#simon x female reader

Simon x Fem! Doctor! Reader

Warnings: Language, Blood, Injury.

A/N:I’ve updated my masterlist so now all the Doc and Simon fics are categorized together. There were just so many that it seemed best to do it that way! Reminder: the Doc and Simon fics aren’t technically part of a series, but a few of them do reference each other.

Word Count: 3.0k

“Does that surprise you?”

There had been quite a buzz going around The Sanctuary for the last few weeks. There was talk and whispers about the new doctor that had been welcomed aboard Negan’s kingdom of Saviors, and how everyone was relieved to finally have medical care back at The Sanctuary. The Sanctuary’s previous doctor hadn’t met Negan’s expectations (for lack of a better explanation) and he had been dealt with promptly. Negan didn’t have a replacement on deck, and there wasn’t anyone at The Sanctuary that was qualified enough to act as an interim medical doctor. 

The Sanctuary went far too long without someone with a professional, medical background. Saviors were dropping left and right, because without someone who really knew what they were doing to patch people up – there were going to be unresolved illnesses and injuries. The Saviors were getting crafty with treating themselves, and it was beginning to get dicey. Without proper medical care, they were prone to infections and unsterile environments that would make a mild injury something much more serious. Negan was desperate for a doctor, because he couldn’t afford for his people to keep dropping the way that they were. 

To be honest, Negan wasn’t really sure where the hell you came from. Negan didn’t really know where most of his Saviors came from. Most of them were already at The Sanctuary when he arrived, and some of them just kind of wandered in and became part of the clan. You, though, were hand delivered to Negan. 

Negan couldn’t help but be surprised when Davey, one of Negan’s most resourceful saviors, escorted you into his “conference room” with a proud smile on his face. 

“Boss, we might’a found a doctor for you.” Davey had said.

Negan’s face lit up like a noon summer sky at those words. You were an opportunity to be The Sanctuary’s saving grace, and you were the answer to about 30 of Negan’s problems. Negan had turned on his unmistakable charm then, because he needed to convince you to stay.

Correction: Negan had to convince you to stay.

Negan had personally shown you around The Sanctuary, explaining the ground rules and the do’s and don’ts that he had set into place. He had shown you where your room would be, and it was a clean, nice sized room that was honestly more like a small apartment than a bedroom. He spent extra time in the infirmary, allowing you to look around and get a sense of your work environment. It was actually an impressive exam room given the current worldly conditions. With a little bit of work and a bit of a woman’s touch, you could have this place full operational in no time. 

There wasn’t any fine print with Negan’s job offer. He said that you’d be the only medical assistance in the whole place, and that the workload was going to be hefty. Negan explained the dire situation that The Sanctuary was in now and (to directly quote Negan) “they were really damn fucking desperate” for a doctor. 

There were hundreds of Saviors after all, and with the kind of work that they had to do to keep this place running – it was no doubt that you were going to have your hands full. Negan also told you that you were going to have to tag along on supply runs when necessary, specifically the ones that were more accident prone. Even with knowing that, you were confident that you could make it all work. 

It was an enticing offer, and you would’ve been lying if you had said that it wasn’t the kind of opportunity that you had been longing for. You missed being in practice, and the thought of not having to brave this world alone anymore in and of itself was enough for you to say yes. 

Sure, Negan’s rules were pretty stupid and really only self-serving to him. At the end of the day though, putting up with a few sketchy rules beats having to barely scrape by with your life every day. So, you said yes, and you were put into effect immediately. 

Your first official day was a breeze. You spent most of it familiarizing yourself with the medical supply closets and with the infirmary to get a sense of how you wanted to rearrange it to be more functional. You had a few Saviors come by, most of them were just genuinely friendly Saviors that had heard the breaking news of your arrival, and they were popping in to say hello. It was nice to be welcomed the way that you were, and it was even better to be needed. However, you might’ve been a tad too quick to wish for that kind of necessity, because your second day was a hurricane compared to the first. 

From the moment you entered the infirmary to the time you walked out, there was a Savior in your presence in need of medical attention. Some of them were pretty minor, but still worth taking a look at. A few of them, though, actually tied you up for more than an hour or so. Negan hadn’t been kidding – this was in serious need of a doctor. The days to follow in the next few weeks followed that same pattern. You were strung out from the moment you showed up in the morning until the moment you sent the last Savior on his/her way at the end of the day. It was tiring, but it didn’t take you long to fall into a healthy rhythm.

However, you did notice as the weeks went on that the visits you were getting were becoming less dire – both because you had caught up with the injuries and now everybody knew that there was a new doctor in town.

