glennseyeball

[glennseyeball]

"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"

[glennseyeball]

i've unlocked my anakin skywalker madness and i feel bad cause i'm neglecting my commitment to daryl 💔

[glennseyeball]

an angel gained wings today (i cut my butt length hair to shoulder length)

[glennseyeball]

man how i love buying stuff online

[glennseyeball]

Messaging people for the first time is so hard. What am I supposed to say? Like, "You seem really odd and your blog intrigues me. Do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters?" What! Whatever. I will just follow you back and stare at your blog with my big beautiful brown eyes.

[glennseyeball]

You belong with me. 💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤

Letter on my site :)

[glennseyeball]

IM WET

[glennseyeball]

when she's prettier than me but i can speak 3 languages... (she still won cause she has him)

[glennseyeball]

Norman Reedus in ad for Cinépolis Argentina

[glennseyeball]

i want to be friends with my moots 💔

[glennseyeball]

[glennseyeball]

this made me laugh so hard

HI!! I was wondering if you could write this Daryl x reader fic? It's basically like how Maggie and Glenn got caught in the guard tower in season 3 but it'll be Daryl and the reader getting caught in the infirmary of the prison. The others were looking for them so they could go on a run or something and Daryl peeks out the door wearing his vest without a shirt and his pants are unbuckled while the reader is frantically trying to get dressed in the background. IF THAT MAKES SENSE. (it's my first time writing a request so sorry if it doesn't make sense 😭 Love your work btw)

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. You Coming?

⌇daryl dixon x reader

⌇summary: you and daryl sneak off to the infirmary when it’s empty for some privacy, until you get interrupted

⌇warnings: little smut in the beginning, then the rest is just fluff

⌇word count: 0.6k

a/n HII LOVELYYY :3 it made perfect sense and i LOVED THIS I LOVED WRITING THIS MWAH ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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They were supposed to be getting ready for a run. That was the plan.

But the second Daryl had seen you in that tank top, as you leaned over a map with your back arched and those little shorts riding up your thighs…well. The plan changed.

And that’s how you ended up in the infirmary, legs wrapped tight around his waist, back arching off the cot as Daryl Dixon drove himself into you slow and deep, hand over your mouth to muffle every moan you couldn’t hold back.

“Shh, baby,” he panted against your ear, hips grinding deep with each stroke, his voice low and frayed. “Don’t want ‘em hearin’ you, yeah?”

You whimpered beneath his palm, eyes fluttering shut, thighs trembling as he rolled his hips again. So slow, so heavy, filling you up over and over until you couldn’t think of anything but the feel of him inside you.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned, sweat dripping down his temple as he braced one hand beside your head, the other still gently covering your mouth. “Takin’ me so damn well sweet girl. Keep squeezin’ me like that and I ain’t gonna last.”

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails dragging down his back, and he hissed through his teeth before dipping his head to kiss your jaw, your neck, your chest, anywhere he could reach without pulling out.

The cot creaked under your bodies, the sound making you tense, and Daryl kissed your cheek softly. “It’s alright,” he whispered, rocking into you with a low grunt. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in.”

Famous last words.

Because just as his pace picked up, just as your breath hitched and you started shaking from the pressure curling deep in your belly, a voice rang out in the hallway.

“Daryl?” Glenn. “You in there, man?”

Your eyes flew wide. You shoved at his chest in panic, but he just blinked at you, stunned mid thrust like a deer caught in headlights.

“No,” he muttered, already pulling out and fumbling for his jeans. “No no no—fuck—goddamn it.”

You scrambled to sit up, your legs still shaking, your shirt halfway on and your underwear nowhere in sight. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” You keep repeating.

Daryl yanked on his pants, not even bothering to button them, and grabbed his vest. “Shit. Where are yer horts?”

“How the fuck should I know?!”

Outside, Rick knocked. “You alright in there?”

“Fine!” Daryl shouted, voice way too hoarse to sound convincing. “Jus’… gettin’ medical stuff!”

You dove behind the counter, breathless, hair wild, and glared up at him. “You better sell this.”

