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grimesgirll · 1 hour
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Taylor Swift, imgonnagetyouback
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grimesgirll · 2 days
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one man’s trash is another man’s treasure
i kind of love how shit tumblr's search feature is. You look up something about DIY battlejacket patch tips and when you get your results you start scrolling and pass like, Rick Grimes Breeding Fanfiction. Stucky X Reader Mafia AU Cockwarming Fic. Shit w so much abstraction that you're not even sure if it's fanfic anymore. And you're not interested (or perhaps even a little scared) but you know what? I would never have known that existed otherwise. It's like passing a weird store at the mall and staring inside while you walk by.
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grimesgirll · 3 days
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Shoutout to my baby girl Daryl Dixon for being the first man to look cute in cut off sleeves
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grimesgirll · 4 days
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from the moment he saw you, shane knew he had to have you.
in his arms, behind the barn, alone in the woods, in his tent, in his bed - even if it’s the truckbed.
shane couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
maggie’s sweet little friend from down the road.
“we grew up together,” maggie’d proudly proclaimed when pointing you out to the survivors at first. then waving you over from your dutiful grooming of herschel’s horses to say hello.
the irresistible piece of ass sauntering around the farm like shane wasn’t struggling not to pop his zipper every time you bent over.
you stir up his thoughts more than lori nowadays.
the woman had easily cast him to the side once her husband had come back into the picture. shane had been sore about that - dejected even but he couldn’t find himself caring for long with you on his mind.
how could he even fathom her when you’re out there tending to the horses in those tiny shorts every morning?
when you triggered the most sinful, debauched scenes in his imagination. rag dollin’ you onto the bed. spreading you open for him. whisking you away to the woods only to pull your pants down and be greeted by that sweet, tight, delectable country girl cunt.
and it’s not even one sided.
shane catches your eyes on him enough to sense far more than a friendly curiosity. he can’t justify or explain the looks he sends your way but neither can you. nor can the subtle touches or the way you squeeze in front of him everytime you need to get around be cast from his head.
this tension between the two of you turns every interaction into a guessing game. a game of chance whether or not you’ll escalate your behavior.
like when he’d locked eyes with you from across the room after downing enough whiskey to make rick shake his head. shane’s head spins and he’s worried he’s imagining what’s happening next.
traipsing over to the recliner, one could imagine his surprise when you took a seat as if you belonged there. shane would show you that you did. you belonged both on top of him in his lap, and squirming beneath him, just like he has you not thirty minutes later.
staring up at him, huffing and puffing your heart out on the bed maggie’d abandoned in favor of fooling around with glenn in the woods.
pretty little cunt is leaking for him.
all because he’d stuck a few fingers in you. needy little thing; he should’ve known that you would buck your hips into his face. it was no surprise when he’d felt you gag around his cock either. no way could he be surprised by that fantastic, squeezing motion he’d been imagining in visions of you on your knees for him ever since the group had arrived at the farm.
imagine your surprise when he’s recalling his dick from your mouth and flipping you from your knees onto your back. you’re just giddy, full of giggles and gin and tonic. the sexy shadow hovering over you and materializing those weaving lips, licensing them to wreak havoc on your unblemished, unmarred neck. if the farm’s other occupants weren’t aware of the deviously delicious tension between you two, they would be now.
“wanna hear you say my name, pretty girl.”
you whine, only curtailing those coos and complaints when those deep hazel eyes fall on you again. “please, shane!” you dig your fingers into his shoulders to emphasize the point.
“what do you want, baby? gotta’ tell me so i can help.”
you’re sending him an incredulous look that’s instantly replaced with textbook longing, a yearning that shane knows is coming from the unfettered want just pulsing through your pussy. tight on his fingers, you’ll be even tighter on his cock. he just wants to hear you beg.
“tell daddy what you want, pretty girl.”
“i want you inside of me, shane. like now.”
a wolfish grin settles over him and grows gazing upon you all needy, dressed down, and desperate. color flushes your cheeks. the breath escaping from between your heaven sent lips comes out erratically, wavering like your legs beneath him. his grin only widens, “you ready for me, baby?” he asks.
you nod your head vigorously, as if one bob offbeat and he’ll change his mind. the arms wrapped around him only further emphasize your willingness, the wetness grazing his boxers not withstanding.
just like when shane had been working outside in the heat mending the fence, your eyes are on him. except for now, that dazzling stare is turned dazed by the view of shane’s hard, veiny cock lining up with your slick entrance.
it’s a tight fit - shane knew it would be. but he fits. every inch of his cock inside of you, and when you’re full to the hilt, you have no complaints. only moans and groans like a fucking walker.
stuffed full of shane, he can tell that you haven’t had a good fucking in a while. you wouldn’t be mewling and reddening his back with thin, little lines if you were getting taken apart this well every night.
at first it’s exhilarating being inside of you. shane’s still scrunching his face up in twisted pleasure at how you grip him. tighter than anything he’s ever experienced. wetter than a rainstorm. prettier than any woman who’s crawled into bed with him before.
all of these thoughts race through his head as he begins to pick up the pace and follow your frenzied lead. you’re already throwing your head back. taken by the way he pushes and pulls.
