The two faves all the way 🤞🏼
daryl dixon & kinks.
top male reader.
CHOKING.
hes obsessed with the how easily your larger hands fit over his neck, how gentle you are as you squeeze and watch his eyes flutter close. your fingers are constantly dancing around his neck, just teasing. its gets him riled up and he has to actively try to not think dirty.
if hes riding you, he'll drag your hand off of his hip and up his body, urging you to take your grip and squeeze and squeeze until he comes all over your stomaches. other than that, he adores taking your fat cock down his throat, and letting his spit pool up there. he gets lightheaded but enjoys just sitting there on his knees, taking you all.
MARKING.
at first, he wanted to avoid any marks. he already disliked pda- and he didnt want the rest of the group knowing what he got up to with you. eventually as the years passed, he didnt mind a few hickeys making their way up his skin and below his jaw. the feeling of being owned- of others knowing that you did that to him, it got him off. that doesn't mean those are the only marks he has though. youre ruthless when youve got him to yourself: sucking dark and purple bruises into his inner thighs or below his nipple or on the curve of his ass. you'd take any skin you could get. daryl pretends he hates the sting of it- but really it gets him hard when he sees the reminders of how hard you fucked him the other night.
PRAISE.
more than anything, he wants to make you proud. he looks to you for everything- from the smallest to the biggest of things. if youre giving him directions during sex, he'll try his damndest to follow through. he's not really a brat; he doesnt find pleasure in failing you. all he wants to hear is how good he takes it, how good he's being for you, how pretty he looks with his legs wrapped around you.
DEGRADATION&HUMILIATION.
although he doesn't really find pleasure in failing you, his cock'll start twitching if you get a little mean. he cant help but agree whenever you call him pathetic, because he knows its true. your mocking tone thats just shy of cruel, the names you call him- all of it was true. he'd only apologize and nod, tears brimming his eyes and hair falling in his face.
HAIR PULLING.
with his long hair constantly falling in his face, you were bound to be a little rough sooner or later. the way you can take control so easily just by pulling has him weak for you- and who doesnt know it?
EDGING.
"cant you take a little more?" youve got your fingers wrapped around daryls dick, tugging and tugging and playing at his sensitive slit. "i mean, look how good im makin' you feel. least you could do is hold out a little longer, right?" it was a game to you, and he could barely hang on. edging him is the fastest way to get him whimpering, crying, gasping. on one hand, he just wants to come all over your hand, paint your face with it- but on the other, he wants to be able to make you proud. hes usually got a 50-50 chance of making it.
MANHANDLING.
one of things that might just embarrass him the most: manhandling. daryl was more than capable of handling himself. he was considered one of the more stronger people in his group. but none of that mattered next to you. you were broader, bulkier, stronger. he loves getting fucked against a wall, the thrill of someone even seeing, how easy it was for you to maneuver him in whatever position you wanted. maybe if you were hard enough youd leave hand prints.
man im obsessed with him☹️
another one of my favorite daryl edits!!
edit by @hornsbyfear on tiktok!!
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Carl Grimes x Shane's Son Male reader
slightly aged up just for plot reasons
You did not have a good relationship with your dad.
He was practically two different people in public and private. In private you were mostly ignored, but if you weren't, then you were just a disappointment.
All because of Carl and Lori Grimes.
Nothing you could do would make him proud, he would throw you away in the blink of an eye if it meant taking Rick's place.
You and Carl used to get along, but you couldnt help but push him away, atleast it could be played off with you being older and teen moods.
Rick tried to include you, he was more of a dad to you than Shane, talking, playing, sports, just spending time but it just hurt.
So when the apocalypse starts, it's not a suprise you just happen to be left.
You somehow made your way to a farm, hoping it would be abandoned, but of course it wasn't and a woman on a horse came at you.
That's how you ended up joining the Greene family. It was hard. You actually got cared for, you practically were adopted
But then a boy was shot and Hershel had to help, and of course the people you honestly never wanted to see again had to show up.
Rick almost choked you with the hug he gave, Shane wasn't back yet, still out with Otis. The man who was teaching you to hunt with a gun because a knife won't always work.
Your dad came back, alone. You were already Maggie and Beth's brother, but Otis was like an older brother. And now he's gone.
When Carl woke up, Rick with all good intent, told him you were here. You would think it was magic how quickly he healed enough to go looking for you.
He was so insistent. Didn't matter how much you walked away, or replied rudely, he would just follow you everywhere.
For Carl, it was worth getting shot, because now you're back! He missed how you two hung out and when everything went down he didn't think he would ever see you again.
Everything was horrible with Shane, his whole group didn't even know you existed, even worse when they thought Shane was Carl's dad at the very beginning.
The Greene family were on edge around Shane, sometimes even getting hostile if he started crossing the line against their brother and son.
Rick had to step in and tell Shane to leave you alone until they found Sophia, because Hershel warned him they'd get kicked out if it continued.
Your relationship progressed without you or Carl noticing, but everyone else did.
Carl included you in everything, and included himself in anything you did.
