#dusty carl
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#cute cats#big cats#cats of tumblr#cats#funny cats#cat names#maud#alaska#wombat#pretty princess penelope pinecone#Montgomery Montgomery Montgomery#dusty carl#Amelia#bobot
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aqua teen hunger force posting because uhh
#dusty my beloved#Dusty Gozongas#aqua teen hunger force#athf#athf master shake#master shake#athf carl#athf screenshots#adult swim
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To Kiss or To Kill. | Daryl Dixon |
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Masterlist
Summary: You and Daryl's relationship did not start kind. It did not begin as a friendship that turned sour over a quarrel. It began with fists and insults and continued this way until unforeseen circumstances leave you discovering that maybe Daryl and you were cut from the same cloth.
Warnings: rivals to lovers trope, daddy issues, language, descriptions of fights + bodily injuries, brief mentioning of homophobia, attempted SA, Reader is mentioned to be bisexual.
Word Count: aprox. 10k
Era: Prison to Alexandria
A/n: This is not my proudest work and I definitely think I could've done better with the material but I hope it can still be enjoyed!
Song recommendations: Ultraviolence - Lana Del Ray, Daylight - David Kushner , Sun Bleached Flies - Ethel Cain
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A lemon is sour from the start and rots with age.
The relationship you shared with Daryl could be described as said lemon.
It was nearing the end of summer. And though this meant the end of scorching heat, the winter proved to be a difficult season for survival. This morning at the prison had begun like any other. Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn we’re set out on a run to find any supplies necessary for the growing community. With all the new folk after the fall of the Governor only a few weeks before, it put more pressure on the group in their endless searches.
The town in which the prison resided did not hold many options when it came to scavenging but there was one place not yet explored. Pike County High School, the only high school in the small town of Zebulon, Georgia. Daryl thought the plan was futile. What was he to find in a high school besides dusty textbooks and inappropriate drawings in the bathroom stalls?
But none the less, Rick sent the trio on their way with a list of items in hand.
The school was as Daryl expected. Papers were thrown about the floors. Windows were broken leaving glass shards to crunch underneath their boots. Desks and chairs were thrown about. And worst of all, there was an eeriness that loomed the chaotic halls. But there was something else hanging in the air, stillness.
Maggie banged her gun on the rusted lockers and waited for any walkers to make themselves known. But the silence that followed was so loud you could practically hear the wind gliding through the shattered windows. Daryl took it a step further and threw a chair down the hall, creating a loud clattering noise as it collided with the wall. Yet still, nothing.
"Alright," Glenn muttered, his uneasiness just as high as the others. "Let's get what we need and get the hell out." Glenn pulled the list from his pocket, "Daryl find the nurse's office, take whatever you find no matter how unimportant it seems. Rick asked us to find some good books for the kids." Glenn passed the list over to a very unamused Daryl.
"Guess I ain't smart enough to find some books."
Daryl walked the halls of the school, crossbow in hand, keeping his ears peeled for any movements that weren’t his own. The silence unsettled Daryl for two reasons. There could be someone residing here which would make sense with the absence of walkers. But he could not shake the thought that there were once children who roamed these halls. Kids who were Carl’s age now. Kids who were planning who they wanted to be, and what they wanted their lives to be. But now their dreams were just as grim as these empty halls.
He spotted it as his gaze wandered from the walls to the floor.
Droplets of deep red stained the tile, varying in size and opacity. Daryl dragged his fingers along the droplets, smearing the coagulated blood. The blood was not as dry as Daryl had hoped.
Daryl drew his bow closer to himself, resting his finger on the trigger, and slowing his steps as he followed the trail of crimson dots. They led him exactly where he needed to be, the nurse's office.
The wood door creaked open, the natural light from the windows lighting the room. The scene worsened in the room. There were now blood smears staining the floors, cabinets swung open and drawers left agape. Someone had obviously barged in in a hassle, with desperate need to help themselves.
What concerned Daryl was the adjoined room to the far left, he could not see into the area unless he approached it directly. Keeping his bow up, he proceeded. Just as the tip of his bow peeked its way around the corner, it was knocked from his hands with a single blow.
Daryl had not known what knocked his bow from his grasp but he sure as hell felt the hit to his jaw.
The punch you had thrown sent a throbbing through your right hand, and the tendons in your arm fizzled with the sudden force. The man reacted quickly, grabbing you by both arms and pulling you away from the wall you had been hidden behind.
You ripped an arm from his grasp quick enough to unsheathe the blade on your thigh. The struggle continued, both of you equally pulling at the other in an attempt for dominance while simultaneously avoiding the cut of the blade. Random objects clattered to the ground in the tussle, including an old coffee mug falling and shattering.
The wound you had acquired on your leg was not helpful in this situation. Had your adrenaline not been so high, you would have dropped long ago. While you struggled to keep yourself standing, Daryl was simply shocked at the brute force of the woman in his grasp.
You paused for a moment, your grip on your knife tightening until your knuckles turned white. Just then you were able to look at him. Daryl saw the determination in your eyes. And though there was determination, there also seemed to be a pleading.
But with one forceful shove, you fell back, your leg buckling under you and your head hitting a cabinet.
A painful gasp left you, feeling the poorly done stitches rip your wound open again. Dropping your knife, your shaking hands grasped at the wound on your thigh as you pulled your back up against the cabinets. Your chest heaved with a mixture of adrenaline and pain. The skin on your thigh seared hot, every nerve around the wound throbbing.
Had you been paying attention, you would’ve noticed the man grip up his bow that was now aimed at you. It gave him time to examine you. You did not look dirty and unkept as other survivors had. Your hair was pulled back into a messy braid at the back of your head. Clothes black, all the way down to your boots. Holsters for weapons hung from your hips and thighs. And a pair of dog tags dangled around your neck.
“Daryl!” Maggie and Glenn came rambling through the door, weapons drawn. Daryl held a hand up to them, signaling that he was fine. The school was not one of great size, it did not surprise Daryl that they’d heard the tussle.
With the arrival of two new faces, you made an attempt to grab the blade you’d drop. But Daryl was quick and kicked the blade away leaving your hand to smack against the tile floor. Now left with no weaponry and not even a stable body to defend yourself, you’d figured you’d start begging to them or praying to God.
“I-I just want to leave. I’m-“ The sudden sharp tingle in your thigh cut your words short. You clenched your jaw tight and shut your eyes waiting for the muscle spasm to pass. “You’re not going anywhere on that leg.” Maggie holstered her gun and met you on the floor. There was a hesitation to her but in her heart she knew leaving you would be a death sentence. “My daddy can help you.”
“Maggie…”
“Glenn.” Maggie’s tone was stern, sending her husband a threatening glare.
While Maggie began to ask you questions, she motioned for the two men to scavenge the room. “What’s your name?”
“Y/n…”
Maggie pulled a handkerchief from her back pocket, scooting even closer to you. She motioned for you to lift your leg, “I’m Maggie. That’s Glenn and then Daryl.” She slipped the fabric beneath it, tying it in a tight knot around your wound. You winced at this, resisting the urge to pull her hands off of you.
“How many walkers have you killed?” Your eyebrows furrowed at the question. Had you known you were meant to keep track, you would’ve started long ago. “I don’t…know…a lot?” Your words were stuttered and shaken considering the pain you felt. You saw the man you had just fought glance at you from the corner of his eye. You began to debate if you should feel guilt for attacking him.
“That’s okay,” Maggie gave you a kind smile, “How many people have you killed?” She watched your face falter and your eyes shift to the ground then back to her. “Eight, I think.” Maggie gently nodded, her tone becoming slightly more serious “Why?”
“I’ve been alone for a long time.”
Maggie’s eyes met yours and for a moment, while you held each other's gaze, there was an understanding. An understanding that only another woman could begin to fathom.
Your arrival at the prison was nothing short of chaotic. The run starting as three and returning as four, though a possibility, was not expected.
A man with a beard pulled Daryl aside beginning to hound him with questions, Maggie supported you as you stood while Glenn ran off shouting the name Hershel. Much of everything after that was blurry. You could remember the man with the white beard mainly due to his kindness and gentle touch while he took care of your wounds. And you remembered the name Rick being tossed about in conversation.
"Let her rest." Hershel patted Glenn on the shoulder, muttering him a thank you for his help.
You lay flat on your back, your head and leg propped up with a pillow. You could not say it was the comfiest bed you'd ever laid in. You weren't even sure it was cozier than where you slept the night before. You fought the tiredness away, unsure of falling asleep in an unfamiliar community. But the medicine Hershel gave you made you drowsy. And soon every muscle felt heavy and your eyelids heavier.
You were unsure of how long you'd slept, only being startled awakened by the clank of metal. Rick noticed his mistake immediately pulling his hand away from the door of the cell, now standing with a guilty look on his face. "I'm sorry. I forget how loud these things are." You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm your beating heart. Rick entered the cell, opening the foldable chair Hershel had previously been sitting on.
"Was gonna drop these off for when ya woke up." Rick held up a glass of water and some type of protein bar. You adjusted yourself into a more proper sitting position, sending Rick a nod. As your mind awoke you became very conscious of your lack of pants, pulling the blanket farther up your waist. You were grateful that Ricks seemed to avert his eyes.
"I'm Rick.” His accent was noticeable.
“Y/n.” Just like your own.
“Maggie and Daryl told me a little bit about you but I wanted to speak with you directly.”
Rick held a certain type of authority to him. He spoke to you politely while still holding himself with dominance. A certain awkwardness became present when Rick spent a tad bit too long racking his brain for a question. “M’sorry about attacking, uhm… Daryl.” You decided to cut the awkwardness yourself.
To your surprise, Rick chuckled at your apology. “Please don’t apologize.” He looked at you, still with a smile on your face. “You were doing what you thought was right.” Rick shifted in the metal chair, resting his elbows atop his knees. "Did you serve?" Rick pointed to your neck, "Is that how you learned to fight?" You instinctively reached for the dog tags hanging from their chain.
"No no, they were my dads." You rubbed the smooth metal anxiously, feeling the indents of the letters and numbers imprinted. "I was an only child, only daughter at that, so my dad was rather protective of me... He had me in every boxing or self-defense class he could afford." A chuckle followed your words, reminiscing on the memory. Rick could understand your father's need to protect, having two children of his own.
"Rick." A gruff voice interrupted your conversation. The man named Daryl took up the doorway. When his eyes met yours, he seemed to falter under your gaze. He nudged his head in the opposite direction, asking for Rick to come with him. "Alright." Rick stood from the chair with an exasperated sigh, "Imma leave this right here for ya." Rick placed the water and protein bar on the chair in his place.
On his way out, he turned to you, "Maggie's gonna bring you up some clean clothes and help you get washed up. That alright?" His kind, yet tired, eyes sought an answer. You nodded and muttered a quiet thank you in return.
Your time in the prison since then could only be described as isolating. The injury on your leg kept you mostly restrained to the bed in your newly appointed cell. So, most of your time was spent with Maggie, Hershel, and occasionally Rick coming and going. Maggie cared for you in any way she could, nourishing you with food and assisting you in showering and changing. She had seemed to take a liking to you, as you did her, and you assumed you could now call her a friend.
However, there was another you don't think you could call much of anything.
Maggie helped you outside to the courtyard after you’d expressed that you were going mad looking at the same four walls. She’d left you with the book of Little Women, a blank leather journal, and a blue ink pen. “Holler if you need me, okay?” Maggie gently patted your shoulder before departing to meet Glenn only a few yards away.
Being outside after your imprisonment for the last 5 days, revived something in you. The heat from the sun's rays provided warmth on your skin but the cool breeze prevented you from overheating. You could not remember the last time you'd been outdoors without your head on a swivel or without the fear of being someone's dinner.
You could not focus on your book or your journal with the people who walked about the courtyard throwing glances your way. Everyone had heard about, the girl with the leg injury, with time. Random passers-by flashed you smiles, small waves, or even shy hello’s all of which you felt inclined to return.
“Y/n?” Though the voice was familiar, it did not stop the annoyance of having to put your pen down once again. You looked to the man, “Hi Rick.” Rick gleamed with a smile on his face “I’m glad to see you out here.”
Rick took it upon himself to take a seat at the table across from you making it obvious he desired to continue this conversation.
"Were you able to think about what we talked about?" Rick came by yesterday evening with a proposition for you. He invited you to join in with the group of people who went on runs for the community. Once you were fully healed, of course.
The only downside to this was who your main run partner was to be, Daryl. Rick saw something between you that you weren’t quite sure you saw yourself.
Daryl felt a wave of awkwardness standing behind Rick as he spoke to you. The same awkwardness he felt only a few days before standing in that doorway. Daryl knew of Rick's plans having been talked to about it only a few hours before.
He felt no need for a run partner. He was perfectly fine going about on his own but Rick thought the opposite.
What if something happens to you?
What if you get stuck somewhere?
We can’t afford to send search parties out for you.
All valid arguments from Rick. But Daryl had no desire to hear any of it. His stubbornness made him deaf.
Daryl could very clearly see you now. Whatever dirt and grime washed away revealed a remarkable woman. Your hair appeared soft and your dark eyes almost sparkled with the sun. He could see the definition of muscles on your biceps, highlighted by the short sleeves of your shirt. How you composed yourself screamed confidence as if you knew you were too pretty for a world so ugly.
And it infuriated him.
“Yeah, I uh...I wanna help any way I can.” Rick seemed pleased with your answer though the person behind him did not. You shifted in your seat, feeling Daryl’s eyes burn into you. In an attempt to redeem yourself, you spoke again, “If there’s anything I can do now, I want to.” Rick nodded at this, “We’ll find ya something.”
You could hear Daryl scoff from behind Rick. And though you tried to ignore it, you could not help the sour look you gave him in return. Daryl saw this as an invitation to continue his pronounced distaste.
“Don’t need someone who can’t walk holding me down.”
"Don't need someone who couldn't fight a girl holding me down."
Your response was quick-witted and more degrading to Daryl's masculinity than his insult to your injury. If you weren't mistaken, Daryl's eye twitched.
Rick stood from his seat to begin their exit, knowing the lengths of Daryl's temper. "You ain't nothing I couldn't handle." The chuckle you responded with and the glint of excitement in your eyes at the looming argument tested Daryl even more. "Sure, Daryl."
It was the first time you'd ever spoken his name to him. And he never stopped thinking of it for days to come. The way it rolled off your tongue and sounded with that southern twang. It left him restless at night and irritable during the day.
When your leg had healed and you'd grown tired of cleaning the library or serving daily meals, your first outing with Daryl was set. And it started just as rocky as it ended.
"Ya get bit, I ain't gonna hesitate to put a bullet in yer head."
"Why wait? I'm standing right here."
You remained quiet after that, not wanting to push the tension even more. But even the simplest of questions left Daryl huffing and puffing. It started with you asking how his morning was going. And it ended with you asking why he was such a prick.
It was a silent ride home.
You'd like to think you'd tried to find his good side in those beginning days but you soon began to question if such a thing even existed. Any time you were kind to him, he retaliated with anger. It brought out a certain type of frustration in you that you didn’t know was possible.
Within your time at the prison, you'd made yourself an esteemed part of the community. You used your [now useless] degree in agriculture to help build the gardens and begin the planting of any seeds you could find. Rick took a heavy trust in you and appointed you a seat on the prison council. And you'd shown your skills in scavenging, even when you had Daryl breathing down your neck.
It was difficult to pinpoint exactly when this whole charade started. Perhaps it had started in the nurse's office, in the courtyard, or on your first run together. But it did not matter where it began because there was one thing for sure, there seemed to be no end.
You both had a hold over another, in a way no one else did.
Daryl hated your confidence because he lacked his own. He hated that you were quick to go toe to toe with him. Because many others were too scared. He despised that you were so smart, a college graduate. And he especially hated when you spoke so highly of your father. Because he didn’t have a father to talk about at all.
But there was always a ting of something in all of his hate. Jealousy.
You hated his ego. You hated the fact that he contradicted everything you said. You hated when he called you names. Princess, he’d say or, miss college graduate. You hated that he never even tried to get to know you; to know that you weren’t this pretentious brat he painted you to be. Despite being with each other on a regular basis, there was a lacking of personal connection.
Neither of you truly knew the other. Where did he grow up? Has he ever broken any bones? What was his favorite candy as a child? When did he have his first drink?
Daryl pondered the same of you. Who taught you to braid your hair? You spoke of your father but never your mother, what happened to her? Why the dog tags? Have you ever loved another?
It was a day familiar to all the others. Your hot morning tea whirled about in your mug, your feet gliding gently around the grounds of the growing garden. After all your laborious hours in the Georgia heat, it was gratifying to see the various plants take bloom. Knowing there'd soon be a garden big enough to feed the community gave you satisfaction and perhaps a sliver of peace.
"You comin' or what?"
And there goes another blissful morning pissed down the drain.
Your long braid fell from your shoulder to your back when you looked at the disgruntled man. "We might need to find you a new mattress." You made your way to him, shoving your mug into his chest, "You can't ever seem to find a good side to wake up on." He scoffed, involuntarily taking your mug. The two of you, along with Michonne and Glenn, were set out on yet another run. Not one of great importance nor would it take that long of time but nonetheless it was still time spent around him.
Daryl followed behind you as you continued your way back to the prison, mug still in hand. "Michonne and Glenn are waitin' while yer staring at some fuckin' bushes." It was your turn to scoff, "They're not bushes. It's food. And a lot of fucking work."
Oh, Daryl knew how much work it had taken from you.
In the weeks he'd spent out in the gardens, his eyes worked more than his hands. He couldn't not look. You wore a tank top every day with the same black gardening gloves and dog tags dangling from your neck. The muscles in your biceps were always highlighted from the hours of digging. The blistering sun always had you drenched in sweat leaving your skin constantly glossy. Words couldn't describe the way he felt when it was dripping down your neck and into the crevice of your breast.
He was outraged for the entire three weeks.
"Whatever."
The mug in his hand became very apparent to him. "When the hell ya give me this?" He now strode beside you, approaching the car at the gates. You smiled to yourself, "A while ago."
Daryl would have preferred to ride his bike to avoid being trapped in such a confined space with you. But it was, “A waste of gas” as Rick would say.
You weren’t exactly sure what Daryl had done. But he had particularly did you in today. So greatly that you almost walked home. Glenn had to beg you to come back. Perhaps it was the way he glared at you that threw you over the edge. So cold and hostile. Or the way he stepped all over your feet, cutting you off mid-sentence, always thinking that he was right. You were simply always wrong.
This particular run would change the trajectory of your relationship forever.
You and Daryl had split in the strip mall, deciding to cover more ground separately. The strip was usually overrun with a hoard of walkers but as of late, they seemed to be diminishing one at a time. It had become clear enough to begin digging at the stores it held. Some random clothing stores, liquor shops, a CVS pharmacy, and dead restaurants.
You were rummaging about the pharmacy, most of it already picked through.
Examining the bottle of prenatal vitamins in your hand for Maggie, you heard footsteps. Thinking it was Daryl you spoke. "It's not like these expiration dates even matter anymore." Blind to your danger, you turned to face him.
Before you were given time to react to the two strange men, you were grabbed by the back of your neck, pulling at the nape of your hair, a blade held to the side of your throat. The bottle dropped from your hand, clattering to the floor. You grasped the man's arm attempting to keep the blade from your skin but you'd failed; cuts appeared on the delicate skin.
"Stay." The other man reached for your gun belt, unholstering your weapon and keeping it for himself. You kept your calm but your eyes widened with fear. "Scream and you'll die." The short man with the knife moved it away from your throat, his hand freeing your neck. The other man, who had taken your gun, now had it pointed at you.
It was loaded. You knew because you were the one who'd loaded it that very morning.
"Ya can't just come into the place we've worked so hard to clean up and start taking things...we need some form of payment."
"I have my bag." You offered hoping they would merely steal your things and go. Slowly, not taking your eyes off them, you moved your pack off your back. "There's food and ammo and other supplies." Your bag was snatched from your hands with haste. "Thank you." It wasn't genuine, just taunting.
"But that's not what we want." Their eyes looked at you more hungry than any walker. Once you realize what they meant, tears begin to blur your vision. You could feel them begin to come closer to you. Feeling helpless and too stunned to cry out for Daryl, you weren't sure if you should start fighting or begging.
Daryl heard your continuous screeches from down the way, dropping his bag of clothing. "Y/n!" His feet carried him to you swiftly. You cried his name shoving one man off of you from your pinned spot against the shelves. It was foolish of Daryl to begin shooting so wildly.
Luckily you moved to the floor in avoidance of the bullets, covering your head and blocking your ears.
