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sleepyangelkami · 1 year ago

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BRO I NEEDDD MORE OF PERVERTED!!!! OMG LIKE YOUR MIND>>>>>

PERVERTED III c.grimes

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 3.6K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - after the perverted thoughts consume carl whole, he realises he needs to act on them and soon finds out that you need him to act on them just as badly.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, heavy innocence kink, corruption kink, pervert!carl, fingering, dom!carl, sub!reader, size kink, pussy eating, cum eating, aged up characters, thigh riding-ish, manipulative carl, praise kink, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

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after that night in your bedroom, carl was downright desperate.

he realised that he needed to act upon his thoughts before it drove him over the edge of insanity. but there you were, prancing around in your little skirts and dresses, ditzy as ever. how was he ever supposed to explain his need to you?

that was just it, he was going to have to show you.

carl had been your best friend for a long time. you could trust him with anything in the world and carl would know if you'd ever done anything. that was the beauty in it. your innocence was bliss.

you were so innocent to the corrupt minds around you, not a single notion of the horrid thoughts of others. not a clue in your mind of just what carl wanted to do to you. no what he needed to do to you.

he knew he was going to have to ease you into it.

the first time carl had let you feel anything was during a rainy night of alexandria. the clouds were dull and full, slapping down on the outside windows. rick and michonne were on yet another supply run, no surprise there, and you and carl had been put in charge of taking care of judith.

it wasn't until she had been laid down asleep in bed that carl began to shift his mind back to you.

the clouds dulled until they were long gone. the night sky had settled in.

the tv displaying pretty images illuminated the room as you sat on carl's lap. when he'd asked if you'd like to sit there, it came as no surprise. you'd sat on carl's lap tonnes of times. whether it was just you two alone, sitting on the bed or perhaps you were in public, choosing to sit on his thigh rather than the bench occupied by the others.

however, what you didn't know was carl had much more in store for you than just watching the stupid movie that was playing.

you were engrossed in the flashing pictures, watching as each changed to another. you were the type of person to pay all your attention to one thing at a time, finding it hard to focus on more than one.

that was when your attention shifted.

it was a mere, 'innocent', bounce of carl's knee.

he did it as some sort of a test. he'd waited until you were so interested in the movie to do it. your two thighs had splayed at either side of his own. he'd waited until your cunt was snug on the jeans of his leg to rub it gently against you.

and by the sudden breath that left your lips, he deemed that you were almost as satisfied as he was.

nevertheless, you shook the feeling. you assumed the boy beneath you was merely trying to get comfortable so you tried to do the same, writhing yourself in the slightest.

that was when the smallest of whimpers left your mouth. with wide eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, hoping carl hadn't heard. "you okay?" he spoke softly in your ear, alerting you that he had heard.

only, you weren't trying to do anything wrong. like i said, you'd sat on carl's lap tonnes of times. but this time seemed... different. you were suddenly hyper aware of your skirt that was riding up ever so slightly and the way that fixing your position on his leg felt... good?

being in an apocalypse and all, you never really got too much education on... down there.

that was what carl was for, you supposed. he was basically your teacher in everything, any question you had went directly to him.

but what you did know was that parts like that were private and not to be shared. which is why you merely let out a small 'mhm' to indicate that you were, in fact, okay.

"alright." he mumbled back, his voice low as if not to disturb the serenity of the room.

you let a breath out, relaxing once more onto his leg.

carl knew he could have stopped there, letting you be all confused for the rest of the evening on just what that feeling you had was. but he didn't know how much you'd taken in, he needed to make sure that the feeling you felt was going to stick.

which was why he waited mere seconds before bouncing his leg again, like a kid in class riddled with ADHD.

you'd seen carl bouncing his leg like a maniac many times before. he'd do it under a table when he was nervous or angry or anything really. he often cracked his knuckles even when there was no air left to crack and shook his legs like there was no tomorrow. carl was always moving.

so how could you tell him to stop?

what would you even say?

did you even want him to stop?

there was an odd feeling in your stomach as he continued to bounce his leg up and down, hitting smoothly against your covered area. your breathing picked up but you did everything in your will to steady it.

some called carl grimes an ADD nightmare, this was a normal thing for him.

why was it suddenly not so normal for you?

perhaps it was the way his chin gently rested on your shoulder, gentle breath hitting against your neck or the way his hands soothed around your waist, his own calloused hands against your gentle skin where your satin dress lay on top.

the skirt of your dress bounced with every bounce of his leg too, exposing more of your thighs with each steady movement.

he was calculating and gentle, as if he knew you were becoming dizzy.

your throat itched too. you couldn't fathom why though you had a feeling it was a noise trying to crawl out.

you couldn't so much as stop yourself before your hands outstretched onto his thigh, stopping his movements.

he did so with the slightest smirk on his lips, knowing he'd gotten you exactly where you wanted. the way your thighs gently shook around him, you wouldn't so much as turn around. oh yes, you'd definitely felt it.

before he could question you in that gentle, condescending tone, the front door could be heard unlocking.

"gotta get my jacket." was the mumble that fell from your mouth as you helped yourself off of the boy's leg, grasping the pretty coat that sat on the other couch, where you'd originally been sitting. carl got up too, glancing down to his thigh. it was a wonder that there wasn't a large wet splotch on his jeans.

shortly after, rick and michonne entered the house, looking tired as ever. they asked a couple questions about judith, making sure you'd both been taking care of her right before they found themselves stating that they were heading up to bed.

carl gave somewhat of a disgusted look to the way they were looking at eachother. he din't even want to imagine what they'd be getting up to the minute they stepped into the bedroom.

"you sure you don't wanna stay the night?" he questioned, walking you to the front door of his home. you didn't live too far away which was the only reason he was letting you walk out in the dark alone. with his luck, he'd see you getting settled into your house while he still stood at the door.

you looked up at him with slightly wide eyes, you looked a little dazed. your hands were holding eachother behind your back, ignoring the feeling throbbing through your cunt. how had he done something so simple and left you feeling like this? "mhm." you hummed.

he gave you a look. "and you're positive you're okay?" tilting his head. "you seem a little off." he knew exactly why you were off.

but you weren't going to let anything on. "no, i'm okay." nodding your head, trying to convince both him and yourself.

"you know you can talk to me about anything, right baby?" he stepped forward, his words a little quieter as he spoke to you. his eyes flickered down to your bottom lip between your top teeth. "anything at all..."

you looked like you were contemplating, unsure if it was exactly appropriate to share with anyone even if it was just your best friend.

though your eyes quickly turned back to rick who was now standing in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water. "I'm okay." you quickly quipped.

rick turned around, swallowing the water. "you off, y/n?" you nodded, swallowing thickly. "right, night then, and thanks again for watching judith."

"anytime." you mumbled back, eyes flickering up to carl. "g'night, carl."

"night, angel." and so, you left.

the sky rose just as soon as it had gone down. carl hadn't steadied his movements since. hours passed, merging into days and carl was getting braver by the second. he couldn't help it, you were like putty, just so easy to mold.

by the time the saturday sleepover rolled around again, the boy was near ecstatic.

he'd gotten you exactly where he wanted in many ways, with little fluttering touches and words whispered gently, that could have been taken in any way. but he must say, his favourite place to have you was sat atop his thigh, gently bumping against it as he shook it from the ground.

he did it again now, maggie and glenn were long gone on yet another supply run, stocking up on the foods. they wouldn't be home until the next morning, possibly the morning after that.

but there simply wasn't anything else carl could think about other than the girl sat perched on his thigh. your hands were near your stomach, fiddling with themseleves, pulling on your fingers gently, contemplating.

carl didn't stop the bounce of his knee, moving it so accurately that you could feel a pool forming in your panties. you'd never felt like this before. and you were sure that carl knew this too.

this was the longest he'd ever done it, he should have stopped ages ago, knowing he didn't wish to push you too far. however, your little shaky breaths had his head spinning, he couldn't stop, not now.

you were contemplating asking him to stop. something about his shaking leg beneath you had you feeling awfully funny. but you couldn't decipher if it was a good feeling or not. besides, you couldn't understand why it was that his moving leg had your head feeling dizzy.

"carl?" your mouth got the better of you. it was supposed to come out as a steady question, voice stable, however, it came out more breathless than you'd intended, a slight whine to the back of your throat.

carl's hands had gently been resting against your waist. "hm?" he took the hint to stop, though.

beneath you, his leg froze.

your mind went sort of fuzzy then, that was when you realised it had, in fact, been a good feeling. your mind raced back to moments ago when the wet patch was forming on your satin panties. you couldn't even register what was going on before you slid yourself against his leg, not once, not even twice.