He turned toward the door, running a hand through his messy hair as he cracked it open a few inches. His vest hung open over his bare chest, pants unbuttoned, belt loose. He looked a mess.

Rick blinked.

So did Glenn.

Maggie actually coughed.

“Uh,” Daryl grunted. “Y’all need somethin’?”

Glenn gestured. “We’re headin’ out. Thought you were comin’.”

Maggie tilted her head. “Where’s your shirt?”

Daryl shrugged. “It’s hot.”

Rick raised an eyebrow. “You alone in there?”

Behind him, something clattered…you, knocking over a tray in your blind panic. “Shitshitshit—”

Maggie leaned around the doorway, peeking past Daryl’s shoulder. “Is that—?”

“Bye,” Daryl said, slamming the door.

Silence. And then, from inside, your tiny voice,

“…they know.”

Daryl rubbed his face and groaned. “Shit.”

You peeked up from behind the counter, cheeks burning. “We’re never gonna live this down.”

He chuckled, still panting a little, and walked over to crouch beside you. “Wanna finish what we started?”

You swatted his arm. “Daryl!”

He grinned, eyes dark and lazy. “Ain’t like we got any dignity left to lose.”

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[glennseyeball]

hear me out... young!daryl based on seven by taylor swift...

[glennseyeball]

cocky rick x girly reader who literally just eats it up? likeeeeee yes he’s aware that she watches him all the time and is like amazed by anything he does cuz he just looks damn good doing it and god forbid a girl indulge? he knows he’s the shit and she doesn’t mind letting him knowwww (little does she know he feels the same way abt her🥹)

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Sheriff

⌇rick grimes x girly!reader

⌇summary: you watch rick like it’s your full time job, he doesn’t mind at all

⌇warnings: suggestive…

⌇word count: 1.9k

a/n SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY HERE I COME RICK (i hope this is what you had in mind anon i loved writing this!!)

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Rick Grimes had no right looking THAT good elbow deep in a vegetable patch.

It was a perfect Alexandria afternoon, not because of the blue sky or the cicadas hummin. No, it was the sun beating down just enough to get a little sweat going on him. And there he was, kneeling in the dirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms flexing as he pressed tomato plants into the soil. His curls were damp, clinging to his forehead, and every now and then, he’d stop to swipe at the sweat with the back of his hand, mouth set in that same serious line like this was the most important thing in the world.

And you?

You were perched right there on your porch swing, sundress flowing, legs crossed pretty, unapologetically staring.

Because God forbid a girl indulge.

He knew it too. Every so often, he’d shift just so, leaning into the stretch, rolling his broad shoulders back, giving you the perfect view. Like he was saying, Go on. Take a good look.

And oh, you were.

Truth be told, this wasn’t the first time he’d done it.

Your mind wandered, unprompted, to all the other times Rick had caught you lookin’.

Like last week, when he’d been fixing the gate, shirt riding up just enough to show off that stupid, unfair slice of toned stomach. You’d passed by, innocent as could be, and offered him a sweet little “Need any help Sheriff?”

And he’d smirked, leaned back with his arms crossed, blatantly flexing. “You know how to handle a wrench darlin’?”

Didn’t even give you a chance to answer before adding, “Course you do. Got a feelin’ you’re real good with your hands.”

You’d damn near combusted.

Or two days ago, when he’d caught you eyeing his holster as he geared up for patrol. You weren’t even trying to be subtle. Something about the way that leather hugged his hips had your brain absolutely useless.

Rick had noticed. Oh, he’d noticed.

“Careful now,” he’d drawled, leaning in just enough to make your heart stutter, “keep lookin’ at me like that, you’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

And you, shameless, had batted your lashes right back.

“Maybe I like trouble.”

The grin he’d given you? Smug. Cocky..

So now, watching him play house with his precious tomatoes, it was no surprise that he was well aware of your attention.

“You appear to be observing Rick with what I’d categorize as unrestrained admiration.”

The sudden voice nearly made you jump out of your skin.

“Jesus Eugene!” you laughed, hand to your chest. “Where’d you come from?”

