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janiehellion · 22 days ago

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A Taste Of Sin

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You were younger than him, tempting—wearing nothing but a sundress in the heat of a warm summer breeze. And Rick Grimes never planned on giving in, but you—you were the taste of sin he couldn’t ignore.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: RICK GRIMES X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / CHEATING / AGE GAP / INFIDELITY / SEMI-PUBLIC SEX / BLOWJOB / CUMPLAY / DUB-CON ELEMENTS / MANIPULATION / LANGUAGE

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10.201

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: S02E06—SECRETS

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You've had your eyes on Rick Grimes, not that it was anything new. Since Atlanta, really. You couldn't help but stare, even though you knew you shouldn't.

Maybe you did because the world was falling apart, and Rick was still trying to hold it all together right from the start. But then again, maybe it was just the way he wore that sheriff's hat when there was no law anymore, the way his eyes caught yours when you least expected it, and the way it made your heart race.

So when you saw him now, talking to Shane and Lori in the distance, you couldn't help but keep your gaze completely on him, your thoughts wandering to places they probably shouldn't.

You weren't stupid. You knew Rick was married, and you knew that Lori was his wife. Hell, everyone knew that, but it didn't stop the fire that started to rage inside of you every time you looked at him.

But the moment you saw the gun in Carl's hand, your jaw dropped.

And as you watched part of the group gather around him—Lori's voice rising in panic and irritation while Rick was trying to stay calm—something made you act and get a little closer.

"So on top of everything else, he lied," Lori snapped, her hands thrown up in the air like she couldn't handle another goddamn thing after everything that had happened so far.

Dale's voice, meanwhile, was surprisingly calm. "Well, it's my fault. I let him into the RV. He said he wanted a walkie, that you sent him for one."

You could tell Lori wasn't buying it, her face full of disbelief. But Rick didn't flinch. He just looked tired—drained, really—like this was the last thing he needed today. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes, how his shoulders seemed to carry the weight of this new world.

"I'm not comfortable with it," Lori continued, her voice higher now, demanding. "Oh, don't make me out to be the unreasonable one here. Rick?"

Rick let out a long, heavy sigh, his eyes finally looking from Lori to Carl and back. "I know. I have my concerns too, but..."

Lori immediately jumped on him. "There's no but! He was just shot! He's just back on his feet, and he wants a gun?"

Rick's jaw clenched, but he didn't back down. "Better than him being afraid of ‘em. There are guns in camp for a reason. He should learn to handle them safely."

Lori's anger almost boiled over. "I don't want my kid walking around with a gun!"

And you? You couldn't stop yourself from speaking up, too. "But Rick's right, Lori," you said, stepping forward. "This is about survival."

Lori's eyes snapped to you, narrowing as if she hadn't realized you were even standing there. "And who in the whole wide world asked you for your opinion when it comes to my family?"

You met her gaze head-on. "I'm just saying, if Carl's going to be out there, he needs to know how to defend himself."

Rick looked at you as well—briefly, but enough to make your heart skip a beat. He didn't say anything, but there was approval in his eyes before he turned back to Lori.

"Look, Carl's not a child anymore," he continued. "He's gotta start understanding this world, Lori. You can't keep sheltering him."

Lori's face was turning red a little, the argument getting more personal now. "Then he needs to act like one," she snapped, her hands on her hips. "He's not mature enough to handle a gun!"

Carl stood a little straighter, trying to defend himself. "I'm not gonna play with it, Mom!"

But it wasn't just about Carl and the gun. It was about something that no one wanted to talk about, but everyone else seemed to notice.

And you knew that the cracks in their marriage were getting bigger. You couldn't help but wonder how long it would take before one of them stepped out.

Rick shifted his weight, his brows furrowing slightly as he looked at Lori. "We can't keep treating Carl like a little kid. Not in this world. He needs to grow up, and fast."

"Exactly. Just give it a rest, Lori."

Your words made all eyes look at you.

"I'm sorry?" She demanded, voice rising. "How about you stay out of this?"

You crossed your arms, still not backing down.

"No, give it a rest. Carl's not a damn baby. This world's gone to hell, and you're still acting like he's gonna be safe because you tell him to stay put."

Meanwhile, Shane smirked at you. But you didn't care about him right now.

"Excuse me, but this is my son we're talking about. Not yours!"

"Oh, we all know that," you snapped, stepping closer. "You just don't want him to grow up because then he won't need Mommy holding his hand anymore."

Her mouth dropped open, stunned silent.

You didn't stop.

"I'm just saying… Rick's right. Shane as well. He needs to learn how to survive. But go ahead. Let's see how well that works when a walker gets too close and he'll turn. Because from where I stand, you don't get it, do you? Carl's not a fucking baby. If you think this world's going to get any better, you're out of your damn mind."

"You're just a teenager," she responded, putting her hands on her hips like she was somehow superior to you. "What do you know?"

"I'm not." You stepped forward. "I know a hell of a lot more than you give me credit for. Maybe it's time you stop playing the victim and realize we all have to step up, not just Carl. It's not his fault he's growing up in this nightmare."

Shane and Rick stayed silent, but you could feel their eyes on you. You didn't care. Lori was the one who'd been pissing you off for days, and it was time someone called her out besides Daryl Dixon.

But Lori, fuming, turned on her heel and stormed off, just like that. And the moment she was gone, Rick let out a deep breath, clearly relieved that it was over for now.

He didn't speak to you at first, just glanced at you with that tired look on his face, like he had no idea what to say. Then, his voice came out soft, like it had to fight its way through his exhaustion.

"Thanks," he said, the corner of his mouth showing a tiny hint of a smile. He didn't say much, but it was enough.

You nodded, smiling at him in return. "No problem."

Rick gave you one last look before turning away, and you couldn't help but stare after him, your heart pounding.

The hours dragged on, the heat making you sweat. You leaned against the side of the porch, arms crossed, watching the others from a distance. Maggie and Glenn had just left, but you weren't paying attention to them. You were lost in your thoughts, as usual.

Letting out a slow breath, you stared at the dirt beneath your feet, the faintest trace of dust swirling around. It felt like the world was always watching you, but you never seemed to matter. They all looked right past you like you were invisible at best.

You were supposed to be part of this group, right? But somehow, you always felt like an outsider. Even back in Atlanta, when the world was still—well, a little bit more normal—you didn't fit in. The others saw you somehow as a kid. Just a teenager, no matter how much you tried to prove otherwise. Hell, you were an adult now, having had your birthday already, but no one ever seemed to treat you that way.

"Jim was the only one who ever really talked to me," you said to yourself, shaking your head. "Before he got bit, anyway."

You let the memory of Jim come back. He has been looking out for you, always making sure you were safe. You used to hate how it felt like pity, but now? Now, you'd give anything to have that feeling again.

But the others? Rick, Lori, Shane, Dale, and the rest—they didn't see you that way. They saw you as a kid to protect. A burden.

You rolled your eyes, fighting the frustration that threatened to come back, too. "Dale? Yeah, he used to look out for me too. But as soon as Andrea came into the picture, it was like I didn't even exist anymore. It's always the same. There's always someone else. Maggie's got Glenn. Shane's still got his thing with Lori… And Rick?"

Your heart raced at the thought of him. You didn't want it to, but it did. And you couldn't help yourself. "Rick… he doesn't even see me. Not really. Looking at me, sure. But he's too busy playing the damn sheriff, trying to keep this group together."

Your fingers twitched at your sides, fighting the urge to run your hands through your hair. You shook your head again, clearing the thoughts.

"God, what the hell's wrong with me?" You laughed, taking a slow breath. "It's not like I'm a kid anymore. I'm not some… little girl."

You let out another bitter laugh. "Now I'm just here, stuck in the background. Glenn and Maggie? Yeah, they've already got each other. They've got this… thing. And they're gonna keep it, just like the rest of ‘em, while I'm left here. Alone."

It wasn't fair. Why did they all get to find something? Why did they get to find a connection while you were stuck in the circle of getting replaced?

You closed your eyes for a second, trying to shake the feeling off. It wasn't like you wanted to be envious. But you couldn't help it.

"Maybe Rick could see me," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "But he probably doesn't even know I'm here. Probably sees me as some damn kid still."

You laughed again, softer now, but still sounding bitter. "He's too busy with Lori. They've got their shit to figure out, and I'm just the quiet one in the background. Not important."

But the thought stayed anyway. What if he did see you? What if, for once, you weren't invisible to him?

"God, what I'd do just to feel him—" you whispered to yourself. You imagined the heat of his chest pressing against yours, the weight of his hips pressing against yours, the way he might growl your name as you wrapped your legs around him, desperate to feel him inside you. So fucking desperate.

Still, you shoved that thought away before it could go any further. But the yearning, that ache in your chest, stayed. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to make him see you. You wanted him to see you as something more than just the girl in the background. Something worth noticing.

You were about to slip back into your head, your thoughts wandering down that dangerous path again—the one where you imagined Rick's arms around you, his body pressing into yours, his lips on yours, and him finally losing control—when you heard footsteps stopping right next to you.

You snapped out of it just in time to see Dale passing by. He didn't seem to notice you at first, his focus on whatever task was occupying his mind, but as he got closer, his eyes looked to yours.

It was as if he could see right through you and every goddamn thought you were trying to hide.

"What's on your mind, kid?"

Dale certainly had his way of catching people off guard.

You stiffened, unsure whether to answer. He wasn't the type to push too hard, but you had this feeling that he knew exactly what was going on in your head. You didn't want him to see that side of you, the side that couldn't help but fantasize about things better left unsaid. He'd always been kind to you, like a father. But since Andrea, that kindness felt almost like a trap.

You bit your lip, trying to play it cool. "Nothing, just... thinking," you grumbled, trying to wave it off. But you could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, the telltale blush that was always there when your thoughts went to places they shouldn't.

Dale didn't buy it. Of course, he didn't. He took another step toward you, his hands resting lightly on his hips. He studied you, his expression unreadable.

"Thinking about what, exactly?" His voice had that certain tone, the one that made you feel like you couldn't hide anything from him, no matter how hard you tried.

You swallowed, the words almost slipping out before you could stop them. "I don't know... Just the way things are, I guess," you answered, noticing the vulnerability in your voice despite your best efforts.

His gaze softened for a moment, but you knew he was too smart for his own good. Too perceptive.

"You know," he began slowly, eyes looking around to make sure no one else was around, "I don't blame you for feeling the way you do. It's not easy... watching others find what they need while you're stuck in the background. But don't mistake that frustration for something more."

You tensed up again, your heart pounding in your chest. "What do you mean?" You asked, the words coming out meaner than you intended.

Dale's expression didn't change, but he shook his head. And him shaking his head always told you he was about to say something you weren't sure you wanted to hear. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. But you might want to be careful, kid. You shouldn't want something that is not for free."

You felt your heart drop. "I—" You were about to deny it, about to play it off as just your imagination, but something about the way Dale was looking at you made you freeze. His voice wasn't sounding accusatory, but more like a quiet warning. He wasn't angry; he wasn't judging. But the way he said it—like he knew—made you feel exposed and uncomfortable.

Dale let out a quiet sigh when you didn't continue. "You're not the first one to want something you can't have, but that doesn't mean it's a good idea to act on it. Sometimes, it's better to let things go. Before they end up biting you in the ass."

The words hit you like a slap to the face. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got caught in your throat. What the hell was he talking about? Was he warning you off Rick? Was he implying that you had no chance?

But Dale just shook his head, as if reading your thoughts. "I'm not saying it's wrong to feel things. But sometimes, wanting something too badly can make you do stupid shit. And trust me, I know all about that."

The way he said it made you wonder if he was speaking from more than just observation. But before you could pry any further, Dale patted you on the shoulder and smiled.

