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My Savior

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Hi. My name is Nyssa Johnson. I live at the Sanctuary ever since Negan saved me from a group of walkers I’ve been admiring him from afar for as long as I can remember. But I would never tell him. His wives are tall, beautiful, and thin; I’m short, homely, and overweight.

But everything changed the day Negan saved me from Simon.

I’ve always been a hard worker - even before the apocalypse. I’m used to breaking a sweat and doing what she needed to do to make ends meet. Though the currency was no longer dollars, the food, shelter and respect- especially Negan’s respect I gain from my work at The Sanctuary infirmary is enough to keep me motivated.

After a really long day I head into the women’s shower room, remove my clothes and stand beneath the water as it washes over my head. At this time of the night I almost always have the space to herself. It’s my favorite part of the day. When I can just be alone with my thoughts.

The Sanctuary was a place where I felt safe. I had stopped looking over my shoulder while inside the walls a long time ago, so when an arm unexpectedly slid around my middle as I was getting dressed, I screamed, only to have my mouth covered by a large, obviously male hand.

“Shh.. it’s just Simon.” He whispered against my ear, prompting me to push my body away from his.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded, already feeling violated as I struggled to cover my top half with my hands, my pants and underwear around my knees.

I went to reach for my towel but Simon grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him with a sneer.

“I know you’ve been hiding some feelings for me.” He growled, looking at me like a predator looks at his pretty

“Yeah, it’s called nausea.” I tried to use humor to get out of the situation but he didn’t let up. When his arms tightened around me, I began to struggle, which only made him laugh.

“Ease up baby... give it up for ol’ Simon.” He began to kiss along my neck as steam took over the room.

“Get the fuck off me.” My voice shook slightly , since the situation had escalated more than just a couple of notches. “I’ll scream.”

“No one will hear you.” Simon held me tightly with one arm and began to rub down my body with the other.

“Negan will-“ his hand pressed against my throat to cut my air off, his tone growing more angry.

“Negan won’t do shit,” he hissed.

I continued to try fighting him off, but he pinned me against the wall so they were face-to-face.

“What do you say you-“

I spit in his face and he slammed my hands against the wall, sending a shrill pain up both arms.

“Say yes,” he demanded, rubbing up against her. “You know you want it, bitch.”

“No. Get the fuck off me, Simon.” I look away as he moved his face closer to mine, breathing whisky-scented breath into my face

“No spelled Y-E-S.”

I prepared for the worst and closed my eyes, convincing myself I could handle it. I’ve handled worse, it’s the apocalypse. I heard the sound of his zipper, and the burn as he pulled my thighs apart and started to shove his dick in me.

When Simon was suddenly pulled away from me I peeked my eyes open, holding my hand against my chest immediately as the pain spread just slightly.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Simon was on his back holding the back of his head and I stared at the back of Negan’s leather jacket.

I breathed heavily, my hands beginning to shake from the trauma of the situation. Tears developed in the corners of my eyes but they never fell.

When Negan turned to me I instinctively covered herself again and flinched when he took off his jacket and offered it to me.

“It’s okay,” he assured me. “You’re okay.”

“No I’m not,” she said back, letting a tear fall but accepting his jacket. “He was gonna... he almost...”

Negan looked at me intently. “Go to Dr. Carson.. please. Get that wrist looked at.”

It was the first time I had heard him use the word please in the four years I’ve known him. When he glared back at Simon and tightened his hands around the handle of Lucille, I knew that the man who had assaulted me would not be getting away with it - regardless of his status amongst the Saviors.

I agreed to Negan’s request to see the doctor when his eyes softened a bit as he looked at me again.

“I’ll be down to check on you,” he assured me. “This type of shit simply does not fly with me,” Negan looked back to Simon, “I don’t give a fuck who you are.”

I nodded, hanging Negan’s jacket on a hook while I pull my shirt on. Then I sigh and pull the jacket back on. Then I head to the infirmary. Dr Carson looked up from restocking supplies, surprise written on his face. He took one look at me and hurried over.

“Nyssa, what the fuck happened to you sweetheart?”

