#seriously carl WHAT THE FUCK

[mongo-the-liensis]

Chat, is seducing your sexual abuser a power move?

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

does anybody else think that they dumbed ian and kev down a LOT as the seasons went on for comedic effect

[lesbianralzarek]

shout out to the camterie for investigating every plot hook, and shout out to the minivanarchs for accomplishing 3 tasks over the course of 8 2-hour episodes. i cannot wait to see how they all make use of their shared season 3 screentime. godspeed you funky little fledglings

[grimesgirll]

back when you were shane’s girl, rick would barely look at you.

it didn’t matter that shane was banging lori behind both your backs. rick was still nothing if not wildly respectful.

you could’ve used the company back then on the farm when your relationship with your boyfriend was slipping. when quiet tent quickies weren’t enough for you.

now, what would shane think of the girl he thought wouldn’t be able to go on without him, happily getting her guts rearranged by his best friend?

rick had held out as long as he could but with lori long gone and carl not taking up any issue, there was no reason to deny himself you. in the wake of all that tragedy, there was nothing better to ease his mind than your sweet, sweet cunt.

shane would be seriously pissed off to learn that not one but both of your holes were being filled by your fellow original atlanta camp members.

the archer that ground his gears so much was taking up your mouth with his cock, enjoying the way that every thrust of rick’s sent you straight down his length.

if shane was in the room or even in the hallway, he wouldn’t be able to miss the downright debaucherous sounds coming from the three of you. rick lands a light slap on your ass, a reminder that you’re not the only ones within these walls. rick was nothing if not wildly polite.

you wiggle your hips back into him in response, feeling your core tighten as daryl fucks your mouth. shane could never fill you up this way: he was one man after all.

the record time that shane had you soaked and coming undone was nothing compared to how fast rick and daryl warmed you up. if they even breathed in your pussy’s direction you were suddenly squeezing your legs and starting to drip with arousal.

you miss shane, but even as you clamp down on rick in your pussy and hum around daryl in your mouth, you remember that everything happens for a reason.

[carlsangel]

VIRGINITY (PART TWO)

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl get some alone time.)

tags: p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t recommend yall)

masterlist here!

read part one here!

The day you lost your virginity, everything seemed so…weird. Rick and Michonne had planned to go on a run for a couple of days and the two of you were left with Judith. You’d both asked for advice from Glenn and Maggie and while you got some pretty good advice, Carl got an awkward conversation and a condom.

This was your chance. That morning, you and Carl woke up early to say goodbye to them. “The two of you are gonna be here with Judith, okay? I have Daryl sort of keepin an eye on you so behave.” Rick tells you, packing some cans of food from the pantry into his bag. You look to Carl with sort of an annoyed look. He returns the same.

“Understand?” You both turn to Rick and nod. “Yeah we got it.” Carl replies. Now you had to figure out a way to get Daryl off your back as well. “I trust ‘em.” Michonne approaches from behind you, putting her hand on your shoulder while giving you a smile. You smile at her back, knowing you’re kinda lying to her. But you’re a horny teenager. You gotta do what you gotta do.

“Well…I’m sure they appreciate that. We gotta go.” Rick tells Michonne, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He makes his way through the house, the rest of you following after. You give them their hugs and say goodbye. Once the door slams shut, Judith starts crying. Screaming at the top of her fucking lungs.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hold your head in your hands, unprepared for the headache about to overtake your brain. “Hey, don’t be stressed. We can use this to our advantage.” Carl smiles and picks up Judith as she sobbed, also grabbing a couple toys before walking out the front door. You watch him walk all the way over to the armory to hand her off to Olivia.

When he disappeared into the faraway house, you turned around to find something to do. When you do turn around, you’re met with Daryl. “Jesus what the fuck!” You practically jump back, Daryl just looks at you like you’re crazy. “Don’t do that, holy shit- where did you come from!?” You put your hand over your heart and try your best to catch your breath. “The back door.” He just stares at you till you’re done. You finally catch your breath.

“Do I seriously need to watch over the two of ya or can I go work on my bike?” He asks, you sort of hesitate for some odd reason, you felt bad for lying. “We’ll be fine. Probably gonna make some soup or something and I might go to the range later. I dunno what he’ll do, probably clean his gun.” You shock yourself with how elaborate that lie was. He nods. “Okay. I’ll see ya.” He made his way out the front door.

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

A little later, Carl came back and met with you in your guys’ room where you were changing. He closed the door behind him and you turn around to smile at him, your shirt sliding off your arms. “Whatcha doing?” You ask with an endearing smile. He walks a bit closer. “Looking at you.” You giggle at his response. “You mean watching me change? That’s a bit perverted don’t you think?” You rummage through your closet for another shirt.

“I don’t think so.” He slowly comes up behind you, sliding his hands over your waist. He lodges his face into the crook of your neck where begins to plant harsh kisses. “Stop looking.” He tells you, lowering your arms from the clothes you had in your hand. You turn to face him and he smiles once you do. “You’re so pretty.” He puts his hand up to hold your cheek while he pulls you in for another kiss. This one was soft, the kind of kiss that really meant something. A feeling in your stomach told you things would only get better from here.

The kisses continue, only getting more intense and eventually his tongue slips into your mouth. You let out a small moan and you can feel him smile at that as he kissed you even more. You feel him pull you a little and you follow, your mouths still intertwined. He quickly spins you and plops you on the bed. He seemed confident on the outside, little did you know he was extremely nervous. You sit back with your arms propping you up and he leans in to kiss you again, his hands going straight to the buttons of your jeans. It’s quickly unbuttoned and he starts to tug them off you, standing to discard his own shirt as well.

Looking at him like this drives you insane. His messy hair, swollen lips, and the very obvious boner confined by his jeans. You were both scared and excited. Carl on the other hand was just really fucking horny. He got on the bed above you, one of his knees between your legs rutting against your clothed cunt. You let out yet another small moan and this prompts him to pull away and reach around to your back to unfasten your bra. Or try at least.

He was new to this, you can’t blame him. He fiddles with the clasp in a frustrated manner. “I just wanna see you.” He frowns, upset at himself for not being able to successfully take your bra off. You look at him with a sly smile. He shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on yours, his hand freezing in place as he accepted defeat. “Could you help me please?” He has a defeated tone and you laugh, undoing the clasp of your bra, letting it slide down your arms. While you did so, he worked on undressing you completely and then you waited for him to undress himself.

You’d palmed him once, you knew he wasn’t small but christ. Now you were definitely nervous. He smiled at you, basking in your beauty before leaning down to kiss a trail all the way from your stomach, up to your chest, to your neck. He was so unbelievably happy. He leaned back up to kiss you some more, his hand wandering down to your thigh, pulling it up. Your other thigh moves up instinctively and he pulls away to look down to actually do this.

He holds your legs at the back of your knees while guides himself to where he believes is the right spot. Glenn was a fucking liar. He has no idea what he’s doing. Maggie was right. Jesus this was so awkward. “Um…i-is this right or-” He stutters hoping you’d know how to guide him. You did, you helped him but not without accidentally sliding his tip against your clit, extracting a sharp moan from the both of you. Once he found your hole, he looked at you before slowly pushing into you.

Your mouth drops slightly at the feeling, his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. “This okay?” He asked quietly, stopping to hear your response. “Mhm s’fine just keep going slow.” He nodded and kept pushing, eventually bottoming out. He was breathing heavily, and you were too but he seemed to be on another planet. “A-are you okay?” You sort of giggle. His eyes are shut and he nods. “Just really tight that’s all.” He says breathlessly, gripping your thighs like he was never gonna let go. “Mkay. you can start moving if-if you’re ready.”

Well he’s been ready. He begins to slowly stroke in and out of you, he opens his eyes and leans down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth and you wrap your arms around him. He props himself up to hover over you, still pressing his length into your now, sopping heat. He leans his head back into your neck, moaning against your skin while you leave indents on his back from your nails. “You’re so good, so warm n wet. l-love you s-so much. Please.” He rambled, not even sure why he was saying please.

You could only moan in response, muttering a small “I love you too”back. He started to thrust a bit faster, his pace only increasing. It got to the point where you couldn’t even speak. You could tell he was close to cumming, you were too. Everything felt so good, his affection was only making it ten times better. He was so sweet with you, he really wanted you to feel good and not just him. You were glad he was the one taking your virginity.

“Carl-f-fuck I’m gonna cum.” You tell him, your nails digging into his skin deeper than before which causes him to groan. “Mhm me too.” His voice sounds somewhat strained. You clench around him before cumming all over his cock, him following soon after. He bottoms out inside of you one last time, hitting your g-spot perfectly, causing you to both moan loudly.

He smiles satisfactorily, pulling you into his embrace while he breathes heavily. “You’re so perfect.” He presses a kiss to your jaw and smiles against your skin. “You are. I feel so good.” You say basically astounded, reaching your hand up to rest in his hair. You spend a moment, just breathing and enjoying the afterglow.

Suddenly, Carl pulls away from your neck, and looks up as if he had heard something. You eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“What is it?”

“We forgot the condom.”

a/n: ok cuz i’m scared and nervous to post this but imma do it anyway THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT i hope it’s okayyy i feel like it was so sped up and im mad about it but let’s ignore that 0-0 hope you like ittttttttttt (im so scared right now you shut up)

ppl to tag: @zomb-1-egutzz

(sorry if u didn’t wanna be tagged for this LMAO)

[sleepyangelkami]

could you do Carl reacting to you saying ur safe word?💕💕

SAFETY BLANKET c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.5K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - during a time filled with vulnerability, everything becomes too much. luckily your safety blanket isn't going anywhere.

 ☆ WARNINGS - sexual themes, slight smut in beginning, use of safeword, crying, swearing, aged-up characters, use of good girl (not sexual), anxiety, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

there had to be something so seriously wrong with you.

that was the only viable answer you could give yourself for the uncomfortableness settled in your lower stomach that should have been filled with pleasure. a moment spent with your boyfriend that should have meant so much. and yet you'd never been so distant.

you didn't know what was wrong, truthfully.

one thing you'd known well was where carl stood. at least, you hoped his opinion hadn't changed since before. he always said that if there was something wrong, he'd stop. he didn't need a reason or answer, utter one simple word and it was over for the both of you. he'd maneuver you back to the bed and assure you that he wasn't angry, he'd never be angry. not with you, at least.

so why did you find yourself not wishing to utter such a simple word?

on the very tip of your tongue, reaching out, practically begging to be yelled. what was wrong? you didn't know. you didn't know. and frustration was building up in your throat, almost tears building in your eyes.

skin on fire, eyes burning. how could you feel so horrible and yet not muster the single word you needed to stop it all at once.

perhaps it was the worry that he wouldn't think of you as the 'good girl' he always did, always wishing to please him. and carl? well, he'd taken to your stiff posture at first but once you laid back, seemingly relaxed for him he took no notice of it.

how could he? none of this was his fault.

whether or not you didn't feel good, it had nothing to do with your boyfriend who lay atop of you, pressing his weight onto you. it was suffocating, but that didn't mean it was his fault. yet as the word reached your tongue, you worried if that was what he'd think.

everything was too much, you simply couldn't handle it anymore.

so instead of a long string of moans falling from your mouth, the so simple, so detrimental, word "strawberry." fell instead.

it was almost devastating how quickly he froze, how quickly your eyes began to burn insufferably.

you thought of a thousand words that could have left his lips. "shit." was the first he'd thought of. "i'm gonna... fuck― i'm gonna pull out of you now, okay?"

despite your teary eyes, you'd managed to nod your head almost frantically. the minute the word fell from your lips it was as if you wished for nothing more than the entirety of the moment to be over. you wanted to cry, swallow yourself whole beneath your own pretty pink bed sheets. instead, you lay beneath him with burning eyes in his own sweaty blue bed sheets.

the minute he backed away from you, giving you room, the tears started all over again. you hoisted yourself up so quickly, fishing around for your clothes while you sniffled, trying to suck up the cries that didn't wish to leave you.

he watched as you grasped his t-shirt, not your own, trying to flip it the back way around. he watched wondering if he could step in.

he was the very one who put the safeword in it's use, he gave it to you so that if there was ever a time you'd need it, you could use it. yet it'd never happened before, he was a little worried on making the wrong mistake for the second time that night, pushing you over your limits again.

he probably should have asked could he touch you, were you comfortable with his body so close to yours. but as you struggled to flip the t-shirt to the way it should be, he couldn't help but reach his soft fingertips out.

they touched yours quickly, causing startled, tear-filled eyes to snap up. "hey, hey, 's okay, baby." taking the t-shirt from your hands, gently setting it down on the bed. "'s okay, take your time."

a sudden realisation that you didn't have to cover yourself up so quickly, shun yourself away from him.

so instead of turning your face, refusing to look at the boy, you practically threw yourself into his arms.

without uttering a word, the boy took you. it was easy to hold you at a time like this, shaking while muffling your cries into the shirt on his shoulder. it was easy to provide comfort because it was all he wanted to do. it wasn't easy to watch you like this, hear your muffled cries.

guilt wracked at his bones. "you wanna tell me what happened?" knowing it was something he'd done. he'd made the effort to talk in a low voice, making sure he wouldn't startle you any more than he had already. "huh?" his nose nudged at your cheek, making your face finally leave sanctuary.

gazing straight forward, you could see his face, brows knit together and strewn up, a look of guilt plain and simple against his features. could you possibly feel more awful? "'m sorry." voice cracking as though you were but a mere child.

a different look fell across his face, almost one of agony.

the mere thought of you thinking it'd been your fault.

"hey, hey." fingers moving to grasp at your face, holding you so that you were looking at him. "don't apologise to me, pretty girl, this isn't your fault. 'm so proud of you."

brows knitting together, evident confusion washing over you as you tilted your head up to the boy. "you are?" surprise clean in your voice.

"'course i am, sweet girl." he settled you so that you could rest against his lap as comfortably as you could, despite the fact you were both still nude. "did what i told you to do, it felt wrong so you told me. would have been wrong if you didn't, yeah? 'was such a good girl."

with a sniffle, your eyes cast down to your hands, playing with your fingers as you tried to settle the anxiety in your chest. carl did that better than playing with your fingers ever did. "you're not mad?" voice low.

"no." his nose nudged against your cheek again, he sounded so sure of himself. "no, never mad."

voice cracking once more, ever so softly. "promise?"

his lips curled gently. "i promise." his fingers rubbed against your sides, soothing the slightly bruised skin from his fingers digging into them only moments before. "you need anything, sweetheart? some water? a bath?"

a mere shake of your head was enough. your cheek gently placed itself against his chest, listening to the patter of his heartbeat. it was the kind of thing you never wanted to stop listening to, as soothing as it could get. "jus' wanna be with you."

