#negan/original female character

[ysoandi]

Y/N: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you...

Negan: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.

[hunterssm00n]

Natural Born Sinner / part 3 /

The Comedian has addictions too, and they include more than just cigars and violence. | Eddie Blake/OC |

part 3 of 3

also on ao3: here

*cw include dubcon smut, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, degradation, stalking, emotional/psychological abuse, misogyny, name-calling, breaking and entering, past abuse, dark themes*

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hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

What will I say? / What will I do? / Maybe it's fear / That leads your rage / Maybe you're me, and I am you

He lurched both of them forward so she was thrown up onto her knees, pushed her face first into the peach colored tile wall, and she knew it was all over. 

With one surge, she was pushed face first against the tile wall, and there was barely a beat that went by before he pushed himself inside of her. The girth and length of him stretched her and filled her so good; she let out a wild animal sound that she'd never before made in her life. 

It was all over now. 

With that first stroke, all of her resistance had evaporated. It was all him now - he took over everything like he always did. He'd never left her mind. What was the point in even trying to make him? He was right; no matter what, it always ended this way. And when it was this good, what was really so bad about it? 

Her brain was all Eddie, Eddie, EDDIE!

She moaned his name, her body rocking against the wall in time to his steady thrusts, "I hate you,"

His breathe was coming out in hot gusts against the back of her neck, and he groaned when she used her inner muscles to squeeze around him, "I know you do," He didn't even try to argue with her - he always knew the struggles she had in her mind about him. He was, in fact, irresistible, something he prided himself on. "But ya also fuckin' love me." 

In between gasps, she breathed out, "That's a load of shit!" 

Eddie chuckled deeply behind her, "That's a real sexy thing to say right now..." 

"Shut up," she moaned out, her cheek against the tile shower wall. The man behind her reached around to her front to grope at her breasts, and she whimpered at the feel of his hot, calloused hands palming her sensitive flesh. She was close already, though she didn't want to be. That would just mean he'd won, once again. "Eddie..." But God, she couldn't help it. Everything was just so good, so fucking good - it was like trying to stop a train moving at a hundred miles an hour on a dime. 

As if he could read her mind, he rumbled into her hair, "We just fit so damn good, baby; we're perfect fuckin' matchin' puzzle pieces, that's why it feels so damn good all the time, every time, that's why I can't fuckin' stay away from you and you can't fuckin' say no to me - we're two peas in a pod, hun, uh, fuckkk," He said all of this while he was fucking her, her body bouncing against the porcelain edge of the tub. 

The whole time he was babbling just brought her closer and closer to her release that she knew would be one of many this evening. Her fight was steadily receding back to the recesses of her mind as her pleasure mounted and was brought to the forefront of her brain. EddieEddieEddieEDDIE-

"Oh, no," she moaned out, unable to stop herself.

Eddie Blake chuckled into her hair, taking pride and pleasure in her defeat, "Cum for me, 'Chelle,"

She let out another animal noise that she'd never made; one of pure pleasure and defeat as her sweet release exploded; he was right. She couldn't say no to him. Only he could bring her this type of pleasure, give her this kind of high. Only. Him. 

He slowed at her back as she came down from her orgasm, kissing her hair, her neck, her shoulders. She openly shivered at the feel of his scratchy beard on her soft skin, but it was a good feeling. The thought of defying him did nothing for her anymore; it had all been zapped from her mind with that first release. Her body that had once been held rigid against him with defiance was now liquid and compliant. Her limbs contained no further fury to fight at the moment. Maybe tomorrow she would feel different, but now, she didn't care. Right now was all about her and him. 

He had not come yet; he wouldn't for a while, she knew, and he gently turned her around in his arms in the bathtub and pulled her in to kiss him on the lips. "Baby..." She openly accepted his kiss now, the fight gone from her body, satisfaction having turned her bones to liquid and satiating her for that moment. His tongue met with hers and she let out a low moan against his lips, kissing him back lazily. The wet sounds of their lips meeting gave her a tingly feeling in her lower back, and she felt the familiar arousal slowly returning to her core. She didn't want to fight anymore tonight. She wanted to be with him like a lover, to enjoy his company like he was her boyfriend. She didn't want to fight anymore; she just wanted him.

This was it. He'd broken her down once again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and accepted his embrace, pressing her damp breasts against his equally damp chest. The hair on his chest tickled her nipples and she tried to scoot her lower body closer to his across the bottom of the tub. It was easier said than done; the bath was barely big enough for one person, let alone two people, and one of them being built like a linebacker. Bed. Move to the bed. The thought made her breath quicken and her throat suddenly parched with thirst for him, and she started to rise up out of the bathtub, her hands not letting go of him. He must have misunderstood because he held fast to her waist as she tried to stand up off of her sore knees that she knew would have bruises all over them. "Where you goin'?" came his rasping voice, sounding ferocious, his brown eyes alight with a dangerous fire.

She gulped, her breaths coming heavy with her own arousal, chest heaving, "I- There's more room in the bed," She barely got the words out before he rose up out of the water, holding her body flush against his and pulling her up with him. Apparently she didn't have to tell him twice. When they were both standing and she was flush against him and she realized once again how much he towered over her, how much bigger his body was than hers, the musky smell of him permeating all of her senses. Why did he have to be like this? Why couldn't he be disgusting, not charming, not handsome? It wasn't fair. Maybe a stronger woman could resist him, but she wasn't that woman. She wanted him and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Between her legs ached, and she rose on tiptoes to press her hips against his to try and relieve some of the pressure, hoping his cock would slide between her legs and rub against her soaking wet lips.

"Thought you wanted to go to the bed?" One of his big hands tangled into her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck, She let out a wordless whine as he licked a hot, wet line up her neck to her earlobe, where she felt his scruffy chin scrape her skin deliciously. "That's okay, we can go there after."

After?

Then he hoisted her up into his strong arms without warning, her thighs on either side of his hips and his hard flesh pressed against her core. Moaning with need as he pressed her back against the wall, she gripped his broad, sinewy shoulders with both hands as he pressed his hard, steel rod into her glossy opening. "Ohh, fuck, doll, you're so fuckin' wet," he groaned as he began thrusting at a steady pace. The pleasure between her legs exploded almost immediately, and her head lolled back against the tile wall, desperate sounds of pleasure winding their way out of her throat. "Fuck yeah, this what you like baby? Is this what you want?" he huffed as his hips bounced against hers with a wet slapping noise. He spread her open so exquisitely, fully filling her to the brim and giving her a sensation of being stretched that was unmatched. No one else could make her feel like this. Yes she did like this, yes this is exactly what she wanted. At this angle he was grinding against her clit, and with a shriek she came again, her walls clenching down on his cock and her nails digging into his shoulder sinew. "Yes baby yes," His hips stuttered against hers, and he gave a final hard thrust as he spilled himself inside of her. "Oohhh fuckkk," He grunted and held them both there for a few minutes, both of them and trying to catch their breath.

And then he said, "Now, what was it you were sayin' about a bed?" 

Michelle looked at him for a moment before she broke out into giggles - giggles like she was a fucking schoolgirl or something. She realized she was probably drunk on his presence; that was what she would chalk it up to. "You're insufferable." She shook her head, but couldn't help the smile on her face. 

"I'll show you insufferable, baby," With that, he hoisted her up into his arms so they were no longer leaning against the wall in the bath, instead he was supporting them on his two legs with her in his arms. He leaned in to kiss her, his tongue lapping at hers as he stepped out of the bathtub with her in his arms, his large hands holding onto her thighs and ass to keep her elevated in his arms. She kissed him back with fervor, not caring about anything else at the moment. She just wanted to enjoy his presence like he was a normal man, and she was a normal woman. She knew it was hypocritical of her to be cursing his name one moment and (screaming it) kissing him the other, but right now she simply did not care. He'd made her come more than once tonight so far, and she knew he was bound to make her come plenty more times this evening. Heaven knew they had a long night ahead of them; she just wanted to relax and enjoy it without feeling guilty or angry at him, or herself. She was just too damn tired to keep up the act tonight. His presence had a way of doing that to her.

She felt a cool, hard surface under her backside, jumping a little at the unexpected contact, and when she opened her eyes she realized he had walked them into the kitchen and had placed her down on the counter top where he'd first cornered her. 

"This is where it should have happened first." 

The hair on the back of her beck rose, and she knew what was going to happen before it even did. "Eddie-" She was cut off by him leaning down and taking a ripe nipple into his mouth, lightly scraping his teeth across the hard bud. Much like before, she leaned her head back with a smack against her cabinets on the wall, a hiss of pleasure escaping through her teeth. She felt his calloused fingers trailing down her hips, over the tops of her thighs to slip between them, coaxing them further open. She anticipated the feel of those fingers on her core before it even happened - she was practically holding her breath in anticipation. At the first swipe of his fingers on her soaked cunt, dripping with their mixed fluids, it was like a zap of electricity that shot through her whole body. Despite him already just having made her come - a few times - every touch of his fingers felt brand new, like she was a virgin all over again, and he was going to he her first lover. Any other lover she'd ever had couldn't hold a candle to this man, and that was a fact. 

She nearly jolted off of the countertop and onto the floor when she felt his lips replace his fingers, and a gasp came from her throat that she couldn't control. One of his hands reached up to fondle a breast while the other held her thigh open so he could better reach his target. He wasn't kidding when he said he was insufferable. He was literally eating her out on top of her kitchen counter. The surface underneath her was going to be disgusting tomorrow morning, covered with a mixture of water, her fluids, his cum and saliva. That thought came and went quickly though, as it was hard to focus on anything other than the immense pleasure she was feeling. 

He sucked her clit into his mouth, hard, and her body jumped like she'd been zapped. She moaned loudly, the combination of his tongue and fingers and scruff of his beard making her so aroused. "Eddie..." 

He rose from his place between her legs, his hands remaining on her hips. He kissed up her body until he got to her lips, and she could taste herself on his tongue, mixed with his own semen. Their mingled fluids were steadily soaking the countertop she was sitting on; she could feel the slick mixture between her thighs and under them. He was vile, but she would have been lying if she said that wasn't attractive to her. From him, at least. She would have never let anyone else do this to her; never let anyone else do half of the things they had done to each other. 

Suddenly he pulled her up off of the counter, her backside sliding easily across the surface from the liquids pooling underneath her. She expected him to pick her up and carry her to the aforementioned bed. She was surprised again when he set her on her feet and turned her around so she was facing the counter and the cabinets, and she realized, at this moment, he wasn't quite done with her here yet. With one big hand on the middle of her back, he pushed her facedown onto the wet surface, her heavy breasts mushing into the puddle of sticky liquid. 

"Tell me you want it," came his lust shredded voice from above and behind her. 

Had she more will to withstand his power, maybe she would have held out further. He was too strong; too good. And he knew he could break her into pieces. Maybe he wouldn't have wanted a stronger woman. Maybe he thought she was perfect just the way she was. Why did that thought sound so right, so good? Especially since it couldn't have been true; Eddie Blake had hundreds of women chasing him at all times. How did he do this to her? Why did he have this effect on her? 

She gulped, but didn't say anything. The words were still caught in her throat, surprisingly enough. Even after all they had done so far, this was the part she was having trouble with. Because he was such a narcissist, he wanted her to tell him exactly how much she wanted him - as though he couldn't see her right here, naked and willing before him, dripping with water and sweat and various other juices. God damn him.

"Please, Eddie, cut the shit and just..." 

He rubbed the tip of his cock against her entrance, already hard again. She highly doubted he was ever soft. He felt so good just brushing against her slit; she thought she would die if he didn't push himself inside of her.

"Just what, baby?" 

She laid her forehead down on the cool surface she was bent over, and growled out, "Just fuck me, goddammit." 

His laughter came from the same place that his voice had, somewhere above and behind her, His big hands grabbed hold of her hips, lining himself up with her entrance. "With pleasure." And then he entered her with one big shove. Immediately he began a rough, fast pace, his hips smacking hard against her backside and making a wet slapping noise of skin on skin in quick succession. One hand stayed on her hip while the other reached up and grabbed the back of her neck to keep her chest down on the countertop. Her chest made wet squeaking noises on the damp surface as her body forcefully rocked with each hard thrust. He wasn't holding back now. 

"Is this what you like, bitch? Huh?" he ground out. This was the real Eddie Blake. Rough, not gentle or loving. A cold bastard. And god she loved it. All she could do was moan his name over and over and over. She felt herself getting closer with every earth shattering thrust. She knew her whole body would be sore tomorrow; knew there would be bruises everywhere. But she also knew it would be worth it. 

"Eddddiiiiieeee," Her voice was jumbled from the forceful pounding her backside was taking by his hips, brutal and uncaring. Justified by his own proclamation in his constant state of self-righteousness. He was owed something by the world, according to him. And this was just him simply taking what he was due. 

Her poor pussy ached, and she couldn't tell how many times she had come around his cock as he'd been pounding into her on her kitchen counter, but from the squelching noises where their bodies met and the rivulets of sticky liquid running down her legs, she knew it had been quite a few times.

"Who's fuckin' pussy is this?" 

"Y- Yours," She sounded drugged, her words slurred. 

