This story is something I've wanted to write for a while, but have been hesitant because of the nature of the content. I've written Negan into my other fics but have always felt like I was holding back. I'm going to really unleash him in this one, so expect lots of gore, swearing, and adult situations.

I'm even going to throw in a trigger warning, just in case. This jumps into being graphic pretty much immediately, but it's necessary to set up our OC's predicament.

So, there's your warning. This is going to be graphic and unpleasant at times (not all the time, don't worry), but I think (hope) you'll love the heart of the story.

This is a Daryl/OC fic, so just make it through the first chapter or two and then we'll get to our favorite hunter and all of that pleasant stuff. Well, as pleasant as it gets when you're facing off against the Saviors.

I'm rambling. Sorry. Anyway, please let me know what you think and if you'd like to see more of this story. I'd absolutely appreciate your input.

And just for the sake of being thorough: This chapter contains sexual content. I don't own anything in this fic except my OCs and any non-canon happenings.

Enjoy!

-B

PROLOGUE

"There's no one else but you," Ivy purred, ignoring the bile that threatened to rise into her throat as she stood in front of the man she hated most in the world. She stepped toward him and shrugged a crimson bra strap off of her shoulder before tucking her long, red locks to the other side of her neck, exposing the pale flesh of her collar bone. "I could never love anyone but you, Negan."

"That's fuckin' right, Red," he growled in return. He licked his lips suggestively as he reached out and wrapped a large arm around her waist, pulling her closer to where he sat on the edge of the plush, king-sized bed.

Ivy fought to contain the chill that ran up her spine at his touch, the way it always did when lying with him was inevitable. She didn't have a choice, though. As much as the leader liked to preach his disdain for rape, she had been forced into his harem of wives under penalty of death should she refuse.

She'd only been in the Sanctuary with Negan's group, the ironically named 'Saviors,' for a month, but he had already called her to his bed several times. Ivy made the mistake of resisting the very first time she'd been forced to surrender herself to him and had paid dearly. He'd screamed at her in his deep, booming voice and let her know that if she refused to perform her 'wifely duties' she'd go without rations. She called his bluff and spent the next two days lying parched and hungry in her bed before finally giving in.

Avoiding him wasn't worth dying of thirst or starving to death. She'd need her strength if she was ever going to escape the confines of the old factory, and if she had to sleep with the enemy to accomplish it then that's just what she'd have to do.

Before she'd been dragged to the Sanctuary, as she was wandering alone through the wilderness, she liked to imagine all the loved ones she lost were watching over her. She wondered if they were proud of how she'd survived so long and of the skills she'd developed.

Now she prayed they couldn't see she'd turned to whoring herself out to save her hide. It was shameful, but she had no other immediate options.

"You gonna fucking stand there all fucking day or are you gonna wrap those hot lips around my cock?" the dark-haired man taunted, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Sorry, my love," Ivy smiled seductively, stroking a hand down his cheek. "I was just thinking about all of the things I'm going to do to you."

Negan smirked maniacally at her words and unceremoniously reached down to unzip his pants before shuffling them off of his legs and revealing how his erection strained against the fabric of his dark-gray boxer-briefs.

"Strip," he ordered with a flick of his wrist toward the flimsy lingerie she wore, his other hand trailing down to stroke himself lightly.

Obediently, she reached her hands behind her back and unhooked her bra before slowly sliding it down her arms and tossing it to the floor, her breasts on full display. She wanted nothing more than to get the whole show over with, but he preferred when she put on a bit of a show and she was determined to gain his trust and favor. It would be a valuable weapon against him when she finally made her move.

He leaned back on his hands as he leered at her exposed chest, his eyes so lust-filled they were nearly as black as the clothing he wore. She forced a sexy smile as she leaned down to leisurely remove her red, lacy panties and drop them next to her discarded bra.

Ivy hadn't felt insecure being naked in front of a man for years, but there was something about the confidence and control that radiated off of Negan that made her feel as vulnerable as the day she was born. She'd faced, and defeated, both human attackers and the undead, but he was somehow more terrifying than all of them combined. She caught a glimpse of his barbwire-wrapped Louisville Slugger, the leader's constant companion, leaned against the night stand and it only lent more speed to her racing heart.

