit him well enough he didn’t need a belt when they were fastened. The tight black tee shirt was still in his hands and he paused the moment he was within Negan’s reach, warily eyeing him.
Daryl liked to tuck his shirt into his pants. Which meant that they were still unbuttoned and loose when Negan slid his hand down them. Sliding his fingers over his cock, in between his folds, and held them still out, just feeling the heat and moisture waiting for him. The heel of his palm applied pressure against Daryl’s cock, but nothing more. A flush crawled up his face as Negan looked at him, hand down his pants, just resting and claiming what was his.
Slowly he pulled back out, loving the way Daryl’s hips subtly rose to chase him, even while the man kept a stony expression on his face. Still fighting me.
Negan was usually bored by new fuckbuddies at this point. He liked variety in what he wanted to do and most people weren’t able to keep up or willing to try what he was in the mood for. Or worse, they would kowtow to every suggestion then freak out.
Daryl fought him, but also met him on every level. It was intoxicating.
Negan took his fingers and slipped two of them into Daryl’s mouth, he watched as the other man’s pupils dilated as he tasted his own slick pre-cum on Negan’s hand then started licking and sucking them. The dance of his tongue made Negan’s pants start to tighten.
A dangerous smile spread across his face.
He really didn’t have time to fuck Daryl again, not the way he wanted to. He could have Daryl give him a blow job, sink to his knees in front of him and pull his cock out of his pants. Paint his face with cum and leave it to dry as he worked through the day. No limits.
But he wasn’t a complete ass all the time. He loved all of the marks on Daryl’s skin that proclaimed him Negan’s, but that would be a step too far… at least for today.
Today was Alexandria’s tribute day, the first tribute since Carl came five days ago and Daryl offered himself to Negan to keep the kid safe.
A lot had changed for Daryl during those five days.
He no longer went back to the cell at night, but came to Negan’s room. At some point, Negan knew he would get tired of Daryl and send him to a private room. Still nearby for easy access, but not in his bed every night.
He no longer wore the disgusting sweats. He wore what Negan told him to, and Negan would have more fun with that later. Currently Negan liked how his deep tan looked against the black clothing, how his bruises looked like war paint.
The dog food sandwiches were done. Negan wanted him to be energetic, which meant a better diet, and plenty of hydration.
But he was still expected to work. The first day after the deal, when Negan was finally forced to leave Daryl to deal with an issue with a herd that was behaving oddly had started Daryl's new work routine. He called Alejandro in, told Daryl to go with him. “You’re assigned to Ale today, but you’re back here tonight. Behave for him.”
Daryl’s reaction should have clued him into the misunderstanding, but he was pretty satiated and not thinking dangerous thoughts for the first time in a long while, so he missed the way his words could have been interpreted.
Negan didn’t kill Alejandro, but it was a close call. He was an adult and put the blame on himself. It helped that things didn’t get far. Daryl may not know how possessive Negan was, but everyone else did.
Ale went straight to his room to grab his hunting gear, which compounded the issue. Negan had assigned Daryl because Ale was going to hunt relatively nearby, and trusting him beyond the walls when the threat was still fresh and he was barely able to walk was better than later. Ale grabbed his skinning knife and Daryl started stripping.
Ale saw Daryl take his shirt off and reach for his buckle before spinning around. His English wasn’t the best but he knew, “Stop!” and most importantly, “Negan will kill me.” They still hunted, Daryl bagged a few squirrels and Ale got a turkey. Daryl wouldn’t have told Negan about the incident, but Ale was too afraid he would find out and told him about what happened when he returned Daryl that evening.
Ale had bolted as soon as he could, leaving Daryl and Negan alone with a firm click of the door. Negan had just stared at Daryl, breathing through his possessiveness and letting thoughts come and go as he waited to calm.
When he punished, he preferred to be calm.
It was during this cooling off period he saw that Daryl wasn’t just afraid and ashamed, he was terrified and mortified. Negan played his orders back in his head and could see how they could be interpreted, but what prompted Daryl to initiate.
Asking questions then wouldn’t have been productive.