It was hard to get over the jealousy, but with Shane gone and how Carl seemed so happy to spend time with you, like you were the greatest thing in the world, it was easier to heal.
Maggie was having the time of her life teasing you, hypocritical considering her and Glenn can't leave eachother alone.
What pushed you two to date was when Lori died. Daryl asked you to look after Carl, so you did. Spending time in his cell, getting him outside for some fresh air, just talking to him.
When he wanted some private time, you cared for Judith instead. Hershel joked that neither you or Beth should think about having a baby antime soon.
Maggie, humorous as always, told him there was no worry on your side unless Carl could get pregnant.
It was later when Carl came out of his cell, you were still looking after Judith while Beth made milk and Glenn helped Maggie make some food.
That night, you stayed up with Carl. He was struggling to sleep lately, so you stayed up until he fell asleep. This night he just started crying.
So you just hugged him. Nobody spoke. The only sound was Carl hiccuping and breathing while you wrapped your arm around his shoulder.
When Carl quieted down, he turned to see you, but you were already looking at him. And you were close.
It was easier to push away any feelings before, there was no time to think over feelings, more important things were happening.
But here you were face to face and before you knew it Carl kissed you.
Carl is practically your owner and you're the guard dog. Stubborn is your middle name, but one whisper of your name from Carl and you listen.
He never gets over the butterflies or blushing, you hold his hand and he's practically burning and trying to hold his smile back.
You constantly were protecting him. There was technically no need, he could take care of himself perfectly fine, but you insisted on it.
Sometimes it got annoying to him and he'd snap, Rick would end up explaining that you just care for him and dont want him to get hurt.
It's free entertainment for the adults watching you two go through a relationship.
You both sneak away from the group to make out, but when youre on the road its harder and Carl really doesn't want to make out in front of anyone, especially his dad.
You do end up breaking that rule one day, you were with Michonne after the prison fell, and when you found him you both just ran to eachother.
Cuddles are mandatory.
You have to be watched when eating, because you will just give Carl your food if it means he's healthier, Carl was not happy when he found this out.
Carl loves being pampered by you but he'll pretend he doesn't, but if you can't for whatever reason it doesn't feel right.
this is based off the Carl fic i have with the same premise, i might end up putting it on ao3...
would it be controversial to say that i want him to beat me bloody then hold me close and pet my hair as he tells me that im his and ill never need anybody else but him (im a mentally ill teenage boy)
video made by me
Hot baby Reedus ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, language Warnings: Slurs (homophobic), Merle Dixon is his own warning, mention of Merle’s SS symbol, typical southern prejudice/homophobia, neck kissing, anal fingering, anal sex, cockwarming, hand job, cuddling, top Merle and bottom Reader Summary: After striking out with every woman in camp, Merle turns to you and ignores the gay aspect of sleeping with another man in favor of getting laid. A/N: Imagine my lack of surprise but utter disappointment in finding no male reader shit for Merle. Written out of spite. Enjoy.
After a third pill and a third strikeout, Merle is almost certain he’ll have to handle himself tonight. No woman in the whole damn camp wants any action, even with a touch of good ol’ Southern charm Merle attempted. Not a bite from anyone. So Merle stumbled through the cluster of tents, only half as high as he’d like to be and blue balls stiff between his legs. Just as he’s about to turn a corner towards his tent on the outskirts with his brother’s, he catches a pretty sight.
Not that Merle is gay. Of course not. But the man is asleep with his tent partly unzipped, shirt off and back arched like a damn whore. How could Merle not stare just a little. His eyes trail over your back, bare and just fuzzied by the drugs in his system that he may mistake things enough to ignore the dick between your legs.
So he kicks your foot, waking you up.
Your hand goes to your knife first, then you turn to see it’s not something dead behind you. “What, Merle?”
“Ya a queer?”
You squint at him, off put by the way he says it. “Why’re you asking?”
He shrugs. “Fella can’t be curious.”
“Not with that Nazi symbol on your bike you can’t.” You close your hand around your knife. “Go away.”
Merle chuckles, raising his hand in mock surrender. “Woah, woah, there… I was just askin’.”
You stare at him for a moment. “Fine. Yeah, I like men. I’m a queer. Are we done here?”
Merle bites at the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with the right words. “Ya let me fuck ya?”
“What?” You ask, sitting up to look at him properly.
Merle scoffs. “Ya heard me. Would ya?”
“Why would you-“
“Ladies ‘round here bein’ stingy.” Merle shrugs. “Hole’s a hole.”
“You’re joking.” You say in disbelief.
“Ain’t like I never fucked an ass before. It’s the same shit.”
You shake your head. “No, it’s really not.”
“Aw, come on, I’ll be quick.” Merle attempts a pout. “Ain’t no trouble.”
You sigh, shaking your head because you know it’s a dumb idea somewhere deep down. “Fine.”
Merle grins. “Atta boy.”
“Get on with it then.” You sigh, watching Merle step inside. “Zipper.”
Merle turns and zips the tent closed behind him, fumbling with it for longer than any regular person would. When he turns his hands go straight to his belt.
You watch his fingers move for a second. “You ever fucked another man before.”
