#andrew lincoln oneshots

[ruewrote]

𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒.

PAIRING: dad!rickgrimes x olderdaughter!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: angst / fluff SONG INSPIRATION: half return by adrianne lenker WORD COUNT: 1k REQUESTED: yes

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you remember when the apocalypse started. you remember the screams of your classmates, of your best friend as she was torn apart by walkers. you remember going home and finding it empty. no mom, no carl, no dad.

the first couple of weeks alone were tortuous. no sleep and when you did you kept a tight hold on the hunting knife that you’d found in a discarded survival backpack in an abandoned car close by.

most nights ended up with you crying yourself to sleep, your hand covering your nose and mouth silencing your sobs. it was horrible, you hated being alone. well at least now you did. wanting nothing but to take back all the times you purposefully locked yourself up in your bedroom, wanting nothing more than to be back safe with your family.

over the course of a month you went back between the safe place you’d been staying at to what used to be your home. seeing if there was any sign of life, to see if they’d show up but they never did so you walked. not sure exactly where you were going but you did. sleeping in abandoned cars, searching for food and water in every house you could find.

it was a constant struggle to survive, but as the months went on you had only gotten stronger, less afraid. finding techniques to not get bitten, quickly finding out that it helped to kick out their feet from underneath them and stab in the head.

over the times that you had come across other people, it was mostly other smaller groups, you’d help them in any way that you could. 

your heart broke for the last couple you bumped into, finding out that they had their toddler with them too. they were out of food and nearly out of water, everyone who was still alive was struggling but you at least offered them your last pouch of squeezable fruit and a spare bottle of water.

the two thanked you repeatedly, wishing you well as they made their way out of the rundown shop, doing one last look around the building, really finding nothing before leaving too.

days turned to weeks as you stayed in the same pattern, kill, ration, sleep, survive. 

the food that was once in your bag were now just scattered empty wrappers and the almost empty bottle almost felt heavy in your hand, tipping the last of its contents into your mouth. finding that it wasn’t even enough for it to be a whole swig, making you quietly groan to yourself. 

the road in front of you begins to blur, feet faltering as you fall onto the concrete, knees scraped in the process.

trying to use your arms to push you up, nothing. slowly giving up as the black dots start to appear, that’s when you hear the echo of somebody’s voice? and the groan of walkers close by as you completely pass out.

when you awoke you were greeted by aaron and deena, explaining what happened and where you were. soon after you recovered they interviewed you, offering you a spot in their community and you accepted right away.

who were you to say no to a place like this? walls, food, clean water, all you had to do was do runs and protect the town. 

as the months went by you turned out to be a strong assent to the group, being reg and deenas right hand woman even when being one of the youngest adults there.

it didn’t take you long to get into a routine, making friendship with your neighbours, it almost felt like it did before that fall.

as much as you were grateful that you were lucky enough to find alexandria, you couldn’t help but think about your family. 

missing the way your mom used to hug you after a failed math test, missing the way carl would dedicate his drawings just for you, the way your dad used to playfully ‘embarrass’ you in front of your friends. 

your hands dig into the soil as you reminisce, plucking out the vegetables that were fully grown. well that was until you heard the slam of the front gate.

your brows furrowed as you pushed yourself up to investigate the new group of people that stood beside aaron. walking closer to get a better look, taking your gloves off as you did so.

even just by looking at them you could tell they’ve practically been through hell and back out there, the leader still had his back to you, but you could tell that he was almost sizing aaron up, it stopped you in your tracks when he turned around.

even with the big beard and grown out hair you knew it was him. “d..dad?” his eyes soften as they met your own, it didn’t take you long to bound up to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and his around your back.

sobbing into his shirt as you held onto him tightly, worried that he’ll disappear again if you let him go, “i didn’t think i’d ever see you again.” 

pulling out of the hug you noticed carl, “oh my god! look at you, you're all grown up now!”, engulfing him in a hug with a huge grin on your face. 

later on that evening you asked about your mom, and he explained everything. telling you about shane and judith.

you couldn’t say you were surprised about how shane acted, he had his moments when you’d once known him. you couldn’t help but be distraught about how your mom passed.

after a few weeks goes by and it feels like you were never apart at all, you had his back when you went out on runs together, taking carl under your wing since you were his age when all of this had first started. it was often that you looked after judith, she kept you on your toes but also kept your spirits up on the tougher days.

after all this time you were as close as you could be to peace.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[ialreadymadeyouapromise]

𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

coming soon . . .

[janiehellion]

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」

[lilgoblinbitch]

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?”

[dollyfl1rt]

warnings: none, suggestive

you often found yourself sleeping in little to nothing.

which, didn’t change when you arrived at alexandria.

the night would start the same;

you’d come home while everyone else was still out. then, you quickly got out of your “outside clothes”. soon after, you showered in all hot water to get rid of the sticky feeling.

fun right?

yeah that was the routine..until you were met with your stepdad while coming out of the bathroom as you jumped. “oh my god, im so sorry” you chucked.

“yeah i uh..” rick trailed off trying to look anywhere but your smooth legs. “didn’t mean to scare you” he licked his lips before looking off to the side.

you gave him a quick once over, noticing a few cuts on his hands and forearms. “i can get dressed and tend to those if you want” you shrugged with your arms folded across the front of your damp towel

maybe you were just a young adult or maybe it was your newly shaved vagina. you’ll never know, but something about the way he looks currently, made you wetter in already wet places.

“don’t think that’d be smart, princess” he told turning his head to face you “and why’s that?” you inquired shifting your weight to the other leg “‘cause im thinking stuff i shouldn’t” the man admitted quietly while looking at your thighs and collar bones and defined breast shape.

thats all the more reason to. “‘m gonna go to sleep”

you’re not. you had intended on going back to your room, getting dressed, then touching yourself to the thought of how your stepdad looked tonight, wishing that the hand in your pants was his.

“goodnight rick” you smiled innocently as he covered his front before walking to his and your mother’s shared bedroom.