That was one teeny tiny detail that Negan didn’t mention was the lack of women at The Sanctuary. The men outnumbered the women by an embarrassingly large number, and all of the “eligible” women that were present were off limits due to Negan’s wife rule (which you found out through Arat, who had come by to get a poison ivy rash looked at on her arms). You hadn’t been at The Sanctuary long enough to receive one of Negan’s infamous marriage proposals, which meant that you (on a technicality) were on the market.

When the word was fully spread that the newest Savior was a single, non-Negan taken woman – it was game on. It was a competition of sorts, and it didn’t take you very long to figure out what was going on. Suddenly, Saviors were coming in for the smallest of ailments all the way from unstoppable hiccups to a leg cramp from three days before. They were coming up with anything they could to get the chance to even merely speak to you, and then ultimately make a move on you. Some were more forward than others – the nicer ones you had politely declined and the more aggressive ones you had told to piss off. This went on for weeks, and it was beginning to get maddeningly annoying.

Some of the Saviors that you turned down got the message the first time, and only smiled kindly and left you at peace. Others were more stubborn, and a few even came back for multiple attempts. It seemed that they just couldn’t take no as an answer, and by the time your first month at the Sanctuary had passed, you were confident that you had met and seen every Savior for one reason or another that The Sanctuary had to offer.

All except for one. 

You had shooed Richie out of the infirmary after his second attempt that week to sway you, kicking him out with a string of colorful language directed towards him. It seemed that the more you said no, the harder that the rejected Saviors tried. You were going to have to come up with something, because this was beginning to really drive you nuts. Not only were all of these empty visits useless, but they caused you to have to fill out a new form each time. Negan was nosy, and he liked for you to have forms made for each visit and then turned in at the end of the day. He said it was for “inventory tracking purposes”, but it was really just because Negan didn’t want anything slipping by undetected. 

You sat in your wheeled stool with a heavy sigh, rubbing at your forehead as you used your free hand to write down the details of Richie’s “ongoing ankle pain” that was by far the worst excuse that he had come up with yet. Your scribbling on the paper paused when you heard a pair of heavy footsteps approach from down the hall and stop in the infirmary’s open doorway. Your head fell back slightly in annoyance, and you fired off an irritated greeting without even turning around to see who it was.

“Todd, I swear to God if you’re here again about your bullshit allergy headache then I don’t want to hear it.” You growled, looking back down at the sheet that was resting on a book that was propped in your lap.

The man answered, but it was an unfamiliar voice – and one that did not belong to anyone that you knew.

“Well that’s no way to treat a first timer, is it?” The voice remarked.

You quickly spun around in your chair, suddenly alarmed at the new presence. Most definitely, you had not expected to see Negan’s right-hand man standing at the doorway. A grin was spread on his face, amusement plastered over his features at your rather rude reaction.

You had heard all about Simon. You knew he was second in command, and Negan’s most trusted Savior. Even though no one had outright said it, you had put the pieces together that Simon did most of Negan’s dirty work. In your craze of trying to get settled and fighting off persistent suitors, you hadn’t been allowed the chance to meet Simon yet. 

“Oh, Simon! I’m sorry, I….I honestly wasn’t expecting you.” You admitted, a hot flush flooding through your cheeks.

“Most people don’t.” He replied, and based on his most beaming smile – you anticipated that you’d be adding Simon to your list of slimy men trying to get a quick trip into your pants. 

You stood from your chair, motioning for him to take a seat on the exam table. He obliged, sitting on the table and waiting patiently for you to get a new form started. 

“I would introduce myself, but it seems as if you’ve already been given the rundown on me.” Simon said.

You had to admit, you could already tell that Simon had more personality than most of the other Saviors. 

“I have. I think that’s to be expected of someone in such high standing as you undoubtedly are,” You couldn’t help but smile, setting the rest of his form to be filled out after you looked him over. “I get the feeling that you’ve already heard quite a bit about me as well – but for formality, I’m [Y/N].”

“Simon,” He returned the cheek. “I’ve heard a few whispers about you. You seem to be in good standing with the boss man so far.”

“Well thank God for that, right?” You said sarcastically.

Simon chuckled at that, and you didn’t waste any more time getting to the point. Simon had visible charisma. You were intrigued just by looking at him. He carried himself so prominently and confidently, but he wasn’t intimidating – not to you, at least. Something was different about him, but you weren’t quite sure what it was.

“So, what are you here for? Paper cut? Mosquito bite? My hand in marriage?” You questioned.

Simon’s brows knitted together quizzically, and he was hesitant with his answer.

“None of those?” He held up his left hand to reveal that it was wrapped in a bloody shirt, and there was an apparent nasty injury underneath. “You have quite the bedside manner, Doc.”

You immediately felt bad for heckling him like that, and you shifted your demeanor. 

“Oh, fuck. You’re actually hurt.” You announced out loud, although it was meant to be a non-verbal thought.

“Does that surprise you?” Simon laughed again. 