“Simon, he um... I was in the showers, and he pushed me against the wall. He hurt my wrist, and my shoulder. But I’ll be fine.” I sat on a cot, pulling my knees to my chest and rotating my wrist slowly. “See, it’s fine.”

“Why would he... oh. Oh my god.” the doctor trailed off as I started to cry, shaking from the adrenaline. “Did he, you know... was there penetration?”

I let out a semi-hysterical giggle. “Yeah, a little. But Negan stopped him. Thank god he was hungry and went to get a snack when he did.”

Dr Carson scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Simons always been a bit of a prick, but I never thought he would go this far. He knows Negan’s policy. He won’t let this slide.”

At that moment the man in question stalked angrily into the infirmary, causing me to flinch involuntarily as he turned towards me. His eyes softened and he walked over to me, sitting down and reaching for me slowly. I fell into his arms with a sob.

“Hush now darlin’ it’s ok, I’ve got you. You’re safe now, he’ll never touch you again. By tomorrow he’ll never touch any woman like that again. Unless he miraculously beats me.” Negan rubbed circles over my back and kissed the top of my head; I looked up into his gorgeous hazel eyes and cocked my head in confusion.

“Beats you? What are you talking about?”

“He wants to be leader, I’m giving him a chance to be leader. We’re gonna fight for the leadership of the Saviors. If he manages to get me to tap out, or kills me, he deserves to be leader.”

My heart drops into my stomach and my arms unconsciously tighten around his middle at his words, and my voice cracks as I answer. “Kills you? Negan, no, please. I can’t live here without you, I need you. I’m gonna be looking over my shoulder every day now as it is. And I...”

Negan cuts off my rambling by cupping my cheek in his palm, tipping my chin up with his thumb and kissing me softly. My arms wrap around his neck and my fingers tangle in his hair before I realize where I am when Dr Carson clears his throat. Negan chuckles against my lips and kisses me softly again before I can pull away.

“It’s about damn time you realized this idiot is crazy about you. I was getting real sick of listening to you talk about how much you wished he would look at you the way he looked at his wives.” I scoffed and threw a pillow at the doctor.

“Hey I told you all those things in confidence!! That’s the last time I trust you with my secrets.”

“So is she good to go, Doc? It’s late, and she’s just been through a lot.” Negan looked up at the Sanctuary’s physician, holding me against his chest. “I’d really like to take her back to my room so she can sleep without feeling like anyone could just walk in.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with her wrist, and her shoulder is gonna bruise, but that should be the worst of it.” He looks at me, concern evident on his face. “But if it bruises or swells, or you can’t move it without pain, I want you to come back.”

“Ok I’ll let you know tomorrow when I come for my shift. Thanks Doc.” I try to stand, but my legs collapse under me and I fall back on the bed.

“Nope, not happening, Princess. I don’t want you anywhere I can’t keep an eye on you until that asshole is dead.” He kisses my forehead as it creases in concern. “Don’t worry about me, doll, I’m not dying until I’m good and ready.”

“He’s tough, Negan, I know you don’t need to be reminded of that. After all, that’s part of the reason he was your number two. I’m scared for you. What’s gonna happen to me if you die? Where the hell am I supposed to go? Hilltop? I mean, I suppose I could go to the Kingdom, assuming I could make it there without getting bit. And that’s a big if.”

“He may be tough, but I’m tougher. That’s why I'm leader and he’s not. Nothing is gonna happen to me, I promise. Now let’s go get some sleep, come on.” He stands up and picks me up before I can attempt to stand again, holding me against his chest. I curl my fist in his shirt, yawning. I feel his chest rumble and hear his low chuckle.

Once we make it to the end of the hall leading to his room, I look up at him. “I’m ok, I can walk from here.” He nods, setting me down and taking my hand before we walk down the hall and unt o his room.

