Disclaimer: I am a dark! Writer + light! Writer, and there will be dark kinks/things but I AM NOT encouraging the dark/bad kinks irl !!. If you do not like then do not read.
I keep seeing headcanons of Daryl falling for feminine women or being put in these knight-&-damsel-in-distress tropes. But what about someone with some unlady-like traits? Not masculine, per se, but just someone who wouldn't be described or seen as particularly feminine or soft. Someone who actually doesn't really need him, at all. (No shade to those headcanons, I actually quite like them, just switching things up).
› When you spread your legs to support your forearms, whetstone in one hand and your knife on the other. Wrists tendons visible with each swipe of the knife, mouth tight in concentration. And Daryl is just gone. Squinting at the sharp angles of your bent body. Blushing when you look up to finding him watching you intensely, raising a single brow at him in question, a smirk barely there.
› No lace, no pastels, no makeup. Just rough, worn jeans and loose shirts. There is no pretty underwear when he undresses you, no. Cotton knickers and a sports bra that will hold you if you need to run. Even taking it off is rough, quick. Maybe you slide those nondescript knickers down a bit slower, not necessarily sensual, but it's enough for Daryl. Who's been watching the wind hit that loose shirt and giving an outline of your waist and breasts. Those worn jeans that hug your ass tight each time you bend down to kill a walker. It feels like teasing, a peak of heaven snatched away, making him want to pounce on you.
› Your chapped lips make him shiver. Your calloused hands give him goosebumps. Your hair, perpetually out of your face, is a sweet treat, a reward that he waits patiently to be given to him, once freed from its confines.
› You've got a dirty mouth. A sailor's mouth. It's endearing, and it turns him on. Every other word coming out of your mouth, it's a swearword. Every exclamation is a profanity. It tickles him, how little you care about the looks you get. Makes him soft when you do it under your breath because there's kids around. It makes his cock leak when you do it in bed, his fingers inside of you, your rough hands pulling his hair and arching your back indiscriminately.
› You are fiercely independent. Maybe it's a thing from Before or something you've learned to become in such a rough world. But you don't need nor want anyone if you can do it yourself. Daryl respects that. He's even proud of you for it. You're equals, partners, a team. He doesn't have to worry about leaving you to your own devices – you're meaner than he is, you'll be fine. It makes him blush a little when you save him. A toned arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him back as you shoot several walkers in the head. It's even worse when it's a knife, sliding a man's throat, covering you in warm blood; Daryl's not listening to your scolding after, all hot and bothered about his woman saving him, and seeing the proof so clear and beautiful on your skin and clothes.
› Gender roles? Not a thing. At first, they put you to cook and clean, wash clothes, watch the children; and that's fine, it should be done, and practical you does it. It's when they try to confine you there that starts a problem. It's the apocalypse, people! So you break out of them, make a big enough hole for the rest of the women to follow if they want to. And Daryl is drooling, sorta. Because power and a gun look good on you. The flush you get after arguing in an unrefined manner with any man who tries to tell you to dress, act, or be differently is intoxicating. He won't step in, he knows you've got it. But he will always defend you, specifically if you're not around and someone's being a backwards prick.
› Daryl, who had always followed Merle and every command given to him, is enamoured with how you lead. You demand his attention with a single word, you demand respect in an even tone, you demand to be heard with fire in your eyes. He folds completely, in devotion and in love, under the inescapable weight of your authority. That's who you are, and Daryl happens to not mind, even want, the quiet submission that being with a woman like you requires.
› There is softness. A quiet 'baby', a loving caress, a whispered Daryl. There's a reciprocated devotion embodied in your willingness to give in to him, too. Because you're not selfish, and you certainly don't mind his strong grip and manhandling. Even when you're slouched on the sofa, and you beckon him to lay his head on your lap, rough fingers combing his hair. There is love. A partnership in you sharpening his knives, and him patching up your old boots. A sweetness in the slow mornings, and wild nights. In his tears drying on your shirt, and your drool glistening on his collarbone.
› There are no roles, no adjectives, or societal expectations. You're both singled out in your otherness. He's too quiet, too dirty and rough. You're too independent, too uncaring and wild. Daryl is a follower, inherently, he only learns how to lead after he's put on the spot too many times. You crave control because it's what you want, so you take it, and don't apologise for it. He's softer in his approach to people, bow ready but with a nicer tone after he's gauged their character. You're on alert, as all women are, because this still is a man's world and you've learned to be weary and ready, no room for niceties. Daryl and you make a scary team, it makes sense but it's odd to see. The rough man and wild woman, in love.
I can imagine Dad!Toji letting other guys pay, whether coworkers, buddies, or strangers, to fuck daughter!reader when he's strapped for cash. His only condition was that he was in the same room and watch. He didn't care if some guy was getting too rough, as long as the guy was satisfied and paid, maybe even tipped, he didn't care. And once he had enough money to get by for a while, he would stop. At least, until he needed more money again...
omggg anon, i can imagine this too!
it's also crazy because ive seen a p video almost EXACTLY like this 😭
~~~~~~~
the end of the month was when it was the worst. when your dad started to run low on money. that was how all this started....
"you need to start pitching in more around here," he first told you when you he started struggling. dad!toji urged you to find a job and after weeks of you lazing around the house, doing nothing, he finally got an idea.
since you like staying on the couch so much, he can turn the couch into work for you.
the first person to visit was someone you had recognized before — shiu, your dad's coworker.
"what's shiu doing here so late?" you complained, not knowing the new job your dad had in store for you.
"hm, doll. I found a job for you" toji simply answered. "we're late on bills and shiu offered to help us out"
"how... nice of him" you answered awkwardly when you felt both men staring at you.
"you just have to sleep with him." toji got your attention back with the shocking statement.
"what!? dad, no, I can't!" you had protested, backing away.
"why? you a virgin?"
"well no —"
"then it's fine. we have bills to pay. you don't want to be homeless do you?" toji had a good point .... "dont worry, you won't be alone with him. ill watch"
you couldn't imagine what was worse. the fact you had to fuck someone for money or that your own father was watching you fuck him.
shiu was a family friend. you could trust him right...?
he surprisingly took his time with you. although that had a negative effect because you wanted this over as quickly as possible. even if he was paying a lot of money. he was practically an uncle... and your own father was watching him defile you. this was so fucked.
shiu had you bouncing on him, and before he was finished, he flipped you into reverse cowgirl, so he could have you looking at your dad.
"how's your princess doing toj?" he teased.
toji rolled his eyes, but you could see the tent in his pants getting bigger and bigger.
"look at him, see his eyes?" shiu whispers and tilts your head up by your chin, forcing you to stare back at toji. "he's staring at your pussy. watching you ride me. wishing it was his cock fucking you instead of mine — his own daughter."
the words were filthy, so disgusting and repulsive. so why did they only make you wetter? the thought of you riding toji instead turned you on when it should've had the opposite effect. :(
shiu was close and as he got done teasing he pulled you off of him and came on your face.