“god, you’re so deep,” you gasp against him.
“does it feel good, honey?”
“yes!”
he knew the answer already but the opportunity to fuck it straight out of you is one he won’t miss. you squeak his praises with each thrust and soon he’s singing yours.
“good girl.”
“my good girl.”
“fuck, this pussy is too tight.”
“fuck, i needed this.”
“i wanna come.”
you break his train of thought with the whine that has him almost finishing in you right then and there.
“how bad do you wanna come, baby?”
“so bad, daddy.”
the brunette grunts. “fuck, honey, that’s so fuckin’ hot of you.” his lips rain down on your collar like the most fervent firebomb. “so fuckin’ naughty of you.”
“shane, i love how you feel,” you breathe.
“you like bein’ full, baby? gettin’ stuffed full of cock so good that you can’t even think no more?”
you’re nodding your head like an idiot. drunk on the contrasting praise and the insults veiled as compliments, posed as praise, as if shane fucking every naughty noise out of you was the result of some subtle superpower.
“gonna fill this pussy up until it’s overflowin’. just the way i know you want it, good girl.”
you clench at that praise.
shane smirks, huffing against your neck. “you like that? bein’ my good, perfect girl for me, huh?”
“yes, shane,” you’re blubbering now.
“you ready to come, baby? ready to clench all over this cock?”
“mhmm!” you insist, tugging him closer. “please, shane! you need to fill me up!”
the ferocity of your demands catches him off guard. “need to?” he chuckles. “how bad do you need it, baby?”
“so bad!” you’re answering through half-shuttered eyes. they blink open to prove their case to the man fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. “please. i want you to come in me, shane.”
the floodgates break lose just hearing you beg his name and just like that, you’re getting what you wanted.
“fuck, pretty girl you go ahead and come on this cock.”
like it was an order, a weight compresses his cock. convulsing and canting into him, your legs are shaking as your pretty little pussy clutches his member as if it could get any closer.
gummy walls close in and clench in ecstasy around shane’s cock. soundtracked by your yowls and his heaves, he fucks you hard and fast through both of your orgasms. warmth consumes you with the feeling of shane letting go. you’re coming an “ah” at the sensation. so satisfied that you’re whispering not to worry about a towel for now.
even to prevent a mess on your best friend’s bed.
the post climax haze washes over the two of you like a monsoon. wrapped up in the fuzzy feelings still, you’re cuddling closer to shane, nearly purring when he’s enclasping you in his arms. his nose is flush to your neck when he breathes in your sweet scent and hopes by the end of the night you’ll be smelling like him. he wouldn’t trade being here with you right now for the world.
maybe he’ll have to beg herschel to stay a little harder.
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grimesgirll · 4 days
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Give me an apocalypse like this please
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grimesgirll · 5 days
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grimesgirll · 5 days
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what if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?
guilty as sin? - taylor swift
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grimesgirll · 6 days
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rickyl x reader but with rare jealous!daryl
daryl shouldn’t be seething at the sight of rick’s head in your lap.
there’s no reason at all he should be thinkin’ about skinning his best friend. it’s jealousy at its finest.
he can hear merle now, taunting him. he wonders if his brother would call him a “fuckin’ pansy” or a “pussy” first. fuming inwardly all by himself on his recliner. the piece of furniture begins to feel like an island. it’s even worse imagining he’s just watching you and rick.
once upon a time, daryl got a kick out of seeing you get those pretty, big brain thoughts fucked out of your head for just a moment while rick splits you open. there’s something in seein’ you all fucked out, thinking about fueling the fire between your legs only. the legs that daryl often threw over his shoulders, diving tongue first in your paradisal cunt. that would be before rick rolled his way in and insisted he be the first to stuff your tight, yearn slick pussy.
merle would rag on him for that.