[d3adlove1]

Lovers Rock❤️‍🔥

Summary: The story of how you and Carl came to be with a time jump into Alexandria. It’s late at night and you're at your boyfriend Carls's house and he plays “Lovers Rock” by TV Girl

(I know TV Girl wasn't around the time that the show aired so just like pretend)

TW: Mention of death, blood, kissing, and cuddling, use of pet names?? (just incase)

(Carl Grimes x fem!reader)

You and Carl were what everyone considered "puppy love" or "best friends to lovers" trope. Before you and he had started to date you two were insanely close ever since the farm when the group was looking for Sophia but instead found you. Well they didn't exactly find you, you had appeared on the farm, alone, scared, and splattered in blood. Your parent's blood to be exact. The same day Carl was shot while trying to pet a dear (which you still scold him for to this day) you were taken in by Maggie coming back on her horse from collecting Lori and warning the others. She cleaned you up and basically took you in as her own even though her dad Hershel was completely against it since she was only in her early twenties but over time you grew on him. When Glenn and Maggie got together he accepted you as if you were his own blood as well since you were nothing but a meek child.

However during your first week on the farm when Carl was on bed rest it didn't stop you from being the curious kid you were, resulting in you asking Maggie to visit the unfamiliar boy non-stop until she finally gave in and asked Lori and Rick if you could see him. They said yes thanks to worrying about their son being lonely. When granted permission you walked into the room slightly nervous but confident that you would easily make friends with the boy. You saw Carl fiddling with the sheriff hat his dad had just given him but when you walked in he immediately stopped and stared at you. It freaked you out a little but you pushed it to the side and sat on the chair beside the bed.

"Hi, my name is y/n y/l/n, what's yours?" you ask trying to spark up a conversation. You could tell he was shy, it was written all over his facial features. "My name is Carl Grimes" he mutters as he fails to keep eye contact. "Well Carl Grimes I like your hat", you add to give him some type of confidence though you really did like the hat. He looked at you again with a smile on his face, "Thanks, my dad gave it to me" he spoke clearer than before. You smiled back at him and spent the rest of that day with him talking about random things you liked and sharing common interests.

Since then you and Carl were a pair nobody could ever seperate even if they tried. To say the least, he and you had gone through thick and thin together, losing Lori and Shane, the governor's attack, thinking Judith was dead, the collectors, terminus, and the church which is where you two had made it official, but now you were in Alexandria. It had taken some adjusting to get used to everyone and the environment but you did it with Carl by your side.

Earlier today while you were on your watch shift at the gate Carl had stopped by to bring you your favorite snack. You sat on top of the gate on the lookout when you heard the ladder being used. Soon enough Carl was sitting by your side with chocolate-covered strawberries in a container. Your face quickly lit up and you snatched the container from his hand. "Um a hi would also be appreciated y/n" he remarks. You playfully roll your eyes at him and give him a tight hug, as you pull away you place a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you Carl I appreciate it" You look at him with pure admiration and gratefulness in your eyes. "Of course baby", he places a quick kiss on your forehead as you open the container and start to eat.

"Soo, I was wondering if you wanted to come hang out at my house after you're done with your shift" he questioned with a hopeful expression. "Yeah of course" you reply with a smile. Carl grins at you and looks at your lips for a moment before pressing a kiss onto your lips. "What was that for i'm literally swallowing my food", you respond with a chuckle. "There was chocolate on your lips" he states with a shrug, "I'll see you later though". He places a quick kiss on your cheek as he moves to the ladder. "You're gross!" you call out for him to hear. "I know!"

A few hours had passed and you were at Carls's front door. You knocked and Rick answered the door with Judith in his hands. "Oh hey y/n it's good to see you" his accent strong on his tongue. "Hi Rick it's nice to see you too, and it's especially good to see you Judith", you poked at her stomach causing her to giggle. "Well we were just headed out, Carl's upstairs". "Oh alright well see you guys later" You smiled at them as you walked towards the stairs, hearing the door shut. As you reached Carl's room you heard your favorite song play.

Lovers Rock

You couldn't help but smile as you opened the door to see Carl sitting on his bed with a beautifully picked bouquet of roses in his hand. You closed the door behind you and he stood up from the bed. "Awww this is cute Carl thank you but you didn't need to play my favorite song to give me flowers", you say as you wrap your arms around his neck. "The song isn't for you sweetheart", he says within the crook of your neck. You pull away to look at him with a displeased look on your face, "Then who the fuck is it for?" you ask. "Me", he responds with a low chuckle. You tilt your head at him still slightly confused. Carl's cheeks flush a light pink before he responds, "The song reminds me of you".

You smile up at him before he leans down to give you a tender kiss on the lips as he holds you by your waist.

"She might want a kiss before the end of this song".

Hii again, this is now my second post. I decided to post this oneshot before I post "Running Feelings Part 2" so that will be coming soon. I'm not sure if this oneshot is either too long or too short because I don't really know how to feel about it but I'm posting this anyways!

[shrenvents]

Haunting Fear of the Dead

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, implied (small) age gap, survivors guilt etc

Pairing: Rick Grimes x reader

Summary: Negan’s aftermath served as the last straw to instill in you, the belief that nothing lasts forever.

Word count: 1k

...

The conversation rings in the back of my mind, and your face dominates my thoughts. That despairing, lost expression still makes me wonder whether I crossed the line.

Life is moving too fast, and the overwhelming concept of inevitable death, and her vivid memory haunt me.

The idea, that you may see her in my eyes...

Things fall apart, and I'll never be her.

I knew Lori for no more than a week before she died. And now I've known you for several years, yet she hasn't left my side. Has she left yours?

Your wife and I couldn't be more different.

A troubled, younger girl, who can't help how unloveable she feels. How vulnerable I am. How susceptible I am to doubt. Versus the mother of your child. Your woman before the fall.

How can I compare? How can you love me? After this tragedy and loss, how can I return your love?

Maybe these are all the things I should’ve conveyed, but the moments gone, and I’ll never get you back Rick.

…

"If ya sigh one more time girl, I'll smack you," Daryl intimidates passively, and I snap my obscure stare at him below my post. Then, looking at the world outside these metal walls, one last time, I turn to the ladder. "Call Rosita, I'm tired."

