Caryl On!
Lol! Credit in pic.

Lol! Credit in pic.


One of the things I love most about the Carylers is that you guys are all so intelligent, articulate, and well-spoken. Very smart, level-headed people who know the importance of decent grammar! Lol. Thank you all for completing seventh grade.


Coming soon to a TV screen near you!


Coming soon to a TV screen near you!


the cutest woman on the walking dead! 😍

I’m very sorry I don’t mean to be rude but I believe you misspelled ‘on the face of the planet.’  Do excuse me.


the cutest woman on the walking dead! 😍

I’m very sorry I don’t mean to be rude but I believe you misspelled ‘on the face of the planet.’

Do excuse me.


He didn’t let go. 

He held her the whole time.


I’m deaded. send help please. 






Thinking about writing some more Caryl smut, feel free to drop some prompts on me. :D

Four weeks to go!!!

My Brother’s Keeper

Here is my submission for the USS Caryl Mish Mash Challange!! YAY!!!

It has smut!! YAYY!!!!

My Brother’s Keeper

Merle Dixon had always been an observant man.

He prided himself on it. Helped him win more than a fair few fights by being able to hone in on a man’s weakness, and it helped him find his way to the bed of a willing woman more than once.

Now he watches his brother interact with a certain grey haired filly he always seemed to be in the company of. The woman who started out the apocalypse as a scared little mouse, under the foot of her asshole husband and was now the fierce wild cat who warned him not to fuck with his own brother under pain of death, and then sweetly handed him his dinner.

The sun was settling low in the sky and everyone was getting ready for dinner outside under the yellow cooking tent and on the crowded picnic tables. He watched Daryl’s shy smile when his wild cat handed him his well earned supper, the subtle drop of his head, a quiet nod of appreciation. The slight nervous jerk of his knee when she slid down to sit beside him and brushed his arm. The upward angle his eyebrow sat at when they spoke. The hint of a twinkle in his eye when he tries a joke and she laughs her tinkling laugh. How she is always the first person he asks about when he comes back from a run. How he’d do anything to try and stop her from going on a run. The way he followed her around like a lost puppy dog. He was in love. His little brother was in love for the first time. And obviously had no idea what to do about it or he’d have been after it by now. At least Merle would have been.

He’d seen Carol flirt with his brother and it usually just flustered him. After all the years he spent trying to make a man of him. If it had been Merle she was flirting with they’d have been bumping uglies that night. He thought about having sex with her more often than he should. Much more often. There were other available women at the prison, but there was something special about his brother’s crush. She had a way about her from her fluid, graceful movements to her calm and caring demeanor. She had a rational, no nonsense approach to problems and a light hearted laugh at the end of a good day, and a tired, weary smile to share at the end of a bad one. Her eyes glinted a stunning, timeless blue and her skin looked so silky and creamy sometimes his hands twitched to touch it. And she wasn’t just a beauty; she was a bad ass, fearless in the face of walkers. Watching her take them down almost turned him on. He’d seen her flirt, and by the sway of her hips and the slight darkening of her eyes he thought his brother aught to have taken her seemingly jesting invitations more seriously. He thought about leaving a note for her in her cell, saying “I want to be alone with you. Meet me in the library at midnight”, sign it Daryl.

It was dark in the library, and he was about as tall as his brother, about as big. He wondered how far he could get before she realized he wasn’t Daryl. Just the thought about finally getting to touch that silky smooth skin, to feel the warmth of her body against his aroused him. He could make it kinky by quietly imitating his brother’s voice as best he could, ask her to turn around as he approached, so she wouldn’t get too good of a look. He’d start with a simple slow caress of her shoulder, a gentle hand on her hip, rubbing slowly over her clothes. Leaning in close so his chest lightly touched her back, he’d whisper in her ear how beautiful she was, his warm breath easing over her exposed neck and his lips grazing the shell of her ear. His hand would travel upward from her hip to cup her pert breast. She’d gasp when he ran a thumb across her covered nipple, and his mouth would sink onto her neck, hot and wet, drawing another moan from her as he squeezed tighter. He’d pull off her shirt and bra and cast them aside, reveling in her loveliness. Softly he’d continue his attention on her breasts, smoothing his calloused hand over her mounds and occasionally flicking a nipple lightly, or rolling it mildly between his fingers, each time eliciting a sound from Carol that set his blood on fire and made him want to give her more. He’d slide his hand down into her pants and work her until she screamed. He wondered if he was able to get his head buried between her legs, would she even care who he was, as long as he was licking her half insane?