“aw, poor cucked, fuck,” he’d try to stifle his laugh but end up roaring in laughter.
daryl does the same thing he did when his brother was alive and ignores the thought. the thought of you can’t be banished from his head though.
no, not when you’re running your hands through rick’s hair and looking down at him, lips moving in sweet muted conversation that daryl is too green to comprehend. he’s feeling selfish now and wishing you two could go somewhere alone.
moments alone with you hit different now. they’re rare but they exist.
like after he and rick spend the better half of the night taking you apart from the inside out, and you and him sneak out to the porch for a cigarette once rick’s fallen asleep.
sometimes daryl thinks rick sleeps worse than judith - the sheriff is basically an insomniac without you. you’re the miracle cure for the horror induced nightmares. it’s like a good spooning with you clears his head, but daryl can’t really fault rick for that. he does however absolutely loathe the sixth sense the constable has for when you’ve strayed away from his arms in the night.
the man’s head is swimming at the thought of you in his arms when there’s a knock at the door.
your glinting eyes are rolling but you’re calling out for your guest to, “come in!” rick’s scowl couldn’t be larger but he fixes his face once maggie comes into view.
maggie looks between you and rick, even sparing a glance at daryl before attempting to stifle a laugh and clearing her throat. “i’m sorry to interrupt, but deanna needs you at her house to discuss important matters.”
you feel rick tense beneath you. barely able to contain your own pouts, you gaze back up at rick and he takes that as his signal to connect your lips one last time. shining under the living room ceiling lights, the two of you mash wantonly wetted lips. lost in each other, you don’t feel the pissed off red rock across the room.
finally breaking apart, you whine and rick almost scolds you, wondering if you have any respect for maggie’s image of you. when he glimpses over your shoulder and catches sight of maggie’s grin, he’s smirking. daryl wants to go out into the woods and shoot something.
“well, duty calls.”
rick’s rolling you off of him, leaving you with another breathless kiss and nodding daryl’s way.
daryl struggles to maintain a cordial face. this doesn’t go unnoticed by rick, who would’ve asked what was up with his typically mellow friend had he more time. the younger man’s more than relieved to see rick and maggie meandering out the door.
“dare’.”
damn, he almost forgot about you.
blue irises meet your dilated centers. the darkened, passion cast pupils beckon him to resume where rick had left off. a hand pats the patterned sofa.
that stirs him from his moodiness - slightly.
you’re assuming your position in his lap once his ass hits the cushion. hands gently wring around his neck until you’re sat firmly on top of him, gaze unmistakable.
“what’s goin’ on with you?”
startled, his breath hitches in his throat. his adam’s apple throbbing uncomfortably peaks your attention. you frown at him until his pink lips move slowly.;
“i feel like i haven’t even seen you lately, baby. and we live in the same fuckin’ house.”
your face falls at the words. “really?” you ask, wanting him to go on. the distraught look painting your typically sunny face has him not wanting to, but he does because you asked.
“you’re always on him, he’s on you. you touch me too and i know you love me. i know you like goin’ out in the woods with me but you feel so fuckin’ far away when you’re right there.”
“i’m so sorry, dare’.”
he’s quick to stop you. “it’s not your fault, baby, it’s not rick’s either-,”
“-no!” you interject, grinding down onto him by accident, eliciting a groan from him which you quickly apologize for.
daryl slaps your fleece covered ass lightly. “don’t apologize for being fuckin’ hot, baby.”
you giggle, leaning down to kiss him. he’s slowly but surely fading into this fairytale kiss you’re bestowing upon him until he hears another apology on your lips.
“baby, it’s okay.”
“no, it’s not.” you’re almost in tears now. puffy lips quake and purse. “you should never feel that way.”
“it’s fine, hon’, i feel better just telling you, an’ gettin’ it off my chest.” he assures you, playing with the top of your fleece shorts.
your eyes trail down to the drawstring of your shorts, and you wipe away a tear, revealing a yearning smile.
“would this help?”
daryl suddenly rolls into you, pelvis pistoning against the pillowy fabric of your shorts. he shrugs. “i don’t know.” he grunts. “maybe.”
you laugh. angling your hips, you dial up the pressure you’re coasting against beneath you when you come closer. daryl straightens to meet you for a kiss, succumbing to you, immersed until you whisper against him, “c’mon, i wanna feel you inside of me.”
daryl raises an eyebrow. “baby, i haven’t stretched you out.”
you shake your head, laughing. “you and rick already took care of that last night. you could stop fucking me for three days and as long as i’m wet-,” you get a blushed out look on your face. “-which isn’t hard around here.”
your lover’s face turns cocky. “you like being ready after being stretched out by two cocks?” pride laces his question. rick could irk him but he did love sharing you with his best friend more than anything.
that pretty little head nods up and down like it’s obvious.