"sweetheart?" his voice was soft, calculated. it had you realising what you were doing, but still, your aching cunt dragged across his jeaned leg. "what're you doing? hm?"

a breath fell from your lips. you gently willed yourself to stop your movements before turning your face to the boy. you had pinched brows, lips bitten, desperation written all over your face. "carl, i―" the words left had you frowning.

carl merely rubbed his fingers against your waist. "somethin' wrong?" he questioned softly. "'s just me, you can tell me, baby."

and suddenly, it was your last straw.

but carl had already known that.

he'd moved his hands so gently around you for the past week, bounced you against his thigh every chance he got and whispered meak things to you, calling you such pretty names. he knew sooner or later you were bound to snap.

"you..." you let out a sigh, eyes avoiding the boy. "you can't laugh."

without a second thought, carl's fingers hooked themselves beneath your chin, angling your face up and forcing you to look at him. "'m not gonna laugh at you, angel." and his comforting features looked as though they were telling nothing but the truth. "jus' tell me what's going on."

you sighed, trying to avert your eyes. "everytime you bounce your leg... it feels funny." you tried to keep your voice as low as possible, throat closing and your cheeks heating up. it was hard trying to keep your composure in font of him, especially when talking about such a private thing.

"yeah?" seemingly unfazed by what you'd told him. "where's it feel funny?" again, your cheeks heated up, only this time you were sure that you were as red as a tomato. "baby, i can't help you if you don't tell me."

and you were sure you needed his help. after all, he was the only one that had made you feel so... worked up. instead of uttering a word, you practically whined before pushing your head into his shirt covered chest. you grasped his hand, sucking in as you guided it downwards.

carl couldn't help but smirk as you moved his hand to cup your shorts-covered cunt. you whimpered at the touch of his hand, quickly moving your own away, as if scared you were going to mess something up.

carl placed his palm against the pale shorts, his thumb moving up towards your clit and gently drawing circles. you whined loudly. "here's where it feels funny, huh?" you nodded your head quickly, breaths falling ragged as his gentle, tight circles moved against your clit. "y'gonna answer me?"

"y-yes." coming out as more of a moan rather than an answer. you were suddenly thankful that maggie and glenn were nowhere to be found in the house.

there was a sudden smile splayed on his lips. "good girl." he mumbled, sending electric shocks through your body and right down to your aching pussy. you couldn't understand how two simple words were enough to have you rutting your hips against the boys hands.

though instantly, your face heated again. embarrassment flooded you as you realised what was happening, stinging tears finding it's way to your eyes. "carl." you spluttered out, whimpering as you did so. carl merely shushed you, his free hand coming down to land on the back of your hair, holding your head close to it's place on his chest.

"wh's wrong, baby?" he waited for a response, all you could give him was a second whimper. "want me to stop?"

"no!" was your much too enthusiastic response that had his lips curving upwards. so you did want it as much as he did. "no, please don't stop."

"then tell me what you want." you shied away, cheeks evidently rosy and pink. but you didn't utter a word, much too sheepish.

suddenly, the feeling he was giving to your clit completely stopped. his hand still hung low but they didn't touch you. the whine you let out had your eyes turning glassy. he reminded you that he'd asked you to tell him what you wanted. but you could barely hear his voice now, mind too clouded with the previous pleasure. "f-felt..." your own hand attempted to replace his, rubbing at your covered cunt but it didn't give you the pleasure his had.

you felt his hand reach up and snap your wrist between his fingers, stopping your movements. "you wanna feel good, huh?" you nodded your head, tears stinging. "then the only hands that get to touch you are mine, understood?" you nodded before he squeezed on your wrist, not hard enough to hurt. "understood?"

"yes." was the breathless word as his fingers let go of your wrist.

"now, tell me what you want." almost instantly, his stern voice had disappeared and turned into one of softness again. it was almost scary how quickly he could turn from one demeanour to another. but you were much too hazy now to question anything.

you breathed heavily, cheeks warm. but carl just waited, his eyes looking at you full of admiration, a stark contrast to the stern look he'd had before. "i want..." he waited, not rushing you, patiently. "want you to make me feel good." your voice was so quiet, so small and you were looking anywhere but his face. you thought it was somewhat awkward in a sense, more scary really. he'd shrug it off for your natural shyness that simply never went away.

"see?" his voice gentle and loving. "wasn't hard, was it?" you shook your head no despite it being the hardest thing you'd done all year. "now get onto your back, angel." you did what he said, not wishing to disappoint him. he followed by climbing on top of you, watching your doe eyes slightly widen.

a breath.

he was so close, lips practically brushing against your own. you'd known carl a very long time but you were sure this was the closest he'd ever been. "'m gonna kiss you, okay?" you nodded, slightly unsure. you'd never been kissed before and you had no idea that it related to the feeling that you'd felt earlier. "it'll all make sense in a second, sweetheart." he mumbled, hands on your waist. "just... relax."

and suddenly, his lips were on yours.

his lips were even softer than they looked. and if that was what you thought of his lips, you could only imagine what he thought of yours. he kissed you gently, open mouthed kissing with his tongue slipping past yours.

now you understood.

it definitely related to the feeling.

as he was kissing you, you had the sudden urge to roll your hips upwards, into his own. carl had this way of making you feel so comfortable that you didn't have to worry the outcome. so you did. rolling your hips gently yet desperately.

you felt him let out a harsher breath into your mouth. his lips moved from your mouth. you felt him press a kiss to the corner of your lips, then to your chin and down to your neck. the feeling of him sucking against the supple skin had a whimper falling from your lips, then another and a long stretched whine.

his lips moved away and his tongue soothed down the hurt skin.

you supposed, you knew what sex was. it was an intimate form of love on your partner. was that what you and carl were going to do? sex? carl wasn't your boyfriend but he was the only one in the entire world you'd felt such a connection to. you supposed, if anyone was to have sex with you, it may as well be carl grimes.

"sweetheart." he breathed against your neck. "keep making sounds like that 'n i won't be able to last." to last? for what?

you didn't even care what he was saying, just the sound of his voice was enough to have you reeling. "carl, please just..."

"shh." he hushed you, practically cooing. "s'needy." before his hands moved back down towards your shorts. "can i take this off?" though he wasn't just grasping the band of your shorts but of your panties too. however, you couldn't seem to care. nodding enthusiastically before helping him guide the material off your body.

carl's breath hitched in his throat. he'd seen you before, he'd seen you when you were sleeping and he plunged a finger inside you, tasted you even. even so, it was like seeing you for the first time all over again.

he could see you red as a tomato above him, covering your face. you'd known carl forever, but something about being nude with him over you on your couch seemed like something a best friend shouldn't do. carl didn't allow the shyness to continue, peppering gentle kisses across the skin of your face. "hey, hey." gently removing your hands. "you're beautiful."

your hands suddenly pawed at the end of his shirt. if you were going to be bare, he should too, right? "can you..?"

"wan't me to take of my shirt, baby?" you only nodded, pressing your lips together. he nodded himself before placing his hands at the end of his shirt, bringing it up and above his head, tossing it off the couch. "your turn." he mumbled, pressing kisses to your neck before grasping the bottom of your own shirt. you allowed him to pull it over your own head.

it was no surprise that there was no bra found underneath, your perky tits bouncing gently. he moved his lips downwards, sucking on one and grasping the other between his fingers, flicking over your pretty nipple. you whined, back arching off the couch and hands finding his hair, tugging at the strands.

his lips popped over your nipple, letting go with a string of spit attatching the two of you. he pushed his large hand onto your chest, thumb at one end of your tits and other fingers at the other, pushing them together. you were so small compared to him, it had his own mind reeling. "so fucking pretty."

"carl." there was desperation in his eyes. the amount of times you had uttered his name would have made anyone think you were reciting it as if he were god himself. "need you." you didn't even know what you meant yourself. all you did know was that you needed him, in whatever way possible.

"i know, pretty girl." his fingers traced your cheek, cupping it ever so softly. "'m gonna touch you, okay?"

nervously, you found yourself nodding. you knew by him touching you, the ache would go away. how you knew that, you were unsure. perhaps it was because you put so much trust in carl to do what was right.

you expected the soft flutter of his long fingers, the gentle tracing of the pads against your skin. what you hadn't been expecting was the mouth that suddenly landed on your core.

as if on cue, your back arched against the couch once more. a moan of both surprise and pleasure fell from your lips. you felt the vibrations of a chuckle throughout your body, from him. he'd been waiting for this moment for too long to let it slip from his fingers.

the foreign feeling of a face between your thighs had you writhing. you allowed his tongue to explore your cunt, whining and whimpering while your hands clung to his hair, overcome with a foreign pleasure.

never, had you felt this good in your entire life.

an eerie sense was embedded right in your stomach, telling you that this was all wrong. the feelings you felt and the way his hands moved against your body, it had to be wrong. but the pleasure of his tongue lapping against your cunt told you that no matter how hard he tried, nothing carl could do would ever be wrong.

you felt him insert a finger into your hole and you were sure you'd lost it.

