#rick Grimes x reader

[pxstelmxsings]

It is two am. Everything else is quiet, but for him and his precious daughter. The world falls asleep so they can share this rare moment. From sharing silly sounds, smiles, and her late night bottle. Come morning time he'll be called out on another mission. Will he return home by evening? No one truly knows.

It is five fifteen am. Her little hands reach to grip his shirt. His roughed and scared hands ever so carefully brush her tiy locks of hair from her eyes. He knows he should be rocking her back to sleep, but just a moment longer if bounding won't hurt.

It is two thirty am. He spots your sleep figure in the doorway to the nursery. By now, the daughter you blessed him with starting to fall asleep. He tiny eyes fighting the sleep away. Maybe she also knows how important these moments are.

It is two forty am. He finally settles her back in her cribe. Slowly, he backs into the hallway with you. The door closes halfway but not fully, never fully. The two of you share a warm smile before returning back to bed.

⋆˚࿔ Daryl, Rick, Nanami, Gojo, Logan, Arlo, Stein, Naruto, Kisame, Kakashi, Aizawa, Shigaraki, Dazai, Roy, Lotor, Shiro

[kathelovecatsandfeminism]

He's Rick

warnings: rick grimes x reader; angst with happy end; smut; a little of spanking; pet names; rick needs a hug; mention of lori, carl and judith; p in v; unprotected sex; confession of feelings; fluff; heavy eye contact; no use of y/n; The spelling has not been fully revised and it is always good to remember that English is not my first language, so be nice. I think that's all.

Night had already fallen over Alexandria, but unlike sleeping on the road, here the darkness was not dangerous, the dim lights of the streetlamps dispelled the darkness, as did the lights from the windows of some houses. It didn't seem real, a place to really live, a house to take care of and a comfortable bed to sleep in, clean clothes, vegetable gardens for the kitchens and generators bringing the heat of the lights, it didn't seem real after so much death, so much human decay that had passed before your eyes.

It also seemed very ungrateful of you to be feeling so miserable while others celebrated the blessing of being able to “celebrate” the life that walls provide. You still didn’t know how you felt about it, “normality” was almost a stranger to you now. Your mother would have said “ungrateful girl.” You didn’t like to think about her. 

But the sadness was there, settled in your chest, painful and suffocating after so much crying, eyes red as the tip of your nose. That was why you were standing in the kitchen, dressed in a pretty dress — a gift from Deanna — you wouldn’t allow yourself to be seen like this. It’s funny how the most subtle thing can make us crumble. So why?

…..ah grimes, that was it wasn’t it?

It all started with an innocent conversation, because the devil is in the small details.

You were invited by Deanna for a short horse ride around the city, a bureaucratic conversation, you always knew how to sniff them out at your old job, at home. The group was causing problems, no….. no, Rick was causing problems and you were Rick's right-hand man, it was rational to turn to you, wasn't it?

But again no. For Deanna it was natural to turn to his woman, because is this what you were, obviously….. weren't you?

She must have noticed the moment when confusion turned to realization and ended in disappointment on your face, because she - very delicately - apologized for the assumption, it took a lot of strength in you to utter a simple "don't worry". The ride home was silent.

An observation took over your thoughts, between constant escapes, arguing and surviving today to fight tomorrow, you never had the privilege of being able to think about the meaning of your relationship with Rick, worse, you never wanted to actually face what you knew you felt for him. There are commanding words of priorities in your mind that developed to find a home here, somewhere along that path the two of you became inseparable, to the point that seeing one could have found the other too.

You knew him from before the zombies, your father was an officer of his officer, you saw each other a few times and talked even less, he seemed like a good man. But now looking back he was always there, he covered your back - even too much - and you did the same for him. He helped him with the children, maybe a little more than the others. It had been a while since Carl had asked you to comb his hair, even with your fingers, it had become a habit and you knew who he was pretending you were.

Judith was still a little thing who liked to sleep with you

Rick helped you with your younger sister - teenagers are worse in the apocalypse - she couldn't help but believe in the loss of her parents and sometimes she was filled with rage because you hadn't come back to look for them - but there was nothing to come back to - she screamed and pushed you like a child, in those moments it was Rick who calmed her down, you never knew how he did it. 