Negan fucked Daryl hard, leaving possessive marks all over him, more than he already had. When he finally asked, his aggression bled off and left on Daryl’s skin, Daryl was matter-of-fact about it. “I didn’t want to have to walk back here naked.”
Daryl had a new rule. “If I let someone have you, fuck you. I will be explicit, and I will be involved.” Daryl had shivered at that, an all over twitch like a horse trying to knock off flies.
They settled into a rhythm, like a good fucking, and Negan was generally pleased and laid back from it. To the point that even his wives commented on it.
But today he didn’t have anymore time to fuck Daryl, despite how much he enjoyed watching the man fight with himself and the pleasure Negan dragged out of him. So he smiled dangerously and removed his hand, stepping back and raising his eyebrow to add a mocking air. “Go on and finish getting dressed. We’re done for now.”
Daryl tucked his shirt in and sat on the bed to pull his boots on. His hair swung in front of his face, obscuring it, and Negan wanted to wrench his head back by the strands and leave everything exposed for his examination. Down boy.
He needed to get a fucking grip on himself.
To give his hands something to do he walked over and picked up Lucille. Daryl watched her warily, but didn’t stop or flinch. Negan warmed his muscles up some with her and wandered to the door; Daryl followed a few steps behind. When Negan walked into the parlor, the wives were all lounging, breakfast finished and just enjoying their own activities.
Eyes tracked them when they walked out, Sherry took a step backwards and drew Negan’s eye. She was talking to Dwight, who was waiting to be Daryl’s guard for the day. The possessive twinge was still there, a candle’s flicker to Daryl’s untamed blaze, and Negan made a point to look between them and the distance between them grew.
“Dwighty-boy! Right on time. Carson wants to look over Daryl’s shoulder, remove the stitches. He’s with you today after that.” Negan went and snagged a handful of peanuts that had been left and ignored on the wives’ food tray.
“I thought I’d be going with you to Alexandria.” Dwight said, confusion coloring his tone. Negan spotted Daryl’s reaction and it made him sharper with Dwight than he deserved, he didn’t know that Daryl was in the dark about what day it was and Negan preferred him that way.
“You have things to be doing here,” Negan’s tone was flat, a mild rebuke. His attention was on Daryl, who looked to be working through his own thoughts. “Got a problem, Daryl?”
Daryl met his eyes steadily, the internal struggle obvious to Negan but hidden from everyone else. “No.”
“No?” Negan pressed, “You sure about that Darlin’?”
Daryl twitched, a minor flexing of his broad shoulders, he might as well have rolled them and shook his arms out for how much it gave away to Negan’s piercing gaze. “No.”
“Good,” Negan purred, watching how Daryl’s tan darkened with a flush at the praise.
He forced himself to leave.
Outside the pull of Daryl time sped up, no one could keep his attention the same way. No one was as dangerous and vulnerable in the most interesting of ways.
Until he rolled up on Alexandria.
Unlike the first visit the gates were opening as they approached, much better.
Rick was waiting for him when the trucks pulled in, standing off to the side with a stony expression. Carl was nowhere to be seen. Which was a good thing, part of Negan’s deal was he was supposed to leave Carl alone.
Daryl was doing beautifully holding up his end of the bargain, meeting every thrust and never trying to weasel his way out of it. He never hesitated more than a second, never dragged out coming back to the room, never complained. Didn’t try to escape when Negan dangled opportunities in front of him.
Negan would make sure to keep his end up in the same way. He even brought a different crew this time, one with less grudges against the Alexandrians. It was impossible to find enough Saviors without any grudge, so he did his best.
Stepping out of the truck, Negan had a spring in his step and Lucille had a sway in hers. Rick scanned him, assessing for weaknesses, and then his eyes darted over the Saviors as they got out of their trucks. Looking for someone in particular.
Negan’s smile turned wolfish as he walked up to Rick, crossed into the invisible bubble most people had, and filled his vision with him. Rick swayed backwards but didn’t take a step, accepting the invasion and keeping a few badass points. “Looking for someone?”
Hatred flared in his eyes, the blue turning crystalline and hard with it. Negan could cut himself in that glare; bleed out. His tongue poked out of his teeth and he watched as Rick controlled himself enough to try to talk. “Daryl?”