"'s what we'll do then, 'kay?" the boy wrapped you in a clean shirt, not the one you'd been fumbling with before. this one was white and smelled of linen, he then placed a clean pair of his boxers on you, dressing himself in almost the very same thing before tucking you into bed.

carl didn't need sex. sex was a plus when it came to you. but truthfully, he'd go his entire lifetime without it if it meant he could hold you like this every single night. your head against the crook of his neck, breathing through your mouth and not your clogged nose. your eyes red but softly fluttering as his fingers gathered strands of hair, gently playing with them.

the soft sound of your gentle laughter as the tv in front of you both played, some old dvd he'd found on a run that he just knew you'd like.

he couldn't help but stare, a breathtaking view so close to him. he must have been something as good as an angel in his past life to deserve this, he was sure of it. "'m so proud of you." he kept repeating the phrase, hoping one day you'd understand just how proud he was.

and as the light dimmed, tv gently playing at a low volume, you'd almost fallen asleep. almost without saying the most important words. "carl?" glancing his head down to you. "i love you."

smiling ever so softly. "i love you." pressing the gentlest kisses to your head. "now get some sleep."

you slept good that night, knowing you'd been so stupid to think carl would ever get angry with you, especially over something as simple as that. on the contrary, he'd been happy.

you didn't need a safe word, a simple "no." would have done it for you both. carl didn't care, as long as you had your safety blanket at the end of the night, wrapping around him as though he were the trunk of a tree.

he couldn't complain, he was holding practical gold in his hands.

if he really was, you could call him a hoarder. he wouldn't trade you out for anything else in the world.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[carlsdarling]

Sexy Talk

Carl and Y/N have some serious birth control issues... Everyone is 18 or over

WARNINGS: lowkey smut

Y/N (whispers): Carl, did you bring any condoms from the supply run?

Carl (rummaging in his pants pocket): Yes, I did

Y/N: Carl! Those are the cherry-flavored ones again!

Carl (frowns): Uuum... I didn't even notice that....

Y/N: (rolls her eyes meaningfully)

Carl (irritated): It's no big deal, they serve their purpose, don't they?

Y/N (annoyed): Have you forgotten what happened last time? The rash you got?

Carl: Uuuum... it's not like that's supposed to happen again, and...

Y/N: Wasn't it embarrassing enough that you had to go to Denise ONCE and ask her for an ointment because you had an itchy rash on your privates?

Carl (blushes): I...

Negan (eavesdropping, while waiting for Rick to hand him supplies): Carl, are you dumb? (laughs) Is he ransacking cherry-flavored condoms, seriously, Carl... one can tell you're Rick's son; I would have parented you better...

Carl (pissed): Oh, fuck you all! (walks away)

--

Tags: @tessasweet @taylormarieee @knochentrocken0808 @xxcarlswifexx

(it was just a silly random idea in the late evening, but I considered it funny 😂)

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,844 Pairing: Negan x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, after the war, Negan is imprisoned Warnings: language, mild gore (killing walkers) Summary: In lieu of Negan's failing mental health, Michonne looks for options and Y/N steps up to do her share. A/N: This is part 1 of a miniseries (maybe 3?? parts) for Negan that I've been working on! I started it as a one shot, but... you know me lol so here we are! Part 2 will be released next week on Wicked Wednesday! Happy reading! “I’m afraid we’ve got a problem,” Michonne said seriously. You exchanged a glance with Daryl.

“What kind of problem? Like, Annoying Steve is being annoying or a new horror is coming to destroy everything we have and love?” you asked wryly.

Daryl let out an appreciative dry laugh but Michonne remained serious. “Somewhere in the middle, I think,” she said. “It’s about Negan.”

Daryl swore and paced a tight circle. “Course it is. Somehow, it’s still always ‘bout him, ain’t it?” he growled.

Michonne forged ahead. “Gabriel is—fed up with him. There’s no other way to say it. He’s not trying to do anymore counseling and he needs a break. I don’t blame him. He’s taken on everything with Negan since—since Rick—”

You frowned, your brow furrowing as grief roared upwards in all of you. “What exactly is the problem?”

“His mental state is really deteriorating,” Michonne explained. “Being in there by himself all the time, just the odd hour or two outside, no one talking to him—”

“Why should we give a shit?” Daryl asked in a low, dangerous voice. “Ain’t the whole damn point of him bein’ in there so he has to suffer for what he did for the rest of his life? His mental state… Fuck. They fed me one fuckin’ dog food sandwich a day after they shoved me into a fucking closet naked. They —”

You reached over and put your hand on Daryl’s arm before he got further charged up. He stopped abruptly and drew in a long breath.

“I know. I know what he did, but no,” Michonne said. “The point isn’t for him to just suffer. If we do that, we become no better than him.”

Daryl glanced at you and let out an exasperated exhale. “Hell, ya already know what I think about it,” Daryl said firmly. “He shouldn’t even be breathin’ still. ‘M the wrong damn person to ask ‘bout this.”

Michonne sighed and leaned forward on her hands. “I’m just trying to honor Carl and—”

“We know,” you interrupted her quickly. You paused thoughtfully. “I—I can take this on. I’ve dealt with him the least so far out of the three of us. Probably makes it my turn.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “What’re ya gonna do? Rub his back while he cries? Hold his fuckin’ hand? I mean, how do we help somebody like him.”

Michonne shrugged. “A little more conversation to start, I think. He said being alone and the boredom is eating him alive. Maybe we come up with some more things for him to do outside the cell.”

You nodded. “I’ll brainstorm,” you said.

Daryl looked concerned, his eyes flickering over you. “Yer gonna have to be careful. He’s a manipulative asshole. And I dun trust a damn thing ‘bout him. If he can get out, he will. Don’t matter what he’d have to do.”

“I’ll be careful. I’m not an amateur, Daryl,” you said, shooting him a smile.

He nodded, ducking his head. “I know. I just gotta say it.”

“Are you sure?” Michonne asked. “It doesn’t have to be one of us. I can talk to some other people.”

“I’ve got it. I’ll start today. I’ll take him his meals and check on him, make sure he gets some time outside the cell. I’ll take care of it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Flat on his back, Negan heard the door open and shut but he barely moved. His eyes stayed closed and he heaved a heavy sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in some anticipation of annoyance. “Gabey-baby, I am not in the fucking mood for your guidance counselor horseshit today, so why don’t you just turn that tight little toosh around, waltz back out, and leave me the fuck alone…” he said.

“Wow. That was—gross…” you said.

Now, his eyes opened. This was something different. You were different. He swung his legs down and sat on the edge of his cot, his hazel eyes finding you and looking you over. “God Bless America, a change in the fucking monotony,” he said. “Is Gabe still mad at me?”

You approached his cell, tray in hand and nodded. “Yep. In fact, so pissed that he’s officially on vacation from you.”

“Gotta envy that,” Negan quipped. “How do I sign up for one of those?”

“A vacation from yourself?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think that’s in the cards.”

“Damn. It was worth asking.” He seemed to be looking you over again and you rolled your eyes.

“My eyes are up here, Negan,” you joked.

His lips curled into a half-smile. “Sorry. But Gabe isn’t exactly my type and I don’t get much chance to look at anything so—”

“Just stop right there, okay?” you interrupted him. You slid his tray through the slot at the bottom of the door and straightened back up.

But Negan wasn’t interested in his breakfast. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” he asked.

“You know perfectly well what my name is, Negan,” you countered.

He cocked his head slightly. “You’re right about that,” he admitted. “So, what’s on the agenda?” he asked, finally moving to grab his tray. He returned to his cot and set it on the small side table.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Gabe was always counseling me. Trying to rehabilitate me. Were you a therapist or something in the old world?” He grabbed the small apple and shined it on his shirt before taking a bite.

“No. But we’re perfectly aware that your mental health has taken a nosedive recently,” you said.

Negan let out a low laugh. “And you give a shit?” he asked skeptically. “I nearly fucking destroyed all of you and you’re worried about my mental health?”

You sighed and nodded once, stiffly. “We’re not the same as you, Negan. We’re trying to do better. And Michonne wants to honor Carl’s vision.” You watched as Negan’s face fell. The look in his eyes grew distant and his shoulders slumped slightly.

“Yeah… He was a helluva kid,” Negan said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you replied, taking a seat in the stiff wooden chair set outside his cell. “I watched him grow up from a scared little kid and survive everything this world threw his way. You have no idea what kind of loss that was.”

Negan was looking at you thoughtfully and you were surprised when he didn’t reply, only nodded, and then returned to his apple.

“The agenda is for me to—” you hesitated for a moment. What the hell was the agenda? “For me to help you how I can. I know you’re alone a lot and you probably need some company, a change of scenery every now and then, mental stimulation…”

Negan laughed and smirked. “That’s not the only kind of stimulation I need,” he said.

You glared at him. “Jesus, Negan…” you murmured, rolling your eyes.

“It’s the truth,” he laughed.

“Yeah, well, I’m not helping you with that. I guess you’ll just have to try your hardest to think back to one of your past six wives,” you sassed.

The grin stayed on his face. “Five,” he corrected you. Then, the smile faded. “But, uh, only the first really counted.” Negan’s head dropped and you watched him curiously.

He was struggling. You’d never sensed so much truth or vulnerability in a single thing that had left his lips.

“I see,” you said.

For some reason, this made him laugh again. “You know, Gabe used to say that all the time. It’s some of that non-value, non-judgement counselor language.”

You stood up suddenly and sighed. “Finish your breakfast. I’m gonna go do a few things and then I’ll be back. We’re gonna get you out of that cell for a while today.” You fixed a stern and perceptive look on him. “If you think you can behave.”

Negan looked curious. “For you? I might.”

You cocked your head at him and looked unamused. “You will, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Negan laughed again and turned back to his food. “Got it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Why don’t I come with ya?” Daryl asked, watching as you slipped the pistol into your holster.

You looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “You think I can’t handle this?” you asked.

“Not that ya can’t handle it. It’s just—it’s Negan. We all know what he’s fuckin’ capable of,” Daryl said, walking behind you out the front door and across the steps.

“You’re conflating past Negan with Negan now. I just talked to him, and I’m telling you—it’s like he’s been robbed of all his menace and power. He’s been sitting in that cell a long time, Daryl. I don’t think he’s the same and I don’t think he’s going to—to suddenly hit me over the head with a rock or something,” you said.

“But outside the walls? Already? Why dun ya just—just start with somethin’ in here first and see how it goes? That way there are other people around and I can stop by when I can and check in.”

You read the intense concern on Daryl’s face and then nodded. “Alright. We’ll stay in the walls today. But I think part of the problem with him is that he hasn’t seen a single different thing outside in too long. He’s going a little stir crazy in there and I can’t entirely blame him.”

“Yeah, well, he fuckin’ deserves it,” Daryl growled.

“He does. But Michonne is right… we should be trying to be better. Otherwise, we should have just killed him.” You paused, trying to come up with something for him to do that would give him a little exercise and change of pace. “I’ll have him help me clear out that area for the new garden plots. There are some plants to harvest over there anyway before we clear it. It’ll teach him something too.`”

Daryl nodded. “ ‘Kay. I’ll stop by and check in,” he drawled. “Just be careful. Dun let yer guard down.”

“You know I never do.” You turned and headed back toward Negan’s cell.

Negan rose from his seat on his cot, the tray from breakfast sitting empty beside him on the small side table. He watched as you withdrew a ring of keys from your back pocket and fiddled with them a moment as you stood in front of the cell door, eyeing the lock. Was this a good idea?

Negan took a few cautious steps toward you, watching your face intensely. “Am I… getting out on good behavior, warden?” he quipped, flashing you a half-smile. It seemed to draw you back out from your reverie.

“Temporarily,” you replied, finally fitting the key into the lock and turning it. The metallic clunk was striking. “If you can handle it…” you added.

The pistol on your hip wasn’t lost on Negan. He nodded. “I think so,” he said. “What’re we doing? Hard labor?”

“Not so hard,” you said. “But I would appreciate your help with something.”

Negan froze just after stepping out of the cell and fixed a queer look on you. “Appreciate?” he repeated.

You nodded. “Mhm…”

His eyebrows lifted. “You better be careful with the way you’re talkin’ to me, Y/N. I might just fall in love with you,” he chuckled. “I haven’t felt appreciated in… oh, I don’t know—how long have I been in here?” he asked, brushing a hand back through his hair.

“Didn’t Gabriel speak nicely to you?” you asked, shutting the cell door behind him, giving him a questioning glance.

“Well, sure. Or maybe not nicely. He was at least neutral,” Negan said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I think I ruined that though.”

You shook your head and sighed. “Yeah, he’s not pleased with you, Negan,” you agreed. “Look, this is just a test run. We’re staying in Alexandria today, but eventually… I’d like to get you outside of the walls on occasion.” Negan looked shocked. “Obviously, that’s going to take trust,” you emphasized. “But I think it would do you good.” You hesitated, wondering if you should admit this to him, but you decided it would be good for him to hear it. “You’re not the same as you were when you were locked in here. And—I intend on finding out if you can really be rehabilitated. Not that I’m ever going to forget what you’ve done… but there’s got to be more than this,” you said, gesturing to the cell behind him, “in your future. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“You’ve just explained exactly what has me so depressed,” Negan admitted. “I’ve spent most of the last however many fucking years wishing Rick had just killed me.”

Those words hung in the air like a toxic cloud. You gulped and couldn’t help feeling an ache of compassion at his words. Compassion for Negan. What a peculiar thought… You tilted your head toward the door. “Come on. Follow me and stay close. And let me be perfectly clear; I will shoot you if you try to pull any bullshit,” you emphasized.

He nodded, his expression surprisingly serious. “Got it.”

You led him out into the summer sunshine and walked through Alexandria until you reached the overgrown section near the wall that you planned to tackle for the day. The two of you had gotten plenty of stares as you moved down the street, but you noticed that Negan had mostly kept his head down. His shoulders were somewhat slumped and he made no witty comments on the walk, though you caught him closing his eyes to enjoy the breeze or staring up at the blue expanse of sky overhead multiple times.

He stopped beside you, his hands in his pockets, as you stared at the tall grass and brambles ahead and sighed.

“What’re we doin’, boss?” he asked.

“We’re going to start clearing this area out so eventually we can put in some new garden plots. But there’s a little more to it. We used to have some medicinal plants in here before it got overgrown. I’m hoping to find them and save them for transplanting, so we can’t just start ripping everything out.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what’s medicinal and what’s not?” he asked.

“I’m gonna teach you,” you said confidently.

Negan laughed a little at the assertion. “Look, doll… I was a gym teacher in the old world. ‘Not Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman,’” he said.

Your eyebrows lifted. “Wow. That was a deep bench reference,” you said.

He smirked at you. “I was pretty proud of it myself,” he said.

You couldn’t help a dry laugh and small shake of your head. “It’s not that hard. We’ll work together to start and I’ll show you how to identify them. The grasses can all be pulled, but we’ll identify the broadleaf plants and get them ready for transplanting if they’re something we can use.”