Not that everything was perfect, you fought too and badly, two stubborn people when they thought they were sure of something. It was Rick who made peace most of the time.

 No matter what happened, one would find the other like a magnet, he had promised you that when your world fell apart and only he was there to lift it up. It was in his arms that you slept on very cold nights. Having him seemed right, there was something there, something that until then you pretended not to see. 

But did you really have him?

Admitting to Deanna that you weren't hurt, it burned your skin and the wounded pride created a balloon in your throat that made it hard to breathe, you cried.

For some reason you felt so small and ashamed, you didn't have the courage to question him, what if he thought there was nothing to question? just a good friend and nothing more? Your head hurt, because everything was so confusing, you weren't ready to see him again.

It had been a week since the conversation with Deanna, a week since you gave a flimsy excuse to Rick and Carl, that Michonne needed you close. A week since you ran away like a coward. It was in her kitchen where you cried.

but he's Rick, he knows you

So it was no surprise when he appeared at your door - Michonne's door actually - breathless and blushing as if it had been hard for him to come here.

"hi"

"hi" came out almost silent

You both spent a few seconds standing in the doorway, his eyes were so warm - even if more tired than usual in contradiction to the new reality that out of habit or a second nature of yours, you moved away so he could enter, there was not a single day that you denied him from entering your life or your heart.

You walked towards the kitchen and in silence he followed you as he always did.

Rick in the dim yellow light of the kitchen looked more handsome than ever. He had gotten rid of all that beard, his hair was still wet and combed back, with curls at the ends indicating that he had just gotten out of the shower. He wore a white shirt that was tight on his biceps, a little short above the waistband of his pants, a worn blue wash, he always looked good in blue - he looked younger - and he wore those damn boots on his feet. 

He was still as handsome as the day he came back into your life, a certain warmth settled in your chest. 

However, as much as he looked good, he also looked defeated, shoulders slumped and red, tired eyes with a big crease above them. 

Like when you finally recognize that there is something in the corner of your eye and now it is no longer possible to ignore that space, after having looked at what you felt for him, you could not ignore the desire to be held by him, to kiss the newly discovered skin, to hug him tightly.

Stopping in the middle of the kitchen, you turned around, putting some distance between you two. You expected him to break the silence and reject you right away, maybe that would be the “easy” solution, after that you could move on and pretend nothing had happened, but when he held your gaze with such tenderness and sadness at the same time, you quickly looked away, unable to accept anything from him, that was going to hurt. He took a step closer with his arm half raised as if he wanted to comfort you, but he hesitated. The truth is that he knew why you were running away from him like a wounded deer. He had insisted enough with Deanna to get a half answer and then it was easy to put everything in place. 

There was this big elephant in the room of unsaid things, where to start? Rick wasn't proud that he had placed you in a limbo of uncertainty, the dynamic between you two was so domestic in contrast to the reality you lived in, like when he fell asleep in your arms while you brushed your hair with your fingers after a really, really bad day and he didn't feel worthy of you or how despite his distraught state, his eyes always softened when they met your face.

He wished he had told you how he had come to keep Lori's wedding ring - a bitter reminder of everything he had been through - in his pocket because your expression would turn sad whenever you played with it on his fingers. 

Oh, and Lori... 

He couldn't protect her, no matter how hard he tried, it wasn't enough in the end, and then came the nightmares in which he couldn't save you, he always became more distant after them. Irrationally loving you seemed to cast a dark shadow over you, putting you in danger, but moving on without you? It seemed to condemn him to wander with a big hole in his chest.

He spent so much time holding back, as if his mere touch would make you break.

Rick was a cowardly and stupid man, incapable of giving himself to you, fearing the day he would lose you.

A stupid and cowardly man... a coward... a coward, he was already losing you and worse, because you thought he didn't want you.

"I'm a coward" came out without realizing it, he had assumed that serious tone he used when he took control of a situation, the southern accent was stronger. He caught your attention, but your eyes continued to focus on a point behind him, always avoiding his eyes.

"What?"

Rick took another step closer.