"Nuh-uh, if I'm here all night, so are ya," He challenges, catching my gaze. He holds it before scoffing in defeat, obviously feeling guilty, after viewing my sorrowful appearance.

As I pass him, he grips my forearm. "I know things are bad right now, but yer a survivor," he murmurs, full of pity. "And if ya ain't gonna believe in yerself, believe in Rick." He trails off, and I nod to make him loosen his grip, so I may walk away.

Things just blew over with the Saviours, now that Negan is behind bars. But regardless, death plagues my conscience. How can I think my happiness is important, or everlasting when my survival is just dumb luck?

Ending things with Rick rang so much truth to that.

Now lonely and isolated, I only have myself to blame. Since confusion and indecision left my bed empty, my head is full of profuse distress.

To this day, after weeks, I'm still unsure of what I was trying to achieve -what I was running from, and why was it him?

No, I know...

I feel it again, her looming behind me. Lori. Whispering stories of their pleasant life together before Walkers existed.

Her ghost regularly tells me how life would be different if it wasn't the end times. She remarks how Rick wouldn't look my way if I wasn't his only option.

My rapid imagination slows to silence when I pass his house. I picture Carl on his porch bouncing Judith to sleep, and misery brutally latches onto me, forcing me to remember what is lost.

'You left him when he needed you the most...' Lori breathes.

Tears prick my eyes, and I bite my bottom lip to reduce its trembling. Then, a call of my name drags me out of the dark, and I seek out its source.

"Rick?" I reply, swallowing my cry and straightening my back. Blinking frantically, I assess him as he marches towards me, seeing concern playing across his features.

'Good things aren't meant to last...'

"How are you?" I croak.

"Fine," he stammers slightly, "you?"

"I'm well," I lie pathetically, and even though he clearly doesn't believe me, he accepts my response nonetheless.

"Shouldn't you be patrolling the wall?" He questions hesitantly.

"Yeah, but Rosita offered to take over, to let me rest you know?" I murmur with a shrug like I'm asking him to confirm my lies. He nods again, seeming just as awkward. "Need me to walk you back?" Rick proposes, motioning his pointer in the direction of my place. "No," I utter flatly, far too fast. He gulps, unable to hide his dejected manner.

A beat later I wordlessly amble away, but he hollers my name again, and I freeze, whirling around, brows furrowing. "Can I walk you back?" He urges this time, and his dilated pupils hold such fervour and desperation, that I give in. "Okay," muttering, I look to the ground as he jogs to my side.

Walking closely together, we're uncomfortably quiet. I peer at him and see his eyes squeezed shut as he inhales, expanding his chest to its limit.

"Rick?" I mumble. His eyelids pop open, and he swivels his head to mine, brows raised.

"Why are you," exhaling, "forcing yourself to-" I cut myself short, and he grasps my meaning. "I'm not forcing myself to do anything," Rick rasps. "If anything, I'm forcing you, to be with me," he drops my befuddled stare. "I'm sorry," he grunts.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I splutter as a wave of grief, racks through me. "I'm the one with problems," my meek voice gets choppy.

The pace of his legs falter. "Problems," he echoes, puffing a soundless laugh in disbelief. "Problems I want to hear," he more or less pleads. I faintly shake my head.

When I stagger, Rick stops moving completely, and captures my hand, yanking me squarely to him. I take in how alarmed his features appear and again, wish I was alone so I could cry.

"C'mon beautiful, talk to me," he begs, cupping my hand in both his palms, and when he utters my name of endearment, I finally break.

Liquid flows down my cheeks, and Rick, with his thumbs, hopelessly tries to sweep them aside. But the more his rough pads graze my skin, and he pulls me closer, adorning me with such affection, the more tears stream.

He wraps his sturdy arms around my smaller frame, tugging me tightly to his chest, and I collapse into him. He holds me upright when my knees buckle, and simply lets me cry.

"I broke up with you, why on Earth are you consoling me?" I sob, words escaping my mouth in messy bundles.

Sighing, "Because I love you," Rick's voice grows rocky, "and I hate to break it to you," he chokes up, "that isn't gonna change, just 'cause ya don't feel the same."

His statement makes a louder cry erupt. But, I struggle to muster the courage to dispel, the third lie told tonight.

Of course I love him.

"I'm here, always," he soothes, nuzzling his nose into the crook of my neck, and I feel water drip onto my nape.

As my arms encase his shaking body, Lori materializes behind me.

Reminding me, for the hundredth time:

I don't deserve Rick Grimes, and I never will.

[l0vergirlwrites]

rick grimes intimacy headcanons

warnings: mentions of intimacy, mentions of sex, some angst & fluff.

one of rick’s hands always rested on your lower back without fail. it had been something he developed when the group was on the road to washington d.c., & it continued during your time at alexandria. you liked to think he did it so he could keep you close. rick felt that it was just a precaution so he’d know you’d be in arms reach—just a little safety thing. he’d typically rub his thumb along your back too, knowing it’d make you smile.

your thing was ruffling rick’s hair. feeling his curls mesh between your fingers was always something you cherished because of the setting—whether you both were cuddling in bed, helping rick with his hair in the morning when the curls weren’t looking right, turning a serious moment into something sweet—it was a moment you could spend with him alone, not thinking about walkers, danger, responsibilities—you could just be yourselves & unwind.

“you look cute like this. i should get the camera” you laughed at rick as your fingers cascaded through his hair with a wide tooth comb.

“shut up” he scrunched his nose with a smile, leaning his head towards yours for a quick kiss to in fact shut you up.

you tended to rest your head on rick’s shoulder a lot, & he never minded. he’d often suggest you’d do it to catch a few minutes of sleep when you’re on runs, sitting through council meetings, etc. you’d do the same for him, knowing he needed more sleep than you since he was the main leader around here.

“hey, you tired?” rick asked, nudging your arm to make your eyes flutter open. you both were on watch.