Negan looked skeptical but shrugged. “Well, you’re the boss. Not like I’ve got a full schedule,” he said.

“Exactly,” you agreed. There was a reason you weren’t just having him pull all the grass and doing the rest yourself. Negan was smart and not having any mental stimulation was probably contributing a lot to his mental health issues. If you gave him a task that was a little physical and a little mental, you were hoping it’d give him a sense of purpose and productivity.

You got started right away, mainly just pulling the grasses and clearing a large area that remained dotted with forbs. It was summer and the respiration of the plants you were sitting in made the air humid. It wasn’t long before you were wiping at sweat along your hairline and stopping to push wet strands back out of your face. For a while, you worked in silence beside Negan, only speaking to instruct him, but he finally tried to start some conversation on his own.

“So, what the hell did you do in the old world anyway? Were you some kind of plant guru?” he asked, pausing to pull off his gloves for a moment and get a drink from the canteen you’d provided for him.

You paused, standing up to look down at him where he knelt in the grass. He was sweaty too, like you were, and his dark blue shirt was clinging to his back in the heat. “I don’t think I owe you my backstory, Negan,” you said. Your tone wasn’t unkind, but it was a little stern.

“Aw, come on. This is part of that trust-building thing you mentioned earlier,” he said, taking another drink. “I’m just trying to figure you out a little bit,” he said.

You crossed your arms and surveyed him. “So, you can better manipulate me when it’s beneficial to you?” you asked.

“What? No,” he said with surprise, and you almost believed him. “I mean—I currently have no concrete plans to manipulate you…” he admitted, a small bit of jest in his voice. “I’m bored all the time in that fuckin’ cell. I could sure use the conversation. Isn’t that what this is about? My ‘mental health’,” he quoted, shooting an expectant look at you.

You sighed. “What do you wanna know?”

Negan licked his lips and then smiled, thinking about what he wanted to ask, but before he could say a word, bootsteps behind the two of you caused you both to look over to see Daryl standing there.

You went to greet him, pulling off your gloves.

“How’s it goin’?” he asked in an undertone, glancing past you to shoot a glare at Negan.

You shrugged. “Fine. It’s been completely fine so far.”

Daryl nodded, but still looked suspicious. “He ain’t tried anythin’?”

You shook your head, dusting the soil from your gloves. “Nope. We’re just working.”

Daryl nodded, still clearly apprehensive. “Well, s’almost noon. Get him back to his cell by 1 and I’ll bring his meal down,” he drawled.

“I can take care of that,” you offered.

“S’fine. I wanna have a word with him anyway.” He put his hand on your shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze, giving you a small smile. “Yer doin’ enough for him. Be careful.”

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding. “See you later.”

When you turned around, you noticed Negan had been watching the interaction carefully. There was a thoughtful look on his face, but when you simply returned and got back to work, he joined you again in silence. You continued on for another hour or so, managing to clear quite a wide area by the time you needed to get Negan back to his cell for a late lunch. You walked beside him, both of you now dirty and plenty sweaty, and your hand strayed to the handle of your pistol again absently.

Negan noticed and broke the silence that had stretched for what felt like a long time. “You’re a fuckin’ great shot with that thing,” he said, nodding toward the gun.

“What?” you asked, turning to look at him, puzzled.

“I said, ‘you’re a great shot’,” he repeated. You still looked confused. “I noticed… during the war,” he said. “I mean—I noticed you but also your aim.” You stared at him, your brow furrowed. “You almost blew Simon’s fuckin’ head off,” he said with a laugh. “If he hadn’t flinched at the last second…” Negan let out a low whistle.

“How’d you know that was me?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I noticed you.”

You looked… unsettled? Uneasy? Negan couldn’t quite define it, but there was some sort of tension in the air as you walked him back the rest of the way and finally locked him inside his cell again.

He gripped onto the bars and watched you turn away before he managed to get your name out. You turned toward him again, the high arch of your brow inquiring. “Thanks,” he said. “For today. It was the best fuckin’ day I’ve had in a while,” he admitted.

You gave him a baffled look. “I made you work outside in the sun all morning,” you laughed.

“Yeah… but I wasn’t alone. And I’ve had waaaaay worse company. Just—even if you decide you can’t do more than today, I want you to know that it mattered to me. Thanks.”

That look was on your face again, some mix of surprise and bewilderment. Finally, you sighed. “Daryl’s gonna bring you lunch. I’ll see you later, okay, Negan?”

He nodded, still gripping onto the cold, iron bars of his cell, and watched you walk out.

A short time later, Negan had washed his hands and splashed cool water from his basin over his face, dabbing at it with his small scratchy towel, when he heard the door open again. He looked up to see Daryl coming in with a tray of food and a scowl. He set it down by the slot at the bottom of the cell door and pushed it roughly through with the toe of his boot, almost spilling the water cup. Daryl’s expression didn’t change. It was stony and guarded.

Negan eyed him and then wandered over to grab the tray. He did feel hungry for once, something that had been rare for quite some time. When he straightened up, Daryl’s blue eyes were narrow and stinging.

Negan grabbed the apple off his tray and took a big bite. It was sweet and crunchy, satisfying and refreshing after being in the sun all morning. “Something on your mind, Daryl?” Negan asked, a faint smile on his lips.

Daryl stepped closer, right up to the bars. “Yeah. One thing. If ya fuck up, if ya try to hurt Y/N, if ya pull anythin’ I dun like, I don’t give a shit what Michonne or anybody else is tryin’ to do—I don’t give a shit about your rehab, I’ll put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Got it?”

That smile was still on Negan’s face, annoying the shit out of Daryl.

“I mean it, Negan. Ya hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he said, taking another bite.

“Good,” he growled, and the archer left.

[luunamoona]

the way community handled queerness is honestly so peak. like, there're 3 main moments i can think of in the show where queerness was apparent and mentioned: advanced gay, queer studies and advanced waxing and britta's pitch in emotional concequences of broadcast television.

in advanced gay, the cornelius hawthorne is seen as a villian for having traits like being abusive towards his son, pierce, him being really racist and him being homophobic. this acknowledgement of homophobia being a bad thing is definitely good for the early 2010s, as many shows treated being queer as a joke back then. also cornelius being fucking murdered at the end of the episode solidifies the fact his actions were deemed immoral and he therefore had his comeuppance.

community only ever uses queerness as a punchline in the context of troy and abed's relationship, the punchline usually being "look at how romantic these 2 friends are how silly", which could be seen as homophobia as the same context with a man and a woman would be treated differently by the showrunners as it'd be turned into a romantic subplot.

the next example i have is from queer studies and advanced waxing. having the dean tell richie and carl that he "isn't openly anything and gay doesn't begin to cover it" is much more progressive than many other media at that time, and even now, as they'd usually have the queer character just be gay for convenience. this need for convenience is commented on in the episode with richie and carl basically coercing the dean into adopting a label that is inaccurate but convenient for his straight peers. back to my previous point, presenting queerness as being more complex and having more nuance than just gay and straight is something that is very useful to queer viewers as it presents an option beyond these 2 ends of the spectrum. unlike what other shows may do with this concept, community treats it seriously, showing the dean's inner conflict with presenting with an identity that isn't his, with lines like "i feel sick". (also side point, the line "i make gayness look like mormonism" goes so hard)

finally, there's britta's pitch in emotional concequences of broadcast television. in this, the dean protests britta's decision to make him transgender and not "all this other stuff". something i love about that scene is the ability to critique queer represention without insulting it. as a trans person, i've seen a good amount of transphobia is television. this isn't one of these times. being able to have trans identity be a part of the punchline without it being insulted is something that is apparently very hard for screenwriters of sitcoms to do, so i commend them for being able to do that. as well as this, this scene acts as a criticism of how basic queer representation in media is, how they like having one distinct, easy to understand label to give their token character, ignoring "all this other stuff". it's telling us that, like in queer studies and advanced waxing, queer idenity isn't black and white, it's a wide spectrum of identities that comes in many, many different colors.

all in all, community's representation of queerness and how it treats insults to queerness is something a lot of other shows should try to strive for. in my opinion, it has some of the most nuanced takes of queer identity and representation out of any sitcom that doesn't have queer people as a target audience. it feels very fitting, since the show is literally called community and it about a group of misfits who bond over their shared messed up-ness. this show is all about finding your people and accepting everyone, as pierce says in for a few paintballs more, "flaws and all". i think the showrunners had an impression this show would speak to a lot of queer people and i love that they were able to make us feel welcome just as greendale does to the study group.

[mongo-the-liensis]

Carl when the Party asked him why he kept the decapitated head of that mage

[etherealily]

𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙽 // 𝙉𝙁𝙅!

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Drugs.

I don't know if this is milder or darker than the previous parts, but I do know that it is LONG.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 4 : Shards

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You're fun and you're wild, but you don't know the half of the shit that you put me through

═════════════════════ 🧿 ════════════════════

TUESDAY, LIBRARY, 4 PM.

"We need to talk."

Suddenly, Carl Jung had never been more interesting, your eyes unable to rip away from the words on the paper in front of them, ignoring Nate as much as possible.

Your shoulder suddenly jerked, and a soft whisper followed. "Hey. We need to talk."

Frowning, your eyes darted between the two Jacobs brothers, the looks on their faces not strict, but the most infuriatingly stoic gazes mankind had ever known.

"You had quite a weekend, right? Anything crazy happen?"

The real question Aaron was asking was whether you were going to talk about it.

"Nope, just lots of psych homework."

"See, this is why I'm telling you to drop Psych. Unnecessary stress.", remarked Nate, his fingers rapping on the table in an almost musical pattern. Almost, because music is art, and there was nothing artistic about the false smile he was giving you.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"How are the rest of classes going?" Small talk?

"Great. Chem is pissing me off, though."

"Eh, well, only nerds are good at Chem, and I don't fuck with nerds. So you're lucky."

Oh, thanks, man. Such an honour.

"Are you good at Chem?"

"I pass."

"Where'd you get time to study? What with all the vapes and parties and quote-unquote 'dozens of bitches'?"

He let out a breathy laugh. "I got good work-life balance.", he replied, leaning on his arms closer to you. His head tilted and you knew something psychotic was about to happen. Well, it was Nate. You knew something psychotic was about to happen the second he walked in.

"I'll bet."

He smiled at that. "Are you my friend, Y/N? Are we friends?"

"I don't think so."

"Good. We're on the same page.", he hissed, moving in closer, glaring at you with the same eyes that had been acting as a dam to his true emotions two nights ago. "You can't tell anyone." His fingers deftly twirled your hair around before tucking it behind your ear.

"About?"

"Saturday."

"How you threw a lamp at me?"

"What you heard about my Dad. What he wanted to... what he said. What you learnt about our family."

"I won't."

"No, seriously, Y/N, don't fucking play with me right now. You'll regret it if you do."

"I'm not playing around, either. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Good.", sniped Aaron. "'Cause we'll fucking ruin your life if you do."

"Aaron.", whispered Nate, shaking his head. "She already said she wouldn't."

"And you trust her?! She walked in with this polite girl attitude and then when shit got tough, she yelled at you with Mom just a room away. And you told me she wanted to fuck Da-"

"Aaron, shut the FUCK up, okay? She said she isn't going to, so she won't." The glares were back on you, an unwelcome blanket in the heat of tension.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to have to say stuff about you , too."

"Aaron, I said fuckin' drop it."

"No, she gotta know what's at stake, or she's going to take this shit lightly."

You could almost see the vein pop in Nate's head.

"Nate, what... what stuff?"

"It's nothing. Just... we needed incentive.", he muttered, shrugging.

"What incentive?"

"You're buddy-buddy with a drug dealer, Y/N.", he continued, although, to his credit, it seemed with a little reluctance. "And he has access to a lot of shit, right? Who knows if he's ever slipped something into your drink and... y'know."

"What the FUCK? What the FUCK, NATE?"

His idea of incentive was making you a rape victim?!

Being shushed by the librarian solidified your thirst for homicide.

"I mean, you fucked Shane voluntarily, so you're already a fuckin' whore.", he declared, shrugging again as if he was just stating that the sky would be lit up by fireworks on the Fourth of July. "Maybe he just thought it would be easier, without all the playing-hard-to-get-shit. You're close enough that he trusts you to watch over his store."

"You can't FUCKING be serious! FEZCO WOULD NEVER FUCKING-"

"How sad, you're in denial.", tutted Aaron, pouting. "How would you know? He could have used shit stronger than Rohypnol, ya know? Shit that could knock you out cold for hours, and maybe he even called a couple of his trapper buddies-"

Aaron shut up quite quickly when your knuckles met his jaw, but started cussing you out when Nate pulled you off of him. "We're just saying, Y/N, you don't tell anyone the truth of that night, we won't tell them the lies about Fezco."

You pointed your finger at Nate's chest, hoping to god that that would distract him from the rage-induced tears pooling in your eyes.

"You're a fucking coward, Jacobs. With a pervert dad. A fucking coward who can't admit that he has no idea what the fuck he's doing."

"Big words coming from a girl that was raped by her dealer."

OH, someone needs to euthanize this motherfucker.

FUCK. NATE. JACOBS.

TUESDAY, 9PM

Nate had no fucking clue why he was doing this.

He was just drunk, he supposed. Drunk and horny. Average teenage experience.

But it's like.. he could've done anything. ANYTHING else. He could've actually gone to the party, picked up some girl, screwed her into the bed.

But no.

He sat there, scrolling through the fucking SlutPages. For who?Shane's sister, maybe, because of the inexplicable hatred he'd been feeling for him for about a month that he couldn't really think of a reason for? You would think, wouldn't you?

He looked for you.

There was no way you were a virgin. But he should've known there was also no way you were a slut. Or at least, that you were smart enough not to end up there.

He almost fucking threw the phone onto the wall. Fuck.

And you'd blocked him. That was the problem. He couldn't even text you. And he didn't have your fucking phone number, Jesus fucking Christ, he should've gotten it! Relying on something as flimsy as social fucking media was stupid. Idiot.

Wait. Social media.

He quickly slid his chair over to his computer, his hands moving with a pace and mind of their own.

No fucking way would he admit this, but his brother... had some good ideas, once in a while.

When he was fourteen, he'd been wide-eyed, watching through the crack through a door as his older brother -17 at the time- created an account, some random username, some girly bullshit, and then gone Incognito, finding a picture to add.

And then he watched as his brother spent hours poring through pictures of girls - at the time, Nate's seniors- and then suddenly sigh.

"You know, you breathe like fucking Darth Vader?" "What's that?", he'd asked, ignoring that comment and padding over to sit next to him. "This account? I'll tell you, but it- it's like... private brother shit, ok?"

"Shit". What a novel word that was at the time.

"Okay." "Spit-swear it, runt."