You kept yourself crouched on the ground, deaf to what was happening around you. Until a hand grabbed your bicep and hoisted you from the ground, "Come on, we gotta go." For once you were relieved to see Daryl.
But you wouldn't be for long.
"We shouldn't have split up!" Daryl shouted. He was walking too fast for you to keep up, as he did at times. You trailed behind him stumbling your way over the branches and leaves in an attempt to make it back to the road with his bike. "You always got stupid fuckin' ideas!" Daryl's adrenaline was still pumping, too ignorant to think of you. He muttered to himself, “Course there was people, walkers don’t just clear out by themselves.”
He marched onto the blacktop.
"Ya talk big game just to not do nothing to help yourself." Daryl was angrily throwing the green brush off his bike, removing it from its hidden spot in the treeline. "Always talkin' 'bout yer daddy and what he did for ya." Daryl said this more to himself but it didn’t fail to reach your ears.
"Well, where was he now yuh?" Daryl turned around to face you, his chest heaving. Only to catch you in the midst of buttoning your pants. Guilt dreaded him.
You didn't care to hear his insults. And you had no desire to get on that bike and be so close to him right now.
"I.." Words couldn't find themselves in your mouth. All you could focus on was the way everything felt frozen yet moving at an intense speed at the same time. Daryl saw the way you struggled with yourself.
There was a twisting pain within your chest as your panic only grew. "Y/n." Daryl put his frustrations aside, the situation becoming clear to him now. He swallowed down his pride and reached a hand out to you. Before his fingertips could even graise the fabric of your shirt, you took a step back. "No." You spoke gently, looking out to the woods instead of to Daryl; all you could fathom now was the desire to escape.
"Y/n," Daryl repeated more soft, "We gotta go home."
"I don't want to." You turned back to him abruptly. He could see the tears irritating your eyes. Where your hands lay across your chest, you could feel your rapid heart.
"Why not?" Daryl couldn't understand why you wouldn't want to go home. It was safe, it was comfortable. Two things you desperately need right now.
"I can't, I…I can't get on the bike right now." Your frustration with yourself was growing.
Why couldn't you just get on the bike?
Why couldn't you breathe?
Why didn't you listen to Daryl and not split up?
Why was Daryl being so kind to you suddenly? Was it pity? You hated pity.
"Alright." Daryl watched the tears begin to roll down your cheeks. "We can walk, it's alright." There was no way of making it back to the prison on foot before sundown. Daryl knew this. But it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for you.
Daryl gripped the handles on his bike, walking the heavy machine down the road with you in tow. You were seemingly able to calm yourself down. The only thing remaining now was shame. You were embarrassed that Daryl had seen you so vulnerable. And you were even more embarrassed that he had to save you.
All the countless years felt wasted. All that time spent in the ring or on some thin gym mats. All those tireless nights where your father wouldn’t allow you to rest until you got one more. It was a phrase all too familiar.
You knew Daryl was annoyed having to walk, his huffs and buffs gave it away. The sun was beginning to set. "Daryl we can drive." You tried to persuade for the third time. "S'fine."
"Daryl, it's getting dark."
"S'fine!" He shouted back frustrated with the disappearing sun. You stopped in your tracks. "I know somewhere we can sleep."
You could hear the soft sounds of the water flowing down the river bed. The moon allowed a glow onto the water, gleaming with the current. Crickets and cicadas chirped in the night air like music to your ears. Despite the struggles of being in the wilderness alone, nights like this made you miss it.
"What ya doin' over there?" Daryl asked sitting a few feet behind you at the fire. "Nothing."
You pushed yourself from the ground, making your way back to him. Daryl bitterly smoked his cigarette. You didn't need to ask to know why he was so irritated, you could already imagine. Perhaps catching the fish for dinner was what did it. Or the hundreds of pounds of metal he walked for miles. Or maybe he actually was mad about having to save you. Or the simple fact that he was stuck out here with you.
You couldn't pick one.
No words were spoken, just the sounds of the wilderness and the crackling of the fire. It allowed you to think.
You began to wonder if you'd ever actually hated him. Because how could you hate someone you'd grown such an attachment to? How could you hate the person you screamed out for in your time of need? There were countless days where he'd anger you so much you thought you might actually strangle him. But somehow you always went right back. You always met him at the gates or stumbled upon him at breakfast.
Staring off into the fire you began to accept that you all along had been trying [and presumably failing] to win him over. "You okay?" Your eyes looked from the fire to him. His cigarette no longer present, "M'fine." You replied.
Daryl would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about you. Just because he didn't care for you at times, didn't mean he doesn't care about you. "It happened a couple times out on the road. I could handle it then...I just..." You shifted where you sat, "Got surprised today was all." To hear this wasn't the first time but a time of many, gutted Daryl.
You had become more afraid of encountering a man than a walker.
Daryl was never angry with you. He was more angry with himself, unable to protect you from finding yourself in such a situation.
"Wasn't yer fault. M'sorry." Shockingly, Daryl's guilt overshined his ego.
You let out a deep sigh looking back out towards the water. You knew his apology was sincere but you couldn't find the courage to acknowledge it. "I was just thinking about how I miss it out here sometimes. The sounds, the views, the peace."
Your confidence and sharp tongue did not seem present at this moment. Looking back to him, he seemed completely entranced by this newfound gentle side of you. "But that's only one percent of it, isn't it?" Daryl never took his eyes off yours, the fire casting an orange glow within them. "Yeah."
The other ninety - nine percent was the actual survival. All the bloody fights. The permanent anxiety. The sleepless nights due to fear. The painful emptiness of your stomach. The constant blisters on your ankles [that never healed] from running or walking. And the unbearable hopelessness.
"Were ya always alone?" Daryl had always been curious. You shook your head, "No." He nodded his head and looked away, leaving it at that. He had no desire to make your night even more miserable by talking about the ones you'd lost.
"It was just me and my brother for awhile."
"Meryl?"
Daryl furrowed his eyebrows knowing he'd never mentioned him before.
"Maggie's talked about him briefly."
"All nice things?" Daryl asked sarcastically.
"Not really." Your attempt to stifle your laugh was a failure, the smile lingering. But this did not anger Daryl the way you thought it would. Instead, he had his own small smile, scoffing and shaking his head. "He wasn't the best at times...but he was my brother ya know?"
You nodded muttering a, yeah.
Daryl flicked the butt of his cigarette into the dying fire. Knowing this was the first and potentially last time you'd ever speak to another so tenderly again, you continued.
"I was an only child. My mom died in childbirth when I was eight…so I never got siblings."
"M'sorry."
"Don't." You didn't say it to be cruel. You grew up hearing sympathy after sympathy, you did not need anymore. "I was never alone though. I had my Dad. And my aunt and uncles helped take care of me so I was surrounded by my cousins all the time...I guess I did have siblings in a way." A nauseating wave of nostalgia rose in your throat, silencing you for a mere second.
"My mom died when I was young too. 'Cept my Dad was just some drunk asshole, didn't care 'bout nobody but himself." Daryl couldn't deny his slight envy towards you. You grew up with a father who cared for you and your safety. It made him wonder how you'd ended up alone in the end.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't need yer apologies Y/n."
"I know."
The fire was no more. Only red hot embers burning on the rocky gravel. And it made you think that perhaps it was symbolic that the fire was slowly diminishing as your conversation grew more gentle.
A few minutes of silence had passed before either of you spoke again. "Look at us, talking to each other, treating each other like human beings for once." You joked with a laugh in an effort to replace the depressing mood.
You actually heard Daryl chuckle even though he lowered his head in an attempt to hide it. His eyes glanced at you, your own cheeky smile dimpling your cheeks. If this is what having a personal connection with Daryl was, it was dangerous.
Why did it take so long?
Was what you wanted to scream at him.
I could've loved you if you'd just given me a chance.
"Maybe we have more in common than we ever allowed."
Daryl broke eye contact with you, staring down at the glowing embers, chewing on his bottom lip. And he did the only thing he ever learned how to do when he felt something. "Night Y/n."
You didn't know why you expected anything different.
"Goodnight Daryl."
Daryl took his vest off, rolling it up and using it as a makeshift pillow. He turned away from you, his back tauntling in your face.
You stayed up a little while after, too overwhelmed by thoughts to rest. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl could not rest either. In fact, he did not sleep that entire night, only allowing himself ten-minute naps here and there. The only sense of relaxation he felt was when he'd check over his shoulder and see you in blissful sleep. As if nothing and no one had ever touched you.
When Rick asked what'd happened, Daryl lied. Saying you'd been outrun by a hoard and had to crash somewhere safe for the night. The days continued on, and what happened that day was not spoken of again. But there had come an understanding that Daryl and you were indeed, more in-common than ever allowed.
Patrick approached Daryl and you at breakfast as you mapped the run for the next morning. "H-hi!" Patrick greeted sheepishly, giving a small wave to the table. Maggie and Glenn greeted him first. Then you, pulling your attention away from the map on the table to him; giving a polite smile and nod. "Hey Patrick, everything okay?" Rick asked from where he sat beside Daryl. "Yeah..." Patrick was nervous on his feet, awkwardly pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. "I wanted to ask Daryl and Y/n if I could join them out there?"
There was suddenly a stiffness in the air. Glances were exchanged between the lot of you. "Patrick I-" Rick scratched his beard awkwardly, finding a response for the boy. Patricks's confidence plummeted. He had spent hours building up the courage to ask, only to be met with stiff glances.
"How old are you Patrick?" It was an odd question for you to ask but it did not come without reason. "Uhmm fifteen."
You rose from your seat making your way over to him as gently as your feet would allow. Come, you spoke gently reaching an arm out to him.
Patrick began to walk with you.
"I was younger than you when my father began to enroll me in fighting classes…a short time after my mother died.”
Pausing your words, you continued your stroll until you stopped just before hitting the grass. "He told me that you could never be too young to be prepared for what the world was to through at you...What does that mean to a little girl who only wanted to play with her Barbies?"
Patrick listened to you intentively, entranced by the way you spoke.
Looking out to the green gardens, you seemed lost in thought for a second. "I don't think your question is outrageous. I just don't think you're prepared." Patrick seemed to understand this answer more, nodding his head.
You knew the day would come when the prison folk grew tired of looking at the same walls and more curious about the world beyond. Especially the children. You'd seen the group of kids over by the fences, close enough to look at the walkers but far enough away for safety. It was often that they were scolded by the adults.
"I know I’m not a fighter. I’m not like you or Daryl or even Carl. But I just wanna…” Patrick paused, “be brave for once.”
You couldn't help but smile at the innocence of the boy.
"You can't go out there knowing nothing Patrick." He had finally begun to accept defeat but the long face and disappointed eyes tugged at your sympathy.
"I can teach you. Just as my father taught me." Patrick's eyes lit up with hope. "Th-thank you Y/n." He gleamed with excitement, reaching a hand out to shake yours. You were truly at a loss of words with no choice but to shake it in return.
You'd spent day after day out in the field with Patrick. You taught him how to block blows, how to hold and use daggers, and much more. He was skittish and shaky most days but he was trying. In place of your days with Patrick, you were skipping your usual days with Daryl. You truly hadn't thought he'd mind much. If anything, you assumed he'd be happy to finally have a break from you.
"I feel like this wouldn't hurt that bad." Patrick commented. Carl was punching the book Patrick held, having begun to invite himself to the practices. Thick index books were the closest thing you'd find to a punching bag. You chuckled, "It hurts more than you'd expect."
Daryl approached the three of you. You could hear his footsteps. You’d recognize them even in the dead of night. They were gentler than normal as if he wished to not disturb. "It hurts more if you have rings on." Patrick looked at you curiously, "Did you used to wear rings Y/n?" You nodded happily. "All the time.”
You turned to finally face Daryl. "Hey." You greeted, taking the last few steps to meet him. "Hi." Daryl looked about, chewing on his bottom lip. "You ain't been showing up for runs." It almost, almost, sounded as if this upset him. "I've been here," you motioned to the young boys, "You know that."
Daryl nodded.
Of course he knew. He saw you every day, always wanting to come over and join but never allowing himself to.
"You really serious 'bout all this?" Daryl nudged his head to Patrick and Carl. You let out a deep sigh. You asked yourself the same question. Was this serious? Did you really plan on taking a kid outside the gates? There was a chance this was all for nothing at all. But what you did know was that it kept your mind at peace and your days busy.
"I don't know. I thought we could at least take him down to the river. It's nice down there, it's not far, would get him outta here for a few hours."
The river.
"Alright."
"Alright."
You sat alone at dinner that night, needing quiet time after hanging out with teenage boys for the majority of your day. You poked about your rice and veggies, still working on the copy of Little Women. "Hey." Daryl greeted. The day was growing late, the sun beginning to disappear from beneath the trees; he'd presumably just gotten back.
"Hi." You looked from your page, secretly happy he was giving you an excuse to put it down. Daryl's eyes looked anywhere but your own. "I-uh...got something for ya." Daryl dug into his front pocket, grabbing the handful of metal. He placed the rings on the table, making their own clattering noise together as they fell.
You seemed bewildered at this. "What...uh." Daryl chewed nervously on his thumb. He'd searched through this town and the next to find them for you, rummaging through old antique stores and dusty jewelry boxes. Picking out the ones he thought you’d like; which could mean nothing at all. “You didn't have to."
"S'fine." You nodded, the smile finally creeping it’s way to your features. "Thank you, Daryl." You were flattered. Flattered to think that for once, he'd actually listened to you. "Do you wanna go get dinner and come sit?" You offered.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
A certain closeness was growing. The arguments slowly became banter. And the war of dominance diminished. You began to work together as partners, mapping runs and brainstorming improvements for the prison. Instead of using your skills against each other, you’d began to find the perfect balance between.
Daryl joined you most days with Patrick. He found that he had no desire to go beyond the gates unless you were in tow.
There were moments when sheer frustration retook hold of you. But never did it reach the lengths as before. It came with reason, with a pleading, instead of merely arguing of who was right and who was wrong.
You turned the rings on your fingers about as you walked to the dining area outside. Daryl was a ways away, smoking his morning cigarette. “Morning.” You greeted, crossing your arms and taking your spot beside him. “Morning.”
The end of summer was near, mornings were chillier than usual but days still hot from the sun. There was a curtain of peace over this particular morning. The smell of Daryl’s cigarette filled your nose along with the morning dew. His presence comforted you. “I think it was around this time last year when you guys picked me up.”
Daryl blew the smoke from his lips, “Yeah, biggest mistake ever.” He joked. This earned a laugh from you. Daryl watched the joy on your face; it scrunched your eyes and accentuated the apples of your cheeks. “Yeah, I bet.”
He couldn’t take his eyes from you and a heaviness weighed within his chest. Because he knew, just as you did, that it was not only friendship lingering. It was more.
“I think I’m gonna go out, make sure the path to the river is clear.” Daryl knew what this insinuated. “We’re taking him out today?” Daryl had begun to hope that all of your time with Patrick was nothing, that it was merely something to fill up the days. “It feels like a peaceful day…” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice. “Besides, Patrick’s not been feeling good, I doubt he’ll even want to go. It’s the effort that means something to him.”
Hmm, Daryl hummed. You nudged your elbow into him, “Keep an eye on him for me, okay?” Daryl hummed in response again. “D…” You nudged him again as if needing a more reassuring answer for your verbal contract. The nickname perked his ears and heated his cheeks. Looking to you, he nodded.
You gave him a thankful smile. “Be safe!” Daryl shouted to you as you began on your way.
Arriving back to the prison you could feel within your gut that something was wrong. The sympathetic eyes that Michonne greeted you with solidified this.
Daryl recognized your footsteps entering the cell block.
“What's happened?" Daryl rushed to stand in front of you, blocking your path. It was eerily silent. “Come on.” Daryl placed his hands on your shoulders trying to turn you away. You shoved his hands from you, slipping past him.
"Y/n.” Daryl could not stop you from continuing on. Your expression was stuck in a state of confusion and shock as your feet guided about the chaotic cell block. It smelled of metallic blood and bitterly sour. Almost as though you'd stuck your nose in a gaping infected wound. When you'd turned your head to glance into a cell, you saw him.
Patrick lay still on the ground, an arrow lodged in his skull. An airy gasp left you, clutching your hands to your chest. It was as if you couldn't take your eyes away. Your eyes still not yet communicating to your brain what you were looking at. But when it did, the only thing you could seem to focus on was the arrow. An arrow.
Daryl watched the realization settle on your features when you turned to him. For once, Daryl felt a sense of fear. And it only worsened when you began towards him.
It was as quick as a breath. You unsheathed the dagger on your hip and aimed it at him.
"Y/n no!"
Daryl caught your wrists, the blade mere inches from his right eye. Though he stopped the blade, your brute force did not stop him from being shoved into the closest wall.
"I told you to look out for him!" You yelled through your glassy eyes.
He had no words for you, pure guilt blocking any defense or insult.
"I had to." You scoffed at this, "I can't trust you to do anything."
"Y/n it's not his fault. It was an accident." Rick reasoned with you.
With his back pressed against the wall, he had fully submitted himself to your wrath. His guilt would let you kill him now if you'd like. His hands around your wrist did not hurt nor squeeze to withhold your strength, they began to merely rest there.
Your rapid breathing began to slow to deep inhales and exhales, ones that moved your entire chest. Your eyes remained steady on his, the world drowning out around you.
While his eyes showed remorse, yours burned with anger; eyebrows furrowed, hot tears slipping down your cheeks.
With one forceful shove, you ripped your arms from Daryl's grasp, his back bumping the cement wall. The dagger made a clattering noise to the floor, having been lost from your grasp in the process. You stood there for a moment looking to Daryl as if waiting for something.
"M'sorry."
His apology only seemed to anger you, your face once again turning hateful. You took a few steps back before making your exit.
When time came to take care of the ones lost, you helped dig their graves; in defiance of everyone telling you not to. Your hands covered in splinters from the blistering wood of the shovel’s handle. The once thriving and growing prison become melancholy, a heavy cloud of sorrow always above.
You and Daryl had not spoken for days. You'd ditched any planned runs that had been scheduled. But without fail, Daryl waited every morning for you, on the off chance you'd join him again. And when you never did, he kept an eye on you from afar.
You had become quiet and distant. He seemed to only find you chatting with Maggie or Glenn and on the off chance, Rick. You were on fence duty every day presumably taking out every bit of anger on those poor dead bastards.
You'd been out there day after day, nothing but water in your system, running off of pure spite and grief. You'd be out there till your adrenaline wore off and your body gave up on itself from exhaustion. If Daryl wasn't mistaken he had spotted you crying on some days; but that bloody pipe never left your hands.
You had begun to wake up earlier than Daryl, always managing to slip away from him just in time. You ignored him at every meal and walked by him as if he was a ghost.
Daryl couldn't deny the itch of missing you. He longed for you to look at him again, to smile at him and call him names. He began to even miss when you yelled at him, as cruel and loud as you could be.
Daryl couldn't continue on like this. You were torturing him.
He had awoken particularly early this day, ensuring he was in the kitchen long before you; knowing you never skipped your morning tea.
Exhaustion was all you could feel. Your body raged against your decisions every day. Your arms were sore, hands red and raw from gripping the damn pipe so hard. But you could not allow yourself to be around him. You couldn't stand to be trapped in those cells, indulged with pity.
Wrapping the strap of the fingerless gloves around your wrist, you wandered into the kitchen. Glancing up, you saw him, stopping your steps. The kitchen was dark on this early morning, the sun not yet fully risen.
Every thought Daryl had vanished from his mind. Every speech he'd rehearsed or apology left him in an instant. He hadn't known seeing you face to face, alone, would leave him so breathless. Daryl could see your exhaustion even in the dim light. Your usually neat braid had been done in haste, it was sloppy and hairs fell messily into your face. The constant emotional distress dragged on your features.
"I had to see ya."
You crossed your arms over your chest, closing yourself off from him. "So you just waited for me here." Your tone was venom to him. Daryl swallowed sharply, second-guessing his actions. "Ya get yer tea every mornin'." It would be flattering to think he'd memorized your everyday routine if it was any other time. But you couldn't find that now.
"Was gonna go out..."
He wasn't. Daryl would only go if you were in tow.
You scoffed at him. Had he truly gone through all this effort just to ask you to join him on a sleazy run?
Your attitude hurt Daryl more than he'd like to admit. "Just wanted to see if ya wanted to come with me?"
You knew why he actually was here. Scratching the skin on your arm nervously, you said, "No Daryl."
“Why the hell not?” Your mouth dropped agape. Astonished at his mere audacity. “Why not?” You repeated back. Daryl looked at you blankly. Should he apologize? Or should he begin his stubbornness rant about all the ways it wasn't his fault? You shook your head, "You're pathetic."
