#twd au
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Forest guardian
Daryl Dixon x reader
You plan a week long vacation to a luxury cabin. Luxury is nowhere near what you find.
Yet another AU, mentions of canibalism, also Merle is gross.
The bald man behind the counter of the shoddy store was probably the grossest dude you had ever seen, cleaning what looked like blood off his hands while he kept so openly staring at your tits in the low cut top and following you around with his intense gaze as you picked up some items from the racks. "Dontcha worry, doll. Had ta quit skinnin' rabbit when I heard ya come in. S'legal in these 'ere parts." He reassures you, and after you paid you sadly needed to interact with him even more, seeing you weren't familiar with the roads and needed help finding your destination.
"Oh, tha' cabin's over 'ere on tha' road. Can't miss it, sugar." He doodled a little house on the map for you. "Gotta park righ' 'ere." 'here' was marked with a small X. "Road ends, rests'a sand path, too narrow fer cars." With a filthy grin he pointed at the map and marked the location of the place you rented to spend a week in nature to heal. You needed to be away from society for a bit and booked this crazy cheap place in the middle of the woods close to a gorgeous lake. It surprised you there weren't any more cabins like that around, the area was so nice it would make a perfect luxurious vacation spot. Still, that gross man's voice rung in the back of your mind. "Now dontcha go swimmin' in tha' lake, missy. Pretty lil' thang like yerself'd gon' get snatched up ne'er ta be seen 'gain."
On the way to the cabin, following the route you were suggested you passed the lake and watched the sun cast a beautiful gleam over its surface.
'This really is too gorgeous to go swim in.' You mind wondered to the cabin as you closed in on its location, turning the last corner before the road cut off and your small path through the tree line became visible. Not wanting to walk the path twice you stacked everything you took onto your body and started to lug your stuff forward, seeing you had to round the cabin to make to the front door.
The cabin that looked nothing like the photos on the website.. "Oh of course I got catfished by a fucking cabi--"
Stopping dead in your tracks you dropped your bags and sent yourself forward, up the wooden porch and down on your knees.
A man laid passed out in the door opening of the cabin, his breaths shallow. Every item he wore was covered in dried mud and stained to hell and back. A dead rabbit laid beside him, probably dropped from his grasp when he went down. Kneeling closer you looked him over for and wounds and found a deep gash on his side when you turned him over, and saw what looked like a stab wound on his upper arm.
Underneath long, greasy hair there was a large gash on his face, long healed over and leaving an angry scar over an empty eye socket and one side of his mouth was torn open.
You wanted to stare but needed to help this man first, going to find your first aid kit and cleaning the wounds after dragging him onto the cot in the corner of the ratty cabin.
"I'm sorry." You murmured at the man who didn't even hear you as he was out cold. Applying the disinfectant to his wound had you wince along with the soft twitch of his body and a wave of panic washed over you.
What if he woke up, with you hovering over him? You had spotted the throwing axe strapped to his waist, along with two large hunting knives and suddenly prayed you wouldn't end up on the wrong end of those.
When he didn't wake you continued to clean and bandage his arm, and thanked yourself for throwing a pack of butterfly stitches in your bag and carefully stuck them over the cut over his side with one hand as the other held it closed between your fingers.
Wrapping his arm was easy, but having to unroll the bandage around his waist was proving to be a challenge, having to shove your arm underneath his body to pass the bandage to your other hand multiple times.
The invasive movements had moved the man's body and it surprised you he hadn't woken up by the time you tied off the end.
With his wounds patched you could only sit around and wait. You got scammed by a too good to be true offer on a cabin and the first thing you had to do after getting creeped out in the shop was patch up a stranger's wounds yourself because the area had no service.
Curiosity got the best of you after a moment and you went to snoop around the place, passing time by going through cabinets and drawers.
At the third drawer you opened you felt like you stumbled on a goldmine. A black wallet and chain, and a passport laid pushed towards the back.
"Daryl Dixon, huh." Both the ID and the passport belonged to the man, and other cards in the wallet held the same name. It had to be him.
You gave the pictures a long inspection, turning to go compare to the passed out man behind you.
Instead, before you got the chance to turn a hand came and snatched the items from yours. "S'mine, thank you very much."
With a shriek you turned to face the voice and were met with the iciest blue eye you had ever seen.
The open drawer dug into your back as you tried to move away from him.
With the stabbing feeling your gaze turned back to the drawer, hoping to close it but something familiar caught your eye. So instead you dug your hand to grab at a flyer, and with it pulling out a stash of attached papers that scattered over the floor and made Daryl take a step back.
The paper in your hands was filled with the same photos as the cabin rental showed. "The hell?" It was a sales flyer, it told about the building plan for a large amount of cabins surrounding the lake. You looked past the flyer to the floor, bending down to look at the various news articles about the area.
"JUST ANNOUNCED: NEW LUXURY VACATION HOMES." That one spread information about the upcoming tourist attraction.
A smaller piece announced a delay due to "disagreements from locals." You thought if Daryl and the shop guy were those locals.
Then a large, gruesome front page spread.
"MASSACRE AT BUILDING SITE. PROJECT CANCELED."
The title did the article no justice, the first sentence warning people to stop reading if they were easily nauseated, and continued on to go into detail of the events where a whole building crew was murdered mere hours after their scheduled arrival at the site. The murders deemed "too gruesome to share in more detail.".
More articles of missing campers and words of the mysterious serial killer in this area were scattered around and that sudden panic from earlier arose again.
You were dead. It was a fact at the time you first thought of it and it was still a fact now that you saw all this. With shaking breaths you slowly looked up at the man still standing before you.
His hand rested on the handle of his hunting knife, fingers not yet curled around it. His one eye staring, clearly deep in thought.
"That's you, right? The killer?" Your fingers rested on a smaller article, looking further up at his face.
A quiet acknowledging grunt left him as he turned around and ignored your further words.
Daryl's mind raced with opinions, facts and other voices that all called out different things.
He killed trespassers. Humans were bad for these woods, they shouldn't exist here. Except for him and his brother. But this one healed him, patched up his wounds and made sure he didn't die. You weren’t here to harm..
His wandering mind had led him outside, lighting a cigarette and deciding to return the favor and rummage through the bags you brought, fishing out a tub of cookies from your backpack.
From just outside the doorway you heard the familiar click of the tub clasps opening, followed by a loud crunching.
“Huh. HEY!” Getting up from the floor you made your way over to the man and snatched the box from his hands. “Those are mine, thank you.” Your tone mocked his from before and Daryl grunted in protest.
“Why’re ya ‘ere anyways?” You huffed in response, a hand on your hip and pointing the one with the box at where he still sat in front of your pile of bags. “Obviously I came here on vacation, but I guess I’ll be driving home again since I got scammed…”
You had moved to start packing up your first aid kit and moved over to stuff it back into your backpack but pausing, and handing the kit to Daryl. “Why?” He spoke around lungfuls of smoke before blowing it out away from you. “Got ‘nough a’those layin’ ‘round.”
‘Why’re ya tellin’ her tha? She saw yer a killer. Why aint she dead yet?’ The voice in his head blended with his brother’s, scolding him like he was so used to, but still not believing you were harmful enough to kill.
Besides, you knew how to tend to wounds which was useful.
Hell, even going out to find his brother to bring him an outdoor oven and ingredients to make those cookies and keep you around just fir those was enough to dispel the voices.
You were standing in front of the storage space at the back of he cabin and you were worried. Why were you following this killer and not just leaving your stuff behind and running to your car? You’d never speak of this and find some excuse on the way home. But still you kept standing there next to him as he opened the door and showed the huge collection of useful stuff. All taken from trespassers.
“You’re killing me aren’t you?” The words weren’t supposed to leave your mouth and a hand clamped over it immediately after, eyes on him in fear as tears threatened to spill due to the panic you were causing yourself. But then again, would it really be that bad if he killed you? No more shitty jobs and cheating boyfriends. No more crying yourself to sleep over bills and food.
“Yer dif’rent.” You barely caught his words when he disappeared into his stash and throwing a soft fuzzy blanket at you. “Feel tha’ one. Ya like tha’?” You hadn’t throwing the item until it hit you in the face, grabbing to catch it before it hit the ground and being taken off guard even more by how soft it was. It calmed you, rubbing it against your cheek. At the sight of the tab on it you gasped, taking a closer look at it and staring back at Daryl, your previous worries entirely overridden by the shock. “Why do you have a hundred dollar blanket in your shed?”
He only shrugged. “Sum whiny whore had it. Guess ‘er boyfriend thought campin’ at a pretty lake was gon’ get ‘em laid or sum’n.”
“Bitch was fuckin’ disgustin’.” A shudder ran along his spine at the memory of cutting her open. “All ‘er curves fake, no meat left on ‘er bones tha’ was edible. Damn fillers leakin’ out of ‘er flesh over the fire.” He just rambled about it like it meant nothing to him at all while you stared. He ate them? You were getting hungry just now but that feeling faded just as quick upon hearing him talk.
He saw the disgust on your face and decided he needed to shut up. “Ah, sorry. Ain’t normal people talk.”
His apology really came out of left field and had you swallow a giggle, but failing and sputtering out a laugh. “Why even are you telling me all this?” Despite your laughs it was a serious question. “I mean, what if ai leave and call the cops on you?” Not that you were going to, but you got curious and had already decided you were fine with however this day was going to end. If this guy as gonna roast you over a fire then so be it, you weren’t scared anymore.
“Who says yer leavin’? M’keepin’ ya ‘ere with me. Yer dif’rent.”
Different. There it was again, he’s called you that more than once now. “Who says I want that?”
“Y’aint runnin’ yet.” He put his pointer fingers together in a counting gesture. “Ya patched me up. An’ yer not scared a’me ‘n ma face.”
It’s true. When you first saw his face it shocked you a bit, but mostly you were curious how someone could survive a wound like that. You nodded thoughtfully, not entirely aware you did so and earned a smile. “I aint plannin’ on eatin’ ya. But ya gotta respect ma rules or I’ll change ma mind ‘bout it.”
“If you’re talking about eating people you better end me now, there’s no way I’m doing that, ever.” You held your hands up in defeat with the blanket tossed over one shoulder. “Go ahead.”
This time it was Daryl’s turn to laugh. A deep, rumbling laugh that had you squint at him. He laughed?
Your calm around the offer for him to kill you right where you stood surprised him. You really didn’t care if he took you out. He respected that, so as long as you were fine with his ways he had no reason to get rid of you. “Dontcha worry yer pretty lil’ head ‘bout tha’. Aint gon’ make ya eat ‘em. ‘Nough small game ‘round ‘ere fer ya. I’ll keep ya fed.”
Oh. That wasn’t so bad. Yeah, rabbits and squirrels weren’t part of your menu now but as long as he wasn’t feeding you humans.
Talking about eating made the grumble in your stomach make another appearance, this time accompanied my the unmistaken noise of hunger. A huffed laugh and a nod towards the front door had you both back inside where Daryl still had his rabbit he had started skinning at his makeshift kitchenette across the room rom where you sat on the bed eating your leftover sandwich.
You observed him from a distance. How he skillfully took apart the animal and separated the meats while keeping an eye on his fireplace in the meantime.
“Hey, c’mere.” Without looking up from his work he waved one hand above his head to get your attention. He made sure you got the pieces you wanted, and prepared them to your liking. The way he was roasting them over the fireplace was almost like an inside barbecue.
“Smells nice.” You had moved to sit next to him beside the fire that roasted your dinner.
You ate together and spent the time after in quiet togetherness. Daryl cleaned up the rabbit’s leftovers and spent some time doing god knows what outside while you stayed in. You sat on the bed fidgeting with your clothing and the soft fuzz on the blanket he gave you. For a short moment you wondered what you were still doing here, why you hadn’t gotten up and started walking away, but now your mind was blank, staring mindlessly at the floor. You didn’t even notice Daryl come back in. He just suddenly appeared in your view, dropping a stack of bedrolls and sleeping bags at your feet and beginning to roll them out. When you realized his implications you let yourself fall. Ack with a sigh. You really had been here since early in the afternoon and still hadn’t made an effort to leave and were about to spend the night in a killer’s cabin in the woods..
You wondered if all these setbacks in life had officially driven you mad.
After you offered to take over from Daryl to “make your own bed” he only scoffed and tapped your ankle to make space. “Makin’ ma own bed ‘ere. Ya keep the cot, s’fine.” You went back and forth a bunch of times but he kept insisting you kept the bed. Why was he so kind?
You tossed him his pillows and got a quizzical look that followed you as you went to retrieve the ones you brought from your duffle bag at the door. With an understanding grunt he moved on, unzipping a sleeping bag and laying it over the bedding and left through the curtain beside the kitchenette.
You were about to lay down and zone out when he walked back through the curtain, ducking b something out of one drawer lower than you got before when you got there and move back, keeping what was in his hand hidden from your line of sight, but you caught something in his mouth for a second. “Wait. Hold up.” Oh fuck. His mind told him he fucked up by grabbing that magazine. You were gonna ask what he grabbed and there was no way you needed to know what he was planning to do behind that wall. You sat up and watched as he peeked his head from behind the curtain to look at you with a raised brow, faking his best annoyed look. “Hmm?” With a toothbrush between the scarred end of his lips he waited for you to speak.
“You brush your teeth?” You were seriously confused now. “You, a serial killer living in the middle of nowhere, brushes his teeth.” You pointed at him, hand palm up in disbelief. He rolled his one eye at your wording and took the thing from his mouth and pointed it back at you in an almost threatening way. “Yeah, so?” He spoke around a mouthful of foam. “Ya will keep up too when ya gotta yank out a rotten tooth ‘n can’t eat nut’n but soup fer weeks.” He scoffed at your assumption of his hygiene just because he killed people. “Gotta keep clean ta eat. Can’t eat, can’t hunt. Can’t hunt, can’t keep them woods ‘ere safe.” His tone was serious, he meant every word and made it clear these woods meant much to him. Enough to kill for. After he was done he turned away again and the room fell silent once more, taking it as your cue to crawl under the soft blanket Daryl gave you and sleep for the night.
#sometimes I write#twd#the walking dead#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl#twd daryl dixon#daryl x reader#twd au
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for the twd au literally just jeno's protectiveness and survival instincts (i love manly men<3) and just the raw love you have for each other and soft tender touches arghhhh 🥺🫶💝💞💕💓💖
twenty-eight.
that's how many walkers jeno had managed to put down, all without you having to lift a finger.
it wasn't that you were scared; the gun on your hip and the knife in your hand were testaments to that. no, jeno just wouldn't let you take them down with him.
the now empty warehouse air was thick with tension as the two of you stood amidst the aftermath. jeno's broad shoulders heaved with exertion, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. his gaze, fierce and unwavering, scanned the surroundings for any lingering walkers.
"you alright?" he grunted, his voice low and gravelly.
you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "i can handle myself, you know..."
jeno's expression softened, but the fire in his eyes still burned. "i know you can. doesn't mean I want you to." he pulls you against his side after sheathing his blade. "plus," he flexes his bicep, "gave me a good workout. starting to feel like i'm losing strength.."
a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you leaned into him. "well, if that's the case, maybe i should take more of the load."
he shot you a playful glare, a hint of a smile breaking through the seriousness. "nice try." he presses his lips to the top of your hair, "i'm not gonna let anything or anyone touch you. i swear."