“you gonna take me out and sit on me, baby?”
you’re nodding even more obediently now. falling into the instructions that have your pretty little clit swelling beneath your bottoms. that sends your hands racing to tug down daryl’s jeans, circling your hips as well to quickly spare a hand and work down your shorts. the sight has daryl straining.
“don’t make me wait, you know i can’t,” he complains with a kiss to your neck.
“mhmm,” you hum in agreement and tug down the waistband of his underwear, allowing him to help you with your peach pantone panties.
you involuntarily lick your lips upon seeing his gorgeous cock. the gigantic head primarily has your attention. has it always looked this big? you wonder. you want to take it into your mouth but the urge to give daryl that comfort he deserves has you hovering your already slick pussy above his hardened cock.
all at once, you let your hips descend and the first inch or so of daryl disappears inside of you.
“damn, girl.” the sensation has him crooning and singing your praise as you waste no time rocking up and down to develop that sloppy wetness on him - like you’re greasin’ a fuckin’ pole.
“mhm,” you whine. daryl’s awestruck face, scrunched from how tight you are despite your words, suddenly clears any stress or unease. he’s loving this, you remind yourself. an idea fills your head and before you know it, your begging for a hickey.
“huh?”
“a hickey!” you groan, bouncing with your hands firmly on his chest.
“then c’mere, baby,” and daryl’s clutching you down towards him as soon as you lean in. “i’ll mark you up however you want.” those thoughtful lips imprint into your skin immediately.
you gasp and wriggle against his loving mouth. he feels so wonderful, playfully bruising you with light scrapes of teeth and a roving tongue so well that your thought almost gets fucked out of you.
“want you to mark me up for when rick gets home,” you tell him, panting and squirming with pleasure on top of him.
length brushing against your walls which are flush against him like quicksand, those words are dangerous. he does his best not to fuckin’ jackhammer you to oblivion just at the thought of rick comin’ home to you all purple from daryl’s mouth - the mouth that was already obsessed with your pretty girl clit and taking a vacation between your legs.
“yes, whatever you want, baby.”
“ah!”
you’re not ready for the bite that isn’t as light as you’d expected.
“so tight on me.” daryl chuckles, suckling on the sensitive skin. “felt you clenchin’ like you’re ready, baby girl.”
“does my pussy feel good? squeezin’ you?” you ask, eyelashes fluttering.
daryl almost finished in you right then and there.
“course it does.” he replies without missing a beat. “what kind of question is that?”
the answer and the pace daryl is adopting has you seeing stars. heat is what you plunge into as you slide up and down on daryl. he’s dragging you up and down against him, hands burying fingernail marks in your soft hips while he fucks up into you and worships your shoulder.
the bite to your shoulder is what sends you tumbling into the tirade of pleasure that’s your orgasm.
on the living room sofa, you gasp and cry, tears falling into daryl’s hair as he takes a tit into his mouth, biting down. it’s a soft graze of cautious teeth but you yelp, startled by the pleasure and the spurting of warm come in your tight little cunt.
foreheads bowed against each other’s, you both find a rhythm in your breath - and each other’s lips again.
it’s when you and your lover are unsurprisingly making out again, once you take just a moment to breathe and pull apart, the question’s blurting from your lips;
“you know i love both of you, right?”
daryl softens beneath you. the hands on your waist rub languid, lazy patterns as daryl nods at you. “i do, baby.”
the twinge of a smile is on your lips until you’re suddenly remembering how you got to asking that question and straddling your dare’ like this in the first place. “but you shouldn’t feel that way.”
daryl’s shaking his head, ready to tell you that it’s fine, he’s fine but then you’re saying;
“how could i ever make it up to you, dare?’”
a million possibilities filter through his mind at once. there really isn’t an apology he won’t accept from you.
“how about a hunting trip? just the two of us.”
“i love your mind, baby.” he grunts, bucking up into you with that seemingly impatient, girthy rod.
you giggle in triumph, letting a pretty grin overtake your face. “alright now, back to where we were, huh?” you bear down to capture daryl’s mouth in a kiss, tonguing your way inside for just a brief moment before parting lips. “rick will be back from watch in an hour. how many hickies do you think you can give me before then?”
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grimesgirll · 6 days
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i love you, its ruining my life
fortnight - taylor swift
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grimesgirll · 6 days
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feeling like nick ready to go hang with some walkers everytime i put on my aha + bha peeling mask from the ordinary
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grimesgirll · 7 days
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they shake their heads sayin’, “god, help her” when I tell ’em he’s my man
i can fix him (no really i can) - taylor swift
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grimesgirll · 8 days
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watching ftwd is crazy because i’ll come up with a solution for a situation their group is in, then I’m immediately like no! that’s stupid, that’s silly. they wouldn’t do that. then the show goes and does it!!
