#and carl closes himself off

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

debbie, worried and upset over her brother’s illness, talking about how she feels in a way that a dumb teenager would: “he’s totally monica.”

carl, worried and upset over his brother’s illness, talking about how he feels in a way that a dumb teenager would: “what’s it like to be crazy?”

the response we get for debbie: what an insensitive, annoying, bratty bitch.

the response we get for carl: aw, what a good brother. he really cares.

[fideidefenswhore]

'Thus he ended his speech, and he doesn't say That he had wronged or spoken ill of the king, But he prayed that God long keep the king In life, in happiness, [in honour], and in contentment. And when, to the people in attendance, he said, With a steadfast countenance, "Pray for me," With a firm heart he presented his head To the sharp blade that carried it off in one blow. [And not fearing the great cruelty Of the sharp blade [...] Each one seeing that people bore great grief from it] The [three] who had to die afterwards Said nothing, as if they intentionally Had entrusted Rochford Alone to speak for their conscience [...] [The Queen] was still so curious [...] Therefore, they tell her that her brother had shown The greatest strength of any man ever seen [...] The story of the death of Anne Boleyn : a poem by Lancelot de Carle, JoAnn DellaNeva (Translator, Editor, Writer of added commentary)

"'I will,' he said in a good lawyerly fashion, 'not in this point arouse any suspicion which might prejudice the king's issue.' Unwilling to drop his line of questioning, Hales next claimed that George had spread malicious reports which called into question the paternity of Anne's child, Elizabeth. George did not dignify this with an answer. He knew his own sister." Hunting the Falcon, John Guy & Julia Fox

"But George refused to answer the question with the required yes or no, not wishing, he said, “to engender or create suspicion in a matter likely to prejudice the issue the King might have from another marriage.” Nor would he respond to any suggestion that he had spread a rumour that Elizabeth was not Henry’s. The idea that he believed Elizabeth was not the king’s child and that he had repeated such an untruth was, to George, so contemptible that he would not even dignify it with a reply." The Infamous Lady Rochford, Julia Fox

"George Boleyn's real 'crime' was to be Anne Boleyn's brother and Princess Elizabeth's uncle. He was intelligent and spirited enough to mount a powerful defence of his sister. He was powerful enough to provide the focus for Boleyn followers and, especially, those who would assert Elizabeth's rights as heir to the crown." Anne Boleyn, Josephine Wilkinson

[zomb-core]

۫ ꣑ৎ A TRIM || carl grimes x female reader

summary: carl refused to let anyone near his hair after losing his mom, but when he desperately needs a trim he goes to the person he trusts most, you.

(intended lowercase)

warnings: mentions of losing a parent.

pure fluff

“a trim, got it?”

carl twisted around in the chair he was sitting on to face you, you could tell he was nervous and you understood why. he hadn't cut his hair since he was 13, lori used to give him haircuts and he couldn't bring himself to let anyone else do it after she died, until now.

you currently stood behind him, a pair of shears held in your dominant hand while your other held a comb and spray bottle. “yes, a trim, I got it. now, are you gonna sit still and let me start?” you teased, a brief laugh passing your lips.

he nodded, removing the bandage from around his face and setting it on the counter next to his hat. “yeah, just please be careful—”

“carl.” you interrupted, making eye contact with him through the mirror, taking in his worried expression. “I know how important your hair is to you and I will be very careful, I just need you to trust me.”

he caught his lip between his teeth before giving you a curt nod and straightening his posture. “okay.”

you gave him a reassuring smile followed by a gentle kiss to the top of his head before starting. you grabbed a section of his hair, spraying it with the water until it was drenched, repeating this until his hair was thoroughly soaked. you didn't have a lot of experience with cutting hair and you were beyond nervous, but when he came to you and asked you if you would give him a trim you didn't have the heart to tell him no.

you took a deep breath before grabbing a decent portion of hair, bringing the comb to it and running it through it, stopping about an inch from the bottom, holding it up so carl could see it, “how's that?”

“that's fine.” he concluded after a few moments of staring at it, closing his eyes tightly when you brought the scissors up to his hair.

you hesitated. you knew how important this was to him, when he told you stories about his mom your heart would ache for him, and his hair was one of the only things left he could relate to her besides judith and messing this up would break his heart.

the sound of the scissors snipping the hair caused you both to flinch, you watching the hair fall to the tiled floor.

you exchanged a glance with him to make sure he was still comfortable, and you continued, copying your previous cut over and over again until you had chopped roughly the same length of hair off of every section.

the bathroom was completely silent minus the sound of the scissors and you shuffling around, neither of you could bring yourselves to speak, both too focused on your movements to say anything.

eventually, you finished the larger part of his hair and all that was left was his bangs. you walked around so you could be face to face with him, examining the way his bangs framed his face. “okay..” you mumbled, grabbing the larger portion of his bangs between your index and middle finger using them as a guide and you worked on his fringe while trying to avoid getting any hair in the open wound on his face. once you were satisfied with how that side looked, you moved onto the other side, making a few quick snips before setting the scissors down and stepping back to admire your work.

“what do you think? did I do okay?”

he stood up, leaning closer to the mirror to examine his hair as you watched him anxiously, awaiting his reaction. you rocked back and forth on your heel, your hands interlaced behind your back, “carl?” you tried, becoming extremely paranoid that you had messed up, but your worry was quickly brought to an end when he wrapped his arms around you.

“it looks great, thank you.”

your worried expression was replaced by a geeky smile, and you returned his hug, giving him a tight squeeze. “oh thank god, I was so worried.” you laughed, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose,

“thank you, by the way.” he looked confused at your statement, tilting his head to the side slightly, “for what?”

“for trusting me, I know that this was hard for you and i’m glad you trusted me of all people.”

he ducked his head down and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, smiling against the exposed skin, “i’m glad I did, too.”

masterlist

[sleepyangelkami]

PERVERTED II c.grimes

 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 3.5K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - carl decides to go through with this weeks saturday sleepover. so far, he's been able to control himself. until, that is, he hears you whimper his name in your sleep.

 𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, slight angst, somnophilia, thigh riding (kinda), fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, wet dreams, sex dreams, innocence kink, corruption kink, dom!carl, sub!reader, noncon, heavy manipulation, use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

series masterlist

"you sure you don't wanna come?" rick questioned as he took a box from his son, landing it inside the back of the truck. "we could use the help."

carl watched his dad place a hand on his hip before shaking his head, hand on his hat. "no, i promised y/n i'd stay over. can't miss saturday sleepover can i?" he'd laughed yet he knew he wouldn't wish to miss it for the world, either. rick gave him a look, lips slightly perking up as if he knew something. "what?"

rick wasn't born yesterday either. he was well aware what it was like to have a silly crush, especially at that age. but this... this was much different. "nothin'" before packing in the last box. "you be good, alright? don't ruin the house while glenn and maggie are gone."

the two were going on the supply run with him, along with many more of the fighters. "bye, dad." watching him get into the rusted car.

and so, the day went on.

by the time lunch rolled around, carl still hadn't seen you. however, he wasn't entirely alone. he soon found ron who decided to help him look for you. in return, you'd also be looking for his also missing girlfriend, enid.

"they're always running off." ron muttered under his breath. he knew enid was close with you, possibly your best friend had carl not been thrown into the mix. enid was always running off with you, slinging you around by the arm. "hey, what's the deal with you two anyway?" carl's head peeked up, brows knitting together. "is she like your girlfriend or something?"

his mind moved like puzzle pieces. girlfriend. carl had never had a girlfriend before but he was pretty sure you had to kiss and all that to actually be in a relationship. then again, you don't touch yourself with your 'friend's panties sitting on your dick. he cleared his throat. "no... no we're not together."

saying you were his friend didn't seem all too right but saying you weren't his girlfriend didn't seem right either. you were something.

but ron didn't look convinced, rolling his eyes with his brows raising slightly. "whatever, dude." was it really all that obvious to everyone aside from you? carl thought that if there was a competition on the most oblivious person alive, you'd win.

but perhaps that was the easier option. would he have preferred you to know? everything seemed so easy with the fact that you were so oblivious. it was like a reminder that he could do anything he wanted right under your nose.

"finally." hearing the mutter from ron, carl looked up. this was when he was met with the sight of you, as pretty as ever, sat next to enid on a bench near the town's pond.

carl could barely look at you. the way you sat with your legs folded, smiling away innocently, completely unaware of what he'd done last night. you wore a pretty skirt, enough to slightly hike up your legs, giving carl a view of the pretty plush of your thighs.

he could only imagine digging his hands around the plush, holding it and kneeding the skin. he could only imagine grasping your thighs, holding them close while he rammed his di―

"there you guys are!" ron exclaimed causing carl to shake his head, ridding himself of the thoughts he'd been having. "carl and i were looking all over for you." he had this voice he used when he spoke to girls, one that carl could guarantee was not the voice he used with him.

enid only rolled her eyes. the sight of her boyfriend and carl was enough to have her smile drop. "well, we weren't looking for you." she mumbled. some may say she didn't like anyone aside from you, not even her own boyfriend. carl didn't think there was much of a point of being with someone that you didn't even like. "hence the getaway pond."

ron must have thought she was joking because he came up to pinch her side and kiss her cheek. the sight alone had carl's stomach turning.

however, the sweet sound of your lulling voice was enough to bring him back. "hi, carl." you beamed at him, smile as wide as ever. he hadn't even registered you moving from the bench to his side. all he remembered was the feeling of you snaking in next to him, your body so close. suddenly, he felt so dirty. "we were feeding the ducks." smiling like a child on christmas. you always smiled like that, like you had a thousand things to be smiling about. it always made carl wonder if you were truly made for this world at all.

when he was around you, he was fighting off his own smile. yours was so contagious. the way his lips curved upwards told you he was happy for you, he always was. "that's great ba― y/n." correcting himself as his expression faltered, smile wavering.

he watched as your entire face fell.

he was unable to bring himself to call you those cute names. baby, sweetheart, like an old couple who'd spent their entire lives together. he couldn't bring himself to say such things after he imagined himself fucking you just the night before. it didn't seem right, not when you were so oblivious to the dirtiness behind his words.

the smile wiped clean from your face, carl was sure you could have cried.

you reminded him somewhat of a kicked puppy.

he'd been the one to kick you.

he never called you y/n, unless speaking to someone else like his father or even ron. this was because they'd hardly understand who you were if he was referring to you as sweetheart.

the point was, he only used your name if it was wholeheartedly necessary.

you wondered what'd changed.

your mind ran back to the night before. when he'd entered your house, looking awfully suspicious and at the sight of you, he practically rushed out the door. had you done something wrong? your heart ached at the idea that you may have upset him. a heart of gold, some people said you had. carl had to beg to differ. the look on your face explained all he needed to know, a heart of mere paper.

he regretted it the moment he said it.

he knew how you got, how all up in your head you could be. he could only imagine how you'd be for the rest of the day, going over every interaction you've ever had with the boy and wondering where everything went wrong, where you messed up.

the moment your name slipped from his lips, he thought it may have been better to call you anything else in the entire world. even if it was laced with the dirty undertone.

he felt your body move slightly away from his, eyes cast down on the ground to avoid any glances. "'m gonna go see aaron." you announced, rather loudly too.

"okay." enid responded, her eyes glancing you over before turning to carl, a slight glare, if you will. she didn't particularly like carl, though carl hadn't the foggiest idea why. perhaps it was because she was so protective of you. carl had to roll his eyes, if anyone knew what was good for you, it was him. "don't stay out too late."

you didn't respond, grasping your bag that sat at the bench before turning onto the footpath.

carl had to purse his lips. "wrong way." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

with slightly wide eyes, you realised he was right. spinning around on your heel, you began walking left instead of right. "thanks." you mumbled under your breath before continuing your walk to one of your favourite people in the entirety of alexandria.

back at the pond, carl was cursing himself under his breath before turning around to find two accusing pair of eyes sat on the bench. one pair belonged to enid, the other to ron. "what did you do?" was enid's accusing tone, her face hard as stone. carl was on the receiving end of this look very often, he didn't fear it... well, he feared it a little but not as much as before... okay he feared it.

"what do you mean what did i do?" he instantly fell to defending himself. despite the fact that he knew he was the reason for your declining mood. "i didn't do anything."

whether it was to intimidate carl or that she smelled the sort of fish smell of ron that carl had smelt earlier, she perked up on the bench, loosening her boyfriend's arm across her shoulder. "she looks like a deflated balloon." she argued.

"yeah." ron nodded his head. carl couldn't stop the glare he sent his way, what did he know. "everyone knows aaron's like her very own guidance councillor, his boyfriend too." he shrugged his shoulders. "whatever you did, i'd say fix it quick."

the brunette boy only glared at the couple. "thanks guys, for that enlightening advice. but i don't need it, okay? i didn't do anything."

on the contrary, he was well aware that it was his fault. he needed to fix it and he needed to fix it fast but he didn't need enid and ron whispering in his ears. nobody knew you like carl, they didn't know what they were talking about. they hadn't seen you crying over some stupid movie you watched. they didn't see you smiling the way he did, they didn't take notice like him.

they'd never understand what it was like to know you. only carl would. and he'd make sure of that.

the sun was setting by the time carl had made it to your house. you'd opened the door, taking him in with your eyes before allowing him inside. maggie and glenn were on the run so the two of you headed straight towards the bedroom where'd you'd begin the movie night. however, carl was more focused on the fact that you'd spoken barely four words to him tonight rather than which disney movie you'd force him to watch this time.

he knew you were in your head but you wouldn't utter the words because what were you meant to say? hey carl, why didn't you call me baby? something so simple had ruined your entire day.

however, carl couldn't keep it in anymore. "are you okay?" he blurted out after many moments of silence as he sat atop your pink bed sheets.

you, at the foot of the bed pursed your lips. you pressed play on the movie and allowed the credits to begin. you weren't the type of person to insist that you were fine if you weren't. carl liked that about you, he never had to guess. "are you mad at me?" voice meek, like a childs.

the realisation hit carl that despite what he was feeling for you, he'd have to push it down in order to continue your friendship. at least, he couldn't take it out on you. "'course not, baby, c'mere."

the name fell from his lips like sweet relief.

it suddenly occurred to the boy that you needed him. desperately so. something as simple as calling you by your first name had thrown off your entire day. carl should have been worried, concerned even. instead, his heart fluttered a little.

you truly did rely on him.

with a sigh of relief, you found yourself crawling up to the boy. today had been so long with you being in your own head so when you felt the feeling of his hands sneak around your waist, it was like coming home after a long day at work.

you couldn't see his face but if you could, you'd see the sheer nervousness on his face. he needed to control himself but he wasn't sure how that was possible while you cuddled up against him beneath your bed sheets, clad in your pretty pale blue shorts and your white spaghetti strap top.

your knee was bent, extending over the top of his legs. there was a sharp intake of breath as your knee gently bumped against the prominent bulge in his shorts. you hadn't noticed, he knew you hadn't noticed and to make sure you wouldn't notice, he reached over to switch off the light, clearing his throat. "so, uh, what are we watching?"

