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đđââđđđđđđđđđđđâ | đđ«đŠ!đ«đąđđ€ đ đ«đąđŠđđŹ đ± đđđŠ!đ«đđđđđ«
!!!: đŠđČ đ°đšđ«đ€ đąđŹ đ§đšđ đđš đđ đ«đđźđŹđđ đ°đąđđĄđšđźđ đđ«đđđąđ/đ©đđ«đŠđąđŹđŹđąđšđ§!
đ«đđȘđźđđŹđ đ«đźđ„đđŹáŻáĄŁđ©
đ°đđ«đ§đąđ§đ đŹ: đŠđđ§đđąđšđ§đŹ đšđ đŹđđ„đ-đĄđđ«đŠ đđ§đ đŹđźđąđđąđđ đŹđźđŠđŠđđ«đČ: đČđšđź đ đđ đđ„đšđŹđ đđš đ«đąđđ€ đ°đĄđąđ„đ đĄđ đąđŹ đđ©đđ«đ đšđ đđĄđ đđ«đŠ. đ°đšđ«đ đđšđźđ§đ: đ.đđđ€ đđźđđĄđšđ«đŹ đ§đšđđ: đą đĄđđŻđđ§đ đ°đđđđĄđđ đđšđ°đ„ đŹđąđ§đđ đąđ đđđŠđ đšđźđ đŹđš đąđđđ€ đĄđšđ° đđđđźđ«đđđ đđĄđąđŹ đąđŹ. đ„đšđŻđ đđĄđ đđ«đšđ©đ đđ§đ đ°đšđźđ„đ đ„đšđŻđ đđš đŠđđ€đ đ đ©đđ«đ đđ°đš
âđđšđźâđ«đ đđ„đ°đđČđŹ ïżœïżœđš đŹđđ«đąđšđźđŹ, đđąđđ€,â đČđšđź đŹđđČ đ°đąđđĄ đ đ©đšđźđ, đČđšđźđ« đđČđđŹ đ„đąđ§đ đđ«đąđ§đ đšđ§ đđĄđ đŹđąđđ đšđ đĄđąđŹ đđđđ đđŹ đČđšđź đŹđąđ đđđŹđąđđ đĄđąđŠ đšđ§ đđĄđ đŠđđđđ„ đ©đđ«đ€ đđđ§đđĄ đđ„đšđ§đ đđĄđ đ«đąđŻđđ« đ°đđ„đ€. đđ đđđ„đ€đŹ đđđšđźđ đĄđąđŹ đđđČ, đŹđ©đđ«đąđ§đ đ§đš đđđđđąđ„, đĄđąđŹ đđđđ© đŻđšđąđđ đ đŹđđđđđČ đ«đĄđČđđĄđŠ đđđđđ« đČđšđźâđ đđąđ§đąđŹđĄđđ đŹđĄđđ«đąđ§đ đđđšđźđ đČđšđźđ«đŹ. đđąđŹ đ đđłđ đ«đđŠđđąđ§đŹ đđąđ±đđ đšđ§ đđĄđ đ đđ§đđ„đČ đđ„đšđ°đąđ§đ đ«đąđŻđđ«, đđĄđ đ đšđ„đđđ§ đŹđźđ§ đđđ đąđ§đ§đąđ§đ đąđđŹ đŹđ„đšđ° đđđŹđđđ§đ đđđĄđąđ§đ đđĄđ đĄđšđ«đąđłđšđ§, đđđŹđđąđ§đ đ đ°đđ«đŠ đ đ„đšđ° đšđŻđđ« đđĄđ đđąđŹđđđ§đ đđąđđČđŹđđđ©đ.
đđąđđ€ đ°đđŹ đđ«đđŹđŹđđ đąđ§ đĄđąđŹ đźđŹđźđđ„ đđđ đđ«đđąđ§đąđ§đ đ đđđ«: đ đđ„đđđ€ đ„đšđ§đ -đŹđ„đđđŻđđ đŹđĄđąđ«đ đđĄđđ đđąđ đŹđ§đźđ đ„đČ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đĄđąđŹ đđąđđđ©đŹ, đ©đđąđ«đđ đ°đąđđĄ đđ„đđđ€ đđđ«đ đš đ©đđ§đđŹ đđ§đ đŹđđźđ«đđČ đđ„đđđ€ đđšđŠđđđ đđšđšđđŹ. đđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đšđ§đ„đČ đ©đđ«đŹđšđ§ đąđ§ đđĄđ đŠđąđ„đąđđđ«đČ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đ đ«đšđ°đ§ đđš đ„đąđ€đ, đđŻđđ«đČđšđ§đ đđ„đŹđ đđąđđĄđđ« đđąđ đ§đšđ đđđ€đ đČđšđź đŹđđ«đąđšđźđŹđ„đČ, đšđ« đđĄđđČ đ°đđ«đ đđšđš đŹđđđ«đđ đđš đđđ„đ€ đđš đČđšđź. đđźđ đ§đšđ đđąđđ€, đđĄđšđźđ đĄ.
đđšđźđ« đđđđĄđđ« đ°đđŹ đšđ§đ đšđ đđĄđ đ„đđđđđ«đŹ đđ§đ đđšđźđ§đđđ«đŹ đšđ đđĄđ đŹđđđ«đđ đđąđđČ, đđ§đ đđđąđ§đ đĄđąđŹ đđđźđ đĄđđđ« đđ«đđđđđ đ đ„đšđ đšđ đđđ§đŹđąđšđ§ đđđđ°đđđ§ đČđšđź đđ§đ đđĄđ đšđđĄđđ«đŹ. đđđŹ, đČđšđź đĄđđ đ đ„đšđ đšđ đ©đ«đąđŻđąđ„đđ đ đđ§đ đšđ©đ©đšđ«đđźđ§đąđđąđđŹ đđĄđđ đšđđĄđđ« đ©đđšđ©đ„đ đđšđ§âđ đĄđđŻđ, đđźđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đđđđđ«đŠđąđ§đđ đđš đźđŹđ đąđ đđšđ« đđĄđ đ đšđšđ đšđ đ©đđšđ©đ„đ. đđšđź đ°đđ§đđđ đđš đŠđđ€đ đ đđąđđđđ«đđ§đđ.
đđšđź đ đ„đđ§đđ đđšđ°đ§ đđ đđąđđ€âđŹ đ©đ«đšđŹđđĄđđđąđ đđšđ«đđđ«đŠ, đđĄđ đŹđ„đąđđ€ đđ„đđđ€ đŹđźđ«đđđđ đđđđđĄđąđ§đ đđĄđ đ«đđđ„đđđđąđšđ§ đšđ đđĄđ đŹđźđ§. đđđ§đđ„đČ, đČđšđź đ đ«đđ đĄđąđŹ đĄđđ§đ đđ§đ đ„đđČ đąđ đšđ§ đČđšđźđ« đ đ«đđČ đđĄđđđ€đđ«đđ đ©đ„đđđđđ đŠđąđ§đą đŹđ€đąđ«đ. đđšđźđ« đđąđ§đ đđ«đŹ đđ«đđđ đđ„đšđ§đ đđĄđ đŹđŠđšđšđđĄ đŹđźđ«đđđđ đšđ đđĄđ đ©đ«đšđŹđđĄđđđąđ đ°đąđđĄ đ đŹđŠđđ„đ„ đđ«đšđ°đ§ đšđ§ đČđšđźđ« đđđđ.
âđ đŹđđąđ„đ„ đđšđ§âđ đźđ§đđđ«đŹđđđ§đ đ°đĄđČ đČđšđź đđąđ đđĄđąđŹâŠâ đđšđź đŠđźđ«đŠđźđ« đ„đđđđąđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đŻđšđąđđ đđ«đđąđ„ đšđđ. đđđđ©đąđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđČđđŹ đđąđ±đđđđ đšđ§ đđĄđ đŠđšđŻđđŠđđ§đ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đđąđ§đ đđ«đŹ. đđąđđ€âđŹ đđšđđČ đđđ§đŹïżœïżœïżœïżœđŹ đđ đČđšđźđ« đ°đšđ«đđŹ, đđźđ đĄđ đ€đđđ©đŹ đȘđźđąđđ.
âđđš đČđšđź đ§đđđ đ đđĄđđ«đđ©đąđŹđ? đ đđđ§ đ đđ đČđšđź đšđ§đ,â đČđšđź đŹđ§đđ© đČđšđźđ« đĄđđđ đźđ© đđš đ„đšđšđ€ đźđ© đđ đđĄđ đŠđđ§ đ°đąđđĄ đđšđ§đđđ«đ§ đđąđ„đ„đąđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđČđđŹ. đđ đđšđđŹđ§âđ đŠđšđŻđ, đđźđ đ«đđđĄđđ« đ€đđđ©đŹ đĄđąđŹ đđČđđŹ đđąđ±đđ đšđ§ đđĄđ đ«đąđŻđđ« đđĄđđđ.
âđđš,â đĄđ đĄđđŹđąđđđđđŹ đđŹ đĄđ đđđ€đđŹ đĄđąđŹ đđ«đŠ đđ°đđČ đđ«đšđŠ đČđšđźđ« đ đ«đđŹđ©.
âđđąđđ€, đâđŠ đŹđđđ«đđ đđĄđđ đČđšđźâđ«đ đ đšđąđ§đ đđš đ€đąđ„đ„ đČđšđźđ«đŹđđ„đ.â đđšđź đŹđ©đđđ€ đŹđšđđđ„đČ, đšđđŻđąđšđźïżœïżœđ„đČ đ°đšđ«đ«đąđđ đđđšđźđ đđĄđ đŠđđ§ đŹđąđđđąđ§đ đ§đđ±đ đđš đČđšđź.