"man, your daughter is a good fuck." shiu instantly pulled his pants and clothes back on, casually as if he hadn't just destroyed the girl he'd seen grow up. "let me know if you need another loan, fushiguro." shiu winks at you and lights a cigarette before heading out the door.
that's when you finally break down and freak out, running to your room. it's only ten minutes later when toji knocks on your door. "freshen up, next one will be here in twenty minutes."
──★ 👩❤💋👨 ̟ !! your ex-boyfriend's dad is basically yours too. so when he asks you out for dinner after the breakup, you say yes.
cw: ex-boyfriend's dad!Leon x fem!reader. fauxcest to the max! leon's been a freak since the start. daddy kink. you call Leon dad and he calls you his daughter/kiddo 😇. pussy eating (for the soul).
notes: FIRST COMMISSION YAY 🎉 commissioned by the lovely @tinysunshine! thank you so much again, I had so much fun working on this comm for you. I had a lot of creative liberty and I'm so happy you liked the end results. for anyone interested in commissioning me, this is my kofi! lots of love to everyone <3
When you broke up with your boyfriend, Scott, you expected Leon to take his son’s side.
Even if Leon always said you were his kiddo. One of his own. That’s how he put it. Called you his favorite girl whenever you came by his house and greeted you with hugs. Teasingly referred to you as his daughter when you gave him a card for Father’s Day, kissing you on the forehead that was too soft to be friendly.
You never thought much of it while you dated his son, Scott. Scott was like a puppy in a way. Enthusiastic with a need for commands. A little dumb when it came to life and dumber in bed. So maybe you thought of Leon’s face one or two times during painfully lukewarm missionary with his son, that doesn’t make you a bad person. It was just a fantasy that you’d never take further. Leon saw himself as a sort of father figure to you. You’re not evil enough to cheat on a man twice your age and one who sees you like that.
You and Scott breaking up was mutually agreed upon. College sweethearts never work out anyway. No fights or tears, just an ache in your chest. Two years of dating over just like that on a random Thursday. You’re a little pissed that you endured two years of mediocre dick for nothing.
Leon changed your feelings. A week after the breakup, he’s calling you damn near midnight. There was dread in you as you stared at the caller ID. Mr. Kennedy. So formal. He had only ever called you to wish you a happy birthday. Why’s he calling you now? You cringed at the thought of him prodding at your relationship with his son. Or worse. Trying to convince you to get back with Scott. But you picked up the phone anyway. You’re nice like that.
“Mr. Kennedy? Hey. Uhm, why’re you calling me?”
“Well…uhh….”
It took a while for you and him to find the natural flow of conversation. Especially since the faint drawl in Leon’s voice told you he’s been drinking. You were right about him asking about your failed relationship with Scott, but not in the way you expected.
“He never disrespected you, right? Never hit you or cheated on you?”
“What? Scott? Are you kidding? He’d never. He looks like he’s still bottle-fed.”
At least you both shared a laugh there. In that smooth voice you had come to dream about over the months, he purred in your ears as he asked if you were okay. Was the breakup hard? Were you feeling lonely? Did you have friends to comfort you? And while the breakup was really not that hard, maybe you stretched the truth a tiny bit just to hear him mumble, “My poor girl. My son’s dumb as shit for leaving you.”
Huh. You didn’t see that coming. There was an awkward beat of silence before you heard Leon suck in a breath
“So…are you doing anything next Friday? Because maybe we should go to, I don’t know. Dinner? Something to cheer my girl up, hmm?” There was a loose and playful edge to his voice despite his obvious nerves. It should’ve made you suspicious. Any other person would steer clear of their kid’s ex-girlfriend. But the idea of free dinner and the chance to stare at Leon one last time made your resolve weaken. It didn’t take much to say yes and you told him to swing by your apartment to pick you up.
That Friday is now, but instead of dinner, you have Leon peeling the zipper of your jeans down with his teeth.
“Look at you…” he rasps against your skin, fervently pulling your clothes off. You yelp when your panties come off with your jeans, feeling awfully bashful despite your previous boldness.
You were the one who pulled Leon into your apartment and had him lay you down on your bed. The door swung open, and there he was: like the leading star of a porn flick. Leather jacket, well-fitted dress shirt, and that fatherly warmth in his gaze. You caught a whiff of the cologne you bought him with that card for Father’s Day, something woodsy and a hint of lavender.
He wanted this as much as you did the moment your lips were on him. You tasted the whiskey on his tongue as you kissed him, letting him grip your ass and drool all over your face. Your shirt was off before you could worry about the morality of your choices, but you decided to be reckless for once.
He clicks his tongue as you hide yourself under his heavy gaze, gently pulling your hands away from your puffy cunt. “Kiddo, you don’t gotta hide from me. I know what I’m doing with you. Dad knows what he’s doing.” He’s kissing the palms of your hands before tucking them at your side, dipping his head down to nudge his nose against your mound.
Dad…? Did he just say Dad?
That should have turned you off. Or panicked you. Or something. But he says it so naturally. It feels so right. Leon pulls your legs apart, hoisting your ankles onto his shoulders like you’re a rag doll. The sight of him so close makes you dizzy. He’s right. He’s fucking right. You need your Dad to make you feel better.
He’s all smiles and innocent words as he lays sloppy kisses along your inner thighs. “What? Not a fan of playing house? I just wanna get your mind off the breakup. Scott’s a fucking idiot for leaving you. And god, you’re just the prettiest girl in the world. All for me.”
With his thumbs, he spreads your chubby folds apart, cooing when you whine. Just to tease you, he blows a puff of air on your sensitive clit, his deep laughter rumbling in your ears.
“Daddy…” you drawl, seeing how the word feels on your tongue. It does feel right. It feels just as right as it did all those times Leon called you his daughter. “Dad? Can…can you put your mouth on me?”
Leon doesn’t say anything, but his shaky exhale says enough. He delves into your warmth, lips latching onto your clit as he gives a harsh suckle. You’re not shy as you cry out from the onslaught of pleasure, and Leon isn’t either as he feasts upon you. Moaning and chuckling into your chubby folds as he has his fill of you, as if his “kiddo” falling apart was the best inside joke in the world. Gripping him from his salt-and-pepper hair, you grind your cunt against his stupidly perfect clit-jumping nose. Your nails dig into his scalp as you weakly pull him closer, nearly yelping as he grabs your waist to draw you harder against his tongue.
You slur something between “son a bitch” and “daddy”, the pleasure curdling in your gut makes your head fuzzy. Your past reluctance to indulge in your fantasies was up in smoke. Not when “Dad” was going to make you come faster than Scott ever could. Not when Daddy can make your thighs tremble in a few minutes.
But shit, you had all the time in the world for this. Maybe you can print out an adoption certificate for Leon to sign if it means having him eat you out like it’s all he’s meant for in his life for the rest of your days. Being a Kennedy is getting more tempting by the second.
You’re dimly aware of Leon rutting against your mattress, his labored breath against your flesh, his flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes. When he pulls away, he breathes deeply, your essence glossing his lips and clinging to his growing stubble. “There we go, kiddo,” he groans. “Make a mess on my face like a good daughter.”