"the princess frog." you answered, turning your head up to look at his face as he groaned.

a look of displeasment was evident on his face. "it's so boring!" he practically gushed.

offence hit you like a truck. "excuse me!" you battled. "i'd like to see you opening up your own restaurant all by yourself." even carl had to admit, you got him there.

carl never understood why you picked movies that you fell asleep so early during.

he heard your soft snores and your gentle breath hit the crook of his neck within the first half hour of the movie. though he couldn't blame you. truthfully, he could only blame himself in how he had your head messed up, practically knocked off your shoulders for the entire day.

it took until almost a full hour into the movie for you to stur.

at first, carl thought he'd misheard it. a little noise falling from your lips. then, he heard it again.

he held his breath as he heard the whimper leave your lips.

then, he felt it.

the gentle roll of your hips against his thigh had him practically seeing stars. the boy glanced to the tv hoping for some kind of a distraction from his obvious hard on. he couldn't wake you up, not because he actually couldn't. but because he wasn't too sure if he wanted to.

admitting it sounded like nails on a chalkboard but he'd be lying if he said he did want to. the little whimper you let out, sleepily and lowly albeit, into his ear was enough for him to almost completely loose his control.

it was like he was dreaming, it was everything he'd dreamed of, especially the night before.

you sounded even better than he'd thought.

he shouldn't have laid so still. you weren't aware of the way your hips bucked onto his leg, a little whine stretching from your lips. he reminded himself that you were too busy sleeping to understand what was going on. he couldn't engage with you, that'd be wrong.

so... wrong.

then he'd swore he heard it. "carl." a mumble in your sleep, enough for him to not know whether or not you were actually sleeping. he took a glance at your face, eyes screwed shut.

he was imagining things, he had to have been.

you soon rolled over, leaving him laying very stiffly as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening.

you were having a wet dream, obviously. that'd never happened before, at least not while cuddled up against carl. but he could have swore he heard you say his name. he shook his head, knowing he was wrong, he was so caught up in what had happened the night before that he was imagining you breathe his name.

then, he heard it again.

this time it was more stretched out into a whine. due to the movie on in the background, he could vaguely make out the way your cunt rutted onto nothingness, the mattress maybe but it wasn't enough to cause any real friction.

his mind stirred. if you really were having a dream about him, surely it was only his duty to... help?

but it was dirty, downright perverted.

but your noises were growing needier, obviously the bed wasn't enough for you to create real friction from. he had to help you. "poor girl, can't even get herself off." he mumbled under his breath, not enough to wake you up.

if he were to touch you, it wouldn't be for him. no, he was doing this for you.

he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't wake. on the contrary, you'd sleep through an asteroid should it hit your home.

he reached his hand down beneath the covers, holding his breath. he was helping you, he reminded himself, helping you. this was for you, making sure you felt good as your dream continued. your dream of him.

suddenly, he wasn't the all too dirty one. perhaps you were.

his fingers gently felt the core of your shorts, taking an intake of breath upon feeling just how wet you were. it practically seeped onto his fingers, it was a wonder if his sweatpants didn't have a wet stain on them from how you'd been rolling your hips against them.

he breathed in, gently massaging the area you needed him the most, you all but moaned into the pillow, eyes screwed shut.

carl had dreamed of this moment for as long as he lived, he wasn't ready to give it up just yet.

the way your hips jutted into his hand, creating all the friction you needed and you whimpered again, still stuck in slumber, had carl's confidence through the roof.

it was as if saying his name, he realised you wanted it just as much as he did.

how he ended beneath the covers, he wasn't too sure. perhaps it was the newfound confidence he'd gained.

he'd spent too long dreaming of this moment to stop now. he breathed as shallow as a man could before his fingers travelled back to your shorts, gently pulling them away from your aching cunt. that was when he realised you hadn't been wearing panties. did you do that often around him? had you been... expecting something?

nonetheless, carl was more than willing to give it to you.

his breath fanned your pussy, prettier than his sick mind could have ever mustered. the image would be burned into his head, it'd never leave. one thing was for sure, this boy wasn't leaving the next morning without putting his mouth to your cunt.

and that was exactly what he did.

his tongue reached your pussy, licking a long stripe and feeling your thighs jump and your body jolt. obviously, never been touched.

he knew it'd be him who touched you first. now, it was just him making sure of it.

he licked again, your wetness gathering on his tongue. he tried to hold back the groan that spread throughout your entire body. yet, you still lay sleeping. it somehow only egged him on further. he knew you wouldn't wake. to him, your body was his for the taking. and he was going to take it.

his tongue found your cute hole, hands against your thighs, holding them, trapping them down.

tongue dancing across your clit, he heard you moan even louder, still trapped by slumber. his lips curved upwards, tongue circling your clit. he moved one of his hands, using his middle finger to gently slide into your sopping hole. so wet for him, already.

he cursed enid and ron for thinking they knew you. he cursed all of the people who thought they knew you. the truth was, the only person you could ever rely on would be him, he'd make sure that you got what you needed, make sure all your needs were fulfilled at all times. perhaps this was just him making sure of that fact.

his tongue moved away from your clit, moving his other hand to meet it. he saw the way your body writhed against his hands. he couldn't wait to do this when you were awake.

it wasn't until your thighs actually began to shake that he knew what was happening. "s'pretty." he mumbled, dazed as drool practically dripped from his mouth. you truly were, the most beautiful thing he'd ever encountered his entire life.

mouth moving back to your cunt, he moved his tongue back against your clit at an alarming pace. with his now free hand, he held your thighs down, trapping them under him as your body shook against him, jutting your hips back and practically rolling your hips against his face. he relished in it. you were practically getting off to his pretty face which told him all the more just how much you loved this.

he felt your hips force themselves back to the bed, shaking and vibrating until your juices poured out onto his tongue.

you'd came.

he lapped you up without second thought, tongue dancing over your hole and licking the juices off the single finger he'd pushed inside of you.

licking his lips, he finally rose. he watched your face lull in your sleep, obviously content and finally getting your sweet relief. he gently moved your shorts to cover your pussy again, as if nothing had happened at all.

it took mere seconds for you to roll back over and onto him, cuddling against his side. he couldn't help but feel even dirtier.

you'd never even know.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[frost-queen]

Bodyguarded (Reader!Grimes x Daryl Dixon)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: Reader is Rick's younger sister. You're very sweet with a sharp tongue which Shane doesn't seem to like. Shane keeps bothering you as he finds you cocky. To your surprise is Daryl always around to keep Shane away from you eventhough he doesn't like you, right? [series]

A basket got dropped beside you. It made you look up from your crouched position. – “Seriously?” – you called out at Shane. – “You couldn’t have dropped this ten minutes ago? We are almost finished.” – you went on. Shane exhaled loud wiping his hand down his mouth. – “Why do you always have to open your big mouth.” – he replied with a soft glare. You slapped the shirt in your hand down in the water as some water splashed up. Getting all worked up by how he threated you.

Shane watched as you got up but before you could do anything had Carol jumped up with you. Moving her hands in front of you to hold you back. One look of her was enough to make you settle down. – “Just do as you are told!” – he ordered finding himself amusing. You clenched your jaw, pushing with your body against Carol’s arms as they kept you in place. Shane scoffed funnily before walking off. Sighing loud lowered Carol her arms from around her.

“Come on Y/n.” – she said softly with a gentle nod. You took another deep breath squatting down again. – “I just don’t understand why he brought this now. He knew he had laundry ten minutes ago, didn’t he.” – you spoke trying to understand why he would taunt you like this. Carol took out a shirt, splashing it into the water. – “Let’s finish this up together.”

Carol and you washed the rest of Shane’s clothing. Obeying to what you have been told. When you were done you went back with Carol to the camp. You went over to Glenn handing him his clothes back. – “Aw sweet Y/n!” – he said bowing to you as a thank you. It made you smile back. You then went over to the campfire where Daryl sat munching on some meat. You gestured in silence to his clothing, moving them up in your hands.

Daryl gave you a brief glance before continue to ignore you. You wanted to place it down as Daryl suddenly pointed at his tent. You nodded back making your way over to his tent to lay it down in the front. You barely got up when you felt two arms wrap tightly around you. It startled you making you squeak loudly. Recognizing the arms around you, you eased up.

“Do that again sweetheart I like the way you sound.” – you heard Carol’s husband comment at you. Daryl spitted on the ground turning his gaze towards him in a tight clench. You turned around glaring at him for even saying such a thing in front of Carl. Carl was still hugging you as you held your hands against his back.

Carol gave you a look of sympathy wishing she could do something against her husband’s behaviour. You turned your attention down to your nephew. You led him away from everyone. – “Stay close with him!” – you heard Shane call out to you. You looked briefly over your shoulder seeing him stand by the car, elbow leaning against the open door. You simply turned back to the front as Shane scoffed. Finding you very cocky and thinking you were full of attitude when you honestly weren’t.

You just never understood why Shane was like this towards you. Carl and you made your way towards the woods a bit drifting away from the others. – “Auntie Y/n.” – Carl said as you hummed loud as a reply. Carl jumped on top of a log balancing his way across. You remained by his side in case he lost his balance. Carl hopped off joining your side. He picked up a stick, swaying it around. – “Do you still think about dad?” – he asked as it made you stop shocked. Then you turned around to him with a sweet smile.

“Everyday little one.” – you answered stroking his cheek. Your motion slowed down feeling a sudden wave of sadness. Thinking back about your brother Rick made you emotional. Carl noticed how glossy your eyes had become. – “Sorry auntie Y/n… I didn’t mean to make you sad.” – he said feeling guilty of ever asking it. You sniffed loud, blinking your tears away. – “Don’t worry about it Carl.” – you told him with a laugh.

You straightened your posture pulling him close to your body for a hug. – “If you ever want to talk about your dad and feel like you have no one to turn to, you come to me.” – you said hugging him tightly. Some twigs snapped as it didn’t make you respond quickly enough. Before you knew it had someone grabbed your elbow, pulling you away from Carl. – “I told you to stay close!” – it was Shane who yelled at you. Holding you roughly by the elbow.

“Do you want to put Carl in danger?” – he continued shaking at your elbow. – “Do you think you can save Carl from any walkers?” – he laughed once mockingly. – “Let her go!” – Carl called out running up to Shane to pound his fists against his chest. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane made clear pushing Carl off him. – “Don’t talk to him like that!” – you answered loudly.

Shane’s face contracted with anger. He grabbed you by your neck, pushing your head down. – “I am so done with your attitude Y/n!” – he responded pulling you with him. – “No! leave her alone!” – Carl shouted at him. – “Go to your mother Carl!” – Shane roared out. Carl turned around taking a run for it while wiping his tears away.

“Shane let me go!” – you screamed trying to get his grip from on your neck. He puffed loud pushing you down onto the ground. Body hitting the ground and rolling a bit over. – “I’ve had it with you Y/n!” – he made clear pacing around. Wiping his chin. Breezing around like a hungry wolf. – “I don’t want you near him anymore. You are a bad influence.” – he spoke rubbing his hand over his head. You scoffed shockingly with an amusing undertone. – “I’m sorry. Boss!” – you snapped at him sarcastically.

Shane puffed his chest up slightly raising his hand till he stopped. Eyes widening at the feeling at the back of his head. – “You raise that hand of yours and I’ll shoot.” – you heard come from behind him. Leaning a bit to the side, you saw Daryl stand behind Shane with his crossbow against the back of his head. Shane lowered his hand again with a grunt.

Daryl moved his crossbow slightly to the side, right over his shoulder. An arrow fired. With a zap it found it’s target. Seconds later the sound of a corpse dropping. You had gasped looking over your shoulder to see the last of a walker drop down. – “Next one will be through your head.” – Daryl whispered to Shane. Shane moved storming off.

Daryl lowered his crossbow stepping over to you. He lowered his hand to you, looking away. Hesitantly you took it allowing him to pull you back up to your feet. – “Tha-“ – you started cut off by Daryl walking off. Taking a few deep breaths, you returned afterwards back to camp. Lori looked at you concerned holding Carl against her side. You simply smiled faintly at her to show her it was all right. You didn’t want her to worry. You took refuge in your tent needing time alone.

At nightfall some were sitting around the campfire. You sat near Glenn laughing silently at some funny things he said. You stopped laughing seeing Shane seemingly make his way over to you. He neared and before he could take another step had Daryl gotten up from his seat near you. His gaze stern, posture grand. Carol watched Daryl pressing her lips amusingly together.

Shane puffed with a shake of his head, turning back around. You were looking at Daryl, questionable when your eyes locked as he looked back at you. The contact was brief as Daryl seated himself back down as if nothing had occurred. Shyly smiling at yourself you couldn’t help but feel special that Daryl seemingly did seem to care for you. Otherwise he wouldn’t step in and just let Shane do whatever he likes around you.

Daryl noticed you were staring all smiley at him, making him shift his posture more away from you. You smiled looking down making briefly eye contact with Carol across the fire. Instantly you snorted knowing she was probably thinking the same. Glenn went on to talk to you as if nothing had happened.

After a few days you started to notice Daryl was more around you. Always near to keep a close eye on Shane. Whenever he even made the slightest movement towards you, he made one little movement to let Shane know if he even tried he’d be face to face with him. One day you decided to tease him about it. You were in the woods with Carol, Lori and Carl further down as you made your way over to Daryl who was keeping a watchful eye on you all.

Daryl looked uncomfortable away when you neared. – “Daryl.” – you said to greet him. – “Y/n.” – he mumbled back, looking around as if searching for walkers. You weren’t getting much out of him further so you decided to prank him. Suddenly you gasped loud as if startled. It made Daryl turn his head concerned to you. – “Is that Shane?” – you called out making Daryl turn his head again to look in the direction you were looking.

He immediately took a defensive pose before you, almost grabbing for his crossbow. When he noticed he was looking at nothing, he sighed loud. – “Damn it Y/n!” – he grunted out. – “Do you think this is funny?” – he asked looking your way. – “I do when you get so protective over me.” – you responded with a smile. Daryl rolled with his eyes. – “Like hell I care.” – he outed sounding annoyed.

You kept looking all smiley at him making it almost impossible for him to keep himself from looking back at you. – “I think you do care. Otherwise you wouldn’t keep Shane away from me.” – you told him. Daryl puffed loud. – “Maybe I just don’t like him.” – he responded with half a shrug. – “Or you just very much like me?” – you teased grabbing him by his shirt.

Daryl swallowed nervously when your noses almost touched. Daryl’s expression softened around you. His breathing tickling your lips. His expression made you blink surprised seeing the lovey dovey’s in his eyes. He moved his hand to your cheek letting it brush against it. Before he knew it he closed the gap between your lips, kissing you hard. You hummed loud, pulling away. - "So not caring are you?" - you chuckled out. - "Shut up." - Daryl answered before shutting you up with another kiss.

--------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[dixons-sunshine]

Sleepy!reader falling asleep all the time on Daryl’s shoulder,Chest,Arm anywhere in car ride or meeting with group and everyone teasing him and her about it

Sleepyhead | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Life in a world ravaged by the undead was hard. Constantly wondering where you'd find your supplies, whether your loved ones were safe and whether you'd die that day was exhausting. That exhaustion caught up with you, but thankfully, Daryl was more than willing to be your temporary pillow, even at the expense of getting teased about it.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sleep deprivation.

Word count: 768.

A/n: This is really short, but I really didn't have it in me today to write anything long, so I wrote this little fic instead. I feel like this isn't exactly like what was requested, but I hope you like this nonetheless!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Aw, the two of you are so adorable.”

“Glenn, get your camera. We need to get a picture of this.”

“Who knew you could be so soft, Daryl?”

The sound of laughter pulled you out of the black abyss of sleep you were nearly lost in. As everyone continued talking to the archer who's chest you found yourself rested against, you could clearly hear the teasing tones in everyone's voices, and it nearly made you smile—however, that would blow your cover and show everyone that you had woken up again. You wanted to see how Daryl handled the situation.

Barely even fifteen minutes prior, you had been sat against the wall of the lower level of the cellblock as everyone participated in a game of truth or dare. However, not too long into the game, you had yawned and rested your head back against the wall. You were extremely tired, the nights of sleeplessness finally knocking on your door in the form of exhaustion. As you had closed your eyes, you could distinctly feel the arms of someone wrapping around your shoulders, and your cheek had found itself rested upon a firm yet soft surface—that surface you now knew to be Daryl's chest—and a blanket had been draped around you.

“If y'all dun' shut the fuck up righ' now, I'll throw this goddamn pot at yer heads,” Daryl grumbled, subconsciously tightening his arms around you and readjusting the blanket that he had draped around the both of you to fight off the chill the night exhibited. “She ain't been gettin' any sleep lately. S'the first time she's slept in days. If y'all wanna make fun'a me, do it tomorrow when ya dun' run the risk'a wakin' her up.”

“Aw, Daryl,” Michonne awed teasingly, sharing a small laugh with Carl, who watched the exchange in amusement. “You're so sweet. Who would've thought that you'd actually be a big teddy bear instead of this brooding, scary guy you pretend to be?”

“She did,” Rick laughed, motioning over to you. “Look at her. She managed to make Daryl hold her in front of all of us. I thought that would be impossible.”

“Piss off, Grimes,” Daryl replied, ducking his head to hide the blush that spread over his face. Somehow, without even having to shrug you off first, Daryl got up and held you bridal style, regarding the amused faces of his friends once more before turning around. “M'takin her to bed. Nigh', assholes.”

Laughter followed him as he climbed the stairs to your shared cell. You nuzzled your face into his chest and tried to hide your smile, vehemently amused by the situation Daryl had just escaped. You knew that the two of you wouldn't hear the end of what had happened downstairs, but you had no problem with a little teasing over something as tender as Daryl holding you.

Soon, Daryl layed you down on the bed and climbed in behind you, adjusting the covers around the both of you. The archer grumbled something to himself before pressing himself against your back, wrapping his arms around you.

Finding it the perfect moment to add some teasing of your own, you rested your hand over his that rested around you. “They're right, you know. You are really sweet.”

A few beats of silence passed until Daryl spoke up. “Ya were awake the whole time?”

“No, not the whole time,” you corrected. “I woke up because everyone was laughing too loud. I'm glad I did, though. I'd hate to miss any opportunity to see you get so flustered.”

“Yer the worst,” Daryl mumbled, nuzzling his face into your shoulder blade.

“Yeah, I am,” you giggled. “You love me, though.”

A long moment of silence passed. You thought that Daryl had fallen asleep already, but soon he tightened his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I do love ya, sleepyhead.”

[celandeline]

Hiiii bestie, can we get an angry Carl x reader, leading to smut

Yes we can!