"carl!" you moaned out, unsure what words to use. "carl―nughhh!" no words could grasp your tongue signifying how good it felt.

your wetness seeped onto his tongue, decorating it with your pretty juices, and his finger had a rim of white surrounding it, belonging to you. his face moved up from your pussy, glancing to your own face. your head was thrown back, eyes shut and reflection twisted. "i know, baby." pumping his finger in and out of you in quick motions. "feels good, huh?"

you nodded your head, babbling incoherently despite the fact that carl couldn't make out a single word you said. he nodded with a smirk, anyway.

this was so much better now that you were awake.

"uh huh?" he was practically testing you, your moans coming out strangled and harsh. "yeah, told you i'd fix it, huh?"

and boy, did he fix it.

the sensation grew and you began to get a sudden knotted feeling in your stomach. it was foreign, new and strange. but despite that, you were sure you'd felt it before. perhaps in a dream? one of which carl had remembered all too well.

a sudden panicked state came over you. "carl" you babbled out, a hint of worry in your voice.

carl placed his free hand on your thigh, gently rubbing against it and shushing you. "shh, shh, you can take it." his mouth travelling back to where you needed him the most.

you couldn't even give him a warning.

the orgasm fell over you before you could even register what was happening. your back practically lept from the couch, good thing carl's hand had been keeping your stomach steady against the material. mewls fell from your lips, shameful mewls that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

your legs shook from around his head, his name falling from your red and swollen lips like a prayer, fingers tight around his little curls.

finally, his head reappeared from it's place between your thighs, a grin on his face.

your eyes were low, sort of red. and he swore it was the prettiest sight he'd ever seen.

"feel good, huh?" pride on his smug face. he came up to meet your own by the arm of the couch, hand moving your hair past your ear.

you had this sinking, gnawing feeling as you glanced up at him. "but... what about you?" thinking that surely couldn't have made him feel good. you'd never experienced pleasure like that before, you were sure everyone in the world should get to experience it at least once.

"don't worry about me, sweet girl." peppering gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. "next time." he spoke despite his hand moving against his dick, straightening it out after his own cum leaked through his jeans.

he came in his pants because of you. again.

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kaayyyys · 12 days ago

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Hey there! I would like to ask for a request? I was wondering if you could do a Daryl angst. So it’s set in the prison because I like just like Daryl when they were back there. (Sorry for my bad English, it’s not my first language) so what I was thinking is that fem reader has a crush on Daryl so she’s always like around him and wanting to help him especially after they left Merle on the roof. Daryl then lashed out at her for being too clingy and needy which she then tearfully apologised and started avoiding him, when he’s around her, she would lower her head and scurried away from him. He felt bad for lashing out at her so he planned on apologising when she came back from a supply run but when she did came back, she is unconscious (or dead, up to you :3) because they were attacked by a random group, Rick held her in his arms while yelling for Hershel. The rest I’ll leave it to you, tag me if you’re finished. Thank you!❤️

Oh my god . I absolutely love this request. Sorry it took so long I wanted this to be as good as I could .

@yanokokuboo

Would you like a part two ?

The prison loomed against the Georgia sky, a stark monument to survival in a world overrun. Inside, amidst the ever-present tension and the ghosts of the fallen, a different kind of battle was being fought – the silent, internal struggle of a heart yearning for a connection it wasn’t sure it deserved. (Y/N) watched Daryl Dixon from across the yard, her gaze drawn to the lean strength of his form as he sharpened arrows, his brow perpetually furrowed in concentration. She’d admired him from afar since they’d arrived, captivated by his quiet intensity, his unwavering loyalty, and the aura of untamed wildness that clung to him.

After Merle had been left on that rooftop in Atlanta, something inside Daryl had seemed to break. He became even more withdrawn, more guarded. (Y/N), her heart aching for him, found herself drawn to his side, offering silent support, a comforting presence in the storm raging within him. She’d bring him water, offer to clean his crossbow, or simply sit nearby, mending clothes, the quiet rhythm of her needle a counterpoint to the turmoil radiating from him.

She knew he was a loner, a man who preferred the company of silence and the hunt to the chatter of others. But she hoped, foolishly perhaps, that her presence was a comfort, a small flicker of light in his darkness. She’d seen glimpses of a softer side – the way he protected Carol, the gruff tenderness he showed to Judith. Maybe, just maybe, she could break through the walls he’d built so high, brick by painful brick.

One sweltering afternoon, after a particularly grueling scavenging run, (Y/N) found Daryl cleaning his crossbow in the shade of the watchtower. She approached hesitantly, offering him a canteen of water. "Here," she said softly, "you must be thirsty."

Daryl snatched the canteen, his movements jerky, his eyes dark. He took a long swig, then slammed the canteen down on the concrete. "Why are you always around?" he growled, his voice rough. "You're like a damn shadow, always followin' me. I don't need babysitting."

The words hit (Y/N) like a physical blow. The air in her lungs seemed to evaporate, leaving her gasping for breath. She stared at him, bewildered and hurt. "I… I just wanted to help," she stammered, her voice trembling.

"Help?" He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. "I don't need your help! I don't need anyone's help! Just leave me alone!"

The anger in his voice was like a physical force, pushing her back, shrinking her spirit. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. This wasn’t the Daryl she’d imagined, the one she’d built up in her heart. This was a raw, wounded animal, lashing out in pain.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the words catching in her throat. "I... I didn't mean to bother you."

Turning, she fled, the tears streaming down her face, a silent testament to her shattered hopes. She didn't stop running until she reached her cell, collapsing on the thin mattress, the sobs wracking her body.

From that day forward, (Y/N) made a conscious effort to avoid Daryl. The hurt was too raw, the rejection too painful. She still admired him, still cared for him, but she couldn't bear to be near him, to risk another outburst, another shattering of her fragile heart. She focused on helping the others, tending to the garden, learning to defend herself. She tried to bury her feelings deep, to convince herself that what she felt for Daryl was just a fleeting infatuation, a silly crush.

Days turned into weeks. The prison life settled into a grim routine. (Y/N) noticed Daryl watching her, his gaze lingering longer than necessary. She saw a flicker of something in his eyes – regret, perhaps? – but she quickly looked away, unwilling to reopen the wound he’d inflicted.

Daryl, meanwhile, was wrestling with his own demons. He’d pushed (Y/N) away, lashed out at her kindness, and the guilt was eating at him. He saw her helping others, her laughter echoing in the yard, but her eyes never met his. She was polite, distant, a ghost of the girl who had once shadowed him with quiet devotion. He missed her presence, the unspoken understanding that had passed between them. He missed her.

He knew he had to apologize. He had to tell her he hadn’t meant to hurt her, that his anger was a reflection of his own inner turmoil, not a judgment of her. He planned to talk to her when she returned from the next supply run, to swallow his pride and beg for her forgiveness.

(Y/N) volunteered for the supply run, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the prison, to breathe fresh air, to feel the sun on her skin. She walked alongside Glenn and Maggie, the familiar weight of her rifle a comfort. The run was uneventful, but the emotional toll of the past weeks had taken its toll. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

On the way back, they were ambushed. A small group, desperate and crazed, emerged from the woods, brandishing knives and makeshift weapons. Glenn and Maggie fought bravely, but (Y/N), weakened and distracted, was quickly overwhelmed. She screamed as one of the attackers pinned her to the ground, the harsh fabric of his clothes scraping against her skin.

Hours stretched into an eternity. As dusk began to settle, casting long shadows across the prison yard, the gate creaked open. But it wasn't you who stumbled through. It was Rick, his face grim, his arms cradling a limp figure.

A strangled gasp escaped Daryl's lips as he recognized you. Your face was bruised and bloodied, your clothes torn. You were unconscious, your breathing shallow and ragged. Tears streamed down your face even in your sleep.

“Hershel!” Rick bellowed, his voice laced with panic. “Get Hershel, now!”

A wave of nausea washed over Daryl. He pushed through the gathering crowd, his heart pounding in his chest. What happened? Who did this to you? He saw the torn fabric of your shirt, the angry welts on your arms, and a white-hot rage ignited within him.