The fire was lit once again.
You'd insulted his ego and his efforts to meet you here. But most of all, you'd insulted any feelings he'd developed for you.
Daryl's face switched from hurt to a hateful glare in a second. You didn’t care to continue on with him, turning and disappearing into the hallway. Daryl’s anger took hold of him as he rushed after you. “M’pathetic?” He followed after you, stomping like a child.
You ignored him, continuing on, letting the door slam in his face when you exited outside. Daryl following suit in your path did not falter. Carol and Rick turned their attention to the commotion.
Daryl and you spewed insults at each other. You'd reached down in yourself, past the grief and guilt, and pulled any degrading thing you could manage to say to him. And he did the same. No words you said could possibly cut him as deeply as his actions cut you.
"I shoulda left ya out there!"
"Yeah I wish you fucking would've..." You took a step closer to him. "But you couldn't because you fucking needed me."
"I don't need you."
"You fucking need me." You repeated.
"Yeah? Then you need me!"
"I don't fucking need you! I never needed you."
Daryl lowered his tone, narrowing his eyes. He was mere inches from your face, your foreheads almost touching. “Ya didn't need me out there, hm?" He watched your furrowed eyebrows falter. Daryl knew he was crossing a line but couldn't find it in his heart to stop. "Where was yer daddy that day, yuh?"
Your glassy eyes looked up at him attempting to form your own degrading insult. "What? Say it, come on say it Y/n." He egged you on.
You only think about yourself, just like your father.
But you refrained, swallowing your words along with your tears. "Fuck you." Daryl watched you walk away, wiping at your face. "Fuck you!" Regret dreaded him. He watched as you continued on, your body shaking from a mixture of adrenaline and tears. He could have run after you then, apologies spewing from his mouth but his stubbornness kept him still.
The prison fell that same day.
Amid chaos and destruction, Daryl could only find himself to look for you. And when he finally accepted defeat, he could only pray that you'd made it out.
You had fled on your own. Fighting your way through to return to the comfort of the wilderness. After a few strenuous days on your own again, you'd found Carol and Tyreese; joining them with the girls. The blisters on your feet had returned as did the heaviness deep in your chest.
You thought about him more than you'd like to admit. And Carol did her part in reminding you of him on the daily. You'd begun to dwell on how you'd treated him in those final days. You’d denied yourself the comfort of his company. You urned for him to be gentle to you once again. To speak to you so deeply and sincerely as he had before. To comfort you amidst your grief. All the draining nights of crying yourself to dehydration, you desired for him to be there.
You’d never been hugged by Daryl but in your mind, his touch would’ve healed a thousand gaping wounds.
"I regret it deeply now." You'd say to Carol.
"I'm sure he feels the same." She'd respond.
A longing for your life to return as it was among those prison walls struck you down every hour of every day. The wish to go back to that morning and accept his offer. To take his hand and go beyond the walls. Maybe one more day together would’ve fixed everything. And you wouldn’t be left with the guilt of leaving things off on a bad note; never to see him again.
The smoke rose above the tree line, only making you more anxious. With Tyreese and Judith safely at the cabin, [or so you thought], you kept guard at the road. Keeping an eye for anyone making an escape.
Kill them if they weren’t one of us. Carol instructed.
But the sound of gunfire made you unsure of anyone’s survival. Fuck, you muttered to yourself out of frustration. You glanced constantly down the road and amongst the trees, hoping for a familiar face.
You turned your last surviving ring anxiously about your finger. A rustle in the woods grabbed your attention. You gripped your gun closely in your hands, stepping towards the tree line. When it was deemed clear, you continued on, your boots crunching on the leaves.
Your ears perked at a sudden snap of a twig. Whipping your body around, you pointed your gun.
Daryl aimed his bow to you, the tip of your weapons mere inches from the other. Your breath caught in your throat. His eyes were tired, his face bruised. But you couldn't say you looked any better.
Both your fingers lingered over your triggers, though neither of you would shoot. Daryl lowered his bow. Looking at you with teary eyes. You lowered your own weapon, looking to him with the same unsure gaze. There seemed to be a mutual understanding that neither of you had the energy to fight. Daryl wanted to reach out to you but the looming fear of rejection didn’t allow him. "Y/n?" Maggie snapped you from your daze. “Maggie?” You rushed to embrace her, discarding Daryl.
The weeks spent on the road proved to be difficult. Everyone grew more hopeless by the day and this hopelessness only grew when it became loss after loss. There was no time to heal from one loss before having to mourn another. First Bob, then Tyreese, and then Beth. You’d glued yourself to Maggie after Beth just as she did for you after Patrick.
Daryl mourned Beth in private. You wanted to be there for him, to provide him a shoulder to cry on. But he’d shut you out, just as you’d done to him. And besides, you never even tried, too focused on Maggie to consider it more than a thought.
You and Daryl had become strangers once again. There was no room for forgiveness, no time to spew apologies to each other, and no space to coddle each other through the pain.
Alexandria came to the suffering group, shining a new light of hope and a more secure future.
But this meant you could not hide from him anymore nor him you. The known could no longer be left unspoken.
You’d slipped away from the main house to the house next door that belonged to the group but was yet to be used. Daryl was first to notice your absence, asking where you’d gone so late. When he was told, the urge to follow after arose.
The front door was left unlocked, allowing Daryl entry. “Y/n?” The house was dimly lit, an amber glow looming from across the room. Daryl saw your figure sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. A liquor bottle sat atop the coffee table reading, Honey Whiskey, along with an empty glass seemingly for him. The other was in your hand, resting on your thigh. He couldn't help but think how perfectly you the liquor was; bitter yet soothing and sweet.
Daryl didn't know what told him to sit beside you but he did not resist the urge.
Nothing was said, the both of you staring off into the gas-lit flames. Your eyes studied the fake logs that were engulfed by flames, comparing it to how real wood burns. Daryl craved for you to speak to him. He didn't care if it was hurtful. Any words, cruel or no, were better than this silence. "Y/n..."
"I forgive you." Daryl went still. You hadn't given him time to breathe.
"What?"
Just then you turned, your freshly cleaned hair falling over your shoulder. The fire cast a glow on your features; highlighting the bridge of your nose and emoting a sparkle within your eyes.
“I said I forgive you.” It was the gentlest tone you’d ever spoken to him in, almost a whisper.
“I don’t think I had reason to be angry in the first place. I was just trying to blame someone that wasn’t myself.” You reached forward, popping the cap from the bottle and pouring Daryl a glass. You handed it to him, along with a slight smile. It tugged at his heart.
“M’sorry…bout what I said that day. 'Bout your Dad...Wasn’t right.” Daryl swirled the liquor about his glass, wondering where you’d found it. You took a deep breath before speaking on, “My daddy disowned me.”
The dog tags around your neck suddenly felt as though they weighed fifty pounds. It was a burden you carried around your neck every day, hoping the weight would be lifted lighter if you just spoke highly. "Why?" Daryl couldn't help but ask. You hesitated, your mouth gaping but no words following. "Because I loved a woman." You flashed Daryl an insecure smile, unsure of how he'd react. "I lost her about a month before you guys picked me up. That's why I was alone."
Daryl felt a whirlwind of emotions hit him at once.
How many times had he thrown your father in your face like some jealous brat?
“I think I resented ya a lot. Thinking ya had a father that rolled out the red carpet for you." Daryl had found his own courage in a now empty cup. You took note of this, pouring more for him. "I know, D."
"M'sorry."
"I know that too."
After that, a soft silence fills the room. The two of you sit peacefully, content with the weight slowly lifting from the shoulders of your friendship. But there was another topic to relive before you could truly sweep up all of the choked-off fragments and furnish them with conclusions.
“Patrick uh…”
“Ya don’t gotta talk about that Y/n.”
“No, I need to.”
The liquor wasn’t persuading you to talk nor to act a certain way, you’d barely drank any.
A deep sigh left you and you rested your back against the couch. “Patrick talked about his parents a lot. He said that his mom wanted him to be brave…That’s why he wanted to go out, he said that he felt like a coward. He’d always been safe in Woodbury then the prison.” Your words were quick and shaken.
Daryl listened attentively, taking sips of the whiskey in hopes it would calm his mind. “He thought that if he went out, even once, he would be brave… like us.” You motioned to you and Daryl. A smile rose on your face. “He also just really wanted to impress you, he was so excited when you started joining us in the mornings.” You took a sip from your own cup finding strength in the liquid.
“I know you always thought it was silly but…Patrick reminded me a lot of my cousin. He was my best friend until my aunt moved to a different state. I promised to keep in touch but I started college, got distracted, and only saw him on holidays.”
Your words trailed as if unsure of what was to be said.
“Until he jumped off a fucking overpass.” You could feel Daryl’s sympathetic eyes looking at you. “In his note, he said he knew he was a coward but he couldn’t be here anymore.” Your lip began to quiver but you quickly covered it with a swig of liquor. Daryl was left to think while you choked your tears down.
"They were brave." Daryl said in hopes it would relieve some of your guilt.
You placed your glass on the table beside the couch. "And dead they are." The tears could no longer be drowned in whiskey. You covered your face with your hands. Your body trembled violently, sobs racking your chest. Daryl put down his own glass. “C’mere…c’mere please.”
Daryl scooted closer to you, grasping for you to meet him halfway. You met him gladly.
You gripped your arms around him tighter, resting your head on his shoulder. A deep sigh of relief left both of you, melting into the other's embrace. “You’ve never hugged me before." You commented with sadness, your words mumbling against the fabric of his shirt; now wet with tears. "I know. M’sorry.” He could hold you all night if need be, to make up for all the nights he hadn’t.
He smelled of pine from the soap he'd used to wash. But the familiar scent of motor oil and cigarette smoke could never be washed from his skin. At first, it annoyed you. You'd complain that the oil gave you headaches and scold him about his unhealthy habit. But now, no four walls of any house could provide you the safety and comfort of Daryl's broad figure.
You pulled away from him but your hands did not leave him. They dragged down from his back to rest comfortably in his own. Your soft skin caressed his calloused hands. Your forehead rested against his. He did not remove himself from you but merely looked down, avoiding your gaze. "Ya been drinking a lot Y/n, ain't in the right mindset right now." You shook your head, "No Daryl...”
Your nose bumped his own as you scooped your head down, capturing his lips in yours. You taste of the bitterly sweet liquor, your lips still slightly damp from the tears that fell only moments ago. He resists before giving in to his longest desires. It made his nerves feel fuzzy. “I love you.” Your words mumbled against his lips.
The kiss turned from gentle to desirable in time, lips moving in sync together. His hands moved to either side of your face, ensuring to keep you close. You began to lay back, hoping Daryl would follow. He was quick too, ensuring his body weight did not crush you.
Needing a moment to breathe, you parted from him. Your back relaxed against the plush couch all your tense muscles turning to putty beneath him. Daryl's head fell to your chest. He felt your own heartbeat, just as quick as his own. "Love ya too."
Daryl's hands freely wondered you. He gripped your thighs, feeling the jagged scar on your thigh through the thin pajama pants; remembering the day you met. "I fell down a hill." Daryl stopped his lingering hands, "What?" There was a ting of a smile on your face. His eyes sparkled with admiration. "I was fighting a walker and I fell downhill. I think I got stabbed by a tree branch or my own knife, I never knew." You admitted shamefully. Daryl dropped his head to your chest again, chuckling.
His laughter sent vibrations through you, triggering a laugh of your own. You bring your hand to the back of his head, stroking his messy brown hair. “Why don’t you stay here with me tonight?” Daryl lifted his head, the fire dimly lighting the right side of his face. He nodded.
"I'd like that."
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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
#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x fem!reader#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x you#carl grimes smut#carl grimes fluff#carl grimes oneshot#carl grimes imagine#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes#twd x y/n#twd x you#twd x reader#twd oneshot#twd fluff#twd smut#twd imagine#twd fic#twd fanfiction#twd carl
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“wouldn’t kill ya’ to smile, wouldn’t it, baby?”
your gaze goes upward from the fire you’re building to the man standing before you.
“fuck is there to smile about?” you quip quietly, pursing your lips and turning your attention back to the task at hand.
you should’ve known that would set off your ex boyfriend. the boyfriend who should really be your ex right now. you feel him behind you and eventually in front of you when he leans down to gently grasp your face. shane tilts your chin upwards in his hand while you simply glare.
“been gettin’ real tired of your attitude.”
“makes two of us.”
something in his eyes clouds and you can nearly see the frustration bubbling beneath his surface. “you know you could really have it worse somewhere else, girl.” he lets go of your chin. “you should be happy to be here and not out there alone.”
you can’t argue with him. after these past few weeks, you’d endure whatever macho act he manufactured just to make it to safety. anything at this point to get to richmond. wherever noah’s family was posted up had to be better than cannibal country or cop city.
playing the role of shane’s personal diplomat is exhausting but it’s kept conflict from escalating more than once. without you, he would’ve for sure gotten himself killed by now. it goes both ways as you can count on more than one hand the number of times he’s saved your life.
“we had a home. we’re gonna find a new one. until then you better be thankful to have someone looking out for you.” the man explains to you. “someone takin’ care of you.”
you snort. “you should be happy i let you fuck me.”
your boyfriend’s nostrils flare. “wanna repeat that?”
you don’t spare him a glance. “be happy i haven’t left you already. if it wasn’t the fucking end of times, our relationship would be toast.” you say that like it isn’t already.
but you didn’t leave him. how could you with the world falling apart around you?
and with your newfound sense of responsibility to lori and carl, staying with shane made the most sense. why not keep trying with someone who held you at night and fought tooth and nail to protect you.
that isn’t everything though.
he narrows his eyes at you. “wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t always findin’ one.”
“you fucking lori was a problem that i found?”
he throws his hands up. “why the fuck do you keep mentionin’ lori? that’s fucked,” he scolds your name. “that’s my daughter’s mother.”
“i’m not blaming her, i’m blaming you.” you discern. “you’ve been an asshole ever since everything happened.”
“c’mere.” shane pulls you to your feet and drags you away from the fire, leaving the task to sasha who’d been sitting nearby. shane has you on your feet and moving towards the back of the rest stop your group was posted up l in. “let’s take a walk.”
“shane! i’m about to make dinner over the fire,” you complain and pull back your arm but shane just wraps you in his embrace and wills you towards the grassy picnic area facing the forest.
“c’mon, one step at a time, baby. don’t make me carry you.”
“fucker.”
“watch it,” shane warns and steers you towards a dusty wooden gazebo where rick is standing with a radio, trying to get a signal from the looks of it.
“any luck?” shane calls out like he didn’t just forcibly walk you from the fire circle out here.
the bearded man turns around. he doesn’t have to shake his head or give you two a word to answer his friend’s question. an icy blue stare goes over you and shane.
“what’s going on?”
“oh, we just thought we’d see what you were up to. see if you were busy.” the ex-cop with his arms wrapped around you from behind declares.
rick drops his radio into his back pocket. “‘m not.”
“perfect. this one wants to thank you.”
rick’s dark brow goes up in question and you shake your head, asking, “huh?”
“what? you don’t wanna thank rick? don’t be rude, baby.”
you owe the man your life a million times over.
rick had saved you, shane, judith, carl, and the others so many times. he’d led you through the debilitating winters and the most nightmare inducing storms you could imagine facing in the end of times. metaphorical or not, rick had seen you all through more than you’d ever pay him back for.
the man who stayed up with you while you settled judith and helped you soothe the little girl who didn’t belong to either of you.
the rugged man looks on from shane to you not quite comprehending. it only takes the feel of shane’s hand on your ass to understand.
fuck. not now, shane, you plead internally.
“i want you to show our friend rick how grateful you are that he’s gotten us this far. huh?” shane places a steel hand on your back as he shoves you forward towards rick, nudging you onto your knees when you’re dawdling too much for him to tolerate. “go on.”
“shane.” the man above you warns.
“no, rick.” your boyfriend stops him, dark irises widening. “i see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. don’t feel bad about it.” he chuckles. “think about it as payback for lori.”
a “what the fuck” is breaching your lips before you know it.
“why do you talk to her like that?” rick questions, chest puffing out slightly. “everything she’s stood you through.”
shane shrugs. “i’m just thinkin’ it’d help us all relax. lower tension, y’know. after we were almost slaughtered like cattle back there.”
your mind flashes to terminus. you hadn’t seen rick, shane, and some of the other men of your group tied up and prepared to have their throats slashed, but the scene made your stomach flip.
rick looks down at you, maybe considering the fact that he does have a lot of steam to let off. nearly a year’s worth to be honest.
“you been thinkin’ about me?” he inquires with a step closer to you, dipping his hand to cup your face.
beneath your leader, you feel small. ten feet tall, you’d feel insignificant compared to rick. that man has more guts and drive than you could ever admit to. more than shane could ever dream of. the thought scratches an itch you didn’t realize lay dormant.
“yes,” you exhale sweetly, almost giving away your giggle when shane has to pick up his jaw. “especially ever since the prison fell.”
“really?”
you nod. “thank you, rick.” you express your gratitude with parted lips. “you take such good care of all of us. if you really want to use my mouth, i would blow you.”
shane is stuttering a curse and rick just whistles.
“good girl,” shane praises. “never knew you had it in you.”
you wait on your knees for rick, beaming up at him.
rick has the look of a man considering letting his best friend’s girlfriend - who he has at least fifteen years on - blow him. he thumbs your soft lips, trying to convince himself not to. even under that newly acquired hardened exterior, rick is calculated.
it’s not until he lowers his hands at his sides and croons a, “only if you want to, darlin,” that has you undoing his belt and yanking down his pants.
you slow your roll once you come into contact with his underwear. beneath those dark blue boxers is a rock hard cock.
a noise escapes you that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t hear. rick is bigger than shane. you want to burst into laughter. shane had to have seen the outline of rick’s thick cock sometime during their years together in some locker room somewhere.
thoughts of if he’ll fit or not consume you momentarily until your hands are moving automatically and you’re met with the real thing. you feel hands in your hair and tense.
“down and up. you know how to do it.”
shane is behind you with his sturdy hands on top of your head, ready to guide you down onto his friend.
“just let her do what she wants.” rick snaps at the other man, exhaling at the feel of your hand around him.
“fine.” shane throws his hands up and goes to lean against the rest stop information board.
ever the sore loser, shane pouts but lets you sink further on your knees to begin by trailing a stripe from rick’s balls up to the tip of his cock. back down you go again to lick circles around him, working a pattern with your tongue.
the noises coming out of rick have you agreeing with shane - he really needs this. after everything, rick deserves to close his eyes and let you descend below his shaft to suckle first one side, then the other, while he lays his hands in your lustrous hair.
eventually you’re lapping around again and you circle your tongue around him, eyes widening in surprise at his moans.
shane snickers. “you like her mouth, rick? me too. don’t blow your load too early, bud, i know you probably can’t help it.”
you feel the man in your mouth tense above you. he ignores shane, snapping his hips lightly into your face instead. despite the initial humiliation of the situation and the shane of it all, you find yourself getting excited. a wet patch forms and you can tell by how hard you grind down onto yourself as rick starts to twitch.
“needy slut,” shane comments.
you roll your eyes, not missing a beat as you bob up and down on your leader. his spit covered dick disappears in and out of your mouth. you do your best to fit what you can of his length that is too large for your mouth.
rick doesn’t have a problem though. all he needs is to dig a little deeper in your hair and angle his cock down your throat. you’re so startled you gag but at the same time you moan and whimper around him.
a cry around him from a particularly harsh jostle of his pelvis against your face is what it takes to start spilling in your mouth. your foggy brain can barely decipher what to do next but you remember that you’re wearing one of your favorite sweaters and suck him dry.
rick isn’t out of your mouth when shane is nearly shoving him out of the way and grasping onto you, directing your head towards his now nude dick.
“my turn,” shane takes rick’s spot instantly, not sparing you more than a breath or two before his girthy cock is against your lips.
“that’s not good for her knees, man.” rick is saying but shane just laughs.
“you weren’t sayin’ that when you were in the one in her mouth.”
shane is taking up your mouth before you know it and you gag immediately when he drives like he’s aiming for your uvula.
your noises muffle around his cock but the sheriff looking on still hears them - is still affected by then. every pump of his fellow ex-officer’s hips made you gag, forced to swallow the burning feeling building up in your throat.
rick can’t take his eyes off you. after receiving the same treatment, he’s still mesmerized by the whole thing; the spontaneity of it, how absurd it all was, how soft and plush your mouth had been, how perfect you are.