“I was merely conducting perimeter checks for wildlife breaches,” he said, shifting awkwardly on his feet, oblivious to how loud he was. “However, it would seem your surveillance efforts are of a more… hormonal variety.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what now?”

“You’re staring,” he clarified. “Quite blatantly, I might add. To what do you attribute this persistent fascination? Is it his facial symmetry? His leadership qualities? Or perhaps the primitive appeal of physical labor?”

You stared at him, mouth twitching.

“Eugene,” you said sweetly, “just look at him.”

Eugene squinted. “While I acknowledge his practical skillset, I fail to perceive the aesthetic allure. But then again, I am not a female, nor am I predisposed to such reactions.”

You couldn’t help it. The laugh bubbled up before you could stop it.

“You ever heard that saying?” you grinned, eyes sparkling. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy?”

Eugene looked genuinely perplexed. “I am unfamiliar with that idiom. Is this a transportation alternative or a sexual innuendo?”

You nearly wheezed.

But just as you doubled over in laughter, hand over your mouth, you caught it, a shadow shifting, a certain weight of a gaze. Slowly, you glanced sideways.

And there he was.

Rick, standing, one hand on his hip, the other dragging sweat from his brow. His lips quirked, just a little, catching you red handed.

Your laugh died immediately.

“Oh—hi Rick.” You cleared your throat, sitting up straight, suddenly very interested in adjusting the hem of your dress. “Nice… dirt. Looks good.”

Smooth. So smooth.

Rick didn’t say anything, but the way his lips twitched said plenty. He went back to work without missing a beat, smug as anything.

Eugene, blissfully unaware of your humiliation, just nodded. “I shall leave you to your continued voyeurism,” he announced, and shuffled off toward the gate.

You sank back against the swing with a groan.

A few hours passed.

You’d busied yourself with odds and ends, anything to distract from how flustered you’d gotten over a damn man planting tomatoes. But when you wandered back outside, curiosity tugging you like a string, you weren’t surprised to see him still there.

Still working.

Still looking unfairly good doing it.

Only this time, you came prepared.

You padded across the yard, water bottle in hand, sundress swishing at your knees. His back was to you, and you took a moment to appreciate the view. The broad set of his shoulders, the way his jeans hung low on his hips, dusty boots planted firm in the dirt.

“You’re gonna wear yourself out sheriff.”

His head lifted, but he didn’t turn.

“I’m fine.”

“I know you are.” You grinned, offering the water. “But even fine cowboys need a break.”

That made him turn.

He took the bottle from you, fingers grazing yours , hot, rough, deliberate. His eyes dragged down your figure, slow and lingering, before meeting your gaze again with that infuriating little smirk.

“Been watchin’ me all day, haven’t you?”

No point denying it now.

“Maybe.” You tilted your head, lip gloss catching the sunlight. “Can you blame me?”

He chuckled, low and warm, unscrewing the bottle cap.

“Ain’t complainin’.” He took a long drink, throat bobbing, making a show of it. “Just curious how long you’re gonna look before you do somethin’ ‘bout it.”

Your breath hitched.

He stepped closer, heat rolling off him, smelling like earth and sweat and soap. His free hand lifted slow, giving you every chance to stop him, and brushed a stray hair from your cheek, fingers lingering just like before.

“I don’t mind givin’ you somethin’ to look at darlin’,” he said, voice soft. “But you oughta know, I been lookin’ right back.”

You swallowed. “You have, huh?”

He hummed, tipping the bottle to you in a mock toast. “Ain’t no crime to look.”

You smiled, heart racing.

“Well then, Sheriff,” you said, stepping just a little closer, “guess we’re both guilty.”

And the way his eyes darkened, the way his jaw flexed like he was holding himself back, you knew this little game wasn’t gonna stay innocent much longer.

But for now?

For now, you let him go back to his tomatoes, smug.

And you? You sat yourself right back on that porch swing.

Watching.

Indulging.

Like the little troublemaker you were.

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[glennseyeball]

fuck being anon, if you have the balls to think you can also have them to write them, NOBODY KNOWS YOU!!!!

[glennseyeball]

i’m writing i promise

[glennseyeball]

ⓘ this user has a severe old man kink