#just something short and sweet <3#jeno x reader#nct dream x reader#nct twd au#twd au#nct x reader#nct fic#nct drabble#nct dream fic#nct dream drabble
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Still working on this TWD Ninjago AU! Things are just a bit slow since my main interest atm is TWDG, but I'll try to get more out as fast as I can!
I think the part I'm most excited to get to is when I introduce Harumi into the story. Just gonna go ahead and 'spoil' it a little since the possibility of me actually getting that far with telling this story is low, so
Harumi isn't evil in this AU, she's just a little kid like Lloyd who had watched her parents die from the outbreak. She's taken in by Kai and Lloyd's current group of Dareth and Ronin, but she seems to be terrified of them, even when Lloyd brings it upon himself to try to cheer her up, trying to play with her. Hell, even Ronin tries to cheer her up, having specifically scavenged things for her, surprisingly. She was too scared and stressed to care, though.
When Harumi witnesses another death for the first time again, she finally breaks down, Ronin being the one to calm her down with a story of his own daughter. Harumi reminded him a lot of her, and maybe that was the reason he felt so inclined to protect her.
Basically, Harumi and Ronin have a sort of 'Joel and Ellie' kind of relationship! Also noticed while rewatching SoG that Harumi's dad looks vaguely similar to Ronin, so that could probably make it even worse!!! Hope I can actually make it this far...
#ninjago#lego ninjago#ninjago au#twd au#lloyd garmadon#ninjago lloyd#zane julien#ninjago zane#pixal borg#ninjago pixal
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(TWD) The Law: Daryl Dixon- Holy Innocence
Pairing: AU!Priest!Daryl Dixon x Virgin!Fem!Reader
Pov: Reader
Summary: You first meet Father Daryl while in confession, by the second time you go you can't help but expose your deepest secrets, and the third time Father daryl helps you with your secrets.
Warnings: Smut, AU, virgin! Reader, innocent reader, a teaching moment, dirty, rough, sex, pinv, unprotected sex, blowjob, (M Receiving) (F receiving), a little dirty talk, Masturbation, nicknames, Father Daryl kinda hot, confession, the church of god, godliness is next to cleanliness.
A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers, this came from watching the new AMC series The Walking Dead (Daryl Dixon) when one of the characters says that Daryl is a father Daryl from far away. (I don't really know how confession booths work, so work with me here)
WC- 13.1k
The Walking Dead Master List // The Law Master List
First Meeting
The pure girl had nothing on you. You were refined to the bone, with white lace on the edges of everything you wore around town. Your small town knew all about you. You were the good girl who worked in the soup kitchen and helped your mother with the PTA at your younger sister’s catholic school—the sweet girl with a good life ahead of her. You were adorable. There was nothing against that, and your parents were just so happy with how your life turned out that when one of the choir boys had asked to take you out for a church together, your parents had let you walk out of the house with the boy’s hand interlocked in yours.
That had been months ago. But every person has a different side, and that other side has made its first appearance in your relationship. You were sitting together on the loveseat in your living room. Bible study with your boyfriend while your parents were out of town. You’re so highly in tune with your reading of Leviticus that you first don’t notice the slight touch of his hand on your knee—pulling the cap off the highlight and holding it between your teeth. You read back to ensure it’s the line you want to highlight. The brush of his fingers on the tops of your thighs indeed should have pulled you from the page at hand, but it doesn’t, so he advances even further. You cap the highlighter and flip the page to make sure you haven’t caused a bleed of yellow highlight through to the next page when you feel the edge of your skirt pushed up past your thigh and a heavy hand resting on your warm skin.
You swallow thickly before gathering your voice, “What are you doing?” You ask, still timid, “Don’t worry about it, baby.” Your boyfriend mutters softly as he inches his hand up further; he’s nearly touching where your hip dips into your stomach. “You should stop that.” You say, “We are together, aren’t we?” He asks, almost sounding offended that you don’t like how he’s touching you. “We are together, but.” You close your bible with the bookmark as a reminder of the page you’re on and wiggle your finger in your lap. The shine of the purity ring caught the light of the overhead light and the sunshine coming in through the window. “Oh, the purity ring, I see.…” You think you’re in the safe at his words, but then he grabs your hand and slips the ring off your left ring finger. Letting it clang onto the side table next to him. “It’s off now, baby, so no harm done.” He murmurs into your heart. It sends a round of shivers down your spine.
You just get out of his hold, pushing yourself off the loveseat and standing with your hands behind your back. “I think we are done doing bible study. You should leave. My sister and parents will return very soon.” You blubber out. You are swallowing hard when he gets up with a rage you’ve never seen behind his eyes. You lick your lips and watch as he angrily shoves his bible into his backpack and walks out the front door. He was slamming the front door behind him. You stand there with shaky hands. Slipping your purity ring back on your left ring finger. You smooth your skirt and slip on your shoes before grabbing your keys and driving down to the church.
You need to go to confession and talk to your priest.
The drive to the church is a short one, having that you practically live right next to the church. You’ve been coming here for years. Good Word Catholic Church, your childhood church, and now the church you go to for confession. You’ve never been to the confession booth before, never really had anything to confess to god back. You were the good girl, the one that stuck to her road—towing both sides of good and evil, staying neutral through almost everything in your life.
You parked the car, turning off the engine. Were you scared to go to confession? Was it a good idea? Had your boyfriend been proper, if you had just let him… Your thoughts are drained out when your eye catches a new priest—bounding out of the side door of the church. Shaggy brown hair that looked like he hadn’t brushed it in years, a beard growing whiter by the second. Shaking myself from the thoughts of this priest, I finally manage to get the courage to get out of the car, slamming the driver’s door as I lock the car and walk inside.
A few pews have people sitting in them towards the back of the church. People sitting on their knees praying and hoping for the words they speak to god to become the much-needed reality to save their lives. Your small kitten heels click on the marble floor of the church confession booth. That’s what you’re eyeing for. You’ve never had to go looking for it, but you gather it would be in the front of the church, away from prying ears.
An older woman stands at the front of the church. Lighting a few small candles, “Oh sweetie, what are you doing here?” She asks. Her voice is calm, and she’s always been like a second mother to you at the church. “I’m looking for the confession booth?” You ask her, and the shock is visible on her face. She swallows hard as if pushing back what she wants to say. Pointing toward the booth, “You’ll take the first right and then a left, alright, dearie.” You can just imagine the rumors that will spiral around your church. “Thank you so much; I just needed to talk to someone who could help me with my sister’s issues.” You say the relief is also visible on the woman’s face.
Your sister was the trouble child; you only ever got one good kid, is what you had heard around town. She was a part of all the wrong things: boys, parties, and everything else that seemed to have a lousy mark stamped on top. “Well, I’ll pray for your sister.” You nod and thank her again as you move through the halls to the confession booth. But now that you’re standing infront of the booth, you’re starting to get worried; the hesitance is just on the nips of your heels. It told you just to get back in your car and drive home. Forget about all of it together. Forget how your boyfriend touched you, how much you liked it. How it had sent shivers down your spine, and you weren’t sure what it meant at all. You swallowed hard and opened the door to the confession booth.
The booth is small, no bigger than a phone booth you used to see has a young child. You sit on the plush multi-colored cushion, and the door shuts behind you. You put your pocketbook down on the floor. That’s when you hear the click of the other door before you say a word to the priest on the other side. You form the cross against your chest. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, and through the mesh window, you hear a heavy sigh. “Is this your first confession?” The man asks you, and it doesn’t sound like the regular priest you see every Wednesday and Sunday. You don’t ask the question that’s now poking your thoughts, “Yes Father.” You answer the mysterious voice on the other side of the mesh. “That’s okay. Do you need a moment?” The father asks you. You shake your head and then remember the mesh between you. “No, Father.” You answer him. “So tell me why you are here.” You swallow, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned; this is my first confession.” Your voice feels like it’s echoing in the wooden booth.
You twirl your purity ring on your finger. “I have… well, I need some advice, Father,” I tell the Father on the other side of the booth. He hums, “Tell me what worries you?” His voice is so soothing to the bone that I can’t imagine anything else. “I have been with my boyfriend for less than a year. He was so sweet and godly, but today… oh, Father.” You mutter over your words, “He touched me, and I… he took off my purity ring. I don’t know if it felt wrong and so right at the time. I think, no, I know that I’m scared. I don’t want to do anything wrong in God’s eyes. Please, I just need help with how I’m supposed to feel about these feelings?” You beg the Father.
He hums once more, and the sound calms you. Your ring still takes swirls and twirls around your left finger with ease. You worry for a moment when the silence is too grave for you. “Don’t worry about your purity; you will stay pure as long as you resist the urges that your boyfriend is pushing onto you. But don’t forget to trust in God’s plan.” The Father says gently. “Yes, Father.” You mutter, and before you can get up to collect yourself and your purse on the floor, the Father says something else that settles in your stomach in an oddly comfortable way.
“Before you go, Miss, I’d like to see you in my office after Sunday’s service. Don’t worry about repenting just yet.” His words tickle your skin in a new and exciting way you’ve never felt. You nod and gather yourself. You grabbed your purse quickly before leaving the booth and the church altogether. You barely manage to get to your car before the heavy breath you didn’t realize you were holding let go. That heavy sigh made your shoulder lighten.
His voice flits in your mind for hours after you visit the church. ‘Don’t worry about repenting just yet.’ It bounces from one side to the other. It makes you dizzy as you sit there in your kitchen with a glass of ice-cold water soothing you out of your thoughts. Your mother and father will be back with your sister in hours, so for now, you’ll push his words out of your mind.
You shift off the small bar stool and hop into the kitchen, ready to make dinner. At least once a month, you make your family dinner to show appreciation for everything they’ve done for you. You get to work immediately. You were slipping on your apron and tearing through the fridge for fresh vegetables and a good hearty piece of protein. It doesn’t take long to get in the groove of the night. And while you wait for the last of the dinner to finish in the oven, you even manage to set the table with the fine china that your mother and father had received on their wedding.
You even make a sweet treat for your family before they enter the driveway and park in the garage. Your mother is the brightest person you’ve ever met. Nothing dims her shining, happy light. The one that burns just like you in your chest. “Oh, sweetie, you made dinner for us.” Your mother says if she doesn’t know, it’s always on the same day. “And she even brought out the good china from the cabinet.” Your father adds. Coming around the island to place a sweet kiss on your forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He says warmly before setting his bags down at the bottom of the stairs. “It smells wonderful, baby.” Your mother mutters as she repeats her husband’s steps.
“So, what have you been doing while we were away?” Your mother asks sweetly before cutting into her food. The four of you sit around the table, mostly enjoying each other company. Your sister is the only grouch at the table. She’s the opposite of you, and sometimes you question if she’s even your sister; her only saving grace is the baby pictures in your family album. Black, filthy, and dirty to the bone. “I went to the church today.” Your mother lights up with excitement as she asks about people there who are her friends. “No, but I did bump into the older woman who lights the candles for afternoon mass.” Your mother hums, “What were you there for, darling?” Your father asks, his eyes boring into you.
“I went to ask the priest for some help. I just…” “For help with what?” Your parents ask in unison, worried about their first and best daughter. “I’m just getting a little worried about um…” your eyes skit over to your younger sister. She rolls her eyes. “Oh, sweetie. We know you care a lot about us, but let us deal and worry about your sister.” Your father says as his knife digs into the china, earning a slap from his wife.
--
Second Meeting
The full-length mirror on the back of your bedroom door shows your outfit off—the pink mesh flare of the sleeves and the pink bodice. The gold cross sits underneath the bow that is tied around your neck. Your hair is pulled up and away from your face, showing off the little makeup you’ve placed onto your face: light mascara and a tint of pink lipstick. You can hear your mother yelling from downstairs in the early morning. “Coffee is ready, and we are leaving in ten!” She screams from the bottom of the stairs.
You don’t scream back like your younger sister, her voice echoing through the upstairs hall. You grab your purse and slip on your small white kitten heels. Take one last look at yourself in the mirror before going downstairs. Your mother hands out a coffee as the three of you wait for your lazy sister. You can hear your father scrambling around in the living room, “Honey, where’d my jacket go?” He yells to your mother; she sighs and rolls her eyes with a faux annoyance. “It’s on the coat rack.” There’s a pause and a few loud footsteps before you can hear your father’s voice again. “Thank you, honey.” He says as he walks into the kitchen.
“Is she still not down from her room?” He asks us, “No, Daddy, she hasn’t come down yet.” He groans with frustration and walks out without another word. The loud, hammering footsteps as he climbs the stairs are my mother and I’s sign to gather ourselves before he can even come down.
Your mother takes one last sip of her coffee before rinsing her cup, grabbing her purse, and getting her coat. “Come on, honey.” She says to you. You repeat her actions, sipping your last coffee drop, grabbing your purse, and slipping into your black coat. Your father and sister both have the same look on their face. Annoyed, bothered, and irritated. Your sister is rolling her eyes with frustration.
The slam of both the driver’s and back passenger doors tells your mother that an argument was most definitely had. With that out of the way, the car is reversed, and your whole family goes down the driveway. The further you get from your house, the more the usual chatter between your mother and father begins. You aren’t listening, but the music fills the rest of the silence.
That is, until your phone dings within your purse. The smile on your face disappears; in large text, your boyfriend’s name is on your screen. You click on the text message and unlock your phone to see the entire message. Which is shorter than you think it probably should be. “Look, I’m sorry, but you’ve got to work with me here.” You roll your eyes. ‘Work with you like that will never happen again.’ You think to yourself; you scramble to finish your message as you see the car lot of the church just ahead of the stoplight.
–
It had only been two days after your family had come home, two days after your confession to the new and mysterious priest. Your boyfriend was back at it; it happened in your room this time. Somehow, it felt filthy and unholy. Not a bible in sight, not that there wasn’t one stuffed in your side table. It starts innocently, the knock on your door. “Hey, baby.” His voice is laced with sugar, sending a smile onto your face. “Your dad said I could walk up.” He says as he stands there at your doorframe. Waiting to be let in. You eye him up and down. A blue polo shirt, a pair of dark-washed jeans, and some black socks. You watch as he wiggles his toes on the hardwood floor. “Come in.” You say, opening the door and moving out of the way. He takes a seat at the edge of your bed.
He’s been in there once or twice, always with the door open. But now, with the door closing, he climbs onto your bed to sit next to you. It doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. It seems like hours pass between you as he sits there with his arms draped ever so nicely over your shoulder, legs tabled as you press your hand and head into his chest. The air is calm all around you. You can even feel a hush heartbeat, a slow and steady beat against your ear. The movie plays with the words filling the bottom of the screen.
Everything is copacetic. Nothing out of line happens as you give the remote to him to select a new movie. For a fleeting moment your mind travels to the week prior. Maybe his actions were one out of yearning. Perhaps it was just one little outlier in your relationship; everything is going on just fine, so there’s no reason to believe it would go awry. You snuggle deeper into his chest, breathing him in with every breath taken.