He spit-swore. A thing he never fucking did again.

"You can use it. Whenever you're down bad for a chick but you're blocked." "Why would a chick I'm down bad for block me?" "You're so obviously fourteen."

And god fucking damnit, was he.

Not that he was down bad for you. But all he'd say is if this wasn't love, it was pretty fucking close. Why you enthralled him, no clue. You were so easy to rile up, but hard to push too far. You always seemed to be limitless.

He logged in.

Good, the loser, Crestin, posted a story.

Good, you were there in the background.

Great, you were hot.

Bad, you were drinking. Tequila. Wasn't that you and Nate's thing?

Of course, he wouldn't presume to have taken your tequila-V-Card, but he most definitely would have assumed that you'd associate tequila with him. With that night. He'd assumed you'd stay away from it, metaphorically forsaking him in the process.

But no.

Shane's tequila was non-traumatic, and apparently delicious. Ugh.

This simply would not do.

TUESDAY, SHANE'S PARTY, 11PM

"No, NO, GET the FUCK away from me!", you warned, pointing a finger at him. You should've taken his advice and learnt to shoot. "I'm warning you, Jacobs!"

Shane's party was meant to be the one place you could be to avoid Nate, seeing as the host was some sort of Nate-repellent, but NO, you'd just apparently underestimated Nate Jacobs once again.

And here he was, his hand gripping your wrist - just like the rope you wanted to grip his neck - and glaring down at you as if you'd just killed his entire family but he was mildly turned on by it.

"Y/N, just fucking listen! Just- stop causing a scene! Fuckin' LISTEN!", he ordered, grabbing your shoulder with one palm and pointing at you with the other hand, to stop you from writhing away from him.

"You can't just do what you did last week and then expec-"

He kissed you. What did he think this was, fucking Disney Channel?

"NO! NO!", you shouted, shoving him away and secretly hoping for a car to hit him as he stumbled back.

No such luck.

It really was the world according to Nate, wasn't it?

"You know it's okay, right? It's alright."

"What?"

"It's okay to want me.", he informed you, as if he was telling you it was okay to sing in the shower.

Everyone does it. It's like, a thing, relax.

"It's okay.", he continued, "People want what's bad for them all the time.", he murmured, his thumb tracing your lip like he was tracing out a line he wanted so desperately to cross. "It's human nature."

"You think I'm bad for you?"

He took a deep breath, as if he was about to tell you you were terminal. "I think you're good for my soul. Like a baptism without the water." His thumb moved further into your mouth, just barely grazing your teeth.

"Even you have no clue what that meant, admit it."

"It's called effect, Y/N. Drama. Intrigue. Doesn't have to make sense."

You stared up at him, waiting for elaboration, and that earned a huff from him as he looked around at the other people in the front yard - doing lines, making out, throwing up - before turning back to you. "No, honey, I don't think you're bad for me. In fact, I think you're unnecessarily good for me."

"Unnecessarily?"

"As in, I don't need your energy."

"Then why are you so insistent on being around it? 'Cause you want to fuck me?"

"No! Jesus. It's in the name, Y/N. GOOD luck charm. You help me do GOOD in my games. You're good energy."

"What's next? You gonna tell me my birthstone?"

"Oh, shut up.", he chuckled, shaking his head as he moved your jaw from side-to-side in what seemed to be a playful gesture, but at this point, could very well have been him trying to ascertain which cheek to shoot into or something. "You got your licks in. We good?"

"Good? No. NO. We're not good! You threatened someone I love, so no fuckin' way are we good!"

"I know, I know. Aaron wanted me to-"

"BULLSHIT!"

He sighed, as if you were his deranged relative who was climbing up some telephone pole.

"YOU just can't handle the fact that I saw you almost fucking cry! I caught you weak, and that's a power shift, and you don't FUCKING like it, do you?!"

His jaw ticked for a moment, but he managed to let out a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. And then, as if what you said wasn't quite literally exactly what he was feeling, he asked, "Are you done?"

"NO, I'm not fucking done! I still haven't got to the part where you threatened to accuse him of rape, which is a fucking terrible thing to joke about in the first pla-"

"Look, man, I don't have time for this shit, okay? I'm not hurting Fezco! I came here so I could tell you something."

"My GOD, Nate, you made your point! I won't tell anyone!", you groaned, snatching a drink from some already-tipsy guy's hand and downing it.

"That's totally hygienic.", he remarked, eyes finally tearing away from you as you both watched the drunkard stumble over a girl who was getting rid of her lunch and breakfast in the bushes.

"I got new incentive.", he murmured, his forehead against yours, and his thumb rubbing your cheek as if it owned land there.

"What, now you're going make Shane out to be a rapist, too?"

Not a bad idea, actually. The corners of his mouth curled down, and he scanned your face as if he were actually thinking about it, eliciting a tsk from you.

He hid a chortle as he continued. "I'm offering you a deal. You were right, back at the bleachers about the control thing."

He was about to ask you to sell your soul, you could fucking feel it.

"So... you get to control me. For however long you need. Like, a month, a week, whatever. Just don't tell anyone about my family."

Whoa. Plot twist. You did not expect him to sell his soul.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure. So if I asked you to show up to school naked?"

"Yes, I'd show up to school naked for you. But it's funny seeing me naked is your first instinct."

His trust issues were suddenly working out in your favour- he was essentially offering himself up as collateral.

"If I ask you to announce a formal apology to me on a bullhorn before your game?"

"I just want you to leave my family alone, Y/N."

So that's where Nate Jacobs' humanity began. At his family. Noted.

"I promise. I'll do anything." The urge to say 'then die' was strong, but not invincible.

You wracked your brain looking for something you could make this psychopath do that would not cause him immense pleasure.

"Ah, see? Being the one in control isn't all it's cracked up to be. Too much power, and you don't even know what to do with it.", he taunted, pouting as he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead harder against yours. "Think. What is it you want from me?"

What the fuck did you want him to do?

"Do you want an apology? No, 'cause I've already given you plenty and you don't want meaningless things, do you?" His lips lightly touched yours and you could swear he smirked when you flinched on reflex.

But no. That wasn't what you wanted. He was spot-on.

"You want... do you want money? I'm a trust fund baby, essentially, right? My father basically owns the town. Sure, I could hook you up. Royal Enfield, BMW. Or, if you want, Chanel? But that won't cost me anything, at least not emotionally, yeah? So no. That's not it, either."

Why did you suddenly feel like your thoughts were transferring into his head?

"You want me? You want to cut me up, just like I forced you to watch me do to myself? You want to hold a gun to my throat like I did to you? No, because I'd low-key like it."

Yes, he would. So no, you didn't want it.

"C'mon, think. I'm at your mercy, I'm all yours. There's definitely one thing you want and you're just too much of a pussy to say it."

Why were you letting him do this? Why did you just accept that it was the world according to Nate?

"You wanna know what I think, huh? Huh? I'll tell you what I think.", he murmured. "I think you want me to care."

That got your attention. "Care?"

"I think you actually want me to give a shit about you, so you can justify to yourself why you keep lettin' this happen, don'tcha?", he asked, thumb rubbing your jawline. "You want me to stop acting like this whole thing between us is a game. You want me to acknowledge what I'm doing to you."

You hated this. You hated when men were right - it was ridiculous. And you absolutely despised when Nate was right, because it was dangerous.

"Look, I just want you out of my life, Nate.", you lied.

That had come out way too fast. That was the easiest thing he could do. That was the kindest thing you could have ordered him to do. That was mercy.

So why was he acting like you'd just asked him to jump into a fire?

"That's it?"

He didn't buy it. And neither did you. Because yes, you'd technically be very reasonable to want him out of your life. But no, the danger, the unnecessarily sexy amount of mortal peril you'd be in every second that you were around him- it was your fucked up version of heroin.

"I don't think you understand just what you're asking. You're going to miss me."

You scoffed and he shrugged, in a gesture that only seemed pitiful, as though he were allowing you to believe that for the time being.

'Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, baby', you could almost hear him snark.

"What if I miss you?"

You shrugged, downing another shot - one you'd stolen from a drunk girl this time. "I dunno. Just don't."

"You'll still come to games? Fist-bump me?"

"Still come to games? I guess, maybe? I'll high-five you, or something."

"I'll think it over." Wait, wasn't he the one who was making an offer?

═════════════════════ 🧿 ════════════════════

He found you almost fifteen minutes later, probably after mulling it over with a drink.

"I accept your terms. I'll go out of your life, starting Monday. However, I've got a little som'n som'n to show you.".

An AK-47? An atom-bomb? A grave he dug specially for you?

"It's a surprise. Only an hour. That's all I'm asking."

Only your sanity. That's all he was asking.

You'd promised yourself you'd never take anything from Nate Jacobs again, and you'd stuck to it.

I mean.

That was until he'd offered you molly.

Molly made you happy.

Molly made you forget stuff, like college apps, the loss of your internship and the fact that you'd basically been lying to your family the entirety of last week about the scar on your forehead.

But how he'd found that out was a question for the ages. And he seemed to know exactly what molly did to you.

And you best believe he was milking it.

"I want to get a tattoo."

"Okay...?"

"Correction : I want us to get a tattoo.", he whispered, before tsk-ing at your derisive snort. "C'mon, you get to draw whatever you want on me and I'll get it tattooed, I promise!"

"Tattoos are permanent, Nate."

"And you know what? So am I. In your life. In your head. On your lips.", he reminded, grinning mischievously, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

You barely fought against him - the ecstasy sprinting through your blood vessels - and you found yourself lying back on the grass, his hands bracketing your hair.

"Just fucking draw something on me, Y/N. Come on. And I'll draw something on you. Yeah? Sound good?", he asked, his hand creeping up your shirt with surprising reverence.

He chuckled breathily against your lips, shaking his head as he rolled off you, lying next to you.

"I'll draw something nice and meaningful. And you get to, as well. Nothing cheesy, though. Like a fucking arrow-heart or an anchor or some shit."

"How about a star?"

"What, a star is not cheesy? That's the cheesiest thing ever. That's the pussy tattoo.", he muttered, before looking up at your eyes, sighing magnanimously. "What kind of star?"

"The ones that are hard to draw. With all the lines."

"Really, Y/N? I give you the chance to mark my body up and you want the hardest thing to draw from second grade?"

"Where'd you want it?"

"Where will you be willing to touch me?"

That was a million dollar question. Willing is a very subjective term.

"Neck. Under my ear."

You nodded, taking the pen he'd brought and gently tracing out a couple stars under his neck. He played with some of your hair that had fallen in front of his face, with terrifying dedication, as you did so. "Yeah. Done. You actually getting this tattooed?"

"Now you.", he ordered, grabbing your wrist, not answering the question. Red flag number eleven thousand. The pen lid in his mouth and a focused furrow to his brow, he began drawing.

"Infinity symbol.", he informed you, before you could even ask.

"Why?"

"I dunno. It's meaningful. 'To infinity and beyond'. Favourite Disney Movie, right?"

"That is not my favourite-"

"Yeah, well, it's mine. Buzz Lightyear is like, my hero.", he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the drawing and then kissing it softly, all while looking at you.

"Really? You seem like a Big Hero 6 guy to me."

He laughed deeper. "You always take me so seriously."

"Fuuuck, I know I'm not supposed to say this..."

He lolled his head over to you. "You could tell me you're Ted Bundy reincarnate and I'd still smash."

You decided to ignore that comment. "I'm not supposed to say this, but... but I get why Rue did it. Like Jesus fucking Christ."

He nodded in understanding, looking at the tiny packet that still had a couple pills in it. "She was just too weak to limit herself. But we got no limits. You got infinity on your wrist."

"Look, Nate, I can't tattoo that shit. My family would kill themselves."

"Same."

"Then why did you-"

"We're gonna do something that could go either way. It could either freak you out or turn you on. On the off chance that it's both, then we're more similar than you realize.", he slurred, lazily brushing hair behind your ear. "'Kay?"

"What are we gonna do?", you asked, trying your hardest to pull away, but the ecstasy made you genuinely defenceless against human touch. And it didn't help that Nate was holding your arms tightly down on the ground, as if he were trying to plant roots.

"We're going to carve the tattoos."

He said it so conspiratorially. As though this was your secret to surviving the zombie apocalypse. And his fucking eyes. Glowing like fireworks. Glowing like a child finally being told he could get what he wanted for Christmas.

"WHAT?!"

He licked his lips with an almost roll of his eyes as he looked up at you, because you were so clearly overreacting, right? Slitting your own skin in the shape of an infinity on it was a perfectly normal teenage activity. Of course. Drinking, smoking, fucking, slicing.

"I'll do it. I'm experienced, as you know.", he scoffed, his lips at your shoulder now. "We only have about fifteen minutes left of your curfew, Y/N, please. Please? Play nice."

The molly was clouding your senses, clearly. You could tell because a) you were still having this conversation and b) you didn't even question how he knew what time your curfew was, and c) you hadn't punched him yet.

"Think about it, it's less permanent than a tattoo, baby, please."

And then he placed another one of those little pink pills on your tongue, pressing down and forcing you to swallow.

MONDAY.

The scream came too late to your liking.

You'd tried to scream faster, but everything had come rushing back to you. The fever dream was not a dream. It's always relieving when terrible 'realities' end up only being dreams. It's a different kind of terror when you realize that the nightmare was real.

The number eighteen was etched on your wrist like a pathetic mark, like... like a brand.

You couldn't even begin to figure out just what the fuck that was supposed to be. Eighteen? How was that meaningful? The year it becomes legal to have sex? Freedom, maybe? Joy?

He wanted this aneurysm in your head. He'd placed it there.

FUCK !

FRIDAY.

"What? What is it you want?!"

He frowned, his face softening out of genuine confusion, making him look almost comically harmless in the harsh stadium lighting. "You said you'd still fist-bump me."

"What does 18 mean?"

He shrugged, holding out his fist. You rolled your eyes, bumping it with your own. And then, after telling yourself you were imagining the ghost of a smirk on his lips, you froze. Because he'd turned, running off to the middle of the field. You saw his back.

His jersey. 18. FUCK. He blew you a kiss about two seconds before the ball was passed to him. 18. FUCK.

"Did you just fist-bump Nate?"

"Yeah."

"Why?", asked Maddy, scoffing softly.

"He was talking to me about the project and then he said he had to go, so I wished him luck and... I guess I fist-bumped him."

"Oh, yeah, ew, the project. How's that going?"

"I scrapped it."

"Why?", she questioned, after shaking her pom-poms and screaming out some over-enthusiastic cheer.

"I don't fucking like him. At all. He's a DICK."

"What? No way. I had no idea.", she muttered sardonically, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "But was it, like, really bad?"

You nodded.

"After the game, you wanna do molly?"

"No." The reply was almost immediate.

"You don't wanna do molly? Don't bullshit me. Shut up. You're doing it with me."