đđšđź đ©đ„đđđ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđ§đ đšđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđĄđąđ đĄ đđ§đ đ đąđŻđ đ„đąđ đĄđ đ«đđđŹđŹđźđ«đąđ§đ đŹđȘđźđđđłđ đđđđšđ«đ đŹđđđ§đđąđ§đ đźđ©, âđđźđŹđ đđĄđąđ§đ€ đđđšđźđ đąđ, đ©đ„đđđŹđ.â đđšđź đŹđđČ, đ„đąđ§đ đđ«đąđ§đ đđšđ« đ đŠđšđŠđđ§đ, đ°đđąđđąđ§đ đđšđ« đĄđąđŠ đđš đ«đđŹđ©đšđ§đ. đđźđ đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đđšđđŹđ§âđ, đČđšđź đ đąđŻđ đ đđźđ«đ đ§đšđ đđđđšđ«đ đđźđ«đ§đąđ§đ đšđ§ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđđ„đŹ đđ§đ đ°đđ„đ€đąđ§đ đđ°đđČ đđ«đšđŠ đĄđąđŠ.
đđĄđđ đ§đąđ đĄđ, đČđšđź đđšđŹđŹđđ đđ§đ đđźđ«đ§đđ, đ«đđŹđđ„đđŹđŹđ§đđŹđŹ đđđ€đąđ§đ đšđŻđđ«. đđ§đđđ„đ đđš đđąđ§đ đđšđŠđđšđ«đ, đČđšđź đđąđ§đđ„đ„đČ đŹđđ đźđ© đđ§đ đŹđ°đźđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đ„đđ đŹ đšđŻđđ« đđĄđ đŹđąđđ đšđ đđĄđ đđđ. đđ«đđŹđŹđđ đąđ§ đđđđČ đ©đąđ§đ€ đ©đđŁđđŠđ đ©đđ§đđŹ đđ§đ đ đđ„đđđ€ đđđ§đ€ đđšđ© đ°đąđđĄ đŹđ©đđ đĄđđđđą đŹđđ«đđ©đŹ, đČđšđź đŹđđšđšđ đđ§đ đ°đđ„đ€đđ đđšđ°đđ«đ đČđšđźđ« đđ„đšđŹđđ. đđđđđ« đ đŠđšđŠđđ§đ đšđ đŹđđđ«đđĄđąđ§đ , đČđšđź đ đ«đđđđđ đČđšđźđ« đŹđ°đđđđŹđĄđąđ«đ đđ§đ đŹđ„đąđ©đ©đđ đąđ§đđš đČđšđźđ« đđđ§đ§đąđŹ đŹđĄđšđđŹ, đđĄđ đđđđ«đąđ đŹđšđđ đđ đđąđ§đŹđ đČđšđźđ« đŹđ€đąđ§ đđŹ đČđšđź đ©đźđ„đ„đđ đąđ đšđŻđđ« đČđšđźđ« đĄđđđ.
đđšđź đ°đđ„đ€ đđšđ°đ§ đđĄđ đ«đšđđ, đČđšđźđ« đđšđšđđŹđđđ©đŹ đŹđđđđđČ đČđđ đđąđŠđ„đđŹđŹ, đđĄđ đŠđšđšđ§ đđđŹđđąđ§đ đ đŹđąđ„đŻđđ«đČ đ đ„đšđ° đšđŻđđ« đđĄđ đ©đđŻđđŠđđ§đ. đđšđźđ« đŠđąđ§đ đđ«đąđđđŹ đąđ§ đđ§đ đšđźđ đšđ đđĄđšđźđ đĄđđŹ, đđźđ đČđšđźđ« đ„đđ đŹ, đđŹ đąđ đ đźđąđđđ đđČ đŹđšđŠđ đźđ§đŹđ©đšđ€đđ§ đđšđ«đđ, đđđ«đ«đČ đČđšđź đđšđ«đ°đđ«đ. đđšđź đđšđ§âđ đĄđđŻđ đ đđđŹđđąđ§đđđąđšđ§ đąđ§ đŠđąđ§đ, đđźđ đŹđšđŠđđĄđšđ°, đđĄđđČ đ„đđđ đČđšđź đ đđđ° đŠđąđ„đđŹ đđšđ°đ§ đđĄđ đ«đšđđ, đŹđđšđ©đ©đąđ§đ đ«đąđ đĄđ đąđ§ đđ«đšđ§đ đšđ đđąđđ€âđŹ đđšđšđ«.
đđšđź đŹđđšđšđ đŠđšđŠđđ§đđđ«đąđ„đČ, đŹđđđ«đąđ§đ đđ đđĄđ đđšđšđ« đąđ§đđđ§đđ„đČ. đđ«đČđąđ§đ đđš đđđđąđđ đšđ§ đ°đĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đđ§đđđ đđš đđš. đđąđđ€ đ§đđŻđđ« đ«đđŻđđđ„đđ đđš đČđšđź đ°đĄđđ«đ đĄđ đ°đđŹ đ„đąđŻđąđ§đ . đđźđ đąđ§ đ đŠđšđŠđđ§đ đšđ đđšđ§đđąđđđ§đđ, đČđšđź đ«đđđđĄ đČđšđźđ« đđąđŹđ đźđ© đđ§đ đ„đąđ đĄđđ„đČ đ€đ§đšđđ€đđ đšđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđšđšđ«.
đđšđź đĄđđ đđšđźđ§đ đđąđđ€âđŹ đđąđ„đ đšđ§ đČđšđźđ« đđđđĄđđ«âđŹ đđđŹđ€ đ đđšđźđ©đ„đ đšđ đŠđšđ§đđĄđŹ đđ đš, đđźđ«đąđšđŹđąđđČ đ đđđđąđ§đ đđĄđ đđđđđđ« đšđ đČđšđź đđŹ đČđšđź đŹđđšđźđ«đđ đđĄđ đđšđ§đđđ§đđŹ. đđšđź đĄđđ đŠđđŠđšđ«đąđłđđ đđŻđđ«đČ đđđđđąđ„ đąđ§ đđĄđđ đđąđ„đâđĄđąđŹ đđđđ€đ đ«đšđźđ§đ, đĄđąđŹ đŠđąđ„đąđđđ«đČ đĄđąđŹđđšđ«đČ, đđ§đ đŠđšđŹđ đąđŠđ©đšđ«đđđ§đđ„đČ, đ°đĄđđ«đ đĄđ đ°đđŹ đŹđđđČđąđ§đ .
đđš đ°đĄđđ§ đČđšđźđ« đđđđ đąđ§đŹđđąđ§đđđąđŻđđ„đČ đ„đđ đČđšđź đĄđđ«đ đđšđ§đąđ đĄđ, đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đŠđšđ«đ đđĄđđ§ đ©đ«đđ©đđ«đđ. đđđąđ„đ„, đđŹ đČđšđź đ€đ§đšđđ€đđ, đČđšđź đđđ„đ đ đđ„đźđđđđ« đšđ đ§đđ«đŻđšđźđŹđ§đđŹđŹ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđđ§âđ đđ±đ©đđđđđ.
đđĄđ đđšđšđ« đŹđ„đšđ°đ„đČ đšđ©đđ§đŹ đđš đ«đđŻđđđ„ đđĄđ đŠđđ§, đđĄđ đŠđđ§ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđŻđ đđđđ§ đŹđđđąđ§đ đđšđ« đŠđšđ§đđĄđŹ. đđ đŹđđđ©đŹ đđš đđĄđ đđšđšđ«đđ«đđŠđ, đŹđđąđ„đ„ đ°đđđ«đąđ§đ đđĄđ đŹđđŠđ đđĄđąđ§đ đđĄđđ đĄđ đ°đđŹ đ°đđđ«đąđ§đ đđđ«đ„đąïżœïżœđ« đđČ đđĄđ đ«đąđŻđđ«. đđąđŹ đđČđđŹ đ„đšđđ€đąđ§đ đ°đąđđĄ đČđšđźđ«đŹ.
âđđĄđđ đđ«đ đČđšđź đđšđąđ§đ đĄđđ«đ?â đđ đđŹđ€đŹ, đĄđąđŹ đŻđšđąđđ đ„đšđ°.
âđđźđŹđ đ°đđ§đđđ đđš đŹđđ đ°đĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đźđ© đđš,â đČđšđź đŹđĄđ«đźđ . đđđđ«đąđ§đ đđš đđĄđ đđąđŠđ„đČ đ„đąđ đ«đšđšđŠ đšđŻđđ« đĄđąđŹ đŹđĄđšđźđ„đđđ« đđđđšđ«đ đ„đšđšđ€đąđ§đ đđđđ€ đđ đĄđąđŠ.
đđąđđ€ đ°đđđđĄđđŹ đđĄđ đ„đđ§đ đźđđ đ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đđšđđČ, đđđđšđ«đ đđđđąđđąđ§đ đšđ§ đąđ§đŻđąđđąđ§đ đČđšđź đąđ§đŹđąđđ. âđđąđ đČđšđź đ°đđ§đ đđš đđšđŠđ đąđ§?â đđšđź đđšđ§âđ đŹđđČ đđ§đČđđĄđąđ§đ , đđźđ đ§đšđ đđđźđŹđąđ§đ đĄđąđŠ đđš đŹđđđ© đđ°đđČ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đđšđšđ«đđ«đđŠđ đđš đ„đđ đČđšđź đąđ§.