"What the hell happened?" Daryl roared, his voice a feral snarl. He grabbed a nearby survivor by the collar, his grip tight. "Who did this to her?"

The survivor stammered, "They… they were ambushed. A group of them… tried to take their supplies."

Daryl shoved him aside, his eyes fixed on your still form in Rick's arms. "Damn it!" he screamed, the raw anguish tearing through him. "Damn it all to hell!"

He watched as Hershel rushed forward, his face etched with concern. They gently lowered you onto a makeshift cot in the infirmary. Daryl hovered, his body trembling with a mixture of fear and fury.

"Get out of the way, Daryl," Rick ordered, his voice firm. "Hershel needs room to work."

"No!" Daryl refused, his voice defiant. "I ain't goin' nowhere."

He watched as Hershel examined your wounds, his movements swift and efficient. The silence in the room was broken only by your labored breathing and the occasional murmur from Hershel.

Daryl felt a wave of guilt wash over him, so potent it almost brought him to his knees. He had pushed you away, rejected your kindness, and now… now you were lying here, broken and bleeding. He had been so consumed by his own pain that he hadn't seen the danger lurking around you. He had failed to protect you.

"This is my fault," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "All my fault."

Rick placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip surprisingly gentle. "Don't do that, Daryl. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was!" Daryl snapped, shaking off Rick's hand. "I should have… I should have been there. I should have protected her."

He paced the small room, his frustration building with each passing moment. “Why wasn’t I there? Why did I let her go on that run?”

He knew, deep down, that his anger wasn't directed at Rick or Hershel or even the scavengers who had attacked you. It was directed at himself. He had pushed you away, silenced his growing feelings, and now he might lose you.

As Hershel continued to work, Daryl remained by your side, his eyes never leaving your face. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, his fingers trembling. He didn't know what the future held, but one thing was certain: he wouldn't let you go again. He would protect you, even if it meant facing his own demons head-on. He would spend the rest of his days trying to earn your forgiveness, to prove that he was worthy of your love. He just needed you to wake up

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tinyshyteacup · 20 days ago

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Taglist: @kellynickelsgirl00 @dixonsbridexx @yikes-myguy @blackwidownat2814 @euqsia @lliteratii @imadisneyprincessiswear @satata @smashleywow @misspendragonsworld @captain-shannon-becker @i-doutt-it @bookies16 @brianna-merlim @staley83 @insaneintheemembranev2 @dummylovewp

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TW: cussing, early seasons Daryl, angst, descriptions of walkers (Zombies), firearms, kidnapping, canon level racism, Merle, suggestive content (if you squint)

Part 14

Dead Weight - Part 15

The air inside the prison kitchen was cool and still, heavy with the scent of old cement and the faintest trace of woodsmoke from the nearby burn barrel outside.

The light filtering through the grimy, barred windows was silver and hazy, the sky not yet pinked with dawn.

A quiet hum of life stirred in the corners—the rustle of rats behind the walls, the soft creak of settling concrete.

Your hands worked methodically over the cracked countertop, flour dusting your knuckles as you rolled and shaped dense, pale rounds of dough.

Each motion was practiced but gentle, almost reverent. You’d never made hard-tack before the world ended, but you’d learned since.

It wasn’t about the taste—it was about lasting, about giving someone something to hold onto out there.

The flour was running low, so you measured every cup with care.

The salt, even more precious, was added with a pinch and a prayer.

Beth leaned against the edge of the counter, her long blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, humming quietly as Judith dozed in a wrap across her chest. She smiled faintly, watching you work.

“You always get so quiet when you’re bakin’,” Beth said softly, eyes warm.

You gave a slight shrug, not looking up.

“It helps me think,” you replied, brushing your wrist across your forehead. “And… I guess I wanted to make something for Daryl. For when he goes out again.”

Beth tilted her head, brows lifting with a teasing smile.

You flushed slightly, trying to busy your hands more than necessary with a stubborn fold of dough.

“I mean—He hunts for everyone. He should have something better to eat that'll keep.” You paused. “I just thought he might like it. Or… maybe he won’t. I don’t know.”

Beth’s smile softened into something quieter.

“He’ll like it.” she said with a youthful smile, looking almost like a regular teenager again.

Your eyes flicked to her. “He’s hard to read.”

“Yeah,” Beth said with a small, thoughtful nod. “But he’s not hard to reach. You just gotta speak a language he understands.”

“Like survival?”

“Like mumbling.” she giggled

You blinked, surprised at her teasing, even if he wasn't in the room.

You turned back to your task, more focused now, shaping each piece of hard-tack.

The long corridor of Cell Block C was bathed in a lazy golden hue, light filtering through the grimy upper windows in streaks that painted warm bands across the concrete floor. Dust motes danced lazily in the air, undisturbed save for the rhythmic creak of your boots as you slowly paced with Baby Judith nestled in your arms.

Your voice was soft, almost like breath, but the sound carried. The song wasn’t one anyone else here would recognize—an old tune from home, playful in melody, but tender the way you sang it.

"Mamma Papa say you should go to school, I don't know what for"

You pulled silly faces at the baby as you sang pacing across the landing in cell block C.

"Now that I've grown up and seen the world and all its lies ... What's the time Mr. Wolf? ... What's the time?"

Your accent gave the song a lilting rhythm, like a breeze through trees, foreign but warm.

Judith blinked up at you, eyelashes fluttering, then gave a yawn that nearly unseated her pacifier, the one Beth had found when she insisted on going on a run.

You smiled and adjusted the blanket around her small body, brushing a thumb over her forehead.

“You’re not foolin’ me, Lil Asskicker. I see those eyes. Wide awake.”

A pause. A small, fond sigh.

You kept walking slowly—thread bare socks on your feet padding silently on the concrete, her tiny fingers curled in your shirt. Your voice dipped to a hum again, hips rocking with the natural rhythm of comfort.

“Uncle Daryl’s gonna wanna see you when he gets back. So I'll cut you a deal I finish this song then you nap like a champion.”

You rocked her slightly as you continued the song.

"Oh oh-oh Mr Daddy long legs crawling up to the ceiling ... Has anyone seen the world and the state it's in it's ... never been this way before"

you whispered the last lyrics, brushing a fingertip along the curve of her cheek.

Your still not quite used to calling him Uncle Daryl, but it had slipped out naturally a few times now.

He wasn’t around to hear it anyway.

Or so you thought.

From the shadows at the far end of the hall, tucked between concrete pillars where the wall jutted out, Daryl had frozen halfway through slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. He wasn’t breathing right—like the wind had caught in his throat somehow.

Judith gave a quiet gurgle and finally relaxed, her tiny fists uncurling against your chest.

That’s when Merle stepped up beside his brother, holding back just long enough to hear the last line.

He gave a snort.

“Well, look at that,” Merle muttered, arms folded as he leaned one shoulder against the wall, voice pitched low.

Daryl didn’t move.

Merle side-eyed him, then looked back at you.

Daryl shot him a glare. “Don’t.”

Merle gave a smirk but didn’t back off.

“You’re just lurkin’ in the shadows like some damn stalker while Miss Peach Blossom sings bedtime songs about educational facilities and wolves. That ain’t exactly normal bedtime fare, by the way.”

Daryl scowled.

“She’s singin’ to Judith.”

“Uh-huh. And callin’ you ‘Uncle Daryl’ like she’s already knit you a Christmas sweater. You hear that part, lover boy?”

Daryl’s lip curled. “Ain’t like that.”

“Don’t piss on my leg and tell me it’s rainin’. You been hoverin’ like a hound since we got back. You don’t like folks, remember? So what’s different ‘bout her?”

Daryl turned his head just enough to look back toward the sound of your voice, still drifting faintly from the corridor.

“She’s just… good with the kid.”

“Sure,” Merle said, unconvinced. “Bet she’s real good with a lotta things.”

Daryl turned slowly, finally meeting Merle’s eyes. “You say any dumb shit to her—”

“What, you gonna hit me?” Merle smirked. “Relax. I ain’t gonna ruin it for you. Hell, I think it’s kinda sweet. Like watchin’ a feral cat try and cuddle up for the first time—don’t know what the hell it’s doin’, but it wants somethin’ real bad.”

Daryl shoved past him. “Tch, Jackass.”

“Yeah,” Merle called after him, still smirking. “But I ain’t blind.”

Daryl shot him a warning glare and turned away, footsteps heavy but quiet.

Merle stayed behind, watching you now with his arms still folded, head slightly tilted. He didn’t leer—surprisingly.