Then, the bubble you have so extensively created shatters like a stained glass window pane. All your thoughts pause, your mind frozen in the blimp of time, your heart skipping a steady beat with your breath. The hand resting on his chest so nicely is being picked up and transplanted. You barely even registered it at first; you focused on the movie. It’s not until his giant hand is pressing your smaller, softer hand into the fabric of his jeans. The zipper leaves indents on your skin. It doesn’t hurt by any means, and when you finally look away from the screen, the shock is written on your face. “What are you doing?” The beautiful glass wall you’d built was crumbing rather quickly once you made eye contact with him. An evil grin was present on his features, a different sparkle in his eyes—a wicked grin. Making you shriek and run away, or worse, not move at all.
“Nothing, baby. Don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart.” He muttered into your hair, never once looking down at you. His eyes stick to the TV screen, but when you try to move his hand away. The veins within his hands popped, and his grip on your hand worsened. “Don’t. Move. Your. Hand.” His words are sharp, and you know for a fact he means every single word, even if you weren’t not looking right at him.
“You can’t go running, Daddy, and you can’t yell for him to come up here. What would he think about seeing you with your hand halfway down your boyfriend’s pants?” His tone sets it all. Fear boils in the back of your throat as you try desperately one last time to pull your hand from his grip. He looks down at you for the first time. His eyes are dark, and the fear at the back of your throat comes up. Squeezing your throat, making you mute and malleable to all of his actions. “Unzip my jeans.” His voice is controlled and quiet. It sends an uncomfortable shiver down my spine, shooting throughout my body. “Be a good girl and do what I’m tellin’ you.” Your boyfriend’s demands. You swallow hard and wiggle your hand out of his grip, cold metal touching the tips of your fingers as you drag down the zipper.
The bulge your hand had been sitting over was even more prominent now. Hot even through the jeans and boxers that protect you from the inevitable, dangerous thing you are being pushed to do. “Now pull my cock out, baby, I know you wanna.” He whispers into your forehead. “What… I don’t….” The words get stuck—the air passing through your lips. “You don’t what? You don’t know how to jerk a cock? You need me to teach you, baby?” He sounds so cocky.
You don’t say anything, so he takes it as a hint. He moves quickly, shifting just enough to pull down his jeans and boxers. Then he manhandles you and places you on his thighs. You’re staring. What else does he expect you to do? “Oh, you like what you see. I knew you would like what you saw once you saw it.” Your thighs burn as you try to balance yourself upon his lap. He grabs you sweetly, cupping your much more petite in his large one. “We’ll take it slow, baby, I promise.” His voice is slick with honey as you lean into the touch of his warm hand against your skin. “Okay.” You whimper out, and he grins like the Cheshire cat. “I’ll take of you, and you’ll take care of me, right?” He asks you; you bite the inside of your cheek. You were trying to understand his meaning for the last time and nod your head.
It’s only until you’re walking down the stairs with him two hours that night that the horrible feeling begins to pit at the bottom of your stomach. You’ve done an awful thing. Your boyfriend had promised that nothing wrong had happened. Had you thought that because all you did was touch him and content that you were in the clear? But when he kissed your cheek and walked down to his truck, his words left no comfort in his wake. That crumbling sense in the pit of your stomach only grew as you washed your hands in the bathroom. The sticky feeling of his release is still all over your hands. As you slipped your purity ring off, the pit grew larger, threatening to swallow you whole. The banging on the bathroom door was the only thing that managed to drag you out of your quicksand thoughts. “Are you almost done in there? Mom said… oh you don’t give a shit, just can you move quicker.” You can hear your sister through the door and dry your hands off before slipping the ring back on and taking one last look at yourself in the mirror.
You don’t look any different, but the feeling in your stomach and mind has you feeling differently. You feel like the minute you get downstairs, everyone will know because, well, doesn’t Christ already know you’ve sinned?
–
This Sunday church service starts like any other, gathering with the many of you through the doors. Your mother sets her purse down as if anyone will steal her spot and goes to talk with her friends before mass starts. Your father does the same, gathering to speak with his golf buddies in a small circle. Your sister and you sit side by side in utter and complete silence. The squeeze of your mother and father alerts you that the service is about to start.
“I know I’m not your typical priest, but I hope I’m a suitable replacement. I’m Father Dixon. Most of you will worry about Father McPhobe; he has taken ill but is doing great. If you want to send anything to him, take that up with the director at the end of this service. Now let us get into today’s sermon.” The new priest spoke, his voice echoing off the walls. I opened my bible and went to listen. You heard your mother, for a moment, whisper to your father. “I hope Father McPhobe is okay, but I already like Father Dixion.” Your father hummed and looked down at his bible in his lap.
You don’t think about it now. It’s just muscle memory for you, the standing, sitting, standing and singing, the sitting. At the same time, you pray with your family, the collection bowl going around to collect for whatever the church is sponsoring, and the eventual blood of Christ. Regardless of sitting and standing, you always get up to take the blood of Christ. You squeeze past your sister and a few others before getting in line. It’s not until you’re standing in that line that the voice bouncing off the walls and stained glass windows hit you like a freight train in your mind.
It’s the same voice. The same voice from the confession booth. He knows your little secret and wants to see you today—your heart races against your breastbone. And when you’re finally in the front of the long line, the father gives you the cup, his finger grazing over yours, sending shivers down your spine and your sipping. His eyes never leave yours. “And the body of Christ, miss.” You take it and walk away. With every click and southern draw of his voice, it’s sure him. It’s him, for sure. You almost hope and pray and forget that he wanted to see you. He hasn’t heard you talk, so there’s no way he could know that it was you in the confession booth. You wonder if he even knows who you are?
That thought gets answered quickly as you gather yourself together—your purse in one hand and your bible in the other. Your family walks down the aisle towards the door. The priest, the dark-haired priest, is standing there, greeting every single person, shaking their hands, and introducing himself just a little bit more. “Father Dixon, that was just a wonderful sermon today. I can’t tell you how sad it is to hear that Father McPhobe is ill.” Your father’s voice travels for every ear to hear, and as you try to hide behind your mother and father, it’s hard not to be recognized by others who work at the church. “My wife will be talking to the director to get a fund together for whatever Father McPhobe might need.” Your mother grins and nods her head along with her husband. “And this is our daughter.” Your father says, dragging you from mostly behind him.
“You must be the one everyone is always talking about around here in all the support groups and even a part of other things. You are a true representation of a good Christian girl. You’ve raised her well.” Father Dixion says to your mother and father. Your mother bursts into a full grin, and your father laughs. “She’s the best.” “I hope you don’t mind if I steal her. I have a few new ideas concerning the Toys for Tots Christmas donation.” Your father shakes his head. “Just call me when you need me to pick you up, okay pumpkin.” He grabs your neck and kisses your forehead before ushering your family out.
Now, the two of you stand there, alone yet crowded by the people still around. “Father Dixon?” He hums as he grabs someone’s hand and shackles, thanking them for coming to the service. “We’ll go talk after I’m done here, alright? Just take a seat other there, and I’ll come get you when I’m done.” His voice is thick southern and makes you wable as you walk towards a bench lining a wall not far from him. Not only does the thick southern accent have you drowning in an emotion or feeling you’ve never felt, but the authority in his voice is no different than in the confession booth.
Time passes by slowly, but when the Father is done, you feel the smallest of taps on your shoulder. Bringing you out of your dozing-off state. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.” The father says, his hand resting on your shoulder. You look around to see that most people at the service have abandoned the main hall. “Everyone’s gone home?” You ask; he hums and walks towards the last two open doors. You quickly follow him down the hallway that turns into turns of rights and left until you’re closer to the staff section of the church. The walk back there is met with silence, neither one of you talking, and as much as you’d like to hear his voice more as you wander down the halls, you’re glad there aren’t words yet spoken.
Because the reality is you don’t know what you would even say.
When you do finally manage to get to his office, he opens the door like a gentleman, and you enter. “Excuse the boxes. I’m still trying to get settled.” He says with a chuckle. You take in the room, spacious and filled with a few boxes, most of which are already torn down and staked in the corner of the room. A large black desk sits in the back of the room, two chairs in front of it. You take it that he might have already had a few meetings. You’re too far distracted by looking around to notice that the Father had stripped himself of church attire or that he’s shut and locked the office door. Trapping you in the room with him, and no eyes on you.
“For a Father, you dress surprisingly casually.” The words blurt out before you catch them and shove them deep down in your tummy. He shrugs his shoulders. A pair of dark-washed jeans that hold everything in just the right place, and a white button-up. He looks like he just got back from a work trip. You suppose he did. “Is this your normal church attire, seeing as I haven’t seen you here for the past two weeks.” His eyes rake over your frame. You had hoped the dress would work, but you wish you had gone for something less eye-catching. You look down at the dress and smooth the fabric on your lap.
Father Dixon moves, resting his behind on the edge of the large desk, his ankles crossed as he stares down at you. His gaze was hot, and searing you. The silence grows, and of course, the father is the one to break it. “You don’t have to look so damn nervous and worried.” You hum, not listening to his words by any means. Relaxation doesn’t come easy to you as you sit there, fiddling with your thumbs, you get more and more nervous.
You sense the shift in the room as the Father moves, taking a knee in front of you. He clears his throat, “Listen to me, yeah, take a few deep breaths.” His face is so pretty this closeup. Fluttering lashes, a set of beautiful sky blue eyes staring deep into your soul, and a set of very kissable lips, so puffy and pillow-like from this closeup. His hands ghost over your own, and it only makes you want to grab it. To ground yourself, of course, not because you desperately want to feel the way his hands feel in your own, or anything like that. “Breathe with me, in and out.” He coaches you, taking a deep breath in with you and exhaling with you.
When he’s satisfied that you aren’t about to explode with anxiety, he gets up from his kneeling position, and grabs you cold water from the mini-fridge. “Gotta keep the lunch cold.” He says as if he needs to explain why he’s got a mini fridge in his office. You watch him the entire time as he bends over to grab the water from the bottom tiny shelf how he rounds out the jeans in a most perfect way. How long his large and imposing frame truly is. You have to move your eye quickly when he shuts the door to the fridge and swings around. You take the water from his hands, fingers grazing over the top of his hand. You swallow and unscrew the lid like you’ve been stuck in the desert without water for days.
He watches out; you can see him out of the corner of your eye. Biting his bottom lip, and for a moment, you wonder what he must be thinking about. You wonder what goes through the mind of a priest. You don’t get the chance to ask him because he’s back to controlling the conversation, not that you mind. Too fear you might stumble over your words without a topic already at hand. “You’re the young woman from the booth a few weeks ago, right?” He asks, you nearly squeeze the water bottle and get ice-cold water all over yourself, but you don’t Instead, you gag a little and cough before screwing the cap back on and staring up at him for the first time and really staring at him, not looking at him but over his shoulder. His eyes tear you apart in a way you’ve never felt before. You nod still not trusting your voice, and now your words.
“So everything has been going well since your last confession?” He asks, as if it’s a casual conversation you would have a person on the side of the street. You manage only a quiet mumble of a “Yes, Father Dixon.” He chuckles, “When it’s just the two of us, you can call me Daryl, ya know.” He says as he takes a seat beside you in the other chair. But he does light up at your response. “That’s wonderful, so I shouldn’t be hearin’ your voice in my confession booth ever again?” He asks, the authority all coming back. Demanding me never to come back, but something is growing deep down. It’s been growing for the past few weeks.
You smile, but it’s brought with a shrug of your shoulders. Making the see-through fringe crinkle as your shoulder bobbed. His brow raises like the Father is about to be disappointed, instead, he just wants to know what’s been happening. “So something did happen? For a sin for lying and one for whatever you’re about to tell me.” You swallow down hard, making your throat bob up and down. Your head shakes, as if you’re just a puppet on someone else strings.
“We… and he… it was going so normal and innocent, but then.” You fumble over your words. A large hand comes over to rest on your much smaller one. Rough calluses on the pads of his fingers and palm bring you out of your rambling state and gets your attention back on him. “You can tell me. Just take your time, sweetheart.” His nickname makes you shiver as you try to grow the confidence to tell the Father now everything that happened without the mesh wall in the way, and while his hand is wrapped in yours. Supportive or not, it drives you crazy. “He, um finished. Made it to the end of the line, all over us.” You’re trying your hardest not to cring at your own words.
Then, something passes over his face—hate, disgust, embarrassment. You can’t read him well enough to understand what it means, but he ends up repeating his previous words. “So one sin for lying, and another sin for whatever the two of you got up to together.” his voice is dripped with authority, and his grip on your hand loosens before eventually drifting away. A large part of you wants to drag his hand back, but you don’t. “I have sinned, Father Dixion.” You say, blush creeping up from nowhere onto the apples of your cheeks.
Father Dixon shifts in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and letting the almost consume you. “I don’t think asking for forgiveness will wash away your sins this time, sweetheart.” There’s that damn nickname again. It sweeps across your mind like a broom, leaving nothing behind in its wake except thoughts of what other nicknames he might call you. What nicknames you would call Father Dixon or Daryl? Or whatever you’re supposed to call him. The words rush from your mouth, “I’ll do anything!” A seductive smirk grows on his face, inching closer and closer to his ears. “Anything?” He echos. “Yes, anything. I promise anything.”
“Will you show me how he made you touch him? Because I know you didn’t start all that inappropriate touching. You’re too good to be groping men while behind closed doors, right?” Your eyes shift towards the closed doors, and you swallow hard. Your gaze travels back to Daryl, your priest. Father Dixon. The minute your eyes meet, the fear and worry wash away. Something about him is so dominating and calming at the same time; it confuses you and sets you on edge. “I’ll do anything if it will wash away my sins. I’ll do whatever you want, Daryl.” The minute his name leaves your mouth, his hands are on you. He’s up in a matter of seconds, and manhandling you to place you on the sturdy desk beneath you.
Your dress hikes up with the movement; Daryl slots himself between your open legs. Hiking up the skirt even further. “So what did he do first?” He asks you. The heat radiating off his body fries your brain for a moment before your senses pick up on the cologne that’s now wrapped around the both of you. He smiles like fall nights when the leaves are crunchy, and the sandalwood. It lulls you further into a calm state, “We were laying together on my bed; he was holding me so gently at first.” Your words come better now, and for whatever reason, you continue. “Then he was moving my hand, the one that was resting on his chest down further. Pressing it into his jeans.’ You swallow and watch as Daryl tries to mimic the movements.
He grabs your hand, dragging it down his chest and towards the buckle of his dark-washed jeans. You can feel the familiar heat, the tent in his pants more significant than your boyfriends. He’s slow with every movement. Taking baby steps. “Then what?” He asks once he’s trapped your smaller hand between his own and his jeans. “He pressed my hand into it; I tried asking him what he was doing, but he said he wasn’t doing anything.” He rolls his eyes but presses your hand softly into the tent of his jeans.
Voice low and raspy. “This right here is how turned on I am right now. The tent in my jeans right here. That’s the cause of you, sweet girl.” Darly murmurs sweetly into your ear. You shudder as his words send shivers down your spine, and his confession takes you aback. “What happened after, huh?” He groans out as your hand wiggles under the pressure. “When I tried to move my hand, he got angry, tried yelling at me, then switched tactics.” Darly stares deep into your ear, nearly noses brushing together. “Do you want me to tell you what to do now, too?” The question throws you way off bases nearly out into the empty field. “Yes, please, Daryl.” You say under your breath. He gives you a moment before pressing you for more information. “He made me unzip his, um… his jeans, and he called me a good girl.” The last part of your sentence is hushed mostly under your breath, but because the two of you are so close, it’s not that hard for Daryl to hear you.