You'd have hugged Maddy for knowing you so well if you weren't so focused on the big, blue, number 18 running on the field, matching the big, red one staying still on your wrist.

FRIDAY, 9PM

Staying over at Maddy's was an offer you shouldn't have declined, because it was getting genuinely infuriating how Nate found out things.

You were still extremely lacking in sobriety when he'd crawled into your bed that night, covering your mouth to make sure you didn't scream. How? Million dollar question.

"You want me to tell you a secret?"

"A secret? Wait, not some bullshit about my lips that you came up with?"

"I listened to Queen."

You sat up. "WHAT?"

He chuckled, sitting up as well and tilting his head while resting it on his knees. "What? Elvis, too. I even watched Blue Hawaii. I low-key liked it. Why? Would it have changed your mind?"

You frowned for a moment, before shaking your head. "Still would've been nice to know."

"Okay, how about you just kiss me now, Rue 2.0?", he asked, tracing out the number eighteen on your wrist before looking up at you through slightly furrowed brows. That was a challenge, of sorts, that gaze.

"You have something to ask me." Didn't take a genius to figure it out. Insinuation was painted all over his face. He had an accusation and he needed you to defend it.

"When Shane fucked you, where'd he come?"

You frowned, staring at him for a moment. "Yo, I- what? Where is this coming from?"

"At practice he was saying he fucked you."

"He's a dickwad, of course he did."

"It doesn't bother you that he's spreading that shit?"

"If I paid attention to every rumour some butthurt, fragile-ego jock spread about me, I wouldn't have time to fucking study."

"Your reputation's gone, though. That's fine for you?"

You sucked on your teeth for a moment before exhaling. "You're here to find out if I'm easy?"

He looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"If I did this, Y/N, would you stop me?", he asked, shifting to his knees at the foot of the bed. "Hm? If I just...", he trailed off, kissing up your knee to your thigh.

"Nate. Stop."

"That's not stopping me.", he murmured, gripping your back and yanking you closer.

You kicked him away, grimacing. "Get out."

He gazed up at you, and for a moment there, it seemed like he was rooting for you, for the rumours to just be cruel rumours and not true.

"Get OUT!"

"You can't let me kiss you and then just... it doesn't work like that."

The world looked glittery and he looked godly kneeling down there.

His tongue licked slowly up your inner thigh. "C'mon. Take it off. It's just me."

"Get out."

He rolled his eyes, yanking your shorts down himself. "I fucking...", he murmured, voice muffled against your skin. "Love you."

"You don't fucking love me!" You were struggling but it was fruitless.

"I could."

"Get out, I'm not bullshitting."

"C'mon.", he murmured, reaching up to unhook your bra before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "C'mon."

"No! Get off!" His hand held you down.

"Just let me-", he muttered, his fingers finally removing your underwear as he pressed a chaste kiss higher up your thigh. Your breath hitched and his smirk widened, albeit, with a bit of disappointment. "There we go."

Kicking him away, you finally snapped. Maybe it was the molly. Maybe it was his tongue. Maybe it was the fact that he'd somehow found out that molly made you make extremely bad decisions. Maybe it was the fact that he knew you wanted nothing more than to fuck him that night.

"GET THE FUCK OUT, NATE! YOU SAID YOU'D LEAVE ME ALONE MONDAY, IT'S FRIDAY! GET THE FUCK OUT, PLEASE!" He took every kick and every punch like a total champ, you'd give him that.

The disappointment left, and he smiled, softly, caringly, like a mother hanging up her child's drawing on the fridge, as he wiped your tears away.

Standing up, he grabbed your hair, staring into your eyes so deeply you were half-wondering if they'd changed colour, before patting your shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

Proud for disproving a rumour?

You watched his shadow on your wall as it climbed down the window behind you.

Look, one thing could be said. Nate Jacobs was a man of his word. He did not speak to you. He did not text you. He did not acknowledge you.

You'd blocked him online and he'd blocked you in real life.

However, his other account still kept tabs on you.

Average social media interaction.

Shane Crestin ended up in the ER later that night.

Average Nate Jacobs interaction.

[noodlewritez]

The apple of his eye (MDNI)

Pairings: Carl Grimes X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Ron is alive blegh, smut (EVERYONE IS 18+), jealousy sex, established relationship, kinda long

Ever since Carl lost his eye to Ron, you had hated him from the root of your being, you couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him, let alone speak to him. I mean, how could you? He shot your boyfriend in the eye....

Until Rick assigned you on a run with him. Amazing.

“It’s only a run, Carl-“

“I don’t care! Do you know what he’s capable of? He almost killed me, what if he puts your life in danger to, the things I would do, Y/N..”

“Carl…” You tried to ease his mind but if there’s anything he gets from his father, it’s his stubbornness.

“You’re not going, he’s putting your life in his hands and I can’t take that risk.” You sighed and connected your forehead to his. “I’ll be fine..” I’m sure you’ll hear me scream if he tries anything...” You chuckle lightly.

But he took it much more seriously than you did.

The day of the run, while you grabbed your gun, he sat on a chair, watching you anxiously. He knew you were probably gonna be find but he couldn’t not worry about you. When you were ready, you turn to him and smile, spreading your arms out for a hug.

He completes the hug, getting up from the chair, smoothing out your hair and kissing just below your ear. “Be careful. I’m serious. He tries anything and you fucking tell me.” You nod, blushing and smiling then head out the door.

On the run, it was mostly Ron just trying to brag about one thing or another and you didn’t necessarily like it. You ignored him. You spit a way into the pharmacy but only by a high window. “Hey-shut up-get me up there.” You tell him and he follows, boosting you up by the feet and helping you in. “Anything good in there?”

Except you can’t see. You shine your flashlight around, looking for the things on the list Rick sent you with. “I don’t see anything! Might need some help looking!” You call out. “I’ll find a way in!” He responds.

And you wait...and you wait and eventually it's fucking dark out.

"Fuck me." You thought.

You grab a rope and just pray to god it's long enough to get you out of the building. You throw it and it barely gets you out. You climb out, keeping your gun loaded and ready if walkers find you. Only a few do, one at a time and you barely fight past them, scratching yourself up on the ground. You make a run for Alexandria and the guards see you. "It's me! Y/N!"

They open the gate and start asking you what happened and how'd you take so long. But you shove past them, planning to explain later. Right now, you're pissed. You walk to Carl's house and open the door to Carl yelling at Ron and demanding to know where you were.

"Carl..?" As soon as he sees you he's hugging you, asking if the scratches on you were from walkers, if you were okay, what had happened. You explain quickly what had happened while staring at Ron. As soon as you're done, Carl is seething.

"You fucking animal." He growls and punches Ron in the mouth. "Get up. You left her out there?!" He demands. Ron tries to lie, saying he couldn't find a way in but Carl doesn't care about that. He cares about Ron getting karma.

"You left her out there, you fucking dog.” He starts punching him, hard, when you pull Carl off of him. "Carl...Enough. come on don't beat the kid to a pulp."

"Out. Now." He growls and Ron runs out quickly with a busted lip, bloody nose and a bruised eye. Carl hugs you and smooths your hair down to comfort you. "I'm so sorry. I tried getting him to tell me where you were, what had happened..." You smile slightly and hug him back when he scoops you up and carries you to his room.

He starts a shower for you where he washes your hair for you and worships you, kissing your knuckles. You just hum in response to his actions as he kisses up and down your neck, leaving hickeys. An once you get out, he scoops you up onto the counter, making out with you, breathing heavily and the only thing between you two is a towel around his waist.

Fuck.

His hands trailed the small of your back as you sat on his lap on his bed, kissing each other heatedly, breathing heavily and whimpering into each other mouths. "Put it in?" You whimper. He nods, looking down, his hat falling partially in front of his face. You giggle and put it on your own head as he slides across your clit. "Ah-! Fuck.." You cry out and he smiles while still looking down, pushing up into you.

"Y/N.." He says, breathless. "Fuck, you are all fucking mine."

And he fucks you senseless, not making you do any of the work, just letting you take him inch by inch, babbling in your ear, praising you.

"Fuck...all mine...all mine...So fucking pretty.." He would say breathlessly as he tilts his head slightly. You lay your head on his shoulder, biting into the skin and leaving a bite mark for everyone to see. You can only let out a string of whimpers from how good he's fucking you and eventually the tight knot in your lower stomach tightens and you claw at him "Close..Carl-!"

"Make a mess on me. Make a fucking mess, let everyone know you're mine."

And with that, the tight knot snaps and you collapse against his chest and he holds you so you don't fall as he continues fucking you through your orgasm, he starts kissing your cheek letting you know he’s there.

As he feels you clenching, he thrusts 1, 2, 3 more times and groans deeply, shooting into your womb as he buries his face in your hair.

"Fuck, I need to make you jealous more often.." You joke.

[itsgrimeytime]

he's such a pretty liar || Rick Grimes (TWD) × gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz @deadgirlrin

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Dialogue Prompts: 8 + 2

Inspiration: my boy by Billie Eilish

Summary: You and Rick had gotten along at some point, at the farm and prison. You were friends even. Until the Governor killed Hershel, which you believed to be perfectly preventable. Because of his inaction then, you'd gotten a bitter taste in your mouth at the thought of him and eventually, he started to reciprocate the behavior. But as time passes, and you experience more and more with him, is it really hate that you feel?

TWs: enemies to lovers (like fr though), yelling, mentions of death (Shane, Lori, Beth, and Hershel), mention of the Claimers scene, cursing, anger, nosebleed, bruising, love confessions, injuries, blood, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: This is based on Carl being mad at Rick after the prison. Rick do be stressed out, and he do be saying some terrible stuff, but like so are you. This gif is so 🫣💞🤭💞🤪. Anyway, enjoy :))) ]]

You weren't a bad person, and in that regard, you wouldn't say Rick was either. Honestly, you respected him as a leader -you just didn't agree with all his choices. That's where it all started, after all, isn't it?

You'd seen what a wrong choice could do, you'd watched Hershel die right in front of your eyes. You'd seen it all.

And, sure, maybe you were grieving a little but you still largely disagreed with Rick's actions on the matter. It was preventable.

It started there, and only really got worse. It was like once you identified one flaw, suddenly you were second-guessing his every move. The two of you couldn't be in a room without arguing, couldn't be put on shifts together, nothing. Daryl, for one, wouldn't let you be alone together at all. And if it wasn't him, it was someone else.

"Rick, seriously," you spoke once, almost sternly, "-that can't be your decision."

"Why?" he responded -pointed and short, "-Ya got a better idea? Go right fuckin' ahead."

You knew that since the prison, Rick had been strung thin. You knew that he had been harder on himself than you could ever be about Hershel. But, you still were angry. Sometimes, sometimes it felt like maybe he was just a target for everything that you'd been through. And you were trying to change your behavior, change your ways.

You'd known him for so long, and you were going to be stuck with him. The group, even though the two of you weren't on the best terms, was like family to you.

And then, it started getting personal.

This argument stemmed from something small, trivial, you can't even remember it now. Maybe a decision on a run? You can't-

"Ya act like ya ain't made mistakes of your own," he added, "-all high and damn mighty-"

"When did I say that?" You interrupted, more cold than anything, "-You're putting words in my mouth, Grimes."

"-Because I seem to remember ya tellin' me about your family," he continued, not even pausing to listen to you.

You stilled in place.

"Rick," you warned (voice slightly shaking), "-don't... don't go there."

Your family. At the beginning of all this, you'd froze -scared. Watched one of them get bitten, and then everyone just followed after -not willing to grieve. You regretted not being quicker, not being more aware, but you weren't used to it. You weren't-

"Ya fucked up," Rick continued, as if he wasn't bringing up what he was, "-We all do, why do you-"

"No, no," you shook your head, voice shaking, "-Rick, that is not fair. You can't bring up my family-"

You had hated yourself for that, hated yourself. Still did. You would never forgive yourself for not saving them, even though you really didn't have an idea how to then, you should have-

God, he was bringing this up? Really?

"-over a goddamn run strategy."

"Well, you pick apart every damn thing I do," he retorted, "-'Thought I'd do the same for once."

"Oh, fuck you, Rick," you seethed, tears burning the backs of your eyes, "-you want me to poke at your wounds? Talk about who you could've saved?"

He pursed his lips, and you saw something flash through his eyes (they were trailing the now shake of your hands) that looked a little like regret. Like maybe he was understanding what he said. You felt like your skin was on fire.

"Do you want me to start from the beginning?" You tsked, a fire burning in your chest, "-Shane? Or maybe Lori? Beth? Hershel-"

"Stop," he stated, quieter than before.

"-Why, Rick?" you hissed, and you felt the tears now, "-Is this not what we're talking about? Oh, do you not want me to bring that up? Over a run?"

"I get it," he spoke, softer, and something in you sharpened, "-I get it, Y/N."

"Do you?" you responded, frustrated and just... angry, "-Do you, Rick?"

"I shouldn't 'ave-"

"Can it," you interrupted -short, "-Let's just get the fucking supplies and go."

Rick frowned, blue eyes far more emotive (all you could see was regret and pity), "Y/N, I didn't-"

"You didn't what?" You countered, and your voice was cracking, "-You didn't mean to bring up the fact that I watched my family die, right in front of me? Do you think that I don't hate myself every day for not doing anything then?"

Rick didn't say a word.

"-Hate to break it to you, sheriff, but I fucking do."

"Y/N..." he trailed off, blue eyes much calmer, the rage from before dissipating out of his voice.

"No, just-" you cleared your throat, wiping mindlessly at your frustratingly red eyes, "-Let's get this shit done and leave."

From then on, it had been much deeper.

You couldn't stand him, you hadn't been alone with him since. He made your skin crawl and your mind flare up in anger, and sometimes, just sometimes, it would shake your respect for him. Because you did have some, you probably wouldn't even be here, if you didn't.

The funny thing about it all was that you were close to Carl, very close to him. At the prison, after Lori's death, you'd nearly been inseparable. It was kind of like a parent relationship, but at the same time a little like a friend. It made you want to reconcile sometimes, but all you and Rick did was clash.

So much that you started to wonder what a normal conversation was like with him.

And then, you had the run-in with the Claimers.

God, what they'd threatened to do to Carl? You personally would've snapped their spine yourself if you had the chance. But what Rick had done? You couldn't imagine it yourself.

But you knew that he did what he had to. And some part of you wanted to tell him that, despite... despite all of your problems, you knew he needed it.

It was late that night when you decided to talk to him. It was just the two of you awake. You, on purpose, and you just knew Rick would be. Doing that was probably still rattling through his skull, he probably couldn't even close his eyes without-

Your steps were slow and careful, trying not to startle him -he just seemed to be staring. Endlessly staring, and just pacing. Despite it all, you felt something in your chest swirl with worry.

"Rick?" you spoke, gently. Even still, you saw his whole body tense up.