đđšđź đ°đđ„đ€ đąđ§đđš đđĄđ đȘđźđđąđ§đ đđ©đđ«đđŠđđ§đ, đđĄđ đđđ„đđŻđąđŹđąđšđ§ đđđąđ§đ đđĄđ đšđ§đ„đČ đŹđšđźđ«đđ đšđ đ„đąđ đĄđ đąđ§ đđĄđ đ«đšđšđŠ. đđĄđ đ©đ„đđđ đąđŹ đŹđ©đđ«đŹđ đđ§đ đ§đđđ, đđŹ đąđ đĄđ đ§đđŻđđ« đđšđđĄđđ«đđ đđš đŠđđ€đ đąđ đđđđ„ đ„đąđ€đ đĄđąđŹ đšđ°đ§. đđšđź đŹđđđ§đ đđđĄđąđ§đ đđĄđ đđšđźđđĄ đ„đšđšđ€đąđ§đ đđ đđĄđ đ.đ. đđšđź đđ«đąđđđ„đČ đ°đšđ§đđđ«đđ đąđ đĄđ đĄđđŹ đĄđđ đđ§đČđšđ§đ đšđŻđđ« đđđđšđ«đ.
đđąđđ€ đđ„đšđŹđđŹ đđĄđ đđšđšđ« đđ§đ đ°đđ„đ€đŹ đšđŻđđ« đđš đČđšđź. âđđŠ đ đąđ§đđđ«đ«đźđ©đđąđ§đ đđ§đČđđĄđąđ§đ ?â đđšđź đŹđđČ, đđźđ«đ§đąđ§đ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đđ§đ đđđđđąđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđČđđ„đđŹđĄđđŹ đźđ© đđ đĄđąđŠ.
âđđźđŹđ đđ«đČđąđ§đ đđš đ đđ đŹđšđŠđ đŹđ„đđđ©. đđąđ đŹđšđŠđđđĄđąđ§đ đĄđđ©đ©đđ§?â đđ đȘđźđđŹđđąđšđ§đŹ, đĄđąđŹ đđČđđŹ đŹđđđ«đđĄđąđ§đ đČđšđźđ«đŹ.
đđšđź đŹđđđ©đŹ đđ„đšđŹđđ« đđš đĄđąđŠ đđ«đČđąđ§đ đđš đđąđ„đ„ đđĄđ đŹđ©đđđ đđđđ°đđđ§ đĄđąđŠ. âđđš, đ§đšđ đđ đđ„đ„! đ đ°đđŹ đŁđźđŹđ đ°đđ§đđđ đđš đŹđđ đČđšđź,â đČđšđź đđđ„đ„ đĄđąđŠ đđŹ đČđšđź đ©đ„đđČ đ°đąđđĄ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđ§đđŹ, đđ„đđđ«đ„đČ đ§đđ«đŻđšđźđŹ.
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đ«đąđđ€ đ đ«đąđŠđđŹ đŠđđŹđđđ«đ„đąđŹđáŻáĄŁđ©
đŠđđŹđđđ«đ„đąđŹđáŻáĄŁđ©
#rick grimes#rick grimes angst#rick grimes comfort#rick grimes x reader#the walking dead#twd#crm!rick grimes x reader#crm!rick grimes#crm rick grimes#rick grimes x you#rick grimes oneshot#rick grimes fanfiction#towl#the ones who live#the ones who live fanfiction#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes imagine#rick x you#rick grimes concepts#rick grimes twd#rick x reader#rick x y/n#rick grimes fic#rick grimes fluff
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đ„ đđđđ đđđđđđ đ„
âą đđđđđđđđđ .á
rick grimes ; my mercy prevails over my wrath.
âą đđđđđđđđđđ .á
âŠcoming soon
âą đđđđđđđđ .á
âŠcoming soon
âą đđđđđđ .á
âŠcoming soon
âą đđđđđđđđ .á
âŠcoming soon
â° back to main masterlist ᥣđ©
#â đ«đąđđ€ đ đ«đąđŠđđŹ ᥣđ©#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x you#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes x fem!reader#rick grimes fanfiction#rick grimes fanfic#rick grimes fic#rick grimes oneshot#rick grimes one shot#rick grimes imagines#rick grimes imagine#rick grimes concept#rick grimes concepts#rick grimes moodboard#rick grimes headcanon#rick grimes drabble#rick grimes blurb#rick grimes fluff#rick grimes smut#rick grimes angst#rick grimes aesthetic#rick grimes
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- rick with someone whoâs super inexperienced and shy. heâs so encouraging as he coaxes you into trying new things. his favourite was the first time you got on top - his eyes drank you in greedily as you rocked your hips slowly against him. you were a tentative little thing, constantly looking to him for reassurance that you were doing well. âs good isnât it, honey?â heâd coo. heâs got the way you looked engrained in his head - the way your breath hitched as the tip of his cock hit you just right, the way your movements got more confident with time, the little indents in your lip from where youâd bitten. youâd hummed in reply, eyes fluttering in bliss. âi told you, didnât i? should listen to me more often huh?â
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Scraps - first tries at designing Rick Grimes as a horse
#heâs a honse#itâs super rough and early concept tho like this will deffo NOT be the final design#personal art#rick grimes#twd#twd fan art#my art#horse#sona#anthro#furry#twd rick#art#sketch#character design#concept
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hard dom/strict rick and easy going daryl
oo yes yes! rick has lots of things he doesnât like you doing, but daryl always allows it with a shrug and an âI wonât tell if you donâtâ
Plz one time whrn youâre doing something you arenât supposed to you hear someone step to the doorway and you get so startled and whip around then feel such relief upon seeing daryl
âJesus, I thought you were Rickâ
He just gives you a bit of a sympathetic look as a low voice behind him pipes up âThank God heâs not Rick, huh?â And your face drops as rick steps into view
âGoddamnit.â
Rick just shakes his head and mutters to daryl âI knew you were letting her get away with shitâ
#idk im not happy w this#i like the concept but not what i came up with for it#rick grimes#daryl dixon#the walking dead
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Concept:
Being read bedtime stories to fall asleep to, but make it fanfiction.
#bean rambles#text#littlelovingideas#random thoughts#the walking dead#rick grimes#Daryl Dixon#twd shitpost#twd#idk#kinda cool concept tho
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@imaginemyfavoritefics
Magnolia in May (Part Ten) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU
Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9...
AVAILABLE ON AO3
Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.
Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.
TWS: infidelity, child abandonment, heartbreak, mentioned family dissolution, parentification (child becoming a parental figure) and betrayal.
[[A/N: Banter!!! And also, can you tell that I'm a child of divorce ??? Actually helped me write this so anyway- I'm not sure how I like this chapter but I think it's what it needs to be. Thanks for reading :))) ]]
The morning was a rather sunny one, the sort that made you wish your dresses were lighter in fabric. Your Headmistress had urged you to wear a hat to protect your eyes -so you'd done so. It was the same color as your dress and had the same sort of embellishments of lace and detailed ribbon, all coordinated.
Even within the carriage (that Mr. Grimes had requested you ride in 'I refuse to chance you having any more illness, Ms. Greene.') the air was rather heavy with humidity. Velvety sort of fabric underneath you -still felt quite offensive to sit on, and the detailing of the carriage seemed extensive. All wood carvings seemed to almost be the work of a hand -detailed beyond what you could truly comprehend.
If you weren't so antsy to see the man, you would've tried a little harder to digest some of the work.
You truly hadn't even noticed you'd stopped moving.
Mr. Dixon spoke, pulling open the door with practiced ease, "Ms. Greene, welcome to the Grimes Alexandrian Estate."
You shook your head, gathering your thoughts and taking his hand to step out onto the courtyard -it was in yet another light this time. The beautifully shining sun of the early morning set a sort of liveliness to the area -shrubs a beautiful green and the gentle trickle of fountains welcomed on your ears. It was how it was to be viewed, you supposed.
Not as gloomy as the rainy, cloudy turmoil, or as static as the night of the ball -a rather electric sort of energy of all those there, excitement and crowds of those who wished to dance the night away. It was only filled with a few faces this morning, trimming some of the hedges and tending to a few of the extra plants. You'd found something wonderful about seeing the estate so natural despite it being such a normal day -it continued to be breathtaking.
You were lost in the effect, standing there rather aimlessly, and you supposed that was why he'd snuck up on you.
"Ms. Greene."
You startled, just slightly, as you settled upon him. He was much how he was the night before -dirted sleeves and hair askew, you'd assumed he'd been working out here. Perhaps it was a hobby of his?
"Mr. Grimes," you echoed, a little breathless -as you were nearly any time you saw him, eyes trailing to the dirt upon his sleeves, "-busy, are you?"
"Right," he spoke -eyes trailing to his own sleeves, almost in embarrassment, "-you'll have to forgive my matter of dress, I was workin' on my garden-"
"Your garden?" You questioned, rather genuinely with a smile split across your face -near giddy that you spoke to him, "-And no need, it suits you well."
"You're much too kind, Ms. Greene," he hummed, a little bashful -you found it rather sweet, "-but yes, my garden. I find it relaxing after such work days, my Mother... She cared for it intently. I share such passions."
"If you wish to," you started -hesitantly, as it seemed such a personal endeavor, "-I shall be delighted to see it one day."
Mr. Grimes stalled for a moment before a rather fond look flickered over his face -one that ever so often raised the crimson to your cheeks, "'At would be lovely. Perhaps later? The evenin' light is terrific for such viewin'."
"Oh," you smiled, rather teasingly, "-I suppose I shall see."
"Are ya to be a harsh critic, then?"
"Only if you want me to be, Mr. Grimes," you replied, as he guided you up the stairs and to the door. Always linked by the arm, your head merely swam at such closeness, "- do you treat all such guests to such pleasantries? Leading them up the stairs at your expense?"