Merle snorts. “Course not. I ain’t a queer.”
“It’s a little different, you know.”
“What?” Merle sneers. “I gotta play with yer pecker er somethin’?”
You shake your head. “Not necessarily. But you have to stick your fingers in for a while and stretch things out.”
“Yer just picky.”
“Maybe. Just do it, asshole, or I’m not gonna let you fuck anything.”
Merle pulls his belt free. “Fine. Pants off then, sweetheart.”
You huff, annoyed at Merle already, but it’s been far too long since you’ve had this chance. You pull your pants off, ignoring Merle’s eyes on your legs and turn around to lay on your stomach.
“Alright.” Merle grins, shuffling up behind you and nudging your legs apart. “What am I doin’ here, sweetheart?”
You turn your head back, half wanting to see the sight. “Put your fingers in your mouth.”
“Why?”
“Spit’s the only lube we have.” You mutter. “Just do it.”
Merle glares slightly, but does as he’s told and presses three fingers past his lips. He sucks on them, his other hand already going to your hip. It’s clear he’s never been the type to do this with any of the women he’s been with either. Without prompting, he drops the hand down and traces until he finds your rim.
“Ya ready for Merle’s magic fingers, boy?”
“Shut up.”
Merle chuckles, circling his finger around before slowly pushing inside. “Whew…” Merle exclaims. “Tight little thing, ain’t ya?”
You open your mouth to speak but Merle’s finger drags against your prostate and all you can manage is a groan as you bury your face down into your pillow.
He leans over you, his hand moving up to grip at the bare skin of your chest. “I find somethin’ good?”
You nod, mindlessly pushing back into him. “Fuck, Merle…”
He repeats the drag, his fingers moving quickly to fuck whatever sounds he can get out of you. You don’t expect much more, but he leans down and presses his lips to your neck. He trails sloppy kisses over your skin, his fingers fully thrusting into you at a quick pace.
“You want me?” Merle murmurs next to your ear. “Want Merle to fuck ya better than some fairy ever could, don’t ya?”
“Yeah…” You answer, spreading your legs as much as you can. “Why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Merle grins against your skin. “You just be a good boy. You’re good at that.”
He sits back up, removing his fingers and positioning himself properly behind you. His hands fix on your waist, pulling you back and propping you up on your widespread knees. You feel his tip press against you for just a second before he presses inside. There certainly isn’t enough lubrication or preparation, so the stretch of being entered hurts just enough to make a few whines form in your throat. Merle pushes all the same, stretching you open and filling you up with everything he has.
He groans as he bottoms out, running a hand over your spine. “You feel so damn good, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hip slightly. “Might turn me gay…”
Before you can think much about that, Merle begins to piston his hips at a quick pace. Both of his hands grip tightly at your hips and the force of his thrusts presses you forward into your pillow, only held up at the waist for Merle to fuck into you properly. You let him, relaxing into the hold and letting him use you because the slide of his dick hitting your prostate feels better than anything else. Merle pushes you down to lay flat, leaning over you and rocking into you as his head dips against your shoulder. The sleeping bag below you rubs at your dick with every thrust Merle gives you.
“Knew I liked you.” Merle mutters, half to himself. “Better than any damn woman… shit, sweetheart.”
Merle’s hips stutter and he groans as he releases, burying himself as deep as he can into you. You take heavy breaths as Merle relaxes on top of you, trying to ignore the squirming feeling of not having finished. Then Merle’s hand snakes under you, pumping furiously fast and gripping hard until you mutter his name and your vision blurs for a moment as you spurt cum onto your sleeping bag.
His hand slows to a massaging tempo and you can hear him inhaling strongly. “Ya gotta let me do that again sometime, boy.” He murmurs. “God, yer making me inta a queer.”
“Happy to help.” You mutter, still catching your breath.
Merle chuckles, letting both arms encircle you as he fully lets himself relax on top of you. “So ya liked my dick in ya?”
You bury your head into your pillow, avoiding his annoying question.
Merle chuckles. “Lemme sleep here?”
“Whatever.”
“Can I fuck ya in the mornin’?”
“If you want.”
He grins, settling his lips right next to your ear. “Ya gonna help keep little Merle warm all night too?”
You groan as he pushes against you, his soft dick still filling you and linking the both of you together. “Just sleep, jackass.”
He chuckles again. “Whatever you say, queer.”
Hey bad boy ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
Michonne and Carl <3
Rick and Coral doodles for today. I accidentally like The Walking Dead now.
THE FUCKING MUSCLES THE MUSCLES THE MUSCLES IM SAYING IT AGAIN HE NEEDS TO PUT ME IN A HEADLOCK RIGHT FUCKING NOW CRUSH ME TO DEATH WITH THOSE ARMS NOW NOW NOW PLEASE I NEED IT I NEED HIM TO RUIN ME I NEED HIM TO FUCK ME UP I NEED HIM TO MANHANDLE ME WITH THOSE BIG HANDS. PLEASE THROW ME AROUND THE ROOM USE ME PLEASE
espial: "the action of watching or catching sight of something or someone."
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