“just a little…” you yawned, shaking your head as you inhaled.

rick would nod his head, motioning you to come closer, & once your head rested on his shoulder, he’d turn to press a kiss on yours.

you both would try to keep pda to a minimum when the group was around, but there were moments where you both would ignore it for the sake of the situation. a quick kiss before splitting up to complete a plan, quick whispers of “be careful” as lips brushed, wrapping an arm around each other while keeping watch, etc.

your first time having sex with rick was special. it wasn’t rushed or too rough—it was slow, loving & sweeter than honey. touches lingered, chests heaved, & all the sensations felt like heaven. you’d whisper sweet nothings in his ear when his head ducked into your neck. he’d whisper words of praise as he practically worshiped your body.

“you’re perfect rick, god—so perfect”

“that’s it, hmmm… good girl—you’re doing so good for me”

“i love you, i love you”

“you feeling good? tell me” “yeah—really good, just like that—“

you were known to have nervous breakdowns every now & then. when they’d bubble up, you’d try to go somewhere quiet or away from the group so you could have some privacy as you tried calming down. whenever rick was around to see you in this state, he’d excuse himself from the group, saying that daryl or carol would be in charge. rick would put a hand on your shoulder while your arms would be crossed on your chest. he’d ask if you needed to sit down, or if you needed water. if you said no to both, he’d gently pull you into his arms with one hand rubbing your back & the other holding your head against his shoulder.

“hey, it’s alright. let it out, i’m here. not gonna let you go”

“i got ya y/n… okay? you’re all good”

when rick would have breakdowns of his own, he’d hide his face in your neck & hold onto you as a lifeline—sometimes his grip would be really tight, but you didn’t mind. you’d run your hands through his hair a little, as well as his back.

“you can let it out—don’t have to be strong all the time”

“i’m here for you. you’ll always have me, no questions asked”

“we’ll be okay rick, promise”

rick would usually be the big spoon, but that would change on certain occasions, especially if he was overly stressed or ridden with grief. some nights he may not hold onto you too tight, but something as simple like holding your hand or letting your legs rest on top of his would be enough.

your favourite spot to kiss him—besides his lips— would be his temple.

rick’s favourite spot to kiss you—besides your lips— would be on the apple of your cheek.

[grimesgirlie]

Love at First Sight

rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: you’re an alexandrian, and you meet eyes with one of the new people at deanna’s party, who she threw it for.

word count: 687

warnings: none!

(second person, present tense)

Lucy’s pouring you a glass of wine. She brings the bottle up while pouring, and then brings it back down once the right amount of wine is in the cup. She used to be a bartender, before all this, so she likes to show off her ‘skills’.

“There you go!” She says, dragging the ‘there’ out, and looking up at you from you glass of wine. She picks the glass up, and holds it out for you to take.

Your slim fingers wrap around the neck of the glass, you taking it into your grasp. You put on a sweet smile for Lucy. “Thank you, Lucy.”

She flattens her hands onto the flat of the table. She smiles back at you brightly. “Anytime, babes.”

You smile again at her, before walking away to go find your friends. And maybe make conversation with the new-comers.

As you’re eyes are wandering around the room, searching for someone you genuinely enjoyed speaking to, because you’re not in the mood to make fake conversation, you make eye contact with someone.

A man you’ve never seen before. An attractive one, at that. You immediately feel a spark, and a knot ties in your stomach. Like butterflies. You look away, blushing over what you just felt.

You feel the need to talk to him. But you don’t want to do it directly, and possibly embarrass yourself. So the best idea you can come up with, is linger around him until Deanna notices, and introduces you two.

So that’s exactly what you do.

You start making your way over to them. Your footsteps silent over the chatter. You make sure to not make a straight beeline toward them, or look at them, so it isn’t obvious.

They weren’t very far from you, and you’re a fast walker, so you make it near them almost immediately. You obviously haven’t planned this out well, because now you’re just standing around and sipping on your wine.

Finally, Deanna notices. She latches her hand onto your shoulder, presumably (and hopefully) to introduce you to the attractive new-comer.

“Oh, Y/n! This is perfect.” You hear her voice and turn around to face both of them. You make eye contact with the stranger, once again, and still get those butterflies in your stomach.

“Y/n, this is Rick. Rick, this is Y/n. She worked at a nursery before all this happened.” Deanna informs him. You’re confused for a second, then not the other. You spot the literal baby resting in his arms. Even though you’ve been staring at him for the last 30 seconds, you somehow didn’t notice his baby daughter in his hands.

You snap out of your trance, and stop staring at him. “Oh– yeah, I did.” You advert your eyes to his daughter in his arms.

“What’s her name?” You ask, curiously. You’re unknowingly smiling brightly. If a smile could talk, yours would be screaming.

He adjusts his daughter in his arms before answering your question. “Judith.”

Your eyes go back to bore into his once you hear his voice speak. It’s deep and hoarse.

“That’s a beautiful name. She’s so cute! Can I hold her?”

He nods his head lightly, “Mhm.” He moves closer to you, so he’s able to hand his daughter to her. You hold her in your arms. She’s light.

You lightly bounce her, and Deanna begins to speak again.

“Since she worked at a nursery, she’s kind-of a babysitter for the parents with young children here. She’s a good one too!” She speaks, sneaking in a compliment for you.

You look at her and smile because of the sweet compliment she snuck in there. “Thank you, Deanna!” You speak gratefully. You always got giddy over compliments.

Rick opens his mouth to speak, “Oh, that’s just perfect. Great to meet you, Y/n.” He sticks his hand out, for you to shake it. He’s saying nice to meet you a little late, but you ignore it.

You unwillingly let out a small giggle, and grasp his hand into yours, shaking it. “It’s nice to meet you too, Rick.”

i might make this into a series, lmk if anyone would like that!

[ruewrote]

𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡.

coming soon . . .

[ricksswhore]

Dating Rick Grimes

- his hand rests on your thigh while he drives, you're always in the passenger seat even if one of the others comes along.

- His favourite place to have sex is in the bed (obviously) or bending you over the counter in the kitchen

- He doesn't have many pet names but he calls you honey or sweetheart occasionally, mostly when you're mad and he's trying to reason with you.

- He's not a big pda person, so he touches you very subtly and secretively in public, waiting patiently to get home.