“never knew you were such a whore,” shane groans with a gasp of your name, pushing your head down when you start to slide up and off of him to say something. “fuck, you’re so good for me, baby, always have been.”
his grip is buried in your long hair. rick observes with his half hard cock in his hand, eyebrow arching lightly at the sight of shane’s face. your boyfriend tightens his grip and before you know it his cock is thrust into your throat. a few more slams of his hips and he’s holding you firmly while you gulp down his length - and his release.
shane backs out of your mouth only to snake a rough hand down your pants.
“shane!” you’re nearly squealing when he thumbs down your panties and moves towards your sensitive patch of nerves. your face is overtaken with a blush again as your leader palms his hard on on the bench next to you.
whispering low in your ear, your boyfriend hums;
“now, you wanna show rick how grateful you are with your pussy?”
#the walking dead#rick grimes#shane walsh#rick grimes x reader#shane walsh x reader#rick grimes smut#shane walsh smut#twd imagine#twd smut#rick grimes imagine#rick x reader#not beta read#threes0me#f/m/m#blowy#shane survives to season 5#alternate universe#pretty rough#big dick rick grimes#twd#roadside mess = these three#grimesgirll#ditzy thought fr#shane warning!!
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he holds me in his arms, it’s no good
rick grimes x fem!reader
🎧 American Tradition- Nicole Dollanganger
Rick Grimes takes you in after the fall of Woodbury. Having lost everyone, you form a special relationship with the man. After the virus shakes the group, The governor comes back with a vengeance. You flee with Rick. As you get closer with him, you want him to see your relationship very differently.
4.7k (sorry)
Disclaimer and A/N- Some canon divergence. carl is fine but let’s just say he is with michonne until they reconnect. Judith is fine too. A bit of angst. This idea came to me in a dream!!! Not proofread
CW and Tags- Angst, age gap ( reader is in her early 20s) unprotected p in v, fingering, Loss of virginity, a lot of intimacy,, protective soft rick who is a bit reluctant,loss of loved ones ( mentioned) trauma bonding, cute nicknames,can’t think of any more lol
It’s a cool Georgia morning. The stomp of Rick’s boots makes the leaves sound extra crunchy. Cicadas hidden in the trees chirp as the two of you scavenge for shelter. It’s been 3 days since the destruction of the prison. As you and Rick walk along a highway, your hands interlock your hand in his hand.
As far as being in the apocalypse goes, you’ve had it pretty easy. You’ve always had somewhere to go, and people to rely on. You were in college when everything started, states away from your family. You’ll realize early on that you’d never see them again, and disturbingly, you tried to forget them altogether. This path of thinking was clearly unhealthy, you knew, but this entire situation was dysfunctional and not ideal, to say the very least.
You were at Woodbury for a while. You were eternally glad and gracious, because you knew if you went out into the outside world, you would die immediately. You couldn’t shoot a gun, the thought of running made you ill. After the fall of Woodbury, Rick Grimes and his group in the prison took you in. As you always fit a domestic role, Hershel taught you to plant and raise pigs. You would spend your early mornings and afternoons tending to the pigs, and hanging out with Rick.
The two of you would talk about mundane things, the movies you used to like, the weather, and how fast the pigs were growing. You saw the glimpses of his troubled nature here and there, but he was really trying. That's all he could do, was try. He put in effort to be a good father to Carl and Judith.
On one particularly hot night, the two of you bare your soul to one another. You were feeling particularly sad because it was a hot and humid afternoon, you were sticky all over and covered in bug bites. It was late summer, the time of year when the outbreak had started. While digging a hole to plot a new plant, heavy glops of tears ran down your face, and small sniffles were let out. You had your face in your hands, as tears fell into the planter. Rick has been watering the plants, whistling. Rustling around, he didn’t notice your soft cries, at first. And when he did, he immediately dropped the watering tin and jogged to you.
Hey, hey what’s going on? what happened, you alright sweetheart?” He showed great concern in the tone of his voice, looking tentatively into your eyes, as you tried to wipe your tears away with your sleeve. Pulling you in for a hug, you’re hit with his dusty musk, his scent grounding you, calming your nerves. You shiver under him as he holds your head in his forearms and hands.
“ I don know if it's any consolation, but m always he’re for you.” He says ever so softly. He places his lips, softly, on the top of your head.
You manage to let out a hushed “ thank you” into his shoulder.
He whispers an “ anytime” while still holding you. It's more intimate than anything you've ever done. His forearms, muscular and defined, entangle you lightly. An unspoken bond was formed, and your understanding of each other was taken to a new level. You continue to sniffle into his linen-lined shoulder.
You two were like that for a while. Touch had begun to be a rare commodity in the end times so you cherished it with every moment you had. A simple high five had left your hand with a stinging aftershock.
The air around you two shifted, and you began to see him differently. He obviously caught your eye even before you said one word to him, but the feeling was starting to be mutual.
Rick was at war with himself. His wife had just passed, he had a baby daughter to look out for and this wasn’t necessarily the time for a crush on a girl decades younger than him. But he couldn’t deny how you made him laugh at the silliest things, and how you scared the devil out of him when you clumsily fell or scraped your knee. You simultaneously make him anxious, and tranquil. The very sight of you gives him relief, makes him forget his situation.
The two of you sit down on the grass. He grasps your hand as you spill out what's wrong.
“ Uhh. I dunno. Guess I've just been feeling weird lately. The weather makes me feel sad. Reminds me when it first happened. Last time I spoke with any of my family members it was months before the outbreak. I never kept in contact. I really regret that, should have.” Your voice steady now that you feel a breeze coming in. You pull out patches of grass in pinches.
“ ts alright. I got in a fight with Lori, that was the last time I saw her until I woke up from my coma” He explains and smiles, looking ahead at the prison, the rays of red sunlight illuminating his face. You swear he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, comparative to a painting.
You never wanted to ask him about her, you’ve only heard whispers of the man’s wife. You didn’t want to think about that, and you didn’t want to think about Rick thinking about her.
He gets up and offers his hand. “C'mon, lets go wash up” As he walks you to the prison, you rest your head on his shoulder.
That was a few weeks before the virus. It was hard to be in the dark if any of the people you began to bond with were alive, close to dying, or not.
Then the governor came back. Gunshots rang around the prison. Your shoulders hung up with fear as Rick approaches the governor's army. Hershel is killed. You grab a gun and shoot whoever is charging at you. Rick catches you and yells for you to run. A blur you could hardly remember. Flashes of quick movements feel like forever, until Rick grabs your hand.
The two of you escape through a fence, as Rick watches Carl run with Michonne.
Rick couldn’t think of anything right now, except for protecting you. He knew Michonne and Carl would be safe with one another, all he needed to pay attention to was you. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight.
Traveling for days on end without a sign of a safe shelter began to take a toll on both of you, especially Rick. He didn’t know when he would see his son or his newborn daughter. He still had to bring you to safety, figure out the next course of action.
The only thing he had to calm the storm was you. He was glad that it was you that he ran with. Your protection and safety were the thing driving him, he needed you just as much as you needed him. To pass the time, the two of you would whistle and hum and sing your favorite songs. You’d began to sing “Take Me Home, Country Roads” while practically skipping.
“Hey slow down, kid, can’t keep up with ya” He chuckles while jokingly warning you.
“I'll stop if you sing with me” you giggle, as you find solace in constant moments of distress.
His eyebrows furrow and he scoffs. He starts singing, horribly so, to get you to stop skipping.
A peace of mind was needed. You come across the library hidden in the trees near a country club. Rick looks at you spotting it, as you try not to mention it. You know it’s probably run with walkers, and it’s not a good idea to go.
“Let’s check this out. We won’t be long but maybe they have a couple things” He sternly points out. “That okay with you?” his drawl comes out a bit at the end of the question. You give him a slight smile and a nod.
“Good” He takes your hand and as a force of habit, you look both ways while crossing the street.
“You don’t have to do that, you know that doll?” He giggles. The two of you giggle too much in the apocalypse.
“ I know but I kinda want to,” you explain to him.
He looks down at you and softly whispers, “You’re like sunshine,” You can barely hear what he says, but based on the stoic expression on his face, you probably shouldn’t ask him to repeat.
The two of you stroll to the library while Rick checks for walkers. You’ve only ever killed a handful, but you know you needed to be useful so you had your hand on your knife holster.
He holds the door open for you and gives you the all-clear. With a gun in his hand, he scans the place for walkers, listening for any low groans. He puts his gun back when he doesn’t see any. A hand caresses your back as he motions for you to go ahead.
You wander the adult fiction section of the library. The books on the shelf are collecting dust, which makes you quite sad. You browse the A section and come across Sense and Sensibility, one of your favorites. Rick comes up behind you.
“ Hey, can I take this?” You look up at him.
“ Yeah, of course, take whatever you want sweetheart” He whispers. You swoon at the use of his pet name and get embarrassed at yourself for it. It’s horrible that you smile at every interaction you have with him, but you know he doesn’t think of you like that. It would be silly to think otherwise. You shove your feelings down and feel something turn in your gut.
He walks over to the T section and grabs a copy of The Hobbit.
You scan the employee break room find gauze in a first aid kit and decide to put it in your backpack.
“Alright, let’s get outta here. I think I see a neighborhood some way” He says again in a low tone.
You tiptop in front of him as he moves his gun around looking for walkers while exiting. You walk in each other's silence while on your journey to a simple house without any walkers nearby. He offers you some peanuts out of a pack he found in the library. You take them.
You and Rick settle in. It’s homey and has no residents, so it’s absolutely perfect. You take your boots off to make minimal noise, as you roam and try not to make creaks on the wooden floor.
“Be careful, yeah?” Rick settles on the couch, body spread out, stifling a groan. The image of him laid out like that is almost pornographic. He licks his lips, his shirt is lifted up a bit and you can see his defined biceps, hands on top of his head, his stomach peaking out. You close your eyes for a second and imagine yourself sitting at his feet, hands on his thigh while he pets your head. You shake the image immediately and roam upstairs.
All of the bedrooms are intact. You walk into what seems like the primary bedroom. You descend down the stairs to alert Rick and give him the all-clear. He is peacefully asleep and silent. You walk over to him and grab his jacket. A hand plays with his hair softly, as you admire his sheer beauty. The shape of his nose, his pale piercing eyes, and his dark coiled hair.
You settle down on a rickety old chair, watching over him as he rests, draping his jacket over you like a warm blanket. All you can think about is how grateful you are to have Rick here. It truly was the best-case scenario, him with you. You watch him sleep peacefully as you beam at the image of Rick finally resting.
While fast asleep, Rick could feel your eyes on him and moves his mouth in a slight twitch. The only reason that he’s able to close his eyes is because you’re there. His little angel. You read your book as the light peaking through the window begins to dwindle, and the air gets cooler. He wakes up after a couple of pages. He sluggishly gets up and gives you a sleepy smile with half-shut eyes. You offer him water you filtered while camping out in the forest. He thanks you for the water while guzzling it down, water dripping down his chin, he wipes it all over. You tell him that you saw some board game upstairs in the main bedroom. He follows you up.
The both of you settle on the bed, sitting up. He can’t stop staring at you, like he’s about to devour you. You walk over to a small bookshelf holding Connect Four, monopoly, and a deck of playing cards.
“What do you want to play?” You ask considerately.
“Uh… your pick” He runs his hands over his hair.
You take out the deck of cards, looking at it tentatively.
“Ya know I've never played any card games”
He clears his throat and responds. “Really, well we’ll start real simple. Uh, let’s play War. It’s easy, you’re a smart girl so you’ll catch on quick,” he chuckles.
You’re on the edge of the bed near the bed frame, you take the deck out of its case. He leans in closer to you as you inhale his musk. You hand him the cards as your eyes linger on his hands.
“ Alright so here’s what we do. So basically,” You do not pay attention to what he’s saying. A nod is given, you say that you get it and you’re ready to play. To be quite honest, you don’t care about the game. All you really want is to pounce on him.
Surprisingly, Rick catches on. He sighs, “We don’t have to play if you don’t want to. Looks like you clocked out” He gives you a slight smile.
“Nah, I want to but I got something on my mind, it’s really nothing,” Your gaze shifts to the wooden floor.
“Well spill, this a good time as any,” Southern definitely drawn.
“ Well, when we were in the prison, before the virus, before the governor, that stretch of time where everything was fine and felt like normal?” He nods along. “ I used to crush on this guy. It was pretty bad, I knew he didn’t like me like that. But god, he was enigmatic. He was so dignified yet so sweet and caring.” You’re overwhelmed. And a liar.
“Anyway, I shouldn’t be thinking about him in that way. Wrong guy, wrong time to feel that way about anyone.” You sniffle.
Rick is absolutely clueless. You could tell he was trying to list off all the boys that were around your age.
“ I’m sorry to hear that. He was so stupid to not return those feelings. You’re such a sweet girl. A girl like you deserves the goddamn world. I know it might just be the two of us for a while, but I want to give you that world. It’s you and me ok?” At first, he’s angry at you, it’s irrational he knows. The only man he wants you to think about is him. Then a wave of protectiveness crashes over him. Your eyes begin to sting as his words hit harder. Tears stream out and roll down your cheek, as you let out soft hiccups. His arms grip you so tightly, it seems he might never let go. His warmth spreads all through your body like white hot fire.
“ I never ever want to see you cry like this. It hurts me to see you like this. My heart shatters to pieces when I see you sad, sweetheart.” He pulls away and looks into your eyes while he lectures you. He gently strokes your cheek and wipes your tears away. Your heart rate slows down and you’re grounded. He holds you again, his touch seeming to be familiar now. He’s held you like this before but it’s home now. A deep, disgusting feeling of guilt hits, you despise yourself for lying to him.
“ I have to say something else Rick,” A low whisper.
“Say it then, doll” He whispers back, as you brace yourself.
“Rick. I like you. Not like a friend, not like a daughter. I don’t want you to see me that way. I want to be close to you all of the time, I get weird when I'm not near you. I need you, Rick. But not like that.” your fingers tussle with his belt loops as your eyes wander around the room, down at boots, unable to meet his eyes.
Rick took a second to respond. Inching back, He sighs and runs his hand through his dark curls, conflicted. He pats his thigh, not knowing where to go next. Finally, he replies.
“oh yeah, and how do you like me?” He gazes into your eyes, maintains eye contact while you want to make yourself smaller.
Words can’t seem to come out of your mouth, as all
you can manage to spit out is a “ I.. I..”Rick inches closer to you and begins gently grabbing your arm and placing pecks along your collarbone.
In between kisses, he asks, “is this how you like me sweet girl? Ya need me like this?” he holds your jaw, while he gnaws softly on your lips. you coo out “Oh oh ohs” Hands move up and down your stomach as he grabs your waist.
Your kisses are sloppy and glossy, as he practically inhales you.
“You like me like this huh?” He sets you on your back as he towers on top of you. His knees entangled with your legs, you moan as he keeps kissing your neck. The scruff of his stubble nuzzle into the softness of your neck.
“Baby, I need to ask if you want this, tell me to stop and I'll stop.” He gazed at you for an immediate answer. Of course you want to, you’re hesitant to respond.
“ I-I want to, but i should probably let you know i ain’t never done this before,” You say softly. It’s all new to you. Of course things have happened in college but you’ve never gone that far before.
Rick stops in his tracks. His dick is hard and pressing against your clothed sex. He can’t say no to that shine in your eyes, and the way you clutch onto his arms.
“uhh, alright. I’m gonna take it real nice and slow sweetheart, ok? that alright with you?” He asks with his accent accelerating with the question.
“Okay Rick,” You nod, with a slight expression of worry on your face.
“I’ll make it good for you, don’t worry baby,” He reassures you and seals it by running his calasse-ridden hands down your body then clutches your hand, fingers entangling.
“I trust you.” A shimmer in your eyes.
He descends down the bed, eye level with your pussy, pulling down your shorts, leaving you half naked in your underwear, a wet patch forming. His eyes wide in utter awe, mouth agape at the dark spot at the middle of your panties. He massages your clothed cunt, rubbing in circles to see how you’d react. Quiet, mousy gasps escape your lips.
“Can I take these off sweetpea?” He purrs in a low voice, like honey.
“Of course.” You respond in an eager whisper. He pulls down your underwear and flings them across the room. The two of you smile at this action, your cheeks turning warm from embarrassment, as you hide your face from your hands.
“ Is that all for me?” He strokes your thigh and you nod your head, all doe eyed.He parts your legs open, his hands move up toward the entrance of your sex. A vulnerable feeling creeps up as the hair on your limbs stand up.
“Imma make it even better,yeah sweet girl?” He nibbles at the inside of your thighs.
Arousal settles in the low part of your stomach as he fiddles with the entrance of your pussy. He is excruciatingly slow, building tension.
He palms your exposed sex with his big hand. The cold metal of his wedding ring around his finger is cold against your wet warmth. You don’t think about that, as all you can focus on is the sound of his guttural grunts and shock at your perfect pussy. His pointer and middle finger move in circles around your clit, not entering you just yet. You moan as he slips his ring finger into your plush entrance. You let out a cry as his finger plunges in and out. The sensation of his silver ring against your hot sex adds to the stars you see. He looks to you, wide-eyed, asking for confirmation to add another finger. You nod.
He adds another finger, stretching you out slowly. Sounds of your wet squelch fill the room, along with small squeals and low whispers of “good god” coming from Rick. He didn’t think he could ever make a girl this wet until now.
“You take my fingers so well, baby.” Arousal coils in your core. Your heart pounds as your head feels hazy. He curls his fingers toward your sweet spot, as a scorching sensation of hot waves come over you. His fingers feel your pussy pulse, as the intensity of stimulation increases. Your legs jerk, slightly as you give into pleasure. “Rick, ’m coming.” You breathlessly sob out. A wave of electricity crashes over you, you’ve never came that hard before.
“That’s it, sweet girl, you can come.” He growls. Simultaneously, as he fucks you with his fingers, he brushes his lips up and down your stomach. He finally takes his fingers out of you. The tent in his pants is firm against your pussy. Sweat sticks to your neck and collarbone, as he grabs your chin and kisses you like an old vintage movie. Your eyes closed, arms desperately holding onto his shoulders for dear life. Deep, wet, kisses, lips barely touching, slight brisks of your soft lips against his. Your face is hot as his erection presses deeper against you. A damp patch soaks through his jeans. You slightly grind yourself against his knee, without shame.
“ We can stop here, we don’t have to go all the way,” Rick reassures, with a slight breathless rasp.
“No, no, we can keep going. I want to keep going.” You desperately plead for him not to stop there, in a soft sweet voice.
“Ok. we’re doing this. remember, tell me to stop and I will.” He sternly asserted. He fumbles at his belt, a bit desperate to take it off. The clink and thud of his buckle hardens your nipples and pools arousal in you. You don’t realize that you bit your lip until you taste metallic on your tongue.
He pulls his boots off, along with the rest of his clothing. He gestures to help you pull your shirt up, and you let him.
His cock springs out of his boxers, all pretty and pink, hitting against the low part of his stomach. His length leaks out precum at the tip. He’s pretty well-kept, considering the situation at hand. You bask in the sight of him, his curly pubic hair wild at the base near his heavy balls.
You stare in awe at how gorgeous he is. His beautiful entrancing eyes so pale and blue, his luscious curly hair, his defined arms. You smile up at him and he laughs. You would do anything for him. You would kiss the tip of his boots if he asked, and that’s the problem. Rick lingers on your lips, brushing his fingers against them. He spits on his hand and rubs his length, he does with what he has.
“Gonna be a big stretch, ok baby?” He lines his tip at your entrance. “Alright, here we go.” He slowly stretches you with his thick length, your pussy swallowing him whole. He hisses a groan.
“ Oh God!” You mewled.
“ Ahh fuck baby, you’re so goddamn tight. Gotta pace ourselves.” He mostly says that to remind himself to take it slow, the last thing he does is want to hurt you. It’s a bit uncomfortable at first, you’ve been told, and of course maybe it’s a little unpleasant, but Rick's touch and the earthy scent of him is intoxicating. You feel full, like you were each other’s missing piece to the puzzle.
He isn’t even halfway in, and you’re doubting your own ability to take all of it. He cradles your head, his fingers sprawled over the side of your face.
“Mmm, so feels full” You sob out.
“ I know honey, I know.” He coos at you. He starts thrusting in and out at a slow pace as you acclimate to this full feeling. You're so wet, your pussy resists and almost pushes him out, but he’s so huge and you're so tight, his cock is almost stuck. Lewd sounds of him pounding sweet juices leaking out of you.
Your fingers clutch the bedding, your hot all over.
“ Feels so good baby, God this pussy is gonna drive me crazy.” His voice sweet and heavy like honey.
“mmhmm” You’re already quite fucked out, and you can’t seem to think about anything but him. Him, him, him. You buck, signaling for him to go deeper.