Make It Up To You

Carl Grimes X Reader (SMUT), oneshot

“What the hell were you thinking?” 

You’ve never seen Carl this mad before. Sure, you’ve seen him get mad - pissed off, sulky, more snappy than usual - but you’ve never seen this. This is something else. This has his eye brimming with rage, and an ugly curl to his lips, like he’s getting ready to spit venom. 

“Anyone would have done the same!” You shoot back, brows furrowed. You don’t really understand why he’s mad at you. Going back into the department store after a bunch of walkers broke in wasn’t the smartest thing you could have done, sure, but you weren’t just going to leave Tara behind. Not when she’s saved your ass before. And you’re fine - a little scratched up from climbing through that broken window, but that's it - no bites, nothing serious. 

“It was stupid, and risky, and you could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Carl spits. 

Now you’re starting to get mad too - you’re tired, you haven’t really even gotten a chance to sit down since you and the rest of your run group got back, and now Carl’s in your face, almost shouting at you. “What happened to ‘we don’t leave anyone behind’?” You shoot back. “You’re saying I should have just left her there?”

“No! I’m just saying, instead of running in by yourself, you could have gone back in with the rest of the group. You know it’s stupid to go anywhere on your own, you could have at least asked someone to watch your back, or draw some of them away or something.” He says. 

“Sorry - there wasn’t a whole lot of time to draw up a plan before she would’ve gotten eaten.” You snark back at him. “And, in case you haven’t noticed,” You gesture down to the rest of yourself. “I’m perfectly fine. I can handle myself.”

“Couldn’t handle asking for backup, apparently.” He says, icy blue gaze boring into you. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You ask. “It’s fine - I’m fine, Tara’s fine, everyone got back safe. Yes, I could have died, I know, I don’t need you lecturing me about the risks-”

“Maybe you do, ‘cause it seems like you forgot-” He cuts you off. 

“Fuck off.” You spit, turning around to head back to your house. You don’t need this right now - you just got back from risking your ass to get supplies for the town, and yeah, there were a couple really close calls when you went back in to save Tara. All you wanted to do was go home, take a shower, get a fresh change of clothes. But instead, you got an angry Carl Grimes trying to lecture you about shit you already know. You don’t even know why he cares so much - sure, you’re friends, but the way he was so angry-

“Where are you going?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of him following you, and don’t bother to turn around to look at him. “Home.”

He falls into step beside you, still glaring at you from under the rim of his hat. “You can’t just walk away in the middle of a conversation-”

“Didn’t feel like a conversation to me.” You interrupt him. “Felt like you were just shouting at me about how stupid I am.” 

“I didn’t-” He starts. “That’s not- I wasn’t trying to say that you’re dumb-”

“Well, you did. Quite a few times, actually.” You cut him off, heading up the steps to your porch. You turn around to face him once you get to the door. “Look, Carl, I’m really not in the mood to keep doing this right now-”

“I don’t think you’re dumb.” He says, the anger in his voice turning into urgency. “And I’m not trying to say that you’re weak or can’t handle yourself, or that you shouldn’t have gone back to save Tara, but it was risky. Too risky, and it didn’t have to be, and if it had gone bad, I don’t-” His voice cracks, and he stops himself. 

You wait for a moment for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, you roll your eyes. “Careful,” You snark. “It almost sounded like you were going to say something nice about me. If you’re done, I’m gonna go shower-”

His lips are on yours before you can really realize what’s happening, and on instinct you pull away. “Carl.” You say, brow furrowed as you look him in the eye, searching for… something, to explain what the fuck is going on. 

“If you died, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He says, lips only an inch away from yours. All the anger in him has turned into pleading, his eyes wide, searching your gaze the same as you search his. 

“So, what, you shout at me the moment I get home?” You ask. 

“I’m sorry.” He says. “Really. I just- I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. Please.”

-

Most of the time, you find the extravagance of the houses in Alexandria a little annoying. It only serves as a reminder to before, how your mom used to cut out pictures of places like this to scrapbook into her future plans journal. It only serves as a reminder to how much your dad would grumble about ‘rich people shit’ when he got home from the construction site. 

Now though, you find yourself a little grateful for the heated flooring in the ensuite master bathroom, and the spacious glass shower. The glass is almost completely covered with steam from the hot water cascading out of the showerhead, and you can only see the faintest reflection of yourself, back against the tile as Carl fucks you.  

He’s propped up above you, watching you reverently as his hair drips water onto your cheeks. You keep running your hands through the wet strands, trailing your fingernails across the nape of his neck to make him shiver, despite the heat of the shower. 

“Fuck.” He gasps, dropping down to press his chest against yours and tuck his head into the crook of your neck. 

“Mmm.” You return, taking the opportunity to mouth at the side of his neck, gently sinking your teeth into the skin there. He moans again, and his hips stutter against yours, briefly losing his rhythm before regaining it. You trail your lips upward to bite at the lobe of his ear, and grin when he falters again. 

“Stop doing that.” He pants, pulling his head out of the crook of your neck to look down at you again. 

“Why?” You ask, winding your arms around his shoulders to tug him down for a quick kiss. “I can tell you like it-”

“I’m supposed to be the one - mm, fuck - making it up to you, not the other way around.” He says. 

“You already picked - ah - all of the walker guts out of my hair, I think your debt is paid.”

He shakes his head, little droplets of water flying out of his hair. “Not until I make you cum.”

He throws himself back into fucking you with his full focus, burying his head back into the crook of your neck to mouth at your collarbones, panting heavy against your skin. You let your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the ride. It’s good - surprisingly. He’s done this before, you think - Enid, probably - enough times to know what works and what doesn’t, and if he keeps going at the rate he is, he might actually get you to finish without you having to help him along. 

“You’re so pretty.” He says, breathy against your skin. 

You open your eyes again, and run a hand up his spine, causing him to arch into you. “You should’ve just - fuck,” You gasp at a particularly hard thrust. “Told me you liked me.”

“Probably.” He agrees. “Didn’t - mm - want you to say no though.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious I wouldn’t have.” You breathe, winding a hand into his hair again, holding him against you as the coil in your stomach tightens. 

“How was I supposed to, ah, know?” He asks, lifting his head out of your neck.

“Could’ve asked-” You tip your head back against the tile as you feel yourself nearing the edge. “Fuck, Carl-”

He groans, low in the base of his throat, and speeds up his thrusts, snapping his hips against yours. “Please,” He moans. “Please, please-”

You sigh as you cum, and pull him down against you. You’re more relaxed than you’ve ever been as you come down, between the sex and the heat of the shower around you. Carl doesn’t take too long to follow, letting out a few more hiccuping moans before he pulls out, shooting his cum onto the floor of the shower. You watch it get carried away down the drain as you catch your breath. 

Carl plops himself down on the floor of the shower next to you with a satisfied smile. “Good?”

“Very.” You agree, pulling yourself up from where you were sprawled on the floor.

A moment passes between you, the only sound is that of the shower water hitting the tile, and you take a minute to just look at him, taking in just how pretty he is. 

“Sorry again.” He says, breaking the silence. “For yelling at you. And, um, not telling you that I liked you.”

“S’okay.” You say, because it is. “We got there, eventually.”

He laughs a little. “Yeah.”

You grin at him. “We’re going to have to clean off again.”

“That’s alright with me.” He says, returning your smile.

[enidette]

HEAVEN BESIDE YOU

warnings :: both are 18+, no real d/s dynamics, kinda fluffy first time smut stuff, riding, unprotected sex (ill advised in an apocalypse but yolo)

carl grimes x fem!reader

carl remembers the first time he spoke to you. you lived in alexandria before he did, but had a similar backstory. you lived out there with walkers for years before you were welcomed into these walls. you caught his interest immediately, but the fact you stuck to yourself so much made it difficult for him to even learn your name.

that only piqued his interest more.

he would look for you, especially on watch shifts. he’d follow even, never getting caught. or so he’d thought. until one day he followed you out to the woods, hiding behind trees as you walked. you took a different path this time, leading him to a clearing. a large piece of land with an old, broke down car in the middle.

he watches you go further and further from his hiding spot, eventually deciding to go home when you turn around with a confused expression. your gaze finds his and he stands up straight, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights

“you’re not coming?” your voice had genuine curiosity, making him quirk a brow at you. he emerges from the trees but doesn’t try getting closer.

“what?”

you let out a short laugh, digging in your bag before tossing him a comic you’d find on one of your runs. he watches you turn back around and head towards the car, following you quickly this time.

“you think i haven’t noticed you, cowboy?” he grimaces at the nickname, looking at the comic in his hands instead of you. “i’ve noticed you like reading those.” you grab the car door that’s merely leaning on the car, moving it enough for the both of you to get in.

carl huffs, sliding into the backseat with you and moving the door back in place. “i’m surprised you noticed anything about me. you keep to yourself so much.” you nod at him, head turned facing the dusty windshield.

“i know a bit about everyone,” you turn to him a nudge him with your shoulder. “i could learn more about you if you’d let me.”

ever since, that car had become you and carl’s “spot”. somewhere you both would meet up to just be teenagers again, not ones stuck in the apocalypse. you had both grown so close so quickly, it was hard for carl to not see you in a different light.

it didn’t help that you seemed to treat him differently than everyone else. that you always wanted to know more about him. you remembered the things he liked and he’s not blind either, you’re very attractive.

he found himself testing the waters more and more. doing his best to use the little flirting he’s picked up over the years on you. it usually backfires, until one day the two of you are in the backseat of your abandoned car. you’re on one side and he’s on the other.

his comic is in front of his face but his eyes are peaking over it at you. you look focused as you read, popping candies you had both found in your mouth every once and a while. he sees how your skin is slightly glistening with sweat from the virginian summer heat.

he swallows thickly, trying to turn his focus back to his comic when he hears your laughter.

“you’re not exactly smooth, grimes,” you look up at him through your lashes with a small teasing smile. his mouth falls open a bit before turning into a flustered grin. he shakes his head and throws his comic down.

his breathing picks up a bit as he thinks about what to say next. “seemed i was every other time.” you quirk a brow at him, laying your comic down and sitting properly in front of him.

“oh no, grimes. i’ve caught you checking me out,” his face goes hot at your bold statement, embarrassed at how obvious he had been. not like he had much experience in these situations to go off of.

he doesn’t say anything, just adjusts himself in the seat so he’s shoulder to shoulder with you. his eyes avoiding yours that began shamelessly raking up and down his body. your hand goes to his thigh and he tenses up at the sudden contact, unaware of what to do next.

you pause at his reaction, “do you wanna just.. pretend this didn’t happen?” your hand starts to retract when he grabs it, just holding it in his. he looks down at your interlocked hands and just shakes his head. his eye flickers up to yours before going to your lips. he instinctively leans in a bit but stops halfway. the only sound in your ears were the nervous breaths the both of you let out.

you lean your head towards him, the tips of your noses touching. carl tenses at the unfamiliar contact, but doesn’t pull away. “do you wanna kiss me?” your question has him nodding, he didn’t even trust his voice in a situation like this.

you tilt your head up a little, leaning in all the way. your eyes flutter shut when your lips meet and it’s obvious you’re both inexperienced. you awkwardly bring a hand to the back of his head, playing with his hair as you attempt to deepen the kiss.

his hands find your waist, but the odd position has you hesitantly straddling his lap. “is this alright?” you mutter under your breath. the sudden closeness due to how pressed against him you were because of the small carapace hit him like a truck.

his eye raked over your body, mouth a little agape as he nods. you lean back in and the kiss is a little needier, messier. teeth clashing and heavy breaths mixing. an involuntary whimper slips out of his mouth when you grind against him, causing you to pull away and lean towards his ear.

“you make pretty noises, pretty boy.” he shuts his eye at the name, sucking in breaths harsher and harsher the more friction you provided. he had imagined this more times than he’d like to admit.

but it didn’t compare to how soft your lips felt against his, how perfect your skin felt on his fingertips. you’re breathing heavy, your chest rising and falling quickly. he sees how plump your lips are from your kiss, how pretty your skin looks in the rusted-window sunlight.

he pushes himself against you, chest to chest and reattaches your lips. the rocking of your hips becomes quicker and needier and his hands are digging into your hips. you pull away again, placing your hands on his chest before letting them wander. they trace down his abdomen before landing at the waistband of his jeans.

you look up at him quizzically, the two of you too embarrassed to speak. he nods and you unzip his jeans, tugging them down his legs. your impatience gets the best of you leaving you to abandon them at his mid-thighs. he huffs a laugh at your desperation, helping you pull your panties to the side and guide yourself onto his cock.

you whimper at the intrusion, going down slowly. he sucks in a breath through his teeth, throwing his head back. you can’t help but stare at him, his hair framing the art that is his face, his complex scar he’s so ashamed of hidden from your view.

all the whole carl is looking at you like a goddess, half lidded eye raking along your body. your hands are unsteady on his chest, trying your best to steady yourself and bounce on him properly.

your arms wrap around his neck and you lean down to kiss him. it’s a tad softer this time, carl wants to savor this as long as he can. his arms go around your waist, leaving you to grind on him instead. the kiss is messy, mostly heavily breathing into each others mouths trying to stay as close as possible.

carl leans back, opening his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a strangled moan. you can tell he’s close by how his hips messily snap up into yours. you stop your movements, causing carl to whine at the loss of pleasure. you lock your lips with his and bring your hand up to wrap around his cock.

you lead his hand down and his thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast causing whimpers to fall from your lips. his brows furrow and his mouth falls agape while he watches your pretty hand finish him off.

your heavy breaths are the only sound that fill the car until your giggles erupt. “we should head back to alexandria and shower?” carl sighs and shakes his head, tugging your body back down into his,

“later, stay with me.”

taglist :: @carlslvr @herrera2k @hiro--aoki @carlsangel @mozzeralla-stix

[grimespial]

Too Sweet

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...

[ruewrote]

𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑦.

PAIRING: s10!carlgallagher x fem!reader WARNINGS: creep men, sexual harrassment, swearing GENRE: angst to fluff SONG INSPIRATION: nice 2 know ya by sylendanna WORD COUNT: 631 REQUESTED: yes

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you didn’t really go out all that often, you are what they call a homebody, but you had a hard time telling carl no so that’s how you ended up sitting in his lap in the alibi. with a coke in hand, kevin only just remembered you weren’t old enough to drink.

carl's arms wrapped around your waist as he talked to the locals about random shit, you didn’t pay too much attention to it as you leaned into his touch, your head pressed against his shoulder, your fingers tracing small patterns over his with a dreamy smile on your lips.

“oh to be young and in love!” kevin smiles at the two of you before walking away taking someone's drink order down.

carl turned back and smiled down at you,  lightly tapping your thigh, “i gotta go piss,” he whispered into your ear like it was some secret, making you giggle as you slid off of his lap watching him quickly make his way into the men’s bathroom.

shaking your head to yourself, turning your attention to the cherries in your drink, stirring them around with your straw. your leg bouncing, waiting impatiently for him to get back, social anxiety slowly creeping back in on you whilst you were alone.

“well aren’t you a pretty little thing?” a voice speaks beside you, a little too close for comfort, so you turned your head around in it’s direction.

“a pretty little thing that’s taken, so fuck off.” you voice back, normally you wouldn’t be this rude, but in all honesty you just wanted to be left alone, especially by this piece of shit.

“ooh she's feisty!” 

“dude, so not cool leave her alone or get out of my bar!” kevin sternly stated, as he pointed to the door, the guy continued spewing disgusting things in your ear which just made you get up to get carl and go, but as soon as you stood he grabbed a handful of your ass.

which made you forcefully push him away from you, clearly violated you wrapped your arms around yourself as you back away from him. it was a blur as carl protectively pushed you behind him, then grabbed the man up by the collar, punching him repeatedly until he had him on the floor.

tommy let him get his hits in before pulling carl off of the beaten man who was now barely conscious.

ripping himself out of tommy’s grip, pointing at the bloodied creep who was barely sitting up on the floor, “i will kill you if you even think to look at her again, do i make myself clear?” carl shouts at him, the guy frantically nods then runs out of the building.

carl's breath ragged as adrenaline ran through him, his fists still clenched as he eyed everyone around him realising the whole building had gone silent, it didn’t take long for everyone to go back to normal, drinking and playing pool, but all he was concerned about was you.

turning back around, pulling you into his arms making sure he was gentle with you, “i'm so sorry, sweetheart.” his words were soft as he held you, tears stung your eyes. but you were just glad he was with you.

he backed away just enough for his shaky hands to be pressed to your cheeks, giving you a small smile making one of your own appear.

“yeah, just wanna go home,” 

and you did. 

spending the night in the gallagher home trying to find ways to make it up to him even with the amount of reassurance he gave you, you persisted and he gave in. you made him ice his bruised knuckles, both cooking dinner for everyone, spending the rest of the night cuddling and kissing in his bed.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐞

Summary ➳ You and Daryl have been sneaking around your brother’s back, even more when he isn’t home. But your brother begins to become suspicious and worried, even more when Shane gives him a good idea of the guy you’ve been hiding from him.