"Just keep your head on straight, okay?" And then, with one last look, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, feeling like a damn fool.

Your mind raced, a million thoughts colliding at once. It was like Dale had read your mind like he knew exactly what you were thinking—what you were feeling. But the fact that he was still treating you like a kid, even though you were an adult, didn't sit right. And it sure as hell didn't help that you couldn't stop thinking about Rick, no matter how much you tried to distract yourself.

Dale had a point, in some ways. But the thing was—you didn't want to just sit on the sidelines anymore. And if you were going to make that happen, it was only a matter of time before someone noticed. But the nerve of him, acting like he had it all figured out like he knew you better than you knew yourself? That made you stomp after him.

"Why don't you mind your own damn business for once?" You snapped, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Dale paused mid-step, his shoulders stiffening. He didn't turn around, didn't say anything. For a moment, it looked like he might, but then he just shook his head and kept walking farther and farther away.

He didn't get it. None of them did. And the worst part? He was right about one thing—you did want something you shouldn't. Something you couldn't stop thinking about.

With a frustrated huff and clenched fists, you turned on your heel and made your way back toward your tent. You didn't want to think about Dale, or Rick, or anyone else right now. You just wanted to disappear for a while, to escape the constant heat of the sun and the weight of everyone's expectations.

The air inside your tent was stale due to the summer heat, but it was offering at least a bit of privacy. You kicked off your boots, collapsing onto the sleeping pad. Sleep came slowly, your mind still racing with thoughts of Rick—his smile, his walk, the way his lips would feel against your skin. You could almost hear his voice, whispering things only you were meant to hear.

Eventually, exhaustion won out, dragging you into a restless nap.

Later, you woke up to the sound of raised voices outside your tent. Blinking against the midday light that made its way through tiny holes in your tent, you pushed yourself up, groggy and a little disoriented.

Maggie's voice rang out, louder this time. "Hey! We got your stuff."

You moved toward the edge of the tent, peering out just enough to catch the scene unfolding near you. Maggie stood there, fuming, looking frustrated and angry. Glenn was right behind her, looking like he wanted to disappear.

"Maggie, hang on, please," Glenn urged nervously, but Maggie wasn't having it.

"Come on in here," Lori started, but Maggie cut her off. "We got your special delivery right here! We got your lotion, got your conditioner, your Soap Opera Digest!"

"Maggie…" Lori answered, but Maggie wasn't done.

"Next time you want something, get it your damn self! We're not your errand boys!"

"Honey, I—" Lori tried again, but Maggie wasn't listening, fumbling with something in her hands.

"And here's your abortion pills!" She practically spat the words, throwing the pills onto the ground before storming off.

Glenn seemed to hesitate before he turned and followed Maggie into the farmhouse.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding, your heart pounding in your chest. Maggie's words came back to your mind, louder with each passing second: Next time you want something, get it your damn self.

The frustration in her voice, the anger—it struck a chord in you.

Get it your damn self...

Your mind started to race, the thoughts clicking into place. Maybe Maggie was right. If you wanted something, maybe it was time to stop sitting around waiting for it to happen. Maybe it was time to do something about it.

And you knew exactly what you wanted.

You'd been sitting on the sidelines long enough, letting everyone else call the shots, letting yourself fade into the background. Not anymore.

The sound of the farmhouse door got your attention. You peered out, catching sight of Glenn stepping back onto the porch, his head low, before leaving Maggie standing there alone in the doorway.

She didn't move, didn't look around—just stared out at the fields as if she were trying to will the world into something more manageable.

You saw your chance and took it.

Stepping out into the relentless sun, you made your way toward her, keeping your expression neutral. "Hey," you called softly as you approached, keeping your voice light but just concerned enough. "You okay?"

Maggie glanced at you, her brows furrowing for a split second before she sighed, letting her arms drop to her sides. "Yeah," she answered, though the tone of her voice betrayed her. "Just tired of cleaning up other people's messes."

You gave her a small, understanding smile. "I get that," you said, leaning casually against the porch railing beside her. "Lori's got a way of rubbing people the wrong way."

That got a short, bitter laugh out of her. "You don't say?"

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence. You wiped a bead of sweat from your temple, exaggerating the motion just enough to get Maggie's attention.

"God, it's too damn hot for this," you said, fanning yourself half-heartedly. "I swear, if I have to spend another day in these jeans around here, I'm gonna lose my mind."

Maggie glanced at you, her frustration softening just a bit. "Tell me about it," she said, running a hand through her hair. "Feels like I've been roasting all day. But I'm used to it."

You hesitated, letting the silence be just long enough before tilting your head slightly as if having an idea. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have anything lighter, would you? I didn't exactly pack for a heatwave and a vacation on a farm, and I'm about ready to cut these jeans into shorts."

Maggie blinked, caught off guard by the question, but then shrugged. "Actually… I might," she said, her tone thoughtful. "I've got some sundresses I don't wear. They're just hanging around in my closet."

You tried not to let your excitement show, keeping your expression casual as you said, "Really? That'd be amazing. I'd owe you big time for that."

Maggie waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it," she said, turning toward the door. "C'mon, I'll grab a few for you. You're right; it's too hot for jeans. At least, for you city folks."

You followed her into the house before Maggie disappeared into another room, returning a minute later with a handful of sundresses draped over her arm. She held them out to you with a small smile. "Here. I doubt they'll fit perfectly, but they should be lighter than what you've got."

You took the dresses, running your fingers over the fabric as you smiled up at her. "These are perfect. Thanks, Maggie."

She shrugged, brushing it off. "No big deal. Like I said, I don't wear 'em anyway."

You held the dresses close, already imagining how they'd feel against your skin, how they'd cling just enough to make an impression without giving too much away. You knew exactly how you'd use them, and the thought sent a thrill through you.

"Seriously," you said, your smile widening. "Thank you."

Maggie nodded, her own smile small but genuine. "Anytime," she responded, her tone lighter now. "And hey—don't let Lori get to you, too. She doesn't need to drag you into her bullshit too."

You laughed softly, nodding. "Trust me, I'm staying out of it. And away from her."

She gave you one last look, then turned and headed toward the kitchen, leaving you standing there in the doorway with the dresses and a plan forming in your mind.

Maggie had no idea what she'd just handed you once you stepped back outside. And if things went the way you intended, neither would Rick—at least, not at first.

The next morning, you slipped into the sundress that clung to you the most like a second skin, its fabric so light it felt almost indecent. The hem barely grazed mid-thigh, and you couldn't help but smirk at the way it looked on you.

This wasn't just a dress—it was bait. Especially since you decided to wear nothing underneath.

You'd barely stepped out of your tent before the heat of the day and the sun beat down mercilessly. The farm was quiet for now, everyone busying themselves with chores or trying to escape the relentless summer. It was the perfect opportunity to set your plan in motion.

You made your way toward the chicken coop, a basket in hand, one of the tasks you'd kept yourself occupied with as of late. Rick was nearby, fixing something with T-Dog, but you didn't look at him—not yet. Let him notice you first.

Crouching by the coop, you reached for an egg near the far corner, deliberately leaning in farther than necessary. The hem of the dress lifted just enough to expose the curve of your naked ass, the sun warming your skin. You pretended not to notice as you heard footsteps slow down behind you before turning to glance over your shoulder. Rick stood several feet away, holding a tool, his expression unreadable.

"Morning, Rick," you said casually, your lips curving into the hint of a smile.

He cleared his throat, nodding. "Morning. You, uh... need any help with that?"

You shook your head, holding up an egg. "Think I can handle it just fine. But thanks." Your tone was sweet, almost innocent, but you knew what you were doing.

Rick blinked several times and gave you another nod before turning back toward T-Dog.

For just a second, his mind betrayed him—an image burning itself into it that was just too quick to stop. You, bent over right there in the dirt, the dress pushed up around your waist, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. His cock buried so deep inside you, those soft little noises you'd whimper, and the feeling of your hot, sweat-slicked skin in the heat of the sun.

Rick swallowed hard, shaking it off like a man burned. Fuck. He needed to get his head on straight.

You bit back a grin as you watched him walk away, his shoulders all tense, his grip on the tool just a little too strong.

Gotcha.

The rest of the day passed in much the same way. You found little excuses to be near him, brushing by just close enough for your bare arm to graze his, or bending over to grab something at just the right angle to make his gaze wander. Every time, his reaction was the same—quick glances, tense shoulders, and a faint blush that made its way to his cheeks.

By the time the sun began to set slowly, you were sitting on the porch with one leg crossed over the other, staring out at the farm and admiring the beautiful surroundings until you were sure no one was really around anymore.

Waiting until Rick was alone now, especially with Shane nowhere in sight, you adjusted the straps of the sundress, letting it slip just a little further down your shoulders, and walked toward him.

"Rick?" You called out, your voice soft enough that he had to turn fully to hear you. His eyes looked up, immediately following the curves of your body before moving back to your face. He hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard.

"Yeah?" He replied, quite distracted.

You stopped a few feet away from him, tilting your head. "This may sound weird, but I was wondering… Shane's usually the one teaching people how to shoot, right?"

Rick nodded slowly, his brows furrowing. "Yeah. Shane's the best instructor I know. I've seen him teach kids even younger than Carl. Why?"

"Well, I thought maybe I should learn, too. I know, I know... I can shoot, but I was thinking it wouldn't hurt to learn it from someone who actually knows how to handle a weapon. You know, in case I ever need to protect myself even better." You smiled sweetly, shifting your weight to one hip so the fabric of your dress clung more to your curves. "But Shane's nowhere to be found. I think he's away and teaching Andrea today; I'm not sure. Think you could show me?"

Rick's jaw twitched as he glanced past you as if looking for an escape. "I... yeah, I haven't seen him half of the day, either, and Andrea neither, so I guess I could do that. But not for long. The sun is setting already. C'mon, follow me."

You grinned, stepping a little closer. "Thanks, Sheriff Grimes. I'd feel a lot safer knowing I can really handle a gun. You never know when things might go south, after all." Your hand touched his arm lightly as he turned, leading the way toward the area they chose for training.

By the time you reached the spot, Rick handed you a silenced pistol, his fingers brushing yours. His hand lingered just a second too long, and you caught the slight hitch in his breath as you turned it over in your hands.

"Alright," he said, stepping behind you. "First, you need to get a good grip on it. Keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to fire. Always treat it like it's loaded. Never point it at anything you don't want to shoot. Got it?"

You pretended to fumble with the gun, tilting it awkwardly in your hand. "Like this?" You asked, glancing over your shoulder at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Rick sighed, stepping closer until his chest almost pressed against your back. "No," he grumbled. "Here, let me..."

His hands slid over yours, guiding your fingers into place. His touch was firm, and you leaned back ever so slightly, your ass pressing against his hips.

Rick just froze.

You bit your lip, trying to appear oblivious as you shifted again, this time pressing yourself more insistently against him. The fabric of the dress left nothing between you, and you didn't miss the way he stiffened—not just his body, but the unmistakable hardness of his cock growing against you.

"Careful. Stand still."

"Sorry," you answered, shifting just enough to grind back against him, pretending to be clumsy. "I guess I'm not as good at this as I thought."

His hands tightened on your arms. "Stop that," he said, hissing slightly, but his voice betrayed him. It was strained like he was fighting with himself.

You didn't stop. You pressed back again, slower this time, letting the movement seem unintentional. "Stop what?" You asked, your voice soft and sweet, playing dumb.

Rick groaned softly, the sound barely audible, but you caught it. "Put…" He growled, stepping back suddenly. "Put the gun down. And follow me."

You obeyed, putting the gun down and letting him lead you toward the chicken coop.