You don’t last much after that. Must be the powers of pretending to be related. All it takes is his tongue dipping into your dripping hole and his thumb rubbing figure eights on your clit to cum with a broken moan, thighs closing around his head as you smother him.
Eventually, your body finally falls slack. And you thankfully don't kill Leon as you try to gather your thoughts with your breath. What would Scott think of this? How could you fuck your ex-boyfriend’s dad of all people?
I mean…we’re just…playing house. Yeah. Exactly. You’re just playing house with Leon. All daddies gotta show love for their daughters. Right? You nervously giggle as you lazily sit up, staring down Leon’s disheveled state. He awkwardly grits his teeth as he drags his hips along your mattress to rest his head on your thigh, the sweat on his face a testament to his stifling desire.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS 🩷 it’s everything i wanted! <3
Teasingly called you his daughter when you gave him a card for Father’s Day, kissing your forehead that was too soft to be genuine. 😀😀😀 i’m not normal about this
Leon pulls your legs apart, hoisting your ankles onto his shoulders like you’re a rag doll. The sight of him so close makes you dizzy. He’s right. He’s fucking right. You need your Dad to make you feel better. omg why is this so hot why is he so hot i stg a tear rolled down my leg
Maybe you can print out an adoption certificate for Leon to sign if it means having him eat you out like it’s all he’s meant for in his life for the rest of your days. Being a Kennedy is getting more tempting by the second. i need leon to adopt me so bad. when i said i needed his last name i didn’t mean i wanna be his wife…
You don’t last much after that. Must be the powers of pretending to be related. real as fuck!
thank you so much for this! worth every penny. you are so talented and i adore your writing voice. icky but sweet and comforting lowkey. need a hug from dad leon desperately 🩷🩷🩷 THANK YOU FOR THIS 💜💜💜
Okay i had this vision of you and Daryl sneaking off somewhere in the prison to fuck and you both run into someone else on the way back
Warnings: Hair grabbing? Sucking off daryl, face fucking, awkwardness, and getting caught sorta?
Daryl x female reader
Word count: idk I didn’t count this time but it’s mega short #writers block
Links page for more Fics
"we're gonna get caught Daryl" You say with a small giggle as the hunter drags you off towards a seemingly hidden spot in the prison. The poor man had been hanging out all day for you, he'd tried sneaking off with you earlier in the day but Rick needed him for something so it left him half chubbed in his pants and thinking about you on your knees for him the rest of the afternoon. The man couldn't wait any longer, sure he checked no one was going to come but at the end of the day he didn't care anymore.
"don't give a shit" He grunts as Daryl grabs your face and smashes his lips into yours roughly and hungrily like he's a man starving. You whine loudly as he grabs your hair and tugs it pulling you deeper into the kiss. Daryl fumbles with your belt with his right hand before pulling open your belt then jeans. He slips his thick rough finger between your folds and he groans at how wet you are already "shit woman so wet already" He groans in an almost animalistic manner as he opens you up with his thick fingers, even though you didn’t need the extra time. You were aching, wet and desperate for him to shove his cock inside of you because ever since lunch time when you two were supposed to sneak off you've been thinking about his dick all afternoon.
You let out a loud and shrill moan as he curls his fingers slowly, teasingly as the calloused pads of his thumb drags over your clit. He kisses along your neck then back up to your jaw then lips again. You can feel the familiar knot in your stomach forming embarrassingly early as you clench around his fingers - but you've been on edge all day, practically soaking wet all day waiting for him to make you cum. "Fuckk.. Daryl.. Daryl" You repeat his name like a chant and he groans in response but theres a teasing grin on his face as he kisses you again.
You whine loudly as he pulls his fingers out with a pop and you look at him with an annoyed pout. "Daryl" You beg as she grab his hand trying to bring it back to your aching wet pussy but he responds by pushing you down until you're on your knees. Daryl swiftly undoes his belt and frees his pulsing cock it slaps against his stomach as it springs loose, precum dripping from its tip you lick your lips. Daryl grabs the shaft of his dick and rubs it against your lips you press a few tentative and teasing kisses to his tip. "Stop fuckin teasin woman" He growls and you've never heard anything hotter than the growl in his voice when you tease him. you open your mouth and take his whole length until the head of his cock touches the back of your throat. Daryl grabs the back of your head, his fingers intertwining with your hair as he pushes your head down into his cock. He starts slow with just his hand moving your head as you make a few gaging noises which is enough for him to groan. Daryl’s hips buck as he fucks your face basically using you as a human fuck toy. “Mmmfh” you whine as you clench your thighs together and rock desperately trying to create friction. “Uh uh Girlie” Daryl chides as he nudges your legs with his boot to which you oblige in hope he’ll return the favour.
Just as you feel Daryl’s cock twitch in your mouth signalling his close release you hear a sound. It sounds like a door creaking open from the hallway. Daryl is too busy cumming down your throat to hear the noise and he pulls out of your mouth with a groan. “Fuck woman you are a dick suckin pro” he can be so crass but you love him for it. There it is again the noise of the door shutting “fuck” You both whisper in unison, you buckle your belt quickly and Daryl follows suit.
“Fuck sake… who the fuck is out an about” Daryl grumbles as he holds the door open for you and you both step out into the hallway. You make it only about 10 steps before you both freeze as you come face to face with Maggie and Glenn. The four of you freeze in your tracts, you all know what you’ve been up to. It’s obvious Glenn and Maggie look just as disheveled and flustered as Daryl and you. Maggie looks mortified and Glenn seems as if he’s praying for the world to swallow him whole. You let out a strangled squeak of surprise before fixing your hair into a neater ponytail. “Uhhhh..” Glenn says rubbing the back of his neck not knowing what to say because well what do you say in this situation?
“This didn’t happen” you say as you shoot the couple a warning stare before grabbing Daryl and walking off briskly.
A/n: this is for @dixondisease 🤘I will put the link to the prompt HERE go check it out they are amazing they have been dragging me out of writers block ! My BF proof read this and he's a music nerd not a writing one so it may have some typos
Also the dividers/banners that I am using are from @anitalenia I think
☽ summary: Daryl and Readers relationship is fairly new after years of pining and 2 weeks of officially dating Reader is craving something more she just wants Daryl to kiss her again.
☽ warnings: Established new relationship, making out, palming dick through pants, grinding, daryl being awkward at the start, sorta being caught but not really (?)
☽ word count: 1.2k
You’ve only been officially dating Daryl for 2 weeks now he does sweet things for you like grabbing clothes you like on runs, bringing you back whatever sweet snacks he can scavenge, he holds the door open for you, cleans your gun but you expected more? Not like mariage more but more in the sense that you just want your man to kiss you, a year of pining and 2 weeks of dating and the asshole hasn’t kissed you since he confessed. You’ve tried dropping hints that you’d be okay with him kissing you more but there hasn’t been anything from it yet.