"Who's?" The hand that had been on her hip smacked her ass cheek, hard. There would be a mark from that tomorrow, too. 

"Yours, Eddie, it's yours." She felt heat rising once again, and she moaned, her fingers gripping the edges of the countertop she was being rutted against. She was a tough woman, she thought - she shouldn't enjoy being degraded like this. 

"That's what I fuckin' thought." He said this with each hard thrust. That's. What I. Fuckin'. Thought. 

Without warning, her orgasm overtook her, as the main railing into her was practically yelling: "Say my name, baby!" 

"Eddie! Eddie!" she shrieked out, and he gave one last final shove into her with a shout as he came as well, his hot seed filling her womb once again. 

Michelle was completely exhausted. She could hear Eddie behind her sounding none too lively himself as the two of them each tried to catch their breath. After what must have been a few minutes but felt like mere seconds, she felt herself being lifted up off of the countertop. Her legs were so tired and sore she didn't know if she could stand, but somehow she did. Her knees wobbled as the man behind her took her hand and turned her around, then led her towards the bedroom - her bedroom. She was too tired to protest as he opened the door and walked the small expanse of the room until he got to her bed. Lazily, he flopped down onto her mattress, and she couldn't even muster an eyeroll at the self satisfied grin on his lips. Everything was almost a blur at the moment, she was so tired. He pulled her down onto the bed with him, got her pillows situated, got them both snuggled under the covers, and she could feel sleep pulling at her as she laid against his warm skin.

Tonight, she would pretend. But just for tonight, she told herself as she drifted off into slumber. 

"Damn, I missed you, doll." came his voice near her ear, also sleepy with satisfied lust.

She had missed him, too. 

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AN: I do not own the Watchmen franchise or any of it's characters. Michelle is my own OC. I also do not own the song 'Natural Born Sinner' by In This Moment. The above photos are from pinterest, and have links attached to the original posts.

[megggyeggy]

Masterlist

The Ghost Band

Series

Imagines

Terzo (Smut)

Secondo (Smut)

The Walking Dead

Series

Negan

Imagines

Negan

FNAF

Series

William Afton

Mike Schmidt

Marvel

Series

Imagines

DC

Series

Imagines

YOUTUBERS

Series

Imagines

Supernatural

Series

Imagines

The Boys

Series

Imagines

Game of Thrones

Series

Sandor Clegane (Non-con)

Imagines

[kaizenwaus]

five hundred sixteen days gone

The worn off denim did nothing to protect the woman's knees from the sand and small stones that made the gravel adorning the forest's ground, not even shifting her weight from one knee to another would ease the pain of her skin fighting not to break. Although all the stinging on her skin and burning on her muscles was nothing compared to the fear and uncertainty that surrounded the clearing.

Everything was... Perfectly set for this exact moment. Almost as if they had taken their time preparing this area for this. The woman could imagine the bald man with the thick mustache cutting down trees that morning, meanwhile the blond man with the burnt face cleaned everything off as well as he planned how to lure the group to this location. Then one of them had to tell the rest of their friends about the place and the time to meet up, and they had to decide the formation of all their vehicles and the armed men. If that had been the case, they did a good job. The scene was, in fact, quite... Intimidating.

The group of survivors, sinners of innocence and naivety, were on their knees, forming half a circle in front of the motorhome that Eugene had been driving just minutes ago. There were also a couple of cars and other vehicles on the sides, their headlights dazzling the survivors and their engines loud in contrast to the silence of the night.

Behind them stood the army of men and women that called themselves the Saviours, each of them holding a firearm if not two. In front of them there were only three men: the bald man with a distinctive mustache, the blond dude with a burnt face, and... The man. The boss. The leader. Negan himself.

He looked just like Sierra had imagined him: disgustingly smug. He wore dark pants, with a leather belt hanging way too low to be comfortable. It was a cold night, so he also wore a leather jacket with a red scarf around his neck. All of this paired up with leather boots and his weapon of choice: a baseball bat.

This bat, whose name was Lucille (as the man had introduced her), had barbed wire around the top of it, which seemed kind of useless against the undead but was incredibly painful for the living.

Eenie...

After introducing himself and the bat, the man explained the reason why they decided to meet up on this beautiful starry night. He paced from one end of the line of survivors to the other, swinging his bat around as he talked and talked and talked...

The survivors were sweating, the bravest ones looking around frantically to find a way to get out of this situation, but the man did not even let them finish a thought as he laughed loudly or got too close to someone with Lucille.

Meenie...

It was nauseating how free and careless he was, walking around as he sang this stupid little song for kids. Even though he was intimidating, Sierra truly questioned if the man was capable of killing one of them randomly. Deep down she thought this was just his little show, that his random pick was going to be a core member of the group: Rick, Daryl, Michonne, or even herself, she thought. There was also the possibility that Negan only wanted to weaken the leader by killing someone close to him: Carl or Michonne.

Would he really pick someone randomly?

Miney...

Sierra wanted to think a human would not be able to murder someone in cold blood, without a true motive. There was a motive, denying it would be straight up lying, but there were a fair amount of people in this line up that did not participate in said killing.

Questioning human behavior in the context of a literal zombie apocalypse was somewhat difficult if they were trying not to be hypocrites too, so maybe he was going to do as he said. Maybe, as he sang and as he pointed randomly at different survivors he was truly picking someone to kill. Maybe, for him this was just a game.

Mo...

The wielder of the named bat stood in front of Carl, causing everyone to cringe at the thought of the teenager becoming this psychopath's victim. But they were able to breathe again as the man continued his game – ironically, considering that if Carl was not the one tagged then the odds of being of them just rose.

Catch...

Rosita.

A tiger...

Rick.

By...

Eugene.

His toe...

Daryl.

My mother...

Michonne.

Told me...

Glenn.

To pick...

Aaron.

The very best one...

Maggie.

And you're...

Sierra. Negan left his bat staring at the blonde for a few more seconds than anybody else before her, he even bent down to stare right at her, taking in the hateful look the woman was giving him. Without breaking eye contact, the man smirked, winked at her and took blind aim with his bat as he sketched the last word of his song: it.

Abraham.

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything..." the man started speaking with a smirk on his face after he looked at who Lucille had chosen, slowly and almost teasingly walking away from the blonde woman to face his victim "Cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we'll start"

The bravery and strength with which Abraham presented himself to his soon-to-be murderer was highly admirable. The red-haired man refused to be submissive to the man's inflated ego, he could not forgive himself if his actions fed that man's grotesque and disgusting attitude. Much to Abraham's dismay, this façade only made Negan both flattered and challenged, making him want to prove what he could be able to do. To prove how much of a cold-blooded killer he could be. How much he truly did not care about their lives and only about what they could do for him.

"You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry..." the man chuckled, firmly gripping his beloved bat and lifting it up slowly "Hell, you're all gonna be doing that"

Abraham was standing straight, subtly giving his most recent lover the hand signal they had translated to "I love you" as she silently broke down before everyone. On the opposite side, his ex-girlfriend could not even watch the scene. Watching the man she had learnt to love standing tall on his knees, keeping eye contact with the monster that was about to end his life. Not everyone was able to watch, it was not only Rosita (his former partner) that looked away into the distance as tears streamed down her face. Others, who were not as close to Abraham as Sasha (his lover) was, also dared to watch as Negan cruelly attacked the man.

Gasps, sobs, cries... Those were the noises that took over the crickets as the bat was smashed against Abraham's skull. The echo of the hit was painful, you could almost hear the metal spikes digging into his skin, the blood gushing down his face, Abraham's incoherent mumbles as he tried to speak his last words: "Suck... My... Nuts"

Negan laughed at him before hitting him again, this time harder and leaving him on the ground. He even taunted him, repeating his last words as he looked to his followers to further enjoy his mockery of the victim. He hit him again, and again, and again, and again... He fully raged at the corpse, letting all his anger out on the innocent man's man until his red hair was too faded with the blood to point it out. In Negan's head, this was his revenge for all the Saviors Rick's group had murdered.

If the roles had been reversed, Sierra would not have considered this enough of a punishment. But her perspective of the situation could not let her think too much about it, at least rationally. Her mind was occupied by the little drops of blood that had fallen on Rosita's face, or how Sasha just had to witness the death of her lover very much like she had to a few years ago (without all the cruelty, surely).

The violence and helplessness surrounding the scene were too overwhelming for the woman to be able to have any other thoughts that did not involve wishing for Negan's death or planning how to murder him and his entire group. It was not only overwhelming for her, but also for everyone and everything around her. It was visible, palpable... So noticeable that not even the undead (or walkers, as Sierra had grown accustomed to call them) dared to approach the small clearing in the forest. Not even the walking dead dared to interrupt Negan's moment, his superiority and control over everyone else scarily good as well as incredibly infuriating.

Sierra's stomach was growling in disgust, her breath going faster, her heart pumping what felt like lava in her chest... She bit her tongue, pinched the skin on her wrists to keep herself from fighting back or talking back to him.

"You guys, look at my dirty girl!" the man yelled, showing off his bloody bat and swinging it around in the air – bits and pieces of Abraham's something flying off, until he just pointed the weapon at Rosita, who still could not dare to look at it "Sweetheart... Look at this"

Her eyes were fixated on the red tinted gravel, too shocked to even register tha taunting words of the man responsible for it. Negan enjoyed the state she was in, he watched her and smiled at how miserable she was and how powerful that made him, continuing his tormenting: "Oh, were you together? That sucks!"

Each word that left his mouth was one more log of wood thrown into the fire growing within Sierra. Her chest was growing tighter, her heart pumping faster and her skin getting hotter... Her whole body became a bomb, the clock showing how many seconds until it exploded being each and every word Negan directed towards her friend.

"But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this" he laughed.

Ten seconds. Ten more cruel words is all she needed...

"Red -- and hell, he was, is, and will ever be"

The blonde woman growled in an animalistic way as she jumped off the ground and lunged towards the man, grabbing him by his crimson scarf to hold him in place and punching his face with her other hand. She was fisting the scarf so hard that he did not even move one inch, his neck and jaw taking all the pain and movement. Before she could land another hit, two of his men grabbed her from behind and pulled her away from him, attempting to tackle her to the ground.

Attempting.

Sierra managed to avoid being immobilized by the two Saviours, pushing and punching them until one of them was knocked out by the motorhome and the other one was in a headlock.

She heard Rick calling her name as a warning, while Negan frowned at her in pure and raw anger. He huffed, and she watched. Everyone watched, holding their breaths, as Negan and Sierra stared at each other in a silent war.

"Let him go" a man behind her talked as she felt a crossbow she knew too damn well pressed against the back of her "Or this will be the last thing you do"

She looked briefly towards her found family, all of them scared of what was about to happen to either them or her. It was Carl that slightly nodded to her, letting her know that the best thing she could do right now is listen.

Very slowly, she let go of the man and raised her hands in the air. The man walked away from her, holding his neck in discomfort, meanwhile the man behind her kicked the back of her knee and grabbed her hair to make her look up at Negan.

"Who do you think you are?" he spat angrily at her, almost in a whisper.

"Your worst fucking nightmare" she smirked.

As soon as those words left her mouth, she was hit by the consequences of her own actions. Lucille collided against her cheek with almost superhuman strength, breaking her skin with the force of impact and the barbed wire dragging against her flesh. It was such a strong blow that Sierra fell to her side, barely managing to collect herself with her hands.

"That!" Negan spoke to the rest of the group while pointing at the injured woman with his bat "That is a no-no! That whole thing! Not one bit of that shit flies here!"

His words reverberated against her skull as her heartbeat moved to the bleeding wound on her face, her whole vision turning red and in her ears growing an uncomfortable ringing. Someone close to her, probably the man that threatened her with Daryl's crossbow, dragged his unconscious colleague away from the motorhome – thus leaving a clear path for Sierra to crawl under the vehicle and hide as Negan ranted.

"Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with... But I'm a man of my word. I already told you people, first one's free, then what'd I say? I said I would shut that shit down!"

Sierra was halfway under the motorhome when someone dragged her out by her ankle, exposing her torso and dragging her skin against the gravel. The man turned her around, making her face him as he pointed the crossbow to her head. She blindly tried to cover her face, her hands clumsy as her vision was deprived of focus and other colors beside red, still she was able to see the blond man with a burnt face speaking to her: "Where do you think you're going?"

"Please..." she whispered, struggling to speak as her mouth filled up with her own blood.

"You've got guts, lady" Negan looked down at her, before turning to the blond man "Dwight, load her up, I like her"

The man, now known as Dwight, grabbed the woman by her hair and dragged her towards a black van. She kicked her legs and yelled in pain, in way too much pain to try to put on a façade in front of the Saviors. In a desperate attempt to avoid being taken, she went to grab... Something. Her left hand flew to the floor, trying to grab some kind of anchor that would keep her from being abducted.

But it was the anchor that found her. Glenn's hand went over hers and gave her a reassurance squeeze, too fast to be noticed by anyone else besides them. She knew what it meant. She knew it was a silent promise, an oath to her that she would not be held against her will too long – and he was going to make sure of that.