I sit down on his bed with a sigh after tossing his jacket on a chair and stepping out of my pants. Negan pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on top of his jacket. “I’ll sleep on the chair, you can have the bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, we’re both adults. Plus, it’s been way too long since I’ve cuddled with someone.” I stop, blushing. “Damnit, I mean, I don’t know if you’re into cuddling. Your wives always make it seem like you kick them out after... and now I’m making you seem like an ass. Anyway, point is, we can share the bed. I can stay on my side if you don’t want to cuddle. I just don’t want to sleep alone.” I slide under the covers and sigh softly. “Holy shit this mattress is way more comfortable than mine. I’m gonna hate to go back to my room tomorrow.”

Negan laughs, the lines beside his eyes crinkling. “If I win this fight tomorrow, you won’t have to. You can stay with me, if you want.”

“Oh yeah, your wives would love that. Especially Amber. She’s already got it out for me just cause I look at you too long sometimes.” I laugh quietly. “But I hate that bitch. And I don’t want to be that far away from you anyway. Especially since I don’t feel safe right now.”

The tall man crawls into bed next to me, patting the mattress next to him. “Scoot over here, doll. you look exhausted. Let’s get some sleep, and I’ll take care of that asshole Simon tomorrow.”

I smile and blush softly, scooting over and laying my head on Negan’s chest. “Goodnight, Negan. Thank you for saving me.”

“No need to thank me, darlin’. You know I don’t tolerate that shit. That is no way to treat a lady, especially one as special as you. You deserve better. You deserve to be cherished.”

“What did Dr Carson mean? About us being crazy about each other. I mean, I know I’ve had a crush on you since almost the first moment I saw you. But you’ve got your wives, and they’re beautiful. I’m nobody, I’ve been nobody since before the apocalypse.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Nyssa. You’re beautiful. Stunning, even. I’ve been into you for a really long time, but I never thought you would be into an asshole like me.”

I open my mouth to answer, to tell him he’s really not that much of an asshole, instead letting out a huge yawn, making Negan chuckle. “I’m tired, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

I smile and blush, closing my eyes and falling into a fitful sleep. I wake up with a scream, drenched in a cold sweat. “No, get off me!! Simon, stop!!” I struggle against the arms holding me, still half asleep.

“Baby, shh, it’s me. It’s Negan. You’re ok, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

I collapse into Negan’s embrace with a sob, his familiar scent of musk and whiskey calming my nerves. I bury my face in his chest, embarrassed. “God I’m sorry, Negan. I dreamt he was... that you didn’t... fuck, I’m so sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t worry about that, doll. It’s time to get up anyway, I’ve gotta get ready to fight that asshole.” My arms instinctively tighten around Negan’s neck; I’m terrified for this fight. Negan runs his fingers through my hair softly. “Hey, it’s ok. I told you, I’ve got this. He can’t beat me hand-to-hand.”

He grabs his jacket and slips it on, then grabs Lucille before turning to me and smiling as he holds out his hand. I take it, noticing how my hand shakes. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath; Negan’s thumb rubs over the back of my hand softly. I open my eyes, staring up into his hazel ones, and nod. “Ok, I’m ready. Let’s go take care of this asshole.”

“Are you sure you want to see him? You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I’d be back before you know it.”

“No, I need to be there. I need to watch him die.” I snarl softly, my free hand curling into a fist. “Hell, I’d take Lucille to him myself if you’d let me. But it’s gonna be really hot watching you fight him. And you’re right, he’s no leader. There’s no way he’ll beat you.”

We make it to the main room of the Sanctuary, where everyone is standing around in a circle, the few people who support Simon behind him and everyone else scattered around the circle. I flinch as Simon’s eyes rake over my body, until Negan steps in front of me.

“Hey, it’s ok, he won’t touch you. Not as long as I’m breathing. You’re fine, darlin’.”

I nod, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Go show that asshole why you’re leader and he’s not.” Not caring that we’re in a room full of people and Amber is probably around here somewhere, I stand on tiptoes, wrap my arms around Negan’s neck and pull him in for a lingering kiss.

When I pull away, Negan chuckles and kisses my forehead. “I’ll be right back, beautiful. You wait here. Unless it gets too much for you, then I’ll just meet you in my room.”

I nod, and watch as Negan strides to the middle of the circle, silently staring Simon down as he hands Lucille to Arat. Finally, Simon begins to speak.