It’s not like he doesn't like you, he loves you hell he’s completely enamoured by you by your beauty but he has never been treated gently before like you do. You make him nervous… he doesn’t want to hurt you, it shows everytime he touches you he treats you like a glass sculpture. You both sit on the couch in your shared home, you can tell Daryl is mulling in his thoughts as he makes the same brooding face with scrunched brows as he stares into space so you decide that if you want a kiss you’re going to have to make a move. It’s no secret that Daryl isn’t exactly good at intimacy.
Even between friends he gets all awkward and clammy so when you lean forward close enough that your lips are only inches apart. “You wanna kiss?” You ask with a sly cheeky grin as your eyes flit from his lips to his eyes then to his lips again. As the words come from your mouth Daryl moves his face away from yours with a bewildered expression like you’ve just revealed you’re an alien.
God he’s so awkward it’s endearing and so frustrating at the same time. Perhaps you should try a different approach? “You wanna cuddle?” You hum your sly grin shifting to more of a soft needy expression but Daryl’s face stays blank for a second before he shakes his head with a “naw”.
Yet you refuse to give up just yet, maybe he’s just not thinking straight. You move your face closer to his again but this time you grab the collar of his shirt so he can’t escape. “One kiss just to try?” Daryl doesn’t respond but when you press your lips against his he doesn’t move away as your grip on his shirt loosens. After a second Daryl surprises you by deepening the kiss, his tongue seeking entry but you pull away with a soft surprised but delighted laugh Daryl doesn’t let you pull away though, he follows your movements trying to press his lips against yours again.
“Thought you didn’t want a kiss?” You tease against his lips and he responds with a simple “mmhm” before kissing you deeper than before his tongue entering your mouth in a slow sloppy kiss, you let him get carried away for a moment before you fully pull back this time making sure he can’t follow. Daryl protests with a whine but you ignore it as you laugh softly. “You’re the one that said you didn’t wanna do this” Daryl tries to lean in again but you gently push his chest back and he lets out a surprisingly whiny “Come on…please”
“Too bad, you don’t get to change your mind” You joke but Daryl isn’t listening as he pounces on you crawling atop of you as he lays you back on the couch. Daryl smashes his lips against yours hard and hungry like he’s a starving man who hasn’t eaten in days. As you kiss Daryl sloppily your hand travels down his body from his chest and stopping at the now very prominent hard on in his pants, your breath hitches as you feel it press against your hand before you get an idea. Your small hand palms the outline of his cock gently through his jeans, it’s just the right amount of pressure to elicit a loud animalistic groan from Daryl. “Fuck- shit woman” Daryl mutters as he bucks his hips against your hand as you continue to massage his cock through his pants. Daryl moves his face towards yours and you pull away quickly as your other hand moves to his face to keep him at a good distance. "uh uh" You sing with a cruel teasing chuckle as your other hand comes to a stop and pulls away from the outline of his cock. "Come on woman.. m' sorry i take it back" Daryl mutters hesitantly but his voice is lacd with want and frustration.
"suppose i'll let it side this once hm?" You hum as you move your hand off his face which results in Daryl grabbing you and crashing his lips into yours. Despite his eager attitude his kiss is hesitant at first as if he's scared he'll spook you but as you kiss him back more enthusiastically he gains confidence as pushes his tongue into your mouth. A loud whiney groan whimper is ripped from his throat as you feel Daryl suddenly grind his jean clad cock against your equally clothed thigh. "mmh fuck-" Daryl whines as he grinds his hard on agaisnt your thigh like some horney dog but it makes you grin. "Gettin' ya all worked up hm?" You hum as you pull away from the kiss again and stroke his hair before smashing your lips into his again. You decide to give your poor baby boy a helping hand by moving your thigh up to give him more friction than before. "M' gonna.. m' gonna cum if you keep it up" Daryl mutters as he grinds harder against your thigh and he leaves sloppy open mouthed kisses along your neck and jaw.
Just as you can sense Daryl is coming to his climax there's a loud knocking on the front door of your shared house. "Daryl?-..." The voice which you quickly recognize as Rick's calls out but stops when he hears a whine come from Daryl followed by a panicked "Oh fuck- Gimme a minute!" Daryl yells back, voice shaky as he's already jumping up from the couch and trying to adjust his boner to hide it the best he can. "Comein Rick" You call out sweetly as you also stand up giving Daryl some time to collect himself you open the door but keep it shut enough to block Daryl from view. "Whats up?" you hum with pursed lips and flushed cheeks. Instantly Rick knew what was up.
"Just wonderin' if Daryl knew where the spare pair of boots i found went.." Rick says with a sly knowing smirk as he looks down at you then up at Daryl as he approaches trying to act as if he wasn't just grinding himself needily into your thigh over some kissing. "but i sense i am interrupting y'all so i'll leave you two alone i'll come back later" Rick chuckles before nodding at Daryl before walking off.
"Fuck sake" Daryl mutters as he shuts the door too embarrassed to watch rick descend the porch stairs. "S' ya own fault... bein too bloody loud" You say with a small giggle it's clear you aren't nearly as embarrassed as Daryl.
A/n: This was actually so fun to write! Thank you to @dixondisease for THIS prompt as always guys go give her a follow she is an amazing writer and one of my fav people <3
☽ Summary: honestly idk just funny smutish moments?
☽ Warnings: crude comments from both reader and Daryl, F!reader, Swearing, name calling, light smut, sexual touches, breif description of reader giving head
☽ Word count: 1.4k
You and Daryl have been together since Hershal’s Farm, and naturally you’d fooled around together multiple times since then. By some miracle you’d both managed to only be caught two times, once actually having sex and the other you guys were just teasing, groping still incredibly embarrassing to be caught in the moment.
The first time you’d been teasing Daryl all day, tempting him with looks and gestures when no one else is looking. You are coming out of the pantry after putting your gun back when Daryl corners you against the wall of the stairs, his eyes are dark and hungry, the kind of look that lets you know you aren’t getting away unless he lets you. A wide teasing but nervous smile pulls onto your face as you look up at your man “Whatcha doin baby?” it’s a seemingly innocent sentence to outsiders but he knows you know what he’s doing. Daryl tilts his head and scoffs as he looks you up and down slowly, hungrily “Don’t fuckin’ play dumb, you been playing with me all day woman” This makes you giggle softly as you kiss him slowly on the lips, your hands wandering dangerously south even though Olivia, hell anyone could walk in. Daryl bites back a groan as you palm his cock through his jeans like a horny teenager, you pull away once you gain your common sense again.
Thankfully just as you tear your face off Daryl's Olivia walks down the hallway and squeaks behind Rick standing shaking his head with a poorly suppressed smirk. “You two are worse than two teenagers in highschool” Rick chuckles as he slides past you and Daryl. You gingerly remove your hand from Daryl’s pants and use the distraction as a moment to flee from your very pent up and now very embarrassed partner. You speed walk and practically jog down the street Daryl is hot on your heels and you know it but you don’t look back that would cost you seconds that you couldn’t afford. That’s when you spot your saving grace, Tara. “Tara! Hey” You grin as you come to stop in front of your friend who looks mildly concerned at your sudden presence. “Uhhh hey? What's up?” She asks her head on a confused swivel until she spots Daryl making a B-line for you. “Oh nothin’ just feel like we ain’t talked in a while hey?” You bluff but your efforts are futile as he reaches you grabbing you by your belt buckles and dragging you away with a mumbles “yeah nice chat but she’s fuckin busy”
“Hey?! I was talkin’ to her you prick” You pout as Daryl drags you inside and hastily into your shared bedroom but that doesn’t last long as he smashes his lips against yours nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs in doing so.