He grinned, a bit of laughter dancing upon his tongue -you'd nearly grinned brighter at the sound, "Certainly not."
"Oh really," you responded -tone exaggerated, "-so I'm a special case, am I?"
Mr. Grimes hummed -a sort of fondness in his voice that made his accent seem ever more prominent, "Rightly so."
"You-" you flustered, still gently attached at the side, "You are too good at such things."
"What things?" He asked -curiously, but there was something gleaming in his eye, something rather playful.
"Flattery," you answered -rather promptly, "-you speak it so fluidly."
"Only for you," he urged, turning his attention fully to you, "-you must kno', it's only for you."
"Mr. Grimes..."
"Shall we head in?" He hummed -eyes still on you rather fondly, "-We have much to speak of."
You hummed, squeezing your hand against his arm -comforting, "Okay."
It was still wonderful to see, despite you being here frequently. All the paintings of wondrous detail -you could nearly see each paint stroke, and part of you wondered just how long it would take to craft such a thing. You'd wished to have your own one day but the expense was far too wide for it to be realistic.
"The paintings," you started, low tone echoing in the empty entry, "-Do you commission them often?"
"No," he started -slow steps in tune with yours as he looked upon the paintings, "-I request 'em upon special occasion."
"Such as?"
Mr. Grimes paused for a moment, before guiding you to the opposite end of the hall -a painting as large as the family portrait you'd seen on a much less happy day. It detailed what you realized to be a very young Judith -wrapped in a blush sort of blanket, pinky red of her cheeks as she slept away. It reminded you of a young Beth, all wonderous blonde curls -you'd mostly seen the girl in photographs, but Judith looked nearly identical to so. She wasn't alone, instead was held tightly by what you recognized to be his son whom you had yet to meet. He looked starkly like his father, it made you wonder if he acted as such.
"When Judith was born," he confirmed, in a wistful sort of voice -he cared for his children, it was rather endearing. It always had been, even upon when you met him -Judith's behavior spoke volumes of the man.
"That's your son?" you asked.
"Carl," Mr. Grimes clarified, "-I'd wish for ya to meet if you weren't opposed."
"I'd be rather delighted to."
He merely smiled brighter at you, the kind that crinkled by his eyes -it always pleased you to see. And as you looked upon the family portrait where he seemed rather solemn, you found you much preferred the Mr. Grimes at your side. Happy, smiling-
He led you down a selection of hallways, each a touch more ravishing than the last -shining vases and detailed trim. It wasn't exactly a printed sort of wallpaper, just rather a vivid sort of color -not to distract from the paintings across the walls. A sort of elegant simplicity.
"Would you mind steppin' in my office to talk? Mr. Dixon shall remain at the door for proper etiquette."
"Wherever you wish," you spoke, softer than you intended but you found you were rather fond of him.
And as you entered the office, you stared at the rather extensive bookshelves and large window facing out into the backyard. It was framed beautifully so, all white wooden trim. You were drawn to the sight, beautiful pastures of flowing green grass. Right in the center sat his kids, enraptured in some sort of game -Carl intently swinging a few dolls around as if he was performing. Under the watchful eye of some staff, of course.
You smiled, trailing your fingers over the glass, "They seem to be enjoying themselves out there. Is it often they play together?"
Mr. Grimes followed you to the sight, a sort of hazy smile rattling across his face, "Very often, Carl has adapted well. I'm very proud of 'im, really."
"That is something quite special, I remember when I was young-" you laughed lightly -memories flashing behind your eyes, "-Maggie nearly trailed around me for years, I was told that I was rather frustrated."
"Really?"
"Oh yes," you relented, turning your attention to him, "-it's an ordeal losing a parent's attention in any capacity, Mr. Grimes. Even further when someone starts to follow you around and take your things-"
He laughed, a sort of bright twinkle, "When ya say it like 'at, I'd find I'd be upset myself."
"As you should."
Mr. Grimes laughed even louder, your heart squeezing in your chest at being the cause of such a noise. I shall wish to never be without it-
"I know-" he started -hollowing out from the laughter to something more serious, perhaps what he wished to tell you, "-I know it was difficult for 'im. When... When she was pregnant."
You hummed, turning all your attention to him -listening, "How so? Perhaps, I could help explain as... as an eldest myself."
He paused, eyed trailing along his children out the window, "The typical things, just- Just not bein' the only one, I suppose."
"It's difficult to come to terms with," you spoke -rather heavy with intent.
You loved your sisters, dearly, but you'd often realized that you became quite an adult rather quickly. It was less of their fault, though, and more evident of the situation. A sick mother and an overworked father, you slotted in to help where you could.
You imagined Carl in the situation you'd only known from rumors. Without a mother, a rather heartbroken father, and a younger sister to care for. It rang rather true to you.
"Lori-" he interrupted your thoughts, seeming to slowly speak through his thought process, "-Lori left after Judith was born. I... I knew what had happened by then, I knew what... what she intended-"
You moved without thinking, extending your hand to turn his face towards you -skin upon his own. It was improper, and you knew so, but something in you urged to comfort him -to aid him somehow-
"It doesn't mean you were ready for her to leave."
Mr. Grimes was silent then, blue eyes intently focused on you -perhaps surprised by such contact, but not... not unnerved, you could see. He merely stalled for a moment, you held your breath -nervous, truly. You hadn't been thinking-
Then, he leaned into your hand. Skin touching in a sort of delicate way as if it soothed him -as if you could do so. Something in your stomach flipped at the idea, a wondrous sort of buzz detailing under your skin -love, love, love rattling in your chest.
"I can't imagine what you went through," you spoke, thumb brushing lightly against his cheekbone, "-at all. But I... I'd like to listen. If you wish to tell."
He sighed, a rumble against your skin, as his blue, blue, blue eyes settled across your face -a touch cloudier than before, "I do. I... I want ya to know everythin', Ms. Greene, everythin'."
"Okay," you whispered -rather teary yourself.
With a shaky breath, he guided you to a seat -cushioned, against the wall next to the window. It was nearly as velvety as the carriage interior, but you couldn't find your focus on its texture. You stared rather intently at Mr. Grimes, eager to listen, to soothe-
"I suppose I'm jus' not sure where to start," he spoke, hand wiping away at his eyes -you wished to do it yourself, honestly but has to control the urges.
You responded, tone rather balanced, "Perhaps at the beginning? With... with Lori?"
He hummed -thinking on it maybe, before deciding, "I believe I should start earlier. My... My childhood."
"As long as you're certain," you remanded, tone unshaken, stable.
"I am, very," he responded without hesitancy, you were sure to search for it, "-Ms. Greene I always fully intended to tell you everythin' and let you decide. There's no hesitation on my part."
"This is..." you paused, "-Your childhood is a part of the explanation?"
"It is, rather-" he hummed, "-I wish to tell ya of an old friend of mine."
You'd assumed so, rumors swirling in your head but found you'd only wished to hear it from here. From him. It was one thing to know it from whispers and entirely another from the direct source -from someone so dear to you. And yet, you wanted him to know you'd heard it -in whatever capacity, "Mr. Walsh."
"We grew up together," he spoke -a sort of bittersweet note in his tone that made you wish to soothe, "-I remember we used to help out in the yard, workin'. My father never made it easy for me, probably why I like workin' outside so much these days."
You thought for a moment, merely watching him for a moment. Before linking your hand to his arm -as if he'd been walking with you, fingertips just above the crease of the elbow and roaming closer to his side. And perhaps it was improper, but you wished to support him.
"We planned to attend the same schools, live in the same city, it was all rather planned out. When I met Lori..." he responded -echoing a sort of hollow note, "-he seemed to believe I had left him behind."
Mr. Grimes echoed, a little watery, "I knew, I knew... he wished to have a family. Be married, have children... I suppose he thought I stole it from him."
"You must know that you didn't," you soothed, "-your life did not indicate his-"
"I do, I kno'," he exhaled, and something in his voice shook, "-I jus' tried so desperately to explain his actions. To explain... what happened."
"Mr. Grimes," you urged, "-if you're not comfortable, I request-"
"Before Lori left," he continued -a little aimlessly but heavier in tone, "-She became pregnant."
"I cannot imagine the turmoil of something so happy to something so-"
"Ms. Greene," his tone leveled, almost as if he was begging -holding your hands together before you, "-I must request what I say subsequent stays between the parties in this room."
"Of course," you spoke -confident, "-I'd never dream of speaking to something that wasn't mine to share."
"I wouldn't truly mind if it only affected me," he clarified, "-as someone with a fortune, you become to expect some things. But this-"
"Mr. Grimes," you tilted to match his eyes, "-I would never betray your trust so. If you wish it, I shall take it to the grave."
He paused, blue eyes bright smoothing over your face in a rather hazy sort of glance -as if he couldn't quite believe what you were saying, "Thank you, Ms. Greene. I-"
"No need," you hummed -soft and delicate, "-I suppose I'd be rather disingenuous if I were to say I love you and expect anything from you for it."
"Ms. Greene-"
"Later," you knew what he wished to speak of, it wasn't the proper time, "-there are more pressing matters that we must address first, okay?"
It bubbled up from his chest as if the words had been waiting -had he never spoken of this? A sort of eruption along his lips, you could almost feel the relief from the breath of the words. It hadn't meant that you had expected them, however.
"Judith... She's-" he moved through them slowly -as if it hurt, "-She's not mine."