It felt like Rick's hand was swallowing yours whole as he yanked you along, half-dragging, half-guiding you further behind the chicken coop. His boots crunched against the dry dirt, and your sandals barely made a sound as you stumbled to keep up.

The second you were fully out of sight, Rick spun on you, backing you into the wall. The coop creaked under the sudden impact, dust kicking up between the cracks. The secluded spot was shaded with shadows by now, with only the last rays of sunlight shining onto the ground.

"The hell do you think you're doin'?" His voice was strained, every word coming out with irritation.

You blinked up at him, pretending to be innocent, but your lips couldn't help but curl into a smirk. "What do you mean? I don't understand."

His eyes were dropping for a split second—just a second—to your breasts, where the sundress clung to your skin, nipples already hard.

He didn't even bother hiding it now.

Rick turned on you, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning you like he was trying to figure out what to do with you.

"I just asked you… What the hell do you think you're doing?"

You shrugged. "And I don't know what you mean. What are you talking about, Rick?"

"The hell you don't," he shot back, stepping closer.

You took a step closer as well, your heart pounding in your chest. "So what if I do?" You challenged him, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are you gonna do about it, Sheriff Grimes?"

His eyes narrowed just slightly before he grabbed your arm, his grip firm but not painful. "You don't understand," he said, his voice rough. "You're—"

"An adult," you cut in, rolling your eyes. "I'm not even a teenager anymore! And I'm damn well not a fucking child! Stop pretending I am!"

His jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours. Your lips parted, but no words came out. The heat in his gaze made your stomach flutter, the sheer anger in them somehow making your knees weak.

"Sorry..." You blinked up at him. "But I just wanted to learn how to shoot. How to be even better at shooting, I mean."

"Oh, don't play dumb," he snapped back. "You're getting way too close—"

"Too close?" You cut off his words as you pressed your chest against his. "I don't think it's close enough, Rick."

"No. This ain't right. You're just—"

"Don't," you interrupted again. "Don't. I'm not. And you know it."

His resolve cracked. His breath was brushing along your cheek as he leaned in, closer than before, but with that same stern look on his face. "You think I didn't notice? Walking around in that little dress, no fuckin' bra, no damn panties. Flashing' your ass, rubbing' up on me with your tits like some goddamn—"

"Like some what?" You interrupted, tilting your head. "Say it."

Rick's nostrils flared. He didn't know what to answer, didn't know how to act, but that smirk on your face?

That made him act.

Rick's hand shot out, gripping your hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. His other hand shoved up beneath your dress, squeezing the curve of your naked ass.

"Fuckin' knew it," he hissed like he was angry at himself for being right.

But he didn't move away. His thumb was pressing against your hipbone, the callouses of it scratching your skin.

"You think I ain't got more important shit to deal with right now?" He snapped, but it was weak, crumbling. "Like searching for Sophia?"

"Of course you do. But you also need to relax from time to time, Rick," you purred, voice as sweet as syrup, fingers sliding up his chest, feeling his heart beating through the sweat-damp fabric. "You're wound up so tight, it's gotta hurt after a while."

He laughed—loud, humorless. "Yeah? And you think you're the solution?"

You leaned in, lips ghosting over the stubble on his jaw. "I could be."

Rick's hand slid higher, fingers tracing the curve of your spine, dragging your body closer until your hips met his. You felt it—his cock—hard and thick, pressing against your stomach. He wasn't fooling anyone.

But still, he held back, teeth grinding.

"This isn't a good idea," he muttered, voice strained.

You rolled your hips, slow and deliberate, grinding against him, feeling the twitch in his cock through his pants. "Feels like a good idea to me."

"Jesus f-fuck…" He stuttered, but he didn't move.

You pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, your smirk softening into a warm smile. "Unless… you can't handle it."

Rick's eyes snapped to yours. For a moment, the world stood still—the distant voices near the house, the rustle of leaves, and even the clucking of chickens felt far away.

He leaned in, so close his lips barely brushed yours when he spoke.

"Don't fuckin' test me. This is wrong." His voice was almost a growl. "I got a wife. I got a son."

You could feel the words scraping his throat like they physically hurt coming out.

"Oh, now you remember?" You shot back, eyes narrowing. "That didn't stop you from staring every damn time I bent over. Since Atlanta."

Rick flinched, just barely, but it was there. His grip slipped for half a second before tightening again.

"Don't—"

"What? Tell the truth? You don't want me to tell the truth?" You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper again. "You've been watching me. You think I didn't notice? The way your eyes stared at me, the way you tensed up when I walked by?"

Rick's jaw was clenched so tight you thought it might dislocate itself.

"Doesn't matter," he spat out, like saying it again would make it real, make it matter. "I'm married."

"Yeah? And Lori's really faithful, huh?"

His whole body went still. Rigid.

"Just," he warned, but his voice had lost its bite. "Just stop it."

"I'm just saying!" You tilted your head. "Maybe I'm not the only one who's been looking for… comfort. And I bet you know it and knew it for some time now."

Rick didn't say a word. His grip on you loosened for a second, and that was all the opening you needed.

"What's the matter, Rick? Don't like hearing the truth? You really think Shane's out there teaching Andrea how to shoot right now? Or is he too busy teaching Lori how to fuck like a married woman should? Who knows, right?"

Rick's breath hitched—just barely—but it was enough.

"Yeah. That's what I thought. You're really still holding onto that lie of a marriage, aren't you?" You pressed, leaning in just a little closer. "That picture-perfect family you've convinced yourself is still intact while the world's gone to shit?"

You didn't miss how his chest rose and fell faster, heavier.

"Fuck you," he spat, but it wasn't anger—it was defeat. Frustration.

"Maybe you should."

That was it.

He lunged forward, smashing his mouth against yours, teeth clashing, lips bruising. It wasn't a kiss—it was punishment, it was desperation, it was everything all at once.

His hands were everywhere—one tangled in your hair, yanking your head back, the other gripping your ass so hard you swore he'd leave marks.

You gasped against him, but it only opened you up for more, his tongue forcing its way past your lips, deep and unforgiving.

Your hands clawed at his shirt, nails scraping against the sweaty fabric, trying to pull him closer, closer, like there was any space left between you.

Rick shoved you harder against the chicken coop wall as you hooked a leg around his hip, grinding up against the length of his hard cock.

"Just… just keep it quiet," he growled against your skin. "Or someone'll hear."

But the risk made it more exciting.

Your hips ground into his, chasing friction, and Rick groaned, biting down on your shoulder to muffle it in desperation. He seemed caught between wanting to shove you away and drag you closer.

"This isn't right…" He whispered, more to himself than to you. His hands kept you in place, fingers digging into your body. "You may be an adult, but you're still too young for me."

You huffed a laugh, breathing against his neck. "But not too young for you to stare at, huh?"

Both his hands moved before his mind could catch up, gripping your hips and suddenly lifting you like you weighed nothing. You gasped, both of your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, the sundress riding up to your hips, leaving nothing between you but his jeans straining against his cock.

Rick slammed you back against the chicken coop with force before his mouth was on yours again—messy, wet, desperate. One hand anchored under your ass while the other slid up, muffling the needy sounds coming from your lips against his shoulder.

You barely had a second to catch your breath before he was undoing his belt with one hand, fumbling, cursing quietly under his breath. The sound of it opening, the noise of a zipper, and then he was free, thick and hard, pressing hard and insistent against you, twitching and leaking.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, forehead pressed to yours, his breathing ragged.

"This is your last chance to tell me to stop," he growled out, barely holding it together.

Your answer was a slow, greedy roll of your hips against him.

That was all it took.

Rick pushed into you in one hard, punishing thrust, splitting you open around him, filling you so deep with his cock that it knocked the breath straight from your lungs.

Your muffled cry was swallowed against his shoulder still, his hand on the back of your head pushing you against him, his teeth sinking into the curve of your neck to silence the groan that tore from his own throat.

"Shit," he hissed, voice ragged, hips slamming into yours again, harder this time as you clamped your legs around his hips. "So fuckin' tight..."

You clung to him, nails digging into his back, feeling the rough slide of his pants against the backs of your thighs with every brutal, deep thrust.

The chicken coop creaked behind you, every slap of his hips against yours making you think the noise may be way too loud in the warm summer air.

"Stay quiet," he growled again, but his voice was shaky, desperate. His hand didn't leave the back of your head, his palm sweaty against your disheveled hair.

But the risk—the sheer danger and wrongness of it—only made you feel higher.

Anyone could walk by. Carol. Shane. Dale. Anyone else from the group. Even the Greenes.

But Rick didn't stop. Didn't slow down.

His grip on you tightened, bruising, holding you open and steady for him, driving into you over and over, harder, deeper.

The heat, the sweat, the sound of his labored breathing in your ear—it was overwhelming, delicious. And exactly what you wanted.

"Goddamn it…" He cursed to himself, his face still buried in your neck, teeth scraping against your sensitive skin.

But still, he held back. His pace was slow and deep, but he wasn't chasing the end of it—of this—not yet.

It was punishment. It was control.

And it was slipping.

The way his breath hitched, the ragged growls that tore from his throat—he was losing it, and you could feel it.

His hand remained firm against your mouth, but it wasn't as tight as before. His chest rose and fell quickly as if the restraint was killing him. His eyes, when he pulled his head back to look at you, opened for a moment. They were wild, like a man fighting against a storm that was brewing inside himself.

"You need to stop," he groaned, but the words sounded weak.

You arched into him, bouncing up and down on his cock in perfect rhythm, urging him on as you held on tight. "Me? And what about you? Are you sure you can, Rick?" Your voice was sweet and teasing, and it made his breath hitch. "You've been staring at me all this time. You've been fuckin' dreaming about this, haven't you?"

"Don't push me."

But you didn't listen. You never did.

One of your hands slid from his shoulder, down his chest, feeling him tense up even more. Slowly, you ran your fingers over his abs, letting him fuck you just the way he wanted to.

"What would Lori think if she saw us like this?" You suddenly whispered, eyes looking up to meet his as you bit your lower lip, leaning in closer. "Does she ever wonder why you look at me like that? Why you don't stop staring when I walk past? You think she's worried?"

Rick's whole body went still for a moment, but he stayed inside you. He let out a deep, controlled breath, but his eyes never left yours. You could see the fight in him, the battle to do the right thing, to not cross that line. But it was already crossed—crossed faster than he'd ever care to admit.

You moved your hips against his all over, dragging a moan from him as your legs tightened around his waist. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

The words were poison, but Rick was too far gone to stop himself from letting them sink in.

"Don't… don't talk about her."

You smirked, feeling a rush of power, the heat of the moment making your heart race faster. "But it's true, isn't it, Rick? She doesn't need to know about us. She's too busy with Shane, right? You wouldn't be here if you didn't know. You wouldn't want this if…"

His eyes narrowed at the mention of Shane, and you saw the doubt on his face. But then his hips moved, fucking into you harder, faster, almost like he was trying to drown out the words you'd said.

You slid one hand up to his face, fingers moving slowly along the line of his jaw, urging him to look at you. "You want this. You want me. You can't stop yourself, and I know it."

His hands clenched on your body, as if the weight of your words was pushing him further into that abyss he'd been fighting against. The pulse between your legs grew unbearable, the need for him, the craving for him deeper than before. You could feel his cock twitch inside you, his body barely holding on, his legs trying not to buckle, but still not giving in.

"You're wrong…" He groaned, but his eyes told a different story. His breath was coming faster now, uneven, like he was trying to resist the inevitable. But the heat between you both couldn't be ignored.

Your mouth found his again, lips teasing, pressing against his in slow, sensual kisses. You moved against him once more, slow and deliberate, until he hissed, his grip tightening once again.