"I'm a cowardly man who doesn't deserve you" confusion adorned your face in the dim light of the weak yellow light.

“Too cowardly to admit it…..damn it!” He ran his fingers through his hair, anxious.

Rick looked disconcerted, lost, it wasn’t normal to see him like this only when his shoulders were very tired and he inevitably ran to find some comfort in you.

Seconds of silence passed, as if he carefully considered his next words.

Then the moment passed and his shoulders straightened.

He slowly approached you while you backed away like a skittish animal, he stared so intently into your eyes that you felt completely exposed. The slow chase ended when your back hit the kitchen counter, cornered, the proximity, how intimate everything seemed, your mind spun in circles chanting his name. That was one of the problems, he took you out of your orbit.

both of his calloused hands went up your neck to cradle your face, so delicate, now the only distance between your bodies were the atoms of air. his touch almost burned your skin, even if you were reluctant you melted with the heat that emanated from his body.

it was no longer possible to escape from those blue eyes, noses brushing, mouths open and tense breathing “It’s a broken world and you’re the only thing that puts it back together” he continued to rest his forehead on yours “til my last breath, I am yours because I love you”

Shock took over your face, never in your most idyllic dreams would you imagine this scenario, so vulnerable because he loves you. Love is too strong a word to play with. Rick wasn’t the type to play with his word.

“you love me?” you asked in a whisper, afraid of the answer, then he started running his fingertips through your hair, over your face, saying a silent “beautiful” more to himself than to you “I think that’s what it’s called, isn’t it?” he looked at you curiously “I always come back to you, even if it’s crawling, but I come back. It’s your face that my eyes search for in a crowd, it’s your opinion that I seek before any decision, it’s your smile that makes all this mess worth it, it’s another reason to survive and when I see you with the children….. God, it’s like coming back to a home I didn’t know I had, it seems almost immoral to have this at the end of the world… I’m afraid the universe is waiting for me to take what I want just to take it from me, believe me, I couldn’t go on without you. So yes, I love you.”

You knew many things about Rick, how he likes his drink, about his grandfather in the war, about how to read his gestures, but mainly that he was a man with a good and kind heart and above all honest.

The light made your eyes bigger and brighter with the tears that were now flowing, which were becoming a sob and then a loud cry, but it was okay, he is Rick, he knows you, so smiling and sighing a “come here” he held you tight in his arms, wetting his shirt. Slowly he adorned the top of your head with kisses, reducing the crying, the tears gave way to a big smile. You pulled away so you could look into his eyes, which to your surprise were also teary, but he smiled broadly, both of you sharing a look.

 Silence fell in the room, but it was light and calm, of accomplices who had shared something very sacred. Rick took one of her hands and lifted it into the air as if preparing for a waltz. “In a perfect world, I would have told you this after a fancy dinner and taken you dancing.” You couldn’t help but smile, he was always an old-fashioned guy. 

“I like to dance.”

 “I know.” Using the hand that was in the air, he spun you around in his arms. 

“You always know.” It was like being a little girl again, cheeks burning and all. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, humming in agreement. 

“You should.”

In the blink of an eye, he had you in a very tender and deep kiss, as if he regretted all the kisses he had wanted to give you but couldn't. It didn't take long for him to become fiercer, hungrier, his hands were clenched in the back of his shirt, as if he was afraid the moment would evaporate like a dream.

Testing the waters, one of Rick's hands went down to your hip, gently, but giving it a light squeeze. You sighed, there was a hunger in you that was no longer possible to contain

"Take me to the room, please" you asked slyly

"Yes, ma'am" and as if you weighed nothing he picked you up and you wrapped yourself around his hips, sharing small kisses as you went up the stairs. Between kisses, you found yourselves unable to hold back your giggles, it was good.

Entering your room, he carefully laid you down on the bed and for a brief minute just kept looking at you as if he needed to convince himself that this was real, that something good and beautiful could be born in such a vile world. The moment was only broken when you extended your hand inviting him. Gratefully, he took off his white shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room and lay down between your legs.