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grimesgirll · 8 days
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the muse that is taylor swift has taken me. her new album, the tortured poets department, spurred a whole bunch of song-inspired walking dead fic ideas in me. all of which would include smut.
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grimesgirll · 8 days
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somewhat obsessed with the idea of wearing rick’s boxers.
it’s like second nature to you. it has to be.
after every time you slid into bed, every time rick and daryl strip you of your own undergarments, every time they fuck you dumb, everytime rick maneuvers you into your position bundled against his chest, you’re wearing a pair of his boxers.
the two had been surprised at first when they found you face down on the bed after a long day in nothing but a tiny tank top and rick’s blue and white striped boxers.
it took everything in them not to pounce on you right then and there. but when you woke up, you were more than happy to fess up to stealing rick’s boxers to wear as shorts.
rick could barely contain himself one afternoon in alexandria. you were taking judith on a wholesome stroll but you were wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts with a soft, white long sleeve and one of rick’s white button ups thrown on. later, he had to explain to you that he wasn’t snubbing you when you caught sight of him and tried to wave him over, just trying to keep his zipper from busting.
you had just laughed and quipped that they were the perfect bottoms.
from then on, rick found his boxer shorts going missing; on runs, he’d found you in the men’s underwear section, stripping down to try on a pair of striped ralph lauren boxers. that’s how the two of you ended up sweating and shamelessly blushed out on the cramped car ride home.
the rose painting your countenance couldn’t cease because you knew you smelled like sex. rick too. from the creamy ring you’d left around his cock as he lifted you off of him and onto the mahogany sales table, you knew you two had overdone it. with the wide block of time you had today to secure supplies, rick felt free to fuck your pussy twice, filling you up enough to have you seen stars on the sales floor.
all because you’d styled his underwear as shorts.
daryl teases his friend about it.
“can’t even wake up without seein’ her in ‘em and gettin’ hard.”
daryl’s a hypocrite however.
even the woodsman isn’t immune to your figure in those boyish bottoms.
it’s twenty-five minutes into your small game hunt when daryl’s hands are in your boxers. you had actually wanted to catch a rabbit or some quail, but once your boyfriend’s fingers are between your folds, you can’t find the will to complain.
the two of you start with him holding you against a hemlock, arms wrapping around you while he fingers you nice and slow, boxers down around your ankles. as he massages your plush walls, daryl counts how casual you are about going commando as one of his blessings.
then it turns. then suddenly there’s a pine needle in your mouth. you spit the green thing out and try to brace yourself against the forest floor. it had happened so fast; his tongue tag teaming you with his fingers to crack you open like a safe in record time. then you were face down with nothing but a denim jacket quickly strewn beneath you.
you love when he or rick spring this kinda thing on you - it’s spontaneous, wild, a little risky in all the right ways. yes, most nights you’d prefer to be rolled up into a blanket burrito with your boys and a glass of wine but the adventures like this really do something for you.
pupils expanded, your chest is heavy when daryl’s the first to come out of your post-romp fog and collect your boxers. your legs are still shaking when the fabric touches your skin.
“daryl!”
you’d protested when the man began to pull up your boxer briefs. full of his cum, you want to clean up before you soil your bottoms but daryl disregards the swats to his hands. slightly annoyed, you hurried ahead of him through the tract of woods back towards alexandria. it’s fine. he just enjoyed the view of your ass.
complaints crawl out of your mouth as soon as you’re in the door and you’re haphazardly hanging your rifle on the wall. daryl brings in the rear behind you while you’re stomping up the stairs to rick.
your chocolate curled lover is taking off his watch, ready to drop it into the ceramic dish on the dresser when you appear next him, shimmying down your bottoms in a huff.
“hey, darlin’,” he greets, expecting more than a scowl from you.
“hey,” you reply curtly, face still in a pout.