“Did you like it when he called you a good girl? Do you wanna try and be a good girl for me?”He asks you, and without hesitation, you’re nodding. Pleading him practically to tell you that you’re doing a good job even if it’s him guiding your hand. “Well then, unzip my jeans, and I’ll treat you like a good girl deserves to be treated..” He whispers into your ear. His nose brushed up against the top of your ear. You do as you are told, unzipping the zipper. The only sound you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears and the erratic breathing of Daryl in front of you.
The weight of his cock sits heavy on your hand. His red and angry tip leaking pre-cum all over your fingers and hand. Your stare is serious yet it seems that Daryl isn’t bothered by it. The two of you are so close, somehow inching closer together. “God, you’re hands are so soft and tiny…” Daryl groans as you try to wrap your hand around the girth of his cock but fail. You barely manage to get your pointer finger and thumb to touch, and that’s just around the head of his cock. “What else did he ‘teach’ you, huh? Did you tell you how fast to jerk his cock off? Did he have to edge him until her busted all over your hand and pretty little fingers?” His questions are sent into a hot flash. You don’t want to remember what your boyfriend asked you; you care that right now you’re jerking off your priest cock in the church you’ve been going to since you were a child, and you feel no remorse at all. It makes you feel giddy, and with that comes more confidence. Fast and sloppier strokes to Daryl’s cock cause his head to fall forward. Bumping into yours, you breathe him in as if you’ll never get another chance. His grains turn into breathy moans as you swipe your sticky thumb over the tip of his cock.
“God, you’re so good at this, and I can’t… “ He bites his lip to cover the words at the back of his throat. Trying not to take advantage has turned into taking advantage of you. You seem to be playing along for now, and as long as you are playing, why not have fun with it as well? One of his hands falls to the wooden desk next to one of your hips. He’s desperately searching for a grip on something. “Are you gonna cum, Father Dixon?” You ask him, you’re soaked, dripping in honey. He nearly moans when your other hand rubs his balls, “Say my name!” He demands it of you, and you oblige happily. “Cum all over my hand, Daryl… Please, I want to see what you look like when you cum. Please won’t you cum for the innocent young women, Daryl.” Your words make your stomach do flips, so you can only imagine how to push him over the edge as he grains and tries not to shout your name for the whole church to hear.
It’s not til after Father Dixon had cleaned himself up and stuffed himself back into his jeans that he looks up at you. Still sitting there on the edge of his desk, you’re so fucking pretty. Innocent is wrapped around you like a halo glowing brightly in the background, but he fears he might have awakened something within you. “You’re a picture, a beaut.” He mutters under his breath as he presses his lips into yours. You frozen for a moment, and he worries he’s crossed over that line but not so many others. Then you’re melting. Melting into his lips, his touch, and his hold. You’re melting into him. Your lips are delicious, tasting of cherry lip smacker and a ting of coffee still left from your morning before church. Daryl tastes just as good. A minty freshness left behind, but there’s something else you can’t place your tongue on yet.
“What am I supposed to do now, Daryl? Have I been washed of my sins? And my boyfriend, what about him?” You ask the father; he closes his eyes and presses his forehead into yours. Thinking for a moment that seems to span on forever. “How about you wait for a good, right, mature man to come and take care of you?” he offers, “Someone who can take care of me, you say.” his words bounce around in your mind as you text your father that you’re meeting with Father Dixion had been eye-opening, and that you were done. Before Daryl allows you even to leave his office, “You should have my phone number just in case you need some help with the toys for tots,” Daryl says as he stops in his spot. When he turns, your phone is already out, and on your new contacts page, he names himself Father Daryl and proceeds to text himself. Daryl is quick to walk to the front door of the church. Waving at your father. “Come to me whenever you’re ready.” He whispers into your ear as you pass him and get in your father’s truck.
“That was a long meeting.” Your father comments, and for the first time since church ended, you look at the clock. Service had finished at noon, and now it was nearly three. You wonder where the time had escaped. “He just wanted to get to know me; I’m on all the committees here, so he managed to get a lot of information and help from me.” Your father grins at you. “You’re the best, you know that. The best daughter I could have asked for Pumpkin.” Your father’s words make you look back at your situation with the priest. Best is not what you would call it. Your sister wouldn’t call you that it, and neither would your mother, nor what you had done with the priest of your church. Your shrug the thought off, and think only of Daryl for the rest of the ride home.
---
Third Meeting
You aren’t sure where the sudden ache between your thighs is coming from you’re just sure that Father Daryl Dixon is all you’ve been able to think about recently. All you think about is the way his cock felt in your hand. The way it felt, how it pulsed in your hand as your words reached his ear with pleasure. How when you had finally arrived home you noticed just how wet your panties were, and wondered if there would be a next time.
Daryl had made it out to seem like there would be a next time, but you only wondered when you would be able to get your hands on him again. It seemed that your one ‘meeting’ with the father had changed your whole course of being. You had not changed outwardly into a different person by anymeans, but the things you thoughts weren’t what an innocent girl that went to church, and worked in the soup kitchen thought. Daryl, knowingly or not had changed you forever.
So, a few nights latter when the itch to feel the same feeling between your legs arised your jumped at it. Except what are you supposed to put into the google search engine. Confused you looked between your phones screen and your bedroom door, then back to your phone. Without a second thought you placed your phone down on your bed, and lifted the covers back to padd across your floor to your sisters bedroom door. You knocked gently before waiting for a response.
Nothing, so you knocked again. “I need to ask you something?” You barley whispered it through the wooden door. A few moments passed, and then it was opened. A begruded look on your sisters face. As if she was annoyed at your sudden knocking at her door. “What do you want?” She asked rolling her eyes at you. You cleared your throat. “I… how do…why…” You mumbling only caused her to get more aggravated at you. Grabbing your forearm she dragged you into her room.
In comparison her room wasn’t much different then yours. The shared bathroom between was the only room your both used on a daily basis but it was kept neutral. Posters, and othe things hung on the wall of her room. Darker sheets, and paint. “What do you need?” She asked again as she shut her bedroom door. You wiggled your nose trying to come up with some sort of words to express yourself. She stared at you for a long minute before shaking her head. “Are you in my room because mom and dad sent you in here to make sure I was still alive?” She asks venom laced around each word. “NO!” Shouting catching the both of you off guard. Then the words that you weren’t able to find earlier come all flooding out at once. “I wasjust wondering what that feeling you know between your thighs is? Also how do I get it back?” You asked her and as the words hit your ears and her the embarrassment came rolling back and the confidence went out the window. She gigglese and then laughs at you. Then notices that you aren’t joking or pulling her leg.
“Oh my god you’re serious?” She asks, you swallow and nod. “Oh you sweet child.” She mutters as she walks closer to you, your sister talks to you like your the younger sister sometimes. Regardless of that though, she sit down next to you on her bed. “What have you been doing with that boyfriend of yours?” She asls wiggling her brows at you, you shake your head, and start o confess to her but before you can get the words out of your mouth she’s ranting on about what you’ve got to do. “So you’re talking about that feeling between your thighs, that wet feeling that sorta aches right?” She asks just verifying, you nod unable to speak words at this moment. “So if you aren’ with your boyfriend then you can just look up something on internet. But make sure that your engine is on private, so if mom and dad go snooping they can’t that their perfect daughter is perfect anymore.” Your sisters last words aren’t filled with jealously or even envy. It’s almost sounds like she’s relieved that she isn’t the one that the sun shines on everyday.
“What do I search up?” You ask even if the embarrassment to crushing your lungs of oxygen. “Here I’ll show you.” She grabs her phone off the side table. Swiping through a few screen before landing on a search engine and then she clicks it over to private, “That button might be somewhere else if you aren’t using the same search engine as I am.” She notes, before continuing. In the private engine shetypes quickly, but the words are in big bold letters to your eyes. “Just look up porn, or maybe you’re an audio person they’ve got some of that too.” You sisters adds once again. Your cheeks feel as if they’re on fire, but for the first time you’re having a normal conversation with your sister its feels like years since you’ve talked like normal people to each other.
“Is this the first time we’ve talked in years?” You comment as you look around her room, she chuckles. “Probably.” Again she doesn’t sounds like she full of envy or that she’s even mad at you. “I’m just glad I’m not you.” Her words hit you in an uncomfortable way, “what do you mean?” You asks not fully understanding, “I just mean that when you fall, you’re going to land hard and fast on the ground that you’ve created.” You still don’t understand, “Mom and Dad seen a perfect girl, and when they learn of whatever is going on with you the world you’ve created for them of you is going to crash and burn.” It sounds like sound advice if you can call it advice. You nod, “Thanks.” Is all you say. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, before she groans out. “Get out of my room now, I was trying to sneak out before you rudely interrupted me.” You laugh and shake your head. “If you don’t tell mom and dad about me sneaking out I won’t tell them about our conversation.” She adds, “Sounds fair.” You say before getting up and walking out of her room.
The sun had already set byt the time you make it back to your bedroom, so you shift around to close your blinds. Before coming back to your door slipping the door locked before climbing back into your bed and grabbing your phone before getting under the covers. Your slick sleepwear isn’t that much of a barrier. As you settle under your sheet you get a message from your sister. “I’d wear headphones too, big sis.” She texts, sending a thumbs up before digging around in your side table for a pair of loose headphones to jack into your phone.
You follow your sisters directions with ease. Clicking on the search enegie, and maing sure that it’s in private mode before search those big bold words that are stucking to the back of your eyes. Your fingers are slowler then your sisters, but you get there all the same. You’re bombarded with images of naked women, and men. It causes you to panic for a minute, before you remember what your sister said to you. “Audio” That was also an option, so going up to the search engine of the dirty website you put something simple into the bar. “Audio for women.” It takes a moment for the spinning circle of death to stop spining but then a few video popped up. This time there weren’t naked women and men that filled your screen. Instead drawn images with much better working titles, with that one catches your eye.
You click the video the mans voice filtering through the headphones and right into your ears. It soothes you as his accent lulls you into a comfort. ‘You’re so wet for me love.’ the voice mutters into your ears. Starting off with no warning but it doesn’t matter as your set your phone and shift under the covers of your bed. Grabbing at the hem of your sleepwear shorts. The silk falls off your warm body to the bottom of the bed. ��I bet you’re wet for me, being such a good girl for me.’ the man talks again, your moan lightly as your fingres graze over the wet spot that’s been getting wetter and wetter by the second. ‘You want me to play with your little clit, yeah I bet ya want me to make you feel good baby.’ as the man keeps talking the more you get into it.Your own fingers playing your clit through the soaked fabric, it’s not until the voice tells you that he wants you take off your panties do you. Kicking them to the edge ofthe bed under the covers.
‘Now I want you to sink to of your fingers in baby. Get them all wet and soaked.’ The voice says in your ear, you moan at the intrude of your own fingers at your weeping hole. You trying to widden your legs to get more leverage but it only leaves you open to more of a stretch and for a fliting second your minds travels to Daryl and his hands. How large just one of his fingers are in comparison to yours. How the stretch of just one of his fingers would feel like. ‘Now I want you to pump your fingers slowly, and then get up to speed that comfortable for you doll.’ You nod your head at the words of a stranger, the angle is a little odd for your hand but you get used to it as the two of your longer inch to places you’ve never thought you could reach.
The strange voice keeps talking walking you through the motion, then he tells you that he wants you to rub your clit. ‘Rub your clit for me baby, but don’t stop pumping your fingers in and out of your cunt. I know you wanna cum all over your fingrs baby and this is how you’re gonna get there.’ the voice murmurs. A vibration ringing through your ears as your cheeks feel as if they’re on fire like the rest of your body. An unfamiliar bubble rolls around at the bottom of the tummy. The ache returns and then you figure it out. If your circle your clit just as fast as your fingers leave and return to the wet walls of your cunt your vision will go blurry and you’ll finally reach that desperate high you’re aching for so badly. Second by second the pleasure grows until your eye rolls back and the urge to scream swallows you whole. Except nothing comes out at all, your breath is gone and your scream is silent. Your legs shake under the confindes of the covers and you’ve created a wet spot that travels through your sheet.
You remove your fingers from your cunt, and take a few longer moments to catch your breath. One full breath in and out doesn’t do enough to catch up with your heartbeat that’s been racing in one of your ears since one of the earplugs had come out with the trashing of your body. The video keeps playing until it ends and you’re quick to pulls away from the covers, and turns the video off and delete any trace of it off your phone. You reach down under the covers once you’ve gotten yourself stable, grabbing for both your panties and shorts. You opt for a new pair of panties and slip them on before the shorts. You fix your bed up with new sheets and comb a few stray hairs out of your face before returning back to your bed.
You’re drawn from your dizzying, comfortable haze when a message passes over your lock screen. You catch the time, nearly eight at night. You breath deeply before clicking on the message.
“You’ve been ignoring me.” The message reads. “I wasn’t meaning to, just have had a lot of things with church.” You type out and send to him, “Of course you have.” He response. “What do you mean?” You ask him, “I’m just sayin’ that you’ve never got time for us.” He’s got to be joking, you’ve always had time for him, he just never wants to do anything other touch you nowadays. “I always make time for you, but you never want to just hang out.” You type no anger just confusion is what bubbles up in your chest. “Of course I want to do more then hang out, we’ve been together for what like at least a few months now.” He sends back. You rolls your eyes at the redundant manner of the conversation. “We’ve already talked about this I’m not ready.” You respond, your response is point blank just like how it is when you’re talking to each other in person. “Yeah I figured as much when you’re acting like a tease but won’t put out for your own boyfriend.” He sends back and ou shake your head at the whole thing. “Well then maybe we should break up since you aren’t getting what you thought we were gonna get from me.” You send, without regret. A message is back in a matter of seconds. “Gladly, just know you won’t find anyone who’s willingly able to deal with your virgin ass.” He sends and then that’s it. Because what are you to say to that. He’s acting like a child, but you assume that’s no longer your problem is it.
You sit there for a long moment, figuring out what you’re supposed to do now. You were floating on cloud nine, and now you’re at the the bottom of the ocean. Deep in your feelings, your can’t swim and even if you wanted to you can’t image you would want to swim to the top that’s until you’re scrolls through your phone in your contacts, and see Father Daryls contact. No image associated with the contact just his name, and an idea strikes you straight in your heart. You click on his contact, licking your lips you breath in deeply before writing out a message out to him.
“Where are you right now, Daryl?” You send the message you wait for it to show that it been delivered and then that its been read. A few moments pass, and then you see those dots that dance at the bottom of your screen. “I’m in my office.” He response, when the dots finally stop dancing “Are you finally taking me on my offer?” Daryl asks you, your fingers move on their own accord. Typing out a message, exposing yourself to him. “I’m taking you up on your offer, Daryl. All I’ve been thinking about have been you. Your cock and how I want you to touch and make me feel like i felt when I leave you last week.” You type out, automatically there’s a winking emoji in your thread of messages. “You okay drive in the dark?” He asks you, “Yeah, let me just change out of my clothes.” You type out.