He just looked… curious. Like he was trying to puzzle out how someone so gentle could survive in a place like this.

“Huh,” he said under his breath, scratching his jaw. “Maybe baby brother’s got better taste than I thought.”

The grocery store was cracked open at the side like a split ribcage, vines and wildflowers creeping through broken windows. It smelled of dust, rust, and the distant rot of forgotten perishables. Light filtered through the grime-stained skylights in long shafts, illuminating drifting particles like golden ghosts.

You moved carefully down a narrow aisle labeled International Goods, stepping over shattered jars of pickled vegetables and powdered miso soup packets.

With Glen still banged up you'd agreed to help with the run.

Most shelves were bare—ravaged by desperate hands long ago—but in a tucked-away corner, half-hidden behind a tilted tin of coconut milk, sat one lonely can.

You blinked. Then smiled so wide your cheeks hurt.

"No fuckin' way.”

Your voice was a whisper of disbelief, laced with sudden, almost childlike delight. You picked it up reverently, wiping away grime with your sleeve.

The label—Vanilla Ice Cream & Espresso—was still intact, and the can was cool from the shadows, untouched.

You practically skipped out from the aisle, shaking the can excitedly in your hands.

You were grinning as you approached Merle and Daryl. Daryl was crouched near a pallet of bottled water, backpack slung over one shoulder. Merle was flicking through a pack of expired beef jerky, smirking when he saw your expression.

“What’s got you all lit up, sweetheart? Find a vibrator aisle I missed?”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling despite the jab.

“It’s from home,” you said, voice filled with excitement. “Tastes like vanilla ice cream and espresso.”

You cracked the can open with a hiss and a puff of air, giving it a swirl. Then you took a sip—and your entire body responded.

Eyes fluttered shut. Shoulders relaxed. A quiet, involuntary sound left your throat, somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

“Oh my god.”

Merle stared at you like you’d just given a performance. “Shit. Was it that good, sugar? Y'need a smoke after that.”

You laughed but stepped back as he reached his hand toward the can.

“Nah. You’d ruin it.”

He gave a wolfish grin. “Come on, girl, don’t be stingy.”

“No,” you giggled, dodging again. “You’re not allowed.”

Then, you turned to Daryl.

He hadn’t said a word. He just stood there, brow drawn slightly, watching the exchange like he wasn’t sure what planet he’d landed on. But when your eyes met his, something flickered.

The three of you fell into a steady rhythm, quickly packing what was needed and heading back towards the prison.

You cradling your can, when there was about a third left you nudged Daryl's arm gently and shook the can in his direction, a silent invitation.

Daryl blinked, hesitant.

You tilted the can toward him again, eyebrows raised, as you strode back to the prison.

His eyes dropped to the can, then back to your face. His mouth opened like he was going to argue—but he stopped himself. After a beat, he reached out, calloused fingers brushing yours as he took it.

And you could have sworn you saw a smile grace his usually stoic features.

The sun had dipped lower, painting long gold shadows across the prison yard. The fence rattled softly under a wind that smelled faintly of rain and smoke—two warnings in one.

You were both still sitting on that cracked patch of concrete, the one just out of view of the others but close enough to call for help if needed. Daryl had his knees up, arms draped over them, a twig between his fingers that he picked at absently—like a man with too many thoughts and no words to say them.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, voice low, almost rough. “If this Governor bastard shows up... and things go bad—real bad—there’s some stuff you needa know.”

You blinked and turned toward him, instantly on edge. “Okay.”

He didn’t look at you.

Just stared out through the fence, eyes scanning the distance like the threat might materialize right then.

“There’s a tunnel,” he said. “Behind the laundry room. Rick boarded it up, but pull it off and there’s space enough for someone to get through. Leads to the old generator pit.”

You tried to picture it. You’d seen it in the laundry room in passing, but never thought about what was behind it.

“Then what?” you asked softly.

“Then you run,” he said firmly, finally turning to face you. His eyes met yours dead-on. “Ain’t no lookin’ back. You get Beth, the baby, Carl if you can—but you get yourself out first.”

You flinched slightly at the weight of his tone.

“I’m can't just leave everyone—”

"Ain’t about leavin' everyone,” he snapped, then immediately looked away, jaw tightening. “Ain’t what I meant.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, the muscles in his arm taut with frustration.

“You—you gotta meet up with everyone in the forest,” he muttered.

You didn’t answer right away.

“You’re telling me how to survive,” you said finally. “You think it’ll come to that?”

He hesitated. Then gave a stiff nod.

“I seen what men like that do. And I sure as hell ain’t lettin’ you be a casualty.”

The words were harsh. But the way his brow furrowed? The tightness in his voice? That wasn’t anger.

That was fear.

Fear for you.

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat. “I’ll remember,” you whispered. “I promise.”

What neither of you noticed was the figure in the shadows beyond the metal grates of Cell Block C.

Merle.

Leaning just out of sight, arms crossed, one boot braced against the cinderblock wall.

His expression unreadable.

Not smirking for once.

Just listening.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath.

“Shit’s gettin’ real complicated.”

Merle’s boots crunched lightly across the yard gravel. He avoided the lit spots, staying to the shadows. In his pack, a bottle of whiskey, a hand-sketched route, and a plan that no one asked for.

“Ain’t gonna let this blow back on Daryl,” he muttered.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew the Governor was a lunatic. But maybe—maybe—Merle could get ahead of it. Talk man to man. Bluff. Bargain. Sacrifice, if he had to.

He didn’t tell Daryl. He didn’t tell anyone.

Merle Dixon never asked permission.

Daryl had gone quiet again, barely saying a word since sundown. You were helping Carol slice beans at the table when Glen came jogging in.

“Anyone seen Merle?”

The group fell still. Daryl, who had been standing near the doorway with his arms crossed, lifted his head like a wolf catching scent.

“Why?” he asked flatly.

“He’s gone. The front gate opened around an hour ago, but nobody radioed it in. Beth thinks she saw Merle by the watchtower.”

Your blood ran cold.

You met Daryl’s eyes, and there it was again—that look.

Alarm.

Panic.

Restraint.

He pushed off the doorframe with a curse.

“Stupid son of a bitch—”

“What would he do?” you asked, rising to your feet. “Where would he go?”

Daryl didn’t answer, but the answer was obvious.

The Governor.

He was going to try to talk to him. Alone. Like a damn fool.

Daryl stalked toward the door, grabbing his crossbow with a tight snap of motion. You followed without thinking.

"Wait—what if he’s trying to help?” you asked. “He heard us talking. Maybe he thought—”

"Ain’t help,” Daryl growled, rounding on you. “It’s about Merle. He does whatever the hell he wants, don’t think about nobody else.”

He looked at you for one long, heavy beat, then turned and left—boots thudding against the concrete, urgency in every line of his body.

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daryltwdixon · 5 months ago

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REQUESTS MASTERLIST (open)

Ground Rules:

Characters:

TWD: Daryl Dixon x Reader, Negan Smith x Reader, Rick Grimes x Reader.

TLOU: Joel Miller x Reader

I will not write character x character

✭ = smut

Ages: please do not request these old men taking the virginity of an 18 year old girl. not my vibe and surely not my men

Themes: I'm happy to write angst, fluff, smut, and nsfw

Be flexible. While I love receiving your ideas, I may put my own spin on them to fit my writing style and inspiration. Trust that I’ll honor the essence of your request while making it work in a way that feels authentic to me and my writing.

No timelines. I work on requests when inspiration strikes, and there’s no set schedule for when they’ll be completed. Some take me days or weeks to write, others come to me within the hour. I always want to ensure each story gets the attention it deserves.

Please understand that not every request will be my cup of tea! I reserve the right to decline prompts that don’t align with my interests or style.

off limits kinks: scat / piss, incest

thank you for thinking of me to make your ideas come to life!

Double Lines: Daryl Dixon x You

"Hi it's me lol my request is Daryl and fem reader are a couple and they finally decided to try for a baby. When Rick returns he is proud of Daryl for everything he's done with the group as well as being a father figure to Judith and can't believe he's finally a father to his own kid. Just fluff lol up to you if there's a pregnancy loss or not in their journey to try to conceive, baby gender is up to you. Names for baby are DJ (Daryl Jr) or Elizabeth after Beth since she was your close friend as well as Daryl's"

Live-In Bodyguard: Daryl Dixon x You

"hi!! i was wondering if you could write a little story where y/n and daryl were paired to live together when they first arrived at Alexandria and now have been living together for a while. They’re not necessarily friends, and actually don't really like each other and one day daryl is out hunting when y/n spills something on her clothes, leaving her with nothing but one of daryls old t shirts. 🤭🤭🤭🤭 he comes home and catches her in the kitchen where she pulls the tshirt down to cover her underwear and keeps apologizing."