His strokes get sloppier as he moans into your ear. He mumbles low “I love you I love yous” continuously as he kisses you all over your cheek. His calm, daddy demeanor unravels as your walls continue to spasm and flutter against his cock.
In the heat of the moment, you aren’t totally sure if he really means it. The two of you have shown affection, the evidence supports what he says.
“You really mean it? You love me?” You whimper, gazing straight into his eyes. His tip kisses your cervix, but you feel nothing but utter bliss.
“ More than fucking anything.” He enunciates each world with a thrust. He’s close, you could feel it in his rapid strokes and in the way his arms hold onto you for sweet release.
“Rick I’m so close please” You plead for him to go deeper, faster.
“I know honey, I feel it.” He says through gritted teeth, pumping in and out of you. He gently rubs the sides of your lower belly, as he drills into you, the both of you feel crashs of euphoria.
“Cum on my cock, that’s it baby ,” Rick groans out, as your pussy convulses against him. His cock stays in as you feel him twitch around you, he leaves a lingering kiss on your forehead.
He pulls out, asking you if you want it on your stomach. You nod as you look through your eyelashes. He’s on his knees now, jerking his cock, cum spurting out on your stomach, He closes his eyes and groans out. He moves off the bed and grabs a shirt folded onto a chair, wiping his release off of your stomach.
He jumps back on to bed next to you, as you bask in each others presence, bed creaking in response. He looks to you, almost studying the structure of your face. You turn to him, running your hands through his hair.
“ Thank you. for, well, doing that. I liked it a lot.” You giggle. He giggles in response, rubbing his temples.
“Any time. Well maybe not, but we should do this again.” He gazes at you and smirks . Still half naked, he opens his mouth to say something, he hesitates.
“ Ya know what I said, I mean it. I meant it when you came crying to me. I love you and I need you. I know you think you can’t live without me, but I can’t live without you. can’t imagine it sweetheart.” The scruff of his beard scratches your chin as he pulls you in for a soft kiss. You curl up against his chest, breathing in his musk. You drift off into his the tight hold of his arms, feeling as if he’ll never let go, and you’re ok with that.
ty for reading!! not stoked about how this turned about but wtv
dont ask me how long this was in the drafts for….
#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes prompt#dilfism#the walking dead#twd#rick grimes smut#twd season 4#rick grimes angst
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From Dusk Till Dawn
Carl and Y/N exploring an abandoned strip club... Bit of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.
WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral (female receiving)
Tags: @lilyvaleska your request
You and Carl lingered boredly on the dusty road that led through the small town. There wasn't much happening on this scavenging trip - you had encountered a few walkers, but they hadn't posed a challenge, and now the main street lay completely deserted. There were a few stores - a pharmacy, a gun store, a small grocery store, and a kitchen supply store. The others were busy looting these places, and there wasn't much for you and Carl to do. Except to load the looted goods into the cars. "Look for antibiotics," you could hear Siddiq's voice from the pharmacy.
Carl yawned. "This could take a while," he scowled, fingers hooked in his belt, leaning casually against the car. His long hair fell into his forehead. It was hot, the sun was burning, and his shirt was already showing damp patches under his armpits.
"I'm so bloody hot," you grumbled. "Can't we go somewhere more shady?"
Carl looked around. "Over there, the bar, maybe?" he suggested. The front of the bar looked a little strange; it was painted in black and red, and the windows were taped with vinyl so you couldn't see inside. "From Dusk Till Dawn," was the name of the establishment. Hesitantly, you approached the entrance. Carl went in first, with his gun raised and securing in all directions. "Looks clear," he then announced. In the semi-darkness, you roamed the barroom. Here, too, the furnishings were odd - there were fluffy armchairs and discreetly separated alcoves; also a sort of stage with a pole. Carl headed for what used to be the bar, where quite a few dusty bottles littered around. "Jack Daniel's," he said delightedly, swinging one of the bottles. "Want some?" He had already spotted two glasses and poured them both full.
You chuckled. "What is this place, anyway?" you asked, glancing around and sipping your whiskey.
"Uuuum," Carl said awkwardly. "I think it was a strip club." Your mouth opened in shock. Carl emptied his glass. "Should we take a look over there?" He pointed to a few doors at the very rear of the establishment.
As it turned out, there were the restrooms, a storage room (with even more alcohol), and two strange-looking rooms. In the first room were several shelves of various sex toys - latex costumes, whips, masks, dildos and similar stuff were piled up. Carl grinned as he picked up some of the items. "Oh my God," he laughed. "Just take a look."
"Ah, I'd rather not," you rebuffed. "What's in there?" You pointed to the second door. Behind it was a room with a huge bed in the middle. The walls and ceiling of the room were completely mirrored. There was also a chair, and in one corner was an tipped-over box that contained condoms and towelettes. You spun around and looked at your reflection in the mirror as Carl caught you, hugged you, and pressed you against him, kissing you eagerly, his hands touching you under your top. "Carl," you squeaked, "what are you doing?" You had been together for a couple of weeks and had also had sex a few times, but always in your room or Carl's.
He peered over at the bed and then smirked as he took off his hat. "It would be something special to do it here," he whispered lustfully, licking your neck so that you shivered. " Are you up for it?"
A forbidden tingling sensation spread through your body as you nodded bashfully. Carl grabbed some condoms from the box and tossed them on the bed, then started undressing you. "What if someone walks in?" you asked uneasily.
"Wait," he pulled away from you and shoved the chair under the doorknob. Then he approached you again, his flanell and shirt dropped carelessly on the floor. You undid his belt and jeans, exposing him. Carl was already so aroused that his cock looked quite irritated; precum was dripping out and he was proudly standing erect. Carl's balls were slightly swollen. "Look how horny you drive me," he sighed, pressing himself against you, his hands roaming over your naked body. In the mirrors around you, you could see each other from all angles - Carl's hands sliding between your legs, and how you stroked his neck, and also how he pressed his pelvis against you in demand, rubbing his hard one against you.
Soaking wetness flooded your pussy, and you grabbed Carl by the hand and directed him over to the bed. It was covered with a sheet of rubber, and the material felt unusually cold against your skin. You were both so excited by now, though, that it didn't bother you - moaning, you rolled around on the bed, Carl burying his head between your legs to eat you out. "So wet," he moaned between kitten licks as you tugged on his hair and arched your back.
"Carl," you then pleaded. "I'm ready for you, please fuck me. Now." With glazed eyes you looked at him, trembling with desire.
Carl fumbled hastily with the condom, and the sight of it was just making you hornier. Finally he mounted you, and you willingly spread your legs for him as he now gently penetrated you and groaned. "It's so good," he murmured and began gentle thrusts, his breath hot against your ear. In the mirror above you, you could watch Carl moving on top of you, his sexy slender body, his back muscles tensing as he pounded into you, his firm ass. And your own hands stroking him incessantly, moving to his buttocks, animating him to rail you harder. Your fucked out face, cheeks flushed, lips parted.
Carl turned his head to look in the mirror next to the bed, moaning loudly at the sight of you with your legs wrapped around his slim hips, writhing ecstatically beneath him. He intensified his thrusts. "Oh, baby," he gasped. "I cannot hold it much longer. Are you cumming?"
"Yes," you whimpered, "Oh God, Carl, yes." Your pussy tightened even closer around Carl's cock as he brought you over the edge, and that led to Carl now cumming as well, thrusting into you moaning excessively as he rode out his orgasm and shot his load into the condom.
Dripping with sweat and breathless, you stayed lying together afterwards, kissing, until Carl got up to get some of the wet towelettes so you could clean yourselves. "I think we should go back out," he said then. "Not that they're searching for us." You picked up your clothes and tried to adjust your hair halfway. Your faces were still passionately flushed.
As you stepped out into the street, Daryl was leaning against one of the cars. "Where the fuck have you guys been?" he wondered. "Rick was already getting worried, he's been looking for you guys."
"Uum," Carl held up a half-full bottle of whiskey. "We found this."
Rick came over. "Carl, what are you doing?" he scolded angrily, snatching the bottle from Carl and tossing it into the back seat of the car. He sniffed. "You've been drinking," he then accused Carl. "You know how dangerous it is not to stay sober on a scavenging trip."
"Yeaaah," Carl groused defiantly. "It's okay."
"Get in the car," Rick snorted angrily as Daryl grinned.
#the walking dead#twd#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes smut#carl fanfiction#carl grimes#carl grimes imagines
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plsssssss do the oneshot with Carl and one of Negan’s wives i am on my hands and knees begging
info: Carl Grimes x Reader, minor Negan x Reader, you’re Negan’s wife, Carl is 18 and you are 19, canon episode: ‘Sing Me A Song’, NSFW, blowjob, cum eating, dom reader/sub Carl.
summary: Negan gives Carl a tour of the Sanctuary, where his youngest wife grows quite the interest for the boy.
WOOOWWWW you guys really wanted this so i delivered! beginning to think i have a real fascination with the idea of ownership/belonging to someone.. not even necessarily in a sexual way (however yes!) considering there are themes of this in a few of my fics now LOL
“You’re gonna want to look at their titties. It’s cool. I won’t mind. They won’t mind. Knock yourself out.”
You watch as the boy looks down, averting both the eyes of Negan and everyone else in the room. It can be intimidating, you suppose, considering the parlour appears to be a scene ripped straight out of Playboy magazine.
6 women, all clad in the barest-minimum of fabric that can be classed as a dress. Skimpy black numbers, designed to cling to every curve and divot. Negan saunters away, leaving the boy to his own devices, discussing something private with Sherry.
You’re posed over one of the long leather couches, resting your head over the arm. It’s not uncommon for Negan to bring others into the parlour, usually as some sort of twisted power-play, though this is different. It seems almost torturous, to place a boy in this situation, and you fear he’ll combust on the spot out of embarrassment.
Negan passes once more, manoeuvring the boy’s hand upwards to clutch his beer. This is it. As your husband turns his back, you can strike.
“Psst.”
After catching his attention, you wave the boy over, who appears to grow increasingly nervous at the proposal. His gaze flickers back over to Negan, then to the other girls in the room. You know that Sherry must be watching you with a look of disapproval.
Nonetheless, he obeys, filling your chest with a sick sense of excitement. You lean forward over the edge of the couch, and when he’s within arms-reach, you snatch the cold beer from his grip.
Taking a generous swig, you size him up in a less than subtle manner. He isn’t exactly very tall, and his clothes are all dusty. But there’s something enticing about that stoic look on his face, trying to seem confident, assured.
“What’s your name?” You ask, though it comes out more like a demand. You’ve always been rather blunt, not willing to beat around the bush, especially when you want something.
He looks back over to Negan, then to the floor, as if he’s reluctant to meet your gaze. “Carl.” The boy answers.
You nod, taking another deep sip from the beer before quirking your head. “Grimes?”
Carl doesn’t answer right away, his jaw clenching and eyes narrowing into something close to a glare. It provides all the answer you need, a wide grin on your face.
“We learn a lot during pillowtalk.” You justify, a statement that only serves to make Carl more uncomfortable. How proudly you boast we only implies you’re more than comfortable living amongst 6 other women, which makes his gut twist in confusion.
Like a cat with a mouse, you continue to toy with him. “Drink much?” You ask him, offering the bottle forward.
Carl can’t help but feel this is all some sort of trick. That he’ll slip up, do or say the wrong thing, and be scolded for it. After all, you’re only an extension of Negan, so he tries to be wary.
Despite shaking his head, he accepts the bottle anyway, holding it awkwardly in his palm. Your gaze is expectant, unwavering, almost to the point of being unsettling. Yet, Carl doesn’t falter, and he doesn’t dare drink the beer.
“Good boy.” You quip, shuffling to kneel up on the couch. Even in this position, he’s a good head taller than you.
You take the bottle back, to which Carl feels a minor bout of relief. Taking another sip, you continue to shamelessly inspect him. “You shoot that gun?”
Carl manages to nod, attempting to look anywhere but directly at your chest, which is temptingly presented to him. “Maybe.” He confirms.
“Sounded like a machine gun.” You point out instantly, not allowing a single lull in the conversation.
Biting down on his lip, Carl nods again. “You’d be correct.”
With his cooperation, you smile widely, wanting to see how much further you could string this along. “Do I make you nervous?” You ask in an innocent tone, though Carl knows it’s anything but.
When he answers, he isn’t looking at you. His gaze is up, a little to the right. “No.” Carl says rather quickly.
You take another swig from the bottle, before it’s lifted up and out of your hands. A noise of protest builds in the back of your throat, before Negan’s large hand cups over your neck, guiding your head to look at him.
“Stealing from me?” He accuses, a wicked grin on his lips as he keeps the beer just out of reach. You lick the remaining residue from your bottom lip, sinking back down to sit on the couch rather than kneel.
“No, sir,” You reply in that equally sweet tone. “Just getting acquainted with my new friend.”
Carl steels his gaze at Negan, refusing to look down at your obedient form. He catches another woman watching them, seemingly disapproving of your attitude.
“Of course you are, sweetheart.” Negan drawls, sweeping his thumb over your cheek.
There’s an anxious feeling settled into Carl’s nerves, unsure whether or not he’s even allowed to be speaking with this girl. But you’d called him over, after all. In a way, he was just following orders.
Whatever mental debate was stirring didn’t matter, for the door to the parlour opened once more, with Dwight leading a beat-up looking Daryl. It stole Carl’s attention away, focused on the growing tension in the room.
Knowing your little game was over, you retreat further into the room, fishing out a cold wine bottle to replace the confiscated beer. You don’t bother listening to their conversation, though as Negan leads Carl away, your gaze remains trained on his retreating figure.
The sparkling liquid sloshes into the glass, foaming up against the sides. You raise it, taking a swift sip, savouring the pungent taste. As you do, Carl takes one more glance into the room, a grin growing on your features as you lock eyes.
Now, you knew very well that cheating was forbidden. It’s what had Amber in such a tizzy, still crying softly over on one of the couches. This was going to be a hard play, but you were always one for a challenge.
You also always got what you wanted.
So, you begged Negan to take you to Alexandria. He immediately said no, of course, yet thankfully you’d been strategic about it. You wore a tiny black nightgown, and with the absence of heels, you leant on your tippy toes in order to press a kiss to his cheek with a long-winded pleeaassseee.
It worked.
What better way to consolidate power than with some arm-candy, Negan would later justify.
You were amazed to discover just how big Alexandria really was. The Sanctuary was sort of a massive factory, after all, but this place looked like a regular neighbourhood. Negan claimed he needed to settle business elsewhere, so he left you with a kiss, and you were permitted to explore.
Of course, you had a specific task to attend to. A need that required fulfilling. Maybe you just liked the challenge, wanting to push that boundary, see if you could really do it.
Though you greatly enjoyed being taken care of, not having to lift a finger at the Sanctuary, you missed that control you’d relented in favour of protection. Before meeting Negan, you’d been fairly well-off, and knew how to manipulate a situation in your favour.
Or, a person. Need be.
“We meet again, cowboy.”
Your pleasant chirp and upturned smile catches Carl off guard, who’d been carrying out a menial maintenance task towards the back of Alexandria. It was a secluded area, private, which immediately put him on edge.
“You’re here with Negan?” He asks, obviously sceptical. There’s a small box of nails in his hands, as it appears he’d been repairing a hole in the fence. Or, trying to, at least, given he’d made little to no progress so far.
You aren’t offended by his hesitance, knowing your presence can be intimidating. As usual, you wore a lacy black dress that left little to the imagination, dipping low in the front and ending around mid-thigh. “Of course.” You confirmed shamelessly.
Only to be met with silence, you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, I’m not his dog. He isn’t around.” You assured Carl, trying to get the boy to loosen up a little.
It seemed to have the intended effect, as he put down the supplies he was working with, offering his full attention. There was a critical look on his face, something near judgemental, which lit a fire in your belly.
“Why are you with him?” Carl asked, finally inquiring into what’s been playing on his mind.
You raise a brow, biting at the bait. “Why not?”
His expression twists once more, a molten well of determination in his veins. “Are you serious?” Carl urged, not understanding how you’d be so.. complacent. “I mean, you’re, what? 20?”
“19.” You corrected with a sly smile, the word uttered with an inkling of pride, as if it was something to brag about. Only 19, and you’d acquired a husband who’d give you anything.
But you, somehow, still wanted more.
Shaking his head, Carl echoed your sentiment. “19.” He sounded disapproving, critical of your position. Maybe it was a tone intended to make you back off, but it had the opposite effect, as you found that you wanted him more.
It looked like he was about to say something else, further comment on the situation. So you stepped forward, intruding on his personal space. His brows furrowed, confused, as he backed a little further into the fence.
“What-..” He begun talking, though was quickly quelled by your finger, tapping gently over his lips. Each nail was perfectly manicured, painted a soft pink colour, drawing his eyes downwards to the appendage.
You looked up slightly to meet his gaze, though thankfully the heels gave you some leverage. “Are you not into me, or something?” You asked, the words tainted with feigned sadness.
It elicited the intended reaction, for Carl shook his head almost immediately, words coming out hurried and confused. “What? No. You’re… beautiful, obviously.”
The smile returned within an instant, a sly grin that manifested much too quick for the previous emotion to be genuine. Carl was beginning to catch on, starting to understand that you had a better hold on his feelings than he did.
It was like playing with a Venus flytrap. You were a minx, a siren. Each word was sticky, coated in a honey-like sweetness that caused him to fold, bending to your every desire.
Instead of answering verbally, you slid to your knees, finding purchase in the gravelly earth. Soft skin became slightly dirtied, though you paid no mind to it, gaze still firmly locked on Carl.
He swallowed, hard, appearing in slight disbelief. Those manicured fingernails gently scraped the fabric of his flannel, trailing down, down, to the denim of his jeans.
“This is.. we shouldn’t do this,” Carl whispered, sounding both breathless and slightly panicked. “You shouldn’t do this.”
“But you want it.” You interjected, and as if to make a point, traced a pointed fingernail over the crotch of his jeans. They were slightly tented, causing Carl’s face to flush with embarrassment, looking towards the sky to avoid gazing directly down the exposed portion of your chest.
Fostering his attention back, you gave a chaste pinch to his side, causing Carl to yelp and look back down at you. His silence caused you to grow stern, that soft allure gone, replaced by an air of dominance. “Say it. Say you want it.” You commanded.
As if on command, Carl was nodding, forcing the words from his throat. “I do.”
“Really?” You inquired, stretching out the tension, which only ebbed on the throbbing feeling in Carl’s pants. It had been hard enough to remain composed in front of Negan, but without the looming threat, his mind found that it wanted you more than he’d like to admit.
“Yes. Please, I want you.” He finally uttered, those few words delivered in a tone of desperation, laced with a hint of shame. This was wrong. So wrong.
The smile returned once more, conforming back to that sweet, soft look. You appeared proud, content, happy to have gotten your way. “Good boy.” You cooed, and in that instance, Carl believed it was all worth it.
You finally worked at his jeans, unbuttoning the fly and slowly pulling the zipper down. Despite being near the back fence of Alexandria, anyone could walk past, which added to your excitement and Carl’s anxiety.
Fisting him in your hand, you licked your lips, savouring the way his breath would hitch. His cock was hard in your palm, the tip red and strained from all the teasing. It was slender, curved slightly, and you wondered how it would feel in your throat.
“Did you like the dress?” You asked him, hot breath hitting his exposed cock as you spoke, “I wore it for you.”
Carl’s gaze was drawn down, back to the exposed cleavage in the silky black dress. He found himself nodding, having to force the words out, still in somewhat of a state of disbelief.
“Yes, I did,” He replied, voice cracking as your palm tightened its hold. “I do.”
Finally, finally, you poked your tongue out, flattening it to lick a generous strip from base to tip. You swirled it around the top, collecting the salty precum, before suctioning your lips onto his heated member.
Trying not to make too much noise, Carl’s hands fumbled, holding onto the fence behind him. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, barely holding in a ragged moan as you slide down his clock, wet mouth enveloping him to the hilt. It was no surprise you were this good.
You looked up at him, lashes slightly wet with the stretch, as you held your place. One hand rested over his hip, whilst the other reached out to take Carl’s hand in your own, leading it to the back of your head.
He was nervous, clearly, trying not to hurt you. But then you swallowed around him, tight throat restricting, allowing him to feel every ridge, and Carl couldn’t help himself. His hips nudged forward, shallowly thrusting deeper into your channel, with a stuttered gasp.
Encouraging the movement, you dipped your head back for air, before swallowing him whole once again. Carl seemed to get the message, his hand gently fisting your hair, as he worked up a steady motion that allowed him to fuck into your throat.