- He loves it when you sit on his lap, especially when you straddle him and face towards him while running your hands through his hair.

- When he's angry he keeps a lot of it pent up, showing through his complexion and how he paces around the bedroom while you try to relax him.

- He's confident and trusts you enough to know you wouldn't do anything against him, but he sometimes catches you taking a glance at daryl while he works, and can't help but feel a ting of jealousy and protectiveness shoot through him.

- You, Carl and Judith are his main priority always, and he cares for your safety and happiness over everything. He tries his best to make a good life for you guys.

- He's generally a man of few words, but when you guys are alone all he does is talk about what he wants for you, your future together and reassures you that as long as he's here he will protect you over everything.

-When you sleep, he loves to spoon, or just have his arm around you. Sometimes, when he's had a rough day he puts his head on your stomach and you relax him by stroking his hair

[biscuitbox23]

Dead weight.

summary: you run into the woods to get away from the group, you were reaching the end of your life as you suffer from aplastic anemia, only to get stopped by Rick.

A/n: I’m not a medical expert, i have no familiarity with the field of medicine I am just an idiot who is a sucker for terribly made sad stories. This may be a very long opening to the actual climax so im sorry for that :( please do DM me for advice on how i can make my fanfictions better!

Warnings: inaccurate depictions of the illness, non-established relationship (rick and reader), mentions of death, angst, cursing. (Not much due to me being a minor.) somewhat bad grammar since English isn’t my second language.

words: 1.3K

It has been a while, well, a while since you had a good stock of medicine. You had been in an abandoned cabin a few months after the outbreak. During it, you got stuck in a pharmacy in Atlanta. The law was gone now, so you hoarded a ton of antibiotics, capsules, injections, and anything you could get your grubby hands on.

When Rick and Daryl saved you from a trio of men who were trying to take advantage of you, you joined them and did not stay inside forever, especially when blood stained the floors of your shelter. It was a mistake.

You wanted to stay with yourself, isolated from the horrors and sacrifices that the world has offered now. It was harder to find medication now that most stores were stripped clean. It was easier for you to catch minor fevers, and you tended to have more rest than the others in the group. The only reason you were there is because you knew how to survive.

In the woods, in the apocalypse, no problem. Whatever your dad knew your dad would teach you, he was an outdoor person and loved to forage different shrooms and plants. God knows what happened to him.

You grew closer to the group, helping them find food and clean water, scavenging what you can find in abandoned retail stores (even if it does not have much importance.)

Now you find yourself walking out of Alexandria by attempting to climb the steel borders to the outside of the wall, your head spinning as drowsiness has consumed you to your very core, yet you still have the urge to continue. Or else you are just dead weight. You had a few foot slips —you swear, Enid makes it look easy— but managed to get out. You can sense your muscles aching as if you did not even have the strength to pull yourself up despite climbing trees more than a million times when you were a teen. You needed to disappear 

from the people, the group. Rick.

Rick was a leader, for sure. He had all the correct morals and cunningness and looked up to him for it. You were no longer the person of any use to him and his group. You could not even defend yourself without stumbling down to the ground.

You were around when T-dog and Lori passed away. You 

remembered falling for Rick when you first saw him, only to discover he had a pregnant wife and a kid. It started like a rocky road. You were so used to the isolation that it took a lot of convincing to get you to come with them to the prison.

You took a liking to his daughter Judith. You loved babies. It was a surprise. You thought that you would never find a baby in this world again. Carl was the closest to you. You tell him stories about your life and would do the same, reminiscing about the world that used to be. He praised his father a lot and got a good idea of what Rick was like as a father. Hershel would check up on your health while Rick would stand beside the old sport as Hershel examines you.

Making your way into the woods, you stopped by a tree to take a breather. Your hands were on your knees as you stared down to the ground, crinkles of the leaves crushing on the bottom of your shoes. The night was cold and airy. The chill on the tip of your nose was evident as you took one more glance at the haven that shielded the real outside world from its inhabitants. The sour stench of rotting meat was not detectable and gave some fresh air — It is not like you cannot get fresh air in Alexandria. You want to be alone most of the time.

“thought I'd find you here." A voice called out, the voice echoing in your ears sounding familiar as the crunching of leaves has gotten closer and closer.

“fuck” you curse under your breath, “how did you find me?”

“Carl saw you tryin’ to climb the walls.”

“huh,” you playfully scoffed but was met with a chill and a cough, “thought I was being sneaky…”

“what're you doin’ out here?” Rick asks out of the blue, staring you up and down as you lean back into the tree.

“Rick," you sighed heavily, “go back.”

“I'm not goin’ back till you tell me what happened, y‘know that, don’t you?” Rick asked with a twinge of concern mixed with his southern drawl.

You paused.

“I'm leaving, Alexandria,” You rubbed your forehead as your stomach grumbled. Sliding down to sit as your back leaned onto the tree further.

“If this is about your illness we can make—“Before Rick could finish his sentence you interrupted.

“Make it work? Yeah, I don’t think so…” You retorted, “You don’t understand, Rick. I have a condition where my bone marrow doesn't produce enough blood cells, and I have no meds to help me, what are the chances of finding a pharmacy? A pharmacy where it has all the things I need to survive?” You spat, frustration filling your mind like hot liquid.

“Denise can help you, Y/n, you have seen her efforts in helping you,” You can sense Rick’s desperation to get you back to Alexandria’s infirmary. His voice remained gentle but firm.

“Why, Rick?” Your eyes stared into Rick's ocean blue orbs, frustration, and confusion, “I’m not strong, anymore. I can’t go on runs, anymore. I can’t protect anyone.”

“Because we still need you—“

“Maybe it’s you who still needs me, Rick…” You spat, leaning your head on the wood as you got the strength to finally stand up, with the support of the tree, of course.

“Y/n we can discuss this once we get back,” Rick sighed, coming closer to you as he held both your arms gently.

A rush of adrenaline painfully scours into your veins as you push him away with all the remaining strength you have.