Negan caught her stealing glances at his bat and smirked. "I see you eye-fucking Lucille," he teased, referring to the weapon. "Either you're trying to figure out how you can bash my fucking skull in with her while we fuck or you're admiring how goddamn sexy she is. You want her to join in, Red?"

"I'm sorry," Ivy stammered, "I was just thinking that she's-"

"Beautiful?" he grinned. "Badass? The motherfucking most terrifying fucking thing you've ever seen in your fucked-up life?"

"That last one, mostly," she admitted.

He chuckled for a moment before motioning for her to kneel before him. "Enough chit-chat, Red," he growled as she quickly moved to sit in front of him, her face even with his tumescent member. "The only noises I want to hear coming out of that sexy fucking mouth of yours are the sounds of you licking my dick like it's the best fucking lollipop you've had in your fucking life."

She nodded her head obediently and went to work, pleading to the universe for it all to be over quickly.

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"We can't stay here much longer," Ivy whispered. "More and more of them are showing up every day. They'll notice us eventually."

The boards of the cabin where her group had sheltered for the past week creaked loudly in the wind. Each noise the building made was a risk. One of the dead could hear it and head their way. Then another. And another, until the place was taken to the ground by a herd and they had nowhere to run.

She'd only known one of the six people she was traveling with before the outbreak, her cousin Alexandra, and while the others were once strangers they were now deep-seated in her heart. They made an exceptional team and had fallen easily into their respective roles, which ultimately helped them stay alive.

Don, a middle-aged Veteran, and his twenty-year-old daughter Leah had met up with them somewhere in Eastern Kentucky as Ivy and Alex trudged northeast. They were kind and capable, and Don's strategic skills had gotten them out of more than one hairy situation.

They'd picked up Dana, Robbie, and Marco a couple of weeks later in West Virginia, the three of them also a tight-knit group of former strangers. They'd met each other in the chaos of the initial outbreak, each of them with their own gruesome stories to tell of how they'd ended up alone, and they banded together to survive for nearly a year before they combined with the other foursome.

Don pulled the tattered map he always carried out of his pack and laid it on the floor in the middle of the group. "I've mapped out a route that will help us stay parallel to the major highways without actually having to risk traveling them."

"Looks like the towns are pretty spread out going that way," Dana remarked, brushing a lock of short, blonde hair out of her face. "Will we be able to find enough supplies along that route?"

"We're pretty good on gas and water right now," Robbie answered confidently. "If we don't find anywhere to scavenge along the way we can hunt. Alex can search for plants we can eat. We'll make due."

Initially, Ivy had expected Alexandra to be a burden. A welcome one, as she was glad to have her younger cousin around to protect, but she was concerned she wouldn't be able to survive if she were to die and leave Alex on her own. As it turned out, her outdoorsman father had instilled more than a little useful knowledge in her about surviving in the wild. She wasn't remarkable with weapons, but she helped build fires and keep them fed, and that was as important as anything else.

"All we can do it give it a shot," Ivy shrugged, taking a swig from her canteen. "If we get lucky, which I realize we rarely do, we could get as far as DC in the next couple of weeks."

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"Mother of fuck, Red!" Negan's voice boomed, whipping her out of the memories she often drifted back to when she needed to forget her new reality. She peeked up through her lashes at the leader and saw that his head was thrown back, his eyes shut tightly as she began to feel his bitter warmth fill her mouth. "Fuckity-fucking-FUCK!" he groaned, his blissful state doing nothing to quell his mastery of the f-bomb.

When he finally stilled, Ivy squeezed her eyes shut, discreetly pinching the back of her leg sharply to distract her from the act of swallowing his seed. She'd been warned early on by the other wives that the narcissist saw anything other than that as an insult, and so she swallowed her pride, along with everything else, and obliged.

Her shame always grew exponentially in those particular moments. Playing the part of a willing, dutiful wife was all part of her strategy, but the feeling of humiliation that coursed through her was overwhelming. She was more pet than person. More blowup doll than living, breathing woman.

It kept her alive, though.

Anything to stay alive.