Dwight threw her in the back of the van rather aggressively, making her whole body ache more (if that was even possible). She used the last bit of her strength to lunge towards him, but her fist was met by the van's doors being closed right in front of her.

"Feisty, just how I like them" she could hear Negan talking to her people, dwelling on his own gain and the group's loss of a great asset "She's mine now, so... Back to it!"

Sierra only managed to hear a loud thud, similar to the sound of Lucille crashing against Abraham's skull, accompanied by gasps and a woman crying out: "No!"

She hit the van's doors in frustration, hearing the suffering of her friends combined with her own physical pain becoming too much for her, until she eventually felt herself give up to the blood loss and overstimulation. Her knees got weaker and she could no longer hold herself up, her stomach growled as her chest heaved, her heart finally relaxing and her face going numb. She brought her hand up to her open wound, feeling the wetness and roughness of blood mixed with gravel against the tips of her fingers – perfect cocktail for an infection, she thought.

Her back was resting against the van's walls, feeling how they vibrated from the noises coming from outside. She tried to fight off the tiredness that overcame her, but her eyelids seemed to have grown independent from her brain's orders. Slowly all the tension left her body as she felt herself weighting more as she let go... Pain and life threatening anemia made her shut her body down to a comatose state, the last words she was able to register from outside echoing through the van's walls:

No exceptions.

[ophelia-jones]

Thorns pt 10

*(strong sexual content)*

On the way back to Sanctuary, in order to avoid Negan seeing her sorrow, Lacey pretended to sleep. She rested her head on the back of the seat and stretched out as much as the small cab would allow. She kept her eyes closed and didn't respond when Negan offered to let her lay her head in his lap. She wasn't sure if it was genuinely a kind gesture or just Negan being, well, Negan. 

She was, actually, exhausted, and after they arrived at Sanctuary, as Negan and his men unloaded the supplies they had gathered from Hilltop and the Ramblers, Lacey had a wash and a change of clothes, then as soon as she sat down to think, she cried herself to sleep. Perhaps she just hadn't deserved Daryl, but it still hurt.

To make matters worse, she drifted off to dream of a memory of the first time she realized she had feelings for him - beyond the sexual, which had happened almost immediately. She was, at her core always a sexual person. Perhaps because she had been made aware so young of her sexuality or perhaps it was because she'd had so little physical affection as a child and had craved it her entire life. 

This particular dream, however, was of a simple day in the forest, enjoying the peace and quiet. There were sounds, of course, of birds and crickets, the sound of the spring peepers in the pond. It was the most beautiful music to Lacey's ears. 

She was showing Daryl some of the wildflowers she needed to gather for tea - she had always preferred natures medicine to anything man made and knew what would treat almost any condition.

She was chewing on a clover blossom and she caught him smiling at her, though he glanced away when she looked back at him. Her heart had begun to race and she'd felt as if she might start to float away. It made her feel proud to be admired by the sort of man who was so careful who he gave his time and respect to.

"So, what was it like, up in Michigan?" He asked, and she was surprised again. Daryl was most definitely not one for small talk.  "I mean, all the things you learned about up there can't be exactly the same as we have down here, right?" He brought the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"No, but I know a bit about things down here, like kudzu. Oh, look here! Thats Yellow Wood-sorrel. Taste it." She picked the small yellow flower and held it up to Daryls mouth. He jerked his head back slightly at first to look at what she was trying to get him to eat. 

"That's edible, just like that?" He questioned, his eyes narrowing at her doubtfully. 

"Yes, I'm not trying to poison you." She laughed. "Open up." He still looked doubtful but leaned forward and took the flower from her fingers with his mouth. The feeling of his lips on her fingertips had sent a jolt of electricity straight through her and she had to bite her lip.

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded at her, his blue eyes surprised but approving. 

"It's kinda lemony." He said, his hair falling over his face as he looked around the forest floor for more. He picked a few and offered her one, placing it in her mouth as she had done for him. It was a small intimate act, and she knew it meant more than it might coming from anyone else. 

"Did your mom teach you all of this stuff?" Daryl asked, picking another wood-sorrel blossom to chew on.

"No, she was sick, even when I was born. I never really got to know her." She replied. "Even the name she gave me, my family never used." She said with a sad smile.

"She didn't name you Lacey?" Daryl asked, rooting around in the foliage with one foot, eyes down so she didn't feel pressured.

"No. She named me Solace. I don't think my dad or brothers even knew what that meant." She joked.

"Solace, huh?" Daryl said, wiping his dirty hands on his pant legs absent mindedly. "It suits you." He told her, and their eyes locked for one intense moment. Daryl looked away first but Lacey found herself blushing and speechless. 

He'd shown her that he was no novice to foraging himself. He could identify wild asparagus, wild potato vine and ramps. They'd gone back to Alexandria that night with bags full of useful findings.

In this dream, however, instead of finding her way home side by side with Daryl, she found herself alone. It was growing dark and she realized she was unarmed, and once again in the ruined lingerie she had been sent out to die in. 

"Daryl?" She cried out for him, but the only response was the moans of the walkers coming through the woods. Two, then four; soon there were too many to count and she was surrounded. As she struggled to find a way out, a weapon, something to help her; she realized she knew the people these walkers used to be. Her brothers. Friends from before and after the outbreak. And finally, as she turned to flee, she ran straight in to a solid wall of a man - or what had been a man. His mouth, now gaping rather than smiling and his blue eyes now unseeing were the same she had been admiring only moments ago.

As he bent to tear at the flesh of her cheek, she woke screaming out in horror, and she could feel the phantom pain in her cheek still.

The door to her room flew open, Negan appearing in the doorway with Lucille clutched in one hand, looking around for the source of Lacey's screams. He was freshly washed and dressed in a clean white t-shirt and blue jeans, his feet bare and his hair still damp. 

"What in the ever loving blue eyed world is going on?" He demanded, his chest heaving with the effort of slowing his breathing down to normal after being prepared for a fight. 

Lacey, too was breathing heavily, her mind struggling to convince her body that she was safe. 

"I'm sorry. I - I must've had a nightmare." She told him, running a hand through her hair.

"I can't imagine what kind of dream could have you screaming like that." He said, sitting on the corner of the bed.  "I mean, after seeing you in action today? You weren't scared of shit out there. I have to tell you, you were magnificent today."  He smiled his big, wolfish smile at her, his eyes absolutely twinkling. Lacey shook her head at him. "No, I mean it. You were like a God damned Terminator out there. You were Taking. Care. Of. Business!" He bellowed, his head back exaggeratedly.  

"And you," she said, "put a giant target on my back when you pulled that 'second in command' bullshit. Now even the people that didn't want me dead are starting to think about new and creative ways to kill me!" She said, turning and glaring up at him.  She stood and stretched, irritated at the memory of his 'surprise'. 

"You should be flattered, hell, I never even thought about putting a woman in my inner circle before, and you? You I would have leading by my side." Negan stepped in close, inches from Lacey now, looking down at her with that devilish smile and eyes that said he would swallow her whole if he could.

Lacey put her hands on his chest and pushed him away, hard enough to make him take a step backwards, but he came right back grinning. 

"OK, you gotta tell me if this is foreplay, because it is getting hot in here." He licked his lower lip and then bit his tongue as he continued to stand close enough that he was looking straight down at her. 

"Fuck you."

"That's the idea." He said, leaning down and putting his fingers under her chin to kiss her. Lacey slapped him and pushed him again, and he stumbled, laughing back against the wall. She stepped forward and pushed him again until his back was up against the wall. 

"You better mean it if you keep that shit up." He told her but he was still smiling, his brown eyes full of amusement. When she swung at him again, he caught her wrist. She tried to twist free and he caught the other, twisted them both behind her back and spun her until her face was against the wall. 

"Tell me you want me to stop." He whispered in a seductive purr against her ear as he grasped both wrists in one hand and reached up under her shirt with the other to squeeze her breasts, pinching one nipple hard enough to make her whimper.  He leaned down and began to kiss her neck in a spot he knew turned her on. He nipped at the sensitive skin with his teeth and then began to suck gently until she couldn't help but squirm as her knees grew weak and her will even weaker.

"Tell me to stop." He said again as his hand slid down her belly and under the waistline of her loose pajama pants. He let his hand hover over her panties but only touched her feather lightly, smiling against her neck as he felt her move her hips forward, trying to deepen the pressure.

"Tell me what you want." He told her more firmly, pressing his erection against her ass to show her how much he was enjoying this game.  "Do you want me to stop, Lacey?"

Lacey let out a noise of frustration but did not reply. She struggled to break free of his grip on her wrists.

"Do you want me to stop? Or …" he withdrew his hand from her pants and she heard the unbuckling of his belt. Her heart was already racing, yet somehow it began to pound even faster and the rush of heat between her legs had her nearly sweating. She hated that he could do this to her - but damn was he good at it. 

"Tell me what you want, sugar." He nipped her earlobe as he said it. 

"I want… fuck, Negan ok, I want you." He grinned, his nose and forehead  pressed against the side of her face.

"You want me to what?" He teased, and Lacey thrust her hips back, grinding against him. He moaned and chuckled, grinding right back for a moment before pulling his hips back. He slid his hands down her pants again, this time letting his fingers slip below the waistband of her panties. He pressed down hard on her clit with the pads of his first two fingers and made her jump at the pleasure it sent flooding her system. It was like stepping into a hot shower the way her skin flushed; every inch of her was aware of every inch of him.

"Tell. Me." He said one last time, and finally Lacey told him on a breathy whisper.

"I want you to fuck me, Negan. Please." She cried out in frustration when his hand withdrew again, and gasped when he led her by her wrists to the bed he turned her around, both of his arms around her and grasping her wrists still. 

"How do you want me to fuck you?" He asked heatedly, his eyes dark and intense as he looked into her eyes as if he could see everything she was feeling. 

"Hard. I want you to fuck me hard, Negan." She told him, her face lifted up asking to be kissed. He grinned down at her, a wide grin that showed all of his teeth. 

"If you insist." He replied, leaning down to claim her mouth with a bruising kiss. Finally, he released her wrists to slide both hands up in her hair and pull it painfully until he had her at just the angle he wanted her. His tongue was invading her mouth, smooth and firm against her own tongue, and his beard rough against the sensitive skin of her face. He leaned her over the bed until she had to sit, then lay back to keep from falling gracelessly. 

He lifted one of her legs and wrapped it around his waist, pressing deeply against her pussy with the length of his erection covered now only by his boxers as he lowered his jeans and kicked them off. She slid her hands up under his t-shirt over every inch of his slender torso and chest. When she pinched on of his nipples he moaned against her mouth. 

"What do you want, Lacey?" He asked again as he pulled away from her to slide his shirt off, and then tugged hers up over her head. He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her up to press their chests together, the feeling of his skin against hers making her close her eyes for a moment to just take in his heat. He slid her pants and panties off, and guided her hand down inside his boxers to feel the length of his cock, hard as steel and throbbing under her hand. She grasped him tightly and began to stroke. "Is this what you want?" 

"Yes…"

"What? I didn't catch that." He teased, and Lacey finally cried out in frustration, the need between her legs becoming nearly painful.

"I want your cock, Negan! Please I want you to fuck me hard enough to make me forget my own name!" She whined, loud enough that not only could Negan hear her clearly, but so would anyone in the hall.

"That's my girl." He praised, bending to catch a nipple between his teeth, then soothing his bite with his tongue tracing circles around the aching bud.

"Oh, please…" she moaned, beginning to pump her hand harder against his already impossibly hard member. He rocked his hips into her touch, his fingers spreading her and penetrating her with no sign of gentleness. She cried out again as he buried two fingers over and over again pushing in as fast and deep as possibly and making her spread her legs as wide as they would go and buck her hips against his hand. He withdrew his slippery digits and began to rub her clit roughly, almost brutally hard in deep, fast circles. 

"Oh God damn, oh fuck.." she bucked her hips and met the pressure of his hand with her hips. 

"Say my name." He growled in her ear as she came hard, her arousal dripping down his hand, making sloppy wet sounds as he entered her again and again with two fingers so he could feel the way her pussy spasmed and squeezed against them as she came. 

"Negan!" She sighed, her head thrashing from side to side, her hands grasping at the blankets. "Fuck thats so good!" 

He grinned at her, obviously proud of his performance already. As she gasped for breath, he slid his boxers off and turned her over on her side, laying down behind her. 

"You ready?" He asked in a whisper as he lifted one of her legs over his to open her to him, he ran the tip of his cock along her slippery opening. He hummed a note of pleasure at the feeling.

"Yes!" She whimpered desperately. He slid in, stretching her to her limits with no hesitation, burying himself to the hilt in one hard push. She cried out in pleasure again, pain and pleasure, that was Negan's specialty. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and and began to move his hips, grinding down as deep as he could, she could feel the pressure of him against her cervix. He held her in place as he withdrew to push in again, over and over, stroking the length of her smooth, wet walls as he began to grunt and moan with the effort of holding back his own impending climax. His hand released her hair and slid around to her throat wrapping around it firmly; her head was tilted back, one of his long fingers resting on the underside of her chin while the others began to squeeze gently. 