The second and last time you both got caught was mortifying, mostly for Daryl.
Rosita, Daryl, Eugene, Tara and you had gone on a run to get some ammo and food. It was going good so far you’d managed to get a few boxes of food and a bit of ammo only 2 days into the runn. That's when you decided it’s time for some fun you passed Daryl while he was waiting for Eugene to finishing yapping, the gap between Daryl and your path is small and tight so instead of saying excuse me you decide it’s a great idea to turn to the side and squeeze past deliberately pushing your ass against his cock as you move past.
If Eugene wasn’t there Daryl would’ve called you out and fixed your attitude before it became a problem but Eugene, Tara and Rosita are with you so it’s up to Daryl to find a good enough space. So you do it again, brushing past Daryl with just enough friction to make him bite down a grunt. Rosita noticed it was hard not to when you clearly went out of your way to brush past Daryl.
“Hey guys, it’s getting darker i think we should camp out here tonight” Tara offers as she stands in front of a cottage style house it’d be big enough for the five of you to sleep. After you’d all brang your stuff inside Tara started going through the food deciding what you all should eat. You get an idea you were already standing close enough to Daryl to whisper in his ear “Y’know what’d really top off today?” You whisper just loud enough in his ear, but clearly Daryl's poker face isn’t as good as it usually is as once you pull your head away from his ear Rosita gives you a head shake and a slightly disgusted look but in a playful way. you just shrug because well she hasn’t commented on it yet so you continue
“Y’know you still haven’t gotten me back for my little stunts… You wanna do somethin’ bout that?” You whisper in Daryl’s ear this time his poker face is working but it’s too late Rosita knows exactly what you are whispering and giggling at.
“You’re fucking animals.. Both of you but mostly you” Rosita says rolling her eyes but theres a small smirk on her lips. “Me?” You say dramatically pointing to your chest in disbelief “I'd do no such thing” Daryl lets out an amused scoff at you which makes you giggle
“I’m calling bullshit” He grumbles but he shuts up quick as you whisper “Come and get me you fucking animal” before standing up and giving Daryl a look before walking off he follows quick he’s smart enough when to swollow the embarrassment and go. “Where are they goin?” Eugene asks painfully loud as his eyes train on your ass as you walk away and Rosita and Tara both scoff. “Where do you think Idiot?”
Clearly Euegne didn’t get the hint because he decided to piss at the worst time possible. The bathroom door didn’t have a lock which was already a risk in itself but to be completely honest in the moment you were too horny to worry, what a mistake that was.
You’d managed to undo Daryl’s pants, get on your knees and start having the time of your life sucking Daryl’s painfully hard dick. Your tongue was working its magic, swirling around the tip and on the underside of his shaft as you toyed with his balls in the most perfect combination. Daryl was close you could tell by the little grunts and whines he couldn’t stop from slipping out and the way he gripped your hair tighter and started bucking his hips into your face. That’s when Euegene clearly thought it was time to piss as the bathroom door swung open. Fully. Daryl's back was to the side wall and so was yours so Eugene has the perfect view of both you on your knees and Daryl's dick half in your mouth.
You’d never moved quicker, not even when a walker had tried to eat you earlier today, you quickly stood up grabbing the door handle and slamming the door shut with a yelled “asshole!” But you couldn’t help but burst into laughter as you looked up at your boyfriend's face to see the utter horror and embarrassment on his face.
Daryl was red, redder than you’d ever seen him.
Loud and pure laughter spills out of your mouth that had just been performing dirty acts. “Oh my God, Daryl- i- holy shit” You sputter out as he grumbles “yeah so fuckin funny, why you laughin?” while shoving his now limp dick back into his jeans with a deep annoyed pout. “He just saw my dick dunno, why is that so funny?” “S’ funny cause I ain't the one who got seen, for once i was fully clothed” You manage to say as you pull yourself together and kiss Daryl on the forehead. “Ain’t like they didn’t know what we were doin’ in here anyway” Daryl just frowns at you, he hates being embarrassed more than anything and your sassy man of a boyfriend hates a lot of things. “Don’t make it any better.. He saw my dick”
“Baby if ya that bothered do you want me to pants Eugene so everyone can see his dick too?” You joke which Daryl doesn’t appreciate at all but you swear there's a small smirk on his lips.
But if a fic doesn't match your features, use your imagination to change it
For example if the reader is written to be blue eyed and you have like brown eyes and its says something like 'they start to admire your blue bright eyes' change it in your Imagination to be like 'they start to admire your deep dark brown eyes' or something
Or just write a fanfic where it fits you, whatever works
And this goes to more areas other than eye color
(Also I personally don't that's problematic to say, I just wanted to bait ppl into reading lmao)
Everyone knows that heat takes a toll on a hybrids body, smaller and more fragile breeds especially. So when Price’s little bunny hybrid is panting on the bed, exhausted after a straight three rounds of his caring love?
He knows he should stop.
But she really is begging.
She’s so pretty like this, silky ears and little pink bows, hair all messy and sticking to her skin. So pretty, little lashes fluttering in overstimulation, and that puffy little pussy just oozing out his cum.
It makes Price swell with pride.
Seeing her take it so well. Watching the way her sweet little eyes glaze over, his little bunny getting all cock drunk and woozy as he slaps his fat tip back against her pussy lips.
She squeaks, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard.
Price grins as she whimpers, hips both trying to get away and pull his cock back in, all at the same time. He maneuvers his tip up, red and angry and definitely sore, just from the grip this little cunt has on him.
“Calm down pretty mama… gotta make sure it sticks, yeah? That’s what heat is for…”
He makes it another couple of inches before she squeaks again, panting and straining. He knows he’s big, but with the way her pussy flutters she makes it seem like he’s forcing a lot more in. He chuckles darkly, smoothing down her hair.
Another soft thrust of his hips, forcing in another inch or two.
“That’s it… you need a big cock, yeah? A big cock? For such a small bunny?”
Her frantic nodding is what motivates him to shove the rest in with a groan. Hips to pelvis, balls up against her as his body begs to fill her up again. Breed her. Make her carry his kits.
Hybrids only have heat for one reason, anyway.
“That’s it… let me help you sweetheart… let me help you out…”
And sure enough, all it takes is a few weeks time. She’s out of heat and back roaming around base, being all perfect and cuddly to soldiers that need emotional support.
It disgust Price when the other men try and touch her, talk to her, wave to her. But he knows that swelling in her belly is his.
Just thinking abt a bunny!hybrid reader and handler!Price… (he’s been my obsession lately, if you couldn’t tell)
But like what is your handler to do when his sweet little bunny is all muddled and blushing and just so hot all day? She’s rubbing up against tables and whining and whining, and really just spending oh so long in the bathroom?