“Be here in ten.” Is the last message you get from him before your drop your phone on the bed, and shift around your room to grab something more appropriate to go for a late night drive. You go for a pair of yoga pants and a loose t-shirt. One that your father had given to you when it no longer fit him in the stomach area. Grabbing your purse, and phone to quietly walk down the stairs. Your mother and father sitting in the living, your mother is the one that sees you first. “Where are you going?” She asks, looking down at her watch. You had seen the time before you left your room. “It’s nearly 9 at night.” Your father looks up from the basketball running on the tv. “You know my friends who’s got some family issues?” You ask your mother, she nods and waits for more information. “She need somewhere to crash for tonight. Her parents are in a really bad fight with each other tonight.” I say. Lying to my mother, for a meeting with my priest. “Oh poor girl, well you go be a good friend sweetie.” Your mother says looking back down at her book. “Just be safe please.” You father adds before returning his attention to the basketball game.
You let go of the breath you didn’t realize that you were holding. You unlock the car door the minute you get outside. That’s when you see your sister climbing down the side of the house. You both eye each other and nod before looking away from each other. You get into the car fast, and turning on the engie and rolling down the drive way. The ten minutes are cutting it short when you get stopped at a few stop lights, but you still manage it. Pulling into the same spot that you had used when you had arrived at the church for your first confess. A ding rings through your car. You look through your purse for your phone. “Front door is locked, use the side door.” It reads. You nod to yourself as your cut the engine and grab your purse and lock the door before walking towards the side door.
It’s not until you’re opening the door that you realize how scary the church is when there’s nobody there and it’s dark. You travel through the halls some dark and some bright with overhead lights flickering on and off. When you make it to his office, the door only cracked a little bit you still knock. “Come in.” He answers. His office is different then just a few days ago. The boxes are gone, and the things that littered his floor are either put up on shelves or are on his desk. He’s wearing from where you can see him another button up. “Hello sweetheart.” His accent running through the words. You standing there with your purse in front of you, but there’s an excited smile on your face. He returns the smile, and the smile grows even larger when you the next sentence comes flowing from your mouth.
“I broke up with my boyfriend, well I guess he’s now my ex-boyfriend.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders. His eyes are huge. Large blue discs staring at you. “You said what?” He says to you as he caps his pen and places it in the pen holder on his desk. He pats his lap, motioning me over with that ‘Come here’ pointer finger motion. You move quickly over to him, dropping your purse in one of the empty chairs in front of his desk. He grins up at you as you round the daks and take a seat in his lap. “Tell me again.” He says as he wraps a arm your wasit to hold you tight on his lap. “I broke up with my ex.” “And how did he take it?” Darly asks, Your brows raise, and he manages to get what you’re trying to say without saying a single word. “Like a baby I’m guessing.” Daryl finishes, you nod. “His lost anyways.” Daryls adds, which makes your cheeks burn from the smile that hasn’t left your beautiful face since you arrived at the church.
“You know how beautiful you are don’t you?” Daryl stats as he sweeps a fewstray hairs away from your face. You blush hard as your ears and cheek grow hot from his statement and his stare. You shift in his lap, and try to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the tiny bit of ache between them. “I asked you a question baby.” He says more stern, you nod as you look away from him. “Maybe I should show you just how beautiful you really are. What do you think about that?” You can’t help the way your body runs with shivers of anticipation.
“Come on princess,” Daryl mutters as he shifts you in his lap and then swipes away from of the things on his desk to make a place for you to sit there. You wait for him to manhandle you and place you there. “Did you wear these just for me?” he asks you as his rubs his hands up and down your outer thighs. You hum with excitement and answering his questions. He looks down and sees that you wearing a pair of black flats. Slipping thoese off first before returning to the yoga pants. You help him as you arche your body, so he can slip them off just like your shoes. “You’re so sweet for me.” He says as he pushes your legs apart, and doesn’t lose time. He thumbs your clothed clit, you mewl at the sudden and strong attention to your starving cunt.
The longer he plays with your clothes clit the more the ache grows. Building and building until you feel like you’re about to explode but then he’s letting up, and leaving you there wondering what’s about to happen next. You beg him for more, for him to start again. “Please… oh please don’t stop. Keep touching me please Daryl.” You beg him from below him. The hardwood surface is the only thing keeping you cool. Your voice strains as you bed him even more. The little touches that he’s giving you between your thighs with little kisses and licks of your skin aren’t enough anymore not when he’s already teased you with his thumb on your clit.
“Oh princess I am touching you. I’m touching you right now.” Daryl chuckles, you roll your eyes and groan. “Be more specific love.” He says. There’s a sort of silence that takes the two over, not that he’s not touching you he’s just not where you so desperately want him. “Use your…” Your head falls back with pleasure as it hits the desk as his hand grazes up your soaked panties to lightly pass your clit. “I want your mouth on me!” You pratically scream out. He grins a devilish grin, “See princess that’s all you had to say to me.” He says beore he dropsto his knees and widdens your legs more but not before he slips your wet panties off. They land somehwere not that you care where they are right now.
His tongue is prodding at your weeping hole, while his thumbs stays on your now exposed clit. The touch intenisfies by a ten fold. Every rub and circle sends shockwaves through your body. One of your hands land in the messy bun of his hair as you direct him. He hums as you forced him where you desperatly need him. As he hums it sends waves of pleasure through your cunt “There she is, use me baby girl.” He mutters against your cunt. Daryl stay agasunt your wet cunt, and it doesn’t take long for you to be grinding up agasint his mouth. When you’re close you try to warn him, but he lets go of you with a pop. His chin and nose wet with your juices. “You’re so tight around my tongue baby girl.” He says as he make direct eye contact with you. He’s gasping for air, but seems to be enjoying himself between your thighs. “You cum whenever you to baby girl. I just wanna make you feel good.” he murmurs as he presses a few tiny wet kisses against your lower belly where the t-shirt had raised up.
Giving you promise and returns Daryl is back on your cunt, enjoying his meal like he’s about to get a death penalty. It’s when your legs start to shake, and your toes curl that you know you’re done for “OH…PLease don’t stop I’m so close!” You shout and tug at his hair and pull Daryl even further into your cunt as your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting out a silent scream has your lungs burning for oxygen when you come down from your long high.
“There she is.” Daryl mutters as you come too. His eyes are hooded with a dark pleasure. You body feels weak, but you want him all the same. “So pretty when you cum.” Daryl says as he presses his lips into yours. Oxygen be damned he consumes you and you like the taste of yourself on your tongue. When he pulls back you can see the evident hard on in his pants. You go to reach forward but are denied. “I want to fuck you don’t worry about that baby girl, but not here.” You notch your head to the side, as you look at around the office. “Then where?” You ask, he smirks down at you. “Good Girl” He mutters as he steps away from you to grab your discarded clothes and your flats. He helps you back into your clothes, and tells you to grab your purse. “Wait here while I lock the door and then we can leave.”
It doesn’t take Daryl too long to get everything together, before he’s back at your side. And in this moment and only thing moment do you notice the difference in your age. He’s got gray hairs the are filtering through his hair, and beard. The crow feet that lays between his eyes and his forehead. But it all disappears when he grabs your hand and take you towards the same door you walked into just an hour ago. “Your car locked up?” He ask as the two of you pass by it, you nod and for extra measure you lock it waiting for the beeping noise to ringin through the empty parking lot. “Good girl.” he says to you as he opening his passenger side door for you, and then walks around to get in the drivers side.
The drive to you assume his house is a silent one, the roads not fully empty but drained of life on a tuesday night. The stoplights cause a little panic to grow at he pit of your stomach. “Stop worrin’ baby girl.” He says softly as he reaches over and grabs your hand squeezing it gently. “I’m not worrying I just want you to get there faster, so you can fuck me already.” Your own words shock you and make you laugh. His eyes don’t leave you until a car behind you disturbed the silence of his stare on you. The light green Daryl decides it’s probably best to speed the ride to his house up a little bit.
He pulls into the drive way, and put the car in park. You’re to excited to wait for Daryl to be a gentleman and open your door for you. You bust the door open before manages to get to your side of the car. “Eager I see.” Thats all he magaes to get before you’re on his. Lips on lips. Teeth on teeth. Theres no fight for dominance you just want to taste him again. “Shit baby!” he mutters agaisnt your lips as he nearly stumbles over the steps. “I didn’t know that priest were allowed to curse.” You tease him. He rolls his, “There’s a whole lot of things you’re about to learn about me baby.” He says. Daryl practically shoves you into his house, there’s no tour not really. You might count it since you get a glimpse of most of the room, as the two of you shove each into walls to get your tongue and lips on each other. “No marks.” You remind him. “You’ve gotta keep looking innocent on the outside but nobody said I can’t ruin your insides.” Daryl comments as he opens his bedroom.
Your clothes are littering the floor, between shoes. Your back is arche down as your head lays into mattress. Your ass high in the air, wiggling it back and forth. “Come on put it in already, Daryl. I’ve been begging for hours now.” You beg him, he groans as he jerks his cock in his hand, You spent what felt like forever preparing. You had taken his tongue again, and then two rounds of his fingers. Sinking further and further into your wet cunt. “I just don’t wanna break you.” You hear him mutters to you from behind you. “You’re not gonna break me, now just fuck me already!” You beg him once more, and when you feel the notch of his head intrude your wet, and warm hole your eyes roll. You’re stuffed and he’s not even halfway in. He’s slow deliberately slow, letting you inch and inch yourself onto his cock. Taking everything you can get until you hit the hilt of his cock. Balls slapping againt your clit. You’re overfilled and overloaded with every sense. You can feel that you’re holding your breath, and so can Daryl.
“I’m not moving till you breath.” He says gently, that’s the last time you here a gentle demeanor come from him. Once you take your breath and let it go he’s slipping almost all the way out, and then all the way back in. A large hand grabs a fist full of your hair at the base of your neck and pulls your head of the the soft bed and up, arching your back to get even deeper and deeper within you. You moan out in pleasure, your sense are like fried wires. If anything touches you you think you might explode under the pressure. “Oh fuck sweet girlm sotight around my cock. Got me thinkin’ I’m gonna cum like a teenaged boy again. His thrusts are calculated and the way his hips hit you as you bouncing.
The other uncuppied hand finds your jiggling tits. Sqquzing and teasing your taught nipples. He rolls one between his thumb and pointer fingers. Your head hangs back over your shoulder, and lands on his shoulder. “Daryl, you’re so… fuck so big.… feel so full.” You babble on and on, it only encourages him further. Pounding into with vigour he hasn’t felt in ages. He changes tactics, removing his hand in your haid and placing it around your waist. His large hand finding it’s place against your clit, as he feels his cock pound in and out of your cunt. “You feel me? Pounding into you?” He asks, reaching for one of your hands to place where his was. Your shock is aduioable in your voice, you can feel him pressed up against your lower tummy. It all but pushes you over the edge. “There, cum all over my cock baby it’s alright love.” He whispers into your ear. Shivering you shake your head, and counter him “Together, please together!” You beg him. “You want me?” You don’t allow him to finish his sentence, “In me please Daryl. Cum in me.” It pushes him over a water falls edges and he takes you with him. He explodes with you, as he circles your clit and kisses you till you’re both fighting for air. You collapse together on to the bed. He can feel him leave you and as he does you whine with lose. What Daryl see is a sight he never wants to loose. A thick rope of his seed leaking from your cunt and onto his sheets. He wishes he could take a mental picture of it and keep it forever, but he can’t so he opts for something else. Grabbing your panties off the floor he slips them gently back on to your ass. “What are you doing?” You ask weakly. “Keeping you nice and stuffed that all princess.” He says as he leaves to grab and wash clothes and some water for both of you.
Breathless and tired, you look over at Daryl. “You’re so handsome.” You say shyly; even though you’ve been royally fucked within an inch of your life and cursed like a sailor, you’re still shy saying the simplest of words. “Oh, princess, you’re out of this world.” He says with a warm smile. Yet that smile is drowned out by his words. “I should be gettin’ you back to your car.” He turns to you, and you shake your head violently. “No, not yet.” You say, climbing into his lap. “Let’s just stay like this.” You mutter as you grind into him and lean down for another sweet kiss. He groans as his hands cup your ass and pull you forward. “Okay, but just a little longer, yeah.” He murmurs against your lips.
Completed on: 11/13/23
Posted on: 11/16/23
The Law-
#fluff#fem reader#female reader#requests are open#open requests#requests open#the walking dead imagine#the walking dead smut#the walking dead au#twd au#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon#daryl fanfiction#twd daryl#the walking dead fic#daryl x reader#daryl x y/n#daryl twd#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon au#daryl dixon priest
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He boutta fuck up everyone's day fr fr
#s7 of the walking dead is in my brain#douxie's gonna try and kill negan like... so many times#tales of arcadia#wizards tales of arcadia#hisirdoux casperan#toa wizards#honey's art#twd au#twd crossover#the walking dead#the walking dead au#the walking dead crossover#do not walk do not run
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❝ Yes, Professor Grimes ❞
A college/ university AU featuring Professors Grimes and Dixon and Coach Negan
*all of these one shots take place in the same universe, but can be read independent of each other. if you'd like to make requests for this au, feel free!
✎ Proud of You - Rick Grimes
summary Rick comforts you after finding out your biggest fear is disappointing him.
✎ Jealous - Rick Grimes + Daryl Dixon
summary After getting drunk with your friends, you wake up at Professor Dixon's place where you explore something new. Rick lets you despite the jealousy brewing inside him.
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Main Masterlist
#the walking dead#smut#fanfic#twd smut#female reader#x reader#daryl dixon#fic rec#the walking dead smut#fluff#rick grimes#negan#negan smith#rick grimes x reader#daryl dixon x reader#negan x reader#rick grimes x reader smut#daryl dixon x reader smut#negan x reader smut#alternate universe#twd au
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Farmer Wants a Mistress / farmer!negan x richbrat!reader / 18+ / AU
Summary: Living the good life since you married into money, you’ve become desensitised to the more simple ‘live off the land’ lifestyle of your sister. Her husband Negan sets out to teach a harsh lesson for you not to be so judgemental.
Warnings: infidelity, brat!reader, smut, rough sex elements, use of “hayseed hick” which are derogatory terms for a farmer, degrading terms, outside/forest sex, spitting, choking, negan is a warning in its self, mean!negan, slapping, dumbification (slightly), oral (male receiving), slight hint of dacryphilia
A/N: i need sedating, this GIF, oh my good LORD. fyi, i do not condone anyone looking down on another person for their profession/how much they work or earn, this is purely fiction and the needed attitude for the brat character/reader! also i’m telling you now, reader is a BRAT, like ‘Wild Child’ Poppy Moore level of brat, if that isn’t your thing, this probably isn’t the fic for you! 🤍
“god, i don’t know why i even let you drag me here, we are in the middle of nowhere.” you huffed, using the inflight magazine you’d taken from the flight to fan yourself off, unaccustomed to the sweltering heat of texas this time of year. your sister’s grip of the steering wheel got tighter, trying to hold her tongue at your obvious annoyance.