"Show me where you touch yourself when you think of me." He said in her ear and he felt the hot wet rush of excitement where they were joined. She did as he asked and placed the pads of her fingers against her clit and touched it lightly, flicking back and forth slightly before she ground her hips down against him and squeezed against his cock in wave after wave of pleasure.

"Shit, sugar you're fucking delicious, I can't … ohh… I can't get enough of you… his hips built up speed mercilessly until finally with a strangled cry he thrust one last time and she could feel the throbbing and the heat of wave after wave of his release. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder and struggled to catch his breath for a long moment before pulling out. He chuckled as he kissed her bare skin along her shoulder and hummed a note of satisfaction, his hand sliding down from her throat to cup her breasts.

"You. Are. Something!" He told her, his breath still coming in quick, short bursts, his chest pressing against her back as it swelled with great gasping breaths and then shrank again quickly. The friction of it was almost too much for her now over stimulated skin.

She closed her eyes and caught her breath. How could she keep falling under his spell? How could he be such a complex mix of pain and pleasure for her? He held her close against his chest in a possessive embrace.

"You are going to need fresh sheets." He said, his voice both amused and proud of himself. She giggled slightly, a bit giddy with hormones. She could feel her eyes grow heavy, so heavy she could barely keep them open, and so she gave in and was asleep again in minutes. She did not dream.

[redqueenphoenix]

OC Meet and Greet!

So I have noticed that my OC Victoria Hawkins has been well received with my fan fictions. So I thought I would give a peek into her life. She is my OC for The Walking Dead fandom.

Victoria's not an only child, she had two siblings. A younger sister named Erika and an older step brother named Draven. Sadly though her mother and step father died in the early days of the apocalypse.

Since the fall of humanity she has kept her iPod with her, charging it from generators or where she can. Here is a look into her mostly listened to playlist!

Victoria's iPod (TWD OC)

[naughtyneganjdm]

Leather and Latex

Summary: Every year Negan throws a Halloween party at The Sanctuary and this year he asks you to be his date. Endlessly, Negan has asked you to be one of his wives and you have turned him down. So for the Halloween party he tries to get you to dress as one of his wives, but you have something else in mind.

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59504641

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, rough sex, unprotected p in v, Halloween themed, no use of Y/N, female reader, little to no plot, leather, latex, Batman references, praising kink, spanking, edging, etc.

Notes: This is day 4 to go with this kinktober list. The prompts I chose were Leather or Latex and Sensory Deprivation.

You never really pictured Negan to be much of a fun guy. Or a good guy for that matter. But when Halloween came around, it was shocking how much The Saviors and Negan loved to throw a good Halloween party. For the most part, Negan did it for the children, which he’d never let people openly know. He had an image to uphold, but over the last few months you had really gotten to know a different side to Negan.

Tonight Negan had asked you to be his date for the party and you accepted. You couldn’t exactly turn down the leader of The Sanctuary. Even though, recently, you had turned him down many times before. Especially considering the situation at hand. For the last few weeks, Negan had been desperately trying to get you to be one of his wives, but you turned him down every time. It was driving him crazy and you kind of loved it. You reminded him time and time again that you didn’t want to be sitting in a room, wearing a black dress like some mindless drone waiting for him whenever he wanted you. No, you wanted to be making a difference. You wanted to be someone that people respected. And to be respected? You couldn’t be one of Negan’s wives.

So the only thing at this point you had really done with Negan was kiss. But you would quickly stop things and shut him down. Hell, you liked Negan, but you had to make a point with Negan. You weren’t just someone who was pathetic and needed him to take care of you.

Tonight, when he brought you your ‘costume’ it had only fueled you more. Negan was specific in what he wanted you to wear. And that costume was a black dress and a nice pair of shoes so that for one night, you could be one of his wives. You played along with it, but when the opportunity arrived for you to pull one over on him, you did. Many times you and Negan had talked about things you liked before the world fell to shit and Negan stressed that he was a big fan of Batman. So when you had gone on a run with the saviors and found a Halloween store that had an extensive Batman costume, you made a deal with Negan. You wouldn’t be upset if he put that on. Even though he originally wasn’t planning on wearing any costume.

So that’s where he was. In the bathroom attempting to put on the costume that you had asked of him. At first, he was uncomfortable with the idea since it had extensive amounts of latex and leather. And he didn’t know if he could fit into it.

Laid out on Negan’s bed, you hadn’t let him know that you were out to surprise him with something while he had been locked away inside his personal bathroom that was in his bedroom. The loud music from the party that was already going on downstairs filled the air and it made you smile.

“You know, this is fucking awesome, but I think I’m going to need some help with putting on all the pieces,” Negan’s voice began, stepping into his bedroom to reveal that he had the cowl on along with a long-sleeved black shirt and the full batman pants set up. At this point he only had on half the costume, but you really didn’t give a shit. Once his eyes fell on you, he came to a quick stop and gave his classic Negan lean. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

“Me?” you questioned, looking down at yourself. While Negan was away in the bathroom you had grabbed a pair of his pants, one of his crisp white t-shirts, his red scarf and his leather jacket that he had set aside to get changed. On your right hand you had snatched the leather glove that Negan often wore and put that on too. Swiftly you had changed out of the classic Negan wife get up and into this which had his hazel eyes gazing over you. ���Can’t you tell who I’m going to the party as? If you let me borrow Lucille, it would complete the set.”

“Where’d your dress go?” Negan looked around to see that the dress was laying on the floor at the foot of the bed. “Damn darlin’ you really wanna test the limits with me, don’t you?”

“No, I just really wanted to be Negan for Halloween,” you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, biting down on your bottom lip. Curling your fingers around the bed, you gave a simple shrug and looked up to Negan with a sense of innocence. Wiggling your finger at Negan had his jaw flexing and in the Batman cowl, it actually looked incredibly sexy. Stepping forward toward the bed, Negan stopped when he reached the area before you. Outstretching your hands, you hooked your fingers with his and heard him growl. “You know…I always had a fantasy about having sex with Batman.”

“I don’t have the full costume on,” Negan pointed out with your eyes gazing over the parts of the costume that he already had on. The top was clinging to his body showing every part of his slender torso and the pants already looked good on him. Taking your hand, you reached out to palm in over the front of the pants eliciting a loud grumble from Negan’s throat.

“Is that you or the costume?” you wondered, licking your lips and dropping your palm between his legs to cup his testicles firmly. Wincing out, Negan tipped his head back and the prominent vein was visible at the side of his neck.

“That’s all me,” Negan responded, sucking in a sharp breath of air. “What about the Halloween party?”

“I think we can have our own party in here,” you suggested, standing up from the bed before Negan. Sliding your palms up over the lengths of his torso, you curled your fingers around his shoulders to get him to lower down closer to you. “Unless of course, you don’t want to have sex…”

“Lucky for you I always had a fantasy of fucking myself,” Negan mused with an arrogant bob of his head. It was such a ridiculous line and the way he delivered it was so cheesy that you couldn’t help yourself with laughing. Grasping your hips firmly in his hands, Negan snickered and drew his tongue out over his bottom lip. “This was a bold decision.”

“I’d like to think of it as smart,” you reasoned with him, tipping up on your toes to press kisses over his jawline. Groaning out, Negan tipped his head back and allowed you to pepper his throat with wet, teasing kisses. “I’m Negan already, so why shouldn’t I look the part?”

“No one gets to wear that leather jacket, I hope you know that,” Negan was letting you know that you were somehow special in the way that he wasn’t angry with you for wearing it. “I will worn you though, this was a bitch to get on, which means it’s going to be a pain in the ass to get off.”

“Well good thing I’m determined and have patience,” you slurred, purring out when Negan’s palms slid in over your sides toward your bottom to give it a firm squeeze. “I’m still not going to be your wife. I need you to know that.”

“No, this is purely Batman and Negan having sex,” Negan snorted and it drew attention to his eyes. Negan had already put the black makeup around his eyes to fit with the cowl and you couldn’t help but smile in how serious he took this whole thing. It really brought out the color of his beautiful hazel eyes and you were actually kind of glad you did this.

Tipping up on your toes, you brought your lips together in a hungry sweep that had Negan clinging firmly to you, pulling him flush against you. With every caress of his lips, you felt your heartbeat growing stronger.

“Fuck me,” Negan grunted, dropping his head down to look between the two of you. “My dick is only just starting to get hard and these pants are killing me.”

“We’re going to have to get them off you then,” you worked with the belt realizing what he meant with it being so many pieces. It took a lot to get them undone and you had to use a lot of strength to tug at the material when you dropped to the edge of the bottom of the bed. Getting the material down to his thighs made you smile when you saw his semi-erect length before your eyes. Caressing your hands up over his thighs and toward his hips had him sucking in sharply. God, his incredible v-line looked twice as amazing in what he was wearing. “Look at the weapon you were hiding on you this whole time Batman…”

“Weapon?” Negan repeated with an amused rumble, humming out when your fingers curled around his shaft. With gentle strokes over his body, it had him growing harder within your grasps. “I like that. It’s both a weapon of mass pleasure and destruction. Because tonight, I’m gonna absolutely destroy your pussy.”

“Now that better be a promise,” you purred, reaching around to grab his small ass in order to tug him forward. A wicked smirk tugged at Negan’s arrogant features when you let the tip of his cock drag over your full lips. Extending your tongue out ever so slightly against the ridges had him breathing loudly. “I’d hate to be let down by my favorite superhero.”

“Oh, that would be a catastrophe,” Negan agreed, his head nodding slowly and his gloved hands hooking around you to grab firmly at the back of your head. Wetting your lips, you pressed teasing kisses over the head of Negan’s cock that turned to gentle flicks of your tongue over the swollen tip. You didn’t want to jump right into this. No, you wanted to make him suffer with continuous wet, hot kisses at the tip that would grow more in strength. So that way by the time you finally did take him into your mouth, his legs were uneasy with his breathing broken. Watching Negan was the key to all of this with you lapping at the underside of his cock and then taking him further back toward your throat. “Y’know, I’ve never missed a Halloween party.”

“There is a first for everything,” you pulled your mouth away with a wet sound, your lips glimmering as you pressed them up to the tip. Extending your tongue out had Negan growling out. “If you’d rather be at the party.”

“Shut up and suck my dick,” Negan scoffed getting you to chuckle against his flesh. It had him tremoring and stepping in closer to you. His free hand wrapped around the base of his erection bringing his cock to your lips. Sinking it between your lips, Negan started to rock his hips back and unhurriedly forward toward your throat. Grasping at his hips, you allowed him this. You knew how bad he wanted this whole thing so you were going to give it to him. It was a mix of him letting you pleasure him and him fucking your throat. When he thought you’d need to catch a breath, he’d loosen up before urging you down his cock firmly. “Good girl.”

After a few firm thrusts to the back of your throat with a gagging sound following, Negan pulled his hips back and away from you. It had a line of spit connecting your lips and his cock. An amused sound escaped him when he pushed into your shoulders to get you to lay back.

“I’ve never given head before with something like this on my head, but let’s give it a shot,” Negan pulled at the pants you were wearing and it didn’t take much to get them from your body. Tearing at your panties had you gasping out, but Negan didn’t take his time. Dropping to his knees, his hands forcefully pushed your thighs apart and it was pretty immediate that you had his head between your legs. A rough, forceful kiss was pressed against your folds causing you to arch your back up toward him. Humming out, Negan dragged his tongue out between your folds teasing at your sensitive body. Slurping faintly at your clitoris had your fingers reaching down in search of his hair, but you realized that he was still wearing the cowl and it made you laugh. “What?”

“This is just new for me Batman,” you liked the smile that he gave you with his head tipped back. This was both incredibly sexy and ridiculous at the same time, but you weren’t going to complain. Dropping his head back down, Negan was very dominant in the way that he ate you out. It was no time before you were a shuddering mess beneath him clinging at whatever you could grab. You may have preferred to see Negan’s face and not so much his Batman mask, but you were making it work. “Negan…”

With your moans, Negan kept up the pace of his mouth and tongue working to bring you right to the edge of your orgasm. Bouncing your hips toward him, you were in desperate need of the orgasm that he was working up inside of you. It had been so long and he was surprisingly doing such a good job even with that cowl on.

Negan’s fingers hooked with yours right when you were about to come and you threw your head back into the pillows. It had an amused rumble falling from Negan’s throat when he sat down at the bottom of the bed. Your thighs were tremoring, your eyes slammed close leaving you with the sensation of spinning. Even though you were trying to catch your breath, Negan was ready to keep going.

In a haste, he pulled you in over him. Together the both of you shakily worked to pull the tight material of the long sleeve that he was wearing up his body to toss it to the floor. Crawling further in over his lap, you curled your fingers around his neck and it felt strange with the way the cowl felt against your fingertips.

“Wait,” Negan demanded, reaching for the red scarf that you had put on. Lifting it, he wrapped the material around your eyes and it had you releasing a shuddering sound. By his low rumble of a laugh, you could tell that he was amused. By taking your sight away, you couldn’t see a thing and he knew that. Maybe just simple shapes, but that was it. Gasping out, you tried to keep yourself balanced by holding onto his shoulders when he firmly tugged the white shirt up over your breasts and yanked down the cup of your bra. Negan’s mouth was quick to cover your breast, his tongue circling the nipple eagerly. “So fucking perfect.”