“GODDAMNIT RICK, WHY CANT YOU JUST LET ME DIE OUT THERE!” You yelled at him. “YOU KNEW I WAS GOING TO BE A BURDEN AND YOU SAW HOW MANY PILLS I HAD ON THE TABLE!”

Rick scoffed, “You're giving up now? After all that has happened? The prison, terminus… and you decide to end it all here? Where we’re finally safe?” His tone wasn’t as gentle but it was now harsher, deeper.

“if you think more treatments, will change anything, it won’t. I'm done and I won't let you guilt me into continuing this charade.”

“then what’re you gon’ tell Carl, hm? That you’re sick of bein’ alive so now you’re gonna leave?”

“This isn’t about Carl, Rick it’s about you keeping me to fill in the gap of what Lori gave you,” you glare with poison in your very eyes. “Leaving you to care for a child that was never yours.”

Rick went quiet, as you realized what you had said, “i-I’m sorry… Rick…” you pleaded, holding his hands.

Rick sighed, “Maybe you're right."

You nodded, your breath becoming shorter as your legs finally give in. You feel your body starting to shut down. Rick helped you sit down comfortably on the ground. You were paler and had many bruises on your arms and legs. You were heating up again.

“I'm sorry, Rick,” you breathed heavily, clutching the hand he gave you.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Rick comforted you, kissing her knuckles as her legs trembled. Rick’s voice was shaky, almost labored.

“I don’t wanna turn, you can ask Daryl to keep my gun, you’ll need it,” You softly chuckled. Rick looked at you, taking his revolver from his holster.

“Get back to Alexandria, to Judith…” you smiled as you felt bile in your throat, blocking your airway and your heartbeat becoming more abnormal.

Rick gives you a final kiss on the head as an act of kindness and comfort on the edge of a quick and painless death.

—————————————————————

a/n: Hello everyone! This is my very first Fanfic and I thought about it on the spot 😭 Reading it for me makes me kinda cringe but don’t we all? Anyways hope you guys enjoyed it (cuz I didn’t but I’m a sucker for tragic love)

[lilgoblinbitch]

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

“you keep wrappin’ around me like that, i’ll put a baby in you.”

your bawdy moans and the way you tightened your thighs around his waist, and even the way your fingernails dug into his back with desperation — he couldn’t take it.

“fuck, sweetheart—” he slowed his pace and grasped your thighs with his rough hands, pushing them up against your stomach. “what i tell you?”

“please, rick, feels so good,” you pleaded, eyes hazy and showcasing your fucked out state.

his thrusts ensued, but his stare intensified, a licentious expression on his face. his pink lips parted as he let out a wanton grunt while fucking you into the uncomfortable mattress.

see, the two of you could’ve waited until you made it back to alexandria, however you had decided to wear the tightest shorts that day. and rick knew you had picked them out just for him, on the day you two went on a supply run together. how courteous of you…

so here you were, being fucked like the whore you were in an abandoned shack on a dusty mattress.

“fuckin’ slut. always gotta wear—” thrust. “the sluttiest outfits—” thrust. “aroun’ me, hm?” his hips rocked into your core with such vigor you almost expected he’d literally split you open.

your lewd cries echoed throughout the ramshackled house. his hand switched from the plushness of your thigh to your pouted mouth. “stay fucking quiet, or your pussy isn’t the only thing that’s getting fucked today. your mouth could use some attention, right?” he teased, releasing his hand from your mouth.

a tight knot started to form deep in your core. “oh god, rick, i’m gonna—”

his thrusts quickened, a hand reaching down to thumb your clit, pinching and prodding it. “not till i say so,” he demanded. your back arched off the mattress, hands grabbing at rick’s tousled brown hair. he leaned down to lock his lips with yours.

rick pulled away from the kiss. his hips driving deep into your cunt, and his cock thumping into your cervix. he angled his hips to aim his cock into the sweet spot that activated your climax. “cum f’me.”

without question you released your juices onto him, closed-mouth whimpers begging to escape your lips. your walls continued to tighten around him which sent rick chasing his own climax. “fuck, ohh—” his seed spilled into your drenched cunt as he rode through his orgasm.

he pulled out and collapsed beside you, dust flying around the two of you as his body made contact with the mattress. rick wheezed slightly and chuckled, waving the dust out of his face. if you weren’t completely out of breath you would have laughed along with him, but still you turned your head to meet his and smirked.

“so, you really like my shorts, huh?”

he sighed exasperatedly, side-eyeing you. “if i catch you wearin’ them damn things around me again, i’m not gonna go easy on you.”

you gulped. if the way he just fucked you was ‘going easy on you’ then, you wondered how much harder he could go….

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

[grim333z]

Uiscefhuaraithe~

carl x gn! reader

Tw: mentions of death and grieving. (Please lmk if theres anymore i need to add to this list)

"Uiscefhuaraithe. 

The feel of coldness only water brings

There are some things that no one teaches you, love

That come natural as a dream, you didn't know that you were in"

He breathes, looking away from you awkwardly like he's somewhat embarrassed by what he's done. The gentle flush on each of your cheeks highlighter by the warm summer glow, he'd never kissed you before, and honestly it didn't take you  by as much surprise as you thought it would, the way he paused and hesitated before pressing his warm spit-damped lips against yours, the hesitation basically gave away his intentions completely. However the whole thing felt natural, like the harmony of two early rising birds perched high in a tree, taking in the early summer warmth just as you and Carl had been doing.

He was never the most physical person when it came to sharing his love for someone, preferring acts of service as a sort of love language, keeping his eye out for walkers when the two of you hopped over the wall or cleaning your gun, sharpening your knife, handy stuff he'd wound up to be pretty good at, and sure you could do the most of it yourself, but it was nice, just knowing he cares. 

The what to your relationship was never discussed, it didn't need to be, you cared about him and he clearly felt the same way about him, and sure it was clearly a mutually developing thing, something the two of you grasped had been happening, and you never tried to stop it, let things happen, how they happen. So him kissing you, not much of a shock. 

Most of the relationship felt natural from here, the gentle linking of fingers on runs or the being whisked away silently by Carl, his lips finding their way against yours the moment you knew you were out of sight from anyone, drinking each other in. You didn't need to be taught, if there even was someone to teach you in the first place, everything was clumsy and hesitant, just doing what felt right when it did. 