(A/n) ➳ I’ve decided to make my last post have a third part, I’m not sure if you guys are a big fan of reading long works. This isn’t my favorite works but hopefully you guys like it. P.S, REQUEST FOR THE TWD S1-3 ARE OPEN!! Read rules firsts! You can also check out my oncoming worms coming soon, expect the series ones. They might take awhile.

Word Count ➳ 1.5k

Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader, Season 2-3 Daryl/MODERN AU, angst-to fluff? Swearing, sexual content, overstimulation, protective sex, pet names (Darlin’, good girl, sunshine), biting (once), little blood, nonconsensual photo taking (Shane), swearing, mentions of a criminal investigation…

My The Walking Dead WIP

You clutched Daryl’s shirt as he relentlessly pounded into you. Your eyes rolled back, arching your back as moans escaped your lips.

Daryl gritted his teeth, his brows furrowing as he inhaled sharply. He panted heavily over you, holding onto your hips tightly..

Your body felt uncomfortably hot, the cracked window kept you cool. The winter breeze leaves goosebumps across your sweaty skin. Your thighs shook, you found it difficult to focus on one thing without Daryl taking you out of your thoughts with his cock.

You spoke incoherently, begging him to go harder, as if he wasn’t fucking you so hard that the headboard was slamming against the wall. He was a little surprised that no one came knocking to complain.

“D-Daryl!” You sobbed, tears falling from corners of your eyes.

He chuckled at your state, just moments ago, you were bragging on how you could take him for hours and hours with no break. You should really think before you speak.

“C’mom, use ya words.” Daryl teased you. “Beg for it darlin’.”

You let out a frustrated whine. “M-My brother is going to be home any second!” Daryl rolled his eyes, stopping his movements and pulled out. You whined again. “Daryl-”

“Quiet.” He hushed you. Daryl flipped you over, using one hand to push your head into the pillow and the other to grip your hip. He leaned down, his hot breath tickling your ear. “Words.”

“Just fuck me Daryl!” You cried out, now holding onto the pillow for dear life.

Daryl chuckled. “Good girl.” Then he slammed right back inside of you.

Your loud moans were muffled against the pillow, you shut your eyes at the overwhelming feeling. The coil in your stomach is growing, nearly unbearable. Even more when he’s pounding into that spot deep inside of you.

The sound of muffled moans, Daryl’s hushed grunts, and skin slapping was all that was heard… Besides the loud headboard.

You’re squeezing around him, it was pure bliss. Daryl bit into your shoulder so hard that he could taste blood.

You were on edge, it was almost to the point of hurting. Daryl could feel you clenching around him, he knew.

He too was about to come with a couple of hard and fast thrusts. “Daryl- I’m goin’-” You felt your entire body shake as Daryl came along with you as well.

You gasped when he slowly pulled himself off of you, you felt dizzy and breathless. Your heart pounded as you felt light headed.

Daryl slipped off the condom and tied it, tossing it into your little trash can. He came back to your side, his hand running over your back. “Can ya move?” You give him a slight nod.

That’s when you heard the front door opening and closing. Your heart dropped and you looked at Daryl with wide eyes.

“(Y/n)?!” Rick called out, you could hear Carl’s laughter running through the house. “Are you home?”

His only point of escape was your window… You pushed Daryl with whatever strength you had left. “Go, go.” You whispered. “Before Rick sees you.”

“Ya kiddin’ me.”

“I ain’t.” Giving him another push. “Rick is an officer, who knows what he’ll do to you when you’re caught.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl grinned, ear to ear. “‘Cause I ain’t done with ya yet.”

“I don’t know, (Y/n)’s been actin’ suspicious ever since last night.” Rick ran his hand through his hair, holding his hot cup of coffee in the other. “I heard her stutterin’, refusin’ to get out of her room…”

“I think it’s obvious.” Shane replied, sitting next to him, watching over Carl who played in the yard. Rick looked at him curious. “She’s hidin’ someone. A man.”

“...No.” Rick shook his head. “She wouldn’t, she’d tell me if she was at least interested in someone.”

Shane scoffed at him. “When’s the last time (Y/n) told you she was seein’ someone? Or tell you anythin’ else about her life?”

Rick was ready to retort but he took a moment. When was the last time you told him anything? It would’ve been years ago…

He sighed, taking a small sip of his coffee. “...Who would she be seein’? Have you seen the people ‘round here?”

Shane begins to count with his fingers. “There’s Travis a block over… Matt-”

“The creep Matt or the mailman Matt?” Bringing his cups to his lips.

“Mailman Matt… Annie… Daryl-”

Rick choked on his coffee. “Daryl? As in Daryl Dixon? The one who’s place of work is under investigation?”

“Yeah, the guy has been ridin’ out ‘ere often.” Shane chuckled louder as he saw Rick’s horrified face. “He parks his bike a couple of blocks over. Makin’ sure no one sees ‘im.”

“How the hell you know this?”

“Who do you think brings you home after a night out?”

Rick groaned, setting his coffee down on the porch. “You thinkin’ to catch them screwin’?”

“No, I’m thinkin’ to catchin’ Daryl leavin’.” Shane leaned in closer. “Act like nothin’s wrong. You’re workin’ all night thursday, I have a feelin’ that Dixon is gonna pay a visit.”

“I keep warnin’ you Daryl.” You huffed, crossing your arms as Daryl sat on his bike. “You’re goin’ to get yourself into trouble with Rick.”

“Ya worried for me sunshine?” Daryl snickered, putting on his jacket. “Think Imma get hauled away?”

“Daryl-” He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt to bring you closer to him, placing a quick kiss on your lips.

“Quit yer worrin’, ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to me.” Daryl sat back as the bike roared. “I’ll see ya soon.” Its distinctive hum of the motor loudly echoed.

You playfully rolled your eyes and waved him off, standing on the sidewalk as he rode away. You continued to watch until he was no longer in sight, you turned back to the house you shared with Rick, walking to the front door.

Minutes later, Shane looked over the photo taken of Daryl kissing you. He sighed, disappointed that his suspicions were right. You could’ve chosen any other person to sleep with, why did it have to be Daryl Dixon.

Shane knew that Rick wasn’t going to be happy with this news, he had to come up with a way to approach it with him.

He comes home in five minutes.

Rick was expecting to pass Daryl on the way home, but with his car window down to feel the warm breeze of Georgia’s summer, he heard a distant hum of a motorcycle.

He muttered no on his way, muttering no as he parked, no as Shane approached him, and no as he was handed Shane’s phone to show the photo taken.

He took a minute to breath and collect his thoughts, thinking of various ways to approach you about this. Once his mind was set, he took one deep breath and entered your room.

Rick looked around first, nothing seemed to be out of place, except new bedsheets.

You eyed your brother, confused on why he’s looking around your room. “Are you okay Rick?” You asked him, sitting up on your headboard.

“You ain’t gonna lie to me when I ask you somethin’. You ain’t gonna dodge the question, and you sure as hell ain’t gonna say that the woman in the photo kissing Daryl ain’t you.”

“Rick-” He shoved his phone into your hands, showing the said photo. Your heart dropped, it caught the perfect view.

“You gonna say anythin’?”

You looked back at the phone and Rick, handing it to him. “I’ve been seeing him for a couple of weeks.” You admitted.

“Where did you meet him?”

“The bar-”

“Which?”

“Does it really matter?” You picked at your lips, trying to keep eye contact. “Look, I’m sorry that I’ve been sleeping with him behind your back.”

Rick ran a hand over his face, taking a moment to process. “...I ain’t gonna stop you. But that means you can deal with the consequences. I sometimes be forgettin’ you’re grown.” You knew when he turned his head, he was stopping himself from crying.

You gasped, rushing over to Rick. “C’mon Rick! Don’t cry on me, I should be the one beggin’!”

He wiped his eyes and faced you again, collected. He placed his hands on your shoulders. “The brothers are known to get deep into shit. They got terrible reputations.”

“Rick-”

“Don’t say you love him.” Rick cut you off. “Love ain’t gonna always enough, understand?”

“…Yeah.”

“Go see him again, decide if this is what you want.”

“But I already decided.” You replied. “I know what I want, and it’s to continue whatever I have with Daryl.”

Rick took a moment before nodding. “Okay, okay. If this is what you want then I ain’t stoppin’ you.” He gave you a quick hug before leaving your room.

You looked him in the eye and said what you thought was right for you. Why was the doubt creeping in now? After weeks screwing Daryl behind your brother’s back, why now?

“Is this all a mistake?”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

[livingdeadgirlflorette]

YOU KNOW WHERE TO FIND ME ⊹˚. ♡. ݁ ˖ carl grimes x fem! reader

summary : With Carl's dream's being invaded by a girl of all things, curiosity gets the best of him when he sees her pass by in real time— and he couldn't just let her slip away just like in his dreams, not this time.

word count : 6.2k

tags / rundown : fluff, strangers to ???, reader is a sucker for cute boys, carl is confused, carl doesn't know how to talk to girls, reader is an archer and all that jazz

a / n : i'm not really sure if i like the theme, but the tv girl theme just had to be made with the fic >< I think I really like Y/N and Carl's relationship here! i'm definitely gonna make a part 2 to this ^^ also thank you again for the support! I didn't think my fics would get a lot of traction but here we are! I love each and every single one of you from the bottom of my heart (*≧∀≦)

dividers by me ! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

"Be careful, alright?" Rick places Carl's hat on his head, squeezing his shoulder lovingly then pulling him in for a hug.

Carl knows he shouldn't feel down, but with his father getting all caring for him now that he was going on his first solo run he couldn't help but let his parent-like tendencies out.

"I'll keep a vigilant eye out for you, okay Dad?" Carl assures his father. They both pull away and they say bye to each other at the gate, waiting for the gate to fully close to have one last glimpse at one another.

When the walls finally shut and he's officially seperated, Carl gets into the car that was supplied by the community; he's quite smug about it, knowing how to drive a car and all (he literally wouldn't stop bragging to Enid about it, who was praying to any deity out there for him to stop).

Driving was like second nature to him, it was therapeutic to say the least. There was nobody and to bug him about, at least when he was driving. That's what he loved most about it; no questions, no thoughts, just the stable whirring of the car engine and the stepping of the pedal harder every once in a while. But sometimes the silence and calm gets shrouded by a storm of thoughts he never could get to cease, even in the comfort of his own room.

On the off chance that Carl was relaxed and tired enough, he'd pass through the gateways of his mind and slip into his dreams. From the amount of times that it'd been there whenever he did dream, there was a constant variable that he would always expect when coming into the languid dimension of sleep.

It was always the same event; he would always have a blurry vignette of a vision of him on an unspecified person's bed— yet he felt heavy, not being able to move. The only thing he could barely move was his eyesight.

From his impaired vision he could see a woody ceiling, one that you'd see from a regular house made from tree. Multiple graphic posters on the wall, yet he could see the familliar colors of the comic franchise he was actively reading.

Looking around, he could only see the blurred vision of candles and oil lamps surrounding him. And the one thing that was always there was a girl; sitting on the edge of the bed, tending to presumably some kind of wound he'd have on his head.

The countless times he has been there, he tried to clear his vision from the lethargy-induced haze to make out some kind of features on your face. But to no avail— all he could remember was the warmth of your hand tending to him, using the back of your hand to check his forehead.

Carl tried to stop it, he swears he did. He tried prohibit himself from getting used to the comfort of the looping dream, because that's what they were. Just dreams— yet his mind seemed to betray his body, subconsciously opening the door of the scene of girl in that house, tending to him with such care. He guesses since there was no stopping it, he'd rather just indulge himself in it.

But before Carl could let himself dig deeper into the unanswerable questions he had, he barely registered the stable whirring of the car had ceased. He logically looked at the fuel gauge, seeing it empty.

"Fuck. . ." He muttered with his voice low. How could he have forgetten to bring extra gas?

Sighing frustrated, he grabs the fire-red fuel container from the passenger seat and got out of the car— He figured he'd just have to look for gas farther from here, since there didn't seem to be any sign of cars anywhere near where he was. With a bored expression on his face, he put his bag on his shoulders with fuel container in hand, and he sets out south. Going in one direction would be better, he could easily make his way back.

Even with the constant cricket of bugs and the sound of moaning of walkers he'd pass through, Carl's mind seemed to rebel him; his thoughts going back to the girl that was tending to him in his restless dreams. But he figured that maybe it wasn't too bad, cause he remembered another variable he saw in his dream, and that was a recurve bow, lying just a few feet away from the blurry-faced girl.

That was something that he'd always get irritated by— how no matter how hard he squints his eyes until it makes his dream-self's mind hurt, the frosted vision of his never clears to see even a feature of her face.

From all his thinking, he didn't even realize the terrain his feet were walking on had changed. He comes across a small town a few minutes away, he never knew there was one—and how close it was to Alexandria. He'd be sure to tell his Dad about it later.

He walks through the empty streets, trying to find any sign that there could be gas somewhere, anywhere. With nothing to show for it, Carl thinks next best thing he should do is find food, pills, or anything at this point. He guesses he'll have to stay for a day, recoup and make a plan how to get back. Right now he was stranded in an abandoned town, at least he could try finding something, or somewhere to help him get through the night.

Carl decided a first stop wouldn't hurt to be a department store, but he bangs on the glass doors, waiting a few for any sign of walkers. When nothing happened, he pushes through the doors. Almost everything on the shelves were on the floor, but it looked to be all sealed.

Just like clockwork, he gets to checking the items on the shelves and puts a few items in his bag, then going on one of his knees to kneel and observe the dropped items— looking at labels seeing if it could still be usable. But before he could do anything more, he saw a singular figure passing by with a weapon he was sure engraved in his memory by now— a recurve bow. But through the frosted glass of the entrance, just like in his sleep— and just as fast as it came, the figure was gone.

His eyebrows furrowed— why would someone still be here? He swore there was no sign of life and no use to be here, the town was practically wiped of anything. Did he miss something? But more importantly— why did the figure have a recurve bow that looked exactly the same in his dreams? He needed to get to the bottom of this.

With a light pace, he opens the door to the creaky glass entrance as quiet as he could and goes to follow the person. He thinks it's a girl though, seeing a brief glimpse of their attributes, and no walker had normal footsteps and walked that brisk. He ensues his trail, wanting to find out— who was this girl?

Carl knows he shouldn't, he should turn back and keep looking for stuff he could use for tonight, but there was some kind of alluring aura— pulling him in and making him want more than just a passing view. He doesn't pay mind to how he should be looking for items to bring back to Alexandria, but that's a problem he'll cross later.

After a good while of walking, he's sure this girl had some kind of problem, 'cause she would've heard him by how many twigs and sticks he's stepped on. It's either she knows she's being followed by him, or she simply doesn't care. That conclusion eludes him.

But he guesses he should've have kept a vigilant eye as he said to his father last time he saw him, because once they made it in the dense forest, the girl's figure was getting harder and harder to spot. Maybe it's cause he's still adjusting to his new perspective with having one eye now, but focusing on one singular moving object through a mess of fauna is harder than it was last time he remembered.

But he had another problem to deal with now. One moment the girl was in his sights, then the next she was gone. It was like she was never there, and he was just following some kind of higher entity. He was dumbfounded, and it was prominent on his face. Maybe his eyesight was playing with him?

She was just there! Where could she have gone?

Before he could think anymore rhetorical questions, last thing he had seen with his vision before going black was him falling down. He knew it was a bad idea abandoning the town and following this stranger, but maybe he just dug himself a hole he couldn't get out of.

You were worried for your life, to put it short. You were just going through the town a walk away from the cabin, with just your recurve bow and your scavenging bag. You thought it would be a quick sweep, easy and light. But once you made it out of that town and started by going to the direction of your camp, you were starting to hear footsteps.

It was scary enough that it was constant, not stumbling or moaning behind you. But that was what worried you even more— if a walker wasn't behind you it was a person; and people were far more dangerous than walkers in this world.

Trying to steady you're breathing, you think what could you possibly do to get out if this predicament you're in. 'Should I run?' If I do, the person will probably run after me. 'I'll fight then.' But you aren't sure if their stronger than you, and you don't want to find out. 'Maybe sneak around him in the forest?' Your panicked thoughts ceased momentarily.

You could try, going back to the camp you'd get to a densely packed forest— and most probably you know the way around it more than the person behind you does.

Trying to steady your breathing, you grip your bow just a little tighter when you see the forest getting thicker. It's now or never. You walk a little more just to find somewhere you can sneak under, then acting on it when the moment's right.

You see him from behind, looking left and right for you, but you stop his movements by using the back of your bow to hit his head— not enough to add permanent injury, but enough to cause a major headache when he wakes up.