But he knew it’d never work. She’d be wondering why he was only touching her with one hand. That and he didn’t want to betray his brother. But Carol was a beautiful woman, and it’d be a crying shame to let her go unfulfilled just because the other Dixon was too damn shy.

So he wrote a note and signed it Daryl.

With all the good old fashioned Southern charm he could muster, he asked Mrs. McLeod to ask Daryl to meet Carol in the library after he’s finished with watch. She shot him a suspicious look, but nodded yes anyway. Merle knew if it came from him he’d know instantly that something was up.

He walked away, chucking his chuckle to himself, and thinking about what a lucky bastard his brother was.

Later that night, a very curious younger Dixon brother strolled down to the library to see what Carol might want.

He opened the door to find her sitting at a table with her legs crossed over a chair, reading a book. When she looked up, there was a distinct sparkle in her eye.

“Hey.” Daryl said softly, nodding hello. What she said next sent shocks of electricity up his limbs and robbed the breath from his lungs.

She smiled coyly, but spoke slowly, so every word could sink in. “Am I really the sun of your days?”

Stunned, he took a moment to process this, staring at her. Then in a low, hard voice he replied resolutely, “Yes.”

With that Carol rose from the table and sauntered over to him in such a way that made Daryl’s mouth go dry and his joints feel weak.

“I’m the moon of your nights?” She asked, her voice a silky whisper in the low lantern light.

Again his stoic, solid reply resonated from his lips, “Yes.”

He couldn’t fathom how she could know this, or what exactly was happening right now.

She walked towards him slowly until they were inches apart. Daryl could feel his heart bang in his chest, his breaths coming more rapidly than he would like. The sweet, tantalizing smell of her wafted under his nose at their proximity and everything seemed to relax and ignite in him at once. “Carol”, he spoke her name with a sacred reverence as she lifted her arms around his neck to draw him closer and he could almost hear a crack.

The dam bursting. The one he build to hold back his feelings for her, to hold back his love, to hold back his lust. Because he thought he wasn’t good enough, because he thought she deserved better. Because even though he had come far, there was still a part of him deep, deep down that was terrified of her rejection. But here she was, warm and open in front of him. They were alone. The whole of the prison was probably fast asleep at this hour.

He gingerly put his arms around her body and bent his head towards hers, his lips just grazing hers with a feathers touch. And instead of backing away, she gasped lightly at the contact. He looked in her eyes. They were a blazing blue, full of raw emotion. Full of what looked so much like love.

Slowly his lips descended onto hers, claiming them as his own. His hands pressed into her back and sides as he kissed her with increasing enthusiasm. Her lips were pillow soft; he’d never felt anything so supple. He wondered what the rest of her felt like. Something in him dared to, and his lips began to travel from hers, to her cheek, to her jaw, and down her neck, kissing gently at first and then with mounting pressure, eliciting a moan. The sound of her voice and the taste of her on his lips was driving him mad. She had one hand buried in his hair, her fingers pointed on his scalp, moving her body against him, pressing for more. He moved a hand to her hip, and using his thumb, edged up the material of her tank top and gently brushed her skin just above her pants.

She whined and he returned his mouth to her, kissing deeply. She broke from him to yank her tank off and threw it behind her, it landed on the table. She returned to him, and he slid his hands down her arms, taking her in in awe. Like his own body, her’s was scarred, but still exquisite. He removed his own shirt so she could see that he was the same. Carol admired his muscular chest, tenderly traced his scars with her fingertips. Daryl bent his head to kiss hers. He kissed a scar on her shoulder, one on her arm, one on her ribcage just below her breast and she moaned softly at the intimacy, his warm lips imparting new love on old hurts.