“i’m so sorry it’s such a inconvenience for you to visit your only sister, which by the way, you only do once a year.” she sniped back, rolling her eyes. adjusting your sunglasses on your nose, you stared out at the crop farmlands as you drove past, a vast difference to the city skyscrapers you were used to back home. “look, i’m just not the biggest fan of farms, or farm animals. they smell and it’s just too much work! why you ever let yourself marry into this, i’ll never understand.” you quipped back, throwing the magazine down into your lap as it wasn’t doing anything to help your rising body temperature.
like she had said, you only ever made the journey from new york to texas once a year to visit your sisters side of the family, granted it was only the two of them. her and her farmer husband, Negan, born into a farmer family himself, he’d taken over the land once his parents had moved on, settling for a smaller place, unable to keep working due to age. him and your sister had married a year after you and your own husband had, the two men couldn’t have been more different if they tried.
your own husband was a banker, giving you a penthouse apartment, what seemed like a unlimited supply of money and multiple trips away every year to the most luxurious resorts and locations. growing up poor and then overnight having more money than you knew what to do with had changed you, you wouldn’t deny that.
you couldn’t remember the last time you had bought anything that wasn’t designer, having your hair done monthly and various spa weekends, keeping yourself in tip top condition. you and her led very separate and different lives, you couldn’t help but feel like she’d got the short end of the deal, slaving away on a godawful ranch seven days a week.
she finally pulled up to the front of the farm, the slightly open window forcing you to smell the various animals that were loitering around outside of the barn next to the rustic-styled house. the exposed white wood of the front porch, multi-coloured chicken wind chime made of bamboo hung off the plinth of the patio, making small clinking noises from the slight wind that gathered up the dust of the grain. all these elements together started to remind you that you were far from your own home comforts of proper electricity and pleasant smells.
you opened your door, being careful not to step in the mud that was right under your feet, your stiletto heel digging into the soft ground. walking around to the back of the car, you opened the trunk, taking out your louis vuitton suitcase, stopping in your tracks when you realised you didn’t want to put it on the muddy ground. “have you got something you can take these in on?” you questioned, your sister looking at you in disbelief.
“jesus christ doll, it’s goddamn mud! it’ll wash off, don’t get your panties in a twist.” you whipped your head around to the bellowing deep voice, eyes setting on him as he made his way over to the car. you moved one of your hands off the handle of the suitcase to your hip to jaunt it out at him. “oh i’m sorry! let me just put my bag, that’s probably worth more than your house, on the dirty ground. i take pride in my possessions Negan.” you retorted, your sister sighing in defeat, taking the bag from your hand and walking with it towards the house. you took your sunglasses off your face, Negan now stood right next to you, his arm leaning on the side of the car, looking at you. dressed in his usual brown cowboy hat, opened mustard yellow flannel shirt with a slightly off white tank top underneath, cargo trousers with a thick black belt to keep them up. the long, black leather pendant sitting just above his naval.
“i always love when the city mouse comes to visit, you ready for a week in hell, princess?” he laughed, rolling around a toothpick between his pearly white teeth. not that you had anything against the man before he married your sister but he absolutely revelled in mocking you whenever you came to stay, you imagined he saw you nothing more than a spoiled little girl, not understanding that you just preferred the finer things, even if you were a bit of a snob when it came to his way of life. not that you really cared for his opinion on you. you’d imagine that if circumstances had been different, you would have been attracted to such a handsome man, if only he’d change that usual cowboy get up for a nice three piece suit.
“if it isn’t the hayseed hick himself, how are you darling?” you threw your insults right back at him, this was just how you communicated with each other, both of you had tongues as sharp as swords. you grabbed your other bag from inside the trunk of the car, moving to take it to the house before his large hand grasped over yours that was on the leather handle. “let me take it, wouldn’t want you to break a nail, princess.” Negan laughed, before using his other hand to close the trunk firmly, causing you to jump slightly out of its way. you followed closely behind him, Negan taking wide strides, his hips moving slightly as his forearm muscles tensed from the weight of your bag in his hand.
“did you pack for the month or something? jesus christ.” he managed to huff out, even with how strong he was, it felt like you’d put rocks in your bag. “not all of us can just take a toothbrush and clean boxers on holiday with us, Negan. not that you’d know much about that, furthest you ever go is the farmers market, is it not?” you bit back, using your hands to push your hair back out of your face, having to put your sunglasses back over your eyes to avoid the harsh dust from getting into your retinas. you pushed past him, walking up the steps to enter the house, a small grimace on your face as you remembered how much your sisters place looked like Dorothy’s house from the Wizard of Oz.
it was honestly like you’d gone through a time machine back to the 1900’s, your sister didn’t even have a TV in the place, no wi-fi or good working signal. Negan followed up behind you, almost denting your case with how harshly he’d placed it near the staircase. “jeez, be careful with that would you!” you exclaimed, picking it back up off the ground, starting to make your way up the stairs, heels making it a difficult feat. Negan started to laugh at you struggling, causing you to turn around to give him a death glare. “i’m glad this is funny to you, most men would be gentlemanly and help a lady with her bags.”
“i would doll, but i don’t see a lady here.” he continued laughing at you, your mouth dropped wide at his rude statement, slightly growling you stomped the rest of the way up the stairs to your assigned room you always stayed in when you came here. god, you couldn’t wait for this week to be over but it was only the start.
“god honey, i know you don’t like the way they do things but this is your sister! she’s family, you have to respect their lifestyle. you are a guest in their house.” you rolled your eyes, your husband clearly wasn’t getting how annoyed and stressed out you were. “i’m honestly trying! you come here and get woken up by a damn cockerel at five am in the morning and see if your still saying the same thing then!” you crossed your arms over your chest with your phone held up to your ear, angrily pacing back and forth on the porch, the only place you could get one bar of signal. it was no use telling your husband the grievances as he’d only been here once and he always seemed to forget how hellish that week had been for him, how he sighed a breath of relief once you got on the plane home.
“you’ve only got a couple more days until you’ll be back here with me, i’ll set you up a appointment with the spa, give you some time to relax, okay?” you smiled, almost jumping with glee. “oh thank you! god knows i’ll need it after being around all these horrid animals.”
“goddamn it!” you turned your head towards a very angry Negan, the hosepipe he’d been using had sprayed all over the front of his clothes, causing the wet fabric to stick against his abdomen. he grabbed the bottom, whipping it over his head, using his strong hands to wring the water from the top. the veins in his arm were in full motion, you could see his muscles flexing, his toned abdomen now on display. the light of the sun caught his frame just right, the hot temperature making the light sheen of sweat mix with the water he’d just got all over his torso. you couldn’t take your eyes off his body, like a mirage in the desert. you’d never found yourself looking at him this way, his dirty mouth turning you off him from the very second he opened it but silent like this, he was a vision.
he could feel a pair of eyes on him, his gaze shooting up to look towards you. “honey? honey? are you still there?” you snapped back into reality, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in your throat. you turned your back to Negan with a quickness, heat reaching your cheeks as you realised you’d been caught gazing at him. “yeah, i’m here.” you answered your husband.
Negan softly chuckled to himself, already coming up with a rolodex of new material to tease you with.
two days, two days was all you had left to endure before you could take your leave and go back to new york. while you’d like to say you’d had a pleasant experience, that would be far from the truth. your sister had convinced you to do some grunt work while you’d been here and out of sheer boredom due to the lack of entertainment here, you’d begrudgingly agreed.
this had resulted in being bitten by a chicken when trying to retrieve its eggs, causing Negan to nearly die with laughter as you yelped out, a small trail of blood seeping from your finger. he’d took your delicate hand in his rough one to assess the damage, claiming you were being a big baby about it, giving a small kiss to it which made you freeze up at his inappropriate action. you felt it was more just to make you feel more embarrassed, knowing he loved to do things to antagonise you even further. you’d yanked your hand out of his, giving a small noise of disgust before stomping away from him to get a plaster.
you’d been given the more easy task of brushing the horses, claiming you didn’t want to get bitten again and your sister swore the horses were completely domesticated and not prone to acts of aggression.
you’d nearly finished when you saw Negan coming over to you, that small arrogance in the way he sauntered around this place. “any more injures happen today doll?” he asked, leaning on the barn doorway, that usual toothpick in his mouth. you sighed, dropping the brush back in the tack box and crossing your arms over your chest. “no, nothing for you to make fun of me today, i’m afraid.” he pushed himself off the doorframe, taking a couple steps towards you. “come on doll, let’s go for a ride. i need to go and get more firewood from the forest, live a little. i tell you, having the wind blowing past you when you are on the back of these magnificent animals, no feeling like it in the world.” your eyebrow raised a little, you were actually considering it for a good while.
you sighed, not like you had anything better to do. “okay fine! only if you do the actual work. i don’t feel like getting my hands dirty.” you agreed, letting him walk past you to get the riding saddles and strapping them to the horse. he did it with ease, stepping up with his large boot to get his foot into the stirrup, his long leg being thrown over the horses back. he put out his arm to help pull you up on the horse behind him, you’d hadn’t realised how close your groin would have been to his back with you sitting behind him, the feeling making your body betray you with how good it felt to be so close to him.
he started at a slow pace, guiding the horse out of the open stable door, setting off for the wood that you could see vaguely in the distance at the back of the farmland. you’d been holding onto the metal bar that was at the back of the saddle before Negan let out a laugh. “hold on doll!” your face contorted into confusion before Negan gently applied pressure into the horse with his leg causing it to accelerate into a fast gallop. you slightly squealed, taking your hands off the bar and threw your arms around his torso, nearly in death grip, scared of coming off the animal with how much bouncing around you were doing. your hands linked around the front of him, you could feel the hard abdomen muscles underneath his tank top, you knew he’d done this on purpose to either annoy you or try and get you to come off the horse.
the leather underneath you kept rubbing against your core, the bouncing causing your clit to keep hitting the seat, a small wetness gathering on the material of your panties underneath your flowy dress. well, at least horse riding was good for something, you thought to yourself.
you’d finally got into the wood, Negan bringing the horse to a stop, dismounting with you still on the back, tying the reign to a small stump of a tree. “can you help me get off please?” you asked, looking down at how far you were above the ground, getting a little nervous at getting off by yourself. “move your legs to the side and jump down, don’t worry doll, i’ll catch you.” he reassured you, his arms coming out, his fingers moving in a ‘come here’ motion, that stupid grin on his face at your obvious nervousness.
you brought your right leg to the other side of the horse, your palms digging into the saddle, you made no move to jump off, slightly worried about Negan actually catching you. he huffed, grabbing you by your thighs, causing you to let out a slight scream before he pulled you off the horse, his hands sliding from your thighs, trailing up your bodies sides as you slipped down from the height.
your legs were now wide open, your feet finally meeting the ground, Negan’s hands still placed on your waist as you looked up at him. you realised he was still touching you, before you pushed his hands off you, smoothing out your dress. “thank you but i was just about to jump down myself, i didn’t need you to manhandle me, farmer boy.” you snapped, walking away from him to pet the animal. he slightly chuckled, while moving to grab the axe from the satchel that was strapped to the horse.
“sure you were, princess.”
you’d been here for around half a hour, helping Negan by putting the chunks of firewood in the bag on the back of the horse. your hands were red from gripping the wood, trying to avoid getting any splinters, causing you to be quite slow at packing it away.
“you do know, you could go a bit faster doll, we’ll be out here until nightfall if not.” you rolled your eyes at his taunting. “i don’t want any further injuries thank you.”
he growled, obviously annoyed at how unwilling you were to pick up the pace. “look, you might be able to sit around doing absolutely nothing back in your fancy palace at home but i’d rather not get my ass chomped by whatever creature could be lurking in this place, so just pick up the pace, please.” you scoffed, turning around to face him, he had the axe in both hands, his hip slightly twisted to face you. “no, you look! i don’t know what kind of impression you’ve gathered in your head of me, but.. yes i don’t do much work, yes i’d rather play the pretty housewife than go out and bend over backwards for work. if that makes me lazy, then so be it. i can’t help i have a taste for a easier way of life.”
it was now his turn to scoff at you, he threw the axe down to the ground, taking large footsteps towards you, you back yourself up against a tall tree behind you, the sharp bark of it digging into your skin a little. he towered over you before bringing his face closer to yours, his arm just above and slightly to the side of your head, resting on the tree.
“you mean your pretty little life of faking orgasms for your dear clueless husband? faking pleasure so you can continue to use him for his precious fucking money, that the easier way of life you are talking about?” he taunted, you screwed your face up in anger, how dare he?!
“excuse me? how dare you make your false assumptions about my marriage?! who do you think you are?!” you shouted out at him, taking your hands off the bark of the tree to try and push him away from you. not even moving him a inch due to his strong frame, he grabbed your wrists, forcing your hands above your head, digging them into the rough surface.
“oh give me a fucking break sweetheart, you think i didn’t notice the way you looked at me the other day. looked like a damn fucking dog in heat, you need a proper man like me to teach you some fucking manners. the way you look down at me from your ivory tower, i’ve kept the peace for your sisters sake but now i’m getting fucking tired of it, princess.”
“i don’t know what the hell you are talking about! like i’d ever look at your hillbilly ass like that, Negan, you must be joking!” you slowly laughed, truth not really following your words and he could tell. he gave a gravely laugh back, he moved his hand off your wrist, now applying more pressure with the remaining one so you couldn’t move. he moved his other under the skirt of your dress, fingertips brushing your inner thigh.
“let’s take a wager doll, if your panties ain’t fucking soaking for me right now, i’ll let you go. if they are? well, you’re going to get a lesson in basic southern hospitality from good ol’ Negan, let’s see shall we?” you tried to come up with some sort of smart mouth retort, the pure lust in his tone had you silent. his fingertips finally moving over the lace of your panties, his mouth moving to a wide grin when he did indeed find that the material was absolutely soaking wet.
“well, well, well? would you look at that?” he moved the lace to the side, now running his fingers up and down your folds, his fingertips now slick with your juices.
“don’t fucking flatter yourself, farmer boy. i just haven’t had any in months.”
the hand he used to hold your arms quickly pulled off, a slight slap to your cheek, the skin underneath turning red at the motion before he grasped your chin roughly.
“you still never fucking learn do you, you fucking slut. wet over your sisters husband, ain’t so prim and proper now, are you? now i think the only way to finally shut you up is to stuff that pretty fucking mouth with my dick, get on your fucking knees.”
his voice dark, you swallowed hard to be rid of the lump in your throat. he whipped you around so his back was now against the tree, pushing down on your shoulders to get you to your knees, his large frame now looking even more scary looking up at him. he unbuckled his belt, undoing the button of his cargos to pull out his impressively large and already hard cock.
you cried out, small tears leaving your eyes at his size, it was bigger than you’d had before and the thought of it being inside you, scared you to death while also causing your panties to get even wetter.
he laughed, grasping your hair roughly into a painful, makeshift ponytail. “keep those tears coming princess, just makes you even sexier, down there on your knees for me, now open that fucking slutty mouth, i’ve got a present for you.” he grasped the base of his dick, his fingers pulling your hair even more as he guided his cock towards your mouth. you reluctantly opened as wide as you could, the salty precum meeting your tastebuds.