"Am I? Because… I think you like this," you whispered against his lips, your breath coming in shallow bursts of moans. "I think you like knowing you could still fuck me even with all the other shit going on. You love it."

His lips trembled against yours, him thrusting into you like he was trying to rid himself of any thought other than this, just the two of you at this moment.

"Because you've been teasing' me all damn day," he whispered as if he was choking on the words. "Walking around like that, letting me see everything—"

"Wanted you to look," you gasped, bouncing harder on him, shameless. "Wanted you to fuck me."

"Goddamn dress," Rick moaned as he squeezed you harder, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove into you faster. "Knew you weren't wearin' a fuckin' thing under this. Knew you wanted me to see it."

"I did," you gasped, your words broken. "Wanted you to—oh, fuck—do this!"

Rick's mouth found your neck, his beard scraping against your sensitive skin as he bit and kissed a sloppy trail along your throat. You could feel him everywhere—his hands, his cock, his lips—taking you in a way that was so raw and desperate that it left you trembling and made it hard for your legs to keep holding on.

You bucked against him, rolling your hips in time with his, meeting him thrust for thrust as your moans grew a little bit louder, but Rick silenced you by crashing his mouth to yours, his tongue sliding against yours with the same urgency as his movements.

"I feel you," he then groaned against your lips, his voice cracking. His grip on your ass softened slightly as if he couldn't decide between fucking you senseless or worshipping you. "You're close, aren't you? You're gonna come for me, won't you?"

"Y-yes," you whimpered quietly, your nails raking over his shoulders through his shirt. "Rick, don't stop—please, don't stop—not now."

His thrusts stopped for half a second, and then he suddenly slowed down, his thrusts deep and on purpose now, dragging out the feeling with every inch of his cock sliding into you. One of his hands slipped from your ass back to your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer, grinding his hips into yours so you could feel every bit of him.

"Come for me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice was softer now, gentler, but no less commanding. "Let me feel you... Let me see you fall apart on me."

You shattered with a silent cry, eyes wide, your body clenching around him as your orgasm ripped through you. Rick groaned, his grip tightening on you again as he kept moving, drawing out every shiver and whimper.

But he didn't stop. Not yet. You felt him still holding back, his cock throbbing inside you, a tiny drop of sweat rolling down his face. His thrusts slowed even further, almost agonizingly sensual now as if he was savoring every second.

"Rick…" You whispered, your voice hoarse, your fingers trying to hold on to his shoulders again. His eyes met yours once more, searching, and questioning, before he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his thrusts slowing to a halt as he fought to regain control.

"I can't," he stammered. "Not yet."

He was still fighting it. Fighting you. And himself.

You shifted slightly, a sensual roll of your hips that made him hiss through his teeth. "Don't," he groaned, his voice strained. "You don't understand what you're doing, what this is gonna—"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," you interrupted. "I've been waiting for this all day, Rick. For so damn long. Don't hold back on me now."

Before he could protest, you were gripping his shoulders even harder. With one slow motion, you lifted yourself, feeling every inch of his cock slide out of your pussy, only to drop back down hard, taking him to the hilt again before starting to bounce up and down.

Rick cursed, the sound ripping from his throat as his head fell back, his eyes squeezing shut. His control cracked instantly, both his hands now holding on to your ass, gripping you like a lifeline as you were the one to set a punishing rhythm this time. You rode him with everything you had, grinding down on him as you bounced, the muscles of your thighs burning with the effort but your need driving you harder.

Each thrust drove him deeper, the head of his cock brushing against your G-spot that made you shudder and clench around him, tearing more broken curses from his lips.

"Goddamn it," he growled, his voice shaking. "You're gonna—fuck—you're gonna make me—"

"That's the idea," you gasped, your nails raking down his shoulders and back. "Don't fight it, Rick. Let go."

His eyes snapped open, full of desperate need that sent a thrill through you. He was close, so close to the edge, and you wanted to push him over. You kept riding him, harder, faster, until his hands trembled against your ass, his breathing turning into whimpering, uneven moans.

And then, just as he tensed, his body going rigid beneath you, you stopped.

Rick's eyes flew open in shock, his hips jerking up instinctively as he chased the orgasm you'd just denied him. But you were already sliding off him with a smirk on your face.

He stood there with his pants shoved halfway down his hips, his cock hard and throbbing in your grip. His chest rose and fell like he'd just run a marathon, and yet, he still had this damn look on his face. Like he was trying to convince himself that none of this was happening. That he wasn't about to let you do this.

He'd already failed. Miserably.

"Rick…" You whispered, your voice teasing him on purpose, lips kissing the tip of his leaking cock as you looked up at him. Your fingers tightened their hold while sliding up his shaft, smearing the pre-cum around the tip.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. For a second, his eyes looked out into the distance, scanning the open fields and the rest of the farm beyond the chicken coop. Guilt was seen on his face, written all over it, his jaw clenching.

But then his gaze dropped back to you, to your lips. To where you knelt in the dirt, the sundress bunched around your thighs, one hand holding his throbbing cock, and he knew there wasn't a single thing in the world that could stop him from wanting this right now.

"But… this isn't right," he still rasped, and his body betrayed him, a bead of pre-cum dripping down as you dragged your thumb along his tip again.

"Sure," you mumbled, leaning in to let your tongue lick across the head of his cock. He hissed through his teeth, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to pull you back but couldn't. "Because standing here with your dick in my hand after fucking me is real loyal of you, huh?"

Rick remembered Atlanta, finding Lori and Carl alive, the sheer relief that had made him feel like everything was about to feel right in the world again. But that feeling had disappeared quickly, hadn't it?

He hadn't forgotten the way Shane had acted—shocked, possessive, protective, too close to Carl and his wife. And Lori? Somewhat distant and confused. He wasn't stupid. He could see it. Feel it. Something had been broken long before he ever came back.

And now here you were. Young, bold, shameless. A part of him wanted to shove you away, to walk the hell back to the farmhouse, and pretend this never happened.

But you looked up at him like he was the last man on Earth. Like he was everything. And that hunger in your eyes—he hadn't felt wanted and desired like that in years. Maybe ever.

You leaned in again, pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, dragging it up slowly, savoring every inch of him like he was only yours to take. Rick groaned, his hand snapping out to grab the back of your head.

"Fuck—don't stop," he breathed, his voice cracking.

You wrapped your lips around his cock, taking him in deep, slow at first, letting him feel the wet heat of your mouth. His hips bucked involuntarily, his shaft pushing deeper, hitting the back of your throat.

But when you raised your hand to grip him tighter again, Rick growled, grabbing your wrist and pulling it away. "Don't," he said quietly, shaking his head.

Instead, he gripped himself, holding his cock steady as he pressed the tip against your lips, smearing pre-cum across them. "Open," he ordered.

You did, letting your lips part wide, your tongue sliding out to meet him. Rick groaned again, his head falling back for a moment as he guided his cock into your mouth, pushing in deeper this time, fucking into your mouth slowly.

"Shit," he hissed through his teeth, his free hand still tangling in your hair as he held you still. "You—shit—you feel so goddamn good."

Your hands rested on his thighs now, nails digging in as you let him set the pace. It was messy, wet, sloppy. Spit dripped from the corners of your mouth, sliding down your chin as he thrust shallowly, just enough to keep himself right on the edge.

Rick couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't stop.

All he could see was you—on your knees, looking up at him with those innocent eyes, lips stretched around his cock, taking him like you were made for it. And it felt so good it was almost unbearable.

"God, what the hell am I doing…" He groaned quietly, his hips trembling. But he didn't stop. He couldn't. Not when you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper, harder, your tongue working over him like you wanted to suck him empty.

His grip on your hair tightened, his cock twitching in your mouth as he fought to keep control. But when you moaned around him, the vibration shooting straight through him, he lost it.

Rick pulled back suddenly, his cock slipping from your mouth with a wet pop. You looked up at him, lips shiny, cheeks all red and flushed, as he stroked himself, his hand wet with your spit.

"You're gonna make me come," he groaned, his eyes locked on your lips.

He pressed the tip of his cock to your lips again, smearing the pre-cum across them, down your chin, his strokes turning faster and rougher. You opened your mouth, trying to take him back in, but Rick held you still, teasing himself against your lips, the head of his cock nudging against your tongue.

And then he came.

A loud moan escaped his throat as his cum shot all across your lips, so warm and thick. You stuck your tongue out, catching what you could, swallowing it greedily as he smeared the rest across your lips with the tip of his cock.

Rick was shaking, his body trembling as he pumped himself through it, every bit of tension leaving him as he watched you lick your lips clean, swallowing every drop.

He stood there, chest heaving, staring down at you like he couldn't believe what he'd just done.

"Shit," he whispered, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

You stood up slowly, brushing the dirt off your knees and adjusting the sundress. Rick's eyes followed your every move, staying on your lips, your throat, and the curve of your breasts. He looked like a man torn in two, his guilt battling with his loyalty.

"This… can't happen again," he said, finally breaking the silence. "Shouldn't."

You smirked, stepping closer, your hand moving along his chest, fingers toying with the open collar of his shirt before dropping to the waistband of his pants. The belt still hung loose, his zipper still undone, and you tugged on the leather lightly.

"Whatever you say, Sheriff Grimes."

Rick sucked in a quick breath as you leaned in, your lips kissing his cheek lightly. And then, just like that, you pulled back and walked away.

The sundress moved and swayed in the wind with every step, the warm summer breeze lifting it just enough to reveal your naked ass once more.

Rick stood there for a long moment, his chest still heaving, his mind a mess of want and guilt and so many more feelings he couldn't even name.

He reached down, adjusting himself with a shaky hand, tucking his cock back into his pants. The belt slipped from his fingers once before he managed to buckle it, fumbling with the leather as his legs threatened to give out again, not yet closing the zipper. Finally, he leaned back against the chicken coop, dragging his hands over his face.

What the hell had he just done?

His throat was dry, his whole body still shaking with the feeling of your touch. He'd always thought of himself as a good man, hadn't he? A loyal husband. A good father.

But standing there, with his pants still half-open and the taste of sin on his lips, he didn't feel like either.

As soon as Rick was about to leave, a sudden movement caught his eye, and his stomach dropped, twisting itself into a tight knot that made him want to vomit on the spot.

Shane.

The other man was walking back toward the tents, Andrea at his side and stumbling slightly behind him. Shane looked casual like he didn't have a care in the world, but as he looked around to scan the surroundings for any danger, his eyes immediately stayed on Rick.

For a second, they just stared at each other.

He felt exposed, uncomfortable, like Shane could see everything—the guilt written all over his face, the smell of sex still clinging to his skin and his clothes.

And then Shane's head moved, his eyes following Rick's line of sight.

You.

You were halfway back with walking to the tents now, the sundress fluttering in the breeze again, the curve of your bare ass showing itself for another second. Shane tilted his head, his expression unreadable, his mouth twitching like he was holding back a loud laugh.

Rick saw it, though. Right there, on Shane's face. Amusement? Judgment? Maybe a little of both.

By now, Rick felt like he was suffocating under the weight of it all—Lori, Carl, you, Shane. Everything.

Because Shane was no saint. He knew that. It was like you had said before; he knew it for some time now. His best friend had slept with Lori, and maybe even wanted to take his place. But right now? Rick wasn't sure he was any better than him.

Rick pushed himself off the chicken coop, his boots kicking the dirt as he turned toward the farmhouse. He didn't say a word as he passed Shane, didn't even look at him.

But he could feel Shane's eyes on him, the smirk burning into the back of his skull like a brand.

And as Rick walked back toward the tent where Lori was sleeping with Carl at her side, his fists clenched while his heart was pounding, his mouth tasted dry—no, worse—like you.