#fanfic reviews#besties#actually sobbing and crying rn#ily đ„č#hes a farm boy at heart on god#and even when this story was just a concept I truly knew that Judith would be quite the situation#i was debating the situation even then and how to handle it#when I stumbled onto this concept it felt really natural to indicate the progression of the relationship without the physical contact to do#bc its regency era its very nuanced#i was trying desperately to get my very own like hand scene from p&p#using environments to convey it rather than physical motions#anyway#the trust this required was one of the ways to convey just how serious rick was about the reader#i have such a thing for cradling his face on god-#and rick grimes is nothing without his children i knew that before I started writing anything#love you bestie <333
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DREAMER GIRL SLEEPOVER | my mind is a mess, how about yours? (finished)
i had terrible focus lately and i barely managed to catch up with my school work and other things, that kinda ended up with me being away from here not writing fics and i intend to fix that <33 please join me, i know you're probably tired from everything so just let this sleepover be an escape for you
characters included;
aemond targaryen
aegon ii targaryen
robb stark
james potter
sirius black
remus lupin
poly!wolfstar
poly!marauders
daryl dixon
rick grimes
here's how it works!
â you can send me a concept with one of the characters above and i'll make a moodboard for you
â you can send me a time (like 12.00 am) with a character and i'll write a short blurb
â you can send me a song lyric you love with a character and i'll write a short blurb inspired by it
â you can come to my inbox and tell me anything you want; complain, cry, get angry, laugh or literally anything. this blog is a safe space to share your daily inconveniences, you know i have plenty of them myself
â you can recommend a movie, a song, a book, a make up product you love or hate
â you can give me a simple scenario with a character and i'll write a blurb
-your asks with characters can be for fluff, smut, hurt/comfort, or angst. i'll make sure to try my best.
-you can send as many asks as you want, but please send them separately
-when you send me an ask about what you think or give me a rec, i'll reply it by telling you my opinion or give you a rec back to make the whole sleepover like a big conversation.
-i don't know how long the sleepover will last, it depends on how much you guys like it and participate, but i'll make sure trying to answer everything you send and i'll let you know before we end it.
thank you for being here with me, i hope we have fun âĄ
-dae.
#dreamer girl sleepover âĄ#aemond targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen x you#aegon ii targaryen x reader#robb stark#a song of ice and fire#robb stark x reader#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter x reader#james potter x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#poly!wolfstar x reader#poly!wolfstar#poly!wolfstar x you#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#daryl dixon#rick grimes#daryl dixon x reader#rick grimes x reader
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the boy is mine âËâĄâĄ
rick grimes x black!fem! reader
since heâd arrived in alexandria, you and rick have gone from complete strangers to close friends. youâd proven to be extremely useful to his team-after all, you were a great shot and had skin tougher than steel. but now, youâve started seeing rick in a different, more romantic light. will your newly-developed crush on the police officer be reciprocated as youâd dreamed?
summary: you and rick go on a run for supplies. some hidden feelings get uncovered along the way.
NOTE: this fic takes place in alexandria era BEFORE negan (iâm guessing like s6 bc i forgot)
a/n: MY FIRST FIC EVER AAAAA iâm hoping its ok bc iâm literally just going w the flow lmao
also sorry ts took so fucking long i still have school n stuff guys đđœđ
genre: fluff, angst, hurt, comfort idk
warnings: blood, zombies, cursing, use of n word, near-death experience
ây/n! you ready to head out?â, rick yelled as he leaned against a silver sedan parked in front of Alexandriaâs gates.
after finding yourself caught in a conversation with maggie and glenn, you quickly swooped your head around to acknowledge the gruff man, your eyes widening at the sound of his southern drawl lingering on your name.
âyeah, Iâm cominâ!â you croaked, creasing your lips into a nervous smile. after a moment, you made your way over to his car, backpack slung over your back.
you and rick were headed to a small, nearby grocery store that an old-time alexandrian claimed was hidden away from the frequent commotion of the town. there was a 50/50 chance that it mightâve or mightâve not been looted, but you both werenât willing to skimp out on this rare opportunity. after all, the community was running short on food and supplies-it started getting obvious that it was once people were given smaller portion sizes than normal.
and it was you who, stupidly enough, agreed to check out the area with none other than your best friend youâve been harboring a crush on, rick grimes.
you were intrigued with the man from the moment he stepped foot into alexandria-he lowkey terrified you, him AND his group, but that only sparked your urge to get to know them a bit more. you didnât actively seek interaction with them- it was by really by circumstance when you had the chance to kinda intermingle with them all. you forgot how you and rick even met each other, to be honest. he knew you were a good shot and had skin tough as nails, thatâs for sure. you had grown into something of a maternal figure for Carl, his teenage son, although it took a while for him to finally warm up to you. you couldnât blame him, to be honest. you knew heâd been through some rough shit-he told you about his mom and what he was forced to do to her after sheâd been bitten and just delivered judith, his month-old half-sister. nonetheless, you and rick were both each otherâs rocks; he cared for you unlike anyone else in alexandria, and you adored certain things about him-his deep, southern voice when he gently called your name. the traces of vanilla and bourbon cologne left on his clothes despite sweating all day-most of the time he didnât even bother trying to put it on, but the days he did, you subconsciously noticed. him surprising you with 90âs rnb album CDs that heâd snatched on his runs- once heâd surprised you with a whole erykah badu album, and since then, youâve kept it under lock and key inside your nightstand. his damp, ruffled hair as he stops by your house for a towel to dry it off because he never seemed to have any of his own; you let him in without much question, of course, but for the past few weeks heâs been on your porch steps, your heartâs been pumping at speeds youâve never experienced before-at least, not in a while-a zombie apocalypse ruins oneâs concept of love when the one youâre in love with can slip from your fingers in a heartbeat.
but could it be? could you really be in love with your best friend in a zombie apocalypse? you were sure of it, but horrified to know if he felt the same, which is why you didnât even realize your leg was was anxiously bouncing up and down on the floor of the car untilâŠ
ây/n. you alright?â
âhuh? oh y-yeah, iâm good. whatâs wrong?â
ânothinâ, youâre just..extra quiet.â
âdo i need to start talkinâ?â you didnât mean for that to come off as rude as it did. you were just nervous, nervous about what heâd tell you if you told him how you truly felt.
âno, no, itâs fine. you donât gotta say nothinâ if you donât feel like it.â
aww shit, now i feel bad, you thought. you tried your hardest not to sink into the car seat in shame so he wouldnât notice yet another thing off about you today. you tilted your head to the window.
âwe made it.â in what seemed like a flash, you and Rick were parked outside the convenience store. did you zone out that hard? not that it mattered anymore. you climbed out of the car and you both took a closer look at the store. it was abandoned all right-at least, it couldâve just looked that way-but it still looked intact. untouched by the world. you hoped that would also apply to whatever awaited inside.
bigger than what i thought itâd be, you thought as you peered at the building.
âbigger than i thought it would be.â rick said aloud.
is this nigga reading my mind..? you thought. âletâs just hope thereâs no walkers on the inside.â you said in an attempt to reassure yourself that there were no undead lurking around.
You looked back at Rick for a response or some sort of agreement, but when you did, out of the corner of your eye you saw him damn near snap his neck just to stare back at the store. he cleared his throat loudly. the gesture alone radiated an anxious energy, something you had almost never sensed in the man since knowing him. it was kinda like he was afraid of getting caughtâŠwaitâŠ
..was rick staring at you? and how long had you gone without even noticing?
if he was staring, it certainly wasnât for no reason. you are undoubtedly stunning, so much in fact that some people were envious of your beauty before and during the apocalypse. your rich, brown skin, glistening in the hot, june sun, and your thick, coily hair, pulled into a low puff, were just a few of your most admirable features, both inside and out.
shaking the thought off your mind, you both finally approached the building, carefully peeling open its glass doors and sliding inside. you knew the drill already, but rick felt the need to tell you again, which wasnât to your surprise at this point. âiâll take the left side, you take the right. weâll use our walkies to communicate-if youâre in trouble, iâll be right there, alright?â you nodded in compliance-you both knew you could handle yourself-but you couldnât help but bite down a smile when he said that. his low, whispery voice was strangely reassuring, like he cared for you as a lover instead of a friend. you felt your cheeks begin to burn-itâs not really like he could tell anyway, for obvious reasons, but also because it was dark as hell in the store- you assumed the owners didnât survive long enough to pay the electricity bill.
you were shocked to see that the aisles were just barely looted-you weâre expecting them to show signs of being scavenged at least a bit, but there they were, filled to the brim with food that would just about save Alexandria from starvation.
you clicked on your walkie and held it up to your mouth. âholy shit.â is all that could manage to come out of your mouth right now.
âlooks like we hit the jackpot.â rick replied on the on the other line. he already knew what your âholy shitâ meant.
with caution, you strolled down the âcanned goodsâ aisle, looking up and down each section in awe. you came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the rows, gazing at everything in stock until your eyes settled on a can of peaches. you knew they were probably expired, you expected everything else in there to be, but you were curious to see what the expiration date read on its back, to see how long itâd been since the world went to hell. you held the can in your left hand, examining the date on its back: 10/18/09; itâd been expired a year before the apocalypse even beganâŠ
didnât think itâd be that expired.., you murmured to yourself as you creased your lips into a disgusted frown. just as you began to set the specimen back on the shelf, a loud thud from underneath the rack sent it bouncing upwards, startling you so badly that the can slipped from your fingers and splattered onto the floor into a mushy mess. somehow, there was a walker under there, reaching its pale, maggot-infested limbs out to grasp at your leg. your eyes immediately traveled to the undead as you quickly thought of how you could quickly end its 2nd life. you frantically tugged your imprisoned foot backwards in an attempt to break free, reaching into your leather sheath and pulling out your dagger halfway, but, soon enough, you were met with an even more terrifying scenario. your back clashed violently with the rack behind you, and a walker on the other side, suddenly aroused by the sound and the smell of your human flesh, reached its spindly hand through a wide, open hole in the decaying rack. its hand curled around your throat with enough pressure to keep you pinned to the shelf while you also tried to free your leg from the walker below you.