Northern Lights: Daryl Dixon x You

"Reader always being fascinated with the stars, sunsets, night skies and the moon etc. Always preferring to sleep under the moon or in the moonlight and because you never know when you will be able to see the Aurora until it's actually there, the reader noticed something different about the sky a pink glow which developed into full blown aurora/Northern Lights the longer reader and Daryl wait/watch."

Memory Loss: Daryl Dixon x You

hello dear!! i dont know if your are still taking requests or not, but if do you i would really love to see you write something fluff with a drunk daryl and reader, where he totally forgot that they are dating and just start acting shy and awkward around her, i know its cliche but i really love how you write daryl and think it would be so cute to see something like that written by you😭

"Kinda Hot": Daryl Dixon x You

Hi! I saw your request for some drabbles and was wondering if you could do a fluff Daryl x Fem Reader set in S2 Ep7 where she comes to Daryl's defense (maybe a slap to the face 😆) after Shane's rant about how Sophia would run away if she saw him.

Giveaways #1 #2 #3 Daryl Dixon x You

A collection of giveaway dribbles I did :)

In the quiet of the night, Taylor and Daryl share a rare, unspoken intimacy under the stars, where words aren’t needed, and he lets her see a gentler side of him he rarely shows.

Days after their daughter’s birth, Daryl and Krys are together in their nursery, marveling at the life they created despite the harshness of the world that brought them together.

In the quiet of the night, Daryl offers a rare warmth, easing the ache of homesickness and making you feel less alone.

She’s a singer: Daryl Dixon x You

hey! i have a request :) could you do daryl x fem reader who sings? she has never been too open about her singing but when she’s alone she’s singing all the time/humming to herself around others. she’s had a crush on him for a while but hasn’t been able to do anything about it because she’s not sure if he feels the same. but he hears her singing when she didn’t notice he was there and it sparks something <3

A Kiss Goodbye: Daryl Dixon x You

hii! i dont know if you are still taking requests or not, but if you are, you think you could write something fluff with daryl at the prison era, where reader always give him kisses before he or she left the place and daryl always acts nonchalant (but he secretly loves it) and one day she forgots to do that and he acts grumpy all day?

Don't You Dare: Joel Miller x You

So could you write a pretty angst-y fic where Joel and reader are in an established relationship and they've been settled in Jackson for a while, taking part in patrols and all. And one day, reader and Tommy go out on patrol and they're taking longer than they should to come back and Joel is anxiously waiting by the gate. Then he sees Tommy approaching on his horse with reader's limp body in his arms and a scared look on his face. Reader's been badly hurt while saving Tommy's life. Joel thinks he's gonna lose her but thankfully she recovers

Happy Birthday Joel Miller x You ✭

I want to give Joel Miller a lap dance. Feel his hands all over my body as I grind into him and he moans my name. He'll be begging to be inside me and I'll finally give in and ride him until he fills me up with his cum. That's it. That's the request. (Jesus, it's suddenly hot in here, huh?)

My Girl Daryl Dixon x You

heyy!! i was wondering if you could write something silly with daryl and reader who are in a relationship, but then someone get to make his girl laugh and he gets a bit jealous about it because he wants her pretty smile all to himself😭💕 i imagine this happening in the earlier seasons btw

Mess and All Joel Miller x You ✭

Could you write some Joel Miller filth about period sex? I doubt that Joel would be like these stupid men that are repulsed by some period blood. I think he'd even like the mess to be honest. It's okay if you don't feel like writing it, it's just that I am on my period and I'm so fucking horny and sensitive and I just wish Joel would fuck me senseless.

Dibs Daryl Dixon x You

hiii, would it be okay if you made a daryl x reader fic where daryl finds out you used to have a crush on him? like someone accidentally reveals it to him and he comes to find you as soon as he finds out just to confirm it?! i just think the concept is so adorable 🥹

Grip Daryl Dixon x You ✭

Could you do bicep choking 🌚🙈

author’s summary: You let something slip—just a thought, just a passing comment—but Daryl hasn’t been able to shake it since. A week later, the tension between you reaches a breaking point.

Sun-Kissed Joel Miller x You

Hi!!! Would you write something for Joel where he's been insecure about his lil tummy (dad bod™ 4thewin) and reader reassures him about that? Thankssss

Domestic Drabble Joel Miller x You

your fluffy joel series is so cute 😭😭😭 love me some fluff. Could i request some fluff with pre outbreak joel? like him coming back from work all tired but you have dinner cooking and greet him at the door with a bunch of kisses like usual and being like “how was work today? I missed you so much baby” 🥺 and snuggling with him afterwards. My lil babey i love him

I Like This One Joel Miller x You

Can I request some Joel Miller fluff? I thought about it being set when they're living in Jackson and Ellie finds an old Polaroid camera and she loves going around taking pictures. Joel being the usual grump he is gets annoyed at it and usually dismisses as being stupid. One day reader and Joel are sitting on the porch of their shared house, reader being curled up in Joel's embrace, her back pressed to his chest as they stare out into the setting sun and Ellie snaps a picture at that. Joel is just about to be his annoying self when he sees the picture and his heart melts. "I like that one" is all he says before putting the picture on his pocket, taking it with him wherever he goes 🥹❤️❤️

You Drew Stars Around My Scars Joel Miller x You

[that anon] Hey! Can I request a Joel fic about a rather personal topic? I have a few scars on my right cheek due to an accident a few years ago. They're rather small, about two inches each and were deep enough to need stitches. Right now they're much better and almost unnoticeable, there's even a tiny one right in the corner of my mouth that I find it cute now lol. But back when they were "fresh" and the year after that I was really self conscious about them. Can you write something where reader and Joel are together and reader gets hurt (in patrol maybe?) and ends up with scars like that. She gets self conscious and starts pushing Joel away because she thinks that Joel will think she's ugly now but he reassures her and tells her she's beautiful no matter what 🥹❤️ (yes, 100% self indulgent) thank you ❤️❤️

what if maybe potentially perhaps you wrote a rick grimes fic Rick Grimes x You

An anon wants you to write about your man. You’re still naked, still sore, and Rick Grimes is already halfway back in your space, offering plenty of inspiration.

What We Didn't Say Daryl Dixon x You

Can you do Daryl with an intelligent girl who maybe came from the same trailer park but went to nursing school or something

Prompt Giveaway:

Alkaline ✭ Good Girl ✭ Subby Daryl ✭ Eyes Up Here ✭ The Chain

Only A Whisper Joel Miller x You

hi!! i’m kinda new to asks/requests (and also tlou), but was wondering if you were interested in writing a joel fic about his hard of hearing/partial deafness? can be fluffy/angsty or whatever, just thought i’d put the idea out there (idk if joel’s deafness is written about a lot, sorry if it is) 🫶🫶

Jealous Joel Request ✭

Mmwhahaha REQUESTS YES. So jealous joel is my all-time crush, men being jealous is so damn hot. I'm picturing age gap, friends with Tommy, so she's come over for like a BBQ or something, and one of his friends is flirting and being touchy. Incomes jealous joel. I'll leave the creatives to you! Points for a short sundress and tipsy drunk sex later.

Morning Sex Drabble ✭

teeny tiny request from me bc ily and your brain: lazy morning sex with obsessed jackson!joel 🧎‍♀️ (think about him sleepily praising you…. yum)

Kitty, Kitty

anyway. i keep picturing joel either loving readers cat so much or being mortal enemies and trying to win the cat over (because you love your baby, and joel loves you). cue silliness of joel trying to win your cat over.

Space Cowboy ✭

I’m here for a request, but not a typical one. I want to request that you finish something you’ve been working on but maybe are nervous that people won’t want it. Something YOU have always wanted to write. author's summary: You tried to love Joel Miller the way he was. But eventually, the silence, the walls, the way he kept you at arm’s length… it broke something in you. So you let him go.

Joel Miller Loves Your Thighs

hello ml i hope you're doing well! i hope requests are open if not please ignore this im so sorry. im here to request joel x reader who has big thighs n feels insecure over them w some fluff, smut and a tiny sprinkle of angst i never see any representation of the big thighed girlies 😓😓 the rest is up to u!! i absolutely love your writing thank u for feeding us mwah xx

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reveryfics · 2 months ago

Note

hi hi hi

rick grimes and male reader from another settlement?? something similar to the saviors, just, not that big. a settlement that was formed out of "tough, former milita".

from that description, maybe intimidating reader?? nothing much for personality, just that him and rick aren't really meant to be seeing eachother...... (readers settlement could be close to alexandria, and known by alexandrians). but hey, who's going to tell rick to stop?

and this is specific,, but HoH (hard of hearing) reader? just makes surviving in a zombie apocalypse all the more difficult, if you can't hear anyone coming.