However, nothing felt more wrong than the day you stumbled down the cold damp metal of the sewers whom lingered below the soil the community sat on, being used as a shelter from the raining terror of the saviours above. It wasn't a safe haven, it was barely safe, one of them could check any of the manholes see someone and every one would all be gone.  Spotting Carl sat limp against the dusty wall in a tiny corner at the end of one of the opening points to the sewers, the dust and debris falling through the gutter every time the Saviours struck, his chest rising and falling after each hesitant breath, like he knew it could be his last one; you feel your feet speed up without you intending to do it, forgetting the sound of your feet could attract a saviour from above and you could fuck it up for everyone. Just by the look of him you knew what had happened the damp glow of feverous sweat against his pale almost grey skin, the dark ring around his eye as he forces himself to look at you, half of you assumed it was the sheer effort of moving to meet you, another assuming he didn't wanna see you, didn't want you to see him like this. 

You lower yourself next to him, though his eye doesn't move from where you'd just been stood, he reaches down gently lifting the edge of his shirt, peeling back the square of gauze you could tell he'd applied himself, the medical tape slightly twisted and folded over at the corners, the wound is weeping gently, the small red grooves, clearly teeth marks sit surrounded by damp sweaty skin, it wasn't the worst bite you'd seen, he'd clearly killed the walker who'd done it before the flesh could have been ripped apart, that thought however didn't provide any comfort in the situation, he was still bitten, he couldn't save himself this time.

"I got bit.." He huffs breathlessly, like he's fighting with whatever he's got left in him to just keep going, even for a little bit, he didn't need to say it, he knew what would happen. You dampen your lips with your tongue, taking in a deep breath before responding, "S'ok, I know..." You attempt to comfort him, though you're barely holding yourself together at this point, his head turns to look at you, his fringe sticking to his dampened forehead, the skin beneath his eye a muted purple and blue, a mix of tears and sweat lingers in the dips formed by exhaustion, his mouth hangs slightly open as he breathes, shallow and weak breaths.

You don't dare leave his side, running your fingers through his hair as he speaks to His father and Michonne, explaining the extent of what happened, the letters he wrote for fear he'd miss the opportunity to say his goodbye, the sheer look of despair and almost guilt in his eyes as he forces himself to ignore the discomfort in his abdomen, and swallow the bile that rises in his throat as you speak to him, your words failing to comfort him, and yourself. He told you to forget about this bit, only remember the good bits. Though when the sound of the silenced bullet leaving the gun he'd carried the majority of the time you'd known him rings through the cold air as you sit with his Father and His best friend, the smell of ash in the air as you look at your burning home, the lingering fires scattered around, the sound of his arm and gun hitting the floor makes it final for you, you'd remember this as much as he didn't want you to. The burial is rushed and clumsy, none of you wanna do it, but it has to be done and you have to leave. You don't even get time to Grieve, just sat in the back of the van with Rick and Michonne as they drive to hilltop, working through Carl's passing together, they had someone, someone to look for comfort in situations like this, however you'd just buried                                                     your comfort, buried the one person you needed, you can't even bring yourself to cry, just sit curled up in the back seat looking down at the backs you'd haphazardly shoved in the back of the van in the rush of  trying to get out of their, his holster and gun poke out from where Rick had taken them, a small reminder of his boy. 

You did feel for him, he didn't just see anyone die, he saw his boy, his baby boy die, he heard it, he saw it, hell he'd buried him, buried all remnants of what he had before, his hope in this fucked world, his purpose. You almost downplay your own grief for his, there isn't a word for someone who's lost a child, but, you didn't really know what to call yourself, you weren't really a widow, you'd never even made it far enough to get married. 

You're the first to read his note, followed by Michonne, though Rick can't seem to bring himself to read his, he tells Negan about Carl's passing while you sit curled up with the note against your propped up knees, "I know this isn't what we expected, but like everything else we did; it happened, and it was always gonna happen. stick with Rick and Jude, you remind them of me, and don't let what we had hold you back. I believe in you and I love you, I know I should've said it before but, it was scary and I regret that now. The war with Negan will end, if it means killing him or not, and please for my sake keep going, keep building and growing, I saw how timid you were when we met and how brave you are now, it made me brave and I never told you. and please don't Carry this, especially not the end, not this last little bit, keep going, I love you, Carl."

Its poorly written and the spelling is off, it was honestly to be expected the boy hadn't been in a school for the most of his developmental years, you fold it back up slipping it into your shirt pocket.

Over time you end up moving to hilltop, growing closer with Enid, after the war it seemed the community's would start thriving, they did for a while. Rick working day and night to keep it going smoothly; you knew why it had been Carl's final wish and fuck would that man do anything to fulfil his wish. Though in the event of Ricks supposed death, the community's grew apart and their was some lingering almost rivalry between Hilltop and Alexandria, Maggie still yearning for revenge against Negan, completely disregarding Carl's wishes to promote peace, grow in the world. It drew the remaining Grime's away from Hilltop, you'd see them every now and again until Michonne started refusing to even visit, you couldn't just move back, you'd started a life, a job here. When they did visit you'd see Judith smiling up at you, her gaze gentle just like her brothers, the hat far to big on her head. 

You find each night growing easier as you move past, Carl. Though once in a while seeing his nervous gaze and gentle breathing as he hesitates to kiss you, the pause when his pale pink tongue dips out to dampen his lips slightly before they make contact with yours, and his warm boyish musk you can feel fading from your memory's, being reminded of him when you smell something similar, or the roughness of his voice you can't remember if he really had, or if you'd made it up in the time gone, or the fact you can't really remember if he did have that birthmark. The faded fabric of his flannel clinging to the edge of the door, you can't help but yearn for something to bring him back to you, even for a little bit. 