âRICK, I NEED HELP!â you yelled out into the aisle. it was a risky move and could probably attract even more walkers than what was already threatening you, but you couldnât get a good grip on your dagger and that was the only weapon you had. calling for backup was the only option you had left.
the oncoming presence of death pricked at prodded at your skin like thorns. the thought that-in that moment, you could be bitten, and all of your hopes and ambitions for the future could immediately be crushed-left you speechless, stricken with terror.
just as the walker grabbing at your neck prepared to take a bite out of it, rick appeared and stabbed it right in its head. just after you finally freed yourself from its grasp, the man noticed the walker on the ground and stomped on its skull, leaving a bloody, mushy mess on the floor, but you were too panicked to even notice.
an exasperated sigh escaped your mouth. âoh my God, rick, youâre a lifesaver-â
your rushed, panicky words were interrupted when he suddenly crashed his lips onto yours. your eyes immediately widened at the sensation of his coarse lips pressing onto yours, soft and plump, then slowly fluttered shut. your breathing, at first rapid and filled with anxiety, had simmered down into slow and steady breaths as his lips passionately devoured yours. almost subconsciously, he trailed his right hand, roughened with scars and calluses, on the nape of your neck, holding you closer than ever before as he rested his left hand on your hip. his ocean blue eyes drifted shut as he explored you, desperate for your touch, before he slowly pulled away from the kiss to give you some time to breathe. you fluttered your eyes back open and waited for him to look up at you.
âiâm-iâm sorry, i shouldnât have done that, just so randomly. fuckâŠâ rick babbled rapid apologies before a frustrated, shaky sigh escaped from his mouth. without thinking, you cupped his cheek, burning with the embarrassment of his decision, and leaned into him, rewarding him with a kiss of your own; it only seemed fair after he saved your life and your heart in only a matter of seconds. his eyes fluttered shut at your touch as your other hand tangled into his neatly combed hair. you let the feeling of your lips gently pressed together linger for a few seconds before you slowly pulled away. you felt your heart buzzing with excitement but also with relief, now that you knew that heâd been storing feelings for you this entire time. a confident grin appeared on your face as you looked up at him.
âi like you too, grimes.â
-the end. â.àłàż*:
#black reader#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x black reader#twd rick#the walking dead#andrew lincoln#new fanfic#black!fem!reader#x black fem reader#rick grimes x black!fem! reader#x poc reader#rick grimes x poc reader#daryl dixon x reader#rick grimes fluff#friends to lovers#my man my man my man#I need him so bad I swear to GODDD#erm anyways!#poc!reader#black!reader
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â° [ kinktober '23 & '24 m. list ] â°
-> welcome, you've been granted exclusive access to this October's spiciest VHS collection. indulge in your most daring fantasies and become immersed in sinful stories that will leave you gasping and crying out in pleasure terror!
quick a.n.: I've finally had some time and inspiration to write (yay!!) and im so excited to share my love for kinktober once again. This masterlist has been split between 2 years because I love this concept, and I need to make one hell of a comeback. You may also notice a new addition of the SW fandom
â ïž disclaimer: this is 18+, so mdni. Also, these dates are subject to change, but I am making it my upmost priority to see that all of these will be completed
âž 10 : 04 | â VIRGINITY KINK â
STARRING: SEBASTIAN MICHAELIS & READER
âž 10 : 08 | â PERVERSION + PANTY THIEF â
STARRING: NOZEL SILVA & READER
âž 10 : 13 | â PRIMAL PLAY â
STARRING: DARYL DIXON & READER
âž 10 : 18 | â THREESOME + MASTER KINK â
STARRING: ANAKIN SKYWALKER, OBI-WAN KENOBI, & READER
âž 10 : 22 | â SEX TAPE + AGE GAP + SQUIRTING â
STARRING: RICK GRIMES & READER
âž 10 : 27 | â WAX PLAY + PRAISE â
STARRING: UNDERTAKER & READER
âž 10 : 31 | â ORAL/GAG REFLEX TRAINING â
STARRING: NEGAN & READER
Ready to press play?
#kinktober 2024#kinktober 2023#kinktober masterlist#sebastian michaelis x reader#negan x reader#rick grimes x reader#anakin x reader#obi wan x reader#nozel silva x reader#undertaker x reader#daryl dixon x reader#black clover imagine#black butler scenarios#black butler fanfiction#twd smut#star wars smut#twd imagine#star wars imagine
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THE TALK
carl grimes x fem reader (season 5 era)
WARNINGS: mentions of making out, both characters are 16, no smut because characters are underage, mentions of being caught, father and son argument, angry Glenn, slight angry Maggie, accusation of sex, fem reader, mentions of parent loss, mentions of sex, mentions of 'the talk', mentions of pregnancy, talk of consent, talk of sexual situations between teens, mentions of hormones
a/n: enjoy this because after this happy one there's gonna be two more Carl one-shots except it's gonna be angst :))
-
her hands were pressed against Carl's cheeks while she was soaking into the embrace of their kiss, their mouths moving so rapidly while she could feel him tugging at her t-shirt and of course she so damn eagerly let him pull it off of her.
she smiled happily as a moan was pushed into her mouth from him, in reality they were both just exploring how they felt in the real world, learning the concept of sex and virginity was an all new ballpark.
y/n knew what sex was, so did Carl it wasn't any secret to what it was or the way babies were made, his mother had that talk with him when he was just a boy and well y/n learned on her own since she never really had parents to take after her.
of course they were virgins, in the apocalypse there wasn't very much virginity losing going on, not with Rick and Glenn breathing down both of their backs like the walkers were.
and besides they never really seemed to have the talk with each other because it was something they both knew would come at the right time for each other and well when they believed the time was right it truly never was for them because they would make out and straddle each other until someone knocked at Carl's door and she'd be forced to hide in the closet or he would hide in hers.
she tangled one of her hands in his hair to get a better grip while she propped herself up in his lap to get a better leverage and to maybe feel his hips bucking up at her.
she hummed into his mouth while his hands groped at her body, she let his hands explore from her shoulders down to her breasts until he was rubbing small circles at her hips from the jeans he slightly pulled down to reveal more of her waist for him.
he was rubbing small circles once he found out she was enjoying it, but as she threw her hips up to him the door opened and shocked Atlanta sheriff stood with a loud sound of his voice,
"God dammit Carl! really!" Rick yelled covering his eyes so he couldn't see the girl with only a bra covering her upper half, Carl rushed a t-shirt from the floor on her as Glenn stepped into the room watching as she adjusted her hair with an awkward smile.
"Jesus Carl really c'mon we're in the middle of a god damn apocalypse and now you choose to do this?!" Rick asked looking over as Glenn furrowed his brows and looked over at y/n who was looking down at the wooden tile of the floor below them.
"you usually knock!" Carl shouted in defense looking over at still the confused Glenn who had his arms folded, "what the hell is going on?" he shouted feeling his wife step next to him.
"caught these two going at it" Rick remarked folding his arms as he took a step into the bedroom, "YOU HAD SEX?" Maggie shouted watching as y/n and Carl rapidly shook their head.
"No! dad don't say that! we weren't having sex" Carl huffed putting on his sheriffs hat that was resting on the night stand, "just making out" y/n added feeling the dad eyes soak into her.
she had been with Glenn ever since the start, she lost her father at a young age so she adapted to Glenn,
she had found Glenn when the entire thing started when she was just the same age as Carl, he protected her and now he was her Dad, it's what he was meant for, protecting y/n like his actual daughter just like how Maggie treated her.
"i'm sorry Glenn" she mumbled rubbing her arm softly while she and Carl took a seat on the bed from Rick's hand gesture for them to plant a seat on the bed,
"what if you get pregnant? there are so many risks to this, you could maybe ask for condoms?" Glenn spoke watching as y/n cringed externally and Carl made a disgusted face.
"think it's disgusting now but just wait til wearing a condom matters, besides having a baby is to dangerous especially in these times" Maggie spoke gently as she approached y/n rubbing her shoulder.
"are you mad?" she asked looking up at the adults in the room they all shook their head 'no' in response, "we need you to be safe even if you think it's embarrassing you guys" Rick spoke rubbing over some of the stubble of his beard on his face.
"promise if you have questions or if you need protection you'll ask us or even just go to the pantry and get some as long as your safe that's all it matters and well as long as you both consent" Maggie spoke flicking her eyes at both of the teens.
they both nodded while y/n sprouted a smile on her face, "yes ma'am" she replied while Carl replied the same response and adjusted his hat slightly so it wasn't as crooked.
"be safe kiddos, think about that for next time" Glenn spoke propping a smile on his face, after all they were just foolish teens, teens with hormones that were exploring all of the boundaries and just daring to break some of the rules put in place for them.
Maggie and Glenn stepped out of the room looking as Rick planted one of his feet against the wall while he leaned against it, "so does that mean we can continue what we were doing?" Carl asked hopeful that his father would've said yes.
"you have work and i expect you to be out and dressed in two minutes you hear me, after two minutes i burst in here" he spoke shutting the door behind him.
"that went well" Carl spoke slipping back on a t-shirt while he looked over at her, she had a smile planted on her face.