“-make sure you don’t take off those boxers, baby-,” daryl stops dead in his tracks at the sight of your bared pussy in the bedroom lamplight. rick’s also taking it in, eyes trailing from your waist to the trimmed bush, and the puffy pink pussy peeking out, now leaking with daryl’s sticky cum.
you bend over to pick up the soiled shorts. “you’re not the only one who likes these,” you point out.
blue eyes narrow. but before he can give you any lip, you’re giving him not one, but both of yours. smashed against your mouth, rick’s tongue delves between those pillowy lips while walking you towards the bed where daryl’s waiting to situate you on his lap once more. daryl’s antics weren’t enough to turn off the blazing furnace between your legs. no, your temper can handle a few more rounds. it’s not hard when your mind paces back to the eye rolling, all consuming inferno that had cyclones through your core.
they trap you in a kiss. sandwiched between both of their hard ons, you’re shifting and grinding in each direction.
“thought you were pissed off with me,” daryl breathes into your ear, fingertips skimming your waist.
you snort, leaning back into him to grant full access to your bared neck. without hesitation, he’s licking a wicked pattern up the column of your neck. “dare’,” you sigh. gasp after gasp, you melt into his touch.
daryl’s hands are beneath the fat of your rear already and all of the sudden, one of rick’s fingers has snaked its way down to your clit. the fervid flicking against your ardor flush tissue culls any anger you could have towards the two men. you can’t even think about holding a grudge once rick gets a finger into you. at two fingers, daryl’s kissing you with the ferocity of a wildfire. three fingers inside of you and you’re babbling;
“rick, faster, please.”
“what was that?”
“please - faster, can you please?”
the grin on his face is as wide as the pacific. his lips turn upwards into a sly smile. “you want somethin’ a little faster, darlin’?” you shake your head as if it’s obvious. he hmmphs. “you oughta’ sit on daryl’s cock.”
you can’t imagine a world where that’s an unpopular idea.
back onto daryl you go.
those hands at your hips come in handy; daryl raises you a few inches once rick’s removed his fingers. eyes focused on rick and the way his mouth closes around one pruning finger. sucking it clean while daryl’s tip brushes your slick entrance. any yearning radiating off of you can’t be hidden. that kind of heat and wetness down between your thighs is no lie.
so a hiss is to be expected when the muscled man wiggles his way into you. rick is saving a mental image of you - adjusting to the familiar stretch of daryl. your blush doesn’t ease once daryl works another half inch inside.
one moment you’re trying to process daryl’s cock as it’s suddenly seated in you to the hilt. the next rick catches your gaze again. this time he’s doing more than teasing you, taking advantage of your parted lips to invade with his tongue.
“rick,” you mumble against his lips.
“you gettin’ close, angel?”
“should feel ‘er,” daryl rasps. with each thrust of his you’re clinging to rick. “so fuckin’ tight like you didn’t get this perfect pussy fucked in the woods.”
“that’s where you guys went?”
your mischevious grin is hidden in the crook of rick’s necks. the telltale tightening around daryl’s length is all consuming. your grin turns into an open “o” shape when daryl drags across your cervix. sensations from your convulsing core are consuming him too.
that same lust from the woods washes over daryl like the tide and you’re the moon, pulling him in and leading him to crash into you. usually this is rick’s wheelhouse, but one glance into daryl’s darkened pupils and you’re ripped from rick. on top of daryl’s lap, you’re wrapped in his arms, bouncing up and down on the rock hard cock beneath you. he sets the pace while you can only claw at his chest. he returns the favor and reaches forward to palm your tit, relishing in your sweet moans when he rolls a hardened bud between two fingers.
riding him on the bed is such a break for your knees compared to the forest floor. gyrating your hips activates not only the core that keeps you fit but the molten hot bundle of nerves at your core. daryl ruts against you deliciously to deliver just the perfect level of pressure.
rick can’t help but be bewitched at everything unfolding on the surface of the mattress. daryl’s length disappears inside out of you, reappearing with each erratic movement of your hips. there’s no reason to be jealous but if looks could kill, daryl’d be dead simply for the privilege of burying himself inside those heavenly walls.
meanwhile, heat bursts down below like a mini neutron star collision within you. forehead cast with sweat, the energy is fading from your movements as you messily move your pelvis to brush against daryl.
a “fuck, baby,” escapes from his lips and you’re done for. and so is he.
shooting into the sheets and collapsing by your side. you’re prepared to slide into daryl’s embrace when there’s suddenly a familiar feeling breaching your bared pussy.
nails dig into your hips and daryl’s back at it again - lapping his tongue up and down your slit. you were thinking that you two would at least catch your breaths but daryl’s taking no breaks. rick isn’t either.
in true rick fashion, he’s tapping your lips with his impressive cock. how can you say no to that?
you open your mouth and moan around his cock once you feel those devious fingers in your hair. it’s like that sense of overwhelm’s been replicated again. tongue against your clit and yours on the underside of rick, you never imagined your afternoon going this way. all this thanks to your little fashion trend.