The poor thing must be in heat.
So Price, naturally, as any good hybrid handler does, fucks her silly.
He has you over the table of the common room because really, he couldn’t make you wait that long. He’s just doing you a service, and if the men walk in? Maybe they’ll help too.
So he fucks you real good.
Rutting into you when he’s only pulling out an inch or two, not wanting to leave your soft heat. You little scut wagging in pleasure as his thick cock rocks into you, not at all soft.
Bunnies don’t mate gently, now do they?
He tugging on your ears and grinding his tip against the sweet, gummy spots in your cervix just barely breaching the muscle. Heavy, breeding balls slapping against your clit, your every essence dripping down to soak his thighs. A thick ring of cream around his cock, and God help him he comes at the sight.
There’s no need for condoms when you’re just begging to carry his kits anyways.
𝒮𝒯𝑅𝒜𝒲𝐵 𝑀𝐼𝐿𝒦 𝒫𝐼𝒞𝒯𝒰𝑅𝐸𝒮 presents
a rick grimes ﾉ fem reader production . . . ᝰ .ᐟ
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──── 3 . 8k wrdz , set durin da prison season , szn 3 spoiler in da first paragraph , black fem reader , reader is alluded to bein a lot shorter than rick , daddy kink , unmentioned age gap ꒰ reader’z like 21 - 22 , rick iz in his mid - late 30s ꒱ , oral sex ꒰ rick -> reader ꒱ , pet name usage ꒰ honey , baby , sweetheart ꒱ !
𝜗ϱ 𝓁𝓊𝓋 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝓂 𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓀 . . . s literali jus rick eatin reader out , mhm . hope u like ! Minors & Ageless Blogs Do Not Touch !
you’re too soft for this world.
in a way, rick shares some appreciation for that. he’s had a front row seat in watching current circumstances turn his son, morph him honestly, into something that an ordinary, fourteen year old boy should not be. it took rick some time to discern, a little longer even for him to absolve carl from the harshness and frigidity that only living during an apocalypse and having to murder your own mother can cloak a person’s psyche within. giving him more farming duties contributed a lot to his more recent, positive change — caring about a life, an animal’s defenseless, vulnerable life helped. nevertheless, rick is aware that he doesn’t need carl getting too comfortable, too soft. it isn’t something that needs to be discussed because carl is mindful of it all, too.
to be frank, rick doesn’t need him becoming you.
he relieved you from your assignment today with hardly a glance given in your direction as he spoke softly to carol, telling her that he’ll have you back within an hour, hour and a half, give or take. you had an idea of what rick wanted, what he was trying to do, albeit regardless of it all, when outside of the safeguarded walls of the prison, and especially after placing his striking, .357 magnum revolver within the soft, dirtied palms of your hands you’re urgently trying to shove it back within his own. your head shakes, violently, as if someone had grabbed your body within their fingers and twisted it from left to right.
“i don’t wanna—“
his hands rest upon the slim line of his hips. he refuses to touch the gun now that you have it. eyes of frosted blue squint beneath the woolly peels of his eyebrows as he looks out somewhere over his shoulder before nodding towards the broad trunk of a tree about ten feet away that’s marked with a large X.
“i want you to shoot the target.”
“but i don’t want—“
he’s shaking his head, lips pulled thin, “—ain’t about what you want. shoot the target.”
you’re trembling. rick has let it get to him before — the shaking, the whines, the tears. unlike a few others, usually girls, it isn’t for show just to get out of target practice and hurry back to be with a lover or a few friends, no, your fear is genuine . . . which only makes this all the more necessary.
his chin has to lower in order for both your sets of eyes to meet. his face doesn’t change. it’s bright out, a nice sunny day. pieces of light break in past frazzled branches and stout hedges, one slice gleams right there within his eyes. it allows you to read the severity that glimmers inside the pools of somnific baby blue and your small weeping only worsens.
there’s a needle pointed ache — stabs him right in the gut it feels like. sheltered thing, spoiled thing you are. you were found by glenn in a cottage, buried deep in the woods some miles out around eight months ago. had been surviving off of canned beans, some salami, and fruit from a nearby pear tree. you’d admitted to him that your older brother had gone to scavenge up some more food, a few weapons, but it had been going on almost ten days and you knew to finally come to the conclusion that he’d been bit. therefore, glenn brought you back with him.
ever weary of strangers, rick took some time warming up to you — not that you tried to even get the guy to like you anyhow. you feared him for a few weeks or so. he’d come rounding the corner of your cell block and as if you were a spooked kit, you’d either turn and quickly scurry away or retreat back within your pen, waiting until the slim, though muscled shadow of his figure swiftly rippled past the thin, floral sheet hung above the entrance of it that acted as a pitiful flap of privacy. incipiently, you thought of him as cold, rotten . . completely barbed to his core. he killed walkers without a single blink, you heard a few stories about him murdering a few people, too.
it took a lot of convincing — some from carol, maggie, until eventually rick settled your fear and worries himself. it had started to become difficult to overlook your unease when he came around, uncomfortable. he’s a good person. he’s loyal to the ones he loves, would lay his life down on the line in a split second and not expect a single thing in return, carol informed. a bit hot headed and stubborn sometimes, has his own issues, but who doesn’t? especially given the state of the world now.
“i don’t want you to be scared of me, alright?” his voice idly drawled one night about a month after you integrated yourself with the group. he stood watch with you on the prison’s west side tower — didn’t look at you when he said it neither, kept his eyes focused out at the gates with a hand on his holster. always watching, always prepared for the unfortunate inevitable. “me and you? we’re all good. i won’t hurt you.”
the confirmation felt nice. and with it, something inside of you fell open . . as if it had been banging against a closed door that was suddenly snatched ajar.
rick grimes is . . . handsome. you enjoyed watching him from afar forth that point on. his presence commanded attention and conformity from everyone he walked past. it’s in the air around him — edges torched with the incessant scents of petrichor and wet clay, full of effortless sway and control. placing your life within his hands was . . easy. giving into that pesky attraction was even easier. his mouth tasted like moonshine when you kissed him for the first time, hidden behind a cell block like a couple of young lovers. it was clumsy and rough and wet . . so messy. his fingers twitched when he allowed his hands to grip onto your waist, they shook with poorly veiled helm as you feebly arched up into him, back having to curve and arms pulling at his neck so that all of him could envelop you.
it was something that was supposed to be forgotten. rick was drunk, you were tipsy and it’d been late. simple. all of the necessary ingredients to chalk it all up to a silly, dissipated mistake.
in spite of so, rick found his eyes lingering. they’d catch your frame damn near half a mile away, watching you feed ingrid, the camp’s horse, hay from your little hand. when dinner time rolled around, the both of your eyes would lock across the cafeteria and . . . well, a few more kisses advanced into some groping in the tower on a rainy, spring evening. and soon, you would occasionally gift a stress soothing although messy blowjob. sometimes a couple of his long, agile fingers would find themselves buried within the gummy pink of your insides, stroking, pushing, prodding, as he kissed and licked away your tears of supple bliss, too.
after some time, the extent of rick’s care for you deepened — in a way he hasn’t cared for anyone else before. not since lori. it’s not platonic . . what he feels for you, nor is it . . familial, comparatively to the way he regards maggie, beth, and carol. it’s something deep and vast and, what he’ll admit, a bit twisted. it’s this feeling that has him leaning his face down an inch, he needs you to really hear him when he casually asks, “you wanna die?”
your eyebrows furrow during the same moment your lips twist. it’s as though you tried to keep your pout from deepening by biting down on it, however, given your efforts it still pushes through.