Whimpering out, you felt the length of Negan teasing at your entrance and you bucked up against him wanting to have him enter you, but he wasn’t giving you the satisfaction of that yet. Instead he continued to pamper your breasts with kisses until he hooked your arms behind your back in one of his hands.

“You are my prisoner after all,” Negan nipped at your neck, having you cooing out at the sensation. You could feel the leather of Negan’s jacket hot against your exposed flesh with Negan firmly rolling you over onto your stomach. Pulling your hips to the bottom of the bed, Negan roughly pushed into your lower back before kicking your legs apart. The warmth of Negan covered you with him wrenching your arms behind your back. “You are a naughty girl.”

“I’m so naughty,” you purred out with Negan’s cock hovering over your bottom. A soft tapping was felt against your cheeks before Negan led his cock to your entrance. In a swift, fluid movement Negan filled you completely having you throw your head back. A loud cry fell from your lips when he pulled his hips back and then firmly smacked forward. The movement was so strong that it had you bouncing forward up the bed. “Fuck!”

“I did say I’d deliver on a promise of destroying your pussy,” Negan growled in your ear and with your sight taken away from you, you felt everything in so much more detail. Every powerful thrust had you moaning out, your cries not being held back with Negan pounding into you with reckless abandon. Loud smacking sounds of your flesh filled the air and he wasn’t letting up on the grasp of your arms behind your back. “Such a tight pussy. It feels like it was made for only me. Who does it belong to?”

“It’s yours,” you whimpered, biting down on your bottom lip with every powerful forward thrust he made inside of you. It was hard to form words with your face buried against the bed and your eyes covered. What Negan was doing to you was both incredible and mind blowing. It wasn’t romantic, but that was never really something you pictured Negan being.

“I asked you who it belongs to,” Negan finally released one of your arms, giving your ass a firm smack. Whimpering out, you clung tightly to the comforter on Negan’s bed.

“Negan,” you were quick to answer wincing when he dropped your other arm. Both his hands were squeezing at your ass while he led you back over him repeatedly. Plunge after plunge of his body was rough, powerful and had you attempting to crawl upwards, but he would pull your hips back to him.

“I know this big cock has to be new for you sweetheart, but you’re going to take it like a champ,” Negan assured you, his right hand reaching out to press between your shoulder blades to keep you in place. Leaning over you, his weight braced against his arms that were beside you. Hooking his left hand with yours, Negan squeezed his fingers tightly with yours when he started rolling his hips forward, his lower abdomen smacking against your bottom. “Good girl.”

There was some racket downstairs from the party, but you were so lost in this that you didn’t care. There was a heat growing in your belly with every deep thrust Negan left you with. Negan’s mouth was covering your shoulder, neck and jawline with hot kisses.

“You feel so fucking good,” Negan growled in your ear, drawing chills throughout you. Turning your head just enough had you begging for his lips to cover yours. Giving you what you wanted, Negan stole a kiss from your lips that had you desperate to kiss him back. “Are you going to come?”

“Yes,” you panted, your body bouncing back into Negan’s thrusts. He had you trapped beneath him, but you liked the way it felt with him surrounding you. The smacks of his testicles against your clit felt amazing with him plowing into you. Grunting against the side of your neck, Negan bit at your jawline and hissed when your body started to tense up. Feeling your body contracting around his, Negan’s hips seemed to falter leaving you with a cry. “Please. Negan!”

“Not yet,” Negan snickered, pushing up and away from your body. The drag of his cock from your warmth was agonizing with him leaving your body. He seemed amused with your whining as he flipped you over onto your back. Crawling in over you, he urged your right leg to curl around his waist and you frowned. “You’ve teased me this whole time and you can’t wait a few extra minutes to come?”

“It hurts,” you frowned getting a deep rumble of a laugh to fall from him.

“And now you know how it feels when you’ve sent me packing with the blue balls every time you made out with me,” Negan breathed against your lips, amused when your hips arched up toward him begging him to enter you again. “You’re a greedy little thing.”

“I thought Batman was supposed to be the good guy,” you reminded him with Negan snickering against the side of your neck. “You’re going to leave a lady aching and in pain?”

“Batman isn’t liked by everyone you know,” Negan reached between the two of you, his lips hovering over yours. Leading himself back into you with ease had the both of you moaning in unison. At first, the roll of his hips was slow. It was almost torture with the slow pull back and the unhurried push forward. It was having him fill you completely and then almost leave your body before smacking forward again. Your arms hooked around his shoulders, you fingers digging into his flesh. “Give me what I want and I’ll let you come.”

You didn’t respond. He wanted you to be his wife, but there was no fucking way. Your silence didn’t bode well for him with his thrusts becoming more forceful having you bounce upward with every movement, “It’s not that hard to just give me what I want.”

“I won’t be one of them,” you denied him, your nails biting into his skin with how hard Negan started to fuck you. It had your back arching with you crying out his name again and again. You were thankful that the music was loud downstairs or otherwise you would have drawn the attention of someone in The Sanctuary. It was so fucking good, but just like before right when he got you to the edge, he stopped leaving your heart hammering in your chest. “Goddamn it Negan.”

“Only good girls get to come and you’re being very bad,” Negan slurred, his mouth covering your exposed breast. Nipping at the taut bud had you purring out, your fingers sliding up toward the back of his head where that fucking mask still was on him. And then he started moving again. Sharp, torturously slow movements that had you gasping with the sensation. “You wanna come? Give me what I want.”

“I’d be miserable,” you whined, your throat tensing up with Negan kissing up over your chest toward your neck to bite at the side of it. That would certainly leave a mark. “I want to be beside you, not waiting for you to return.”

“Goddamn,” Negan snarled, pulling away from you again, but this time he was tugging the blindfold down to get you to look at him. Trying to get the cowl from his head, you helped him when he hissed out and managed to get it off. Tossing it aside made you smile. He was soaked, his messy hair clinging to his head with him rolling you over so that you were on top of him. “If you don’t want to give me what I want then make yourself come.”

You weren’t going to fight that one with you bracing your hands over the center of his chest. Negan’s palms cupped at your breasts while you started to bounce yourself eagerly over his hips. You wanted to feel all of him and you were so desperate for that release. Winces were falling from Negan’s throat, his hazel eyes narrowing while you had your way with him.

Breathy pants were falling from your parted lips. Negan’s hips were meeting yours with every downward thrust you made over him. Your motions went from careful to forceful with Negan grasping to your hips to help you rock over him in swift movements. Your face was hot, your heart hammering when you threw your head back finally reaching that orgasm that Negan had held off from you for so long.

“Don’t stop,” Negan hissed, pushing up so that he could kiss over the side of your neck, forcing you to continue to move your hips over his even though you were already weak from how hard that prolonged orgasm took to get. Grasping at his wet, dark hair you knew he was looking for that same kind of euphoric feeling you allowed yourself to have. Short, pronounced winces were pressing against your throat. A few more powerful thrusts beneath you had you clutching to Negan when his cock twitched inside of you filling you with the first line of his cum. Bouncing up toward you, Negan clung tightly to you until the end of his orgasm, his breath warm against your lower neck. His arms were holding tightly to you and you were clinging to him. “I don’t know why you don’t want to be mine.”

“Because I can be yours without having to be your wife,” you hushed him, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip. Nipping at the pad of your thumb, Negan’s hazel eyes hooked with yours and it made you smile that he still had the Batman make up around his eyes. “I’ve been yours this whole time Negan. You’ve just been too blind to see it.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976​ @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @pixelb4rbie @ibelongtonegan

@smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan

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@promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @peachihellcat

[indigoraysoflight]

How Carol Peletier Broke Misogynistic Stereotypes

"Melissa McBride holds the mantle of Carol, establishing one of the most memorable characters that The Walking Dead couldn't dream of getting rid of."

Carol is undoubtedly one of the strongest female characters on TV. She subverts expectations from the get-go and then continues to break the stereotype of a “typical middle-aged woman” you might see on TV shows or movies. 

So when I first bumped into this article talking about Carol's age, I was hesitant to read it just by glancing at the title. But I’m glad I gave it a chance because the point this article makes is – Carol’s age doesn’t matter.

So why is the discourse around Carol still revolving around age? Why aren’t we discussing Daryl’s age – or Rick’s, or even Negan’s? Why is age so deeply embedded in the conversation where a middle-aged woman is concerned? 

Because AMC has done nothing to discourage it. 

For years, Melissa has dealt with ageist and hateful comments by people who saw her character as “too old” for Norman’s Daryl. This only worsened with ongoing shipping wars often stoked by AMC to generate buzz. The original Caryl spinoff would’ve been the perfect antidote to all that ageist rhetoric, but we know what happened with that. 

Carol’s story is that of defying misogynistic societal standards and rising from the ashes to become an invincible force in the middle of an apocalypse. Melissa McBride amplifies that by carving out a character with her raw vulnerability and unyielding strength. She is the character that brings an audience that will stick by her and follow her to the ends of the earth. 

My hope now is that AMC takes a stance and shows how important Carol and her story is to them. Validating Caryl’s relationship is an excellent step in firming up that stance – instead of hiding behind the coattails of ambiguity. Silver fox Daryl would be another great way of stifling the ageist noise. Just sayin’. (I’m soo on board to see Norman with grey hair.) 

Carol and Daryl bring forth a dynamic that explores the idea of “finding love after 40”. It normalizes having a vibrant, fulfilling life in your middle ages. It shows two people finding each other in a world where noone can be trusted. AMC has a chemistry goldmine sitting on their hands. The question is: will they finally leverage it this time and garner the support of the fans that would follow these two characters to the ends of the earth? 

We won't find out until Season 2 – and that's a long way away. Until then, it’s nice to see a strong voice talking about the value Carol brings to The Walking Dead.

Check out the full article here.

[twins-write]

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[queenbeerps]

hey, hi, hello! i haven't been on this blog in a century, but the writing bug has bitten me. SO, this is me reaching out for some 1x1 partners. i write on discord or here on tumblr. i greatly prefer doubles and mumus and i write m/f and f/f ships. i prefer one to two solid paragraphs for reply length, as well. right now, i'm craving both original plots and some specific fandoms (mostly oc x cc!) : the walking dead, stardew valley, stranger things, glee, and dead by daylight. but i could be persuaded into some modern disney stuff. anyway, i'm putting a bunch of details for what i'm looking for specifically under the cut! so go ahead and like this and i'll reach out or feel free to message me. thanks! ʚ♡ɞ

below i have listed some specific cravings i'm having at the moment. i am happy to double and give you whoever you'd like in return! i have bolded the role i'd like to play. if there are no bolds, i'll play either.

FANDOM WANTS --

♡ THE WALKING DEAD ;

female oc x negan. (BIG HUGE WANT.) female oc x siddiq. female oc x rick. female oc x shane.

♡ STARDEW VALLEY ;

female farmer oc x sam. female farmer oc x sebastian. female farmer oc x alex. female farmer oc x leah.

♡ STRANGER THINGS ;

female oc x billy. female oc x steve. female oc x hopper. chrissy x eddie.

♡ GLEE ;

female oc x sam. female oc x finn. quinn x puck. quinn x finn. mercedes x sam.

♡ DEAD BY DAYLIGHT ;

meg x nea. kate x dwight. sable x mikaela.

ORIGINAL CHARACTER WANTS --

♡ PLOTS ;

crime plots of all types. a plot based on the movie 'sweet home alabama'. plots based on taylor swift songs. big city mumu. apocalypse mumu. anything with a good mix of fluff and angst! (legal) age gap plots.

♡ WANTED OPPOSITES ;

jeffrey dean morgan, dacre montgomery, joe keery, michael b jordan, george mackay, andrew lincoln, m shadows, john boyega, theo james, jon bernthal, bill skarsgard, zacky vengeance, henry cavill, gregg sulkin, avi nash, jack quaid, adam driver.

[notalkingbusiness]

Have you considered that the reason LC & DG are equally billed is because they start from stronger negotiating positions? Both have already left; LC because she wasn’t paid enough & DG because she could & did pursue other things. The latter leaving after Andrew Lincoln is also reported to be one of the main catalysts of the original show being wrapped up & broken down into spin offs.

Melissa, on the other hand, feels like someone who doesn’t care too much about billing. She wasn’t even billed until season 4 in the original show. Add to that the fact the show is named after Daryl, and the Carol is a subtitle, I’m not sure it makes sense for equal billing. There’s maybe something to be said about Norman, Zabel & Nicotero agreeing to go ahead without her while Andrew Lincoln & Scott Gimple waited until DG was free. Yes, Carol is important. Yes, Melissa is a great actor but the show’s had a strong first season before/without her. The other spin offs both start with all their leads in place.

Maybe equal billing will come for Caryl in s3 when they hit their stride/they bring in the ratings.

No, I don't think that's the case at all, anon.

I can't speak for the individual negotiating positions of all the leading ladies, but I'd be curious to know how Lauren Cohan was in a stronger negotiating position after she walked away from TWD? She returned to TWD after Whiskey Cavalier was not renewed for a second season. To me, that looks more like pragmatism than a straightforward triumphant return.