Negan laughed, a short burst meant to startle and mock. He reached out and placed his hand on Rick’s shoulder, leaving himself open for attack because he knew he could. “Daryl’s at home, Rickey, got a doctor’s appointment. But not to worry, if you’re both good boys I might bring him next time for a little playdate.”
Rick wanted to ask, Negan could see it, the questions trapped in his mouth and being ground down as his jaw flexed. He went to step back and get some space between himself and Negan, so Negan dug his fingers in a little, pinned him in place. “We need to talk anyway, why don’t we step somewhere private?”
Rick waited until Negan released him to try to move, but then he turned and led the way to a house, one that Negan knew was empty of people. Which was both smart and stupid for the same reason: no witnesses. There was a strong possibility that Rick would try to kill him, still.
Negan walked into the house past where Rick was holding the door with all of his senses on alert, adrenaline coursed through him and made everything sharper. Outwardly, he disguised his blood pumping with a low whistle of appreciation and an obvious look around. It wasn’t looking-for-enemies, it was admiring-luxury, a subtle difference in the way he kept his arms loose and where he let his eyes settle.
Rick didn’t attack him from behind, which was not super surprising, he was a stab-you-right-in-the-dick-and-watch-you-squirm kinda guy. His footsteps were freaky quiet, but he was pushing an aura of danger out so much it didn’t matter. Negan tracked him easily.
To make sure to keep him in his place, Negan wandered over to the kitchen and started exploring. He opened the fridge like he was a kid back from college and looking to raid his parent’s food, revealing empty shelves. The waste frustrated him immediately but he tamped it down. Why the fuck have a fridge eating up electricity if it’s not even keeping anything cold?
The Alexandrians were spoiled rich kids. With their resources they struggled to keep just over sixty people alive, Negan could house almost three hundred here. Their land wasn’t poisoned and he could see the start of farming, but it looked to be in its infancy. They had burned through all their supplies and only started when things got desperate.
Short-sighted fuckers. I bet they were thinking someone was gonna come and save them, well Daddy’s fucking here and he’s gonna whip you into shape.
It wasn’t fair to get mad at children for behaving like children, it was his job to teach them better. He reached over and unplugged the fridge, “I can use another one of these for my mancave.” If kids couldn’t be responsible with something you took it until they could be trusted.
Rick’s fists clenched at his sides, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. “I wanna thank you.” Negan looked over, smile unmoved, and tamped down his confusion. Rick should be thanking him for so many things. But he was surprised he knew that, maybe he was learning. “Thank you for returning my boy to me. Thank you for not hurting him.”
The smile turned predatory and mocking. “You’re so very welcome, but it’s not me you should be thanking. No. Daryl is the one who paid for that little stunt your boy pulled. Carl came and machine gunned down a bunch of my men, someone had to pay. But the bill is all settled, so nothing for you to worry about.”
Rick’s face turned white and then red, Negan was ready for the attack, but like in the RV Rick needed a little extra push. It was better to get it out and smack it down than let things like this fester. “Daryl covered your tab and left a big tip, so-” He didn’t even need to continue, Rick lashed out.
Negan caught his fist, tugged his arm to lock Rick’s elbow and slammed him back using his outstretched arm as leverage. Lucille came up and rested against his chest and slid up to under his chin, tilting to force his head away and grinding it into the wall. Rick panted out his aggression, Negan leaned in to pin him with his body, getting close to whisper in his ear.
“Now Rick, you really burning through the good mood Daryl worked his ass off to get me in. Is that polite?” The body beneath him was so tense it might have been made of marble, despite how soft the Alexandrians were their leader was still a lean mean fighting machine. “Now, I get how you may not wanna share, but you don’t have to. Daryl is mine. So come to grips with that fast, or you’re in for a world of hurt.”
Rick wasn’t going to let it go, Negan could tell from the way his jaw flexed against Lucille. “Not today, not tomorrow. Right Rick? Well, when you wanna try again I’ll be here. I’ll stomp on your dick so hard you won’t ever walk straight again. I’m always gonna end up on top Ricky, but it’s okay. I like the fight.”