 It was strange to be like this with him, but at the same time so familiar, as if it were right. You pulled him in for another hungry kiss with tongues, teeth and all, running your fingertips over the muscles of his back, pressing him against you. He moaned into your mouth, needing his hips against yours, eliciting a moan from you. 

He went down to your neck, distributing wet kisses to soothe the marks he was leaving - something intimate in him liked the idea of ​​claiming you publicly - going down to your collarbone and only stopping over the bust of your dress, searching your eyes in a silent request. He laughed at the intensity with which you nodded. 

He made sure to lower the straps very slowly, but it didn't take long for him to grab one of her breasts as soon as they were exposed. While he licked and sucked one, he played with the tip of the other with his fingers. When he was satisfied, he reversed the order.

By now you were a mess of moans and whimpers, rubbing against him in search of any friction. 

That day Rick discovered many things about you: first, you were loud - a pleasant surprise -; and second, you were sensitive as hell and he was going to take advantage of that.

He continued to move down your body, trailing chaste kisses along your clothed belly, nibbling on your dress, lingering on your lower abdomen while one of his hands lovingly brushed the skin on the inside of one of your thighs, almost reaching where you wanted, but pulling back just in time. He came back to my eye level "do you want to be good for me?" Oh, he wished he had a camera to capture your reaction, all blushing and goosebumps. Third thing - although he already suspected that.

No answer. Then the hand on your inner thigh went straight to your clothed center, taking you by surprise “baby, talk to me”

Your brain was already so far away and started to nod and only then remembered to answer “I want” clearly satisfied with the answer he got up from the bed, you almost protested against the loss of contact but when he pulled your legs to the edge of the bed and knelt between them, you already knew it was over

“this comes off” you lifted your hips so he could take off your panties “and this stays here for now” he bunched your dress at your waist.

You already knew you were very wet but when the cold air of the room hit you and Rick ate you with his eyes even more blush painted your skin.

 He brought his lips closer to your pussy, blowing only to see you squirm, smiling satisfied with the result. He looked at you with such hunger, you couldn't hold his gaze, but more knowing than you were his hand leaving a slap on your right thigh. When you turned your eyes to him it was clear on his face, pupils dilated in a stern look, jaw clenched, don't do that again. 

So you did... or tried to because when he gave a first slow and long lick between your folds by instinct your head fell back before you could come to, another slap, on your left thigh now. 

Damn bastard Rick Grimes

Leaning on your elbows, you looked at him again, trembling with desire as he sucked your clit with just the right amount of pressure. You were already high at this point because Rick would eat you out like a starving man. After a few more licks, two thick fingers poked your entrance, smearing themselves with your arousal and, to torture you, as a final blow, he inserted them while he curved them, hitting that exact spot - it was so different from yours, better, bigger and they were Rick's - and he went back to sucking on your spot. Thank God no one was home because you looked pathetic in his hands.

All you could think about was the pressure and the heat and the unfolding and growing in your belly, it was too much. Your back arched, your toes curled as you were a mess, reciting his name like a prayer

Rick…….Rick…….Rick

When his big hand reached for yours to hold while he pressed it against your hip to keep you in place while he intensified his actions until your peak reached you and you rode him fucking Rick's face

you came hard and loud, singing his name

he made sure to take every drop of you until overstimulation. When he got up from the floor, you could barely support yourself on your elbows to look at him. He licked his lips like after a good meal. Sucking his fingers and letting out a "sweet" he rested one of his knees on the bed and pulled you by the torso like a rag doll - very soft now - making you sit up "arms up" and he removed the dress over your head. He seemed so careful "good girl" he says and you couldn't help but tremble at those words, you wanted him inside you SO MUCH, so your hands flew to undo his belt and pants

"anxious?" oh that cheeky smile would kill you

“you have no idea”

“Ah….I can imagine, hon” he finished by giving a sweet kiss on the top of your head

When he stepped out of his pants and you were face to face with his red, veiny cock, already weeping with pre-cum. You wanted to feel the weight of it on your tongue - another time perhaps because you could swear you would start crying if you didn't feel him inside you soon.

You lay on your back in the center of the bed, spreading your legs wide for him. If you looked like the hot mess you felt, you would be lost.