I'm not sure where you're getting your information from about Danai Gurira either? Fans had to wait years for TOWL because Gimple couldn't get his Rick movies off the ground. The films were announced in 2018 and never materialized. That's the reason for the delay. Gimple didn't do anything out of the goodness of his heart or because he's #Best Ally #All About "Strong Female Characters" #Not Like Other Showrunners.

The original Caryl spinoff was supposed to run alongside the main show, presumably with Maggie and Negan leading the TWD in Caryl's absence. As mentioned in the article below, "talk of the offshoot actually pre-dated news of the mothership winding down. 'There's been talk for a long time about a Darryl [smh, Dalton] /Carol spin-off,' says Kang. 'And so that was something that we were working on well in advance of the news about the ending of the series.'"

Billing matters. It matters to everyone involved in a production because it's one of those things which impacts the overall hierarchy. Billing is directly linked to pay, professional recognition, and seniority. TBOC's unequal billing and unequal title set the stage for an unequal show. Not only in terms of uneven storytelling, but in terms of whose EP notes are taken with more consideration etc.

Melissa should've been properly billed before Season 4, but we can't do anything about a billing from over 10 years ago. Personally, I think comparing TBOC's billing to the billings in 2013-14 is redundant because we're not comparing like with like. The most pertinent and relevant points of comparison are TBOC's sister shows - TOWL and DC. These shows are all being made by the same company concurrently and they all fall under the same brand. Both of the leading ladies are equally billed in TOWL and DC and rightly so! Plus, neither of them were reduced to a subtitle. The discrepancies with TBOC trouble me. Why have AMC opted for a clunky and uneven title? Why have they broken protocol when it comes to billing their female lead? Why are they so bad at this?

There's a reason why the other spinoffs started with their female leads in place - none of the other shows were needlessly yeeted across the Atlantic at the last minute. Honestly, I'm not sure if any of the shows are doing well. Not really. It's not a good sign when the uninitiated are surprised that TWD is still going. It's not a good sign when everyone laughs at the idea of Daryl randomly ending up in France. DD had the added problem of splitting a previously loyal demographic and creating a lot of negative energy when some of the dudes attempted to justify extremely questionable decisions.

Can they turn things around? I hope so. But I can't put my hope and trust in Zabel, Nicotero, and Gimple. These men have proved time and time again that they just don't get it. I'll believe that brighter days are ahead when Melissa is equally billed. Melissa is Norman's equal in every way and she should be equally billed when the show airs in September. No ifs, no buts.

I'll believe that brighter days are ahead when TBOC can make me feel something other than disappointment.

Anyway, as you can probably tell, I am very frustrated with TBOC atm 🫠 To be clear, all of that frustration is directed at TPTB rather than you, anon. We all deserve so much better than this.

[reallygreatblogname222]

If there were to be someone else in the bedroom (not necessarily a direct participant, but there by choice) while Negan and Carl are going at it, who would you want it to be?

The character can be male, female, ideas for an original character, whatever. Leave a comment or an Ask if you have any ideas (because I sure don't).

[hunterssm00n]

Natural Born Sinner

The Comedian has addictions too, and they include more than just cigars and violence. | Eddie Blake/OC |

part 1 of 3

also on ao3: here

*cw include dubcon smut, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, degradation, stalking, emotional/psychological abuse, misogyny, name-calling, breaking and entering, past abuse, dark themes*

౨ৎ

hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

He lifted up Himself and said unto them "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her."

The day had crawled by, and the commute home had crawled even more. All she wanted after a long work week was to be holed up in her apartment with a book, something hot to drink and a warm bubble bath. Maybe that's what she would do tonight - she thought of this as she exited the bus at the stop on the corner. She waved at the driver as she walked down the stairs through the open doors, and he'd crooned at her to have a nice weekend, Michelle.

It was still raining, like it had been the whole day - lately, that seemed to be the only thing Mother Nature wanted to do. Maybe she was sad, Michelle pondered as she crossed the first of three blocks that would lead to her apartment. She didn't have her umbrella with her - it sat idly next to her swivel chair in her cubicle at work, probably still damp from this morning. That was okay though, she didn't mind the rain. And it wasn't like she'd be seeing anyone else tonight anyways. This rain would no doubt frizz her hair in some ungodly way. If it wasn't so damn cold outside - mid October in the city was not at all it was cracked up to be - she probably would have even considered jumping in the puddles. But she didn't. She probably would've ruined her heels, which would've been a big upset.

As she neared her apartment complex entrance, she reached into her pocket to fish around for her front door key. Tiptoeing up the steps to the door in her black high heels, she noted that the lock had been broken. Hmm, no use for the key then. Swinging her long black hair over one shoulder, she simply pushed the door open and stepped inside, attempting to close it behind her to the best of her ability. This was not uncommon - happened all the time. She thought nothing of it as she unzipped her coat, shaking it off during her trek up the stairs to her tiny apartment. Rounding the corner to the right, she did, however, think it was odd that her door was open.

This meant one of two things. Someone was robbing her place, or he was there.

"Shit," she stated. Her unladylike mouth tended to get her in trouble more often than not, but she knew that if he was actually in her apartment then he would be very amused by it. Slowly, she crossed the short span of floor to her front door. She noted that the lock was not broken, the door was merely propped open. Even slower, she reached out and pushed the door open, waiting to see what awaited her inside of her apartment.

Nothing.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Her apartment was the same as it always was; a little messy, smelled a bit like the candle she'd accidentally left burning all last night. No lights on, so she couldn't be sure someone wasn't hiding in the shadows. However, she was sure that he wasn't there, because if he was, he wouldn't be hiding from her. He'd probably be sitting right in her favorite chair in front of the TV, smoking a cigar, one ankle propped up on his knee as he waited for her to come home.

In fact, the only difference she noted was the faint trace of that cigar smoke in the air. The further she walked in, turning on lights as she went, the more she could smell it. She glanced back at the door warily, eyes roving for anything that could have been out of the ordinary. Had he been here? She didn't smoke, so it wasn't a normal smell that was prevalent in her space... Unless he showed up, of course. Then the smell overtook everything. However, no one was there, she concluded. She'd gone through every room, turned on every light, and there was no other trace of anyone having been there. If he had been here, he was gone now. 

Michelle allowed herself to relax for the first time since she got home, sure that she was alone in here. She went over to her front door and made sure it was locked - maybe she'd not locked it properly when she left for work in the morning. Doubt clouded her mind at that thought - she always made sure the door was locked completely when she left her place. Don't worry, there's no one here. She let that thought settle in her mind, trying to let it comfort her. Maybe she was just imagining the smell in the air as well; maybe the thought of him was playing tricks on her like a ghost.

After unloading herself - taking her coat off and hanging her purse up on the coat rack, toeing her shoes off - she immediately went into the bathroom to start drawing herself a bath. That was her goal for this evening: absolute relaxation.

Once the water had run warm and filled up the tub, she added a lavender smelling liquid soap to it and stripped off her clothes, eager to jump into the nice smelling concoction. She pinned up her long hair, thinking how sad it was that she was excited to sit here and soak for the remainder of the evening. But, she needed to majorly de-stress, and this was the best way to do it.

She stepped into the soapy water, sinking down into it with a sigh. Leaning her head back against the porcelain edge of the tub, she closed her eyes for the first time all day.

Not even a minute had passed when she heard a noise from outside her front door. Footsteps, heavy ones. She opened one eye, listening hard. It was probably someone passing by to get to another apartment. From her bathroom she had a direct view to the entrance to her apartment. Since she lived alone, she never bothered closing the bathroom door. She noted a shadow underneath the door from the hallway that wasn't moving - somebody was definitely outside her door, hovering there.

Michelle had seen enough movies to know that she was no way in hell going to call out. That was a sure-fire way to get murdered. She waited in the tub to see if they would leave. The shadow shifted once, followed by a metal clanking noise. It took her a moment to realize that whomever it was was attempting to pick the lock. Now the panic started to set in. Did they know someone was in here? Did they care?

She thought of the smell of the cigar smoke from earlier. Was he outside the door right now, picking the lock? She rose up from out of the water, the soapy suds dribbling down her naked body. She reached for the towel hanging on the rack bolted to the wall next to the tub, wrapping it around herself while stepping out of the water. The clanking from the front door continued, and she quickly cut through the door that led to the bathroom, heading for the kitchen. Her thought was on the giant breadknife that lay dormant in her kitchen cabinet - if she could get to that at least she'd have something.

Halfway there, her door swung open, and instead of freezing in her tracks she took off in a run towards the dark kitchen to her left. She heard the door slam and footsteps thunder towards her just as she slipped into the kitchen. Quick as lightning, she yanked the drawer open and grabbed the massive breadknife, whipping around to point it towards her assailant just as they were about to grab her.

Much to her (non) surprise, he stood behind her. The Comedian himself, Edward Blake. He gave a huff of amusement at the sight of her holding the knife, pointed right at him. "Baby, if I knew this was gonna be the welcoming committee, I woulda come a helluva lot sooner," He winked at her with one of his grins that could put city lights to shame. His problem was that he was handsome, and he knew it. Many a woman had fallen for that smile, those eyes that could stare right through you; he was the very definition of tall, dark and handsome. The devil in disguise. Many a woman, including her.

The difference here was that while she'd fallen for that charm, she wasn't stupid enough to believe him and put up with his shit. She knew the kind of man he was, which was why she tried to avoid him at all costs.

It was a lot harder to avoid him, though, when he did things like this - this wasn't the first time he'd broken into her apartment, unannounced. It just had been a while; a few months. The last time she'd seen him was about three weeks ago (not that long), and it hadn't been in her apartment. Then, he'd visited her at work... after hours, and hadn't let her leave until he'd gotten what he'd wanted.

Still standing with a tense posture, she did lower the knife, but didn't put it down on the counter, "Eddie, you're not supposed to be here."

"Says who?" He eyed her up and down, noting how she was still dripping wet from leaping out of her warm bath at the speed of light. There was a puddle pooling on the cracked kitchen floor by her feet - the rapidly cooling water was now touching her toes as the slope of the floor caused the liquid to roll towards her bare feet.

She could not deny, though she knew how wrong this was, that she felt a twinge of excitement upon seeing him. And she knew how wrong it was, completely and wholly. She always wished Eddie was a better man - if he had been, she could honestly say she would have had no problem with this. Hell, she probably would've gotten down on one knee and proposed to him.

"Says me," Now she did put the knife down on the counter behind her, crossing her arms at him, "I told you not to come here."

"Yeah," he sighed, taking his heavy swaggering steps towards her, one hand reaching up to stroke the scruff on his chin, "But we both know you didn't mean it."

She made herself stand her ground as he came near - it took all of her strength to keep her feet planted on the ground. "I did mean it, and I mean it right now when I say: Get out." He stopped uncomfortably close to her - she could feel the heat radiating off of his large body, smell the musk coming from him as he towered over her. There was tension in the air as he looked down at her, pondering her statement with a smirk. His eyes were dark and smoldering beneath the mask covering them; the mask did nothing to diminish their devious intensity. "You can't push me around."

He chuckled, like this was funny. "Sure I can," He grabbed onto her damp, bare shoulders and pushed her back against the counter. Her lower back hit it firmly enough to startle her. If this was any other situation with him - if he was actually a good man, she could have stood to play this game with him. But she couldn't do this because it was him. He had to go now.

"Eddie," There was an edge to her voice, but it didn't come out as harsh as she wanted it to, "Don't," She pushed her hands against his chest, which was protected by the hard bullet proof vest that he wore with the rest of his costume. Her push, which was rather flimsy, she noted with annoyance, did nothing to him. She chalked it up to her being nervous - she knew what was going to happen, and she knew there was a point where she was going to stop protesting.

"Honey, I'm not gonna hurt'cha," He nuzzled his face into her hair, cradling her now so that her head was under his chin, her lips inches from his throat. She wanted to bite the skin of his neck, wanted to kiss it, lick it, tear into it with her teeth. She wouldn't let herself unwind from this rigid posture - she feared that if she did, the motions would all come back full force, and she would lost herself to this lust that he brought out of her.

"I just missed ya is all," Big, warm hands cradled her jaw, trying to lift her face so she would look at him, "C'mon baby girl,"

God, that voice was her undoing. Deep, hot drawl that poured out of him like molasses. She could feel the vibration of his chest against her hands, rumbling with each word he spoke. Oh, hell. She tried to keep her face away from his, but those calloused palms could be so strong yet so gentle at the same time. He managed to lift her face, tilting her head back with skill. She turned her cheek as he leaned in for a kiss, his scruffy beard grazing her cheek as did his lips. Undeterred, his mouth continued to kiss down to the crook of her neck, and she felt his tongue lap at droplets of water that still clung to her bare skin.