When his body falls to the ground, you're still in a hostile stance, but your actions soften when you realize he isn't getting up anytime soon.

With a careful hand, you turn him around on the ground by grabbing his shoulder. What's before your eyes slightly shocks you. It was just a boy— you're age, if not older than you. He had long soft hair, as if he had just showered not too long ago. You wonder how he kept it looking like that, especially with freshwater scarce now.

But what caught your attention the most was his bandage. It was wrapped around his forehead to help support the gauze on his eye. His eye. It was covered, but you could barely see peeking out of his bandage was slight scarring. What happened to this boy? It made you slightly guilty. Well, even more now that you realized his bandage was coming loose.

You were at a cross road, were you going to leave this boy in the middle of the woods where he doesn't even know the way out or which direction is which— or should you haul his ass back to your camp and take care of him? He was following you from the town into the forest, but he didn't look like he was raised to do heinous acts to a girl. He looked like he wouldn't hesitate to hurt you, but he also looked vulnerable, and undeniably— so adorable.

You couldn't deny it no matter how hard you tried. Even in this wretched apocalypse— you still had a soft spot for cute boys. But can you blame yourself? You've been by yourself for years, and he was the first boy from the handful of people you've seen from your time in the apocalypse that was genuinely attractive.

With a heavy heart and a deep sigh— you put your bat in your bag of scavenged stuff, then ready and stretch your muscles cause you're about to drag (from your analysis) a 5'7 weight back to your cabin.

You didn't expect he'd be so heavy, but with you forgetting to exercise and him being a teenage boy— you guess it wasn't all that surprising. When you get back to your camp, it's hard getting the door open.

But you push through and try your best to put him on your bed so he can at least get comfortable. When you pull back finally from that exhausting feat, you realize his bandage had come off. You guess it fell off from the journey of you dragging his weight back here, you didn't even notice it. but now you do.

You should be disgusted, but you weren't— you thought he got hurt. You were worried. Looking at it longer made you realize that this kid went through it, losing an eye and still living. One eye in the apocalypse and he's still alive? He was starting to get a lot more badass in your book.

But then your mind thinks that you should change his bandage, it fell off and the least you could do was replace it. Scrambling to find any of your medical supplies, you wonder what you're doing, running around trying to find clean medical supplies for a random stranger. But to you, it's all worth it when you have to get close to him to clean around his eye.

With a gentle hand, you lightly dab around his scarred skin, getting all the dirt and debris off that had accidentally made its way near the wound. You don't know why, but even with his scar as large as that— he's still so handsome. He must have won the genetics awards, cause to you he got the best of both worlds from his parents.

Going back to reality, you use your other hand to lift his head to wrap the bandage around him, using is to support the bandage now covering the scar. You take your time with it, subconsciously trying to touch his hair in the process. It makes you blush, knowing if your body was reacting like this when he was unconscioud, you don't know how you'll manage when he wakes up.

Oh. You need to be real with yourself for a minute. When he wakes up, he'll freak out because he's in an unknown place with a girl that knocked him out. He's going to panic.

You can't have that right now. Maybe you could restrain him? It sounds unethical, but you can't take any chances. Getting your rope, you grab both his wrists and tie them above his head to the headboard. You know it'll be uncomfortable for him, but you're not going to let him thrash around your house freely until he calms down.

You stand up from sitting on the edge of the bed, and open a sliver big enough to see through the curtains. With nightfall coming, it's getting cold. You look back at the unconscious boy, 'it wouldn't be so bad if I just covered him with a blanket, right?' Everything you're doing for the boy seems too nice to just be welcoming, but you don't want to pay attention to it anymore. Maybe you were going crazy.

Going back to where he was sitting, you take a folded blanket next to him and place it on his lower half. It's quite adorable, really— none of the blankets you had seemed to cover all of him (it barely even covered you too) so you just had to do with covering his lower half and a quarter of his upper half, barely meeting his torso.

With no more space on the bed, the edge seemed to be your only option. So you do, then just play with your fingers, thinking. From carrying that boy through the forest and in your camp— you're too tired to eat, and all you wanted to do was wait for the long-haired brunet to open his eyes— so you figured just tinkering around the room. You arrange your stuff, organize all the stuff you had found from your journey before this whole 'knocking-someone-out' debacle.

You were doing just about everything to pass the time, waiting for just any sign that the boy would wake. But you guess someone out there was listening to your thoughts as your head turns to the sound of faint moaning from the boy. You guess you were right to assume that he'd have a killer migraine when he would stir.

When he flutters his eyes open, he quickly lets his fight or flight control him as he wriggles around, you try to diffuse the situation.

"Hey— woah, calm down. Stop moving." You say, but it seems like it doesn't get to him when he just continues his actions, thrashing harder even.

You try to think of something to calm him, or make him stop moving around that is. Without thinking properly and with his panicking also influencing you, you grab his gun that you took from him when he was knocked out and pointed it right at his head.

"Listen, if you don't stop that i'll blow your fucking brains out. Get that?" Your threat had seemed to work partially, since he had stopped moving erratically. But what you don't understand is how his eyes soften. What the hell? this guy's for sure got something knocked out of his head when you hit him.

'What's with this guy?'

Carl thought he was dreaming. He felt relieved, confused, and a whole lot of pain from the back of his head all at the same time. His eyes really weren't deceiving him, the girl he saw pass by was actually you. The constant blurred haze in his vision wasn't there, and he saw it all the more clearly. He looked around, seeing the same wooden ceiling and posters— but what sealed the deal was that distinct recurve bow.

And you. Even in his blurred dreams, he could already tell you were enthralling, beautiful but fierce-eyed. However, now that he can see you all the more clearly, he thinks he may have understated you.

"Okay, you're weirding me out. First off, why the hell were you following me?" Your voice didn't the same enough bite it did at first, now just confused. You really were weirded out. You had threatened him just mere seconds ago, but now he was looking at you, like you were under a microscope, waiting to be observed. It made you a little self-conscious.

Carl knew he would sound ridiculous. 'I kept seeing you in my dreams.' Like the girl wouldn't be creeped out even more than she is right now. So he starts off vague.

"I thought I saw you somewhere. Sorry if it felt like I was creeping up on you." He figured it wouldn't be too bad to apologize now and get it out of the way.

". . . It's all cool," You say. "Not the uh, you— not you creeping up on me, but like— it's water under the bridge for me now, yeah?" You reiterate.

It's stupid. You feel stupid. Here you are stumbling over your words to a boy that you tied up in your cabin, it makes you feel like you're the one being tied up instead.

"Cool, thanks. But can you uh. . ." He waves his hands to gesture them. "Could you let me out of these?" Carl really wants to feel like he has freedom from his movement. It's one thing that you're actually talking and not just caring for him in his visions, but it'll be the nail in the coffin if he could move. Then he knows this isn't just a hyperrealistic dream he's having.

"I dunno. . ." You're genuinely thinking if you should or shouldn't cut him out of his ropes. "How can I be sure you won't hurt me the second I cut you out of those?" You nod at the knots around his wrists, they look like they aren't getting loose any time soon— no matter how childish the achievement is, you pat yourself on the back mentally.

"I promise I don't plan on hurting you, okay?" He tries to assure you. He really won't, he doesn't really don't know what to do even if he does get cut loose— it all seems too surreal.

"Also— even if I was going to, my head is pounding and I don't have the capacity to do anything but go through it." Carl said. His head wasn't just pounding, it was like someone was hammering into his skull— his head felt like it was gonna burst.

"Oh yeah, i'm sorry about that—" You get up and grab your bag, opening it to fiddle through it, before finally finding what you intended to give to him. "Have these, I couldn't really give it to you when you were. . . y'know? When you were knocked out and all that." Maybe your social skills weren't the best, but you were trying.

You showed him a pill bottle, with a weathered label that boldly spells out 'Ibuprofen'. He was thankful, you seemed just as clumsy and cute as you were in his dreams. You were stumbling, but you meant well.

"Thanks, but i'm still tied up, so. . ." His remark made you realize you were trying to give it to him but you forgot he was still in his restraints.

"Oh! Yeah, uh- sorry about that let me just—" You hover him, trying to cut the ropes that was tying him to the headboard.

Carl thought of himself as a respectful guy, he'll look the other way when something racy is infront of him, but it's hard to look any other way than in front of him when you were leaning slight above him, his eyes directly in level with your chest. He tries to just focus on how much the rope was uncomfortable and how it chafed against his skin— probably giving him rope burn when he looks at his wrists, anything else to focus on to stop the blood from flowing through his face.

"There, sorry about your wrists though." You finally pull away. Your knots were severely hard to cut through, something you'd have to remember just in case. Carl's thankful you seem so awkward and in thought, cause if you weren't, you'd notice how red his face had gotten.

"Yeah— uh. Thanks, for this— I mean." Carl takes the pill bottle you were giving to him, not ignoring how even just the brush of his fingers against yours feel like a dozen jolts going through his hands then to his heart.

"Why didn't you just leave me there? I was following you, surely you didn't think it was just the wind." Carl was curious, why did you let him follow you? he knows if he was being followed he'd get up and running through the woods in every direction if he was getting trailed, so why didn't you?

"If I left you there, i'd be as good as the people that don't deserve to live in this world." That and also how you couldn't just leave such a cute boy alone in the woods, but you think you should keep that to yourself. "Also, your bandage came off so," You gesture with a nod to his bandage.

"I changed it for you. Your welcome, I guess." You finish off, not really sure if he was comfortable about the topic, so you'd tried to keep it quick and straight to the point.

His facial expression goes icy and touches the bandage on his damaged eye, and just as you had said, you had changed it. But that wasn't what he was worried about. You saw him? No, you couldn't. He looked monstrous, abnormal— but you seemed unphased. You were getting all the more interesting. He was curious to find out more and more about you.

"Don't I look hideous to you?" Even from meeting mere moments ago, it felt so easy to get vulnerable with you. Like you had known him for longer than you actually did. Maybe it was because he knew you for much longer than you knew, but he digresses.

"Hideous? Oh God no!—" You laugh at his question, you look at him with a small smile growing on your lips. He looks at you, muddled.

"You look fucking cool, dude. Don't think about it too much." You were being sincere. You really did think he looked badass. He shouldn't feel insecure about it, especially when it made him look so tough.

Your answer made him seem to relax, less apprehensive and more— calm. Calm. That's what he calls it. That feeling he always felt when he saw you in his dreams seemed to carry on to the real you. It made his heart relax, going into a steady rhythm.

"Thanks." Carl didn't want to keep saying the same thing all over again, but he can't help it. Whenever he looks at you all over again, and knowing you think that— that he looked cool, not anything else— all the words his mind had remembered were turned into nothing, just plain word vomit.

"It's nothing. Uh. . . Oh! I'm uh— I'm Y/N, by the way." Not wanting to seem rude, you reach your hand out— gesturing for a handshake. Even in the apocalypse, you couldn't help but keep up with your manners. Carl thought it was silly, but in a good way.

Carl looks at your hand then back at you, hesitating— before reciprocating the gesture. Grabbing your hand firmly and shaking it softly.

"Carl." The boy you'd been nursing had finally had a name to him. Carl. You couldn't help but think it suits him, but you shake that thought.

"You know— for a person who knocked me out first time we saw each other, I'd think you wanna be friends." Carl jokes. Under all that playfulness in his tone, he really did want to be your friend. More than that even, but he'll keep that locked in his mind for now. The boy wanted to know more about the girl he'd been seeing every time he went to sleep. You made him curious, something he rarely ever felt.

"Yeah! Heh. . . Sorry about that again," You apologize. "It's getting late, you should sleep in. Those painkillers I gave you can only do so much to help your headache." You get up and grab another blanket next to him.

Carl stood up straight. "Hey wait— ugh." He groaned in pain and frustration and grabs his head from the pain in his head from moving too fast. Okay, maybe he didn't think that through. But he'd be stupid if he let the literal girl of his dreams sleep on the floor. "Let me sleep there, okay? I'm the one intruding." He tries standing up, but the only he achieved was stumbling up a little and sitting back down.

"What? No–! Absolutely not." You scoff, grabbing his shoulders, firm and stubbornly.

"I can't let you sleep on the hardwood floor, Carl. You're hurt. And that's bad guest etiquette, Especially when you feels like your head's cracked open." You say. Even with all you said, all Carl could focus on was when you said his name. It flowed so serenely out of your mouth, like it belonged. He didn't know why, but he wanted to hear it more from you.

"You can't be serious." Despite Carl being in pain, the sassy tone he always had when talking could never be covered by it.

"Just stop trying to be a gentleman right now and just focus on getting better," You uttered to him, with a tone that spoke you didn't want anything else and this was final. "Got it?" Carl liked this side of you, even with you pointing a gun at his face, all he could think about was how it was pretty charming.

Something he never really got to experience in his dreams— and realized he liked about you— was your bossy tone. Although, it couldn't really be called demanding if the person saying it didn't have anything to back it up. In the end, it just made you look endearing, trying to seem all authoritarian.

"I'll try." He sighed, before laying back down on the bed— with you copying his actions, taking your bag then putting it next to the bed. You had laid down, fluffing the backpack like a pillow and opening your blanket, scrunching into a ball to cover most of your body.

"Goodnight, Carl. Sorry for knocking you out." You said before turning the other way and shutting your eyes. Carl slowly looked at the your lying figure, before deciding to sleep also.

". . . I— Goodnight, Y/N." Carl said, before turning the other way. That was the first time he said your name. Without even knowing it, he said your name so softly. Even if you don't want it to, it makes your cheeks flush. You're happy you turned the other way, you don't want him to possibly see you blush just 'cause he said your name.

Carl fell asleep faster than he normally would. Maybe it was the painful headache he had, or was it because he was next to you? He'd rather not think about it, it'll add more fuel to the fire of questions he already had about the girl. But as fast he fell asleep, he woke up just as quick as well. With fluttering eyes, getting used to the blinding light that was seeping through the curtains, his eyes adjusted to the scene.

He looked around— and just like yesterday, it was all still the same. Same house, same bed, and the same pounding headache he had. Now he was sure he wasn't dreaming. But the one thing he was trying to find wasn't there just like he expected to. You weren't there.

Where did you go? Carl slowly stood up and put a hand to his head. You were right, it'll hurt worse than it did yesterday. He was starting to internally panic. He was silently praying, begging for a sign that you were real. Anything just so he could believe what he experienced yesterday wasn't just his imagination.

But before he can scour his mind for answers on where you were, it's like you heard him— pleading in his mind that you would show up, just to see you again. You opened the door, then closed it shut. Your movements halting when you see him standing now, looking at you, visibly worried. 'What happened to him while I was away?'

"Are you okay? You look anxious." You put what you were holding— a water container and your bow on the table in the cabin and walked closer to him.

"Yeah, I— I was just wondering where you went." He cleared his throat and put his hands in his pockets. He had never really talked to a girl his age before other than Enid, but this was different. He was talking to a girl he actually liked. So given that, his social skills were at an all time low.

"I was getting more water. You were worried about that?" You were starting to grow a smile. He was getting worried about you, and for whatever reason, that made your heart feel fuzzy and mind go blank.

"Where'd you put my gun?" Carl dodged the question. He'd rather not get into him getting troubled about his dream girl right now, so he wanted to know where his weapon was. He patted himself down, trying to look more preoccupied.

"Huh, yeah sure. It's in here." You dismissed your teasing tone, getting his gun out of your bag. "I wasn't sure if you'd attack me when I get home, so I just brought it with me. Take it." You hold the barrel in you hand, holding it out to him.

Carl pauses, before taking it and observing the gun, releasing the magazine from the chamber and checking its ammo before putting it back and placing it in his holster.

"Thanks." He sees you moving back to the table.

"Where are you going?" He asks. It confuses you, what did he mean by that? "I'm. . . getting my bow?" You say as if it was the most obvious thing ever. What is he trying to say?

"No— I know that. I mean like where are you going after," He gestures with his head to the whole cabin they were in. "This?"

Your body freezes, why would he ask you that? Did he want to come with you? You scratch the back of your neck in boredom, before answering his question.

"I dunno? I just keep moving. That's all I ever do. Nothing I ever stay in holds up, so better stay safe than sorry." Your answer gives him an idea. Maybe you could stay with him in Alexandria?

"This is sudden, and we just met briefly yesterday but," He looks at you intently. "Do you want to come with me? We have a place, it has walls and a home. You could stay with us." Us? There were more of him? How lucky was he that he had people that were trustworthy around him that he could confidently deem where he was as safe?

You think about it. You really needed a safe place to stay, and he seemed focused on letting you come with him. But you didn't want to trust him fully yet. You know better than to just blindly trust people in this world.

"Take me out for dinner first, geez—" You quip. You want to come with him, but you're still on the fence about everything. "I'll think about it. For now, i'll stay here. M'kay?"