“at any point in time you can be alone in this world. tyrese is not going to be there to protect you — not glenn, not carol, not me.” his voice stiffens with each word. you hiccup on a sob when he’s forcefully turning your body back towards the tree. “arms up. eyes focused. stop crying.” his hands move quick. he forces both of your hands on the polished, wooden handle of his gun and with his own covering yours while standing directly behind you, muscled chest to your back, he makes you pull the trigger.
you jolt in his arms, fighting to pull back, to drop the gun, but rick stands firm. he isn’t necessarily the tallest when standing beside the others, nevertheless, he rears over you by almost ten inches or so. it’s easy to keep you where he wants you. you’re sniffling as his bristled chin grazes against your temple, “we can be here all day, honey.” drenched in a thick, southern twang, rick’s voice seems to always emit past his soft, pink lips through a drone. you loathe that even during a moment like this, it renders your body almost entirely still.
“rick, please.”
a long, slow suck to his teeth. “not lettin’ you go another day without knowin’ how t’protect yourself.” another shot. with his expertise, it lands about an inch above the center of the X. the recoil of the gun expelling the bullet from the barrel has no effect on him yet it forces your shoulders to jerk back into his chest. “. . . look who we have here.”
emerging from between a few trees is a walker — a male. he drags a twisted leg behind himself as though it weren’t a limb but a heavy piece of luggage. decayed guts and blackened blood drools from his unhinged jaw. he weakly groans and does his best to snap his rotted mouth in your direction, bloodshot eyes fixed directly on you enclosed within rick’s arms.
his hands release yours.
“right in the head,” he whispers, his words a ghosted breeze against the shell of your ear. “jus’ like i taught you before, huh?”
“ ‘m scared—“
the walker’s lessening the distance between the three of you. akin to mordant silk, sharp yet irresistibly smooth, rick’s voice drifts within the canals of your ears, “—you either shoot or you die.”
your heart’s pounding. sweat lathers your palms. rick has taken a step back, leaving you completely on your own. it’s not like you haven’t heard it before — the sly complaints of you never going out on runs, how you stupidly clam up each time a walker’s within eye distance of you. rick pities you, maybe you’re starting to even pity yourself. before all this you were mommy’s little girl. father walked out about a year after you were born and from that day forward, it’s always been her, you, and your brother. neither of them allowed you out on your own and since losing them to the dotage of the living dead, you began to find it feasible that both were aware of your more . . . delicate soul and it’s why they kept you screened away within your cottage’s four walls for most of your life.
“shoot it, ( ❤︎ ).”
with a tight squeeze of your eyes and head turn, your index finger constricts the trigger. you hear a final snarl then a culminating thump of a weakened body collapsing onto the marred earth below.
you’re panting, you realize. as though holding a gun and shooting it had taken a lot out of you — it did. with the bared view of a rotten corpse laid out only inches away from your feet, you’re quick to stumble back, and push the gun into rick’s hands, beginning your trek back to the prison.
“wooaah, woah, mm-mm.”
rick’s arm is around your midsection, pulling you back his way. “i wanna leave,” you mewl, feet blindly moving with his as he starts to walk you deeper within the grove of trees. even while upset, your body reacts to him — you let him push you where he wants, pull you back into place, it’s conflicting. “rick, please, c-can, hic, we go? i don’t wanna shoot another one.”
“you don’t have to,” is his gruff response. “not for the rest of the day.”
there’s a cabin you’re all aware of . . . or rather, the couples are. it’s small, more of a trailer than anything but, there’s an old couch, a barren mattress, a dining room table — you and rick have only been inside once before a few weeks ago. a sloppy make out session it was and only that. he made you hike the entire way back towards base with of the seat of your panties soaked entirely through and gluing slick against your pulsing cunt. it had been cruel, a punishment, really.
after a scope around the perimeter and thorough check for walkers, he’s pushing you past the front, screen door and slamming it shut. “c’mere.”
you wear a pair of tattered, denim shorts and a white, lace trimmed top, printed with strawberries all over. he makes you pull your shorts off. panties, too. those dirtied sneakers are to remain on, rick figures you might as well ( never know when you’re going to need to get the hell out of dodge anyway ), and forces your chest against the sun warmed wood of the dining room table. with you bent over it, he soon kicks your legs further apart ( those old sheriff habits die hard and all ). “did i . .” you’re pouting, he doesn’t need to see it. he hears it loud and clear in your voice while those hips of yours slowly shift from left to right. it’s an absentminded thing you’re doing, clearly, nevertheless you’re still taunting him. “did i do somethin’ wrong, rick?”
jaw shifting, rick’s face is evenly blank as he stares at the smudged, white bow pinned within the tight coils of your hair. “now you know better than that,” he murmurs, letting his fingers dip within the valley of your back. “you know exactly what i told you t’call me when the two of us are in here.”
your hair rises at its peak with each slip of skin the dull edges of his nails drag against. “oh,” you breathe and let your eyes flutter shut. “mm, daddy.”
“that’s right,” he whispers, pushing the both of his hands up your sides. the front of his groin jostles up against your ass, forcing you to feels his gun holster and to shoot up on your toes when he suddenly gives a sharp thrust . . hard enough to make the table’s legs skid against the flooring with a loud clatter. “ ‘s what i am t’you, honey. know i ain’t gon’ ever put you in harm’s way if i knew you couldn’t handle it. now, you trust me, don’t you?”
his hands glide slow . . . up and down the length of your body. the palms of them are calloused from days and weeks and months of necessary duties needed for his survival and it feels good having them pressed against your thighs, squeezing your ass, rubbing your back. “y-yeah,” you’re nodding and pulling one of your thumbs closer to your lips to nibble on the nail. “yes, sir.”
“trust me wit’ your life?”
back down they go. he grabs the fat globes of your ass and with his thumbs, spreads them apart to get a good look at two of the world’s most finest, still living jewels. “t’take care a’you?”
you’re nodding — eyes closed, face stolid aside from the slight crinkle of your eyebrows, showcasing your ever-growing impatience. “ ‘course i do, daddy,” you’re whining and knocking your body closer back into his.
“yeah,” he tuts within a languid breath. you feel the shift in his weight, how he crouches down to get a nice look of your messy cunt. he regards the wispy curls, the ones more gathered around your hole are bonded together with slick and admires the way they slowly separate with the coaxing of his fingers when he pulls your lips away from one another. “trust me to make this pussy feel real good especially, don’t you?”