The pressure of a tight, wet heat was unlike anything he’d had before, and Carl found himself unable to be silent. His moans were quiet and breathy, moving up a pitch whenever you swirled your tongue around the tip on the up-stroke.
You reached up, forcing your palm over his mouth, trying to keep him from making too much noise. It serves to muffle the sound, along with enhancing that arousing feeling of control, revelling in the fact that he’s at your mercy.
Feeling him twitch in your throat, you pull away. It elicits a whine from Carl, strung out and desperate to have you in any way possible. Keeping him at that edge, you build up firm strokes over his cock, now slick with your saliva, as you hurriedly pull down the bust of your dress.
It exposes your breasts to the cool air, giving a firm yank on your bra to free them. The sight causes Carl to gasp, squirming in your hold as you tighten your fist, finally milking sticky strings of cum that land right on your skin, spilling all over your tits.
With practised motions, you slow down, not wanting to overstimulate the boy. His head falls back, leaning against the fence, trying to catch his breath. You shake your hand out, relieving it of the slight cramp from how dedicated you’d jerked him off.
As planned, your breasts were coated in his release, though luckily it hadn’t soiled your dress nor bra.
You brush the dirt from your knees as you stand, finding them to be slightly scraped due to the gravel. Carl’s attention falls on you once more, after he’s readjusted his jeans, rendered speechless by your appearance.
The silence fills the space between you, though you have an expectant look on your face, once Carl doesn’t quite understand. A raised brow, you glance down to your chest, before back up at him.
“Gonna clean up your mess?” You ask him.
He blinks once, twice, before catching on. “You mean… with a towel?”
You purse your lips, a manicured finger swiping across the swell of your breast. It picks up a glob of cum, pearly white on the tip, which you deposited into your mouth.
Carl seems to get the hint, a nervous look on his face. He’s never… eaten his own cum before, the idea making his face scrunch up in mild disgust, though you seem to do it effortlessly. His hands settle on your hips, hesitantly, still standing there in consideration.
“Unless you want Negan to see?” You prompt once more, the vague threat working to kick him into gear, understanding the severity of the situation.
It was his mess, after all.
His head dips down, licking a tentative stripe over your exposed breast. The taste is unique, salty and distinct, though not exactly unpleasant. Carl tightens his grip on your waist, as you gently thread a hand through his hair, guiding his face as he cleans you up.
The action has your nipples hardening, a tingly sensation growing between your thighs, though you’d wait until later to satisfy yourself. When he pulls up, there’s a smug look on your face, gleaming with pride.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You whisper, leaning close to deposit a grateful kiss over Carl’s lips, tasting him on his tongue once more.
His face is red, flustered and slightly embarrassed over what you’d made him do. You tug your bra back into place, along with adjusting the hem of your dress, smoothing it down to reestablish that perfect appearance.
“I’ll see you soon, okay?” You announce, giving the boy a small wink before prancing back into Alexandria’s centre. There’s a breathless stammer behind you, though you pay it no mind, willing to let Carl simmer in his feelings before your eventual return.
Of course, you managed to clean up a little more before reuniting with Negan, who was speaking to a Saviour at the front gate. He greeted you with a chaste kiss to the cheek, arm wrapping around your waist.
“What happened to your knees, baby?” He rumbled, concern furrowing in over his brow.
You looked down, noticing how they were slightly scraped. “Heels on gravel.” You shrug, offering it as a minute explanation, though of course, it’s far from the truth.
For now, Carl would remain your little secret.
#carl grimes x reader#the walking dead x reader#twd x reader#twd x you#carl grimes#carl grimes x you#negan smith x reader#the walking dead#negan smith
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A Mess || Part 8
New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here starting with this series since it was the most popular!
A/N: this is not the last part I promise
Summary: You finally make it to the town you set out for all those days ago. Feelings get shared when you find a place to stay for the night.
18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, suggestive
"Can't believe we left the map." Daryl shook his head as he drove. He finally got one of the cars working, though it had a strong gasoline smell as he drove it.
"You were in charge of it." You pointed out.
"Don;t need it anyhow." He defended. Men and their pride when it came to directions never ceased to amuse you. "Should be 'bout thirty minutes up this road. We can load up some while we're there, get gas, hole up of the night, and loot s'more before we head back tomorrow."
"Sounds great." You agreed. "If I have to go one more day without a shower I'm gonna kill someone."
"Can barely fight a walker off of ya. Who you gonna kill?" He teased.
"I was distracted." You defended.
"With what? The view?" He retorted. Well, yes, but you couldn't tell him that.
"Whatever." You grumbled, crossing your arms and turning your attention out of the window.
It wasn't long before the town you two originally set out for rolled into view. You spent an hour looting an old thrift store for some clothes and random things you thought the prison could use. Board games, soaps, hairbrushes, plates and bowls, you name it. If they had it, you took it. Next was the pawnshop for guns and ammo, which were pretty sparse but they did have some good knives and machetes. You also found an old DVD player and some movies that you thought might be nice for Carl or something. Daryl focused more on equipment. Golf clubs, tools, lawn equipment for when everyone started working on the garden.
On your way out of the pawnshop with your load of treasure, you noticed a flyer on the window. 'MONTHLY FOOD DRIVE - DELIVER ALL GOODS TO 227 PINEBLUFF CT DR'
"Hey, check this out." You called Daryl over. He squinted as he read it.
"C'mon. Town's small. Can't be too hard to find."
----
It wasn't hard to find. It was a church, of course. Wasn't hard to clear the place out, either. Just the pastor and a few ladies stumbling around. They had a bunch of canned goods stored in an office, which you and Daryl happily loaded up in the car.
"Think this is a good spot to crash for the night?" You asked him.
"Nah. Windows are all busted. We'll find a little house or somethin." He said.
So, when you guys were done with the church, you drove around for a little while, siphoning gas from random vehicles and searching for a house suitable for the night. He settled on a little blue house, with a fenced in front and back yard. He reasoned the fencing was good added protection. Plus, the windows looked to be in tact and overall the place looked untouched.
There weren't any walkers inside, but there also wasn't any food. There was, however, running water. Whoever these people were, they ran their house off filtered rain water.
While Daryl was working on blocking all the exits off with furniture and nailing blankets over the windows so nothing could see inside, you opted for a shower. It wasn't hot since the house had no power, but damn was it nice to feel clean. Well, as clean as you could get with no soap, anyways. The towels were all dusty, so you drip dried when you got out. When you were dry enough you slid into the extra outfit you packed, and found your way back out to Daryl. He had the house as safe as he could get it by then.
"All yours." You told him.
"Nah." He shrugged.
"Uh, you smell like a biohazard." You insisted. He glared.
"Yeah, shoulda smelled yourself. By day two in that tree house you were chokin' flies." He shot back.
"And, would ya look at that, I showered!" You sneered. He huffed a little breathy laugh and shook his head as he grabbed his bag and disappeared to the shower.
You were hungry, so you decided to light the gas stove and heat up a can of Campbell's chunky beef stew for the two of you to share. By the time it was done, he was out, so the two of you ate in silence before tossing the emtpy can and borrowed spoon in the sink.
"It's not even dark yet." You commented.
"Yeah. Best to get to bed early. We can head out first thing, make it back home by tomorrow night." He reasoned.
"Guess so." You agreed.
"Guess? You don't wanna get back?" He questioned.
"And give up our quality bonding time?" You joked. He scoffed and shook his head. Damn, you were a smartass.
"'S that what ya call it?"
"Yup. What else would it be?"
"Thought we were stranded on an island." He recalled.
"Oh, that. No, I was just hungry." You shrugged. "Never take me seriously when I'm hungry. I become a different person, really."
He rolled his eyes a little. "Still wanna play that game?" He asked.
"What game?"
"Twenty questions."
"Twenty-one questions, Dixon." You corrected. "And sure. You go first."
"Alright." He nodded, pondering for a moment. He had a million questions he could ask, but somehow they felt too personal. Did you miss Shane? Were you ready to move on? Did you like him, or were you just a tease? Why did you always pick on him? Was it the same reason he always picked at you and gave you shit? "How ya like the shoes?"
"They're good." You nodded. "I love them. Thanks again. Uh.." You thought for a second. "How long do you wanna grow your hair out?"
"I dunno." He shrugged. "What'd ya like to do before the world went to shit?"
"Hmm... Paint, listen to music, go go out and eat my weight in food from little hole in the wall restaurants." You recalled. "What kind of music do you like?"
"Whatever was on the radio." He said. "You plan on movin' on?"
That was an okay question to ask, right? He broke the ice pretty well, he thought, with the rapid fire Q&A flying between the two of you. He realized maybe not, though, because you seemed to really take your time with that one.
"Don't see why not." You finally said. "I mean, he would, right? As long as I thought I found someone who would treat me right... Are you seeing anyone right now?"
You asked the question so casually but it choked him up. He felt so naked, like a chicken with all its feathers plucked off one by one.
"No." He cleared his throat. "Nah."
Uncomfortable silence blanketed over the two of you.
"Your turn." You reminded him.
"Oh. Are you?"
"Am I..?"
"Seein' anyone." He clarified. You giggled a little.
"No. But I have met someone. Real nice guy, actually. He gets me gifts and teases the hell out of me, but I think he'd do just about anything for me." You smiled to yourself. He had to know you were talking about him, right? Wrong. He was clueless. Right over his head. He admittedly felt sad to hear it. Who was this guy? He kind of sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you. "Do you like anyone?" You asked, taking him out of his swirling thoughts.
"Nah." He shrugged. A lie, but everything he had tried to work up to was washed away when you said you met someone.
"Oh." You said, slight sadness hinting in your voice. "Your turn." You reminded him again.
"Who's the guy?" He asked.
"Oh, you don't know him." You waved him off. If you could slap yourself, your would. What kind of lie was that? He knew everyone. There were literally less than ten of you if you didn't count the baby.
"Oh? Some kind o' pen or somethin'?" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Then it hit him; you were talking about him. That's why it sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you, because it was him. "Oh." He blurted quietly.
Your face felt like it drained of blood completely. Well, way to completely humiliate yourself around the only real friend you had, huh?
"You okay?" He asked.
"Yeah." You nodded, forcing a smile, but your voice was sort of meek and squeaky. You shook it off, reminding yourself that you were, in fact, not the type to falter under pressure. This would be no different. So what if you liked him and he didn't feel the same? You could get past that. It was nothing--
"(Y/N)." He snapped you out of your thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"You asked if I like someone..." He trailed as he shifted uncomfortably.
"Yeah?"
"It's just -- I do, but... How do I know she likes me too?"
He didn't make eye contact as he asked. In fact, he looked quite literally everywhere except at you.
"You just... ask. And if you don't wanna ask... Make your move." You shrugged.
"Right." He nodded.
Well, that conversation had gotten awkward enough for you, so you figured that was a good place to end it. You cleared your throat and stood up.
"I'm gonna go choose a bed." You announced.
You went to walk past where he sat on the couch but he stood up abruptly and cut you off.
You looked up at him with confusion. What did he want? Your nerves were eating away at you and you were honestly pretty tired. You shifted your weight anxiously.
"Daryl--" You went to complain about it but he had other plans. He gripped your arms firmly and smashed his face into yours. Like, actually smashed. It hurt. "Ow." You mumbled as you rubbed over your mouth. He gulped. It was supposed to be a kiss. Was he always so clumsy?
"Sorry, I--"
"Were you trying to kiss me?" You asked. He just stared at you. "'Cause, I gotta tell ya,you could really work on your technique." You smirked.
When he remained frozen, you began to feel bad for teasing him. He clearly had no idea what to do now. His hands were even still rested on your arms.
"Here, let me show you." You whispered. You reached up for his face, his hands sliding softly off of your arms. When your palms found his checks,you tippy-toed up a couple of inches, and slowly leaned in, placing your lips softly on his. It wasn't a long, rhythmic kind of kiss. It was just simple and soft, and it lasted just a few seconds longer than a quick peck-and-go.
His eyes were still closed when you pulled back, a tiny smile slowly spreading over your lips. When his eyes opened,he looked disappointed, like he was waiting for more.
He leaned down slowly, a little unsure. He was waiting for you to stop him, but you didn't. You pushed yourself back up on your toes o close the gap and snaked your arms around his neck. This time, it was deeper. You slowly moved your lips, allowing him to find the rhythm and synchronise. When he felt a little more confident, his hands gripped your hips and he quickened the pace.
Slowly, he eased you down onto the couch. You gladly followed his lead. When you were comfortably seated, his lips peeled away and his kisses found their way down from your cheek to your neck to your collarbone. Oh, this was going to get good.
A/N: next part will be spicy ;)
Masterlist || Taglist
tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader
((I didn't use the tags in all the one shots I just transferred cause I didn't wanna hit you guys with like 348827502720 notifications in one day))
#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl x reader#the walking dead daryl#daryl twd#daryl fanfiction#daryl x female reader#18+ mdni
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Could you write something about Carl going out on a run and finding a teddy bear he brings back to you as a gift?
Teddy
Carl Grimes, son of Rick Grimes and lover of you, was out on a run with his father. The father and son duo walk in a comfortable silence, their guns drawn and ready to aim at anything that could cause harm. They were in a new town about an hour away from Alexandria so the two were more cautious than usual.
"Is there a list?" Carl asks his father gently
"Just anything we can find, I guess" Rick shrugs slightly as his eyes dart around tentatively. They go into what looked like a grocery store, the town was small so the store looked more like a convenience store then anything. The windows were boarded up and the door was hanging off of the hinges. Rick goes in first while Carl watches outside, the father gives his son the clear and Carl rushs inside.
"Time to look around" Carl mumbles to himself. He knew you have been having a bad time lately and have been in a funk. Carl was hoping to find something to make you smile, Rick knew of this and focused more on gathering supplies while his son found something did you. The two split up in the small store and quickly scan around the building, they find some cans and a gallon of water before moving back outside. They can feel the wind against their skin as they go to the next building, it looked like it was in ruins so onto the next they went. It was a small home. Maybe 2 bedroom, one bath and it was one floor. They went inside quietly and checked each room to make sure no walkers or people were in it before beginning their search of the home. Rick handles the living room, kitchen, and dining room while Carl looks through the bedrooms and bathroom plus any closets. He starts with the closets finding a fluffy blanket for you, it was still nice and folded up. The blanket itself was black and looked to be a good size to cuddle in. He goes into the bathroom next and finds some pain meds as well as old mouthwash
"Ew" he whispers and puts that away before ending his search of the bathroom. He goes into the first bedroom, it was the parents room, their room was a mess,
"And I thought I was messy" he whispers again and looks around finding nothing but a pretty necklace, as he looks closer at it he can see that some of the metal is broken
"Hm" he puts it into his pocket for now then goes it into the final bedroom. The children's room. Inside was a large but broken bunk bed, the different sheets on the bed showing it was a boy and a girl. He goes through the closet first finding nothing but a bunch of old toys. He spots in the rubble of the bed was some fluff. He goes over and moves a piece of wood seeing a dusty teddy bear. Carl always called you his teddy bear from how you cling to him at night so he thought this was perfect.
"Just some cleaning and this will be perfect" he thinks to himself and finishes up in the room before going back out. He sees Rick finishing up as well.
"Find anything interesting?" Rick asks his son
"A blanket and a teddy bear as well as some pain meds. You?" Rick nods knowing who the blanket and teddy bear were for and speaks,
"I found a few bottles of water, some batteries and bandages. This place is clean"
"Should we continue into the next houses?"
"No, it's gonna get dark soon. We should head back" Carl nods at his father and they begin their trek back to Alexandria. They get back to the large gates as nightfall hits, they're let inside and separate after Carl hands Rick the items he found beside the blanket and teddy bear. He goes to the lake and quickly washed the teddy bear and shakes it quickly to try and dry it off. He starts to shake it aggressively to quicken up the drying process. The bear is about 90% dry by the time his arms get tired from aggressively flailing the bear around. He stands and goes to his house where he knows you're waiting, you can't sleep without him so he rushed home knowing you like to sleep early.
Carl through the house and up to his room where he sees you, dressed in one of his flannels and curled around his pillow with your eyes closed. He knew you weren't asleep, a small smile forms on his thin lips. He slowly walks over to you and sets the blanket and teddy bear down. He unfolds the blanket and lays it over you, your eyes open from the sudden feeling.
"Carl?" You whisper softly as your eyes adjust in the dark
"It's me Bear" he comes more into view and smiles making you smile slightly. He grabs the teddy bear and show you it
"Look at what I found for you, a Teddy bear for my Teddybear." He wiggles it a bit and puts it close to you. You smile brightly at the sight
"Thank you" you were never able to save your childhood bear so this meant a lot to you.
"Your welcome bear now let me into the cuddle zone" he says playfully and you open the blanket for him to snuggle into. He takes off his shoes and pants then takes off his flannel and shirt, so he's only wearing his boxer shorts. He gets all cozy under the blanket and hugs you close to his chest and holds the teddy up. He makes the teddy dance a bit to make you smile. He smiles at the lovely sight of the corners of your lips turn up in a sleepy smile. He can see you yawn so he hugs you and the teddy closer as you fall asleep in his arms.
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a moment to focus.
Even after a panic, you and Carl both have time to recalibrate again.
Genre: fluff, hurt w comfort.
Relationship: Carl Grimes x Reader (gender not mentioned)
Warnings: typical TWD related warnings, swearing, possible grammar/spelling mistakes
-— IT HAD TAKEN A WHILE FOR RICK AND MICHONNE TO ALLOW YOU AND CARL TO GO OUTSIDE OF ALEXANDRIA ALONE. Michonne was a little more open to the idea, Rick needed all three of you to try convince him before actually even considering it. Nevertheless, it's amounted to you and your boyfriend finally being permitted to go on a small, unimportant supply run into the nearest city for whatever you wanted.
The trip wasn't too long, slightly strenuous due to the lack of mobile transport, but scenic and peaceful. It seems as though Rick passed through before you two left, clearing it out all the way to the town. Clouds sprinkle the sky, a few covering the sun momentarily before the heat returns onto your backs. The leaves on the trees had started to turn orange and yellow, as if the sly chill now in the air didn't already signal the end of Summer and the introduction to Autumn.
Now, you and him are separated by the dusty shelves of a decrepit book store, Carl attempting to find a new comic book series to indulge in and you trying to find a longer book for you to distract yourself with.
Sighing, you put another paperback into it's spot before you picked it up, reading yet another unconvincing blurb. You scan the place, the sunlight filtering through the dirtied windows across the rectangular building, tiny particles of dust float in the air like miniature pixies. The floor, a dark blue carpet, it covered with debris from the falling roof tiles, showing just how old the store was.
The shuffling of boots behind you takes your attention away from the appearance of the place, instead making eye contact with Carl. He's in his monochrome flannel, a white shirt underneath and slightly baggy black jeans over his brown boots; a new bandage over his eye and his hat shading his face.
"I found one," He looks down, flicking through the colourful pages quickly before stuffing it into his canvas bag with the others, "Got the whole series as well. You found anything?"
"Nope," You reply, turning back around to the sign that read 'FICTION' in bold capitals, "It's like the same story is just titled differently and published over and over."
As you're about to take another off the shelf again you accidently knock a thickly binded one off onto the floor. A cloud of dust follows and an array of growling sounds from the back room. From where the two of you are stood it's a clear view to the door with a hanging 'EMPLOYEE'S ONLY' sign on it, the source of all the noise.
"I didn't even know they were in there." You mutter.
"Neither."
There's a moment of silence as you crouch and pick up the book, putting it back on the shelf. In the process you pick up your bag from the floor, slinging it over your shoulders and sniffling from the dust. The snarling continues, the muffled sound hanging in the air around you two.
Glancing back at Carl, you reach for the axe hanging from your belt, "Should we check it out?"
The brunette steps ahead of you, hand on the handle of his knife as he rears closer to the door. He presses his ear to the wall and listens, holding a finger up to you to tell you to be quiet. Obliging, you move to stand just behind him, awaiting his input.
"It doesn't sound like there’s a lot of them, we could go in and take them out, see if there's anything else we can take back." He looks back at you, tilting his head slightly as he gauges your reaction.
You nod, shrugging, and a second later the two of you enter the room with your blades and weapons drawn. There's no lights, as expected, only the limited natural light that fell from the small oblong windows at the very top of the large, grey-walled stock room. Steel shelf after shelf, each holding multiple boxes - opened or not - as well as packing stations for online orders and bags for those at the till in the front.
The first thing you notice is the green bag dangling from a sturdy nail in the wall to the right of the door. Unzipping it you were greeted with a collection of bandages and gauze, sanitary supplies, plasters, a tourniquet, as well as latex gloves. Showing the bag to Carl he gestures to his bag, and you quickly shove it in with his comics, carful not to damage them in the process.