"Please," he muttered, voice low and gravelly -blue eyes heavy on you, "-I don't need your shit right now. I kno' 'at I did somethin' bad, really damn bad. But I just can't deal wit' ya-"

"No, Rick," you interrupted, "-that's not why I'm... That's not what I want to say."

"What do ya want to say, then?"

"You made the right decision," you responded, tone sturdy and unmoving, "-you... you did what you had to."

Rick stilled, something flickering through his face -a flutter of emotions.

"I know, we aren't on the best terms, but-" you rolled your lip around your teeth, "-you're not a monster, Rick."

The silence was loud then, as his blue eyes skimmed over you -carefully. Maybe like he was seeing a new you, or maybe an old one he'd forgotten about. One you'd forgotten about.

"Trust me, I know it feels like it," you added (mind flashing with what you'd done over the years), "-but you did what you had to. You saved your son, and that's all that matters."

He didn't say anything for a moment, trying to process your words. And if you really looked, you might've seen his eyes fogging up a little and the slight drop of tension in his shoulders. A little like he was waiting for someone to tell him that.

And then, he replied, "Thank ya."

You pursed your lips a moment, fidgeting with your hands. You weren't sure what else to say. This was all so new. With a succinct nod, you moved to spin on your heel and lay down for the night.

"Wait," he called, and you turned back to him -eyes inquisitive.

There was a beat.

"-'At day, on the run," he continued, slow and regretful, "-I'm... I'm sorry. I never should 'ave said somethin' like 'at. I never should 'ave brought it up at all. 'Wasn't right of me to."

"Thanks, Rick," you responded, brief but genuine, grateful. You could tell he understood.

Before you could fully turn around though, he added -softer, with something you couldn't quite name, "Goodnight, Y/N."

There was a pleasant hum in your mind at the way he said your name, but you shoved it away. You'd locked all of that far away, a long time ago.

"Night, Grimes," you chimed back, lighter in tone.

He smiled at you then, and something in you gleamed a little from it. Not that you would ever say it out loud.

There was something different after that, a sort of trust or respect. Or maybe something else, you didn't really know. It was there, though.

When you found Alexandria, things shifted a little. Mostly because it was your group against another one, you and Rick were profoundly on the same side. That being said, you still clashed. You weren't sure if it was just the authority of it all, or what? (It might've had a little to do with a blonde wife that he was spending some time with, but you'd never say that out loud.)

"You're seriously not going to let me lead the run?"

"I got Daryl on it," he responded, eyes solely sat on you.

"He's been on all the runs lately," you continued, trying to explain your case, "-Shouldn't this shit be evenly distributed? Have you even talked to Daryl about what he wants? Or are you just assigning us like it's some dictatorship-"

"'Course I damn talked to 'im," he snapped back, and you could see something tired in his eyes, "-everybody gets a say in what 'ey're doin', ya know 'at."

"Except for me," you contradicted, "-you keep giving me the same fucking chores, when I'm useful in other places-"

And he was, he kept you in Alexandria -washing clothes, making dinner, keeping an eye on the people. He made you some kind of mediator between Deanna's people and your own. But you were useful, you shouldn't be locked inside like you couldn't handle yourself. Because you could, and you had before.

"-You know, I scavenged for months before I met you, right? I was alone, and I figured it out."

"I know 'at," he confirmed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could nearly see the stress radiating off him, but you couldn't stop, not then.

"So, so what-" you asked, "-you don't trust me? You don't think I can do it?"

Rick sighed, big and loud -fully facing you, "It ain't 'at, Y/N. I know ya can handle yourself, I've seen it."

"Then, what is the problem, Grimes? I don't get it-"

"Just take the goddamn next run," he groaned, something in his tone broken (and something a little like guilt curled up in your stomach), "-I'll tell Daryl he's switchin'."

You stopped in place, words faltering off your lips. Your will and the fire in your gut extinguished, you suddenly felt very out of place, and a little like the bad guy. You knew you weren't though, but he just looked so tired-

"Okay," you finally responded, a little dumbfounded, "-thanks."

He nodded in your direction and didn't say a word. You took it as a motion to move along, so you did.

Apparently, he might've had a good reason to worry.

It wasn't that first run, or even the second or third, it was the fourth after that conversation that you were stupid. Well, it really wasn't your fault. You thought someone had your back, and they didn't; so, one of the walkers had clawed pretty deep into your arm.

It was bleeding a lot (maybe too much) and probably needed stitches, but you didn't worry about it. Denise could handle it, and you, as a community, were pretty good on medical supplies at this point.

What you didn't expect, was after Denise patched you up for one Rick Grimes to be on your ass.

You were still sitting in her doctor's space (you had no idea what to call it) then, silently trailing your fingers over the bandaging. You could already see some of the blood through the white of it. It made you a little nervous, you won't lie.

And then, the door swung open.

At first, you nearly grabbed for the knife you hid on you -alarmed, assuming it was someone coming to hurt you. Instead, you were met with one Rick Grimes -his face was all scrunched up in that way he always got when he was frustrated.

If there was one thing you could recognize, it was that.

"Rick?" you questioned -carefully, a little shocked by him bursting into the room. Did you do something to him recently?

"'At's why ya can't go on fuckin' runs," he grumbled out -suddenly so angry, it made your head spin.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What?"

"You're always makin' damn bad decisions," he continued, and something in you bristled. Your defenses were up in an instant.

"What the fuck, Rick?" you countered, "-You don't even know what happened, how the hell do you know it's on me?"

"You're injured," he clarified, a little like he was talking to himself, "-ya made a stupid mistake-"

"How the hell do you know that?" you hissed, "-Do you just think everything that goes wrong has to be my fucking fault, Grimes?"

"-and you're damn hurt."

There was something there in his tone, something different. Your frustration twisted into a little bit of curiosity. What was that?

"I can’t leave ya alone for one second without ya hurting yourself, can I?" He started up again, and it was there again, angry but also... but also-

Your eyes swam over him, and you recognized it then, worry. He was worried about you, you felt something in you stall. It was so different from what you knew from him-

"I mean," you responded, a little awkwardly -unsure (since when did he care so much?), "-I’m fine so it’s okay-"

"No, it’s not okay," he suddenly shot his eyes to you, blue eyes heavy with worry (so much, it shot to your core), "-Not when I feel like I’m goin' to go batshit fuckin' crazy, thinkin' you’ve hurt yourself."

It was silent for a moment, as your mind processed the words. Skimming along his face, as he seemed to do the same -frustration dissipating along his features.

That... That was new.

"It's just some scratches," you spoke -a little lost, you weren't sure exactly what to say. He cared about you that much? Thought about you that much?

Rick's eyes darted to the bandages, which were just about as dark as before -which was just a little, the stitches seemed to stop it mostly. Something in him relaxed, you could tell in his shoulders -the drop of the tension. You couldn't believe that was because of you. When-

"Ya had to get stitches, yeah?" He spoke, suddenly and a bit awkwardly too (like he wasn't sure what to do).

"I did," you confirmed, just looking and something in you felt like you needed to tell him more, so you did, "-Uh, five in one, and three in the other."

He pursed his lips (like he was debating something), before shattering out a breath, "Can I see it?"

"It's already wrapped up," you responded, blankly -you were running a little on autopilot, "-She already-"

"Denise can rewrap it," he offered, stepping closer. Something in your stomach stirred.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You want to waste medical supplies, just so you can see my wound?"

Rick's lips pressed into a thin line, something in him firing back up, "I'll replace the supplies my damn self, if I 'ave to, just let me see."

You couldn't really say anything, it felt like all the words had washed from your head. Like you couldn't speak if your life was on the line.

He faltered a second, sighing, and his eyes shifted to something softer (a little like pleading), "I... I need to see if ya are alright."

You felt like you were stone -frozen.

"Please."

Your heart lept into your throat (and you let your mind drift somewhere you'd never let it before), "Yeah, okay."

That started the shift.

And he started checking over you after every run, you thought it would've been annoying but... you got used to it. And something in you liked helping him calm down, although you'd never say it out loud.

Things were a little different. You clashed but it wasn't as fiery anymore. Because you knew he cared about you, and somewhere you could acknowledge you cared about him. (More than you'd ever admit.)

This time it wasn't even Rick you were arguing with. It was someone originally from Alexandria. You couldn't even remember their name, but they'd said something about you and you let it slide. But then, they kept going.

"You made a shit call," the guy remarked, sauntering up to your side.

You were a little startled, but you stayed composed, "What are you talking about?"

"We could've gotten more supplies," he continued, "-that gun store was right there, and you called the whole fucking thing off."

You soured -something steeling in your gut, "You mean the one that was swarmed? Hate to break it to you, but we were outnumbered."

"We could've done it," he added -persistent, something frustrated in his tone, "-we had the manpower."

"Are you serious?" you laughed a little incredulously, "-There were three of us, and about 30, 40 maybe, walkers. That is-"

"Maybe you couldn't have done it," he tsked, lips falling in a flat line.

You flexed your jaw, trying to stay composed, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You're a sorry fucking excuse for a lead," he gritted through his teeth, "-You don't know shit about-"

"Next time, just go right ahead and do it yourself then," you shot back but stayed still in your space (composed, composed, composed), "-and I don't know about you, but I value life more than something we already fucking have-"

"It's ammunition," he seethed, stepping much closer to you -something sparking behind his eyes, "-Don't know if you fucking know this, but it's pretty damn important to survival-"

"No," you disagreed, voice calm and collected, "-it's not. You don't need to walk into a situation that you can't handle-"

Without warning, a fist flew at your face -right at the nose.

"Shit," you hissed, and you felt the thrum of pain under your skin and could almost immediately taste the coppery taste of blood, "-What the fuck? Why did you-"

"What the hell is goin' on 'ere?"

It was Rick, and his tone was something you'd only heard a few times -blue eyes flickering over you. They held onto your, now bleeding, nose which you were now trying to soothe, and something in his jaw tightened.

The guy was the first one to speak, mostly because you were trying to stop the bleeding. Luckily, Maggie rushed up to your side with paper towels -doing her best to help too.

"They made a mistake on the run-"

Rick didn't let him get far, "So, you punched 'em in the damn face?"

"Well," the guy fell quieter, "-we were arguing-"

Maggie snapped back, shifting her focus for a moment, "You were arguin'."

"No-"

"They were just trying to talk some sense into ya," she continued, tone cold, "-You were the one who took it personally-"

Rick put a hand on her shoulder, eyes flickering toward you -something swimming through them that you recognized from a different day, and Maggie took the notion to stop talking. She turned back to you, and gently guided you to tilt your head forward. On instinct, you pinched your nostrils shut -breathing out of your mouth.

"Even if it was a fuckin' argument," Rick tsked, something cold in his tone, "-there's no damn reason to do 'at. They weren't gettin' violent with ya-"

"How do you know that?"

"Because I kno' 'em," he retorted, "-an' if 'ey got their hands on ya, you wouldn't be standin' in front of me."

You laughed a little and could feel his eyes shoot to you for a second. It made something in your chest flutter, something you were trying desperately to ignore.

"We need to get ya some ice," Maggie spoke, mostly to herself, "-It's already bruisin' up pretty bad."

"'S leave 'is for another day," Rick seemed to exit the conversation with the man, tone unshakable, "-but if I 'ear anythin' else from ya, 'ere's gonna be a problem. Ya got 'at?"

You could almost visually see the way Rick shifted as he made his way over to you. Composure slipping into something more worried, eyebrows furrowing and eyes shining in an entirely different way. Like he couldn't help it, his hands frantically found themselves along your shoulders. It made your skin buzz a little, and made you feel a little woozy. Well, you guessed there could be more than one reason for that.

On that note, you stumbled in place a little, and Rick's hands immediately slid to your sides -stabilizing you. Your heart skipped a beat, stupid fucking handsome men with big fucking hands.

"'Ey, can ya bring a chair over 'ere, please?"

Before you could so much as blink, he was pushing you into it -gently, mind you. Ever-so-gently. And almost on instinct, he fell onto one knee in front of you, trying to hold your eye contact with your head slightly forward, you guessed. His eyes were the same as that day, but there was something else there too, something fuzzier.

"Maggie, ya go get the ice," he turned to her, "-I'll stay with 'em."

She seemed to scamper off because you could tell it was just the two of you. Maybe he'd warded off everyone else, Rick had this... aura to him when he wanted to -a dangerous one. Sometimes you thought it was to balance out his natural nature as a leader.

Quietly, you heard Rick tear off another paper towel and gently wipe at your mouth (where you imagined blood was staining at this point). It was strangely intimate, as you just skimmed over his face.

He was entirely focused on the task, so your eyes roamed along the creases along his face, the blue of his eyes, the sharp line of his nose, the little curls that peeked behind his ears-

You blinked, clearing your thoughts. He was always handsome, you knew that.

"What even is that dick's name?" you questioned, testing to see if your nose had stopped bleeding as much. It had.

Rick smiled a little, looking up at your eyes from where he was focused before (he seemed to be done), "I 'ave no fuckin' clue."

You laughed at that, and if you were honest with yourself thought you saw something shoot through his eyes. Something warm. You ignored it.

"'S hurt?" he spoke, softer.

You responded, simply, "I've had worse."

Rick smiled a little at that, but fell into something more serious, "So, yeah?"

"Like a bitch," you admitted, and he let out a low sort of chuckle.

It made something in you relax, something warm lighting up in your chest. You let yourself feel it this time, just once.

"Just so ya know," he interrupted your thought process, "-'at ain't happenin' again."

You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows -warmth dissipating, "Are you- Are you chastising me right now?"

"No," he quickly responded, but didn't explain further, "-'M just tellin' ya I ain't lettin' it happen again."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Rick paused a second, ripping another paper towel off and dabbing at your nose. It was probably still bleeding a little bit.

You just watched him, waiting for an explanation. Even though, you weren't entirely sure he was going to give you one.

"Anyone touches ya, says anythin' to ya, so much as looks at ya the wrong way-" he listed, tone deadly serious (it shook through your skull), "-ya come get me, and I’ll set 'em straight. Understand?"

Your mouth moved before you could stop it, "What?"

"I'll handle it," he repeated, pulling away the paper towel and locking eyes with yours, "-It ain't happenin' again."

"Rick," you laughed -incredulously, and maybe a little defensive, "-I don't need a fucking guard dog. I can handle myself."

"'Didn’t say 'at," he hummed, carefully, eyes skimming along your face -a little like he was in wonder (it made your head spin a second), "-'S for me, not ya."

"How does that-"

"If 'ey're fuckin' with ya, 'ey're fuckin' with me," he interrupted, eyes so solid that you couldn't really look away, "-you can handle it how ya want, but Imma 'ave some choice words of my own. So, send 'em my way too."

The words faltered in your throat, something swirling around your heart. He was just so-

The coppery taste again.