"i think it did"
#carl grimes#carl grimes x reader#carlgrimes#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes fluff#rickgrimesmut#rick grimes x reader#rick smut#maggie rhee#maggie twd#glen rhee#glenn twd#glenn rhee#rick twd#twd fanfiction#twd carl#twd daryl#daryl dixon#daryl x reader
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- being with rick but also being the biggest brat known to man <3
youâre forever disobeying his orders and purposely winding him up. you canât find anything else that gives you the same feeling that he does when he glares at you, his jaw clenching with the promise of what will happen to you later glinting in his eyes. heâs definitely a harsh punisher and thereâs a rare occasion you take it bravely with weepy eyes and ââm sorryâ given over to him willingly. most of the time though your attitude continues on through it, telling him he can do better as he brings his hand down on your ass harshly. the only way for him to really put you in your place is to fuck it right out of you until youâre trembling in his arms, all traces of your previous mood gone.
however, this all changes when he starts spending time away from alexandria to go on runs etc. missing him turns you needy and as soon as he gets back to your home you jump into his arms, one of his shirts clinging to your frame. youâre eager and clingy, big eyes pleading with him to make you feel better. rick is usually tired and heâll sink into the sofa, tapping his thigh for you. âcïżœïżœmere sweetheart,â heâd urge, eyes alight with adoration as you get yourself comfortable on his lap. âsee, you can be a good girl when you wanna be, canât you?â
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Haunting Fear of the Dead
Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, implied (small) age gap, survivors guilt etc
Pairing: Rick Grimes x reader
Summary: Neganâs aftermath served as the last straw to instill in you, the belief that nothing lasts forever.
Word count: 1k
...
The conversation rings in the back of my mind, and your face dominates my thoughts. That despairing, lost expression still makes me wonder whether I crossed the line.
Life is moving too fast, and the overwhelming concept of inevitable death, and her vivid memory haunt me.
The idea, that you may see her in my eyes...
Things fall apart, and I'll never be her.
I knew Lori for no more than a week before she died. And now I've known you for several years, yet she hasn't left my side. Has she left yours?
Your wife and I couldn't be more different.
A troubled, younger girl, who can't help how unloveable she feels. How vulnerable I am. How susceptible I am to doubt. Versus the mother of your child. Your woman before the fall.
How can I compare? How can you love me? After this tragedy and loss, how can I return your love?
Maybe these are all the things I shouldâve conveyed, but the moments gone, and Iâll never get you back Rick.
âŠ
"If ya sigh one more time girl, I'll smack you," Daryl intimidates passively, and I snap my obscure stare at him below my post. Then, looking at the world outside these metal walls, one last time, I turn to the ladder. "Call Rosita, I'm tired."
"Nuh-uh, if I'm here all night, so are ya," He challenges, catching my gaze. He holds it before scoffing in defeat, obviously feeling guilty, after viewing my sorrowful appearance.
As I pass him, he grips my forearm. "I know things are bad right now, but yer a survivor," he murmurs, full of pity. "And if ya ain't gonna believe in yerself, believe in Rick." He trails off, and I nod to make him loosen his grip, so I may walk away.
Things just blew over with the Saviours, now that Negan is behind bars. But regardless, death plagues my conscience. How can I think my happiness is important, or everlasting when my survival is just dumb luck?
Ending things with Rick rang so much truth to that.
Now lonely and isolated, I only have myself to blame. Since confusion and indecision left my bed empty, my head is full of profuse distress.
To this day, after weeks, I'm still unsure of what I was trying to achieve -what I was running from, and why was it him?
No, I know...
I feel it again, her looming behind me. Lori. Whispering stories of their pleasant life together before Walkers existed.
Her ghost regularly tells me how life would be different if it wasn't the end times. She remarks how Rick wouldn't look my way if I wasn't his only option.
My rapid imagination slows to silence when I pass his house. I picture Carl on his porch bouncing Judith to sleep, and misery brutally latches onto me, forcing me to remember what is lost.
'You left him when he needed you the most...' Lori breathes.
Tears prick my eyes, and I bite my bottom lip to reduce its trembling. Then, a call of my name drags me out of the dark, and I seek out its source.
"Rick?" I reply, swallowing my cry and straightening my back. Blinking frantically, I assess him as he marches towards me, seeing concern playing across his features.
'Good things aren't meant to last...'
"How are you?" I croak.
"Fine," he stammers slightly, "you?"
"I'm well," I lie pathetically, and even though he clearly doesn't believe me, he accepts my response nonetheless.
"Shouldn't you be patrolling the wall?" He questions hesitantly.
"Yeah, but Rosita offered to take over, to let me rest you know?" I murmur with a shrug like I'm asking him to confirm my lies. He nods again, seeming just as awkward. "Need me to walk you back?" Rick proposes, motioning his pointer in the direction of my place. "No," I utter flatly, far too fast. He gulps, unable to hide his dejected manner.
A beat later I wordlessly amble away, but he hollers my name again, and I freeze, whirling around, brows furrowing. "Can I walk you back?" He urges this time, and his dilated pupils hold such fervour and desperation, that I give in. "Okay," muttering, I look to the ground as he jogs to my side.
Walking closely together, we're uncomfortably quiet. I peer at him and see his eyes squeezed shut as he inhales, expanding his chest to its limit.
"Rick?" I mumble. His eyelids pop open, and he swivels his head to mine, brows raised.
"Why are you," exhaling, "forcing yourself to-" I cut myself short, and he grasps my meaning. "I'm not forcing myself to do anything," Rick rasps. "If anything, I'm forcing you, to be with me," he drops my befuddled stare. "I'm sorry," he grunts.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," I splutter as a wave of grief, racks through me. "I'm the one with problems," my meek voice gets choppy.
The pace of his legs falter. "Problems," he echoes, puffing a soundless laugh in disbelief. "Problems I want to hear," he more or less pleads. I faintly shake my head.
When I stagger, Rick stops moving completely, and captures my hand, yanking me squarely to him. I take in how alarmed his features appear and again, wish I was alone so I could cry.
"C'mon beautiful, talk to me," he begs, cupping my hand in both his palms, and when he utters my name of endearment, I finally break.
Liquid flows down my cheeks, and Rick, with his thumbs, hopelessly tries to sweep them aside. But the more his rough pads graze my skin, and he pulls me closer, adorning me with such affection, the more tears stream.
He wraps his sturdy arms around my smaller frame, tugging me tightly to his chest, and I collapse into him. He holds me upright when my knees buckle, and simply lets me cry.
"I broke up with you, why on Earth are you consoling me?" I sob, words escaping my mouth in messy bundles.
Sighing, "Because I love you," Rick's voice grows rocky, "and I hate to break it to you," he chokes up, "that isn't gonna change, just 'cause ya don't feel the same."
His statement makes a louder cry erupt. But, I struggle to muster the courage to dispel, the third lie told tonight.
Of course I love him.
"I'm here, always," he soothes, nuzzling his nose into the crook of my neck, and I feel water drip onto my nape.
As my arms encase his shaking body, Lori materializes behind me.
Reminding me, for the hundredth time:
I don't deserve Rick Grimes, and I never will.
#rick grimes#angst#twd daryl#twd#the walking dead#twd imagine#the walking dead imagine#twd angst#rick grimes angst#michonne grimes#rick grimes fanfiction#rick grimes fluff#twd towl#andrew lincoln#the walking dead fanfiction#rick grimes fanart#the walking dead angst#rick grimes drabble#drabble#angst oneshot#daryl dixon fanfic#rick grimes smut#rick grimes fic#rick grimes imagine
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Tomorrow's promise
Pairing: Daryl Dixon Ă reader, Rick Grimes Ă sister reader
Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood
Chapter: 3.07
âAunt y/n! Aunt y/n!â Carl runs towards you holding a green balloon in the shape of a dog; he shows you it proudly. âLook what my dad made me; itâs so cool.â
Smiling, you ruffle his hair. Being surrounded by screaming kids with sticky hands and zero concept of personal space was your idea of hell, but it was worth it to see Carl enjoying his sixth birthday party. His friends from school and a few from his soccer team had attended the party being held in your brother's backyard, and now that the sugar rush and excitement of new toys were catching up with your nephew, his eyes were becoming a lot heavier as his friends started to be picked up by their parents.
You smile, feeling Shaneâs lips brush against the curve of your ear. âYou want to bail out soon? The little man looks as if heâs about to crash soon, and Lori will rope us into cleaning up.â
âHmm, what are you thinking?â
Chucking, he kisses the side of your head and then your cheek. âIâm thinking of taking my pretty girl out for dinner and a late-night movie.â
You motion to the cooler full of ice cubes and bottles of beer sitting on the opposite end of the wooden table you were standing beside. âDo you think we could sneak a few of those with us for the movie?â
âThat would be stealing, maâam.â
âWell, I know a few ways to keep out of trouble, deputy.â
Standing up, you smooth out your yellow sundress just as your brothers walk by with a couple of on-duty cops who had dropped by to suck up to Rick by giving Carl a gift. You smile politely at them before leaning back into Shaneâs embrace and quietly asking, âYou still donât like them, huh?â
âRivers and Young?â He finished the dregs in his cup. âThe kids have a lot to learn; I wouldnât want them answering a call for my mom or my girl.â
You knew Shane wasnât saying this lightly; he often gave rookies the benefit of the doubt.
Groggily, you stare up at the ceiling, feeling devoid of any real emotion as you think back on old memories. Once you had fought to push to the back of your mind because you found thinking of the chain of events that came from that party so upsetting. Jaceâs babbling pulls you from your trail of thought. He crawls up onto you, his saliva drooling onto your top. âThanks, kid.â
He babbles some more, as if he were communicating in his own way.