“unh,” you lift a leg, only to let your foot fall back down for a brattish stomp. “please. . . i do. yes. jus’ please?”
“ ‘m proud a’you.”
the praise is cemented with a slow, tongue curled kiss to your thumping clit. it’s heady and rich — your taste. with one swipe of his tongue, your syrup coats the entire breadth of it and he knows, that only after a few hours will it begin to eventually fade. rick enjoys it, even so. in a world where it’s considerably difficult to keep a picture of a lover in a locket or head to a jeweler to personalize a ring, this will have to do. your arousal coating the cavern of his mouth, buried deep within the ridges on the roof of it and between the porcelain of his teeth — this is what will remind him of you while he’s out on a supply run or when you’re fast asleep in a pen four doors down from his.
from your sweet, little pearl to your hole, rick snakes his tongue . . up and down, never drawing it back inside his mouth unless he feels your clit needing a hard suckle. his furred cheeks scrape against the smooth insides of your thighs. “did exactly what i asked . . . you listened well.”
you gurgle on some drool upon the sensation of his lips pinching your small, swollen clit. he pushes in deep. eats you slow. kisses your pussy as if it were another lover.
you’re whining, voice tiny — always so gentle and tiny when rick pulls his face back. specks of dust are visible within the gilded flares of sunlight pouring through from a nearby window. shards of them hit your skin, kindling the sweet, smooth brown of it almost gold. you’re flipped over then and there — back laid against the table, thick thighs thrown over the hills of rick’s shoulders.
“shh sh, i got you,” he breathlessly grunts within the glossy layers of your cunt. “yeah. i got you, baby.”
you’re so sensitive . . so tender, so frail — in every sense of the words. your tummy shudders each time the knob of his nose knocks against the pearl of your clit. you feel his hands squeezing at the doughy flesh of your thighs and each one is hard. they make you wince prior to your body unwittingly softening once more come him stroking his hands across the new bloomings of mauve and plum decorating your skin right where the pads of his fingers reside. “play with your tits for me,” he kisses the softest parts of your thighs, the insides of them, as his hands gently haul the neckline of your top down. “let me see you squeeze on ‘em, hm.”
your nipples are pinched between the pads of your fingers as you look down at him, watching damp, brown curls fall across his forehead into his eyes.
it’s all purely debauched. your body’s beginning to glisten with a thin coating of sweat, rick’s tongue is stroking, slipping, pushing inside — the table beneath you is sticking to your skin with all the fluids. it grasps onto it each time you move, complying to only slowly letting you go with each arched backed gasp you heave and push of your hips closer into rick’s beautiful mouth.
he isn’t a messy eater — he swallows and kisses and laves his tongue along every inch of your pussy as though he were cleaning you up. it’s you that’s the problem. you’re leaking . . arousal beginning to froth up and thicken into a cream the longer times ticks on by. your legs are flopped and hanging across his back. you can’t help crossing them at the shins, pulling him in as close as possible and locking him there when the both of his hands push yours out of the way to grab hold of the soft, full rounds of your tits himself.
it comes out as something similar to a soft snarl when he murmurs, “got a sweet, lil pussy ‘tween these legs . .” his breaths are thin and spent. “she’s jus’ fuckin’ perfect.”
you’re nodding — you barely heard a word he said, nevertheless, you’re aware that it’s praise. it’s always nothing but filthy, candy coated compliments rick rains down on you when his fingers or tongue is between your legs. “t-th, mmph, thank you, daddy,” you’re whimpering, muscles spasming when he gives a tight, firm squeeze to your breasts. “tongue . . wan’ it ins—ooh—“
he sheathes almost the entirety of his tongue past the hole of your pussy, feeling the folds of them part akin to a budding rose to welcome the treasured intrusion. it’s your cream he tastes. he slurps it up when he retreats his tongue back inside of his mouth to swallow, only to push it back inside of you again. rick’s dick is hard — he doesn’t think he’s been this fucking hard in a long, long time. when he pulls his face back, he removes his hands from your breasts to peel away the lips of your cunt. your clit twitches under his gaze — wet, hard, and thumping.
“mhm . . mhmm.” he’s nodding along to your sobbing and broken cries. they mingle well between the repeated, slick, trebled sounds of his lips pulling the bud between them to massage it with back and forth movements and let it go after a few seconds. he’s quaffing you down — every drip, every trickle, every gush. you feel as though your brain oozes out of your pussy too. you can’t form a single thought, words are completely gone.
it’s spinning — the world around you.
rick knows what’s coming. when your eyes slam shut and fingernails bore within the wood of the table to find a grip on, he’s shooting his hand up and shoving a couple fingers of his past your lips. pretty, high pitched weeps are muffled as your cum leaks across his lips and onto his tongue. “daddy,” the title is quivered past your plump, wobbling lips while your toes coil inside your shoes. lazily, rick’s tongue flows along the length of your pussy, sluicing her free from every drop of your sap until only his saliva is what remains.
“y’did good,” he’s grumbling while peppering tender smooches against the plane of your stomach that continuously caves in and pushes out with each gulp of air you greedily inhale. “you did real good, sweetheart.”
a sheet of warm tears overlay the sockets of your eyes when he reaches your lips. you’re a pretty, little thing — simply nuzzle into his touch when he gently cups the side of your face within the heavy paw of his hand. something glimmers beneath them, epic yet unsaid and gently, rick knocks his nose against yours. he lets the rounded tip of it drift along the round of your cheek, up towards your temple as his eyelids droop closed. the feeling of your body underneath his, arms draped across the back of his neck . . it’s calming. you’re calming. “an angel,” he whispers against your skin. “my angel.”
A selection of p!rn links, all sourced from twitter. Please make sure your logged in to be able to see! And as always, 18+ content so MDNI!
This time requested by/dedicated to my pookies @nogoodbee @ghoulishhx annnd @yur1addict. The gc loves some shane content and i love my wives to whoretown and beyond <33
Masterlist
Sneaking away with farmera!shane to the barn (facefuck/rough blowjob)
Slow sleepy tent sex (piv sex)
Shane's kind of punishment when you dont listen (wedgies/spanking)
Shane makes sure you follow the rules (ass/pussy eating/piv sex)
Lastly, (tw!! gunplay below!!)
Shane gets extreme and looses it when you put yourself in danger (Insertion of gun)
Super super open for more shane content, Drabbles/thoughts/link requests- anything!! Along with Rick, Daryl, and negan, shane is one of my favorite walking dead characters! <33
summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.
warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)
word count: 2.8k
a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.
if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.
since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.
everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.
daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.
there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.
no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.
and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.
he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.
so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.
then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.
his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.
he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.
it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.
he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.
when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.
your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.
but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.
so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.
fuck.
now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.
in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.
he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...
wait, no.
what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...
...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.
in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.
and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.
that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.
if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.
he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.
there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.
in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.
it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.
daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.
just palming himself wasn't enough.
he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.
he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.
oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.
and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.
knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.
in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.
he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.
a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.
oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.
and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.
and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.
all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.
in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.
his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.
then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...
you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.
“u-uncle daryl?”
[PART TWO]
a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)
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