“goddamn! ain’t that the prettiest sight i’ve ever seen!” Negan grunted out, his hips rocking forward to force more of his cock down your throat, the whimpers coming from you making him hiss in pleasure. your spit gathered at the base of him, getting caught in the soft hair there. he was enjoying the sight of you softly crying on your knees for him.
he kept himself buried at the back of your throat, keeping you struggling to breathe, coughing and gagging around his length, Negan throwing his head back at how good your mouth felt wrapped around him like he was. your mouth bobbed up and down against him, you tongue tracing the underside of his length, as he rolled his hips, looking down at you, savouring seeing you completely obedient to his control.
he pulled himself out of your mouth, finally letting you breathe, your throat and jaw burning with the force he’d had held you at.
he forced you up by your hair, moving you over to a large, jagged rock, your back forced against the cold surface.
“spread those pretty legs for me, slut. i want to see how wet you are for me.”
you moved your legs open for him, your feet coming to rest on the side of the rock, knees bent. Negan pulled your dress up to bunch around your torso, he yanked the top of it down, exposing your tits to the cold forest air. he grasped one in his hand, flicking your nipple, giving it a harsh slap afterwards. you yelped at the pleasurable pain of it, your breathing becoming ragged and unsteady. moving your panties to the side again as he had before, he gathered saliva and spat right on your core, the dirtiness of the action causing you to moan. giving a slap to your pussy, you whimpered at the pain that shot through your chest, head thrown back before he threw your leg over his shoulder, pulling your head back by your hair to meet his eyes.
“none of that doll, i want you to look at me while i stretch this pretty pussy out. look at it squeezing for me, begging for me.”
Negan hardened his grasp on your leg, holding on to it, he released your hair to run a finger up your pussy, your juices collecting on them as he bought them up to his mouth, sucking on them.
“you taste fucking divine princess, i’d eat this pretty little pussy all day but you don’t deserve that do you? you need putting in your place, this ain’t meant to be enjoyable for you, now is it?”
he lined up at your opening, letting no time go to waste before he entered you, filling you up to the hilt. you softly moaned when his hips snapped against yours, tightening yourself around his length, the pleasure nearly too much for you to handle. your back scraping against the uncomfortable rock, knowing you’d have cuts afterwards but you were too focused on the situation at hand.
“goddamn princess, absolutely squeezing me, this is what you wanted isn’t it. you may not respect my lifestyle but you couldn’t wait for me to teach you a fucking lesson could you?”
you could only moan, his hand that wasn’t on your leg coming down to wrap around your throat, thumb pressing down on your windpipe, restricting your breathing. it would have scared you, but in a funny way you trusted Negan to guide you through the experiment of a intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure.
his thrusts built up in not only speed but aggression as well, your body contorted into a curve as he pulled you to meet your lips in a rough kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, biting on your lower lip as his hand still wrapped your throat. your arms gripping onto his broad shoulders, pressing down your nails into his tanned skin.
“i can feel how wet you are, you slut. come on princess, i want to feel you soak my fucking cock.”
your mind was hazy, absolutely cock-drunk from this man, never had you had such pleasure in your marriage, never realising how much the thought of being used would light such a unknown fire inside you.
“nega-negan i’m going to cum, please, can i cum?” you begged, your voice almost stopped as he rammed into you, the pressure on your throat causing your begging to come out as a broken set of words. the thought of something or someone coming along and seeing your sisters husband and you in such a precarious position made your mind run at a thousand miles a hour.
“go on you slut, come all over my cock, i wanna see those pretty eyes roll back into that empty fucking head of yours.”
that was all the permission you needed as you let yourself go, your body trembling, overwhelming pleasure as the shame of what you just allowed your sisters husband to do to you washed over your brain. it was the first time you’d ever squirted in your life, your juices dripping over Negan’s cock as he followed close behind you to his own release.
he came himself with a loud grunt, small whimper mixed in as well. “yeah, let me fill that tight pussy up, want myself dripping down your thighs for the rest of the day princess.”
he let go of your throat, you both trying to catch your breath, your task being harder than his as his choking had almost cut off your circulation. he leaned against your leg, watching as his seed started to slowly spill out of you, laughing at the sight.
“that is fucking gorgeous, look at that! have you learnt your lesson doll?” you weakly nodded, your eyes meeting his.
maybe you could stretch to a couple more visits a year.
#negan smith#negan twd#negan#negan smut#negan the walking dead#negan x reader#negans#negans thirst squad#negan one shot#negan imagine#negan smut week#negan x you#the walking dead negan#negan fanfiction#twd negan#enemies to lovers negan#negan's thirst squad#cowboy!negan#farmer!negan#twd au#negan x oc#negan enemies to lovers#twd negan imagine#twd oc#the walking dead smut#the walking dead imagines#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead imagine#negan smith x you
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what? a Zukaang zombie AU?
You read that right.
Title: Heaven Help Us
Warnings: Violence & Smut
Inspired by this artwork by Yishu who helped me with the plot/outline and encouraged me to write this fic. Everybody thank her! ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉)
Anyway, here's the Ao3 link (人◕ω◕) enjoy!
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First Date
kinktober day 29 - semi-public sex
Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader
Summary: You go on a date with Negan and you end up having sex in a bathroom stall.
Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex.
A/N: This is pre-apocalypse. Also, this is a little late because I was going to post it last night but I fell asleep lol.
You struggled to keep quiet as Negan bucked up into you, your heels clinking against the porcelain of the toilet with every thrust he made into you.
You were currently straddling his lap, your feet tucked up behind him on the back of the toilet as he helped you urge your hips over him.
And you were struggling to keep it down as you moaned against his shoulder, the sensation of his cock dragging along your walls feeling amazing as you rocked your hips over him.
"Fuck." Negan sighed, his beard scraping against the side of your neck as he dragged his mouth over your skin. "This is one hell of a first date."
"Shut up." You whispered, your eyes screwing shut as you worked yourself over him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
He just let out a low chuckle before snapping his hips up into you, making you gasp out at the sudden force.
Although your little moment was soon interrupted when you heard the bathroom door swing open, the sound of heels clicking on the floor.
You remained completely frozen on top of Negan as you looked down into the stall beside you. Someone was in there.
But whilst you were trying your best to keep still, Negan had other plans as he continued to slowly thrust up into you, an amused smirk on his face as he dug his fingers into your hips, keeping you in place.
"Negan." You hissed, trying to keep your voice down as you glared at him.
He just grinned at you, quickening his movements slightly as he helped bring your hips down on him.
And somehow you found yourself suddenly complying, allowing him to do as he pleased.
You held your breath as you rolled your hips over him, concentrating on not making a sound. And you had to admit, the idea that somebody could potentially hear you right now seemed to add a certain level of excitement to this.
You bit your lip, a fire beginning to pool in your belly as Negan continued to thrust into you, your ass bouncing against his thighs with every movement.
You only lasted a few more seconds before you were smashing your lips against his in a desperate kiss, an attempt to muffle your moans as you came close to your release.
And when the fire finally exploded, you kept your mouth against his as a wave of pleasure crashed over you.
Negan groaned into your mouth then, his dick twitching inside you before he came.
When you looked down to check the other stall, you realised that they'd gone and you'd been so consumed in your moment of bliss that you hadn't even heard them leaving.
"So." Negan panted, bringing your attention back to him. "Second date?"
[Kinktober Masterlist] [Main Masterlist] [Negan Masterlist]
#kinktober 2022#kinktober#negan smut#negan x reader smut#negan x reader#negan x reader imagines#negan x reader oneshot#negan drabble#negan oneshot#negan imagine#negan fanfic#pre-apocalypse negan#jeffrey dean morgan#the walking dead#the walking dead smut#the walking dead fanfiction#twd#twd au#twd smut#twd fanfiction
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congrats on the 3,000 followers! I'm so excited for this!
My request is Rick Grimes x plus size reader "she fell first, he fell harder" + “That’s it, keep going. Such a good girl.”
Mafia au? If you do that sort of thing.
Belonging
Mob!Rick Grimes x plus size reader
He’s older, he’s dangerous and he’s all yours
Warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is implied to be in her mid-20s while Rick is 50), daddy kink, unprotected sex, smut, small references to Rick’s kids, some cockwarming
WC: 1.6k
Minors DNI
3000 Follower Celebration
Falling in love with your boss was never a good idea, especially when he was the leader of the most powerful mob in the south and a man that was almost double your age who had two kids, one of which was barely ten years younger than you. But when he would smile at you first thing in the morning as you delivered his coffee or when his blue eyes sparkled as you told him a dumb joke to brighten his day, you fell even deeper for him.
“Mr Grimes?” You knocked gently on the door jamb to his office, unconsciously pressing your plump thighs together as you took in the sight of his unruly grey curls that had been loosened from his usual slicked back style through the day. His eyes met yours, his pink lips turning up into a smooth smile beneath his well-groomed beard.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes darlin’.” He cooed, leaning back from his desk so he could give you his full attention. “And I thought I told you ta call me Rick or daddy.” He winked. You rolled your eyes and strutted into the office, shutting the door behind you, mindful to lock it.
“And I thought I told you to keep it professional during work hours.” His eyes followed you as you moved to the other end of the office. You poured a glass of his very expensive brandy into a crystal tumbler, his heavy gaze burning into your back. “I’m still your secretary Mr Grimes.” You glanced back at him.
He clenched his jaw in annoyance but his eyes were still alight with amusement. “Well, you refused to let me give you a better position Mrs Grimes.” You scoffed and turned on the balls of your feet so you could lean against his drinks cabinet, taking a sip of the golden liquid.
“You offered me the job when your dick was down my throat, I don’t think that’s a brilliant qualifier. And I’m not Mrs Grimes yet, I don’t see a ring on either of our fingers.” You pointed out, tapping your empty ring finger against the glass.
“And how is that my fault? I’ve asked ya ta marry me bout 50 times now.” The high-back leather seat rolled back from his desk, allowing Rick to stand to his full height. His black suit is now wrinkled from sitting at his desk all day but still gives him an air of power. You knew how dangerous he was but that made it all the more exciting. “If it had been up ta me, we would be married and with a couple of tykes around ya feet by now.”
You smiled and took another sip. “But no. Ya had ta say it was ‘too soon’.” He said with a mocking tone, slowly working his way over to you. Your gaze dropped down and caught sight of the tightness in his slacks around his growing bulge.
“You proposed on our second date AFTER I had to beg you for the first one.” His huge palm cupped the swell of your hip as he plucked the glass from your hand, downing the rest of the brandy in one gulp. You were hypnotised by the way his Adam's apple bobbed and the urge to bite his deliciously thick throat became almost overwhelming.
“I am sorry bout that darlin. Ya see, I couldn’t believe such a sweet, plump, sexy little thang like you would want an old dangerous man like me.” That made you mad. Your fingers curled around his dark tie and yanked the mobster closer to you.
“Then you are a fool, Mr Grimes, to not see how much I utterly adore you.” You pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth in a delicate peck but when he whined, obviously wanting more, you kissed him properly.
Rick’s arms wound around your thick waist as you held his jaw in your hands. Heat raced through you as he pulled you away from the wooden cabinet and towards the huge sofa in the corner of the room. “Guess you’ll hafta prove it ta me then.” He groaned against your lips, his fingers searching for the zipper to your skirt at the same time.
“And how do you suppose I do that daddy?” You swore his knees buckled as you cooed into his ear. As the back of Rick’s legs hit the edge of the couch, he tumbled back, pulling you down on top of him. Your thick thighs were forced apart over his lap and your bare centre pushed against him. Wetness quickly soaked through the rough fabric of his pants.
A moan slipped through your throat as your clit brushed up on the metallic zipper. Rick smirked. “How bout you give me a ride darlin, show me with your purty little pussy.” He lifts your skirt just enough to expose your soaked folds to him.
You chased his lips as you rocked forward onto your knees, your fingers fumbling with the clasp to his pants. Your tongues tangled in a lewd dance, your teeth clacking together as you become more desperate for him. Rick’s musky cologne washed over your senses, consuming your whole being.
Finally, his trousers came undone and your hands flew into them, desperate for your prize. Rick hissed as you pulled him out. He was painfully hard and throbbing in your soft palm, his head now a deep purple, eager for release. “Is this all for me daddy?” You cooed, giving him a tentative pump and watching as a bead of pre-cum gathered at his tip.
His thin hips bucked into your hand. “Ya know it is. All yours darlin.” You kissed him again, this time it was sweeter as you tried to convey all your feelings for the older man with a single brush of your lips. As he kissed you back, his hands held your hips tightly, guiding you up so you could position him at your weeping entrance.
“And I’m all yours.” You sunk down onto him slowly, his thick length prying you apart with a pleasurable burn. “F-fuck daddy. So big.” You moaned and dropped down another inch. His grip on you got even tighter, forcing you down so he was buried to the hilt. Your body struggled to take him, your walls rippling around him.
Rick stopped breathing in a vain attempt to keep himself still. He wanted you to take what you needed from him in your own time, no matter how wild it drove him to have you wrapped so tightly around him and so wet that it was dripping onto his heavy balls.
Your body sagged as you finally relaxed enough for the stretch to lessen. “There ya go darlin. Doin so good.” He stroked the small of your back lovingly with his thumbs, encouraging you to take your time with him, even if it was borderline torture for the mobster.
Deciding to put him out of his misery, you rolled your hips in a figure-8 motion, your clit grinding against the sparse patch of hair at the base of his pelvis with each pass. But all-too soon, you realised it wasn’t enough. So planting your knees into the cousins, you started to bounce on top of your lover.
His reaction was immediate.
Rick's eyes rolled back into his head as he bit his lip to prevent loud groans from escaping. The air was forced from your lungs every time your ass met his thighs
“That’s it, keep going. Such a good girl.” Your thighs began to burn with the strain of riding him but the pleasure was too great to stop. With each downward roll of your hips, the crown of his cock perfectly hitting the bundle of nerves deep inside of you that had you seeing stars.
Your nails dug painfully into his strong shoulders, almost slicing through his shirt. Rick’s hips bucked with the pain, sending him even deeper inside yourself. You gasped as he bashed against your cervix, inadvertently sending you higher and higher. The knot deep inside you began to tighten quickly and by the way Rick’s head had fallen into the crook of your neck, his lips desperately kissing and suckling your skin, he was getting close too.
“Daddy please. Need more.” You whined. His strong right hand skirted down your front, leaving goosebumps in its wake. For a moment he paused at the area around your hips, pressing his fingers to the soft flesh of your stomach almost reverently before continuing to the apex of your thighs.
Calloused fingertips rubbed tight circles against your clit and you exploded. Colours burst behind your eyes as your jaw dropped open in a silent scream. His cock throbbed deep inside you and Rick gave two, three forceful thrusts up before holding you down and cumming inside you.
The office was silent save for the sounds of your breathing. Your body trembled with the force of your orgasm and you slumped into your partner. Rick chuckled breathlessly, holding you to his chest. “Guess ya really do love me.” He murmured into your hair.
“Yeah so deal with it Grimes.” You replied sleepily, exhaustion suddenly overcoming you. Rick just smiled and traced down the length of your spine as you fell asleep on top of him, his cock softening inside of you.