You decide that maybe he'd want to visit you, but you suggest it just in case he was thinking something else. "You can visit me anytime, cowboy." Saying that, you grab the hat he was wearing first time you met and put it in his grasp.

He looked at his hands with the hat, and you. He was still kind of sad you didn't want to come with him, but he understood why. He was still a stranger, no less. But with you saying you didn't mind that he could visit you whenever made him feel a little more chipper than usual.

"I will." He smiled at you and put his hat on. "I'll get going now, the people where i'm from are probably scared shitless about me." Carl was telling the truth— Rick probably was tearing anyone apart just to find where his son was right now. You laughed a little at that. Still, it made him feel good knowing he made you laugh, be it a small one but a laugh still.

"Sure, your stuff's next to the door." You point to where his bag is. "I didn't take anything, don't worry." And just as he looked through the bag, your words had ringed to be right.

And he sees something else; it was a map showing your cabin and the way back to the town you both were in. He looks at you, and even with the uncomfortable hammering in his head he still needed to see you again. But he remembers he really should back to Alexandria.

"Thanks. I'll come back for you." His words were light, but it was more than that. It was a promise to you, whether you wanted to acknowledge that it was or not. It made you giddy, he'd be coming back for you.

"Well, when you do—" Walking up to him close, "You know where to find me." You take his other hand and open it, putting in a protein bar before closing his palm. You gave it to him, just a goodbye souvenir. It was a throwaway though, only giving it to him so he could have something so he could eat (but you actually just want him to think about you when he eats it).

"And i'll know where to look." He gazes down at you, relaxed from just seeing you. You were actually real. "See you." He smiles at you. Carl's heart felt like it was going soft, all from you and your fleeting touches— gentle and caring. Your teasing tone and nature made him feel like he wants to stay here forever, never wanting it to end.

But he knows he'll have to wait, going out the door and waving back to you. You wave back and go back to what you were doing. He's overjoyed— the dream girl he always wondered who was, was you.

He swore he'd make you come with him, but all he had to do was wait. This wasn't going to be the last time you see each other— because he isn't going to let his dream girl go that easily, not this time, not ever again.

I didn't even realize how long I made this one! wowiee this was such a cute fic, i'll make a part 2 to this, let me know if you want one ! also might take me until next week to make a part 2 to "so high", just figuring some school stuff out :3 ✮⋆˙

tags : @carlslvr @shadowybasementmiracle

wanna be tagged the next time I post my fics? let me know ꩜ .ᐟ

[sleepyangelkami]

Recently got into the walking dead and let me just say i’m obsessed with your carl fics. It’s alarming how many times i’ve read them lmao.

CLINGY c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.4K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - being clingy was the most natural thing in you and carl's relationship after all the trauma you'd both endured. but when things get too much for carl, he shuts you out, leaving you to assume only the worst.

 ☆ WARNINGS - clingy relationship, crying, blood, gore, mentions of death, walkers, mean!carl, yelling, stress, mentions of violence, weapons, (2) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

clingy was a word you had much distaste for.

when the world literally ended, there wasn't much to do aside from survive and hold onto your loved ones. you'd been alone so long, people slowly falling, dying, leaving. before you knew it, it was just you and the group you'd found. well, they'd found you.

more specifically, he'd found you.

the boy with the sheriff's hat, eyeing you with his gun in the air. you made no sudden movements, eyes cast down on the ground as if you didn't care whether or not the bullet would fly from his gun.

it was just you in the house they'd raided. you didn't have a family, nor a group. just you, covered in blood, starved and in a kind of fetal position, knees pressed against your chest as you eyed the pool of blood surrounding you. some of your own, some from the ones before.

when you'd met the group, you had nothing. dead parents, dead siblings, nothing seemed to matter anymore. the world was gone, the people you loved either dead, taking the easy way out or leaving it to the walkers. or perhaps they'd left you, walking out when things got tough, leaving you and the remains of your family behind.

the screams from outside of the house would alert you of their soon fate afterwards.

you opened up, albeit it was slow.

you liked to believe there was an instant connection between you and the boy. he lowered his gun almost instantly, realising you weren't a threat behind the blood and glassy eyes. how he'd known, you weren't sure. he just did.

he rushed towards you, calling downstairs for his father in a panic.

you didn't speak much at first, staring when he'd offered his name. carl grimes. the boy you'd soon learn to love.

and with time, you made a new family. daryl dixon was a good idea for a father, you soon learned, carol sort of alike a mother when she snuck you an extra one of her homemade cookies.

you lost others, more fell. but you and carl never frayed.

rick and michonne would always catch you together, smiling and looking at one another knowingly. it was safe to say that it was no surprise when carl announced you were together. after all, you were practically joined by the hip.

this brings us back to the beginning. the word clingy.

you hated the word as much as you hated the death surrounding you. could anyone truly be clingy in a world like this? is anyone really too much? you liked to believe that there was no such thing as too much anymore. people died, left, separated. any day could be someone's last. you'd prefer to know that you'd spent all the time with them as you could.

if that was clingy, then so be it.

carl was used to this side of you, he catered to it, if anything, he matched it. he was used to the way you laid against him, talking lowly as he went about his tasks.

there was a grey cloud looming over alexandria at a time like this. the survivors were getting more powerful and it was plaguing carl's mind. you did your best to be as gentle as you possibly could, attempting to console the boy but it seemed no matter what you did, he would find himself bubbling over with anger.

"will you pass me the carving knife?" he cut you off mid-speech, ignoring the way your lips instantly shut closed, eyes searching your side of the table.

you weren't hanging from the boy as you usually were, picking at his hands and fingers, playing with them as though they were dough. you weren't snuggling into him while he placed his arm around you. your normal routine simply didn't exist with the past week or so.

but if space was what he needed, you were more than happy to offer that to him. "okay." you mumbled, picking up the knife you thought was the carving knife and passing it to him.

you didn't know much about knives and guns, usually sitting your head on your knees and listening to the boy speak about them. yet, every time he told you what was what and their intent, everything went in one ear and out the other. he'd often admire the way you asked a thousand questions over, one's he'd already answered. he'd only smile, answering them again.

now you realised perhaps you should have been listening.

apparently, you'd passed him the wrong one. you heard what you assumed was a swear pass his lips in a whisper as he placed the knife back to the table roughly. "what's wrong?" you questioned softly, watching him pick up a thinner knife, sanding it down with the block in his hand.

"got the wrong one." but his voice was anything but the gentle carl you knew and loved. this one was sort of mean, a tone of anger behind his words. "how many times have i explained all of them to you? i mean, you still don't know, seriously?"

it seemed as though the dark cloud over alexandria had moved into the room belonging to carl grimes. you found yourself sneaking your knees closer to your chest, just like the day he'd found you. "sorry." you mumbled, glancing away.

confrontation wasn't exactly your forté.

it didn't help that fighting with carl was a rare experience. "maybe if you just listened to me every now and again we wouldn't have this problem."

offence took over your face, brows knitting together. "I do listen to you." but when he talked about things like knives and guns it was sort of hard for you to keep up.

a scoff left his lips. "sure you do." angry carl never failed to show you a different side of the boy you loved.

you stared at him in shock, wondering where the sudden attitude towards you was coming from. you knew he was stressed, understood it even but you'd done nothing to deserve the hatred being thrown your way.

that was when the shaky, "why're you being so mean?" left your lips.

like i said, confrontation wasn't something you practiced often. you were sort of unsure of where to go in this situation.

carl breathed out a ragged breath, practically throwing the tools onto the table. you jumped slightly, staring at him with widened eyes. "maybe you're the one being too clingy." his eyes stared into yours but they didn't look like the ones you'd fallen for so deeply. "just..." breathing through his nose. "just leave me alone for a bit, yeah?"

clearly, he wasn't in the mood for any of this.

and neither were you.

you spoke no words as you quickly scooped up the bag on the ground, making a haste exit towards the door. the sound of a quick sniffle before you shut the door closed was enough for the weighing bricks to fall down on carl.

the sudden severity of the situation dawned on the boy.

he'd made you cry.

and he swore never to be the cause of your tears.

he didn't run after you, though, much too caught up in his own head. the stress of the entire situation of the saviours was weighing on him too. he crashed his elbows onto the table, shoving his head between his hands and groaning. he wondered if he'd ever get anything right.

before he could get too far with the self pity, his bedroom door swung open to reveal his father.

"what was that?" the older man questioned, not giving a clue to what he was talking about. but carl could guess. "y/n just ran out of here crying, you have somethin' to do with that?"

in a moment like this, disappointed dad gazing at him, carl would have done anything to wipe that look off his face. "dad, you don't get it―" about to explain himself, weave out of whatever this was.

"i don't care." was the answer he gave, having better things to be doing than sorting out this teenage relationship himself. "fix it." and finally slamming the door.

rick always taught carl how respect worked, he punished him when he was wrong, rewarded him when he was right. he didn't teach him to act like this.

it was night fall when carl finally found himself walking around the town of alexandria. he was sort of hoping you were out here instead of back at home for he really didn't feel like speaking to daryl at the door and asking were you home. however, he searched every nook and cranny, every place you usually went when you were upset and yet he walked back empty handed, realising you definitely hadn't been outside.

finally, he found himself standing on your doorstep, sucking in a breath before knocking on the white door, the light from above shining down on his face making him squint.

the door opened to reveal carol, thankfully not daryl. carl really couldn't imagine what daryl would have to say to him right about now. he just hoped he was out hunting somewhere or other, at least then he wouldn't get the urge to haul the boy off his front porch.

"y/n?" is all carol questioned, she was dressed in her own hunting attire and carl could only guess that she was on her way out too.

he pressed his lips into a thin line. "she home."

the woman nodded. "upstairs." before swapping places with the boy, making her way outside while inviting him in. "carl." he looked towards her. "don't make me regret leaving you inside."

he only nodded, allowing her to close the door from the outside.

finally, the silence of your house enveloped him.

you, carol and daryl all lived in the same two story house but sometimes it seemed only you lived here. all the decorations were your work, pictures and photo frames, some of before, some of now, everything screamed... you.

it was that cosiness about you that made him fall for you all that time ago.

his boots found the stairs, making his way up and finding your bedroom door, the last door on the right hallway.

your door was white, a brass handle leading him into the room he'd seen a thousand times before.

he'd imagine your room at the other side of the door, pretty pink bedsheets with matching curtains. he'd found the curtains for you on a separate occasion, you'd been over the moon. and the pretty lights that decorated your walls along with the picture frames and the stuffed animal he'd found tucked away in your bloodied back so long ago, now fresh against your bed.

a sort of comfort from the world before.

he knocked, receiving no answer.

"sweetheart? it's carl." again, he was met with the mere silence as his fingertips hung heavy against the door handle. "i'm coming in, okay?" it wasn't a question, more like a warning.

when he did walk in, he was met with a sight he'd seen before.

tears coating the edges of your eyes, sitting criss-cross legged on your bed in your favourite pijamas, pretty stuffed toy between your legs. carl had seen this before, held you through it, comforted you and swore that whoever hurt you would pay. what was he to do now when he was the cause of your sorrow?

"hey, baby." his tone was as gentle as could be, making his way to sit next to you on the bed. "missed you."

you two were so different.

carl had the stubbornness of a mule, when things got tough he found it awfully hard to apologise, not that he ever had to do it much. though, he'd much prefer for everything to disappear in a blink of an eye, forget everything ever happened and go back to the way you two were.

and when you were upset? you shut off.

"i was thinking..." still avoiding the two words that would seemingly make it all okay. "maybe next week we can go someplace? find somewhere to hang out for the weekend, like a night away." his words prodded no reaction from you. "how's that sound, angel?"

a shrug was the only thing he was met with.

your glassy eyes strayed far from his, not even attempting to look him in the eyes. he sighed, unsure of where to go. "look at me, sweet girl." long fingers entrapping your chin and turning it towards him.

there was a pang of guilt as he looked in your glassy red eyes, evidence that you'd been crying earlier that day. and he'd been the cause of it.

finally, the long awaited. "I'm sorry." and carl the stubborn mule grimes didn't just apologise to anyone. "shouldn't have talked to you liked that, c'mere." in a time like this, all you needed was comfort, that was what compelled you to move with his hands, climbing into his lap. the sound of your soft cries soon filled his ears. "i know, i know, 'm so sorry." hand rubbing circles against your back, holding you close.

you didn't mean to cry the way you did, but the weight of the day collapsing on you was enough for you to cling to the boy.

you buried your head in the crook of his neck, wisps of his own hair in front of your face, his hat steady on his head as he held you so gently, as though you were made of glass.

a wobble of your bottom lip as you pulled away from the boy, holding your hands up to your face as if to shield yourself. there was something so scary about him seeing you cry. "i didn't..." your own voice cracking. "i didn't mean to be clingy."

his heart quite literally shattered.

"no, no." his voice sort of high pitched as he pulled your hands from your face. "no, you're not, sweetheart, i promise you're not."

you sniffled at the boy. "but you said―"

carl couldn't dare to hear the rest of such a sentence. "i didn't mean it, baby, i promise." he pulled you back towards his chest, head finding his neck again only this time you didn't cry as hard, mere sniffles leaving your nose. "was bein' an asshole, baby, 'm so sorry."

it'd take a while for you to believe him.

but he'd do whatever it took.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[comatosebunny09]

preface [ trois ] | sylus

summary: he still can’t make out any telling features, a doily-patterned veil draped over her head. she’s not you. the body type and stature don’t match. still, she’s another girl he can spare a terrible fate in his journey to find you.

warnings: human trafficking, graphic depictions of violence, minor character deaths, reader has hair, reader implied to be femme, mild language, allusions to reader’s past as a kidnappee, sylus is still murderous

tagging: @world-of-hearts @athanasia-day @falon-fen @queen-serena88 @karespocketboyfriends @mrswanel @readerxyourfave @sunsets-and-crows @antonneva @libriomancer, @queenofstresss, @aeanya @socutesotall @babyx91 @syyyy4ever @karolamurdock

notes: limerence | part 1 | part 2

now playing: o fortuna - carl orff

He recalls it like it was yesterday.

You, clad in black, bearing enough skin to tease. Your back was to him as you fiddled with something, none the wiser to his molten stare. 

He’d watched you from the rail of his club’s second-floor balcony. Thoughts consuming him as guests trickled out, drunk, merry, and sure to return. He waited until the last of them left—until his staff scuttled about, clearing off tables and reorganizing expensive bottles at the bar—to make his move.

You were a guest headliner—someone he occasionally invited to perform on stage. Lux was known for more than just its atmosphere. 

The entertainment was unmatched, and the women were attractive. Sylus couldn’t deny how the scene became more…interesting with you around. You even managed to draw out a few of his enemies for him to snuff out, the bastards greedy and wanton in the face of fresh meat.

With a smirk, Sylus descended the stairs. Stopped behind you, watching you struggle to unlatch your heels from your ankles. 

You glanced up when he poured himself onto the red leather ottoman across. So close, his knees bracketed either side of yours, and he’d caught a whiff of that warm scent you carried. 

Wordlessly, he drew your foot into his lap. Your expression warped into one of brief astonishment before it was replaced by something sultry. A mask you often donned when putting on a show, though he was curious to see what truly lay beneath it. 

You leaned back on your palms whilst he undid the buckle. He glanced up, a chuckle dredged from his chest as you dragged your toes down his quad in thanks. It was flattering. Felt nice, little tingles ricocheting up his spine. 

He hadn’t pursued the touch of a woman for some time, too busy solidifying his position in the underworld to entertain temptations of the flesh. 

He was here on business. His personal reservations could wait. 

Sylus patted his thigh, signaling you to give him your other foot. You had been dancing all night. Smiled pretty, made him money. The least he could do was reward you for your generous contributions. Show a little empathy. 

You obliged, an appreciative hum in your throat when he freed you of your shackle. Reluctantly, gently, he let your feet slide to the floor. Contemplated massaging them–they were soft and agitated. But he was here to preposition you, not seduce you. 

Not yet.

Sylus leaned forward in an easy slouch with his elbows resting on his quads. Tapped his fingers together, studying you. 

You were quite a sight beneath the red throb of the lights overhead. The imperfections lining your features made you all the more appealing, hiding beneath the glamor you posted up with your Evol. He could easily see through it, thanks to his Aether Core.

He knew about that, too. The power you housed. Part of why you were such a showstopper, your Evol allowing you to make these elaborate costume changes and transitions in the midst of performing. 

He didn’t know the full extent of your abilities just yet. Figured they were more than cheap parlor tricks. But having the power of illusion on his side was something he couldn’t get on without. 

Clearing his throat, Sylus spoke low and even, voice slightly above the dull pulse of the music turned down in the background. 

“How would you like to be a permanent employee here?” 

You quirked a brow. Pitched forward with a hand propped under your chin, your eyes glittering with mischief. “I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh. “That easy, huh?”