The door opened and Rick flinched against him, not able to turn his head because of Lucille. Negan waited a second before slowly looking over to see who interrupted a very fascinating interaction. Alejandro stood at the doorway, waiting patiently for Negan’s attention, when he got it he launched into rapid Portuguese.
Negan released Rick and took a step back, giving him room to slide away and get some extra space, when he didn’t it was almost interesting enough to make him blow off Ale. But his people didn’t interrupt him without a very good reason, and Ale was agitated. The words mortos esta atacando stood out and he let out a chuckle. “Sorry Prick, we gotta sword fight another day. Oh shit, you have a samurai around here right? Might actually get to have a real sword fight one of these days.”
Rick followed him out, blood trickled from a few scratches at his neck. Saviors were all standing near the trucks, and they looked to Negan immediately ready for orders. “Alright people. We get to go spill some blood. Wade, your crew will stay and load up the goodies. There’s a fridge in here for you to take too. Good thing cause the pickings are looking slim.”
The Saviors all hopped in their trucks, leaving the largest to Wade and his crew to fill. Negan was heading there with a pep in his step when he was fucking waylaid by Carl. He stood right in Negan’s way, and Negan was tempted to just skirt around him. You leave him alone. How the hell was he supposed to do that if the little serial killer kept throwing himself at him?
Carl was almost as fascinating as Daryl, in a completely different way. Carl was the future of the world, a tough little shit with enough umph to get things done but still a human under all those prickles. Negan wanted to scoop him up and take him from Alexandria and the weak murderers that lived here. Set him up in Sanctuary, maybe even get him to oversee a community in a year or two. You don’t keep him. A deal was a deal, and Negan fully intended to keep his end up as long as Daryl did.
Normally if someone stood in his way like that he would just lay them out and keep walking. You don’t hurt him. He felt the restrictions of the deal like physical bindings in this moment, frustration bleeding out of his pours. Negan wasn’t used to anything stopping him from behaving exactly like he wanted.
He stopped in front of Carl, outside of his bubble. While Rick would attack him, he would do it out of sight where there was a chance the Saviors wouldn’t see, Carl didn’t have the experience to weigh his battles. There was gauze over his eye again, and Negan wanted to snatch it off, but kept his hands to himself. “Hello, little badass, you got something to say to me?”
Rick fluttered behind him, moving as though to go around him and block Carl from his sight. Alejandro wasn’t a big guy, built lean and wiry like an alley cat, but he was vicious and looked dangerous enough when he pulled out a skinning knife and blocked Rick that he stopped him. Negan registered the movement out of his peripherals, pretending to be unbothered and oblivious to it.
“What did you do to Daryl?” Carl snarled, all bravado and teenage hormones. Somehow he hadn’t lost the aura of thinking he was invulnerable that all teenagers had. There were definitely flashes, he understood danger, but his default was I am smarter and tougher than everyone else. Which just made Negan miss his students with a passion.
His first response jumped to his lips but he tamped it down. At some point Daryl would be a Savior, ideally a lieutenant, Negan tried to balance that future with his current possessive situation. “Nothing he didn’t agree to, little man. Agreed to for you, I might point out. You getting yourself in more hot water? Daryl’s the one that ends up burned.”
Carl went white as a sheet, Negan did a minute sway forward, testing the waters. If Carl started to move he would turn that sway into a step, bullying Carl out of his path. If Carl froze and didn’t move, he would turn it into a lean in and growl some more threats at the teen. Carl leaned back and Negan took a step, that was enough and Carl almost scrambled out of the way.
As Negan pulled up to his truck he looked back, letting Alejandro skirt by him to get into the back. Rick was right there, his hands in fists as he tried to gain control of the situation. Leaning in, Negan smiled as Rick refused to cower, “Now Rick, I’m gonna go work some frustrations out. Let’s see if next time you can be a bit nicer? Really not fair to put Daryl in the crosshairs now is it?”
Negan resolutely did not worry about Wade, he was calm and professional, and the Alexandrians would be suicidal to mess with him. He had his own things to worry about, a herd was sneaking up on The Pines, and the community needed some saving.