Without warning he lifted her and carried her over to an old comfy couch in the middle of the library. She giggled as he set her on it and sat next to her, his fingers struggling to work the clasp on her bra, kissing a scar on her chest. Finally he popped it off and cast it away impatiently, lavishing attention on her breasts with careful hands and a soft tongue. Carol had to bite her lip to stop from calling out when she felt his tongue flick over one of her nipples while he rolled the other between his fingers. He took one into his mouth and Carol felt the heat pooling in her core intensify.

Her hands fumbled at his belt, but he stopped her. “Not yet, sweetheart, not yet.” He knew he could come in a second if she started touching him there, and he wanted this to last. He wanted her to come first. He reached between them and popped the button of her jeans open and she slid them down off her legs. He took a few moments to stroke her stomach before going lower and caressing her thighs, then his fingers teased her at the top of her low cut panties, pulling lower.

Shivering at his touch, Carol moved her legs apart so he’d have better access. He sunk his hand below the thin fabric and grazed the curls he found there softly with his knuckles, making her whimper.

All the little sounds of pleasure she made, the quirk of her body as he touched her made his cock painfully hard in his jeans. He traced the folds of her labia, teasing her with his fingers until he discovered a little nub that made her jolt and cry out. Her building wetness helped his fingers slide over her as he teased her clit, alternately circling her entrance with his index or rubbing her clit with his thumb. It was getting nearly impossible for Carol to keep quiet; moans escaped her lips as she felt the fantastic pressure building in her, wanting to explode. He worked her faster, carefully inserting one, then two fingers into her while his thumb circled her swollen bud and his mouth sucked hungrily at the nape of her neck. She came suddenly, her hand over her mouth to muffle the scream, her body jerking violently against him, a smug grin of satisfaction on Daryl’s face.

He bought his fingers to his mouth and tasted. He wanted more. He pulled her panties off and told her to lie back on the couch. He kissed a scar on her inner knee, kissed a strechmark on her stomach. He gently eased her legs apart and settled between them, kissing a scar on her inner thigh, stroking her legs while Carol trembled.

“Daryl…no ones ever…Ed never..”

But she couldn’t finish her thought because Daryl was kissing her soft curls, licking her folds languidly, inhaling her in, tasting all of her. She shuddered beneath him, incoherent. No one had ever made her feel a pleasure so intense that it blurred the edges of her vision and robbed her of the capacity to adequately form words. He continued delving into her, licking deep, his tongue grazing her clit. Carol snaked her hands though his hair, trembling at his attentions. When he took her pearl his lips and started to suck, she screamed and spasmed against him, a powerful orgasm rocked though her so intense she almost couldn’t remember her name.

Daryl didn’t know when to stop so he didn’t. He brought her to peak and kept going. He liked it there, between her legs. He loved the taste of her like honey. He loved all the noises of pleasure she made.

He didn’t stop until Carol yanked him up, her eyes blue fire, “Daryl. Please. Fuck me.” Finally her hands undid his belt buckle; he pushed his jeans off and freed himself. He didn’t wear any underwear.

He felt a prickle of trepidation. He liked making her lose control. He hoped he could stay in control of himself and not disappoint her.

He took her face in his hand and kissed her lovingly, on her lips, on her forehead, on the tip of her nose.

He settled himself between her legs and brushed the tip of himself against her flooded opening. He looked at her and she nodded yes. He kissed her once more before pushing inside. He groaned at the feel of her, so damn hot and slick. He moved slowly to let her adjust to his sizable length. Once they found their rhythm it didn’t take long before they both fell over the edge, Carol’s inner muscles fluttering and squeezing around him. Daryl held her hips hard against his as they came, then fell over her, panting, boneless, and exhausted. He kissed her again.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms and stayed that way on the couch all night.

The following morning the new pair walked down to breakfast hand in hand, drawing some applause from their fellow inmates.

Glenn and Merle watched them from above in a near by walk way.

“I can’t believe that worked.”

“Musta been some magic in that note we wrote, son.” He chuckled and slapped Glenn on the back. They’d been on even ground since Merle risked his life to save Maggie once on a dangerous run. Later, after they became friends, they both decided that Daryl and Carol needed a little push, and had conspired on this occasion to get things going.

“Well buddy, it looks like Operation It’s About Damn Time has been a success.”

Merle smiled down to his younger brother and yelled, “You hold on to that one, boy. She’s a keeper.”