🫶🏼

Contact Your Saviors

Rick Grimes x Male Reader

Summary: After an unknown group attacks Alexandria, Rick has no choice but to ask for help from a nearby settlement.

A/N: I'm hoping this meets your request, I went a little overboard with 2k+ words.

TW: Violence - Blood - Gore

The air in Alexandria was thick with a suffocating blend of fear and the metallic tang of blood, a grim testament to the recent devastation. Homes lay in charred ruins, their skeletons stark against the bruised twilight sky, and the ground was littered with the gruesome tableau of the dead. The stench of burnt wood mingled with the cloying sweetness of fresh blood, a macabre perfume that clung to the damp air left by a recent, sorrowful rain.

It had been a swift, brutal intrusion. An unknown group, appearing from the shadows like specters, had descended upon the unsuspecting community in the dead of night. Most of the attackers had met their end at Rick's hand or fled into the darkness when their assault crumbled. Now, the aftermath was a stark reality, one that forced Rick to confront a bitter truth.

He stood, his posture weary, one hand resting on his hip as he fixed his gaze on Deanna. "We ain't got a choice but to ask for help," he stated, the words heavy with reluctance. Pride warred with necessity, but the image of the fallen and the vulnerability of his people tipped the scale. They were simply not strong enough to face another threat, not after this.

Deanna recoiled, her face etched with disdain. She ran a trembling hand through her disheveled hair, her other hand clenching into a tight fist before her. "I won't ask a group of monsters for help," she spat, her voice laced with a stubborn refusal. "We can do this alone."

Frustration gnawed at Rick. He began to pace the length of the room, the back-and-forth with Deanna an infuriating loop. The weight of responsibility pressed down on him. Finally, the simmering tension erupted. He slammed his fist against the worn wooden table, the sudden violence punctuating his despair before he turned and stormed out, the door rattling in his wake.

The relative quiet of his own house offered a momentary reprieve. He leaned against the closed door, letting the tension bleed from his shoulders as he saw Carl descending the stairs, Judith cradled in his arms. Carl, despite his youth, possessed a quiet understanding. "Do what you have to, Dad," he said, offering a small, reassuring smile.

Rick nodded, pulling both his children into a tight embrace, a silent promise to bring them back to safety. "Keep an eye on Judith for me, and listen to Glenn and Michonne," he instructed, his voice thick with emotion.

With a heavy sigh, he ascended the stairs to pack a bag, his movements swift and purposeful. He needed to speak with Glenn and Michonne, to lay out his plan, however risky it was.

He took one of the community's cars, offering a flimsy excuse about needing to clear his head, promising a swift return. Hours blurred into a monotonous stretch of road, the landscape a grim parade of abandoned towns and the slow, relentless march of walkers feasting on roadkill.

Finally, he arrived. Before him loomed a formidable set of gates, flanked by walls that were taller, thicker, and bore the weathered marks of experience far exceeding Alexandria's. Rick knew instinctively that these were not ordinary survivors. Whoever resided within these walls possessed a deep, ingrained understanding of survival.

He sat in his car, the engine idling, as the massive gates groaned open, revealing a figure stepping out to meet him. It was you. He recognized you, one of the people from the settlement Deanna had warned them about, a community with a history, albeit a strained one, with Alexandria.

Deanna's words echoed in his mind – "monsters," she had called them, people who killed without hesitation, reckless with their own lives and the lives of others. But Rick had seen a different kind of desperation in the world, a harsh reality where survival often demanded choices that blurred the lines of morality. He suspected your settlement understood that reality intimately, perhaps even embraced it. They were rumored to take in those who knew fighting was the only language this new world understood, those with backgrounds that had forged them into weapons – people like you, he surmised, noting the military bearing.

"Well, I'll be damned," you drawled, a wry chuckle escaping your lips. "Alexandria came to beg like a dog."

Rick stepped out of the car, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. He couldn't ignore the way your hand rested casually on the butt of the gun holstered at your hip, or the armed men and women who stood silently behind you, their eyes assessing him with a cold intensity.

"I came because we need help," Rick stated, taking a tentative step forward. He flinched slightly as you began to walk towards him, your gaze unwavering.

He noticed the way you moved, a strange blend of authority and an underlying weariness, a subtle tension in your stride. He saw the hearing aid peeking from beneath the loose strands of your hair, the dark circles etched beneath your eyes, the invisible weight of the world and its harsh demands etched onto your face.

You reached him, your movements fluid and economical. Without a word, you unholstered the Colt Python from his hip, the weight of the weapon settling comfortably in your hand. You gestured to one of your people, a silent command to take the car and bring it inside. "Sheriff, huh?" you hummed, your eyes flicking over him.

Rick's jaw tightened, the muscle twitching beneath his stubble. "Used to be."

You didn't reply, simply turning and gesturing for him to follow. As you walked into your settlement, Rick's eyes scanned the surroundings.

It was a place where nature and human resilience had intertwined. Buildings were reclaimed by vines and wildflowers, creating a strange, rugged beauty. There were thriving gardens, people working with a quiet purpose, and children playing, their laughter a stark contrast to the grim reality outside the walls. Rick had initially judged Alexandria for its perceived softness, but here, it was different. Everyone, even the children, seemed acutely aware of the dangers lurking beyond, yet they had cultivated a community that held a tangible sense of belonging.

You caught his gaze, the way he was observing everything. "Deanna talks shit," you stated bluntly, your voice cutting through the air. "We know what it's like out there. Know how to survive. And sometimes, that means you put your morals aside and realize you either fight or die like a dog."

Rick nodded, the harsh truth of your words resonating within him. "That's why I need help," he whispered, the admission raw and vulnerable. "Alexandria can't protect itself, especially after this attack. My people aren't safe until those bastards are dead."

You led him towards an old lookout point, perched high enough to offer a panoramic view of the settlement, a testament to what your community had built. "Tell me something," you murmured, your gaze fixed on the horizon. "What would you do to keep those you love safe?"

Rick followed your gaze, his eyes absorbing the details of the settlement, the quiet hum of life within its walls. "Anything," he replied, the word a low, unwavering promise.

You nodded, taking a seat on a worn chair and gesturing for Rick to do the same. "Good," you murmured. "Now, here's the deal."

You explained a recent influx of walkers near the south gates, a growing horde that posed a significant threat to the runners and scouts who used that entrance and exit. Rick understood the unspoken implication. You needed help, and given Alexandria's past judgment, it was a fair price to pay.

"Help us clear the growing horde, and your problem simply vanishes in the night," you stated, extending your hand, your eyes locking with his.

Rick met your gaze, a small, grim smile playing on his lips as he shook your hand. "You got yourself a deal."

The night was a brutal ballet of violence. Rick, alongside a group of your runners, moved through the darkness, the only illumination the flickering beams of their flashlights and the occasional flare of a walker's rotting flesh catching fire. The air was thick with the stench of death, amplified by the sheer number of the undead pressing against the south gate. You moved with a practiced efficiency, your hearing aid seemingly no impediment as you anticipated the movements of the walkers, your shots precise and deadly. Rick fought with a desperate energy, fueled by the image of his children and the burning memory of Alexandria's devastation. It was a long, grueling night, but as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, the horde had been thinned, the immediate threat neutralized. Rick had no doubt you were a man of your word.

As the sun climbed higher, casting long shadows across the settlement, you and a small group of your people geared up. The adrenaline from the night had faded, replaced by a cold, focused resolve. You made your way towards the compound Rick believed the attackers were holed up in, the truck rumbling beneath you.

You sat on the hood of the truck, the metal warm beneath you, watching as the last sliver of the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues. The flimsy gate surrounding the compound groaned in protest as one of your people drove a stolen car straight through it.

A grim smile touched your lips. You lit the rag stuffed into the neck of an old beer bottle filled with gasoline, the flame catching with a whoosh. The makeshift Molotov cocktail arced through the air, shattering against the wooden structure, igniting it in a blaze of fire. The crackling flames mingled with the screams and desperate pleas of the compound's inhabitants, a symphony of terror that sent a shiver down your spine, a shiver that was not entirely unpleasant.

Moments like this were a stark reminder of why Alexandria had labeled you as monsters. Moments where the safety of your own people eclipsed any consideration for others. Moments where you shot without hesitation, where you let them beg and scream as walkers, drawn by the chaos, tore into them.