It tasted like sin—devouring him whole.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I wrote this a bit quicker than usual. I know, I know, I’m a slow writer, sorry about that! Please bear with me. I tried my best to clean up any repetition or grammar mistakes, and since this is my first Rick Grimes oneshot in a while, I’m honestly a little nervous to even share it. I still feel like there might be some missing details or areas that could’ve been expanded more, but I hope you still enjoyed it.

SONG RECOMMENDATION ⁀➴ 「VANDENBERG ⋮ SIN」

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coqvttes · 10 months ago

Text

୨୧― 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠. 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧

୨୧˚ synopsis: your dad sends his best friend officer grimes to pick up his precious daughter from a party, but things get heated when rick punishes you for resisting an officer.

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, p in v, petnames, crying, teasing, spanking, fem!reader, sub!reader, dbf!rick, dom!rick, age gap, creampie, rough sex, manhandling, mentions of handcuffs, public sex, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k for @pillow-princess-69 ‘s request <3

“you’re coming with me, sweetheart,” he says, giving you no chance to answer or even breathe before he’s hoisting you up and practically throwing you over his broad shoulder. you squeal as he holds you firmly in place.

“noooooo, rick, im having fun!” you wail, smacking his shoulder as if it would do any damage. he shakes his head as he heads back towards the front door, his hand holding you by the waist, fingers so dangerously close to your arse.

“‘m staying here!” pleading, you kick your legs up in the air, causing his grip on your side to tighten. He pays you no attention as he pushes through the crowd of people holding red cups and dancing to the awfully loud music.

he manages to get past the front door and he pulls the door of his police patrol car open, leaning down to plop you down in the passenger seat. he slams your door shut before getting in the driver's seat.

“seatbelt,” he orders, but you ignore him and huff as you cross your arms, gosh you never fail to give him the usual attitude. he rolls his eyes before leaning over you to click your seatbelt on for you like a child.

“i’m not a baby! it was just a party. it’s only midnight! you just had to barge in and ruin it.” you complain, glaring at him.

“your dad sent me to pick you up, so i’m just doing my job, and i don’t want you to get drunk and get yourself into trouble.”

he starts the engine up and rests his hand on the back of your headrest to reverse, but you don’t even hear him as your attention is focused entirely on his beefy arm as he’s trying to reverse out of the driveway.

“officer, is it true that you get to take your handcuffs home?”

his brow raises, and he gives you a curious expression before nodding.

“yes, i take my cuffs home with me, got em right here,” he says, taking a hand off the wheel to show you the cuffs that hang on the belt of his trousers. you smile before speaking again.

“do you use them when you have sex?”

his expression changes to complete shock, and his cheeks burn as he spares you a glance. his expression is priceless as he fumbles with his words, unsure of how to answer such a question.

“i’d let you put me in handcuffs, officer. grimes,” you whisper, trailing your fingers slowly up his tense thigh before hastily grabbing onto his prominent bulge in his trousers, palming him cheekily.

oh now you’ve done it. He abruptly stops the car in the middle of nowhere, as it seems. you smirk as you try to read his emotions as he switches gears before pulling his seatbelt off. he gets out of the car before looping around to your side, opening the passenger door.

“get out.” he pulls you out by the arm roughly and slams the door shut, maneuvering you over to the hood of the car as you stumble along.

“you need to watch your mouth, sweetheart. saying things like that to a man might get you into some trouble, you know?”

his voice is deep and throaty, and your cunt is practically drooling for him as he bends you over the bonnet of the car, his palm pressing down on the dip of your back, just above your arse.

“‘m sorry, officer, are you gonna have to punish me?” you tease, wiggling your arse at him, practically taunting him.

“god, you’ve been testing my patience, sweetheart. you know how long i’ve had to hold back from putting you in your place? god if it wasn’t for your dad, i would’ve fucked you by now.”

rick practically growls as he flips up your little skirt, smiling when he sees how your cute little cotton panties have a dark wet spot down the middle, right where your precious cunt is.

“awww you wet for me, darlin?” he coos, rubbing his calloused thumb over the dampness of your panties, pressing down ever so gently. he grins satisfactorily as you let out a quiet whimper, arching your back into the pleasure.

his fingers sneak into your panties and cup your glistening mound before tugging them down entirely, pulling them off your legs before stuffing them in his pocket, but you don't know that.

you gasp and turn your head around as you hear his belt unbuckling before he tugs his trousers and briefs down just enough so that he can pull his dick out. he’s so hard, his angry head is leaking with pre-cum from your previous teasing.

he rubs the tip against your weeping cunt a few times before he pushes inside of you, groaning throatily. you lunge forward from the sudden intrusion and gasp out his name.

his hand rests on the dip of your back, and his other rests on the curve of your arse. he sheathes himself inside you entirely before pulling out halfway, his movements are slow, and you whine impatiently. just as you’re about to complain, he starts thrusting in and out of your hole mercilessly.

knocking the air out of your lungs, you feel the drag of his dick in your gummy walls as he fucks you into oblivion. your knees buckle, and you lose your balance, but his strong, muscular arms hold you up against the car firmly.

god forbid, if any car drove past you, you’d both be down for public indecency, but it’s 4 a.m. and nobody drives down these roads at this hour. besides, he’s the law around here; he’s never letting anything happen to you, not on his watch.

rick cruelly pounds into your cunt, whispering filthy nonsense about how he’s been waiting so long to do this and how much of a brat you are.

none of it makes sense in your dumb mind. with the feeling of his dick bullying into you, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting for this too.

“r-rick! faster!” you cry, your voice wobbling slightly as your body lunges forward with each of his thrusts.

“say it properly,” he tuts, bringing his palm up before smacking it on the softness of your arse. whimpering through tears, you barely manage.

“p-please officer, faster-!” he lets out a hum of approval before picking up his pace, now brutally snapping his hips against yours.

it’s all too much with the rough groans coming from his throat, the lewd smacking noises of his hips snapping against yours, and your slutty moans. your climax nears as you chant his name like a prayer.

he pounds into you in an almost animalistic manner, his hands gripping onto your waist so tight you swear you’ll bruise later. drool dripping down the corner of your lips at how deliciously filthy he’s fucking you.

“ohh rickkk, mm!” you moan delightedly as your cunt clenches around him, pleasure washing over you entirely as you lose yourself around him. he follows up shortly, releasing his cum inside you with a broken moan.

“sweetheart”

he slowly exhales as he pulls out of your heat, warm cum spilling out of your used hole as you remain bent over his car, cunt clenching around nothing as he leaves you empty.

“thank you, officer.” you giggle, pulling your panties back up.

“fuck, your dad’s gonna kill me.” he sighs, zipping his trousers back up and smirking at you.

“not if he doesn’t find out.” you smile at him cheekily, approaching him, and he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. you lean up to whisper, “next time, i’ll let you cuff me, officer.” you grin before walking past him to get back into the car.

he stands there, dumbfounded and wondering if he should just take you in the back of the car right now. he doesn’t think he can wait till next time, whenever next time is…

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2024. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!

#rick grimes #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #twd smut #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead smut #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #rick grimes twd #andrew lincoln #andrew lincoln smut #andrew lincoln x reader #rick grimes moodboard #daryl dixon

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hutchersonsgurl · 6 months ago

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The two faves all the way 🤞🏼

#twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon drabbles #twd daryl dixon #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes smut #twd rick #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x female reader #andrew lincoln

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ruewrote · 4 months ago

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𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡.

coming soon . . .

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lilgoblinbitch · 10 months ago

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Gossip 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

part two here

a/n: i based this fic on this post here! i might make a part 2 because i have some ideas in the back of my head of how i think this story could end up going eventually, but idk if i will write it yet. we'll see! also i made up the two random alexandrians in this story :)

summary: rick overhears you and some alexandrian women gossiping, and he decides to confront you.

warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption (reader gets drunk).

wc: 1.5k

MDNI

“Spencer does not like me, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You scoffed, taking another sip of the pinot. This was your second glass, and your head was starting to buzz.

Two Alexandrian women became well acquainted with you, offering you a bottle of wine and some dinner after your first week in Alexandria. You decided “why the hell not.” You never really had great friends before the apocalypse and the only ones you had were the group you came in with, so it wouldn’t harm you to make more.

“Oh honey, did you not notice the way he was ogling you at Deanna’s party?” One of them asked — her name was Shannon. The other woman, Vivian, slightly chuckled, taking one last swig from her glass. She nodded, muttering something in agreement.

You sighed. “Even if he was checking me out, it’s not like I care anyway...”

The two women paused simultaneously, looking up at you with ‘bitch, HUH?’ written on their faces. “Y/n, Spencer is a beautiful man! He’s tall, handsome, and he’s around your age I believe,” Vivian gushed. You scowled, displeased at the comment.

You took another gulp from your glass, emptying the contents down your gullet and then setting it on the kitchen island. After licking your lips clean, you said, “Well, frankly, I don't really care if I’m being quite honest.” Your mind swirled with inebriated thoughts; you sort of had a love-hate relationship when it came to alcohol — it either made you perfectly giddy and sociable or very angsty and erratic. But that’s what it did to most people, anyway. Right now, it was making you angsty. “I have someone else on my mind.”

“Oh, my! Okay, who is it?” Shannon asked, her and Vivian both on the edge of their chairs anticipating what you were about to say — well, what they expected you to tell them, that is.

You thought for a moment; should you tell them? It seemed like they lived for that kind of gossip. But that could mean that they might spill your secret, and you weren't exactly ready for that. “I’ll tell you another time. I’m tired, gonna head to bed,” you stated, yawning as you got up from the stool you were seated on. The two women groaned in disappointment, like children who failed to convince their parents to take them to disney world.

After your friends left you strutted out of the kitchen, about to head upstairs when you heard a door open and shut. Instinctively you ran back to the kitchen to grab a knife to defend yourself from a possible intruder or walker, but before you could your body collided with something, or rather someone.

You cursed and looked up at the culprit; it was none other than Rick Grimes. “Rick, what the fuck! I could have stabbed you!” You scolded him, picking up the knife that clattered on the ground.

“You forget we live together?” He teased, taking a step back to get a good look at you. Your eyes were glassy and eyelids heavy — a telltale sign that you were drunk. Rick had experience pulling over a few drunkards back in his day as a cop, so he knew immediately without even having to smell the alcohol oozing from your breath that you weren’t sober.

You pushed a strand of hair out of your face, swallowing the excess saliva forming in your mouth. You mentally scolded yourself for drooling over a man, but this one was just too beautiful to not gawk at. The sound of Rick clearing his throat snapped you out of your trance and brought you back to reality. “No, no. I didn’t forget. I just…”

“You’re just drunk, right?” He chuckled, turning his head to look at the empty bottle of wine sitting on the dining room table. You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of your lip while trying to think of a plausible excuse.

“Look, I only had two glasses. Shannon and Vivian from a few houses down brought us a casserole and some pinot. Girls’ night. Sue me, Rick.” You slipped past him and headed to the kitchen, Rick hot on your tail. “There’s leftovers in the fridge, if you or Carl want any,” You said without turning around. When you got to the kitchen sink you started washing the dishes, but you frowned slightly, looking back up at Rick with worrying eyes.

“Shit. Did I wake the kids? Is that why you’re down here?” You turned off the faucet, wiping your hands hastily on a dry towel.

Rick shook his head. “No. Only I heard you. But you weren’t very quiet, and when I heard them leave that’s when I came down here,” he explained, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Your heart picked up its pace. ‘How much did he hear?’ You wondered. You pursed your lips and your eyes floated around the room, quite obviously avoiding his intense stare. He made you nervous. That sheriff always made you nervous, and part of the reason was because you were so utterly attracted to him.