She balled her hands into fists against the hard covering on his chest, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around his waist. He kissed a warm trail down to her shoulder, having to lean down the farther he went. As if he'd been thinking that at the same time as she, he suddenly gripped his hands onto her towel clothed waist and hoisted her up to sit on the countertop behind her. This swift motion caused the top of her towel to unravel from her chest, leaving her exposed to the chilly air. Her nipples hardened in the coolness, and his administrations were not helping as he stood between her legs and trapped her there, hands stroking her thighs and mouth working all over her neck and shoulders. She did let out a moan, a quiet one that escaped her throat, when he knelt down so his mouth could reach her exposed breasts. The heat between her legs was molten with desire, burning hot with want that she knew wasn't going to go away. She banged her head back against the cabinet on the wall behind her when he tugged on a nipple with his teeth. She didn't even realize her hands were in his hair until he hissed at a particularly hard pull, and she tilted her head to look down at him.

"Not that I don't enjoy the fight you put up, but," Those large hands fumbled with untying the rest of the towel and getting it off of her, "I don't know why y'even bother when you know you're just gonna wind up on your back begging me Eddie, Eddie please-"

With a glare and a surge of energy, she shoved at his chest with her feet, pushing him back away from her. He landed on his back with a massive thud that shook her entire kitchen, pots and pans rattling in their cabinets and under the stove. Jumping down from the counter top, she clutched at the towel in her hands, bringing it up to cover her chest once more. She reached back and snatched the knife up off the counter, pointing it at him as he started to sit back up with a growl.

"No," she stated firmly, swallowing down as much of the arousal as she could. Eddie sat up a little off the floor, leaning on his elbows as he watched her brandish the knife at him. "You need to go. Don't make me say it a third time."

"Awww, 'Chelle," He smiled at her like he thought she was cute, that megawatt grin lighting up the dark kitchen, "Put that damn thing away, honey, only person you're gonna hurt is yourself."

She took a step closer, jaw clenched (as well as her thighs), "You know damn well I know how to use this - I'm not fucking around, Eddie, I want you to-"He lunged up at her suddenly, and she let out a shriek as she jumped back, still holding the knife steadily out in front of her as he leapt to his feet. "Jesus Christ!" One hand clutching her towel closed over her chest, her hand that held the knife trembled ever so slightly as she kept it pointed at him, "Just stop it already, would you please?!" She knew he was trying to scare her, and damn it, it worked. He had that look in his eyes he got when he was about to do something bad - that sick light in his dark iris's that meant he was more than willing to take her even with the knife still clutched between her fingers.

Instead of acting upon whatever he'd been thinking about doing, he relaxed his posture and reached a hand up to smooth his hair out of his face. He sighed, "Believe it or not sweetheart, I'm not here for a fight. I miss you - I wanted to see you." The words sounded foreign, awkward coming from him. The Comedian rarely got sentimental, rarely got serious unless he was pissed off. She almost felt uncomfortable hearing him say them, as much as he himself was saying them.

She swallowed thickly again at his low voice as it crawled over her flesh like a warm breath of air. She didn't let herself loosen her grip on the knife. "You broke into my apartment - into my building."

"Okay," He held up one large hand, palm facing out towards her, "That was broke when I got here - your fuckin' landlord is a piece of shit, wouldn't know how to fortify a building to save his damn life. Then I had to rush on up here and make sure you were okay, but you weren't home. So, yeah, then I picked your lock." He shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "And I wouldn't have to break in if you didn't keep changing the damn locks."

She stared at him in outrage, "I never gave you a key!"

"You left a spare lying out on the fucking coffee table - what else were ya gonna do with it?"

"I wasn't gonna give it to you! Not everything is yours!"

"'Course it ain't," There was that grin again. God, he was going to be the death of her. "That's why when you want something, y'gotta take it."

Instead of arguing with him further, she shook her head, "You're fucking insufferable."

"And you love me for it," He winked at her, taking a step closer, not caring about the potential danger of the knife she held. She raised it at him in warning - she would not be swayed by his charm. Looking down at the blade like how one would look at a flower, the man before her tilted his head to one side before his eyes once again rose to meet hers. Then, "Were you takin' a bath before I came in?" The tone of his inquiry was general curiosity laced with suggestiveness - which meant that she should not answer this question. She didn't give him any indication that she'd heard him, but that didn't seem to deter him from his goal... Whatever it was at the moment. "Well hell, doll, don't let me stop ya! You know what, I've got a great idea: Why don't I join you? I'm feelin' real dirty right now..."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but he was already turning and heading towards her bathroom - her very tiny bathroom that could barely fit one person, let alone the both of them. He himself was the size of two and a half people - tall and broad, and his costume just added to his bulk. Still clutching the knife, she followed him, stepping carefully over the trail of costume he was leaving behind. She had half a mind to pick up all the pieces and throw it all out the window, but she didn't want to give him a reason to be walking around naked in her apartment. At least if everything was here, she could maybe chuck it all out in the hallway and shove him out with it. Maybe. Her heart stopped when she saw his pants lying in the doorway to the bathroom, and she gulped despite herself. "Eddie..." she warned, knowing the sight that would await her when she rounded the corner - she steeled herself for what she would see.

The sight before her she was sure would be the death of her, if nothing else he did quite did the trick. The Comedian was laying in her bathtub, which was not big enough for him, and he was naked. He scrubbed at the black paint around his eyes with the soapy water - he didn't seem to mind the girly scent. Everything was off - his clothes, his gloves, his mask. There were no weapons in sight, so unless they were submerged under the water with the rest of him, they were lying dormant on the floor with the rest of his costume. He cupped his large hands in the water to gather some, and poured it over his head, smoothing back his damp hair. God Almighty. He had to leave now before he caused her to do something she would regret.

"C'mon, 'Chelle, I need help gettin' my back. You know there's that one spot I can't ever reach,"

"No, what you need to do is go, just please, go."

"Please, please, please, so Goddamn polite," He plucked her purple loofah off of the hook it had been hanging on suctioned to the side of the shower. "You're even polite when my tongue is in your pussy." He chuckled at the thought, squeezing her loofah between his hands so the soap suds spilled over his fingers, "'Oh Eddie, please, oh unnh please...'"

She tried her best to ignore what his words did to her. She didn't know what to do - he wasn't going to leave and her resistance was fading. Her conscience was even whispering Just give him what he wants, what you want, and he'll go. But every time she did, it was harder to let him go.

She knew she wasn't the only one this whole situation was hard on.

Her lack of words caused him to look over in her direction, dark eyes trailing up her towel clothed body before meeting her own. He seemed to sense her conflict (which wasn't difficult given their past), and he stood up out of the water.

She'd been right about the whole 'no clothes' part. That was for certain.

Her mouth watered at the sight of him, much like the water that cascaded down his naked body as he stood there. She didn't stop her eyes from roaming; she couldn't. He extended a hand out to her, one long leg lifting over the edge of the porcelain to step out of the claw foot tub. Water dripped off his body onto the floor mat beneath him, and it wasn't long before he stood right in front of her once more. Her eyes were on his chest - where her eye level pointed directly since he was so tall. She focused on the hard muscle beneath the skin, a protective layer of fat covering the muscle - he was dense and warm, the kind of body that you wanted to cuddle up to; the kind of chest that you wanted to fall asleep on. She didn't want to look in his eyes; instead she focused on the dark hair on his chest that the water droplets clung to, the hair that traveled down and down and down - No, she wasn't going to look there, either.

"Where'd all that fire go?" he murmured, his voice low and sensual. It was said so quietly that she wasn't even sure if he was talking to her or of if he was commenting to himself. She felt his fingertips graze the backs of her hands, then close around her clenched fists, including the one still holding the giant breadknife. From there his hands stroked a line all the way up to her elbows where he lifted her limbs and placed them around his neck. It was so much harder not to look at him now - she had to keep her head tilted downwards. "'Chelle," She closed her eyes to keep from looking up into his. His hands were on her face then, gently but firmly tilting her head back. She knew what was coming, and she knew once she hit that certain point she wouldn't want to say no, wouldn't want to tell him to leave.

When she felt his lips touch hers, she knew that point had come. There was no going back now.

౨ৎ

AN: I do not own the Watchmen franchise or any of it's characters. Michelle is my own OC. I also do not own the song 'Natural Born Sinner' by In This Moment. The above pictures are from pinterest, there's links attached that go back to the original posts.

part two

[megggyeggy]

A/N: Hi everyone, so this is my first TWD fan fiction. This will be 18+ so minors DNI. There is cussing in this chapter because it’s Negan. So don’t say I didn’t warn you lol. I didn’t proof read, so if there are any mistakes or if you have any suggestions I’m all ears. This is gonna be interesting. My OC is a close friend of Daryl’s. They are almost inseparable.

The End Of Today

Tylee rode down a leaf covered path, her black and white horses' hooves clicking against the gravel. She held her shotgun close to her hip as she rode, humming to herself softly a song that her mother would sing to her when she brushed the knots out of her hair. “You are my sunshine…my only sunshine..you make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.” Tylee sang as they walked until she saw the familiar gates of her home. She smiled to herself as she approached the gates, tilting her head to the side before dismounting her horse. She held the reins in her grasp as she knocked on the metal doors.

She hadn’t been home in months, not since they met the new community called Hilltop. She had left for a while to go search for supplies, when she did leave on big supply runs she was usually gone for months. But she never had someone go with her, she just needed her and her horse. It was easier that way, rather than trying to make sure someone wasn’t getting into trouble. She watched as the metal door slid open slowly. Smiling at Rick who had opened the door and she watched as his brows furrowed and how he tilted his head to the side like he always did.

“Rick.” She greeted as she began to guide her horse inside the community, Rick smiled a ghost of a smile as he closed the gates behind Tylee. “Tylee..I..I thought-” She tilted her head curiously with a small grin on her face as she licked her lips. “That I was dead? C’mon now, Rick..you really think it’s that easy to get rid of me?” She teased with a small grin on her face, biting her lower lip faintly while Rick let out a weak chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck. “Uh..No no..um..I- You’ve just been gone for a while..we were all worried.” Rick answered to which Tylee snickered out softly.

“I’m touched. Hey, where’s Daryl? I wanted to see him.” She spoke softly with a small grin, while Rick cleared his throat for a moment as he stared at her with a heartbroken expression. “Um..I-..Daryl..” He took a deep breath while Tylee’s quickly disappeared as she stared at him with a worried look upon her face. “Rick-..Where’s Dary?” She questioned, her voice shaky and uneven. Rick stared at her with worried eyes before clearing his throat again as he took a deep breath, “It’s..It’s a long story..” Tylee had tears threatening to spill as she spoke through gritted teeth, “Then make it a short story, Rick! Where the fuck is Daryl??” Tylee growled slowly with a small glare, she wasn’t mad at him. She was simply just scared.

Rick swallowed thickly as he took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face stressfully with his own tears threatening to spill. “I-..Do you remember the group that we ran into..a while back? The Hilltop? How they were warning us about..a community- that called themselves The Saviors-” “Yes, Rick! Please-..please just get to the part about Daryl, please..” She spoke just above a whisper as she held onto her horse’s reins tightly, sniffling softly as she wiped her nose. “They took him..” Said Rick as he placed his hands on his hips while looking at her with a troubled expression.

Tylee ran her fingers through her hair as she stared at Rick with furrowed brows, opening her mouth to speak but nothing came out for a moment. She swallowed dryly as a tear ran down her dirt covered cheek as she stared at Rick, she took a deep breath as she shook her head. A whimper escaped her throat as sniffled, “Where-..Where did they take him?” She whispered softly while Rick shook his head, looking down with a distressed expression. “I-..I don’t know..They took him with them..They killed Glenn and Abraham.” His voice broke as he spoke to which Tylee let out a sob, a hand slapping over her mouth as she turned to face her horse.

“Fuck!” Tylee whispered softly as she sniffled, her lower lip trembling as she whimpered softly as she closed her eyes tightly. “Oh my god.” Tylee sniffled as she took a deep breath, trying to ground herself. “Okay, okay…So..So..We just need to find him..Right? We just need to find him..We will find him and- and..it’ll be okay..We’ve been through this type of thing before, right?-” Tylee began to ramble as she began to pace back and forth. Rick frowned as he dropped his head, letting out a shaky breath. Tears of his own escaping as he shook his head quietly. “No. No, Tylee..this isn’t-..there is no way around this..they-..they own Alexandria. Okay? We follow their rules.” Tylee looked at Rick with a look of betrayal as her brows pinched together, her mouth gaped open in shock. “What?” Rick swallowed thickly as he shook his head quietly, “We’ve lost too much..They win, we lose. It’s that simple..We play by their rules and everyone will be safe- but if anyone steps out of line- more people will die, Tylee.” Rick spoke softly while Tylee stared at him with teary eyes, swallowing thickly as she shook her head with a soft whimper.

“I-..I can’t just..What about Daryl?” She questioned, her voice cracking from the pain she was feeling. Rick shrugged his left shoulder as he cleared his throat, “Daryl is fine...he will be fine.” He tried to reassure her but not even he believed it himself. Tylee opened her mouth to speak up only to hear someone else pounding on the gates. Rick stared at Tylee with a look that said, ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’ Before he turned and quietly made his way to the gates, sliding them open to reveal a man with a salt and peppered beard and hair. “Hello, Prick.” Negan greeted with a toothy grin, licking his lips before taking a step into the community as he took in the breath of fresh air. The man looked over his shoulder with a shit eating grin. “Let’s get what we came for and get the hell out of here.”