“Everyone! After this is done, we get to work. Just know that I didn’t want this. But the Sanctuary must stand. This is not the man to prosecute this conflict. Just wanted to say... a grateful enclave— thanks you.” I gasp and flinch as Simon turns and backhands Negan without warning. Then he starts kicking him, not letting him back up.

I ball my hands into fists as hot tears spring to my eyes. I flinch after every kick. “Come on, baby, get up, please.”

Negan manages to get to his feet, only for Simon to punch him in the face again. He grabs the other man and gives him an elbow to the back of the neck. They continue trading blows until Simon is the one on the ground. Negan’s hands are around his throat before he can react.

“You went for it all at the Hilltop. You got Saviors killed, then you ran away like a coward! You got shown up one too many times. Those people, they are always gonna know that there’s a loophole, a way to skate. They are always gonna be looking for that chance to push back, so now I gotta kill all of ‘em, just like I’m gonna kill you!”

I faintly hear the sound of Simon’s windpipe cracking, and I take a deep breath. That was when I realized I had been holding my breath. I take a few steps closer to the middle of the circle, the stop and wait for Negan. He stands up and turns toward me, panting.

“What an asshole,” Negan grumbles as he walks away from Simon’s body. I whimper softly and gently wrap my arms around his middle, breathing in his scent, reassuring myself he’s fine. Negan wraps one arm around me and tips my chin up to look in his eyes, giving me his signature smirk. “Hey darlin’ it’s ok. I told you I’d be fine. I’ve got you, baby.”

We walk back to his room, stopping on the way so I can grab some alcohol pads from the infirmary. The tall hazel-eyed man smirks at me, and I roll my eyes at him. “I won’t bandage your cuts, but let me clean them, it’ll make me feel better.”

“Alright, doll. Actually, I gotta go talk to Dwight, but I’ll be back soon, I promise.” Negan let’s me clean his cuts, then kisses my forehead. “Go back to our room, ok?”

“Yeah, ok. Hurry back, alright?”