“princess, your mouth feels amazing.”
you bob your head in appreciation. just like daryl’s taking care of you, you’re taking your time swallowing around the man in your mouth, treating him to the tight embrace of your throat.
“you like gettin’ a cock down your throat while daryl licks you stupid?”
“mhmmm!” you nod forward onto rick.
as soon as your moans reach daryl’s ears, his tongue’s kicking into hyperdrive. goaded by your delightful little whimpers, daryl begins swabbing a vicious pattern across your folds. the redneck alternates between racing over your sopping tissue to flattening that tongue and saddle you with a finger.
“ooommph,” is the only sound that comes out with rick’s steel hard cock down your throat.
spit slick, rick throbs in your mouth. that painful hardness he’s enduring is granted some sweet relief by your hollowed cheeks. you don’t stop there. driven by the lust addled, cock crazy part of your brain, you’re fully sending rick down your airway. breaths come briefly when he lets you up for air or to howl or cry, “dare’!”
right on time, your core is heating up again. the kiln inside of you scorches. neutralizing you, the ecstasy of another orgasm has you nearly folding into your leader. the blue eyed sheriff even leans back, tugging you up by the hair to keep you from actually choking on his cock. daryl’s diligent puckering around all of your important parts is overwhelming you against, a strategic hand on your clit as well.
as if you were all in sync, rick comes in your mouth first, fingers weaving through your gossamer locks while your thighs quake. you gag at first, before swirling your tongue under the twitching cock and swallowing it all. like a good girl.
once rick’s coming undone, daryl continues swirling his tongue around you. your pussy weeps for him. it contracts around his tongue until even rick’s raising his eyebrows at the vulgar slurping sounds filling the room.
“dare’,” you whine.
“gonna’ be a good girl and come all over dare’s tongue?” rick teases.
“yes, please!” you beg, banging a fist against the sheets.
“you gonna’ let daryl taste all of that perfect pussy?”
tears well in your eyes from the overstimulation but you nod as enthusiastically as possible. “pleeaase!”
you don’t have to ask again because you’re too busy arching into your third orgasm of the day. clenching and unclenching, your insides flutter. “ah!”
“so pretty when you come, baby.”
you’re dissolving into rick’s touch as your climax rings through your cunt. starry eyed and panting the pleasure out through your lungs.
you could fall asleep right there. and you do.
it ends as it always does.
following the flush and the lips leaving the surface of your skin, you feel a familiar fabric traveling up your thighs and double kisses mandating that nap that had been on your mind. the bed and the cozy comfort of sleep swallows you whole. rick too. he can never get close enough, not when you’re wearing his boxers.
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grimesgirll · 9 days
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being punish by rick & daryl, maybe for being a brat and going against their rules
“this is so elementary, rick.”
“yeah? and so is behavin’.”
you arch and whimper when another particularly painful swat lands against your bottom.
“but you seemed to miss the memo on that.”
the ricktatorship may be over but breaking one of rick’s golden rules results in corporal punishment. the only difference is that this time, rick isn’t just lecturing you but bending you over and none other than your daryl backs him up in his correcting of you.
you’re deliriously wet feeling his erection beneath you. it turns you on to no end knowing that you could squeeze an orgasm or two out of your lovers, “proving a point.”
rules are rules.
and rick and daryl declared that you can’t leave the gates until your concussion’s healed up.
at the tail end of a weekend run, you had the misfortune of running into a walker and being body slammed into the pavement of the hardware store parking lot beneath you. after a visit with denise determined that you’d acquired a light concussion, you were immediately instructed to take it easy, given some pain pills, and sent home with rick to draw you a bath.
your ex-sheriff had been so tender stepping you into the bath with him, spending enough time bathing and relaxing the tension in your muscles and below your concussion in your neck. he’s even sweeter toweling you off.
that’s why rick is beyond furious to find out that you’ve run out to the local big box store to comb for back inventory with sasha, aaron, and eugene.
“you were supposed to be here,” rick huffs. “healing. but no. you had to go and be stubborn.”
“disrespectin’ doctor’s orders,” daryl chimes in.
you let out a whine in disappointment, dejected that your younger lover won’t meet your doe eyes or talk rick down. daryl deferred to rick, if not out of reverence for your leader, then because he couldn’t help but want to see what happens next. he could try but he’s not immune to the mewls coming out of your honeyed lips or how your watery eyes have his pants suddenly feelin’ a little too tight.
tonight daryl won’t be saving you. why would he? you’re wriggling onto rick, wet little thing. why would he stand in the way of you getting stuffed full of cock just the way you like it?
you’re not quite there yet.
annoyed grievances float through your mind and out your mouth. just as they had earlier, your vexed complaints have rick tensing, rolling his eyes at you. just like you’d dismissed him initially once you’d pranced through the door with arms full of scavenged finds.