Finally you brought your eyes back to his icy ones, which were studying your body. You blushed and bit your lip again — it was a nervous habit you could never seem to break. “You got a stain–” Rick pointed to the red stain on your shirt, just below your breasts, “Right there.”

You looked down at the stain, it was wine — dark red wine, at that. And you were wearing a white tank top. How convenient.

You looked back up at him, snorting in slight amusement. “Guess I shouldn’t have worn white, huh?”

He let out a low chuckle, showcasing his pearly smile. God, he was pretty. “Thought you knew better than that, Y/n,” he joked, standing back up fully to make his way over to you. Okay, now your heart was really beating fast.

When he was finally in front of you, face to face, you gulped. He smelled like the forest after a rainshower, and somehow he always did; it engulfed you like a tsunami. You berated yourself for getting so worked up over the smell of him, and just him in general. He was your leader, your friend. And he asked you to live with him and his children because he trusted you. Why were you acting like a cat in heat? ‘It’s the alcohol’, you convinced your mind, it had to be…

The silence was too loud. You had no idea what Rick was thinking right now; frankly, you never did. His poker face was always unreadable. But your tipsy brain gained a few confidence points, letting smugness wash over you.

“Whatcha thinking about, Grimes?” You shifted your weight to one leg and batted your lashes at the man in front of you. He only grinned, then glanced away momentarily only to stare back into your eyes.

“Y’know, I overheard the conversation,” Rick started, his chest steadily moving up and down as he breathed. One of his hands gripped the counter while the other was glued to his hip. Your eyes trailed up and down his tanned veiny arms, taking in his manliness.

“Mhm. And?” You kept your composure, not wanting to let Rick taunt you; you knew you talked pretty loud when you were tipsy or drunk but it’s not like you said anything negative about him or anyone.

“You girls like to gossip, huh?”

“Well, yeah. We’re women,” you joked, cracking a smile and trying to ease the tension a bit. “What are you trying to get at?” Rick never bothered to indulge in any girl gossip you, Rosita, and Maggie used to partake in, so why was he so invested now?

Little did you know, he was always invested in literally anything you had to say.

Rick licked his lips and exhaled through his nose. “Heard you talking about liking someone. Is it anyone I know?”

He smirked when he noticed how red you turned. Your face would have matched the stain on your shirt if it was a few shades darker. “I– I don’t…” Of course now was the time to choke on your words, right when you were using every fiber of your being to keep your poise in check. But goddamnit, Rick just had to be a sly and cocky bastard.

“I don’t remember even saying anything about that, Rick.”

His smirk never faded. You wanted to slap it off his face, then kiss the hell out of him.

He tilted his head to the side a bit, furrowing his brows as if to challenge your statement. “Really?”

You nodded and crossed your arms right over the stain. ‘Deny, deny, deny,’ You repeated in your head.

But he didn’t buy your bullshit. He brought his hand to your cheek, fingers barely grazing your skin as if he was afraid he’d scare you away. Your breath hitched in your throat and subsequently dropped your arms to your sides, separating your lips to say something. However, nothing came out.

“Well, I think I know your secret, Y/n. Answer seems pretty clear to me.” His voice almost came out as a growl from how low and raspy it was. Goosebumps awakened all across the surface of your body. You were tongue tied.

“I’m the one on your mind, aren’t I?”

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grimesgirll · 10 months ago

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rickyl x reader but with rare jealous!daryl

daryl shouldn’t be seething at the sight of rick’s head in your lap.

there’s no reason at all he should be thinkin’ about skinning his best friend. it’s jealousy at its finest.

he can hear merle now, taunting him. he wonders if his brother would call him a “fuckin’ pansy” or a “pussy” first. fuming inwardly all by himself on his recliner. the piece of furniture begins to feel like an island. it’s even worse imagining he’s just watching you and rick.

once upon a time, daryl got a kick out of seeing you get those pretty, big brain thoughts fucked out of your head for just a moment while rick splits you open. there’s something in seein’ you all fucked out, thinking about fueling the fire between your legs only. the legs that daryl often threw over his shoulders, diving tongue first in your paradisal cunt. that would be before rick rolled his way in and insisted he be the first to stuff your tight, yearn slick pussy.

merle would rag on him for that.

“aw, poor cucked, fuck,” he’d try to stifle his laugh but end up roaring in laughter.

daryl does the same thing he did when his brother was alive and ignores the thought. the thought of you can’t be banished from his head though.

no, not when you’re running your hands through rick’s hair and looking down at him, lips moving in sweet muted conversation that daryl is too green to comprehend. he’s feeling selfish now and wishing you two could go somewhere alone.

moments alone with you hit different now. they’re rare but they exist.

like after he and rick spend the better half of the night taking you apart from the inside out, and you and him sneak out to the porch for a cigarette once rick’s fallen asleep.

sometimes daryl thinks rick sleeps worse than judith - the sheriff is basically an insomniac without you. you’re the miracle cure for the horror induced nightmares. it’s like a good spooning with you clears his head, but daryl can’t really fault rick for that. he does however absolutely loathe the sixth sense the constable has for when you’ve strayed away from his arms in the night.

the man’s head is swimming at the thought of you in his arms when there’s a knock at the door.

your glinting eyes are rolling but you’re calling out for your guest to, “come in!” rick’s scowl couldn’t be larger but he fixes his face once maggie comes into view.

maggie looks between you and rick, even sparing a glance at daryl before attempting to stifle a laugh and clearing her throat. “i’m sorry to interrupt, but deanna needs you at her house to discuss important matters.”

you feel rick tense beneath you. barely able to contain your own pouts, you gaze back up at rick and he takes that as his signal to connect your lips one last time. shining under the living room ceiling lights, the two of you mash wantonly wetted lips. lost in each other, you don’t feel the pissed off redneck across the room.

finally breaking apart, you whine and rick almost scolds you, wondering if you have any respect for maggie’s image of you. when he glimpses over your shoulder and catches sight of maggie’s grin, he’s smirking. daryl wants to go out into the woods and shoot something.

“well, duty calls.”

rick’s rolling you off of him, leaving you with another breathless kiss and nodding daryl’s way.

daryl struggles to maintain a cordial face. this doesn’t go unnoticed by rick, who would’ve asked what was up with his typically mellow friend had he more time. the younger man’s more than relieved to see rick and maggie meandering out the door.

“dare’.”

damn, he almost forgot about you.

blue irises meet your dilated centers. the darkened, passion cast pupils beckon him to resume where rick had left off. a hand pats the patterned sofa.

that stirs him from his moodiness - slightly.

you’re assuming your position in his lap once his ass hits the cushion. hands gently wring around his neck until you’re sat firmly on top of him, gaze unmistakable.

“what’s goin’ on with you?”

startled, his breath hitches in his throat. his adam’s apple throbbing uncomfortably peaks your attention. you frown at him until his pink lips move slowly.;

“i feel like i haven’t even seen you lately, baby. and we live in the same fuckin’ house.”

your face falls at the words. “really?” you ask, wanting him to go on. the distraught look painting your typically sunny face has him not wanting to, but he does because you asked.

“you’re always on him, he’s on you. you touch me too and i know you love me. i know you like goin’ out in the woods with me but you feel so fuckin’ far away when you’re right there.”

“i’m so sorry, dare’.”

he’s quick to stop you. “it’s not your fault, baby, it’s not rick’s either-,”

“-no!” you interject, grinding down onto him by accident, eliciting a groan from him which you quickly apologize for.

daryl slaps your fleece covered ass lightly. “don’t apologize for being fuckin’ hot, baby.”

you giggle, leaning down to kiss him. he’s slowly but surely fading into this fairytale kiss you’re bestowing upon him until he hears another apology on your lips.

“baby, it’s okay.”

“no, it’s not.” you’re almost in tears now. puffy lips quake and purse. “you should never feel that way.”

“it’s fine, hon’, i feel better just telling you, an’ gettin’ it off my chest.” he assures you, playing with the top of your fleece shorts.

your eyes trail down to the drawstring of your shorts, and you wipe away a tear, revealing a yearning smile.

“would this help?”

daryl suddenly rolls into you, pelvis pistoning against the pillowy fabric of your shorts. he shrugs. “i don’t know.” he grunts. “maybe.”

you laugh. angling your hips, you dial up the pressure you’re coasting against beneath you when you come closer. daryl straightens to meet you for a kiss, succumbing to you, immersed until you whisper against him, “c’mon, i wanna feel you inside of me.”

daryl raises an eyebrow. “baby, i haven’t stretched you out.”

you shake your head, laughing. “you and rick already took care of that last night. you could stop fucking me for three days and as long as i’m wet-,” you get a blushed out look on your face. “-which isn’t hard around here.”

your lover’s face turns cocky. “you like being ready after being stretched out by two cocks?” pride laces his question. rick could irk him but he did love sharing you with his best friend more than anything.

that pretty little head nods up and down like it’s obvious.

“you gonna take me out and sit on me, baby?”

you’re nodding even more obediently now. falling into the instructions that have your pretty little clit swelling beneath your bottoms. that sends your hands racing to tug down daryl’s jeans, circling your hips as well to quickly spare a hand and work down your shorts. the sight has daryl straining.

“don’t make me wait, you know i can’t,” he complains with a kiss to your neck.

“mhmm,” you hum in agreement and tug down the waistband of his underwear, allowing him to help you with your peach pantone panties.

you involuntarily lick your lips upon seeing his gorgeous cock. the gigantic head primarily has your attention. has it always looked this big? you wonder. you want to take it into your mouth but the urge to give daryl that comfort he deserves has you hovering your already slick pussy above his hardened cock.

all at once, you let your hips descend and the first inch or so of daryl disappears inside of you.

“damn, girl.” the sensation has him crooning and singing your praise as you waste no time rocking up and down to develop that sloppy wetness on him - like you’re greasin’ a fuckin’ pole.

“mhm,” you whine. daryl’s awestruck face, scrunched from how tight you are despite your words, suddenly clears any stress or unease. he’s loving this, you remind yourself. an idea fills your head and before you know it, your begging for a hickey.

“huh?”

“a hickey!” you groan, bouncing with your hands firmly on his chest.

“then c’mere, baby,” and daryl’s clutching you down towards him as soon as you lean in. “i’ll mark you up however you want.” those thoughtful lips imprint into your skin immediately.

you gasp and wriggle against his loving mouth. he feels so wonderful, playfully bruising you with light scrapes of teeth and a roving tongue so well that your thought almost gets fucked out of you.

“want you to mark me up for when rick gets home,” you tell him, panting and squirming with pleasure on top of him.

length brushing against your walls which are flush against him like quicksand, those words are dangerous. he does his best not to fuckin’ jackhammer you to oblivion just at the thought of rick comin’ home to you all purple from daryl’s mouth - the mouth that was already obsessed with your pretty girl clit and taking a vacation between your legs.

“yes, whatever you want, baby.”

“ah!”

you’re not ready for the bite that isn’t as light as you’d expected.

“so tight on me.” daryl chuckles, suckling on the sensitive skin. “felt you clenchin’ like you’re ready, baby girl.”

“does my pussy feel good? squeezin’ you?” you ask, eyelashes fluttering.

daryl almost finished in you right then and there.