[d3adlove1]

Running Feelings Part 1

Summary: you and Carl don’t like each other at all and rarely see eye to eye, but when you get to Alexandria things change (Carl Grimes x fem!reader)

You've known the group ever since the prison when Daryl found you on one of his solo runs. You were making a makeshift memorial for your parents when he saw you. He was closed off at first and so were you. You noticed that the first day you met him when he was quiet the whole drive back to the prison, but what could he really say to a crying girl he had just met. When you arrived at the prison he saw you were a fighter which made him want to take you underneath his wing because you reminded him of himself, well the good parts at least. That's how you grew on him. You were almost immediately welcomed by everyone, except for Carl of course.

The first time you saw him you noticed the way he looked at you, with disgust in his eyes, as if he saw you as a threat. Which he did. He didn't trust you and who could blame him? he didn't know you and you didn't know him. You tried to make nice with him within your first week there but he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you and his buddy Patrick thought he was cool so he followed along with him obviously. They were the only two kids your age in the prison, Mica and Lizzy, and the other kids were too young while Beth and her boyfriend were too old which left you with the two boys.

As you walked up to them Carls's smile was replaced with a displeased look. "And what do you think you're doing?" he said as he swiftly picked up the soccer ball in the grass and held it with one arm by his side. "I was wondering if I could join?..." you respond a little taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. Patrick looked at Carl with an unsure look on his face as he waited for him to respond. "No", he said. You looked at him and Patrick for a moment before responding, "Well why the hell not?" you tilted your head at them a little as your anger started to build up. Patrick stayed silent but Carl did the opposite. "We don't know you. Just because you're the same age as us and were welcomed with open arms doesn't mean you're truly welcomed here, now go away" he responded clearly annoyed. You didn't want to argue so you clenched your jaw and turned the other way before you could say something back.

You decided from then on you would treat him the same way he treated you which resulted in him disliking you more than he already did. Ever since then you and Carl despised each other, from the prison all the way to the new community you were welcomed in. Alexandria. Yes, it probably had been more than a few years over the time you had spent with the group but that didn't matter to him nor you. When you arrived at the two houses the group was given you were thrilled to finally have a bed to sleep in and a place to shower. As you quickly walked into the first house with Rick and Carl you couldn't help but smile. You turned your head to look at Carl and he looked back at you with a little smile on his face.

Three Days into staying at Alexandria Rick finally decided to split the group up which ultimately led you to stay in the same house as Rick, Judith, Carl, Michonne, and Daryl. When this was announced at the group's "meeting" Carl was not happy to say the least. "what the fuck?" he said looking at the laid-out sketch drawn of who would be staying where. “Watch your mouth Carl”, Rick scolded him while giving him a stern look. Just when you thought the two of you were getting somewhere he proved you wrong. You rolled your eyes and walked away from the table heading upstairs to your new room. Carl watched you head upstairs slightly confused at your actions. Carl's room was right across from yours just down the hall. The thought of you having hope for you and him actually becoming friends made you feel stupid. All you wanted to do was spend the rest of the day in your room, not wanting to come out or face any of the citizens of Alexandria.

Two hours go by and you have folded up your clothes and put them away into your dresser and closet, organized your room around how you liked it, hung up lights and decorations, and placed a new comforter on your bed. You did all these things to distract yourself until you heard a knock at your door. You stay still for a moment not sure if you even want to open it until a second knock hits your door a little more hurried this time, taking you out of your thoughts and slowly opening the door. On the other side stands Carl looking unsure of himself but quickly looks down at you and clears his throat. "Hey", he says only a little quietly. "Oh um hi... what's up?" you say as you look at him. His face looks slightly uncomfortable as he parts his lips to respond, "Could I maybe come in?" he asks with a twinkle of hope in his eyes. "Yeah sure I guess," you say as you step out of the way for him to come inside. He walks into your room and looks around with his eyebrows slightly raised. "So this is what you've been doing this whole time," he says with a light chuckle as he sits down on the edge of you're bed. "What?" you respond a little lost in the conversation. "Well, this is why you came upstairs earlier right? To do all this"

"No Carl that wasn't the reason", you respond slightly hesitant. "Then why'd you just leave the table randomly earlier?". "Why do you care?" you ask clearly bothered. "I don't" he says as he stands up from your bed. "Then why the fuck are you in here?". Carl sighs and stands a few feet away from you "I guess I just wanted to talk to you" he shrugs. "Why would you want to talk to me?". He opens his mouth but says nothing. Shutting it again before looking at you. "I don't like the way we act toward each other" he says calmly before continuing, "For as long as I've known you all we have done is argue over and over again until we get too tired to respond. I'm tired of it aren't you?".

"Yeah..I guess I am", you say as you look down at the ground. Carl takes a step forward and you lift your head to look at him. "So how about we just start over? Leave everything in the past." You nod your head at him in agreement. "Okay but before we do that I wanna say sorry". "sorry?" you question, "Yea I remember when we met..". He scratches the back of his neck before he continues, "I was a dickhead to you and all you wanted to do was make friends with kids your age and I was so paranoid I pushed you to the side... I'm really sorry y/n" he said with sincerity laced in his voice. "Thank you and I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have been acting like a bitch just because you made me feel bad" you say with a little smile on your face. "It's completely fine, I deserved it, to be honest" his lips turn up into a smile. "so we're good?" he holds his hand up to shake yours. You smile up at him and your hand collides and intertwines with his, "we're good". Your eyes meet as you shake your hands together slightly.

As you shake hands with him you can't help but notice the gold specs in his eyes you had never seen before. The deeper you submerge yourself into the blue pools that you hadn't really noticed before due to always bickering with him and focusing on his faults, behind them, you see good was there. Maybe it had always been there. As you two were together in that moment, maybe just maybe, he saw yours too.

Okay, hopefully, you guys enjoyed it cause I spent almost a day making this. I think I might do a part 2. I also already have another idea for a oneshot so that will be coming soon too!

[l0vergirlwrites]

✭ rick grimes ✭

four words | rick grimes x fem!reader (fluff)

sweet morning | rick grimes x fem!reader (fluff/suggestive)

our moments | rick grimes x fem!reader (fluff/angst)

rick grimes x fem!reader intimacy headcanons

self care | rick grimes x fem!reader (fluff)