You stepped over charred corpses, sidestepping the few walkers that had managed to stumble through the flames. A slow smile spread across your face as you knelt down, facing the leader of the group, his face a mask of terror and pain. "Did you honestly think you'd get away with what you did?" you asked, your voice low and dangerous.

Suddenly, a figure lunged from the shadows, a desperate act of survival. You were caught off guard, your partial deafness a momentary disadvantage. He tackled you, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of you. A sharp pain ripped through your shoulder as a knife plunged into your flesh. The fight was brutal and quick, a tangle of limbs and grunts. You managed to gain the upper hand, your years of fighting instinct taking over. You slammed his face into the rough ground beneath you, again and again, until the struggling ceased, and he lay still.

You huffed, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You yanked the knife from your shoulder, ignoring the searing pain, and turned back to the leader, your eyes cold and unforgiving.

"Now, where were we?" you said, your voice dangerously calm. You didn't give him a chance to answer. The blade flashed in the dying light, ending his reign of terror with brutal efficiency.

Your people moved quickly, efficiently. They salvaged what they could from the compound – weapons, ammunition, supplies – their movements practiced and swift. Then, as you had done before, you set the rest ablaze, ensuring no one would follow in their footsteps. The flames roared, consuming the last vestiges of the group that had dared to attack Alexandria. With the acrid smell of smoke filling the air, you and your people turned and began the journey back towards Alexandria.

Rick stood just inside the gates of Alexandria, his eyes fixed on the approaching truck. As the gates creaked open, his breath hitched. You sat on the hood of the truck, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun, a figure both imposing and strangely alluring. He couldn't miss the dark stain blooming on your shirt, the blood a stark contrast to the grim satisfaction etched on your face.

You hopped off the hood of the truck with a casual grace that belied your injury, flinging a wrapped bundle towards Rick and Deanna. The cloth unfurled, revealing the severed head of the compound's leader, his dead eyes staring blankly at the sky.

Deanna recoiled, a hand flying to her chest, her face pale. "I told you they were monsters!" she exclaimed, turning away, unable to bear the sight.

You walked towards Rick, kicking the head further in his direction, a macabre offering. "You'd rather your people die like dogs, Deanna?" you sneered, your voice dripping with disdain. "Take victories where you can get them, because sometimes trusting the monsters is what keeps you alive."

Deanna, her face still averted, gave a curt nod towards Rick, a silent acknowledgment of the grim reality. Then, she turned and walked away, the weight of her prejudice heavy in her steps.

Rick, his gaze fixed on you, ushered you and your people inside. He led you towards the makeshift infirmary, his concern evident as he guided you to a cot. He waited patiently as one of his people tended to your stab wound, his eyes never leaving you. Once the room was empty and the door was closed, he took a seat in front of you, his expression earnest.

"Thank you," he said, the word sincere. "For what you did. My kids… they're safer now, thanks to you."

You shrugged, a grimace of pain flickering across your face. "It wasn't anything I wouldn't do if they attacked my settlement," you replied, your voice matter-of-fact.

You started to get up, reaching for your discarded shirt. Rick gently took it from you, his touch surprisingly tender as he helped you put it on, careful not to aggravate your injured shoulder. You smirked, a hint of amusement in your eyes, and patted his chest. "You're welcome in my settlement anytime, Sheriff," you said, your voice a low murmur. "You and your kids."

Rick nodded, a small smile touching his lips. "Thank you."

Before you left, you leaned in, your hand finding his jaw. Your kiss was sudden, heated, and rough, a raw expression of something that surprised even you. Rick didn't pull away, meeting your intensity with a surprising fervor of his own. You squeezed his bicep, a silent promise hanging in the air, before turning and rejoining your people, the truck rumbling to life as you headed back towards your settlement, leaving Rick standing in the infirmary, the scent of smoke and something else, something undeniably charged, lingering in the air.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x male reader #twd rick #twd x male reader #twd fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #mlm #x male reader #xmalereader #requested #non canon

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astrosky33 · 2 years ago

Text

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑

ABOUT ME

Hello! I’m Skylar if you’re new to my page and I got my diploma in astrology from Kepler College (the #1 best astrology school in the world)

I’ve been studying astrology for over a decade now as well and these are the books I recommend

☆ BEGINNER BOOKS ☆

The Only Astrology Book You’ll Ever Need by Joanna Woolfolk

Goes over all the basic information for beginners and has interpretations written in as well. In the beginning of the book it focuses a lot on Sun Signs but gives more insight on other placements later in the book don’t worry

Astrology for the Soul by Jan Spiller

Another great book for beginners. I like the interpretations

The Inner Sky by Steven Forrest

Written by a very renowned astrologer. He goes over signs, aspects, etc and breaks them all down really well

You were born for this by Chani Nicholas

I love how this book goes over how to use astrology in your daily life and isn’t just cookie cutter definitions of placements like many other books. It’s also interactive and you can write in some pages which is always fun. It’s one of my favorite books for beginners

Aspects in astrology by Sue Tompkins

This is a great book for people curious about what each aspect means and how they can manifest into your life

☆ INTERMEDIATE BOOKS ☆

Predictive Astrology by Michele Adler

This book is definitely worth the price. It gives lots of information on techniques you can use to make predictions in astrology. It’s based on Western Astrology

The Art of Predictive Astrology by Carol Rushmam

Another great predictive astro book that talks about how to make predictions based on transits in your chart

Medical Astrology by Judith Hill

This is a great book with information on body part astrology and medical information. Although I do want to note when reading this do not be afraid if you share one of the transits that the public figures mentioned had during their health issues arising as astrology is a polarity. Meaning you can take on positive traits rather than the challenging ones often

☆ ADVANCED BOOKS ☆

Asteroid Goddesses by Demetra George

Goes over all the major asteroids in astrology. This can help you a lot if you’re interested in learning basic information on asteroids

Planets in Composite by Robert Hand

There are not many books out there on Composite compatibility so out of all of them this is my favorite even though it’s very basic it’s still a good read if you’re learning about Composite charts

The Psychology of Astrocartography by Jim Lewis

This is the best book about astrocartography I’ve found so far and very informative. The only bad thing I have to say about this book is that the print is really small. It’s amazing other than that though

☆ OLD AGE ASTRO BOOKS ☆

Mastering Traditional Astrology by Mychal A. Brian

If you’re more interested in old age astrology then this is an amazing read. You can purchase it on Amazon

Astrology of the Tree by David Frawley

This is great for beginners in vedic astrology and goes over all the basics. Really anything by David Frolly is great if you want to learn about vedic

The Nakshatras; the Lunar Mansions of Vedic Astrology by Dennis Harness

It’s a short read and goes over all the meanings of all the nakshatras

Light on Relationships by Hart De

A very comprehensive read that goes over synastry in Indian astrology. It gives lots of interesting techniques that can give insight on future marriages as well

Mayan Calender Astrology by Kenneth Johnson

This is extremely hard to comprehend so don’t purchase if you’re new to astrology. Even I had to read it a few times to fully get it. It discusses the astrology that the egyptians wrote in their hieroglyphics

☆ BOOKS I STUDIED FOR MY DIPLOMA ☆ [these aren’t all of them just some of my faves]

Sky and Psyche; the relationship between cosmos and consciousness by Nicholas Campion and Patrick Curry

This is an extremely underrated book and one of my favorites by far. This book goes over not just meanings of the planets, houses, synastry aspects, etc but also why the planets manifest in certain ways

The planetarization of consciousness by Dane Rudhyar

This one isn’t a basic overview like the other books I’ve mentioned it’s more psychological type astrology which I found really interesting

History of western astrology volume 1 & 2 by Nicholas Campion

This goes over how astrology has been used throughout history and why it was used in the past

☆ OTHER ASTRO BOOKS ☆

Moonology by Yasmin Boland

This is a manifestation astrology book. It gives an amazing story about the authors life before using astrology and manifestation and how it impacted them. Great for learning how to manifest using the moon cycles and astrology

The Handbook of Chinese Horoscopes by Theodora Lau and Laura Lau

My favorite Chinese astrology book. There isn’t many good ones out there

Birth Time Rectification by Paul Manley

There are some things I would’ve added to this book that weren’t mentioned but other than that it’s pretty good in helping find the right birth times using vedic astrology

<- 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

#astrology books #astro books #astrology help #astro community #astrology #zodiac #astro placements #astrology tumblr #astro chart #birth chart #asteroid astrology #mars #mars astrology #planets in astrology #houses in astrology

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