“course it does.” he replies without missing a beat. “what kind of question is that?”

the answer and the pace daryl is adopting has you seeing stars. heat is what you plunge into as you slide up and down on daryl. he’s dragging you up and down against him, hands burying fingernail marks in your soft hips while he fucks up into you and worships your shoulder.

the bite to your shoulder is what sends you tumbling into the tirade of pleasure that’s your orgasm.

on the living room sofa, you gasp and cry, tears falling into daryl’s hair as he takes a tit into his mouth, biting down. it’s a soft graze of cautious teeth but you yelp, startled by the pleasure and the spurting of warm come in your tight little cunt.

foreheads bowed against each other’s, you both find a rhythm in your breath - and each other’s lips again.

it’s when you and your lover are unsurprisingly making out again, once you take just a moment to breathe and pull apart, the question’s blurting from your lips;

“you know i love both of you, right?”

daryl softens beneath you. the hands on your waist rub languid, lazy patterns as daryl nods at you. “i do, baby.”

the twinge of a smile is on your lips until you’re suddenly remembering how you got to asking that question and straddling your dare’ like this in the first place. “but you shouldn’t feel that way.”

daryl’s shaking his head, ready to tell you that it’s fine, he’s fine but then you’re saying;

“how could i ever make it up to you, dare?’”

a million possibilities filter through his mind at once. there really isn’t an apology he won’t accept from you.

“how about a hunting trip? just the two of us.”

“i love your mind, baby.” he grunts, bucking up into you with that seemingly impatient, girthy rod.

you giggle in triumph, letting a pretty grin overtake your face. “alright now, back to where we were, huh?” you bear down to capture daryl’s mouth in a kiss, tonguing your way inside for just a brief moment before parting lips. “rick will be back from watch in an hour. how many hickies do you think you can give me before then?”

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twdxtrevor · 6 months ago

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Now this is what I mean when I say I like a man in uniform . .

#twd #the walking dead #rick grimes #andrew lincoln #rick twd #twd rick #ricky dicky doo da grimes #rick grimes imagine #the ones who live #rick grimes crm #rick grimes gif #andrew lincoln gif

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grimesthinker · 1 year ago

Note

my love I need jealous stepdad rick to rail me till I’m into subspace 🪽

18+, p in v, jealous stepdad!rick, sub!fem!reader

clutching onto your sheets as he rails you from behind, slamming himself so deep it's making you cry out at every thrust. salty tears stream down your face, thighs shaking from the impact. you desperately try to hold onto something, anything, but your mind is so fuzzy you can hardly think of anything but the way his cock abuses your poor cunt. but it's your fault, you both know that. 20-ish minutes ago, you were in the backyard playing the part of rick's sweetheart stepdaughter at the monthly barbecue your boozy mother seems to love to host. yet you love it too, because you get to wear tiny skirts and taunt rick in front of his friends. bending over when you accidentally drop a fork under the table, or biting your gloss covered lip when you ask them if they could use another beer. making sure rick is watching the entire time. he's got a bit of a "jealousy thing", you call it, while he says you have an "attitude problem."

"all it takes is a cock in 'ya to remember how to behave, hm? sweet, dumb girl." he taunts and watches your small hands try to hold onto the soft pink sheets.

"daddy, daddy-..." you whine, and he knows how far you're gone now, how drunk on his cock you are. he turns you over so you're on your back, and he lifts your leg over his shoulder.

"i know, honey, i know." he coos, and slips a couple of his fingers into your mouth. your eyes flutter closed at that, and you gladly suck on them "just take it, baby. take it." he rasps and you mindlessly suck on his fingers as he takes all of his aggression and jealousy out on your cunt to remind you who you belong to.

#rick grimes #the walking dead #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes ⛥*:･#rick grimes imagine #andrew lincoln

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wolvietxt · 3 months ago

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𝓣ENDER 𝓦OUNDS !

pairing : rick grimes x reader warnings : petnames, injury, implied age gap, lowk ooc wc : 1.2k

the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the dimly lit room. the aftermath of the day’s skirmish hung in the air - a tension that mixed with the smell of antiseptic. you leaned against the wall, cradling your injured arm close to your body, wincing every time you shifted. it felt like the weight of the world had settled on your shoulders, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of vulnerability that came with it.

“hey,” rick’s voice broke through your thoughts, soft but commanding. he stepped into the room, his brow furrowed with concern as he took in the sight of you. “how’re you holdin’ up?”

you shrugged, trying to play it off. “it’s just a scratch, rick. i’ll be fine.”

he crossed the room in a few long strides, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. “you sure about that, sweetheart? looks worse than just a scratch to me.”

you rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks flush at the pet name. “i said i’m fine.”

“right,” he said, unconvinced, and gently reached out to examine your arm. his fingers brushed against your skin, and you shivered at the unexpected tenderness. “we need to clean this up.”

“do we have to?” you protested, instinctively pulling back. “i can do it myself.”

“not a chance,” he replied firmly but softened at the edges. “let me take care of you, okay? just this once.”

his gentle insistence caught you off guard. you wanted to argue, to insist you could handle it alone, but something in the way he looked at you, mixed with that tone of voice, made you reconsider. maybe it was the weariness from the day or the comfort of his presence that made you relent. you sighed, letting your arm drop slightly, and nodded.

“fine,” you muttered, a hint of defeat in your voice.

rick smiled, a mixture of relief and affection flashing across his face. “good girl.” his words hung in the air for a second, and your heart skipped a beat. a warm flush crept up your cheeks, and you felt heat radiate through your body. rick’s gaze sharpened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “you like that?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. you opened your mouth to respond, but the embarrassment made you falter, and you could only manage a shy nod. “cute,” he said, his voice low and playful, clearly enjoying your reaction. the playful banter lightened the mood, and you felt a mix of flattery and bashfulness wash over you. he reached for a clean cloth, wetting it with some water before carefully dabbing it against your wound. you flinched, the sting causing you to bite your lip, but rick’s hand was steady and reassuring.

“sorry,” he murmured, his brow furrowing slightly as he concentrated. “i know it hurts. just a little longer, and then you’ll feel better.”

you watched him as he worked, surprised by how gentle he was. it was a side of him you hadn’t seen much - this nurturing instinct that shone through in the way he handled you. “i didn’t think you were the type to play nurse,” you almost whispered lightly, trying to break the thin layer of tension.

he chuckled softly, not looking up from his task. “ain’t that something? but you’re worth it, you know? can’t have you gettin’ worse on my watch.” his voice was warm, the sincerity in his words making your heart flutter.

as he finished cleaning the wound, he began to wrap it in a bandage, his movements careful and deliberate. “there we go. all fixed up. you feeling okay, sweetheart?” he said, his eyes sparkling with pride. “you’re a whole lot tougher than you look.”

“thank you, rick.” you replied, your voice softening, a shyness to your tone. the pet names rolled off his tongue like they were second nature, and you found yourself warming at the way he treated you.

“you just focus on resting now, alright?” he said, standing up straight and looking down at you with a protective gaze. “i’ll take care of the rest.”

“you’re not going to let me do anything, are you?” you said with a smile.

“not a chance,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest, a playful challenge in his eyes. “it’s what i’m here for, darlin’. no arguments.”

you felt a flutter of warmth at his unwavering determination. there was a comfort in allowing him to take the lead, to let him be the one to shield you from the harshness of the world outside. “fine, i’ll be your patient for now,” you conceded, leaning back against the wall, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

rick settled beside you, his presence solid and reassuring. “good choice,” he said with a grin. “just know that if anyone messes with you again, they’ll have to answer to me.”

“you really think you can take them all on?” you teased, feeling a bit more at ease.

“i ain’t worried about that,” he replied, a hint of confidence in his voice. “just don’t push yourself too hard, alright? let me help.”

you nodded, appreciating the way he cared for you. it was a new feeling, being treated with such gentleness, and as you sat together, you felt the tension ease from your body. maybe letting him take care of you wasn’t so bad after all.

“rick,” you said softly, glancing at him. “i didn’t think you’d be so… gentle.”

he turned to you, a curious look in his eyes. “why’s that?”

“i don’t know,” you shrugged, your voice almost a whisper. “you just seem so… tough.”

“i can be tough and still care, you know?” he replied, his tone serious but laced with warmth. “just ‘cause i’m a leader doesn’t mean i can’t look out for the people i care about.”

his words struck a chord within you, and you felt a rush of emotion at the honesty in his voice. “you really do care, don’t you?”

“of course i do,” he said, his gaze steady. “you’re important to me. it’s why i can’t stand to see you hurt. makes me feel… helpless.”

you swallowed hard, feeling a lump in your throat. “i’m sorry for making you worry.”

“don’t apologise,” he said firmly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “just take care of yourself, ’nd i’ll be here to help. always.”

the tenderness in his touch sent shivers down your spine, and for a moment, everything else faded away. it was just the two of you in that small room, and in that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of safety. “thank you, rick. really.”

“anytime, sweetheart,” he replied, giving you a small smile. “just know that you’re not alone in this. i’ve got your back.”

as the moments passed, you found yourself leaning into him, seeking comfort in his warmth. rick wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “you need to rest, you know? i’ll keep watch,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

“i’ll try,” you said, your eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion took over. his presence was comforting, a protective barrier against the world outside.

“good,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you’re safe here.”

and in that moment, with rick by your side, you felt more secure than you ever had. you knew that whatever happened next, you could face it together.

🌀 rick grimes : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @lemoanaid, @starpix

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

#jay writes!#rick grimes🎀#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fic #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes fanfiction #judith grimes #twd #the walking dead #andrew lincoln smut #andrew lincoln x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes imagine #michonne #andrew lincoln

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happy74827 · 10 months ago

Text

The Lesson of Reality

[Rick Grimes and Child!Reader]

Synopsis: You accidentally get a lot more “experience” than what Rick had planned.

WC: 3080

Category: Slight Angst, S6!Rick (no TOWL spoilers) {TW — Gore, Violence, Walkers, Blood, Death}

There’s so many fics about Daryl being a father figure that it’s about time that Rick had his Joel Miller moment (especially now that all the episodes of The Ones Who Live have aired). So have fun with this cute Protective!Rick moment.

『••✎••』

They say when times are tough, people can rise to the occasion and show their true colors. For some, it's an opportunity to prove they can survive the hardships and come out the other side stronger, wiser, and more experienced. Then there is the scum of the earth. They will take any opportunity to steal, kill, and hurt others while they try and make it out unscathed.

For Rick, he wanted you to be part of the former. He always saw your potential to become a fighter—a survivor. Hell, you made it this long by yourself, after all. You had to learn and adapt to the world.

And given your age, it was a hard thing to accomplish.

Your innocence didn't help, either. On one hand, he wanted to keep you as innocent and childlike as possible for as long as he could. The world was already a shit-show. The least you could do was still have the mentality of the child you were supposed to be. Being only ten years old, it was the right thing to do.

But then he remembers what the world was like now. If he let you live with that naivety, it'd get you killed. And it didn’t matter how intelligent you were because even if it saved your ass a few times, it won’t forever.

The fact of the matter is you were going to be hurt no matter what. And you had to be prepared for it.

He had already shown his own son, Carl, the harshness of the new world. He didn't want to do it, but the world left him no choice. And he couldn't deny the boy the means to defend himself and his family.

And even if you weren’t his kid, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do the same for you.

He just needed the right time to teach you… to remind you that Alexandria isn’t the safest place on the planet.

The perfect time came when the Wolves attacked the group, and the gates were broken down.

After all the tragedy and loss, and Alexandria started to rebuild and strengthen their walls once again, Rick decided then was the time to toughen you up.

And thus, there you were, sitting on a tree stump as Rick stood in front of you, knife in hand, and Daryl beside him.

Eugene was also there, but he was standing to the side, watching with mild curiosity.

“You sure ‘bout this?” Daryl asked, looking from you to Rick, brows furrowed in concern. “It’s good takin' 'em outside the walls, but now? After everything that just happened, I mean? The people need yah right now, man. And the last thing we need is for the lil' squirt here to get hurt, too. Yer already lookin' rough as it is."

"I'll be fine, Daryl," Rick replied, his eyes not leaving yours. “Besides, I won’t be gone long. It’s just a quick look around. In and out, and then I'll be back. Two days, tops.”