You turned to the sink, scrubbing your hands and under your nails to get them clean to examine him properly. 

“Well, no….but kind of. I have to admit that I’ve had several hoaxes in the last several days.” You explained, drying your hands thoroughly. 

“Ah. Has the endless hassling already begun? Usually happens when we get a new lady on board.” Simon replied. 

“It’s been constant,” You ranted, mainly because Simon seemed as if he’d genuinely listen. “I get the pickings are slim, but-”

“It’s annoying.” Simon finished your sentence with a knowing smirk as you walked over to stand in front of him.

“Painfully,” You agreed, changing the conversation a bit. “How did this happen?”

The sleeves of your shirt were bunched up at your elbows as you pushed them back – followed by you snapping on a pair of latex gloves. You began to unwrap the t-shirt from Simon’s hand to reveal his injury. Sure enough, Simon had a gory slice from the bottom right corner of his palm that went diagonal to the other side. It was a deep cut, and it wasn’t something that needed to go unattended. 

“Got caught on a jagged part of the fence. Usually it’s my pants, but this time my hand got the treatment.” Simon told you.

His voice lowered an octave or so when he spoke, and it sent a rush of tingles down your core. He had an odd effect on you, one that you hadn’t experienced with anybody else before. You held his hand in both of yours, looking over it carefully. He had large, strong hands that made yours look petite. He had a few veins that ran on the top of his hands, and calluses on the pads of his hands. None of this was surprising, considering that pretty much all of Simon’s work was very hands-on.

His injury wasn’t anything life threatening by any means. You could have it cleaned up, stitched, and wrapped in no time. Simon watched you as you intently and carefully looked over his palm. He found it endearing the way you were so focused and skilled. 

“Well, I can get you fixed up. No problem,” You told him, with a smile. “You have time to spare?”

“I’ve got all the time in the world.” Simon grinned again.

You wanted to be sure to do the stitches slowly and correctly to give him the best chance of it healing correctly and without a noticeable scar. Simon must’ve had a bit of a queasy stomach, because he looked everywhere but his hand. The two of you chatted while you worked on getting him stitched up, and the longer that the two of you talked – the more comfortable you became. 

He was an interesting guy. Simon wasn’t like anyone else here. He talked to you instead of at you. He asked just as many questions about you as you did about him. He was genuinely interested in getting to know you. You found that admirable, and to be honest – you already liked him.

“I have to say, you’re much nicer than when I first walked in.” He announced.

“I really am sorry about that. I swear I’m not that dismissive as a doctor,” You explained. “I just thought you were another one of those.”

“I get it. I know how the male population around here tends to act,” Simon remarked. “I’m not one to make excuses on others behalf, but most of them really don’t mean anything by it.”

“Well, I just hope that their attempts don’t get any worse.” You sighed, finishing the last of Simon’s stitches.

“Believe it or not, Negan won’t stand for that. If you tell him, he’ll handle it.” Simon suggested.

That was hard for you to believe. You doubted that Negan was going to step in to help you fend off sexually frustrated Saviors. Negan didn’t seem like the type to stand up for a woman that wasn’t his – but it was at least worth a try. 

Simon did watch as you wrapped his hand, layering and bandaging it to protect the new stitches. Normally, you never minded when people watched you work. It was their body after all, and you understood the curiosity to know what was happening. For some reason, you were overly aware that Simon was watching – and you were extra cautious to keep your movements perfect.

“What’s the verdict, Doc? Do you think I’ll make it?” He joked as you were finishing up, and his smile sent a chill down your back.

“Oh, I think you’ll make a full recovery. Come back in a few days so I can check the stitches and rewrap your hand,” You instructed. “Just keep it clean and rest that hand. It’ll be good as new in a few weeks.” 

“Sweet,” He beamed. “Thank you for the help.”

You finished wrapping his hand, and took a few steps back to allow him room to get up.

“Anytime. That’s what I’m here for.” You returned a smile, sliding your gloves off and throwing them out.

Simon didn’t immediately leave. He had a certain glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you. He stood on his feet as if he wanted to say something, but was hesitant to. You wanted to know what he wanted to say, because something told you that you’d be happy to hear it. 

“I’ll see you around, yeah? Hopefully I’ll see you more often,” Simon charmed, changing his original thought. “Now that we’re acquainted and all.”

Your face went red-hot. He was flirting. He was totally flirting, and you were loving every second of it. There was something different about him, and something was stirring inside that you weren’t used to.

“Of course. You know where to find me.” You returned, giving back the same energy.

Simon’s smile was much more seducing and it had knowingness written all over it. He bid you farewell and exited the infirmary – leaving you speechless and wanting more. Maybe it was a hunch or just a damn good intuition….

But Simon was going to be the start of something wonderful.