Moving further in together, you covering his back and him covering yours, the two of you look down an aisle at a time. The first had two walkers which you both took out immediately before going down it, taking your time to open each box in case something was hidden. It seemed to be time wasted as you both end up with nothing afterwards.
Carl walks to the end with a huff, turning around the corner to go into the next aisle, announcing it to you in a mutter.
He squints, the room not exactly the best for him to be in. Not only does he now have a blind side, but the lack of light and ruined depth perception is really messing with him. He moves his head to try see better, counting four zombies as he gets closer to them.
It takes him a minute or two to get them all, the first and second going down easily as he had caught them by surprise. Struggling with the last two due to them crowding him, he huffs and makes quick work of driving his knife into their skulls. Their bodies fall onto the tiled floor like sacks of dirt. He could never get used to the sound when he takes his knife back never gets easier to hear, nor does the sight afterwards. Carl has to stop himself from overthinking - there's no use in spending precious time dwelling over the dead.
He pokes his head around the closest boxes, smiling as he sees you opposite him, occupied with another box on the other side of the shelving unit. Shining his light onto them, he finally catches your attention, you giving him a huff of a laugh before placing whatever you were inspecting down.
"You found anything?" You ask, glancing at a box of paperback books. You take it out, skimming over the blurb, with your interest piqued you place it in your bag.
He shakes his head whilst you do so, "Nothing, it's all branded bags, books and tissue paper, best we got was the ki-"
The brunette cuts himself off with a curse, suddenly disappearing from your limited view from the other side of the unit.
"Carl!" You shout, blinking rapidly as you try pull yourself of the frozen state you found yourself in.
The panic shoots straight to the nerves in your legs, sending you bolting the shortest way to reach the end of the unit you were on.
With your torch long forgotten you take a single moment to register what was happening in the dark - a crawler underneath another unit grappled onto his ankle like a bear trap, dragging him towards the snarling, snapping jaws of death like a ravenous piranha.
As if the surprise encounter wasn't already the worst, his gun is far from him and on his blind side, hand grasping on dust and ceramic grey as you continue to rush to his aid. Coming closer you draw your axe from where it was on your belt just as Carl plants his free foot onto a bottom shelf to try push himself away.
In a second you put all your strength into bringing the weapon into the air and down onto it skull, crushing the decaying bones and flesh underneath the force of which you did so. Blood spurts in every which way, the walkers head like a scarlet grand canyon when you remove the blade. There's droplets scattered along the material of his and your shoes, and a drop or three on your face.
You huff, looking at Carl. He's panting, eye wide and slightly hunched to remove the now loosened hand from his leg. There's a singular drop of sweat from his knitted brow which he wipes away with the sleeve of his flannel. The panic you felt filters through your veins and into the ground, dissipating as soon as relief overshadows it.
"You alright?" You ask, crouching to sit beside him.
The long-haired boy nods, "I'm good,"
"Why didn't you use your knife?"
He closes his eyes in a grimace, "I panicked."
"I thought we were way past panicking when seeing a walker, Carl," You reply, half worried, half angry.
"I thought I was too," He trails off, taking off his hat and resting his head onto the box behind him.
Sighing, you hold back the rest of your scolding to give him another once over. Your view is limited from the lack of light, however his leg is okay and his face seems fine, not a scratch in sight, just dust and grime smeared over the texture of his freckled skin from the time spent exploring. Messy brown locks from his fringe hook onto the material of his eyepatch. Now he sits back, with his eye closed you can see his lashes gently pressing against the slightly flushed skin beneath his eyes.
His own eye catches yours, but you don't look away, and neither does he. It seems he's doing his own check, light cobalt scanning every inch of your face for anything he knew was out of the ordinary. If the two of you didn't just escape the other being bitten it would've made you nervous. It takes a moment for his eyebrows to furrow and the warmth of his palm to press against your face.
Carl pulls you closer to him and for a second you believed he was going to kiss you like he did that morning, instead he hyper fixates on an area on your forehead.
"You're hurt," He mutters with slight haste in his words and takes his hand from your face, immediately taking off his bag and pulling out the kit you found earlier.
Your face fills with confusion as you raise your hand to touch your forehead for the injury you weren't even aware of. It's not a cut but a shallow gash and you hiss as you finally feel it.
"Don't touch it!" He scolds you lightly, rifling through the kit and pulling out a wide plaster and an antiseptic wipe.
You lean back into the unit behind you, mumbling, "I didn't even know I got hurt,"
Carl says nothing in reply, his only focus being the now dripping wound on your head. He gently pulls you into a golden ray of sunshine from a window, away from the now fully dead corpse and to see better with the light casting over your figure. You don't care about the stinging from the antibacterial wipes, taking advantage of his distracted state to run your eyes over him again, trying to indent his being into your mind. Cast in amber behind him, an intense yet nurturing stare directed towards you, with everything in this world today, you don't think you've ever seen this look on him before.
It's undoubtably attractive, being so important to someone that they look at you like that.
"Focus looks good on you." You say, voice low and your gaze on him.
For a second he glances back at you, eye contact sticking like dripping honey, before he looks away, shuffling slightly and licking his lips. It nearly pulls you away from the light pink fading into the tips of his ears. The sound of thin plastic tearing from paper sounds around the two of you as he opens the plaster.
He takes a sharp breath in, "You hit your head or somethin'?"
"No, I think I'd remember that."
His eye is back to the gash as he lines the plaster up perfecting with it. Before you know it he's swiping the rubbish underneath the shelf and slinging his bag onto his back again. After he gains his footing he reaches his hand out to you, and soon enough the two of you are up and moving again. The both of you agree to just scan the place quickly and get out, but before you split up again he reaches for your wrist, lightly pulling you back into him.
His lips are on yours right after. It was only a peck, but who were you to complain? The second you register it, it's gone, but it speaks volumes. It's a 'thank you', his way of displaying you the feelings he felt the moment he was in danger, and the moment you took him straight out of it, and the time he took to patch you up even if it wasn't a major lesion. He cares, and he is grateful for the things you do and are even you aren't aware of them.
The look in his eye when he pulls away speaks for him in a way so that he doesn't need to actually say anything. He's never been fond of PDA (if it even counts when you're in a warehouse alone) but it seems even Carl Grimes reaches his boiling point sometimes. Hands lingering on your shoulders, he slips them off the straps of your rucksack and to his side, where his knife and gun now rest again, before speaking again.
"Let's just go, we have everything." He declares, leaving no room for debate. You shrug and follow behind him, the two of you now on the way to exit the bookstore.
"Fine by me." You reply. wc: 2.3k
#*{ ‘. florawrites<3#carl grimes x reader#x reader#twd x reader#fluff#fanfiction#the walking dead x reader#carl x reader#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x you
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Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:
Chapter 5
Masterlist - Previous - Next
Miss Americana
June 2023:
Rachel stood in front of the antique store, double checking the address before she took a deep breath, pushing the door open. It was dusty, the air smelled musty and the store was only dimly lit. She looked around for a counter and when her eyes made it out in the far right corner, she walked up to it, right when an older man stepped in front of her, making her flinch.
"Jeez! You scared the shit out of me!" Rachel squeaked, taking a step back, looking at the man.
"I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t mean to. Now, how can I help you? What brings you into Harry’s Attic today?" the man’s soft voice was soothing Rachel’s still pounding heart "I see. I give you a minute to gather yourself, again I’m really sorry… my wife always said that I should wear a bell around my neck, to announce where I’m coming from." he chuckled and Rachel laughed.
"A bell would’ve saved me from an almost heart attack." she said.
"Yeah… clever woman that was, my Winnie…" he smiled a little but then clapped his hands together "So? What can I do for you?"
"Oh- umm… I’m looking for Carl. Max Anderson sent me." Rachel repeated the words she got from Stuart.
"And what can I do for a friend of Max Anderson?" the old man, probably Carl, asked, looking around.
"I- umm… I need a new-…" Rachel paused, making sure as well that they were alone before she continued "I need a new identity, with everything that comes with it. New birth certificate, new drivers license, new passport, new social security number, new bank accounts. Oh and my college degree… I need that as well with my new identity."
"The whole package then… I see."
"Yeah… umm-the whole package." Rachel confirmed, nodding.
"Alright, I can do that. I need time until tomorrow to prepare everything…"
"Okay…" that was fast.
"Here, this is my price for everything." Carl shoved his business card over. Rachel looked at it, nodding, Stuart already told her how much it would cost roughly "Fill out these documents…" he shoved a clipboard her way and walked into the backroom.
Rachel looked at it and saw that it was basic things like her age, hair and eye colour, her height. But also about her school, when she graduated from what Highschool, what degree from what university. Rachel filled in the last question when Carl returned.
"I need pictures for your new documents…you want a make over? Change your hair colour as well?" he asked.
Rachel looked at herself in the mirror behind Carl, her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, down to her lower back. She dyed her hair since she was 13, hearing from one too many judges that with blonde hair she would’ve won way more pageants by now.
"Yeah. I think I’ll do that…" the, for now blonde girl, said, changing her hair colour on the documents she just filled out.
"Alright… I need your necklace…" he said, looking through the documents, checking that Rachel answered every question.
"My necklace? Why?" she stuttered, it belonged to her mother and she never took it off.
"If someone followed you, they would want to know why you were here, give me the necklace and you’ll get a receipt that you want to sell it to me, for now I’m only estimating its value… and if someone were to ask I would give them this exact answer…"
"Why do you assume someone could follow me?"
"Darling, you asked me for a whole new identity. A whole new life. Now why would you need that, if someone wasn’t looking for you? I don’t judge. I just do whatever you ask me to, but I also have to protect my business… protect me…" Carl began when the doorbell rang and a man walked in, looking at the girl and the man at the counter "Alright, now give me some time to research and estimate the value of it and then come back tomorrow to discuss the price I could give you for it. And then we’ll see, okay? Maybe sleep on it before you make your final decision if you want to sell it or not…" he said in a professional tone "I’m right with you, Sir." he nodded towards the man who looked through the shelves "So, what’s it going to be?"
"Yeah… here- umm… I come back tomorrow then." Rachel took off her necklace, handing it over.
"Sign here please, with your name…" he emphasised the word name, tapping the line on the last page of the documents on the counter and the girl understood, Stuart told her that she could choose her own name if she wanted to.
She had thought about it for a while and always circled back to her mother’s middle name. Having her mother with her, would be giving her strength, wouldn’t make her feel so alone. She took the pen Carl offered and wrote the name. She didn’t care what surname he would pick, only her first name was important .
"Alright, here is your receipt, I’ll see you tomorrow then." he handed the girl the receipt who mustered a smile.
"Thank you, Sir."
Rachel left the store as fast as she could, pocketing the receipt. She didn’t question how Carl would get her new documents and papers ready in this short amount of time, if Stuart said she could trust him, than she would do it, but she felt weird. Almost empty inside, knowing that her time as Rachel Lombardi was limited.
On the way back to her hotel, Rachel stopped at a drugstore, buying some hair dye and scissors, as well as something to eat. She didn’t want to leave her hotel room too often, still hoping and praying that no one was following her. Back at her hotel she dialled Stuart’s number with the landline phone, sighing happily when he picked up after the third ring.
"How’s Montreal?"
"Busy. Didn’t expect it to be this busy to be honest, but that’s good." Rachel replied, sitting down on her bed "I met Carl today…"
"Yeah? He can handle everything?" Stuart asked quietly.
"Yeah- umm he’s a little creepy, mixed with quirky, cute old man? Hard to explain…"
"Sounds like him. So everything is good then?"
"Yeah. I’m going to dye my hair, cut it… change my appearance…"
"Good idea."
"Yeah. Back to the roots…" Rachel chuckled bitterly, shaking her head "So what’s next? After I have my new identity? What’s happening to Rachel?"
A part of her still didn’t want to know what was happening, but then again, it was her life.
"A- umm let’s say friend of mine, we’ll call her… Isabella- Isabella will come to the hotel, and take care of it…"
"How?" curiosity got the better of her.
"You don’t want to and need to know."
"But it’s- it’s not something illegal?"
"Rach… you think getting a whole new identity is legal?" Stuart chuckled and was met with silence "Exactly. Don’t worry that pretty head of yours. It’s all being handled. And as soon as you have your new passport you can book a flight and get the hell out of here… have you decided on a destination yet?"
"No… I honestly don’t know. Somewhere where they speak my language would be a good start-…"
"So maybe England? Italy? You speak Italian fluently?" Stuart suggested.
"I don’t know… maybe. I’ll think about it." Rachel nodded slightly.
"Alright. Well for now just try to relax, it’ll be okay."
"Yeah. Thanks Stu. I feel like thanking you isn’t even enough…"
"It is Rach, okay? You think now where you’re heading off to. Have a good sleep and all will be good, you’ll see. Good night Rachel."
"Good night Stu."
Rachel read her mother’s letter, cradling it to her chest. The letter, her necklace and one photo album was everything she had left of her. She looked at the neat handwriting of her mother, one sentence catching her eye.
It’s enough for a fresh start, if you know what I mean.
She repeated the sentence over and over again in her head. Her mother wanted to tell her something with it. A fresh start. It was scratching something in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t puzzle it together, frustrated she switched on the tv, hoping to get her mind off it. The news came on, talking about how Montreal will be busier than usually in the next week, because of the upcoming Formula 1 Grand Prix, she rolled her eyes, not interested in a bunch of men racing in circles, when one of the news anchors mentioned the Monaco Grand Prix and it all made sense all of a sudden. A fresh start. In Monaco. Rachel’s mother told her years ago that if she ever had to choose a new home for them, it would be Monaco. After attending the Miss World pageant in 2003 there, befriending a local hairdresser, her mother loved the little principality. She always told Rachel that if she would ever need help and her mother wasn’t there anymore, she should contact Madame Leclerc. Rachel never understood why her mother would say something like that, she was too young to understand the dangers of the life she was living. She didn’t understand why she ever would contact a stranger if her mother wasn’t there anymore. Where would her mother be, if not with her? But with every year Rachel got older she understood. And now she would listen to her mother, who never guided her wrong. She might not just be safe in Monaco, she might also be able to start a new life. Start over from scratch. With a newfound motivation, the young girl got off her bed, grabbing her laptop, checking for flights and accommodations. She was ready for her new adventure, that would start in Monaco. Out of all places in the world where she could hide, at a place like Monaco, she thought her father and the Romanos wouldn’t look for her. How could someone like her afford a life in Monaco, home of the rich and the famous.
Rachel looked at her reflection in the mirror, her long, chocolate brown locks cascading down her shoulders. It was almost her natural colour, or what used to be her natural colour years ago, but now it looked foreign. Like the person who looked at her in the mirror was a stranger. She picked up the scissors and cut off a good amount of hair, watching in satisfaction as they were falling on the floor. It wasn’t really a haircut, nothing stylish, just shorter. It had to be enough for now. Putting on a white blouse, Rachel checked the time, realising that she had to be at the antique store in 15 minutes. She put her hair into a neat, high ponytail, slipped into her sneakers and grabbed her bag. On the way downstairs she fished her sunglasses out of her bag and put them on, leaving the little hotel in a hurry.
"Hello young Miss, what can I do for you?" Carl asked 15 minutes later when Rachel walked through the door of the antique store.
"My necklace…" she pressed out, a little out of breath and Carl cocked his eyebrow.
Rachel took off her sunglasses, putting the receipt down and then saw the penny drop as the man’s expression changed.
"Ahh! Of course, of course! Please come into my back office, I show you what I could find out about your necklace!" Carl waved her behind the counter and she followed him through a short hallway into a little room, the walls were full with ceiling high shelves, full with boxes, stacks of papers, figurines, books and what not "Have a seat." he pointed to a chair at the desk and Rachel sat down "Where do I have it…" Carl mumbled, opening a file cabinet, pulling out a manila folder "Here." he pulled out the chair opposite from Rachel and put the folder down, opening it "Birth certificate, social security number, high school and college diploma, bachelors degree. Also a new bank account, all your money transferred onto it, well not all your money. My payment excluded obviously..."
"How did you do that? Transferring money leaves a trail… someone could find the new account under the new name and…" Rachel interrupted but Carl chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
"My dear, I’ve been doing this for longer than you’re on this earth, I know how to not leave a trail…" he said reassuringly but seeing the worry on the girls face he sighed "I transferred you’re money in tiny little chunks onto offshore accounts all across the world. Then I transferred from other accounts, accounts that have no connection to your money, the amount of money that was left, after my payment, back onto your new account. You see? You’re safe. Who ever will follow your money will only be able to find hundreds of transactions to a bunch of different accounts and that’s it. I know how to do my job, dear." Carl winked, patting Rachael’s hand who slowly nodded.
"Sorry… I- I just needed to be sure that-…" she began but got interrupted.
"That you’re safe and no one can find you or follow you, I know. And please believe me when I say that you are… alright?" he looked at her questioningly and when she nodded again he clapped his hands "Alright… then let’s proceed, I’d say. I need to take a picture for the ID, drivers license and passport and you’re good to go, Miss Lauren Millner, born May, 26th 2001 in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Parents Walter and Caroline Millner, deceased. No siblings or other living relatives. Graduated from Harrisburg High School with a high school diploma and later graduated from the University of Pittsburgh’s School of Nursing, with a bachelors degree in nursing. Specialised in paediatrics."
Rachel scooted closer to the table, looking at the documents in front of her, hesitantly picking up the birth certificate, inspecting it. Next the high school diploma.
"It looks so-… it looks so real?" she whispered, putting the two documents down, reaching for the passport, for now without a picture but still so realistic, that Rachel thought she had a real one in her hands.
"Well, that’s because they are real. Don’t ask questions, accept it. Now come on. Let’s take your picture and then I can finish up the rest."
Her new, smaller suitcase on the bed, filled with some new clothes. Her personal keepsakes, like her photo album, a big folder with her new documents and a notebook next to it. Ready to be packed into the small backpack. Rachel’s entire life in front of her. 22 years fitted in one small suitcase and a backpack. Even less than when she left Boston. A numbness spread through her body, something she couldn’t quite pinpoint, but she didn’t have the time to figure it out, when the phone rang and she hastily picked it up, the receptionist telling her that her taxi was waiting.
"I’m coming down." she hung up, finished packing and closed her suitcase and backpack.
One last look through the room to make sure she didn’t forget anything and Rachel put on her jacket, a thin scarf and new sunglasses, before leaving the room. Her whole insides were churning all the way to the airport and when she got out of the car and walked inside, she realised what it was that was making her feel this way. This was it. Her old life ended here. Her new one began. She took a deep breath, making her way through the crowd, irritated by the amount of young girls, screaming hysterically for the attention of some celebrity. The profile of the young man looked like he was a model, or maybe a singer? A member of the newest boy band maybe? She shook her head, not caring one bit and stopped in front of the check-in queue. When it was her turn she handed over her new passport with slightly shaky hands, something the lady at the desk noticed immediately.
"You alright Miss?" she asked and Rachel nodded "First time flying?"
"Kind of, at least for that long." Rachel replied nervously.
"And then all alone to Europe? You’re visiting someone?"
"Yeah… and old family friend…"
"Lovely. Have a safe trip then dear!"
"I will."
"First things first, you’ll need to buy a new phone when you arrive and then send me a text immediately. I need to know that you’re safe." Stuart urged "Don’t roll your eyes at me…"
"I didn’t-… how did you know?" Rachel replied, hearing her friend chuckle through the receiver of the pay phone at the airport.
"I know you now long enough. So… Monaco. I mean. It’s crazy to think that someone on the run, nonetheless a post grad nurse, would settle down in Monaco of all places. To survive there you have to be loaded… so yeah. Good idea! But then again, how will you survive Rach? I know your mom left you some money and you saved a fortune from your scholarship and working for Pete. But I know how expensive Carl was… you can’t have that much left…"
"Don’t you worry, Stu. It’s still enough, believe me. I can stay in Monaco for a while without worrying too much. And with Madame Leclercs help I hopefully get a job real soon and-…" Rachel began when she heard Stuart sigh a little "What?"
"Aren’t you a little-… umm aren’t you a little too optimistic? Rach your mum met this person once and wrote some letters over the years… but that’s it? Who says that she still works in that hair salon? I mean- did you check?" he asked but was met with silence "So you didn’t? Do you even know the name of the salon? Where it is? No? Nothing? Rach that’s risky-…"
"It will be fine. I have a good feeling about this, trust me, okay?" Rachel said reassuringly when her flight was announced to be ready for boarding "Oh, that’s me…"
"Alright. Then go. And remember, new phone, send me a text!" Stuart chided "And stop rolling your eyes, they might get stuck!"