Negan nods, walking away with Lucille over his shoulder. I turn around to walk toward what I’ve already started thinking of as our room, and then it all goes wrong. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I kept gasping out while trying to control the shaking that seemed to have overtaken my whole body. Tremors that started out faint enough but escalated are wrecking my whole frame and I can’t seem to remember how to breathe. With each struggling breath I hate that bastard even more. Fucker makes me hate him more than ever for having this kind of effect on me. Negan killed him and he made it slow…bastard got what he deserved for trying to force me to… to... I gasp, my hands instinctively going to my neck trying to find the breath that seems to have been eluding me ever since then. I can’t breathe. I can feel the panic rise, and as I try to find purchase on the walls strong arms wrap around me and before the panic can set in even more that spicy, musky scent that could only ever belong to one man in this hellhole envelopes me. “Breathe” he mutters in a throaty, husky voice, his lips on my ear, his breath hitting my neck with each exhale. “You’re ok, I’ve got you.” “I… I... I can’t-“ I cut off as he tightens his hold against me, my breasts squashed against his chest and he starts breathing deeper pushing my lungs to follow the movements of his unforgiving chest and slowly I start to follow. Time passes, I don’t know how long but we’re just breathing there in the hallway, my breaths matching his own and eventually my gasping dies down. We’re just standing there, almost swaying and the panic is nearly gone. I know I’m safe with him. I know that despite the abundance of violence against people who defy him, he would never be a threat to me. “What happened sweetheart?” he murmurs gently against my hair, and I realize I don’t even remember. Someone must have passed me by, touched me and that was all it took for my body to decide that there was a threat. I hate it. I hate it, how touch is never good anymore, how I can’t stand something that I used to thrive on, and suddenly in the wake of the adrenaline and the desperation of the panic I can’t think anything but how his touch isn’t horrible, and after that realization hits, I need his hands everywhere. “Touch me… god... please, just touch me.” I say as I unclench my hands from his shirt and try to reach everywhere I can, my palms traveling across the planes of his back, one finding a sturdy shoulder, while the other mercilessly tangles in his pitch black hair. “I think I’m kind of already doing that sweetheart” he drawls, smirking, his whiskey eyes dark and half-lidded while they travel across my face; his hands though, remain still, where they have been all this time, wrapped around my shoulders and waist. “You know what I mean.” I almost whisper while staring at him. “Darling I don’t think-“ “Negan please...” I cut him off bringing my forehead against his, nudging his nose with mine. He brings one of his hands to my face, his fingers tilting my chin, lifting my face from where I had hid it against his neck, and my need, my want must be plain as day, because he gives in, as much as Negan ever gives in. “I need you. Make me forget. Make me forget how he smelled, the way his hands felt on me.” “Alright sweetheart,” he says on an exhale. “But we do this my way.” he shoots me that devilish smirk, and before I have time to question anything his hand has slipped inside my pants and he palms me through my panties, his rough calloused palm creating the most perfect friction. It all happens so suddenly, so fast, and before I have the chance to even think of panicking his lips are plying mine open and his hot tongue is tangling with my own and all I can do is moan. A needy, keening sound that comes from deep inside my throat and seems to overwhelm not only me, as he responds in kind, a rougher, deeper baritone that I can feel against my lips and chest being his only response. My hands are both tangled in his hair and I can feel him move us both against the wall, his taller stronger body caging me in, his scent enveloping me, and as his lips leave mine and latch onto my throat, sucking and nibbling on my skin, his hand tugging my panties aside, his deft, calloused fingers delving in my folds, his other gloved hand taking a firm hold of my neck and lower strands of hair, tugging them in the most pleasurable way, and his teeth still worrying my throat, panic is the last thing on my mind. I’m lost in all the sensations he’s pulling from my body, my mouth falls open in a perfect oh, my eyes shut when his thumb brushes up against my clit and my hips snap up against him, my hands tugging him even closer. “Aah, Negan fuck.” I gasp and I can feel him smirking against my neck. “There you are.” He mutters smugly, letting his teeth graze my throat and my breath hitches, while I try to contain my groans. ”No, darling let me hear you. Those are mine.” He says in a deep firm voice and I can do nothing but what he ordered me to do. All the while his fingers have been slowly, achingly slowly, pushing in, while his thumb periodically brushes up against the tight bud of nerves that makes shocks run through me. My thighs are quivering and my legs have fallen open, while his hand on my neck is the only thing that’s keeping me upright. My fingers are wrapped up in strands of his hair and I’m pushing up against him, my body rocking along with the movement of his fingers. He suddenly pushes another finger in, deeper along with the rest and crooking them just so, and I’m left gasping for breath. “Ooohh, oohh, please..please” is all I can hope to manage. “Now we’re talking. Huh, darling, is that what you want?” he asks darkly, and my only response is another gasp, before the pressure that has been building up in me explodes with just a crook of his fingers inside me, his gloved fingers digging into my neck and my vision whites out. I can feel him still pumping his fingers in and out of me, milking my orgasm for all it’s worth and it is almost too much. With a last brush against my clit that has me keening and shuddering all over, he pulls his hand out of my pants, leaving me wet and messy and oh-so oversensitive. The rough and sticky cotton of my underwear is almost too much and my hips are still moving until his hand leaves my neck to steady them. Then it leaves again, and goes to his neck, unwrapping that scarlet red bandana that is almost always there these days and bringing it to his other hand, messy with the pearly white evidence that is the aftermath of what just happened. It’s almost too much suddenly and my hands leave his messy hair to clutch onto his jacket. He must sense something being off, because his gloved fingers are on my chin again, his thumb brushing up against my cheek, and all I can do is look at him and breathe out. “Oh sweetheart…” he says quietly, almost under his breath and his eyes go soft. His arm goes across my shoulders wrapping me in a half-hug, his lips mashing up against my forehead and the sticky strands of hair there and I can feel him murmur “Let’s get you to bed, huh?” And with half of my face mashed against his breastbone I stumble along with him, feeling no less unsteady than I did before he came along, but way more certain that even if anything were to happen again, at least he would always be there.