You shriveled up your nose in disgust, and Rick laughed at it (something gleaming in his eye), as you reacted -spitting the taste out into the dirt.

"Yeah, keep laughing, Grimes," you tsked, but there was no bite, not really. Not like there used to be, "-I'll beat the shit out of you."

"'Ere's no doubt in my mind," he retorted back, smiling in a way that crinkled at the eyes. You thought for a spare second it was a beautiful one, that maybe he was beautiful.

After that day, you'd say that everything was a little confusing.

These feelings towards Rick were far from new, very far. They'd always kind of been in the very back of your mind. Part of you was actually pretty sure that hating him had in some way distanced you from what you felt otherwise. Now, that is to say, you had definitely hated him at one point. That just didn't mean that it erased the... other thing.

You and Rick were off-kilter. Or at least you were. You guessed you couldn't say anything about him, he was very much a mystery to you at this point.

He just kept doing things. Like the scratch and nosebleed. And every time he'd smile at you a bit warmer, say something you couldn't really avoid. Not anymore. (And you weren't sure you wanted to avoid, honestly.)

And he'd looked at you a lot more, searched you out (when before you used to shun each other, avoid each other), and just smiled at you sometimes for no reason. The thing was you didn't mind it. You wanted him to. Because you... because it was all different.

You were confused, but you weren't going to be the one to encroach on it. It all felt so surreal, that one day something would happen and you'd just snap right back into place -just like before. To be fair, you still argued. But, it was moreso bickering now. And even if it wasn't, before you could get as heated as you used to, you compromised -easily.

You slotted together perfectly and bounced off each other with ease. Hell, he started coming to you about running Alexandria, about problems he couldn't quite get. And the two of you would talk until you worked out a solution. Because you always did.

It made no sense why you'd even clashed in the first place.

You were confused, beyond confused. And you wanted things, wanted to ask things, but they seemed dangerous. Far away-

That brought you here, on a night when you couldn't sleep. Which were more frequent nowadays, if you were completely honest. This whole situation made your mind run for a lot of different reasons, and when it wasn't that, it was nightmares. Alexandria was safe, you knew that, but it didn't necessarily stop your fight or flight -the urge to constantly be on edge, protect.

So, sometimes you sat here on the steps of your porch in the night -the chill and silence of it soothed you. It wouldn't always get you back to sleep, but it would make you feel better. Remind yourself that you're breathing. That you're alive.

You exhaled, trailing your finger along the wood of the railing beside you -absorbing the low buzz of bugs in the air and the strangely familiar groans of walkers outside the walls. It was kinda fucked up that it calmed you down, but you gave yourself a pass.

"Funny seein' ya 'ere."

Your eyes shot up and latched onto his.

The Grimes house was just a couple of houses down, diagonal to yours. So, you could see him, but not entirely clearly.

He was leaning on the porch railing, you could see the sleeves of his jacket against the starch white, and his hair seemed a little messy -your eyes trailed over a particular curl. It was hanging slightly down in front of his face. (You got the urge to fix it, comb it back into place.)

"'Could say the same to you, Grimes," you replied.

You saw him smile, dropping his head to look at the ground. It made something in your chest flutter. But, before you could say anything else, he was stepping down from his porch and making his way to you.

As he got closer you recognized that he was in pajamas with just a jacket thrown over.

He stood just at the bottom of the stairs, leaning onto the railing slightly and just looking at you. Like he always did these days. With worry and... something else.

"Nightmare?" he questioned, genuinely.

You rolled your lip around your teeth, deciding to say, "Kind of."

Rick's lips pressed into a frown, eyes glazing along your face (you didn't look back at him), "Can I sit?"

You were wordless, but moved slightly to the left (despite not really needing to) as unspoken acceptance. He stared at you for a second longer, before slowly but surely making his way to the steps. He sat closer to you than you thought he would've, but it was almost in character of him to do something that surprises you so.

"Ya cold?"

On cue, you shivered slightly, "I've had worse."

Rick let out a low sigh (he knew you well now), nudging off his jacket and hanging it squarely on your shoulders without hesitation. His eyes trailed over you wearing it for a moment, a small look in his eyes that you couldn't name. All shiny as his lips quirked up just a smidgen.

"You don't have to do that," you objected, but it was quiet and weak.

"I want to," he replied, simply.

You couldn't argue with that. Hell, you didn't think you could argue with him anymore-

Rick interrupted the thought, eyebrows furrowed in that kind of way you knew to be worried, "What do ya mean 'kinda'?"

You took a second, staring out into the night -listening to the silence.

"My mind won't stop," you clarified, "-sometimes it's... things I've done, and other times it's... things that I just can't seem to figure out."

"What's it today?"

You pursed your lips a minute, before answering, "Something I can't figure out."

He stared at you, blue eyes flickering along your face in a hazy sort of way. It made something unfurl in your chest that you'd tried to keep shoved down, "Is 'ere anythin' I can do to help?"

You ran the idea through your head a few times, and let your eyes match him a few more. You aren't entirely sure why, but talking to Rick fel a little like he'd never judge you. Even though he had before, it was... it was now. Things were very different.

"Can I ask you a question?" you spoke, then, deflecting a little.

"Shoot," he responded, almost instantly. ( A little like he'd do anything you'd ask.)

"What happened to us?"

Rick's eyebrows furrowed, and you took it as a motion to keep talking, to explain. So, you did.

"We used to-" you dropped your hands on your lap, and stared out into the Alexandrian streets, "-We used to scream at each other until our faces turned red. We couldn't stand each other, and now..."

"'At ain't a good thing?" he questioned, something in his tone a little disappointed (it made your head swirl a little), "-'At it changed, I mean."

"It is," you reassured, facing him a second, "-but I just... Isn't it confusing?"

Rick stayed silent a second, eyes smoothing along your face. Just looking, like maybe he thought you were beautiful (just like you did on that day), or maybe like he never wanted to forget what you looked like.

"No."

You pressed your lips together.

"Don't get me wrong," he clarified with a smile, "-I hated ya once, a long time ago. But 'is? Now? It makes sense."

You asked before you could think about it, "What is 'this'?"

He just stared at you a second, something flickering through his eyes, careful and considerate. Something warm. The warmth you kept seeing now, the one you tried to avoid.

"You," he answered, vaguely, "-Us."

"What does that mean?" you asked, your confusion was ever-so-clear. This was all things you didn't understand.

He didn't say anything, as you stared out into the streets -watching some of the porch lights flicker. The night sky was still dark, so you weren't really worried about the hour.

And then, you felt calloused fingers on your chin -guiding you back to his eyes. The thoughts cleared out of your head.

"Y/N, you drive me fuckin' crazy," he laughed a little, and you felt your eyebrows furrow, "-not just in a frustratin' sorta way. You... I worry about ya like crazy, I think of ya like crazy... I care 'bout ya like crazy-"

Your heart skipped a beat.

"-an' I... I love ya like crazy."

Your lips felt stitched shut, as he just smiled at you -something in his eyes that you could see now. You could identify.

"Ya poke and prod at me until I'm reelin', yeah, but-" he pressed his lips together, eyes shimmering across your face, "-I wouldn't 'ave it any other fuckin' way. An' I mean 'at. I just... I'm not me without ya annoyin' the shit out of me. Without ya callin' me out on my shit."

You laughed, something burning the backs of your eyes, "I am the only one who would do that, huh?"

"Ya are," he grinned at you, and you felt something in your chest squeeze tight.

It felt clear then, abundantly clear.

"I love you too, Grimes."

He grinned, the big kind that crinkled at the eyes, "Thought so."

You rolled your eyes, with no bite, "Oh shut up, sheriff. I could still kick your ass, and you would deserve it."

He laughed, the genuine kind -hand coming to cradle your cheek, "Still, don't doubt it, sweetheart."

You smiled, and noticed just how close the two of you were. He only seemed to be roaming closer, and it made your heartbeat pick up in your chest a little. Before you could stop it, your eyes dipped down to his lips.

He grinned again, the kind that rattle down to your core, all handsome and shiny white teeth. And then, he started moving closer, his own eyes dipping to your lips.

"Ya kno', I can think of a way to get me to shut up."

"Can you?" you teased, quiet between the two of you.

He just hummed, distracted. It made something in your stomach stir.

"I am pretty desperate for you to," you remarked -playfully.

Rick busted into laughter, a loud kind that you barely ever heard from him. It made something in your chest shimmer, proud. You kind of wanted to hear that forever. And now, maybe you could.

The thought made you grin, as you leaned forward, impatiently, and connected your lips to his. It was just a press of lips, but you did feel him lean into it. Before you could get far, he laughed even more, breaking off the kiss, and it made you laugh.

"'Course ya can't wait for one second," he chuckled -playfully, "-You've always been so damn impatient."

"Oh, fuck you, Grimes," you laughed into the night, "-You're lucky I don't-"

And this time, he shut you up.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Okay so like as I’m writing this, tomorrow is my birthday (I’m gonna be 19 😭) and I was wondering if I could get some birthday headcanons with the legion of horribles (poly but platonic) + (separately) zsasz?🥺

You don’t have to finish this on my birthday so I understand if it will take time but if you can do it that would be wonderful! Don’t feel pressured though!

Thank you so much Cupid!^^🫂

'400 LUX,

-GOTHAM!VILLIANS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Oswald Cobblepot, Jerome Valeska, Bridgit Pike, Jervis Tetch, Jonathan Crane, Victor Fries, Victor Zsasz

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Birthday HCs with the Legion of Horribles! (+ romantic zsasz)

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. PURE FLUFF! They adore reader so so so much! Reader turning 19 :> Age gap for Zsasz! All seven of these idiots. Good luck reader, you will need it!! Suggestive parts in Zsasz's. Reader probably drinking too much tea to be healthy. Also sorry I'm a little late with this, hectic week but happy late bday adal <3 love ya!

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “We're never done with killing time, can I kill it with you?” 400 Lux by Lorde

Number one spoiler!

No seriously, good luck. You are basically Martin #2. He's buying the most extravagant gifts, and hosting the birthday party. He's getting mad at Jervis and Jerome (anyone who can't keep there mouth shut for the surprise.)

Hectically organizing this whole mess. To his best ability. Eventually he gives up under the stress and you'll notice. Just have a little sit down with him, and he'll HAPPILY celebrate your birthday far away from everyone else.

Once you two have a minute alone, he's making you his mothers tea, telling you all about his birthdays and how she used to celebrate them with him. He really just wants to make this the best day for you possible.

Have a small little laugh with him on the couch, look at baby pictures of him around the mansion, watch him get red in the face and scowl just a teeny tiny bit.

He'll also scroll through your phone (he's horrible with technology) and look at your baby pictures too. You two end up having a good laugh and a semi-serious talk about childhood memories <3

He'll end up giving you his most personal gift when you two are alone, away from the "cretins outside" in his words.

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝛰𝑀𝐸 𝑉𝐴𝐿𝐸𝑆𝐾𝐴

♫ “We might be hollow but we're brave.” 400 Lux by Lorde

The only time he's 100 percent serious is when he's busy with the sheer EFFORT he's putting into this celebration.

Him and Oswald have conflicting ideas. Oswald wants something extravagant, royal, fit for you, like a coming of age. Jerome still wants to throw you a ball, but more like a child's dream chucky-cheese type birthday.

What do you mean he can't get a bunch of arcade machines and a ball pit delivered to the mansion? He's pouting.

He'll be DAMNED if he doesn't book the entertainment and a GIANT cake, though.

Will get Jervis to hypnotize some poor sap to dance for you. You know, if you're into that. Might kill him too if you're a little evil like him. If you aren't into that, he'll let him live. That's your gift :>

Did i say a GIANT cake? Yeah. It's massive. FUCKING MASSIVE. He probably ends up eating more of it then you guys, to be honest.

Makes sure it's your favorite flavor too.

Makes everyone sit down when it's time for cake and candles, if anyone tries to get up he's screaming at the top of his lungs.

Remember that "USE THE TONGS, CARL!" Yeah, he's channeling that energy to the hypnotized people cutting the cake and setting the table.

Fully looks at you like a successor (and like, his only real friend) so he's a bit pushy for this to go well. Not as much as Oswald, but still set on making this a good day for you. He just isn't as overt.

𝐵𝑅𝐼𝐷𝐺𝐼𝑇 𝑃𝐼𝐾𝐸

♫ “And the heating comes on.” 400 Lux by Lorde

Poor baby has never seen, attended, or had a birthday party in her life. It's new for her, it's intriguing. She loves this little strange family you guys have created.

You are LITERALLY her little sister, the only sibling she truly sees as her own!

It's obligatory for her to light the birthday candles (and almost burn the mansion down, chaos ensues)

Similar to Oswald, she gives you one intimate gift. Something she knows you'll love, something personal. You're favorite flowers, gems, or even a nod to an inside joke.

Arguing with Victor (Fries) about who has the better gift and who you like more.

When the day is nearing it's end, she volunteers to clean up to have some time alone with you. Everyone else is winding down, but you and her will get to talk like two best friends.

It's the only time she feels like a normal teenage girl. Just gossiping with you while putting Jerome's confetti in trash bags.

You'll probably have a little slumber party with her in the living room, eating left-over snacks and watching TV, throwing popcorn at each other. Speaking of popcorn....

"Hey, watch this!" She's nudging you, getting you to watch her make her own popcorn kernels with her flamethrower, signature smile on her face :>

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝑉𝐼𝑆 𝑇𝐸𝑇𝐶𝐻

♫ “You drape your wrists over the steering wheel.” 400 Lux by Lorde

He was fighting tooth and nail for this to be a tea party. Still upset it's not. Ended up still hypnotizing someone to make tea for you all. Ah, Small victories.

Also? We saw him in that chauffer outfit. He will gladly be the designated driver.

Similar to the rest of them, he wants some time alone with you. So, he's hypnotizing a limo and pulling up and practically stealing you away.

Takes you on a little shopping spree. Anywhere you want to go, he'll take you there! Even if he doesn't particularly enjoy it. (cough cough, convince stores, cough cough)

Wants to take you to the tea shoppes and bakeries.

He is LITERALLY the most BUSY bee out of EVERYONE. Everyone is so obsessed with planning and whatnot, but he actually has to do EVERYTHING by himself.

Whose hypnotizing the cake maker, the gifts, the decorations, the people, the waiters? Ah, the list goes on and on. He's a bit tuckered out by the time you too are done shopping and he's off his list of errands.

Have a cup of tea with him after <3 he will be infinitely grateful to wind down with you if you find the time during the day.

Sings happy birthday obnoxiously loud for you. He also insists everyone has perfect table manners and etiquette. (Looking at you, Jerome.)

𝐽𝛰𝑁𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑁 𝐶𝑅𝐴𝑁𝐸

♫ “I can tell that you're tired.” 400 Lux by Lorde

Silent, for the most part. Will refuse to sing happy birthday, and will truly only participate if it's the two of you alone. He...doesn't work well in groups.