"You and I both know that that’s just a lie we tell kids to not do it anymore…" the girl laughed "But I will get a new phone as soon as I’m in Nice. I’ll shoot you a text and then I go radio silent for a while. I’ll hide out in Nice, making sure that really no one followed me before I make my way to Monaco…"
"Sounds like a plan. Take care, Rach."
"I will…" she replied quietly, ending the call.
Rachel looked up at the screens above, in search for her gate. Finally spotting her flight to Nice. With every step she took closer to her gate, she felt the pit in her stomach grow. This was it. She left everything behind. No more fear of being dragged into a lifestyle she never wanted to be a part of. The moment she would board the plane her old life would end. The life of Rachel Lombardi would end. Once and for all.
Chapter 5 - no idea if getting a new identity is that easy? But I guess when you know someone who knows someone 🤷🏻♀️ anyways, we’re getting closer and closer to our two characters to meet 🤭 also: what a crazy race weekend 🙈 congrats Max! Amazing race! Also congrats Alpine! Damn!
Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!
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Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!
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I was wondering if you could please do a smut where carl (grimes) and the reader go on a supply run and hook up in the car on the way back after flirting the whole day pleasee
𝐀𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐚
Warnings: thigh riding, smut, vaginal penetration,
It was morning, you awoke feeling refreshed in the cozy house you shared with Rosita and Eugene.
“Good morning, guys," you mumbled with a contented stretch.
Eugene let you know that Rick needed your assistance on a supply run with Carl since Enid had unexpectedly bailed.
"Why the hell did Enid bail over a haircut and Maggie?" you interrupted
Rosita responded with a casual shrug, "Something about Maggie's vision for her hair didn't align with Enid's. Weird, I know. So, are you up for the run?"
“Yeah I guess I’m up for it”
You weren’t excited, because going on runs wasn’t your favorite thing, but having alone time with Carl definitely made it seem more appealing. You always had un-resolved tension. Flirting was kind of your thing, but you never did anything. It’s been that way since you met a few years back at the prison. You wonder if that will ever change.
Having filled yourself with breakfast, you retrieved your "go bag" from beneath your bed.
Underneath a semi-sunny sky, you walked to Carl's place, where the RV was parked outside.
You stood awkwardly on the porch, knocking and waiting for him. Then you heard the dusty doorknob turn and the door open.
“Hey y/n, you know what we’re doing today?”
“No, not really”
“Alright, um well here’s the list it’s mostly food and cleaning supplies. We’ll we back by tomorrow” he said handing the small paper to you
“Okay that should be fine”
“Yeah, lets go”
He hopped in the drivers seat and you sat in the back sharpening your hunters knife.
“So looks like the only towns nearby that aren’t crossed out on the map are North Bethesda and Aspen Hill. Which one do you say we hit?”
“Mm I think North Bethesda. There’s a mall over there with a super-target.”
“Alright sounds good”
You both shared small talk about what candies you both hoped to find this time. On previous runs, you always looked forward to looking for candy after everything on the list was taken care of. The one rule you had established together was calling dibs on what you wanted.
“Okay looks like we’re here, Westfield Mall”
Stepping out of the car, a refreshing breeze hit you. Together, you strolled, through the empty mall trying to navigate the target.
Entering the store, you and Carl wasted no time. Playfully, you picked up a chair and dropped it, hoping to attract a walkers attention.
“There we go," you jeered as a pair of walkers stumbled in your direction.
Carl chimed in, "I'll take care of this one," nodding towards the one on the left.
With swift precision, you pulled out your knife and killed the first walker. When you glanced back at Carl, he had mirrored your actions, already finishing off his own target and dusting himself off. Just then, a hefty walker wobbled toward him from the side. Reacting instinctively, you stepped forward to handle it on your own.
" Walker!" you called out, swiftly raising your blade toward its skull. However, the determined walker fought back, snapping dangerously close to your face. You tried pushing it away with all your strength, but failed. The walker swiped at you with it’s jagged nails.
Losing your balance, you ended up on your butt, and Carl had to step in, taking out the walker from behind. The encounter left you feeling a bit drained and worn out.
“Jeez are you okay?” he said reaching his hand out to you
“Yeah I’m fine thanks” you chuckled
“Oh your shirt” he chuckled, giving you a small smile
“Huh?” you glanced down at your shirt seeing that the walker had ripped it across, exposing your bra.
“Great” you sighed
“Its not that bad, I mean I’m not complaining, but there’s another shirt in that box” he jeered
“Oh shut up!” Tossing your torn shirt at his face. You sifted through a box you scavenged and picked out a regular tank top.
You guys walked around collecting most things on the list. You also found some goods that weren’t on the list like jewelry and snacks.
You both finished and packed everything you looted in the RV. You were throwing a can of empty gasoline in a dumpster when you felt a pain in your shoulder.
“God my arm is aching so bad” you sighed rubbing your shoulder
You felt Carl come from behind you and snake his hands up your back and to your shoulders, rubbing them.
Immediately your muscles relaxed and your head drooped.
“Does that feel good?” he grinned
“Yes” you snickered
“Mm cmon it’s getting dark, lets find a spot to park and call it night?”
“Alright” you giggled
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“I’ll let you get changed in here, I’ll use the bathroom” Carl said
“No that’s fine we can both change in here” you insisted, beginning to undress
He just stood there, almost dumb founded as you were left topless, now unbuttoning your jeans. You looked up to see him glancing everywhere but your eyes.
“What? Like what you see?” You said softly biting your lip
“Don’t give me that look” he said now walking towards you
A brief moment of anticipation hung in the air before he closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a fervent, passionate kiss. You both stayed like that for a moment, you brought your hand down his sides in a seductive fashion.
You broke the kiss to guide him over to the bed before returning it again. He was on top of you, and you both continued stripping your clothes off.
Once you were fully exposed he took a moment to take it all in.
“You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve wanted this.” He said, slightly out of breath
He flipped your position around, you were now seated on his thigh as he began manually moving your hips back and forth.
You moaned into his shoulder feeling the sensation of your cunt rubbing against his jeans.
“I didn’t know you were so sensitive” he grinned
“Ye-yeah me either”
As your rode his thigh, he ran his fingers along your hair. You palmed his dick through his jeans and clung into the bed with your free hand.
He began planting hickies on your neck, but at this point you were too distracted to care. Just then you found the perfect spot that made your vision begin to blur, and you sped up your pace.
“Your doing so good” he purred
You only moaned in response to his praise, too overwhelmed. But just then you realized how empty you felt, you needed more.
“I don’t want to come like this I need you”
“Tell me that again” he grinned
“Please carl I need you inside of me”
At this, he switched your position once again.
“Bend over,spread your legs”
You immediately did so, becoming more impatient as the seconds passed, as he got all the way undressed
He gradually slid into you groaning. You felt like you entered heaven right then and there. Once he filled you up he began thrusting at a fast pace.
“Carl!” you whimpered into the air. You thought about this moment a million times while giving yourself pleasure.
He stretched you out perfectly, rubbing right against your sweet spot.
“Damn, you’re so tight.” he said in absolute euphoria
He put one hand on your hip, and the other found your hair, tugging lightly.
You ground into his dick matching each thrust. The stimulation became too much all too fast. Your mouth gaped open and you closed your eyes.
You looked back him trembling from how much ecstasy this was giving you.
“God right there” Your stomach began to tense up
“Are you close?”
“Yes”
At this he grabbed your arm to bring it down to your clit, guiding your fingers in circular motions on your clit. At that moment he came inside of you causing you to cry out and reach your peak. Once again shockwaves went through you and you melted into pleasure.
“Oh my god” you said falling onto your stomach as you catch your breath “We need to do this all the time”
Carl rolled you over onto your back, and connected your lips for a lazy kiss.
“Definitely”
A/n!!
I feel like I peaked in writing two weeks ago but I’m trying 😭😭☻︎ anyway I see on the poll that yall want a part two for friends with benefits. But I saw a reblog that says all and so I’m probs gonna do all but fwb first
#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes fic#carl grimes fluff#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes#carl grimes angst#carl grimes smut#carl grimes x you#carl grimes you#carl grimes imagine#carl grimes imagines
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Ghosts in Love
-> Suna Rintaro x Reader
Chapter 1: In the Meat and Dairy Isle
Summary: Amidst shared streets and familiar alleys, chance encounters with your ex at grocery stores or parks evolve into shopping together and sharing park benches.
Loosely inspired by the poem "Ghosts in Love" by Carl Sandburg
Chapter Warning: exes, domestic angst lmao
Words: 1k words
Taglist: Open
Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist
You and Suna Rintaro have purchased tickets for a concert that is almost a year away.
Neither of you have canceled the booking for those tickets. Neither of you have tried to sell it off. It just lies there in the pile of your dusty emails. No attempt is made to delete it. You just let it make a home there, catching dust until you decide to reopen and read it again. And again.
It’s been 7 months since the two of you have broken up and you're wondering if you really need to get rid of them. You only mean, things have significantly mellowed down to a point where you go grocery shopping together, in a manner of speaking.
You still live in the same neighbourhood as him, so days of running into him at the grocery store, the park, or the laundromat have turned into days of shopping together, sharing a park bench, or using the same washing machine if there’s room. Cheaper that way, the two of you reason out.
So you've decided to bring it up at your next weekly run-in.
Except, you don’t see him all week. Or the week after that.
It’s odd but you don’t ruminate, you don’t have the time to. It’s the end of the month and you have deadlines that keep swamping up all over your calendar. And you also have a company ball to prepare for.
"Hey," he says, bopping your cold nose. You think that must have been instinct, because he brings his hand back down almost immediately at the touch. Like it stung to you, or that he's simply repulsed.
But you see him again, on a gloomy day. It’s raining on and off and everything is sticky. You’re sweating but you’re also cold as you stand opposite him in the meat and dairy aisle of the grocery store. His hair has grown a little, and it cascades across his face like a flood of dark water.
Your gaze is now drawn to the yogurt section as you look for the brand you usually use. A soft pink package. He lingers behind you through this, and you’re conscious of his movements. You wonder if he can see right through you, but it's a thought that only lasts for a split moment. He never really did understand you that well, you think.
"Haven't seen you in a while," you remark glibly as you toss a can of milk into your basket.
But it's a lot more intense in your head, and you find that your defences are back up. Why? You aren't sure, but you strongly believe that you will find out today.
“Yeah,” he says. You wait for a moment until you realize he isn’t going to explain himself. He doesn't have to after all.
“How have you been?” you try to change the topic.
“Fine, a bit restless. We haven’t had practices for a while,” he says. You proceed to basket the yogurt, along with some cheese.
You’re both sitting in a park now, just about to part ways before he says, “I went on a date.”
You hum in response.
—
The evening passes by as the two of you slip into the inevitable flow of a conversation.
You’re finally grateful you braced yourself for the inevitable.
You can’t say it doesn’t hurt, but it only hurts like a sting, rather than a typhoon. Right now, you’re too muddled with questions. Questions you don’t have the right to ask.
You don’t say anything.
A beat later, you ask, “Why are you telling me this?”
“I–I really don’t know actually,” he chuckles, and for the very first time, you hate it.
You hate the way his cheeks hollow into soft undefined dimples, you hate the crinkle at the edge of his eyes, and most of all you think you hate him in this moment.
“What?” It comes out before you can stop it, and nurture it into something more mellow — but right now, your anger seeps through your mouth and spits onto his face.
“Okay. Um, I really did need to leave so,” you say, and with a swoop you push yourself up.
This time you move quicker, walking away to leave but he stops you. His hand comes up to clutch your wrist. It's not tight enough for you to not walk away but you stop.
“I’m sorry,” he says and he seems genuine, which makes you hate him even more.
“It’s okay, Rin.” You say, because you could nurture your anger into something different. You’re definitely not okay, but you can pretend you think. For a bit, until you no longer have to pretend.
“Please, ca—just sit with me.” He says, and the wind blows, sending a chill down your back but you sit down anyway because you’ve never truly been good at telling him no. Not when it mattered, at least.
“Thank you,” he mutters.
You don’t speak for the rest of the time. The two of you just sit there, and your anger dies and it dies, and you almost forget about all of it, because this is nice right?
This is comfortable and familiar, and it makes you wish you could turn time back, at least in your head. But it’s abruptly met with a stop, when he speaks again, “It was bad.”
“I figured,” you say.
You hum, urging him to continue. Reluctant but ready.
“The date, I mean," he elaborates.
“I don’t think I’m over you yet,” he says. “It’s killing me just a bit, I think.” He tries to soften the sentence with a chuckle.
“I think that would kill me more,” he says soft as a whisper, you could barely hear it. It almost made you assume it was just the wind playing tricks on you.
“Want me to change neighbourhoods so you can move on then?”
Your words come out sounding a bit condescending but you have a soft edge to your voice, a lilt of humour if you will, like it’s amusing that you would ever do something like this for him. Would you?
“Anyway, it should be you if one of us is moving,” you say.
“Well, I was here first. It’s only fair,” you say, firmly.
“Me? No way,” he says, his pitch rising. “It’s closer to practice, and the home office."
He doesn’t say anything for a bit. You were here first, you were more in tune with this area than he was. Most of his favourite things about this neighbourhood are borrowed, he realizes. They're all yours.
At that, he feels a bit empty, “That’s actually fair.” He adds, “I’d rather neither of us have to move. I’d rather us be friends.”
“Me too, Rin.” You smile at him.
Only you can’t help but think about how it sounds like a distant fantasy, reminiscent of dream-addled childhood dreams where you thought of driving yourself across the country. You reassure yourself because you can drive now at least.
#if you saw this before#no you didn't#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#suna rintaro oneshot#suna rintaro fic#suna rintaro#suna rintarou#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintarou x you#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu series#haikyuu angst#suna rintaro x y/n#suna rintaro x reader angst#suna rintaro x reader fluff#suna rintaro x reader series#haikyuu x reader smut
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Pet Shop Boys' song picks for various radio interviews for Nonetheless
BBC Radio 2 with Jo Whiley (April 25, 2024)
Chris
Black Beauty theme (childhood song)
Bedsitter by Soft Cell
Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now by McFadden & Whitehead (death song)
Neil
The Young Ones by Cliff Richard and the Shadows (childhood song)
Bedsitter by Soft Cell
Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis by Ralph Vaughan Williams (death song)
BBC Radio 6 with Lauren Laverne (April 26, 2024)
Chris
Was That All It Was by Jean Carn
This Time Baby by Jackie Moore
Native New Yorker by Odyssey
Last Night A DJ Saved My Life by InDeep
Neil
Borderline by Madonna
I Want You by Marvin Gaye
Born Slippy by Underworld
Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin
Greatest Hits Radio with Jackie Brambles (April 28, 2024)
Chris
Baby Love by The Supremes
For Once in My Life by Glen Campbell
Rhythm is a Dancer by Snap!
Neil
Girl Don't Come by Sandie Shaw
Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin
Unfinished Sympathy by Massive Attack
BBC Radio 3 with Jess Gillam (June 8, 2024)
Neil
Ich Habe Genung (Cantata No 82) by J.S. Bach
Générique by Miles Davis
Symphonia Virginum: O Dulcissime Amator by Hildegard von Bingen
September Song by Kurt Weill; sung by Lotte Lenya
Tracks of My Years with Vernon Kay (June 9, 2024)
Chris
Stop! In the Name of Love by The Supremes
Fame by Irene Cara
Never Give You Up by Sharon Redd
Let Me Love You For Tonight by Kariya
A Love So Beautiful by Roy Orbison
Neil
I Am The Walrus by The Beatles
Papa Was A Rollin' Stone by The Temptations
Do Anything You Wanna Do by Eddie and the Hot Rods
This Is Not America by David Bowie
Unfinished Sympathy by Massive Attack
Artists in Residence - Queer (Nov. 11, 2024)
Homosexuality by Modern Rocketry
Smalltown Boy by Bronski Beat
Walk On The Wild Side by Lou Reed
I Was Born This Way by Carl Bean
Dizzy by Olly Alexander
Shoot Your Shot by Divine
Menergy by Patrick Cowley
Streets of Philadelphia by Bruce Springsteen
Never Give You Up by Sharon Redd
Hideous by Oliver Sim (ft. Jimmy Somerville)
In the Evening by Sheryl Lee Ralph
If Love Were All by Judy Garland
Artists in Residence - Producers (Nov. 12, 2024)
I'm So Hot For You by Bobby O
Hey DJ by Worlds Famous Supreme Team (Stephen Hague)
Slave To The Rhythm by Grace Jones (Trevor Horn)
I Like You (Shep Pettibone Mix) by Phyllis Nelson (Shep Pettibone)
Point of No Return by Exposé (Lewis Martineé)
Axel F by Harold Faltermeyer
Hold That Sucker Down - Builds Like a Skyscraper Mix by OT Quartet (Rollo)
Balcony Scene from Romeo + Juliet by Craig Armstrong
So Hard - D Morales Red Zone Mix by Pet Shop Boys (David Morales)
The Loving Kind by Girls Aloud (Xenomania)
Say You Will by Kanye West (Andrew Dawson)
It's Automatic by Zoot Woman (Stuart Price)
The Meeting Place by The Last Shadow Puppets (James Ford)
Artists in Residence - Miserablism (Nov. 13, 2024)
Has Anyone Ever Written Anything For You by Stevie Nicks
One Day I'll Fly Away by Randy Crawford
Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths
Baltimore by Nina Simone
Alfie by Cilla Black
Everybody's Got To Learn Sometime by The Korgis
Nothing Compares 2 U by Sinéad O'Connor
Parlez-moi de Lui by Françoise Hardy
By The Time I Get To Phoenix by Glen Campbell
Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology) by Marvin Gaye
I Don't Want To Hear It Anymore by Dusty Springfield
I'm Not In Love by 10cc
Let's Stay Together by Tina Turner
I Can't Give Everything Away by David Bowie
Artists in Residence - Remixes (Nov. 14, 2024)
Girls & Boys (Pet Shop Boys Remix) by Blur
Young Offender - Jam and Spoon Trip-O-Matic Fairytale Mix by Pet Shop Boys
Hallo Spaceboy (Pet Shop Boys Remix) by David Bowie
Flamboyant (Michael Mayer Kompakt Mix) by Pet Shop Boys
Insanely Alive (Pet Shop Boys Radio Edit) by Wolfgang Tillmans
Miserablism (Moby Electro Mix) by Pet Shop Boys
Queen of Ice (Pet Shop Boys 7" Mix) by Claptone
I Don't Know What You Want But I Can't Give It Anymore (Peter Rauhoffer's Roxy Anthem Mix) by Pet Shop Boys
Think Of A Number (Pet Shop Boys Magic Eye 12" Remix) by Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds
Can You Forgive Her? (M.K. Remix) by Pet Shop Boys
Love Comes Quickly (Shep Pettibone Mastermix) by Pet Shop Boys
Dancing Star (Solomun Remix) by Pet Shop Boys
A Red Letter Day (Trouser Enthusiasts Autoerotic Decapitation Mix) by Pet Shop Boys
#pet shop boys#psb#ive been meaning to do this but then new interviews kept popping up 😭#anyway proof chris is also a romantic skjddk
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everything okay with her?
As I was walking around outside I noticed Carl talking with his dad Rick, “Is everything okay with her?” Rick asks as he puts the duffel bag into the trunk of the car.
As Carl was helping his dad he was also listening but was also not at the same time, he was still thinking about that moment between you and him earlier in the library.
“Yeah she’s okay just tired thats all,” Carl flashes his dad a small smile and continues to pack up with his dad.
- earlier in the library -
“Y/N hun, dont forget to put up the books after your done okay!” Carol says as she smiles and walks out with everybody else, I was left in the library reading this old dusty comic that I found I thought I was the only one in there but..
“Hey Y/N, do you have any book recommendations since you’re in here a lot?” I turn around and smile nodding my head as Carl watches me walk over to this shelf of old books.
I run my hand over all the books and finally land on the one that I thought was great, “Heres a good one, this one made me so happy at the end but I wont spoil it!” I hand over the book to him and he grabs it out my hand.
He smiles as he looks over at me, as I was about to walk away he grabs my hand and turns me around placing his soft lips onto mine. My eyes widen as he pulls away.
He looks at me like he is concerned and I just smile as my cheeks turn into a shade of red and his does as well, as we we’re both standing there Rick walks in.
“Hey- oh sorry if I interrupted something we need to get going if we’re going to want to come back in time I will meet you both at the car!” Rick smiles as he walks out and shuts the door.
As we both finally snap to realization, Carl asks me “Are you going to come?” I smile and say “I cant i’ve got to help beth remember” I let out a small chuckle as I say bye to him.
He walks out and heads towards his dad.
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