The men surrounding Negan had begun to march their way inside of Alexandria with guns, while the leader had stayed behind with Rick. “Did you find some more of MY supplies?” The man questioned with a wide grin, one that never seemed to fade. “We got more supplies. Didn’t find much but..” Rick trailed off as he looked behind Negan with a certain look upon his face before his eyes trailed to Tylee. To which Negan’s eyes had followed, an even wider grin spreading across his features. “Who the hell is this? I don’t believe we have met. Prick, are you gonna be rude or are you going to introduce me to this lovely lady?” Negan suggested with a snicker while Rick wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“That’s Tylee..She left for a supply run a few months ago..” Rick spoke softly, watching as Negan began to approach the woman with a toothy grin. Looking at her horse who had large bags tied to the sides of the saddle. He whistled with an amused expression, tilting his head to the side. “So, I take it you have weapons on you, huh? I know you may not know this, considering you haven’t been here when we arrived..but uh..whatever shit you found while you were out gallivanting, well- it’s ours. The weapons, ours.” Tylee stared at Negan with narrowed eyes, her jaw clenching and shifting as she took a deep breath. She looked past Negan and to Rick who gave a weak nod while keeping his eyes locked on the ground. She took a deep breath before rolling her glazed over eyes as she pulled her shotgun off of her horse's saddle and shoved it into Negan’s hand. As well as her knife that was in her boot, the pistol that was in her hip holster.

Negan snickered out softly with a wide grin as his eyes trailed over her with an amused expression, “Well shit, who the hell shit in your cereal this morning?” Negan teased with a wide grin on his face while Tylee glared up at him with narrowed eyes, shifting her jaw before grabbing her horse by the reins and beginning to guide it to the stables. Negan hummed as he looked back at Rick with a shit eating grin, “Wow. A fireball, eh?” He purred out with a teasing grin on his face. Rick simply didn’t respond. Tylee however, spared a glance back to the men only to see Daryl to which her heart dropped to her stomach. She froze as she stared at Daryl, she knew he had seen her as well. She could tell by the way his hardened eyes had softened. “Daryl..” She whispered softly under her breath as she swallowed thickly, looking down at her boots with teary eyes.

Please don’t take my sunshine away.

The End Of Today.

[justagirlinafandomworld]

It definitely does NOT feel like December should be over! But here we are, wrapping up the year of 2022 with December's reading list. This list is full of gems, I had such fun reading them and I hope you have a chance to enjoy them as well.

I want to give a great big THANK YOU to all the writers on this list! I was a bit of a Grinch this year in RL and your fics pumped my heart full of love, warmth and cheer.

This list is alphabetical by fandom (mostly), then by character. Summaries and warnings are included as provided by the authors.

Read what you like and share what you love!

2022 reading list | fic rec masterlist

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

Marvel

Strategic Fit by @indyluckycharlie Corporate AU!Bucky Barnes x Co-Worker!Reader Bucky knows better, he really does, and the last thing he wants is to give you more reason to hate him, but when he overhears an rather interesting conversation of yours, he just can't help himself.Warnings: Smut (minors do not interact). Explicit dirty talk, phone sex, male masturbation (but trying to hide it). May be considered noncon since Bucky's eavesdropping without permission and getting off on it (although someone else might be getting off on it too 👀) References to female masturbation and oral sex. Some light dom/sub vibes. Enemies to lovers, kind of.

A Piece of Me by @negans-lucille-tblr Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Bucky doesn’t want anything for Christmas, but you still manage to make it special.Warnings: Christmas, grumpy Bucky, moody Bucky, getting drunk, gift exchanges, lingerie, smut, fingering, p in v, orgasms, fluff

Marc's Praise Kink by @softlybarnes Marc Spector x Reader Anon: ill say it once and ill say it again, when marc spector gets comfortable enough around you, the praise kink is gonna come out and it's gonna come out hard, and lemme tell you, there's nothing that man loves more than being told he's doing a good job and hearing how good he's making you feel - i'm literally not taking any arguments about thisWarnings: Smut.

Remember me, love by @writingsoftheloser Sam Wilson x Reader When Sam and Bucky found themselves imprisoned, an old friend shows up to help them. And Sam definitely remembers them. Warnings: there’s some angst, fighting, swearing and a bittersweet ending

Destressing by @kittenofdoomage Steve Rogers x Female Reader Prompt: Steve has been such a good boy and deserves a special treat. Warnings: smut, fluff, slightly subby Steve

In The Moment by @kittenofdoomage Steve Rogers x Female Reader Prompt:  fill me up plz. Warnings: smut, rough smut, public smut

Knowledge Man by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming Librarian!Steve Rogers x Female Reader concept: With him, your words are becoming novels. warnings: tiny plot in library with just smut, semi-public sex, oral and fingering (r receiving),nicknames ─ Dove,

Supernatural

In Spite of What My Heart Says by @princessmisery666 Dean Winchester x Female Reader You’ve avoided Dean for a while, but there’s so much that’s been left unsaid. He catches up to you and you’ll happily distract him to put off the inevitable difficult conversation. Warnings: smut, choking, rough sex (sort of!), p in v, unresolved angst, language. 

The Longest Time by @princessmisery666 Dean Winchester x Original Female Character (Wynter) For the longest time, Dean hasn't allowed himself to dream of a future, but Wynter changes things.Warnings: fluff, flangst.

Just Like A Pill by @princessmisery666 Dean Winchester x Female Reader Sequel to “In Spite Of What My Heart Says”. Y/N has no choice but to go to the Winchester’s for help. But after ditching Dean at the Christmas Market and still not having spoken how will it go down? Will they finally say all the things that need to be said?Warnings: Angst, language, mild smut, mention of Dean dying, Demon!Dean mentioned.

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas by @deanwinchesterswitch Dean Winchester x Original Female Character (Nicole/Nico/Nic) Dean’s holiday spirit is nowhere to be found. Fed up with his Grinch-like behavior, Nicole is determined to open his heart again to the wonders of the world around them and help him find joy in the Christmas season.Series Warnings: FLUFF, a tiny bit of angst, implied smut, slight canon divergence

Evermore by @deanwinchesterswitch Dean Winchester x Reader Living without Dean is an unbearable endeavor.Warnings: ANGST, character death-no graphic detail

Twofer by @kittenofdoomage Dean Winchester x Female Reader x Original Fictional Character (Lucy) Prompt: 2 for 1.Warnings: oral sex, threesome (F/M/F), reverse cowgirl, mentions of bad break-ups

Samnesia Series by @princessmisery666 Sam Winchester x Original Female Character Brooke is a calming distraction from the chaotic mess of Sam's life. When a hunt keeps them separated for over a month, Sam returns to find she no longer remembers him. The need to find out what happened while he was gone sends Sam on a case that will change the course of his life. What he discovers along the way will change the way he looks at love. Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, language, stalking, mentions of cheating, kidnapping, shitty friend, canon level violence mentioned. 

Duck Dean Afternoon (4 Parts) by @mrswhozeewhatsis Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader A/N:  It was born from @helvonasche saying “It’s like fucking a duck for taffy,” after which she had to explain why fucking a duck for taffy was such a stupid idea.Warning: This is crack. So many things you never wanted to know about duck dicks are in this. 

Opportunity Knocks by @kittenofdoomage Dean Winchester x Female Reader x Sam Winchester Prompt: Eager to please both. Warnings: double oral penetration, threesome, implied double vaginal penetration

Other Fandoms

Practice Makes Perfect by @kittenofdoomage Geralt x Female Reader Prompt: she’s been practicing and wants to show him what a good girl she can be. Warnings: sex work, brothels, oral sex

Clueless by @supernaturalgirl20 Din Djarin x Female Reader Request: for idiots in love. “You’re so cute. What did you just say? I said you look like a boot.”Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, Din being clueless, Established sexual relationship, live sick idiots, mild reference to smut.

Happy Reading!

[ophelia-jones]

HAVEN Chapter 10 the beginning of the end

Negan was doing his best to move quickly toward Haven. He didn't want to lose the paladins and lose track of the girls, but if they were headed straight toward Haven? He had to warn them. Once he was there, they could use the truck to follow the trail and catch up to them; be appropriately armed and prepared for a fight.

He heard a noise come from the east, but the rising sun was blindingly bright and he could not see what was coming toward him. He drew his gun with one hand and shielded his eyes from the sun with the other.

"Coulda had your head if I wanted it," Etta said from so close behind Negan that if he had swung Lucille he would have done some damage. Fortunately for both of them, he did not. Lana was the one approaching from the west.

"And he could have had yours, sneaking up on him like that!" she laughed at Etta. "Not your brightest move."

Etta scowled at her friend and then wrapped her arms around Negan from behind, resting her head on his back.

"Daddy wouldn't hurt us," she said playfully. Negan's heart was racing with adrenaline and anxiety, but seeing the young ladies safe and sound was just what he needed at that moment. Negan closed his eyes for a moment and smiled gently, patting Etta's hands where they rested against his chest and stomach. Her calling him Daddy had been a fun diversion, just a little game with very adult rules. It had been her idea, but he had never complained.

"What the shit are the two of you fucking doing out here?" he chuckled slightly.

"Stanley got up this morning and told us Justin and the girls snuck out yesterday to find water. They haven't come back." Lana said. Concern darkened her eyes. Negan sighed deeply and reached out to Lana to embrace her.

"What's wrong?" Lana asked, she and Negan didn't have a hugging relationship.

"Let's talk on the way back to Haven," he said, licking his dry lips. They couldn't afford to waste time.

"Back to Haven? What about the teenagers?" Etta protested, but both women fell into step with Negan sensing his urgency.

"I know where they are," he told them, his voice like rolling thunder.

***************************

"Stanley, Emily, Olivia, and Vida are safe in the stairway to the rooftop with Nancy," Grace told Verity as they began to put their improvised plan into motion. They could hear the UTVs in the distance. Nancy was the eldest of their group at 69 - but not at all the woman you might expect when all hear is her name and age. She was born smack dab in the middle of world war two in Appalachia. She worked her way out of poverty and moved to Owensboro, then Louisville.

She had never married but claimed to have more than her fair share of beaus, and a long-term roommate named Beverly. They had been roommates for 32 years, and Beverly had passed away unexpectedly in 2001. Nancy had not had any other roommates.

She knew how to hunt, fish, get a motor running, and keep it running. She wasn't afraid of much other than going back to the area she'd been raised. She often told the other women that there were far worse things in the darkness up in those mountains than any rambler she'd seen yet. But then she would refuse to discuss the subject further.

She was a handsome woman, never beautiful nor homely, and sort of otherworldly. As if she knew more than anyone else about the meaning of life. Her skin was weathered, and every wrinkle was well-earned. Her hair was an iron slate and her eyes were steel blue. Still, she stood straight, her shoulders square and her arms strong - Etta had challenged her to an arm wrestling match not long ago and lost.

Her eyesight was fading, though, and there was very little to be done about it, so she was the last person in the building who would take up arms. But she would, if it came to it. She didn't mind watching the children - even though she had come of age at the beginning of the sexual revolution, it took a little longer before the ideas driving it reached Kentucky. Anyway, Nancy had been asked to care for children throughout her life, despite never having her own.

Shondra had been born in the late 1980s on the south side of Chicago to a single mom and had been raised by her disabled grandmother more than her mother - though who was taking care of her was up for debate. It was, in fact, her grandmother that was the first walker Shondra encountered when she and her son Elliot had stopped in to check in on the woman who insisted on living in her own home, alone, until the day she died. It was cold comfort for Shondra to know the dearest woman in her life had her final wish granted. Especially when it was her walker who had taken her boy from her.

Shondra relished the opportunity to pick up a rifle and defend this place, she was tired of losing and she was not going to do it again without one hell of a fight.

Sister Sarah was also armed with a semi-automatic rifle - each of the women stationed at the door to the second-floor stairwell to take out anyone who made it past Verity and Grace and through the booby traps. Jessie was stationed on the roof with their prized weapon, a long-range sniper rifle. She was by far the most likely to do what needed doing with it, and doing it efficiently with no collateral damage. Haven could not handle a single loss. Without Etta, Lana, and Amari - that was every pair of hands they had to defend themselves. Six women against at least 17 young men and their Father Confessor. That was assuming, of course, that he didn't have any more men in other locations whom they didn't know about.

Grace and Verity stood on either side of the gate, each peering through a slit in the fence just big enough for them to fire upon unwanted intruders.

"It doesn't matter what happens to me, or to the building. Save the little ones." Verity told Grace - it wasn't a sentimental request, it was an order.

Grace nodded once, never being one for useless words, but her eyes were full of a great many emotions.

"It's been a privilege, being a part of this with you." she finally managed to say, clenching and unclenching her jaw to maintain her demeanor and keep from showing weakness.

"An honor," Verity said.

The sounds of the UTVs were almost upon them. The women squared their shoulders and focused on the driveway leading to Haven. It was covered in glass and bits of metal, gravel, and anything else they could devise to help slow the arrival of dangerous strangers, but that alone would not work this time.