Everyone around you seemed to be on edge, with the attack on the walls still fresh in their minds. But you?

Well, you were too busy staring at the shiny, shiny knife. Excitement shone in your eyes as your fingers twitched.

Truth be told, ever since Daryl and Aaron found you alone, wandering the woods and eating raw squirrel, and brought you to Alexandria, you felt as if something was missing.

You had never been the most social kid. You had the bare minimum amount of friends at school. None of them stuck around after you were pulled out of school. You had no close relatives that wanted you around. No father figure and the only motherly presence in your life was gone before you understood the new reality.

And while there were other kids in Alexandria, the older ones were already too busy trying to act like adults, and the younger ones were too immature. Sam, the kid that had once been closest to your age, was just a crybaby who didn’t know any better. He was scared of the dark and the idea of a walker. He never went outside the walls, so it was no wonder.

It was like living in a house full of strangers. They were all kind to you, but there was something missing.

But the Grimes family? Well, you couldn't help but feel more comfortable around them. Carl didn’t seem to like you, at least not at first, but ever since the “Wolves” attack and sudden loss of his eye, he was becoming nicer.

And then there was Rick. He was always kind, but after the incident, he became even kinder. More attentive and caring. Always checking on you, making sure you were safe and comfortable. Something about that night must've really changed him because he's been different since then.

And you liked it. You felt more comfortable around him. You didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because he had saved you from a walker, or perhaps it was the way he talked to you, but you enjoyed his company.

You also loved destroying him in Gin Rummy. With the mix of his shocked expression and Michonne’s laughter, it was priceless.

Rick looked back at Daryl, who was still giving him a doubtful expression. But it wasn’t a no. So, Rick took it as a sign of agreement.

Daryl huffed and put a hand on his hip, shifting his weight to his right side. "Alright, alright. But if somethin' goes wrong, I won’t hesitate to tell ya I told ya so, yah hear me?”

Rick snorted. "Wouldn’t expect any less from you."

Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head, a smirk on his lips. He gave you one more glance, and then he turned and left.

With that out of the way, Rick focused on the task at hand. That’s when Eugene made his presence known. He was the man with the map, so to speak.

He came over and laid the map of the area on the ground in front of you.

"I've marked the areas of the woods I believe would be best suited for your scavenging mission. However, should your route take a turn, there are several alternate routes to get back. There are also a few marked areas with potential food sources, water, and the possibility of tools or other survival necessities.

"Thank you, Eugene. I appreciate this," Rick said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. Eugene smiled and nodded.

"You're welcome, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, Rosita and I have an appointment at the gate to inspect and repair the damaged panels.” Eugene stood up and straightened his clothes, and then he was gone, heading back to the gate.

"Ready?" Rick asked. You looked up at him, smiling, and gave a nod. Soon, you were off into the rusty car that Daryl had brought from outside the walls.

You sat in the back seat, along with the bags semi-full of supplies and some extra weapons. Most of them belonged to Rick, however, so all you had was your old baseball cap.

And, of course, the old switchblade that Daryl gave you a while back.

For most of the scavenge trip, it was peaceful. The occasional walker showed up here and there, but for the most part, they were few and far between.

You found a lot of supplies. Food, medicine, clothes, and anything else you could think of. Rick also made sure to teach you how to pick locks, avoid traps, and a bunch of other skills.

But, of course, as things go, something has to go wrong.

A group of walkers, about twenty or so, showed up. It was no big deal. It was a lot, but nothing you couldn't handle.

You and Rick quickly got to work, taking them out one by one. You had gotten good with your knife, and with some pointers from Rick, you were practically a pro.

And then there was Rick, swinging his machete, stabbing and slashing his way through the herd. His face was a mix of focus and calm. It was impressive.

But the problem wasn’t the walkers. You were both doing fine. The problem was the aftermath. When the last walker fell to your feet, a gun rose and pointed at Rick's head.

And the guy holding the gun? Well, he looked like a psychopath. He had a smile that sent shivers down your spine, and it didn't help that the sun was starting to set.

"Hey there. Nice work taking out those rotters. But I'm going to have to ask you to hand over the bags and all the weapons you have. Oh, and I love that baseball cap. That'll be mine, too."

Well, Rick wanted you to toughen up. It seemed the universe had the same idea.

Somehow, you ended up behind Rick, shielded from the man and his gun. Your heart was pounding in your ears as the adrenaline kicked in. You didn't know what to do.

Rick didn't, either. Not when a group of armed men stepped out of the trees and aimed their guns at him. He didn't even have the time to reach for his machete.

Rick raised his hands, but his body was tense.

"Don't," was the only thing he said. His voice was stern, a growl hidden underneath. The man grinned and laughed.

"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you," the man sneered.

Suddenly, all of them charged forward, grabbing the two of you. Your cap was taken, and Rick's machete was tossed away.

Despite the stronghold, Rick was able to kick and punch his way through his attackers. Even with the gun being pointed at him and the man pulling the trigger, he still managed to dodge the bullet and throw a few more punches.

The man growled, but the smile didn't leave his face.

"Feisty, aren't you? I love a challenge."

With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the butt of the gun against Rick's temple, sending him to the ground.

"Rick!" You yelled but were cut off when someone grabbed you by the hair and pulled, eliciting a scream from you.

"What a cutie," the man purred, grabbing you by the chin. You tried to pull away, but he held tight.

"How old are you, huh? Six? Seven? Eh, it doesn't matter. All kids are the same. Little shits who don't know their place."

You took that as a sign. You spat in his face. He didn't even flinch. In fact, the smile only widened. It pissed you off so much that you did the one thing that would definitely take a smile off his face.

You saw it done once, with a foot. A woman back in Alexandria seemed upset with a man, and she took her boot and kicked him right where you aimed your switchblade.

You weren't sure if it was a good idea, but it was the only thing you could think of.

So you did. And let me tell you, that was one of the few times you had ever heard someone scream so loud. He dropped you in an instant, unfortunately taking the knife with him.

“Son of a-!! You little-!!” Pain and anger laced the man's words as he clutched himself. You scrambled back, watching with wide eyes as he slowly recovered.

He didn’t dare try to crawl over to you, though. He didn’t trust his body to move.

Instead, he turned his attention to his side, where his small pistol had been tossed. He reached over and picked it up, pointing the barrel in your direction.

“I was gonna be nice… maybe have a little fun, but now?” He let out a painful chuckle. The smile was still there, but it was laced with anger. He groaned in pain, and his body shook.

Still, his hands remained steady.

"You little shit. I outta blow your head off. Let the rotters tear you apart, limb from limb. Would serve you right.”

Rick's heart stopped at that. The gun was aimed at you, and he was too far away. Even if he charged, he wouldn't make it in time.

There was no other option.

Just as the man squinted his eyes, about to pull the trigger, the sound of a gunshot rang through the air. It made the man jump and look around, right in time to see one of his men fall to the ground.

"What the-?"

You turned and saw Rick tussling with another man, the one holding a gun, who was fighting for control.

The man who had his gun pointed at you took the opportunity to shoot it again, but you were prepared enough to duck out of the way.

The bullet went into a tree, and by the time the next one fired, he was the last one standing.

And boy, was he pissed. The bullet once again missed his target, but only barely.

That was enough, though. Just enough to get Rick to kick the gun out of his hands before pressing his boot right where your pocket knife was still sticking out.

Rick had the advantage, and it was obvious, with the screams of agony coming from the man. He was on his knees, clutching his crotch, and Rick had a firm hand on the back of his head, ready to bash his skull into the ground if need be.

But he didn't. He had other plans.

He pulled out your knife, only to stick it right back into place and then some.

"Ah! You crazy bas-!! Fuck!!"

"You’re going to listen to me. Real good, you’ hear?” Rick’s voice was dark, and the man nodded frantically.

"Grab his gun and come over here."

You did as you were told, picking up the pistol and slowly walking over. The man whimpered, tears staining his cheeks as blood seeped through his pants.

"You're gonna stand there and keep your gun pointed at his head while I tie his hands together. If he even twitches, shoot him."

You gulped but nodded. You kept your arms out, hands as steady as you could make them.

“You sick, twisted, fuckin' asshole. I'll fucking kill you!" The man snarled, his teeth gritting and his face contorted in pain.

"That's cute," Rick said. He was quick to tie the man's wrists together. Rick was just as quick to grab him and force him on his feet before kicking the back of his knees and sending him sprawling on the ground.

"Stay," Rick commanded him like a dog, and you couldn't help but smile a little at the man's pained, angry expression.

Rick quickly gathered the supplies and the bag, and then he was over to you, giving you a once-over.

"You hurt? Bleeding? Anything broken?"

"N-No, I'm okay," you replied, voice wavering a bit.

"Good," he breathed out, and you noticed he was shaking a bit, too. Not enough to notice at first glance, but enough to know that he was trying his hardest not to.

He took the gun from your hands gingerly, and then he was kneeling before the man.

"Who are you?"

The man was silent. Rick didn't wait long before aiming the gun at the man's right thigh.

"Let me rephrase that. Who are you? What's your name?"

"Fuck y—”

Rick shot the man in the thigh without any hesitation. The scream of pain made you jump.

"Try again. Who are you?"

"Aah!! Fuck!! I-I'm Dave, okay? My name's Dave!"

"Okay, Dave. Good. Now, why did you attack us? And don't think I'm above shooting you again, or worse, so be honest. I can tell when someone's lying to me."

"We were just passing through! Saw you and thought, 'Hey, easy pickings!' Didn't expect you to be the goddamn terminator!"

"Passing through to where?"

Silence. Rick sighed and shook his head, but before he could fire another shot, Dave finally caved.

"Back to c-camp. Please, we have family. Wives, children… We meant nothin' by it! We swear! We just-! We were hungry. We were starving! Please, have mercy!"

"Children? Like the one you just threatened to shoot in the head?" Rick growled. Dave flinched.

"N-no, I-"

“Where are they? Down that stream? I saw your tracks earlier. That was you, wasn’t it?"

Dave's silence spoke volumes. Rick looked back at you, and you were staring at the man, wide-eyed and fearful, not of him specifically, but of what Rick could do to him.

Rick took a deep breath and then turned back to Dave.

"How many are there?"

"T-Ten. Maybe eleven."

"Are they armed?"

"J-Just with knives and stuff."

"You got anything else? Any other guns or ammo?"

"N-No. Please, just let us go! We won't bother you again! Just don't hurt me."

Rick looked back at you again. Your eyes were still locked on the man, but you could feel his gaze. You looked up at him.

"With that stunt, you just pulled,” Rick stood up, his eyes still aligned with yours, but he wasn’t speaking to you. He was addressing Dave.

"I can’t take that chance.”

Then the bullet fired, and soon it was just you and Rick with a bunch of corpses.

He quickly holstered the gun and rushed to bags left on the ground.

"What about his family?” Your voice was shaken. You had never seen someone shot like that, point blank.

Rick sighed, pausing in his movements.

"They don’t exist.” Rick stood and turned, looking you in the eye. “I know people like him. If he had a family, they're already dead, or he killed them himself.”

You didn’t break eye contact, “and if you’re wrong? What then?"

Rick didn’t even blink. "Then I saved them a lot of suffering."

Rick didn't like doing this, killing people, taking life. He hated it, really.

But he would be damned if anyone ever laid a hand on his family or his people. Even if it meant getting a little bloody.

You had to turn away from him, from the intensity of his stare.

Rick sighed and walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"You did good back there. Really good. The world it’s… It ain't kind to people. And even though I hope it never happens, you have to be prepared for anything. For anyone."

Rick squeezed your shoulder, and his voice was gentle.

"And, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."

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