“What? You thought I just came here out of the goodness of my heart?” Your eyes flickered downward, and you leaned in, toying with the first button of his shirt.

He was surprised by how simple you’d made this for him. No coercion, no ultimatums. It’s as if you were waiting for him to preposition you, coiled like a spring itching to be released. He couldn’t help wondering if you knew the full extent of what he’d ask of you. The people he’d employed were more than just pretty faces. But that conversation would come later once he’d earned your trust, your loyalty. 

Nonetheless, he put back up the businessman front as he stood. Twirled the strap of your heel on a slender finger, and he peered down at you with a lazy smirk, offering you his hand to help you up and to seal the deal. 

“Then it’s settled. You work for me now,” he replied coolly. Matter of factly, no room for you to back out.

You stood with his help, your hand in his electrifying. You bore a look of amusement as you shook it, sensing there was more to this ‘job’ than what was shown at the surface. You were signing a contract with the Devil and didn’t even know it. 

“Cool. Do I get a welcome basket or something?”

Sylus snorted. Beautiful and cheeky. He could tell this would be the beginning of an interesting partnership. “I could arrange that.”

The mirth around you dwindled, and you studied him for a beat before you grew antsy. Held out your hand as the moment subsided, tapping your foot expectantly.

“Can I have my shoe back now? I should probably get goin’ before you try to coerce me into being your secretary, too.”

He canted his head, feigning ignorance. Woundedness. “I thought I’d hold onto it as a memento.”

You huffed out a laugh. “A memento for what?”

“For our new friendship.”

You snorted. “That’s real creepy, Mister.” Made a grab for your heel, yet Sylus held it just out of reach. You tried for the shoe again, your fragrance overhauling his senses as your warm chest brushed against him. 

He suddenly found himself wanting to smell you all the time, wanting to feel the heat wafting off your skin more often. And that pretty smile you wore—he had to have it for himself. 

You looked at him with a devastating curl to your lips, hands on hips. “Do you tease all your new recruits like this, or am I a special case?”

He chuckled, something tugging in his chest. “Consider it a part of the onboarding process.”

As you stood there, silently scrutinizing each other beneath the strobing lights, he found his interest in you sinking deeper than surface level. And he suddenly wanted to know about everything that made you tick. 

He felt a magnetic pull towards you, like the moon drawn to Earth. Something he couldn’t quite place. He’d be remiss to say he wasn’t curious to see where this partnership could lead. 

The deal was sealed that fateful night, even if it hadn’t been in black and white. He owned you. 

And over time, you would learn that you owned him, too.

—

The present comes sliding back in, banishing his memories to the furthest reaches of his mind. He’s caught reminiscing like you’re already dead. Catastrophizing, assuming the worst. 

He knows better. You’re tough. Stubborn. Still, he doesn’t err in his steps to find you. There’s always that just in case. Just in case your Evol failed you. Just in case they incapacitated you long enough to sell you off.

He’s panting. 

Not from the exertion of fighting and killing. Rending flesh from bone, turning men to ash as he saps their energy to use as his own. Not from painting the ship’s walls with the soot of burned bodies, leaving a statement for anyone who dares to steal from him again.

No.

He pants with an effort to restrain himself. 

He could sink this ship if he so chooses. But there are still innocents onboard, trickling out in onesies and twosies. Still goons charging at him from the exits with weapons poised at his chest as if they know who he is and what he’s after—laid out the red carpet, pulling out all the stops.

And he still has yet to locate your whereabouts. 

He ducked in and out of vacant rooms after reaching the cruise ship's lowest cabins. He funneled henchmen into the hallways one by one, snuffing them out like coals. Followed their source, gritting his teeth as the trail came up cold.

He eases into another area once the fray dies down. An inky darkness greets him. He crouches when he hears a lifeless, robotic voice speaking. Rattling off descriptions like it’s reading a menu. 

Sylus’ blood turns to icicles in his veins. Could this be the auction he’s been seeking all this time?

He peers over the partition, blocking him from sight. Spots a gentleman clad in a suit, his back facing Sylus as he sits in a leather armchair.

Two more men similarly sit on opposite sides of the room, forming a triangle. Various animal masks conceal their faces. 

Fixed in the center is a ceiling-high, glass display case with three figures clad in black standing in its center.

Two bodyguards flank the smaller being shrouded in an onyx cloak. One guard reaches up to peel back the robe’s hood, and Sylus’ breath catches. 

The figure is inherently feminine, clad in a lingerie set. Gaunt, like she’s been deprived of a proper meal for days. If not for the henchman with their hands manacling her forearms, Sylus is sure she would collapse. 

They’d dressed her up all pretty like a doll. Tried to make her look more appealing, though Sylus was sure these men would buy her regardless of how emaciated she looked. 

He still can’t make out any telling features, a doily-patterned veil draped over her head. She’s not you. The body type and stature don’t match. But still, she’s another girl he can spare a terrible fate.

The metallic voice chimes in overhead again. The bidding starts at one million. The gentleman before Sylus raises a white paddle, soundlessly placing his bid. Sylus’ stomach churns. He’ll kill everyone here, he swears it.

He observes passively for another moment. Bristles when the girl in the case weakly attempts to free herself from her captors. They shake her in warning, and the veil slips off.

Sylus swallows thickly, his power prickling on his fingertips. He waits until the bid reaches five million before he makes his move. Soundless as the tendrils of his Evol snake around five necks. Before they know what’s amiss, five sources of life are siphoned, sinking into Sylus’ body. 

The woman gasps. Throws herself against the glass, pounding on it with weakened fists. Begs Sylus with quivering, blood-crusted lips to save her. 

He’s detached as he snaps his wrist, the entry of the display case easing open. She studies him a moment longer in her quiet panic. Looks between him and the open door, unsure of what to do. 

Sure, he’s disappointed that she isn’t the woman he seeks. She isn’t you. But he wouldn’t hurt her. That would go against all the effort he put forth tonight to bring this human trafficking ring to its knees. 

He signals for the girl to leave with a cant of his head. She snatches up the cloak, hurriedly draping it about her shoulders before skittering out of sight.

Sylus’ mouth pulls into a rigid line. Nostrils flare. He burns with malice, breathing deep to quell the urge to burn this ship to the bowels of the ocean. Still, he has faith that you’re still on board somewhere. He just has to look harder.

Dipping out of the room, he enters another. Goons no longer pursue him, either thoroughly snuffed out or they fled in the wake of Sylus’ ire. 

He’s startled when he hears an enmeshment of grunts. One high and light, and the other gurgled and strained as if being choked. He darts from behind the partition in this new room, and the sight that welcomes him makes his body flood with something glacial.

He pants again, but this time for an entirely different reason. 

A wave of relief crashes into him. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

In the center of a case similar to the one he’d seen just moments before is you. And you’re in the midst of choking out a guard with the links of your cuffs. He’s red-faced and fighting for his life, clawing at the links until bloody, jagged lines marr his neck. It’s to no avail.

With one final jerk, bone snaps, and the sigh of a life fleeting signals his demise. Your breaths are labored as you sit amid your carnage—four guards taken out similarly, haloing you—fixing Sylus’ with a reposed look.

“Took you long enough,” you puff with an inkling of a smile. And he doesn’t think he’s ever found you more beautiful, even beneath the sweat and grime and blood—thankfully not yours—that you’d accumulated throughout your capture.

Sylus moves on autopilot when his wits return. With a waggle of his fingers, your cuffs fall free from your wrists, accompanied by the shackles around your ankles. You must’ve put up quite the fight. He swells with pride despite the moment, and if you knew the doubts he housed about your safety, you would surely fight him.

He pries the display’s door open with his Evol and conquers the space between you in three long strides. Kneeling on the floor beside you, Sylus ingests your features. Smooths your sweat-slicked hair away from your face. Turns your head this way and that, scrutinizing you for injuries.

“I’m fine,” you assure on an exhale. Wrap your lithe fingers around his wrist as if to soothe, and it’s like he’s been shocked by static. He studies you a moment longer, painting a frantic triangle between your eyes and mouth before taking your hand in his, trying to haul you up.

“Let’s get you out—”

“Ow!” you hiss, flinching back. Sylus’ eyes glaze over you before taking in your ankle's swollen, purpling state. His eyes narrow, and he resists an urge to growl. 

If he hadn’t already killed all of them, he’d make them pay for hurting you.

“Might’ve sprained it,” you laugh, wincing at the stickiness of your voice. 

He peers at you fondly before scooping you into his arms, mindful of your injury. You instinctively curl into him, your arms loosely winding about his neck, and you nuzzle into the hollow of his shoulder. 

With his adrenaline slowly draining, Sylus cautiously moves you back into the hallway. Steps over the viscera and carnage he had caused, severed hands and errant teeth littering the once clean, blue, carpeted floors.

He has you back. You’re safe. A little bruised, but you’re safe. And he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so grateful. 

Slowly, the pair of you are consumed by the shadows of his Evol before morphing out of existence.

—

“Where will they go?” you ask with a wistful, faraway look in your eyes as Sylus’ coat blankets you, flapping in the breeze.

Luke and Kieran were herding the girls from the semi from the docks into awaiting vehicles, accompanied by a slew of Sylus’ staff members from Lux. They were patient and understanding as they gave the girls blankets and water, ushering them into Jeeps and SUVs to be transported to safety.

You watch them from Sylus’ arms, and he catches a glimpse of the girl you were all those years back. Hopeful and optimistic despite being in captivity yourself, knowing that no one would come for you. 

With his eyes transfixed on you, he speaks low and even. “Back to their families.”

You gaze at him, your eyes glazing over with a swell of tears. A moment of rarity between you, where you drop your defenses and grace him with a peak of the woman that resides beneath that callused exterior you outwardly project to the world—a means of protecting yourself. 

“What if they don’t have families?”

He shifts you in his arms, a smirk touching his lips. “Then we’ll do everything we can to help them find their place in this world again.”

You look at him with a reverent gleam to your irises. Shyly nuzzle into his chest, your voice so small, he has to strain to hear it.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Seriously.”

Something tugs at his heartstrings. He merely nods, walking you through the line of vehicles. The click of his loafers on the pavement echoes whilst he takes you towards the moonlight, nestled against the horizon. 

—

“You’re not supposed to sleep with a concussion, sweetie,” Sylus husks, and it surprises even him how soft he sounds. 

You must feel so smug, having the big, bad Boogeyman fretting over your well-being like this. He could crush you with his bare hands, yet he’s cautious as he strokes some of your baby hairs away from your forehead, your temple cool to the touch.

“Not sleeping,” you rasp, your lips pulling into a disarming smile. You don’t sound convincing, your voice heavy with sleep. But could he argue with you? “Just resting my eyes a bit.”

He snorts, your smile infectious. He lapses into silence when your smile fades and your breaths even out. Reluctantly withdraws his hand, watching you slumber atop his bed, and you just look so natural between silken, red sheets with the firelight waltzing over your visage. 

It’s been an eventful night. You deserve some rest. He feels better, having you safely tucked away in the penthouse, far from the arms of men with impure intentions, far from your memories. Should anything else come up, he knows you’ll be alright with the twins and his employees downstairs keeping tabs on you.

Regardless, his brows furrow with worry. Unlike him, you haven’t this miraculous ability to heal as quickly as he does. 

As if summoned from his thoughts, Mephisto appears through a flurry of inky smoke on his wrist. Sylus scratches the crow’s chin affectionately before fixing him with a serious, crimson stare. “Keep an eye on her,” he implores. 

Said crow hops from his wrist onto the side of the bed near your face, and in his way, he signals to Sylus that you’ll be left in good hands. Or wings.

With a final sigh, Sylus peels himself from the bedside chair. Stuffs his hands in his pockets, sparing one final look at your snoozing figure from over his shoulder. He can’t help how his lips twitch, something like affection warming his veins as he stands in the doorframe.

He exits the penthouse, down the elevator shaft, and through the stilled halls of Lux. Dumps himself into the balmy arms of the summery night. 

There’s still unfinished business to attend to, and now that he knows where Fate’s stronghold is, he figures he’ll pay an old friend a much-needed visit.

And maybe teach him a thing or two about stealing from The Devil.

[violetashfall]

Clumsy Boy.

Where Carl is a wreck...

┊ ➶ ｡˚

!basically fem reader (No physical disc) - 3rd person!

Pretend Warnings;

Cringey

Carl is a complete loser in this !!

Got some notes at the end of the fic, just me complaining...

Carl Grimes had gotten significantly more uncoordinated after he lost his eye… his depth perception was not what it once was, and paired with the headaches and brain fog, his clumsiness only got worse.

He took offence to the way his eye deceived him, looking so insulted whenever a water bottle hit his lips before he could part them, how forks kept knocking against his teeth when he tried to take in food.

One person who always witnessed his struggles was [name], she couldn’t help but notice his stumbles and the empty grasps he made whenever he missed whatever he wanted to hold.

His clumsiness was ever-present in how close he got to her while talking and walking, always finding himself a few many steps too close. He tried to make it seem casual, he totally meant to stand foot-to-foot with her–He didn’t even notice when the rim of his sheriff’s hat hit against her head–and when he took those very slow steps back, they were so inconspicuous he might as well have been a ninja…

But of course, Carl was lying to himself, he looked like Bambi learning to walk on ice whenever he was with the poor girl who kept falling victim to his wobbly brain.

But [name] found it sweet – Carl looked so flustered when he accidentally wavered too close, how his lanky arm bumped into hers when they walked… his coordination skills only got worse when the sun came out, blinding his only good eye and making his foggy brain ache further.

It was how he ended up in such an awkward situation: He hated ladders with a burning passion now his mind was constantly dizzying. He had to climb one at the lookout post during the summer day, clinging close to the rung bars - focusing on not getting too woozy. [name] stood at the top, looking over Alexandria with her hand extended for him to take - the one he missed as he clambered to the top with the fear of a tiny puppy - for such a strong boy, he was acting like a kid terrified of heights, throwing himself into the lookout with zero grace and little self-preservation left.

[name] couldn’t dodge him quick enough when Carl tumbled into her, the crown of his head harshly knocking into her chin - making [name] freeze as the force drove her to bite her tongue. When Carl felt the clunk on the top of his head it was already too late, eye-level with [name] once his legs were fully straightened, already taking a tripped step forward and already hanging off her to stop his fall. Their noses hit each other and worst of all, their lips ungainly brushing together.

[name] pushed herself back and forced him upright in a split second, hearing his thick boots thudding against the floor as he stabilised himself. [name] fell backwards raggedly, tripping on her shoelace - his clumsiness was infectious apparently. Not only did [name] feel her sore teeth and hammering chin, but her lips were also buzzing like his had zapped an electric current through them. Her nose wrinkled at him, pure perplexity taking her face as she stared–

“Jesus, Carl!” She exclaimed like a bruised child, She was a bruised child; tasting that pinprick of blood that pipped out her bitten tongue, knowing she’d get a purple mark on her chin from his thick skull colliding with it. The one day he didn’t wear that stupid sheriff's hat… at least it'd cushion the blow.

Carl looked down at her, eye shot open and brain paused in a deep drowning feeling of mortification… and an upcoming migraine. “I’msorry–” His words spilt so fast they were incoherent, hands extended yet frozen by his sides - he had practically just attacked her–Thrown himself at her like she was a lake and he needed to hide from the wasps swarming his head–and it didn’t even work! His brain burned, lit ablaze by the thoughts in his head telling him he was an idiot, asking himself why it was always her.

“You sneeze on me yesterday and now break my jaw?” She whined dramatically, grumbling and pouty, cupping her chin and instinctively touching her lips. She gawped at Carl who's face was burning scarlet - not only had he been weird with her for months, hindering his progress with her at every turn by stepping on her toes or stabbing her with his fingernails when trying to hold her hand–something he was so embarrassed by he was timid to try again, especially after she began figuring out what his murderer name would be after he finally killed her–He had also just ruined his chances further by attacking her with his gracelessness.

“--I didn’t mean to,” Carl cringed at himself, heart pounding in his chest as he kept inwardly begging for the world to swallow him up right there, partly wanting to glare at her for bringing up when he sneezed on her - he had begged her to forget about it, he just wanted her to think he was cool. “Both times,” He muttered, “Any of the time–All of it.” He spilt, moving towards her with stumbled steps and fumbling arms. He tried to help her up - thanking god he at least held her hand with more ease this time.

He couldn't believe himself, he wasn’t awkward, he was outspoken and smart - but Jesus, he did not act like it... especially now, staring at her apologetically with a tight grasp on her upper arm as if she would flee if he let go, but in reality, it was to stop himself from falling to his face without her support, he felt dizzy.

“You’re fine,” [name] said, side-eyeing him as he helped her stand, feeling his hands shake against her. She usually found his clumsiness endearing, but she was startled this time, so much to process about that split second interaction. One thing [name] could tell was how by that tiny grimace on his face - one clouded by the most dorky, cringed, expression ever - that he was at the start of a migraine, and so was she if the pain in her chin radiated any further through her skull.