He's getting a slap on the wrist from everyone because of it.

He'd MUCH rather steal you away periodically through the day, to just talk to you about your childhood. Congratulate you. He's happy for you, but he's a little scared you're getting older.

Very protective. Always. No matter what.

You might hear him laugh a bit, joke around with you, just simply checking the surroundings and chaos from Jerome.

If you are someone who prefers things more lowkey, you'll find yourself spending the majority of the day with Jonathan. Eventually you two will just pass by each other every now and then, and share a brief respite from the bustling outside.

You are TRULY his best friend. He wants to make this day as good for you as everyone else does. He just doesn't know where to start.

He'll probably end up giving you your favorite gift out of EVERYONE.

Doesn't matter what it is. He'll know. It will be intimate, genuine, and a very heartfelt message on the bottom of a card attached.

"Love you, Y/N." -Jonathan

Okay, not SUPER heartfelt at first look, but for him? It's as close as you'll get to him being vulnerable.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑆

♫ “We're getting good at this.” 400 Lux by Lorde

Jerome puts him on ice-cream duty and he's reasonably grumpy.

No, but genuinely, this is a VERY special day for him. He's a VERY proud dad!

Always wanted to have kids with Nora. Never got a chance. You really are his second chance at happiness, and he loves you so much. He gets to live out everything he thought he'd never be able too.

Wants to get more involved, but gets a little pushed out between Jerome and Oz.

Jerome probably makes him make ice sculptures. Or Ozzie asks him to freeze the body of your enemies. Perfect gift!

Similar to Jonathan, likes to keep things more lowkey. He'll sneak in a pseudo father daughter bonding moment, even if you don't know.

"So, uh, you're staying out trouble, right?"

He's asking, nudging you when you two finally get a moment alone. His voice comes out in a mumble, obviously not very experienced in this role of being a father. But he can't help it.

Overprotective dad scowling at Zsasz, you know, to get the point across. Zsasz staring riiiiiiight back.

"Just so you know...if you break her heart, I'm freezing yours." Victor #1 says, with a clicking sound, and a raise of his gun.

Victor #2 raises a non-existent eyebrow, and lifts his own gun in return. "Of course..." He drawls. The idle threats are there.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “You pick me up and take me home again / We're hollow like the bottles that we drain.” 400 Lux by Lorde

He's a loving boyfriend, you just have to get through his layers throughout the day!

Of course, he's your ride to and from the mansion. Driving with him, his hand on your thigh, disco music. Waking you up with kisses and birthday sex

He's grumbling just a bit everyone else wants to steal you away. Que him being a sassy boyfriend, rolling his eyes.

He ends up just standing around the mansion most of the day, sneaking bites of pastries or making idle conversation with the terrified waiters, while you are out with Jervis. He doesn't mind. It's your day. He is more then happy, this is his element. A whole day dedicated to his girl, and free food? Sign him up.

In contrast to everyone, he's the only person to give you a gag gift. Surprisingly, Jerome takes this too seriously to give you one. Victor doesn't, though. He'll give you a whole bunch of small gag gifts, just to see that beautiful smile on your face.

He'll end up getting you a real gift though. Something precious, gorgeous, elegant. Something absolutely killer. Black onyx necklace? Yes. You'll feel the leather of his gloves on your neck while he puts it on you.

Doesn't care if ANYONE looks at the two of you weirdly for the age gap. In fact, he'll become even MORE affectionate. Y'know, just to piss people off.

Speaking of age, he doesn't care you aren't 21 just yet. He's 100% sneaking the two of you some alcohol to drink. (Not without teasing you, of course, for being a downright horrible criminal!)

Oswald, Victor Fries, and Jervis don't appreciate you drinking. They are too protective. But Zsasz doesn't gaf what they say :>

[carlsangel]

LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU (PART ONE)

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl have an argument and he makes it up to you.)

tags: SMUT!!! p in v, RIDINGGGGG BABYYYY, unprotected sex (be safe!)

masterlist here!

read part two!

i wrote this so i could get motivated to write again, it’s the first fic i’ve written that wasn’t requested in a long ass time, so this one’s just an idea from me and a fic for myself i hope u like!!!

Carl was always telling you that you needed to be safe outside the walls. He always told you if you were to go on a run, the only people you should go with was Daryl or Glenn. So, when he told you he couldn’t go on a woods date because he’d be going out for supplies with the two of them, you wanted to go with. But he still refused.

“I don’t understand, I thought you said it was fine if Glenn and Daryl took me, you said they’re the most reliable. We were supposed to go to the woods anyway…” You reason, following him through the house as he gathered his belongings. “We can go on the date tomorrow, anyway this time’s different. We’re going to the store on Miller street, the last time the guys went, it was filled with walkers.” He makes his way out of your guys’ room and down the hall. “Well why’re you going then? I don’t want you to.”

He stops just before the stairs and he sighs, turning around to look at you intently. “It’s just how it is, okay? I don’t want to have to worry about you out there, and you definitely don’t have to worry about me.” He explains. You’re sort of annoyed at the fact he thinks he has to take care of you. He continues down the steps and you follow after. “You don’t have to worry about me, I don’t understand. You’re being quite the hypocrite.” You refute. He shakes his head and grabs his bag before heading towards the door.

“Seriously Carl, what the fuck?” He places his hand on the handle and turns to you. “I’ll see you at eight.” He opens the door and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

You stayed home the whole day, quite pissed to say the least. You babysat Judith, which didn’t bother you at all but you’d rather have gone with him. You felt worried, not to mention left out. By the time they came home, you were sitting on the floor in the living room with Judith, playing with her toys. “Here, bug, this one has jingles.” You shake the toy in front of her and she yawns, grabbing it but dropping it. You hear the front door open and you see Carl and Daryl walking through the door. AKA your signal to get Judith up to bed.

You stand up and pull Judith up as well, letting her stand on your feet as you take slow steps towards the stairs. They both acknowledge you and Carl’s the first to say something. “Hey, how was babysitting?” He asks, noticing how focused you are on keeping Judith on your feet. “It was fun. We gotta go to bed, don’t we Judith?” You reply dismissively, Daryl and Carl share a knowing look while you head up the stairs.

You get Judith changed and in her crib, you exit and closer her door quietly before turning to be met with Carl just standing there. “Oh sh-” You put your hand over your heart and he sort of giggles at you. “Jesus christ make a noise or something.” You roll your eyes and walk down the hall and he follows after. “I’m alive, see? The run was a breeze.”

He tries his best to make you realize you were wrong about not wanting him to go out. “Yeah no shit, I see that but that doesn’t make the whole situation any less frustrating.” You retort. He closes the door behind you guys and you sit on the bed, kicking your boots off your feet and he does the same. “I was left here alone, not to mention you ditched our date.” You stand up to start changing and he watches you from the bed. “I know, and I’m sorry I just- It seemed like the best way for me to get practice with knives. I’m still not the best since…my eye.” He replies quietly. You turn from the dresser to look at him.

Well you just feel bad now. “Shit I just feel sort of selfish…I’m sorry.” You sort of sympathize with him and walk over to run your hand through his hair. “Don’t worry. I get it, probably more than anyone.” He holds the sides of your thighs, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over them as he looks up at you. “But, if you wanna make it up to me, and if you’d let me make it up to you…I can think of somethin we could do.”

Within the next couple minutes you’re both stripped of your clothes, Carl is sitting back against the pillows while you’re on his lap. He has your tit in his mouth, his eyes shut, just enjoying the feeling of your nipple against his tongue. He moans against your skin and your hand goes up to tug on his hair a bit. He pulls away from your chest to look up at you breathlessly. “Please I need to feel you.”

You smile and adjust your position on his lap, slowly sinking onto his dick. The both of you moan at the feeling, he leans his head against your chest as he feels your heat surround him. His hands go to your hips, yours go to his shoulders to steady yourself. He guides your hips back and forth, only making the pace quicker. “Oh fuck you drive me insane.” He mumbles into your chest, his eyes half lidded and his grip on your hips getting tighter.

You can feel him start to buck his hips upwards, pushing his dick farther into you. You lean on him a bit, resting your weight on your knees as you straddle him, allowing him to thrust up even more. He rests his hands on your waist and looks up at you, watching as your eyes roll back into your head at the pleasure. He slows a bit and you pull away to lean back on your hands, his cock still penetrating you while you steady yourself. This put your body on display, he could see everything.

You start to move yourself back and forth, practically fucking yourself on him. Carl’s eyes go wide at the way you grind on him, he could cum from the sight alone. And he almost did. “Fuck- m’gonna-” He said shakily. You’re breathing heavy, the feeling leaves you unable to speak and Carl leans forward to rub your clit with his thumb. That basically sends you over the edge and you cum, moaning quite loudly. The feeling of you clenching around him added on top of your moans causes Carl’s orgasm to follow shortly after.

A couple of minutes went by and you were cuddled together in bed, he’d cleaned you up and pulled your clothes back on for you. You loved aftercare with him, he was always the sweetest. The two of you soon fell asleep in the comfort of each other’s arms.

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

The next morning, you had perimeter watch so Carl woke up early to make you breakfast. Or try at least, he made you eggs and selected some fruit for you to eat before leaving. He sat and talked with you, making you laugh before leaving for work. You did a ton of different jobs at Alexandria, perimeter watch was your least favorite. You’d even faked having a bad headache one time to get out of it.

So, you stood there watching carefully when you hear a voice from the bottom of the post. It was Glenn. You peak your head over. “Can I come up?” He asks. “Yeah go for it.” You step back and continue to watch around the gates while you waited for him to climb up. Once he did, he looked at you and sort of laughed awkwardly. He was being weird but he’s always sort of like that so you didn’t pay any mind to it. “Did you need something?” Your focus is still on the scenery in front of you as you speak.

“Uhh…yeah there was sort of something I need to tell you about the run yesterday.” He was nervous and it was evident with his tone. You turn to him, your eyebrows furrowing a tad. “Okay..explain.” He nods and swallows hard. “Just- don’t get angry okay? I mean I’m not really meant to be saying anything but I feel horrible to keep it from you and-”

“Oh my god please just spit it out.” You cut him off. “Right. Yesterday Carl had a close call with a walker, it basically tackled him and was really close to just-” He stops for a moment but continues. “It almost bit his face off. Daryl saved him last second when I’d got close enough to hear their conversation…I guess they didn’t see me, they made an agreement to keep it from you. Not to tell you about it.” He explained, somewhat ashamed.

You stop to think. You felt shitty about it all, for sure. He’d gotten pissy at you about wanting to go, made you feel bad for not wanting him to go, and used the excuse of his eye. He told you it all went well. He lied to your face, then fucked you after.

a/n: part two is coming soon :)

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @evilnight07 @ilikestrawberriesandwomen

[enidette]

NICE FOR A SAVIOR carl grimes x male!reader

warnings — reader is negan’s adopted son, this is literally shit because i couldn’t come up with anything for this request i’m sorry </3

carl first noticed you at the lineup. someone his age, looking disgusted and terrified at the acts your gracious leader was doing. he saw the panic in your eyes with every strike, using his curiosity towards you to distract him from the traumatizing events unfolding right before him.

the ptsd from it all, as much as he’d like to deny it, had him forgetting about you. but that day he popped a cap in a few saviors’ asses he saw you again, following negan around. you always walked in silence, your father’s words going through one ear out the other. your focus was more on carl.

“i can’t, i can’t do it.” your dad laughs, “it’s like talking to a birthday present. you gotta take that crap off your face, i wanna see what grandma got me!”

you roll your eyes at his immaturity, giving carl a pitied look. but he’s not even looking at you, his eye glaring at your dad instead. “no.”

“two men!”

“dad,” you give him a dirty look, causing negan to run a hand down his face. carl grimaces at the revelation that you have to deal with negan as your father.

“two men.” his voice gets lower, “punishment. do you really wanna piss me off?”

you sigh, “just do it.” carl’s head turns to you, squinting his eye at you. you mouth a ‘sorry’ at him, causing him to swallow thickly and sigh. he sets his hat on the table in front of him and reaches behind his head to unwrap the bandages.

you lean back in your seat and look out of the window to respect him, hearing your father go off on him. you stand up quickly, surprising both of them. “i’m gonna take him back, i’ll check on what they have going on while i’m at it.”

you walk over to carl and negan sends you both his weird, sinister smile. “you sure? i think our new friend here would really like to see the iron. i mean, that guy’s eye is gonna be seriously fucked. way worse than his.”

you give your dad a fake smile and motion carl to follow you out of the room. he brushes his hair back in front of his face and places his hat over his head to keep it in place. you both walk in silence for a bit, carl only breaking it when you both get in the truck.

“he’ll just… let you go?” his face is turned up in either confusion or disgust, you couldn’t tell. but you wouldn’t blame him if it were either one.

you nod, “i’m his son, he wants me to be all independent and shit.” you motion your head towards him, “probably why he takes such a liking to you. you’re what he wants me to be.” carl doesn’t say anything for a moment. you notice he does a lot of that.

“do you like it here?” he blurts. now it’s your turn to be quiet. you don’t know how to answer that question. it’s shelter, it’s protection, the big bad guy in charge is literally your father.

you shake your head with a laugh, “i would if my father wasn’t so bloodthirsty. he says he only does it when he has to, but like the other night, with your friends… he went too far.” carl turns his head to look out the window when you say that, “should i not have brought that up?”

“it’s fine.” is all he says, adjusting his hair again.

when the two of you enter alexandria there are certainly a few starers. “look, i’m not actually here to do anything. i just felt bad and wanted to take you home.” he fixes his hair again, pulling it so more and more covers his face. “why do you keep doing that?”

he clears his throat, “it doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

you look at him oddly, “your eye?” he nods, you could tell it affected him by the way his cold facade shattered when your dad made fun of it. you shake your head and roll your eyes, “no, why would it? i think it looks cool as hell.”

carl stops walking and turns to you fully, tilting his head and looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“why are you doing that?”

“why?” you echo, turning around as well so you’re face to face.

he squints, “you’re being too nice for a savior.”

“don’t call me that,” you snap. “i’m not like them. i’m only there because i made the mistake of trusting negan.” carl looks down for a bit in thought.

“then come stay here.”

you laugh humorlessly, “so my father can hate your people more? have another reason to destroy what you have going here?”

carl shrugs, “we can protect you.”

you give him a weird smile, running a hand through your hair. “okay, why are you being nice now?”

“at a time like this you should be, to the people who deserve it.”

you nod in agreement, beginning to walk with him again. “you know, i’m starting to like your company carl.” you kick a rock as you walk, “we just met and all, but there aren’t many people who give me a chance.”

carl shrugs like it’s nothing, “maybe i’m starting to like your company too, uh…” carl trails off when he realizes he still doesn’t know your name.

“y/n." carl nods with a smile, leading you to his house.