“my concussion’s healed,” you insist, still struggling on top of rick but not enough to actually get yourself anywhere. “there was no reason for me not to go.”
“uh uh,” rick hums and takes your chin in his hand, craning your neck back to look into his eyes, still irate, not yet succumbing to the sight of you on his lap like this.
“rick,” you’re protesting. you turn your head to daryl, who’s standing and observing the scene unfolding. “daryl,” you pout once he catches your gaze. “you know i was feeling better.”
“but you’re bein’ an asshole, baby.”
“just like rick - ah!”
“now what was that?”
now you don’t just feel rick’s sturdy hand against your ass but the lash of his leather belt.
“fuck!” you moan, wincing as a second strike burns not just your bottom but your core. your eyes flutter back up to rick. “you’re so not being fair right now.”
the ex-sheriff just shakes his head at you. “rules are rules,” and you’re writhing beneath the impact of another blow to your reddened rear.
“you like that, honey?” rick questions. “you like gettin’ spanked and not listenin’.” his grip loosens on the belt, dropping it from one hand to delve fingers first towards your dripping heat. he smirks at you. “knew i felt somethin’ wet my pants.”
it’s teasing - not even a punishment anymore, just gloating when he raises a glistening finger to the light.
“you always love this, don’t you?”
the frown you’re sending daryl for calling you out doesn’t stay on for long; rick abandons the belt turns you upright, situated on his lap before he plunges his middle and ring finger inside of you.
your face scrunches with surprise and softens, tensing again when he kneads your walls open. that pulsing pressure that had come to life as soon as rick had you bent over his lap is finally coming to fruition. every curl of rick’s fingers has you groaning like a walker.
“gonna spend a lot of time stretchin’ you out tonight, doll, but you’re still gonna need to learn your lesson. rules are rules.” he emphasizes his point by picking up the pace, earning purrs and pants from you.
“what’s my lesson?” the question comes from your lips, heavy with breath. the smirk you’re finally indulging daryl in invites him close enough to thumb over the fabric of your top.
“wanna know what your lesson is?”
you nod. the younger man’s eyes cloud with lust at you finally shuttin’ up and listening.
“you need to take care of yourself.”
rick accentuates daryl’s point with a grip on your hips and a beckoning finger against your plush interior. “you said your concussion was healed but you shouldn’t be pushin’ yourself like that.” he expresses in words, eyes softening. “we get worried ‘bout you.”
the fact that they may just be overly protective had crossed your mind. perhaps.
“‘you sorry for worryin’ us?” daryl’s on the bed, boots off and a hard on in front of you.
no response comes from you until rick’s working one out of you. the fingers dragging against your plush interior thrust further. your mouth opens in shock when a third finger wedges it’s way into you.
“yes,” you breathe, locking eyes with daryl. “i just thought you took care of me already.” your pants are rocky but the meaning you put into each word is unshakeable. “i don’t need to be on bed rest for a week.”
“yeah, yeah,” rick gruffs into your ear. you shiver when you feel his lips on brushing against your ear. “i don’t think you would’ve been complainin’ if we would’ve spent less time letting you rest and more time doin’ this, sweetheart.”
and he’s right.
one arm wrapped around your midsection, rick anchors you to him to rock you in time with his fervent fingers. one head nod from the man to daryl has him tugging off your top. the light squeezes to your chests and you’re basking in his touch. that nod might’ve been synonymous with daryl tripping every wire of pleasure your erogenous zones have to offer. and your favorite, talented mouth is puckering around your puffu nipple.
it’s like your night flashes before you when you come. you struggle to connect how you went from first being face down in the comforter to gushing all over rick’s thick fingers.
daryl is right there to steal the sweet sounds from your luscious lips, locking those velvety soft love vessels with his.
the whole thing has rick growing in his boxers. even as your cunt clamps down around his fingers, you cant and buck down into the denim of his straight legs. another look between your lovers and you’re right back where you started. you’re giggling as you bounce on the mattress from rick manhandling you into position.
now for the fun part.
“now come over here and show daryl how you’re supposed to use your that pretty mouth.”
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grimesgirll · 11 days
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Roelant Savery (1576–1639), Vase of Flowers in a Stone Niche (detail)
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grimesgirll · 11 days
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shane walsh
shickxandria
maggie’s friend
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