She started hoping their mistaken kiss would turn him into… well, just a Carl who didn’t keep colliding into her… but he wasn't a frog, and she was no princess, she scowled too much for it.

"You are fine? Right?" She asked, brows furrowing as she inspected his expression, seeing his jaw tight and eye squinted. "Just, Just a headache." He said, shaking his head and diverting his face further, not exactly wanting to look into her eyes when he was so mortified.

[name] huffed, Carl was back to his normal stubborn denial now, just with some extra embarrassment - he knew damn well she was about to tell him to take his painkillers, he'd give her that look as if to say 'Don't baby me' - he wasn't a child who needed to be reminded… but he couldn't bring himself to look at her after that colossal fumble, still flushed and awkward from basically kissing her. "I'm fine." He repeated, voice holding tenseness, something about how [name] stood quiet for a few seconds too long made him know she'd be teasing him soon enough for the massive blunder... he just wanted to get over it... and maybe smirk and kick his feet while thinking about how her lips briefly felt against his.

"...Why are you smiling?" [name's] brows furrowed further, watching Carl who held an expression mixed with pain, mortification and somehow cheekiness... his mind somewhere else for a moment.

Carl's eye widened when she called him out, looking at her as his tiny, dopey smile fell and got replaced with blabbering lips, "Shutup." He grumbled - getting ripped away from his lovey thoughts - about to let her hand go, yet he couldn't bring himself to, palm stuck to hers like glue, wanting to hold it too much to let it go.

(A/N) I hate writing in 1st / 2nd perspective so I just didn't... the use of [name] is pretty robotic but, hey... I have no defence. I kinda wanted to make this a 'neutral pronoun' fic but got pissy that my WiFi wasn't working so I didn't...

I just wanted to try writing fanfiction.. This was supposed to be a bot, and probably will still be. I didn't capture his character because I made him a dorky whump - I was in a silly mood!!

So yeah, first fanfiction, I felt like a completely stereotypical teenage girl writing this and I don't mind it.

[cultofdixon]

Secrets kept for another’s safety, until you lose it

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Some Saviors just can’t let go and go for what’s important to Daryl Dixon. But little did he know about more than losing his partner. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Injuries / Anxiety Attacks / Blood loss

Requested by: Anon

Just because the Saviors War is over, doesn’t mean it’s completely dealt with. People have their vendettas and everyone will forever be scarred by the actions of Negan, apart of the Saviors or not.

When Negan was taken to prison instead of hell, the group decided that it would be best to have shifts of their people to watch The Sanctuary until they’ve fixed everything. Or until they put someone in there for a more permanent position.

After a month in and it was Daryl and Y/N’s turn to watch the place. Both having their own imprisonment to the place because of Negan. So they weren’t all too happy to be back. But the night gave them time to themselves.

Which led them on the roof this night…

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Daryl asks, putting the joint back to his lips watching Y/N finish putting up the last of their clothes on the clothesline. “You haven’t talked in a bit”

“Am I really that talkative?” She laughs softly, tossing the extra pins in the empty laundry basket. “I’m just enjoying the night with my husband. What else more could I ask for?”

“Could go dark on yea and say for Negan to be dead”

“Well you’re not the only one wanting that” Y/N sat on the stool while Daryl laid on a mattress they had brought up there. Neither of them want to live inside the walls anymore. “Can we just think toward the future?”

“We can” Daryl pushed himself to sit up, offering the joint to her as she shook her head. He stared a bit confused before shrugging it off. “Again, sunshine…what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

Y/N fell silent once more before looking out toward the woods trying to find a good start to what she wants to talk about.

“You remember when you first held Judith?”

“Lil’ Ass kicker, yeah?”

“Do you remember what you told me afterward? When you handed her off to Hershel?”

The confused look on his face gave her answer.

“You said I don’t think I’d be cut out for this if I were Rick.”

“Why are yea bringing that up now? Are you—-“

“No!…No…” Y/N visibly slumped. “It’s just. The threat is gone. We have a home that is ours. Walls to protect us from the dead…we could. Do it. Have a child. Have that future…”

Give Daryl some credit when he has thought about this before. Having a child with his wife…all of their love put into a single human being. But all the anxieties that came with that thought flooded his mind.

“I don’t wanna lose you like Rick lost Lori” For something that happened years ago, it still haunted him. Especially with the scares they’ve had before a true moment of peace came.

“Daryl…that…that was going to happen to Lori regardless…she had a c-section with Carl, any baby after that was bound to come out the same way. This would be a first for me. We could prevent the possibility of needing a c-section”

“But there’s still a chance. I…” Daryl stopped himself to avoid her eyes and hang his head not ever wanting to think about that possibility. But then again…what was he going to do? “I just can’t” he whispers which led Y/N to bring herself to his level and coax his gaze back onto her. “I can’t lose you…I…I’ve lost enough and everything about how I’d be a terrible father aside I won’t be able to raise our child alone if I lost you…I will always need you”

As much as it broke Y/N’s heart to know his feelings and to have to push aside hers because the last thing she would want is to lose or hurt her husband…the tears fell from her eyes as she presses her forehead against his.

“Okay. Okay…You won’t lose me. Ever. I’m here…just me” Y/N brought her arms around his shoulders bringing her face into the crook of his neck as Daryl wrapped his arms tightly around her holding her close.

The things you do for love will always be something…that will always be changing

About four months later…

Y/N finally emerges from the basement living she and Daryl live in under the Grimes’s residence. She gave a smile to Michonne who said “good morning” in her arrival watching her friend join her and Judith at the kitchen island.

“Think you can handle breakfast?”

“Yes, I think I finally got over that ill spell” Y/N took a seat at one of the barstools smiling to Judith beside her before drawing her attention to the quick footsteps making their descend down the stairs.

“Hey! You’re up here, how yea feeling? Yknow Daryl—-“

“Has been having you ask every day since I came back from the Sanctuary not feeling well. I’m doing okay. Better than before”

“Great to hear that, I’ll tell Daryl in person when I make my rounds to the other communities” Rick smiles approaching Judith who was happy to see her dad. “First thing, take this little one to the teacher to watch her while we’re all out”

Michonne gave Y/N a confused look as she tiredly turned to her lifting her head from her hand.

“I’m gonna work in the pantry. So I don’t feel entirely useless”

“You’re allowed to take it easy” Michonne was stern with her words which brought the confusion out of Rick’s expression while he picked up Judith heading toward the door.

“I think I’ll be fine” Y/N shot a stern look at her friend as Michonne instantly waited for the front door to close, ultimately for Rick to leave. “The baby will be fine”

“Y/N, when are you going to tell Daryl so this doesn’t have been a secret between you and I? You’ve mentioned about a conversation you had with him that doesn’t quite add up to the fact that you didn’t——“

“He doesn’t want to have a baby.” Y/N frowns forming fists as she had the habit of digging her nails into her flesh to avoid the crying. “He doesn’t want to have a baby with him and I promised I wouldn’t. But I still got knocked up. Now he’s going to lose me or I’m going to lose him” the tears came anyway as the frustration was obvious in the discomfort in her face which led Michonne to maneuver around the island to bring herself beside her friend letting her rest her head on her shoulder as her arms caged her. “All I wanted was a family with the man that I love but the factors of being good enough or dying unexpectedly just floods that man’s mind and hell I can’t blame him for any of it. But now I’m plagued with it while I carry his child”

The two didn’t hear the click of the door finally closing. All that mattered was Michonne comforting her friend until it was time for the day to get started.

“I’ll be helping Gabriel rebuild his chapel with a few Saviors we have taken in for rehabilitation to show they can do something good. We are thinking of making it also the leading to the farm” Michonne stated as she walked Y/N to the pantry. “So I will be around if you need me. I’ll also keep an eye on the saviors. I know what some of them have been saying but we haven’t come across one angry with Rick or Daryl or literally any one of us”

“Are you really trying to say you’re watching out for my safety when I’m gonna be confined to a chair and a notepad for the most part”

“Yes, yes I am. Plus…the infirmary is right next door and I know Siddiq is doing his inventory and preparing shipment of medical supplies we’ve found on the runs we had recently.”

“Michonne”

“Yes?”

“You’re rambling” Y/N laughs opening the door to let herself in. “I’ll holler if I need anything” she says halfway inside when Michonne quickly reminded her about the no heavy lifting which got a scoff out of the woman.

About an hour or two has passed and Y/N groans out of boredom while sitting on the stool in the pantry. She stared out the window watching people walk passed or the few groups carrying wood and metal around for the walls and new buildings. Inventory was done, restock of what they have was done, and she was about to get started on the shipment for the Kingdom when she heard the door open.

“Michonne I really don’t need you watching—-“ Y/N stopped speaking when she watched the unfamiliar man step in quietly, assessing the environment. “Uhm. Can I help you with anything?”

“I was told by that scary priest that we hold the extra building supplies in here on occasion when the shed ain’t organized” He stepped around the pantry looking for himself before looking at Y/N as she couldn’t shake this familiar feeling. “You’ve got nails? Maybe a better hammer than this shit?” The hammer she didn’t notice before only confused her on where he pulled it out from. But asides from that, Y/N got off the chair and went to grab such for him.

“How’s the construction going?”

“It’s going. That Rick guy has us doing a lot just has his woman bossing us around” He scoffs looking at the jarred goods they have while Y/N knelt down to carefully go through a box for a smaller box of nails. “How can you even do what Rick asks y’all to do?”

“Have you even met Rick? He does the right thing, most of the time” Keeping Negan alive was the wrong one.

As Y/N rose to her feet with the box of nails she watched the man pull off the Polaroids that were stuck to the window. Just for a better look but it made her uneasy thinking he was going to get rid of them.

“Family?” He questions lifting up the ones with Glenn and Maggie, watching Y/N nod as he fixated on one with her and Daryl before putting them back. “Find’em?”

“Yeah, here” She handed off the box hearing him thank her before stepping out. But before she could even straighten out the pictures and take a seat, Y/N didn’t hear the door close entirely.

It didn’t take long for what to happen, happen.

The second she rounded the corner…Y/N flinched slightly being up close to the man without a name. She looked down to find a few nails shoved deep into her side. The shock made the pain not come right away and she was still experiencing it while he drove them to the point he couldn’t.

“You are just as dumb as you were back when you were his wife.” He glares into the deep pits of her soul as Y/N lifted her head from watching the blood spill from her side. Her mind racing to one thing. “Rick shoulda killed him. Your bitch dog of a man shoulda killed him. Maybe even the sword lady. Anybody. Then you all would’ve been seen as stronger instead of weak ass beings.”

“I-…I—-“ Y/N felt the tears spill and he grabbed her face to make her force eye contact.

“Let me take you away from everybody and I’ll watch them suffer” then the man quickly removed his hand when he heard voices outside. He pushed her aside but the blood loss led it to be a bit more dramatic as she fell to her knees.

As he made his escape through the back, Y/N slumped against the wall hesitant to touch her side. But they weren’t in prime condition, they could have some traces of rust and she can’t afford an infection if she wants any chance of that surviving.

A few were hard to pull out and one was embedded deep that Y/N contemplated letting it stay in but she was already this far.

Baby.

Baby.

Baby.

Baby.

…

Daryl… Y/N sobbed as she used her knife to cut into her to pull out the last nail that was embedded deep. She had to stop the bleeding so she could go get help and knew she had towels in the other room out of the foyer. But the blood loss was too much that when her weak body crawled about halfway there, it gave out.

“Daryl”

“I know this shithole sucks but yea said you’d be here earlier” Daryl clearly was in a mood while working on his bike, and with Rick only crossing his arms with an annoyed expression after his words. He knew he shouldn’t have expressed all of that. “Sorry. I’m frustrated.”

“Did something happen?”

“No…” Daryl frowns fiddling with a tool in hand. “Y/N hasn’t radio’d me today. Michonne was gonna give hers to my girl so I can check up on her but nothin’”

“I’m sure there’s a good reason for that. Plus I’ve got uh…an update of my own regarding your wife” Now he had to be careful. He did hear everything in the kitchen that morning but Rick isn’t the best at de-escalating the situation.

But it felt like fate for him to be interrupted by his radio in that exact moment.

“Rick—-Are you with Daryl?”

“Gabriel? Yes, why?”

“Michonne—-Hilltop” his end was cutting out and the urgency only stressed the retired sheriff and huntsman. “Bleeding—-Stopped—-Other reasons—-Y/N”

“Gabriel. Who’s injured?!” Rick shouts annoyed as the silence grew for a moment.

“Y/N was found bleeding—-Attacked—-Go to Hilltop”

“Load up. Forget the bike” Rick stated even though the second Daryl heard it was confirmed to be Y/N, he went right into the driver’s seat of Rick’s truck. Rick quickly got in the passengers and didn’t wait another minute to tell Daryl.

The accident happened a few hours ago before Gabriel radio’d Rick. He only comm’d him as per request from Michonne to update him and to get Daryl on their current actions of getting Y/N to the Hilltop. For their ultrasound machine. The one from the Sanctuary got moved to the Kingdom to be repaired by a retired technician.

Y/N sat up in bed in the medical trailer not liking the feeling of the IV in her arm and the antibiotics Siddiq had her on. Made the sick feeling return and the nausea meds never worked on her.

“Daryl is on his way” Michonne frowns sitting in the chair beside her as Maggie sat at the edge of the bed with her hand rested on her calf. Both being protective of her in her current state.

“I didn’t get a name of the guy…”

“Hun we don’t have to do that now” Maggie assured her. “Aaron and Rosita are looking for the guy back home with the description you gave before they moved you here. We don’t have to talk about it at all and focus on you staying alive and healthy”

The tears returned as Y/N pulled her hand away so she could hide her face in them. As she sobbed she didn’t hear the sound outside of 1. The car stopping in front of the trailer. 2. Daryl shouting at a few people. And 3. The sound of a Hilltop resident screaming after Daryl shoved them out of his way to get inside the trailer. The second the door opened and his worry expelled from him, Michonne and Maggie got up from their spots moving so he could get close to his wife.

Michonne motioned for Maggie to leave with her as she instantly went to Rick to talk about the guy that attacked Y/N.

Daryl instantly wrapped his arms around her feeling her grab fists full of his vest, making him want to squeeze her but he instantly pulled away when she winced. He started to check her person himself even if Siddiq does a great job with his assessment after dealing with the main problem. He even checked her bandages watching the discomfort grow on her face along with a few tears still falling.

“Are you okay? What did that bastard do to yea? Is the peanut okay?”

“What?”

“Is the baby okay?” Daryl’s voice cracked when asking that question as it only made Y/N cry even more giving him mixed signals.

Someone told him she thought and as much as that brought relief, it brought a lot of regret and pain that she didn’t tell him herself.

As she pulls from his touch, Daryl watches her reach for the table beside the bed grabbing a piece of paper before returning and giving it to him. He carefully took it into his hands looking at the picture of the peanut that was very much still there. He exhales relieved, feeling his own tears spill and the softness of her hands gently wipe them away.

“I’m sorry—-“

“No.” Daryl cut her off setting the photo in her lap so he could take her hands into his. “I…I shouldn’t have said what I said months ago…I didn’t want to push you away ever if this were to happen. Cuz let’s be honest with ourselves, we fuck like bunnies. It was bound to happen” he broke out in a smile listening to Y/N laugh to his words. He planted a kiss on her cheek as she kept that smile of hers. “We…we can die to anythin’ and that shouldn’t stop us from living.”

“Daryl…”

“Let’s go home, sunshine. Let me protect the both of yea”

Daryl helped Y/N get in the car before approaching the small group that was fixated on the woman.

“There’s a lead”

“You know I’m not gonna hesitate to kill that guy” Daryl stated and instead of receiving the usual Rick talk about no need to go far he was genuinely confused. “What”

“I’m going to help you get the son of a bitch. He does want to take us out because of Negan”

“You’re willing to be bait?”

“If Rick gets hurt, your ass is next” Michonne threats with a smile before joining Y/N in the car giving them a bit more time to discuss then joining their partners.

The day progresses into the night and Daryl found the right moment to slip away from his spot beside his wife so he could leave the house to take care of business.

As the man climbs over the wall after hiding out until night, he stumbled on his landing and when he straightened up he was face to face with Rick.

“Seriously. Just let me go”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen”

“Like you of all people will pull the trigger” He scoffs, making the mistake of reaching for his weapon because that led to a bolt piercing him in the side of the skull.

Rick watches the body fall limp to the floor before turning to Daryl emerging from the shadows.

“There’s gonna be more like him” Rick stated. “We won’t kill them all”

“Anybody, and I fucking mean anybody…who comes near my pregnant wife the way that guy did? Will meet the same fate”

And on that note, he returned back to his spot beside Y/N who instantly rolled over to face him and bring herself close.