“Rick, we need ya down at the docks. Negan is causin some issues.” Daryl’s tentative voice called from outside the office door. Rick sighed.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” Gently, he laid you down on the couch and pulled out. There was a rush of his release as it spilled from you. With a practised ease, he grabbed the small box of tissues from the side table to wipe away the last of his seed. You never even stirred as he laid his jacket over you and placed a kiss on your head. “Be good for me darlin. I’ll be back soon.”
And hopefully you wouldn’t take off the huge diamond ring he had delicately placed on your finger before he was able to beg you to keep it on.
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Dad's best friend!Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader | SMUT 🔞 [Pt.2]
Your father shares information about his best friend to show support of your interests. Those interests take a different turn than he expected.
🐺 🐺 🐺
You and Daryl met via your father, Rick Grimes.
Him and Daryl had been best friends for so long they considered themselves brothers.
Although there was one major thing you had more in common with his best friend than with your father.
Monsters.
Werewolves to be exact.
Rick knew how crazy obsessed you were with those old day horror movies and their leading monsters so when he learned about Daryl’s more ..feral side he had asked if it was okay if you knew as well, to which he agreed.
When your dad told you his friend Daryl had something to show you you had zero clue of that it could be. All he cared for was hunting, leather jackets and motorcycles.
What you didn’t expect was to be met with a set of glowing blue eyes above exposed fangs and a clawed hand reaching out to hand you some books on lycantrophy.
Eyes wide you stared at the man on your couch and words seemed to fail you no matter how deep you dug through your mind. So you and your now soaked panties spun and ran up to your room.
“I think she meant to say thanks, Daryl.”
After that, whenever he visited you’d make sure to hang around and just talk to him. You wanted to learn everything about him and his species now that you knew they were real.
Daryl would sometimes bring you new books. The dust covers hiding the true, dirty covers of books on breeding, or biological books for ‘studying’ that did go in full depth when it came to anatomy.
Of course those books weren’t the only thing shared between the two of you. He could smell how turned on you got around him, that’s why you got the dirtier books in the first place.
When Rick got called about an emergency at work he rushed out, ordering you to take care of Daryl, who respectfully left after he had finished his drink. But not without sharing his phone number and later that evening his newly acquired snapchat. You shared a good amount of filthy thoughts over the app and his visits got more and more difficult for you both to sit through. You, thinking of wrapping your lips around his delicious looking cock as he howled out in pleasure while he came down your throat. But also him being able to sense your internal struggle and soaked panties. It was like you were silently begging him to bend you over the coffee table right then and there.
A couple months into your secret texting you had been reading one of the books Daryl had gifted you. The one on breeding, specifically. It went into great detail of certain mating rituals, what certain full moons did for reproduction on both male and female weres, but hidden further into the pages was this chapter on cross-breeding. The chapters included graphics of human females during the stages of pregnancies carrying either a single pup or multiples.
You had your reading nook prepared with a full phone battery, a small bottle of lube and the largest, knotted toy you kept hidden deep in your cabinets.
The whole book turned you on so much that even the informative graphics were enough to get you so slicked up you didn’t even need the lube as you slid the toy inside of you.
Grabbing your phone you opened snapchat and started a recording.
The book was the first thing in view, your fingers grazing over the image of a human female, her belly showed the internal view of her womb full of multiple pups, with next to it an outside look of her torso displaying a large round belly with multiple canine like teats. After letting the details show you swapped to your selfie cam, giving the camera a soft moan and bit your lip before moving the camera down to where you were pumping the thick, knotted toy in and out of your soaked pussy. You added a quick ‘wanna be like her..’ and sent it over to Daryl and laid your phone to the side, now giving all your attention to yourself and finishing what you started. As you worked yourself to release your phone dinged and a quick glance showed Daryl’s snapchat icon popping up. While one hand kept moving the toy, the other opened the snap and watched him jerk himself off with a clawed hand as bright blue eyes stared right at the camera. His shirt was pulled up between his bared fangs as he growled out loud and finished all over his hand and stomach. He came more than any guy in porn vids you’d seen and the caption read ‘allathat’s gonna be inside ya’. You kept the snap replaying on loop as you pushed yourself that last bit over the edge and came around the toy. You replied to his snap with one of your own, filming yourself pulling the large toy out, showing just how big it really was.
As you cleaned up you got another snap. It showed the view of Daryl’s back porch, leading into the woods that surrounded his cabin. The little text bar at the bottom read ‘cute. Lil’ small for ya, dontcha think?’
His words left you speechless and in the next week you spent some time shopping online and spending your savings on s little special number for Daryl’s eyes only. On the day your dad had to work a double shift you had called Daryl over and started to prepare as soon as he confirmed he was going.
This was the first time you were going to be having sex for real instead of just fucking yourselves in front of your phone cameras. You had already showered in the morning to save as much time as possible. You didn’t need to do your hair and your makeup was going to be ruined anyways so you just dressed in your baby pink lacy number with the open crotch and pink leather collar that held a large metal ring.
To finish off the look you had custom ordered a set of realistic wolf ears and a matching tail buttplug. Your knee high socks were white with pink stripes at the top and pink paw pas printed at the bottoms of your feet. You threw on a robe to welcome your visitor into the house and quickly led him up to your room.
“So whatcha got under here, huh?” His hands wasted no time and went to pluck at the ribbon holding your robe closed, untying it and throwing it to the side, taking in your lace covered body and exposed cunt. From the top of your furry ears to the bottoms of your padded feet you were looking like the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on. You bit your lip and did a little twirl for him, wiggling your ass at him to make sure he saw your little tail and turned back around to pull at your collar as you looked up at him.
“Ya really want me ta breed ya like yer a little bitch in heat.” His fingers hooked into the ring on your collar and pulled you closer, taking one of your hands and shoving it down the front of his pants. You squeezed his hard member and moaned at the idea of him buried deep inside of you.
“Alright puppy, why dontcha lay down all pretty for me, I’ll join ya in a sec.” He quickly undressed as you laid down, spread out for him on your kingsize bed. A pair of shining blue eyes followed your every move and as he made his way up to you he rolled his shoulders and snarled, hunching over as he climbed onto the bed and changing, shifting into his beast form that was at least twice his normal size. Looking up from the large fangs in your face as he lapped at you, to the enormous knotted member that put any of your toys to shame you suddenly realized Daryl’s joke that day.
“P.. Please- prep me first.” Your voice stammered and Daryl only laughed as to mock you but he still moved down until his muzzle was level with your cunt. He took a long whiff of your soaked smell before lapping at your folds and shoving the full length of his tongue inside of you.
The moan you let out was almost pornographic. So much it even shocked you with how loud you were. Looking down you were met with Daryl’s top jaw covering your lower belly as his tongue kept working your insides and his lower fangs poked at the fat of your ass. He let out an experimental growl that had you clench around his tongue. “Ahh fuck again..” Your wish as quickly fulfilled as he kept up his growls, sending jolts of pleasure through you as you squirmed under his hold all the way up to your highest pitched whines that left you as you came hard around his tongue. The appendage was slowly pulled out of you and lapped up everything that managed to spill from your lower lips. You were a heaving mess and you hadn’t even touched his cock, letting you know how insanely ruined he as going to leave you when he was done with you.
With heavy movements he positioned himself above you again, his mouth open and tongue still lolling out of his maw. With two clawed fingers he pulled your mouth wide open and let a glob of drool fall onto your tongue so you could taste yourself. He kept your jaw shut and rubbed your throat with his other fingers like you’d do to a pet that had to swallow its medicine, and swallow you did. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to show it was all gone.
With some more heavy moves Daryl moved himself comfortably onto the bed a hold of you and maneuvered you around to a fuckable position. Your hands were held above your head and one leg was pulled up against your chest as he rutted his hips against you, pressing his tip between your folds and moving further in with every thrust.
Choked gasps left you after he pressed in only halfway. The burning sensation of being stretched on his girth was one thing but you never had any of your toys, knots included fill you this deep. It hurt but there was no way you were going to make him stop. You wanted him so deep you could feel him poke your lungs. His face came down to lick at your cheeks, taking away any spilling tears and held your rocking hips still in a large paw as he slowly worked himself all the way in. You were so small compared to him, if he pushed in any further he’d tear your insides. He needed to take it slow until he as fully sheathed, but as soon as he was he could really set that breeding pace you so desperately wanted to experience. You looked down at his member being almost fully inside of you, only an inch and a half left between his knot and your lips. You watched as short ruts moved his cock in and out, the outline of it showing through the skin of your belly.
With his cock fully sheathed and his knot resting against your stretched lips he gave you a moment to breathe. His heaving breaths fanning your face while you rubbed your palms over the stretched skin of your stomach.
When you gave him the okay he started at a slow, steady pace and slowly worked up to the gut-wrenching breeding his bitch in heat pace he had promised you when he came in.
Rick came home earlier than he expected and to his surprise, found Daryl’s bike in his driveway. Normally when he came over he’d send a text and never go further than the garage. He didn’t thing too much of it any further and would find his brother when he’d find him.
Except the lower floor of the house was empty. Maybe he had gone off to the store to pick up new cigarettes.
He trudged up the stairs on his way to go take a shower, hearing the familiar sounds of monstrous growling coming from your room as he walked past.
Except why weren’t those sounds accompanied by the usual hight pitched woman’s screams or haunting background music?
What he did hear was something he hoped never to hear. “So close..” sounded your voice from behind the door. Without thinking twice his hand went to the handle, not knowing he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.
There, in the middle of your plush bed laid you, ass right at the centre of his view, a plush tail dangling between your cheeks as your upper body laid splayed out across the pillows. Heaving chest exposed and covered in bleeding puncture wounds. A thick, pink leather collar around your neck and fuzzy ears on top of your head. One of your legs was raised up against the torso of what he knew for a fact to be his best friend in his changed form, currently balls deep fucking into his daughter. A large paw moved to cover your view of the room’s entrance as a thumb pressed past your lips and Daryl bared his teeth at the man in the door opening, signaling it was time to leave. Hands raised in defeat as Rick stepped back out of his daughter’s room and let the beast pick up his pace again right before he managed to close the door fully.
Your muffled moans sounded through the door as he decided to head out and go for a long walk around the neighborhood to make sure he wouldn’t catch any more of that ever.
“Ah Daryl, please..” You were so close again you were begging him to finish with you. You were so sore you were almost willing to beg him to stop. “Please, so close..” With your hands released again you reached down to squeeze at his knot, hoping he’d get the hint that you really wanted him to finish.
His head moved down to lick at your mouth as he sped up his thrusts, his knot pressing down harder against your lips every time. His tongue pressed past your lips and shoved down your throat as he tongue fucked your mouth. A padded finger rubbing at your clit had your eyes rolling back and your walls clamping down around his length, right as he rutted into you hard. His knot pressed inside of you and with a harsh pull it made it known it was really stuck inside of you.
You awoke the next morning with your thighs stuck together with dried cum and a naked human Daryl cuddling you.
As you tried to carefully get out of bed unnoticed you were made aware of Daryl being awake as well and grumbling a good morning as you moved over him to grab a robe and go clean yourself up as Daryl took some more time being comfortable in your bed.
All cleaned up and dressed in some underwear you went back to your room to find Daryl dressed and fishing through your hidden shoebox of toys.
“Ahem?” Making your presence known and passing him to grab some comfortable house clothes. You let him know you were gonna go make some breakfast and pray your dad had already left, but that prayer was quickly shot down by Daryl announcing he could hear your dad rummage around in the kitchen and you were going to have to face him.
Daryl offered to join you to soften the blow. You were too fucked out yesterday to realize your father had seen you two, also thanks to Daryl’s large paw obscuring your view of the door.
Once downstairs the two of you made your way into the kitchen, treading lightly and delicately wishing your dad a good morning as you went to make coffee for you and Daryl.
Without looking up from his morning papers Rick spoke. “I don’t want you ever doing that again in my house, understood?”
You shrunk into yourself before looking up in realization. “Y… You.. heard us?”
Daryl scoffed from the other side of the kitchen, seemingly unaffected by all of it. “Did more than just hear us. Gonna have nightmares for years.”
The pot of coffee shook in your trembling hands, almost spilling all over the counter. The idea of your father seeing you like you in such a filthy way had your stomach in knots.
The sound of papers crumpling and hands slamming onto the counter had you jump, dropping the spoon to the floor with a loud clatter.
“I trusted you with Daryl’s secret because you had an interest in those movies. Not so you could use it your for own.. Pleasure.” He had a hard time even saying it out loud, let alone look you in the eyes as he said it but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to do anything about it. You were an adult after all. “In fact if you’re adult enough to make such decisions you are old enough to find your own place to do that stuff, but not under my roof.”
All the while he still hadn’t looked up from his now messed up papers.
You stood there with tears in your eyes, terror and anxiety washing over you all at once, uncertain about what to even respond to such words.
“Well,” Not even a single heartbeat later Daryl spoke up. “Looks like we’re headin’ back upstairs ta pack yer stuff.” Ha strode over to your side to move you back around. “M’takin’ ya home t’ma cabin.”
~~☆☆☆~~
A/N: Will I ever stop writing monsterfuckery? Absolutely not.
#sometimes i write#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd#the walking dead#twd au#twd fanfiction#werewolf#werewolves#monster x human#human x monster#monster fucker#tw monsterfucking
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#negan smith#twd negan#negan#daryl imagines#negan x daryl#daryl dixion imagine#twd daryl#the walking dead negan#negan and daryl#neryl#dog twd#twd ships#twd au#twd#negan twd#mpreg k!nk#mpreg roleplay#mpreg birth#mpreg belly#preg k!nk#pregblr#male pregnancy#pregnant#pregnancy#daryl dixon imagine#daryl fanfiction#mpregnancy#mpreg art#mpreg#super preggo
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did anyone miss me:3c -🦡
Context ⬇️
little au(?) where Philip gets a redemption arc and basically still feels guilty so he tries to repay for everything he has done in any way he can, which is mostly overworking himself so he can be useful to Alexandria
about his eyepatch: I hc he would have a different, more comfortable one, with a leather belt to go around his head or something like that
#philip blake#the governor#the walking dead#twd#rick grimes#david morrissey#zombie#michonne hawthorne#michonne#au#headcanon#twd au#twd fanart
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Hello, sorry to bother but your askbox said ninjago requests are open, would you mind drawing cyrus borg?
Who said disabled people can't kick ass in a zombie apocalypse?
Probably not exactly what you were looking for, but it is Cyrus! I have to combine my current two favorite medias somehow!!
I HAVE to draw Cyrus sniping someone, the mental image of him doing that is way too good
Either that or him choking someone out on the ground, feel like he would be an absolute menace who refuses to die
#ninjago#lego ninjago#twd#the walking dead#twd au#ninjago au#ninjago cyrus borg#ninjago pixal#cyrus borg#pixal borg
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Caryl in 3 of my aus -- Dinos, Wings of Fire, MLP
Dinos and MLP based off ss11 while dragons based off ss1-2 :]
#twd au#twd#daryl dixon#carol peletier#carol twd#daryl twd#caryl#the walking dead#wings of fire au#twd wof au#wof#twd dino au#twd mlp au
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Hes going to murder some people and it'd be well deserved...
#tales of arcadia#wizards tales of arcadia#hisirdoux casperan#toa wizards#honey's art#twd au#twd crossover#the walking dead crossover#the walking dead au#the walking dead
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