âYeah, yeah.â You tickle Jaceâs cheek with his finger. His smile lightens your mood slightly. âYouâre the best thing Iâve ever done, you know that?â
You slide your fingers over Jaceâs dark hair as he leans his head on your chest. Sighing, you close your eyes again, but the peacefulness only lasts for a few moments. The second you hear the noise of crutches tapping against the prison flooring, you open your eyes and sit upright.
âIs everything okay, Hershel?â
âHowâs your leg feeling today?â
When you returned to the prison, Hershel stitched up your leg to stop the bleeding, but there wasnât anything he gave you to help ease the pain. âIt feels as if itâs getting better, thanks.â
The older man leans against the cell doorway, his eyes crinkled with exhaustion. âI just thought you would want to know Glenn took Carl looking for the breach. Theyâve just come back.â
â
You stormed to the other side of the cellblock, where most of your group was gathered. Beth was humming to your niece, Judith, while Glenn explained that they didnât find the breach. Maggie looks up, surprised when she sees you looking so irritated. She forces a smile. âHowâs the little stinker doing?â
âHappy to see you,â you hand her Jace before turning to glare at Glenn. âI told you not to take Carl with you.â
Glenn lets out a frustrated sigh. âY/n, we need to find this breach fast. For all we know, our home could be filled up with walkers or the governor's men at any moment.â
âExactly, which is exactly why you shouldnât have taken a thirteen-year-old with you. Carlâs just a kid!â You wave your arm between the two of them and say, "Look at how much blood you are covered in. How many walkers did you need to kill just to get out?â
Glenn shakes his head. Instead of bonding over the trauma you had gone through together, the experience was causing friction between you. Your friendship with Glenn meant a great deal to you, but keeping Jace, Carl, and Judith safe was the most important thing.
Hershel tries to intervene and calmly says, âI still think we should go; we still have time.â
âFor the last time, we arenât running!â Glenn snaps, frustrated.
âWe should have grabbed things and left last night; this place isnât worth dying over.â In your mind, the only reason you had to stay was waiting on Daryl coming back, but you had no idea when he would return, and by then you might have all been slaughtered like cattle by the governor. âWe survived living on the road before without any transport. This time, we have multiple cars to use.â
âLast time Hershel had two legs, we didnât have a screaming baby.â
âWhat are you even talking about? Jace was with us the entire time, and we survived.â
âYeah, but we got lucky with Jace not being able to hear loud noises.â
âWhat did you just say?â
Glenn stares at you with his mouth agape. You glance at Carol and Maggie, who both lower their heads. You are in a constant state of denial, refusing to accept the reality of your situation. Jaceâs hearing wasnât what it should be, but hearing Glenn say it so harshly, it feels like a physical blow to the gut, as if he'd punched you.
âY/n-â
You lick at your dry lips, then turn to face Carl and say, âFrom now on, you only listen to me or your dad.â
Carl looks like he wants to protest, but he nods without saying anything. You take Jace from Maggie, and in a softer tone, you say, âRight, munchkin, letâs get you cleaned up.â
âY/nâ Glenn calls out, âI just meantââ
âSeriously, just leave it.â
â
Standing outside, you lean against one of the cars, watching your brother mumble to himself while wandering outside the prison gates. You had tried to get him to come back inside, but he wasnât listening. You had left Jace inside to play with the toys Daryl had found under the watchful eyes of Beth. You were well beyond being hacked off; Rick was so damn busy chasing ghosts to even notice how much you needed him; and Daryl was gone. You knew why he was gone, but you were growing tired of feeling so alone.
Hearing voices, you look over your shoulder and see Hershel chasing after Glenn on his crutches. âYouâre not going back to Woodbury, are you?â
âNo. Iâm just going out there.â
âIâll go with you,â Hershel offers.
âI got it.â
âBy yourself? How can you possibly think thatâs a good idea?â
âI canât just sit on my hands,â he resorts defensively. âIâve got to do something to keep Maggie and everyone else here safe. Iâve already failed once.â
âGlenn, nobody blames you for what happened to you and y/n. There was no way you could have known what would happen; there was no way to prevent it.â
âWith Daryl gone and Rick wandering crazy towns, Iâm the next in charge.â
âLike hell you are,â you frown, making your presence known. âYou want to keep Maggie safe, then be here to do it. I get that youâre mad and frustrated because Iâm the exact same, but we canât be making rash decisions.â
Glenn brushes by you and opens the car door without saying a word.
âWeâve already lost Shane, Lori, T-dog... I donât want you to be the next person we lose.â
Without even glancing back at you and Hershel, he drives off.
â
You and Rick exchange a look as Hershel tries to talk some sense into him, but you knew from the look in his eyes that he was too far gone to register the advice on grief the older man was giving him. Sighing, you go to the wired-up hole in the fence and start to untie it. Youâd be damned if you were leaving him as walker bait any longer; he might not have listened to you before, but now you werenât giving him a choice.
âY/n, stay behind the fence. Itâs dangerous out here.â
âNo shit-â
A bullet whizzes past your ear, narrowly missing as it skims the top of your shoulder. The sound of gunfire fills the air as you frantically scan the area for the source. Adrenaline pumping, you grab hold of Hershel and pull him with you as you drop to the ground, heart racing in your chest.
Your brother's pained voice echoes loudly, ây/n!â
You feel the heat from where the bullet grazed your skin, leaving a burning sensation. Your vision blurs momentarily as you struggle to focus amidst the chaos.
âRick, you need to get back inside the fence!â
Using the long grass of the field in the prison yard as cover, you roll onto your stomach and peak up to see the direction of the shooter and see three different men. The governor is one of them.
Son of a bitch.
Rick was pinned down, and you could hear bullets coming from the opposite side of the courtyard, which meant they had someone right outside the prison. The governor was firing bullets into the air; the way he was wasting bullets meant he had a vast supply. You watch in horror as a van crashes through the fence, and you duck down lower to avoid being seen by hun.
The stench of decay hits your nose, and at the same time, the sound of snarling hits your ears, and you realize the drivers realized walkers into the field.
âY/n, Hershel, get the hell out of there!â
Hershel fires at the undead, trying his best to keep them at bay. Knowing you donât have many bullets left, you grip the cold, rusted pole thatâs lying on the ground and use it to stab Walker in the head. With so many undead people surrounding him, the governor and his men retreat.
âFuck, there are too many of them!â
More walkers enter the field, attracted by all the noise, their eyes filled with hunger and malice. You can see their twisted limbs and rotting skin as they approach. Another wave of dread courses through you when you hear another vehicle course through, but thankfully it was Glenn returning and not another van full of walkers.
He pulls the truck over, and Michonne, who you didnât even realize was in the field, jumps inside, then Glenn drives it over to where you are. Hearing a cry for help, watch as Rick backs up against the fence, trying to fight off multiple walkers at once.
âNo, no, no!â You try to run to him, but Glenn and Michonne drag you back and force you into the truck. âWe need to go back; we canât leave him!â
âHeâs not alone!â
When the vehicle approaches the prison yard, Maggie and Carl open the gate to let the truck through. Soon as it stops, you jump and hug Carl. âAre you okay? You hurt?â
âNo, but you are.â
âIâm okay, weâre okay.â You look around and notice Axelâs body laying on the ground, he had been shot in the head. âCarl, go back instead and stay with Jace and Judith, okay?â
âIâll go with him,â Beth says, and the two of them go back inside.
You walk as close as you can to the fence without a walker being able to reach you through the holes, and you watch as Daryl and Merle fight off walkers alongside your brother.
Glenn taps your good shoulder and says, âYou should get inside so Hershel can check you over.â
âIâll wait⊠Thanks for saving our asses.â
âAlways,â he says, giving you a knowing look. âWhat the hell happened?â
âWhatever this was, itâs only the beginning.â
#the walking dead#daryl dixon/you#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x you#the walking dead fanfiction#tomorrowâs promise#tomorrowâs promise 3.07#twd fanfiction#fear the walking dead fanfiction#daryl dixion x reader#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixion fanfiction#daryl dixon x y/n
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Got this fuckin' brain worm of a cegan fic concept that I keep tossing around.
Basically Carl keeps sneaking out at night to meet with Negan, they take his car and drive just outside of city limits and most of the time their late nights end up with Carl a pathetic, sobbing mess and Negan cumming down his throat.
Then one night as Negan is pulling on the boys hair and thinking about how fucking good it feels to throat fuck him, he catches sight of a officer making his way over and as quickly as he can his buttoning his pants and pushing Carl back further into the floorboard and halfheartedly tossing a jacket over him and who else would it be but Rick Grimes. Shining his flashlight into his car and telling him he can't park there, wholly unaware that his son is trying to be as quite as possible as he gets off on the idea of his daddy finding out just how much of a mess he is.
Idk man,, it's good shit.
#cegan#proship#carl x negan#dead dove do not eat#negan x carl#grimecest#carl x rick#antis dni#pro fiction#profic
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So we see Rick refer to Michonne as his wife, but we never explicitly got a proposal scene/marriage.
And we know that pre-apocalypse, Michonne was in a long-term relationship with a child but was not married. So I decided, because it amuses me, that Michonne was just not really into marriage as a concept- "A piece of paper doesn't define our love" type. Plus as a former lawyer, maybe she saw a bunch of miserable divorces and didn't want to be part of that.
However, Rick Grimes is a certified traditional country boy and wife guy so in my head he proposed to her every 52 hours and she was just like no??? What does that even mean anymore? Who is going to marry us? Gabriel?!? That fucking weirdo??? but eventually he wore her down and successfully proposed to her with a ring on the collar of yet another cat statue.
(If any fic authors want to run with this...I wouldn't be mad)
#im going to become a one woman richonne fic prompt generator#guys idk how to write#please dont make me do it#richonne#towl#the ones who live#rick grimes#Michonne grimes
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