He asked for your hand and you gave in. When he placed himself between your legs it was as if he belonged nowhere else than here, with you. He spent a minute hovering over your body, his eyes examining you, recording every detail, you were a very beautiful mess. He kissed you again, less hurriedly but equally hungry, his tongue playing knowingly with yours, biting your lips, pulling you towards him.

Anxiously, you tried to rub your hips against his - of course he noticed - he took your hand in his and placed it on his cock - you couldn't resist and applied some pressure, he shuddered.

With his hand on yours controlling the movement he brought the tip to your folds and played with them, making you squirm with anticipation, lubricating you well, threatening to enter. It was only after you called his name tearfully that he thought you had suffered enough, but Rick couldn't contain himself, he wanted to engrave this moment very well in his memory. You were all open on the bed for him, whimpering his name, you became very gentle in his hands, it was fascinating.

You had your heads together, staring at the spot that connected you when he finally entered you, both of you letting out a long sigh. He slowly went all the way in, until you felt his balls pressed against your ass - and god you could feel every bit of him, that stretch, filling you up just right - only for him to pull back almost all the way out and slam back into you harder. “look at me, baby” he called your attention.

Rick was an eye contact guy and you did your best to maintain it as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. He built a steady, deep, passionate rhythm, hitting that spot that made your brain short out every time, your back arched, you wrapped your legs around his waist, skin to skin, hot, sweaty, your hips racing to meet his. You smiled victoriously when he buried his nose in your neck and started moaning in your ear, your knot was tightening.

The temperature of the room had increased, a mixture of sounds of skin slapping, your meaningless pleas in the cloud of pleasure, Rick who will now return to mark your neck to suppress his own moans.

“Rick….please….please” you didn’t know what you were asking for but he is Rick, he knows you. his face came out of hiding in your hair, he gave you a quick kiss on the lips and pushed your knees against your chest, the new angle would be the death of you and by Rick’s state his too whose thrusts began to become erratic. You were very close to the edge, on the border between pleasure and consciousness and when Rick began to make circles on your clit you took his mouth in yours suppressing a loud moan as you came, your vision going white. Rick came soon after by the way you were squeezing him as you came down from your high. He may have drawn blood from your lips when he bit your lip as he released long, thick loads of semen inside you draining you of every last drop. He remained inside you even after he softened, the state of euphoria preventing you from thinking about the consequences.

You both collapsed together, it was a comforting feeling to feel his weight against you, you felt safe.

When his attention turned to study your face again, he looked calm, relaxed, happy - something very hard to see - he had such loving eyes and they looked at you, he took his time like that, serious, focused. You would never know, but in that intimate moment he made a promise, he would not allow anything or anyone to hurt you, he would not allow it. He knew you could handle it, you had already proven yourself many times, but you were still the woman he loved and nothing else mattered

it was you who took him out of the sea of ​​their thoughts

“hey, rick”

“hm”

“I love you too”

“yeah?”

“yeah”

He smiled broadly, inverting the position of the two and brought the back of his hand to sprinkle kisses there, that tender gesture made you smile. Rick was yours.

.....................................................

Today had been a long day of work in the city, the kind where you pretend you didn't notice you were taking a little longer to shower. It was the first place you went after getting home, the murder house - your house - that fact still made you smile at nothing. Before going into the bathroom to shower, you passed Carl and a small blond head heading out, in a hurry but not enough.

"Should I worry, Carl?" Dusk was slowly falling outside.

"No, no, Carol's new recipe."

"Where's your dad?"

"Daryl," the boy shouted over his shoulder. You answered with a low "Okay," too tired to think about it now. Right after the door slammed.

Okay, you may have taken too long because when you came out of the bathroom there was a dress on the bed, the one Rick liked to take off. Half curious, half suspicious, you put it on and went downstairs to get something to eat. Most of the lights downstairs were off except for the ones in the kitchen. You walked there, only to find a very well-dressed Rick - a button-down shirt with the tops open and black jeans - dinner on the table and a humble flower in his hand. “Rick” you called affectionately, tilting your head to the side with a smile on your face you were walking towards him but he stopped you in the middle of the way with a signal to stop, you don’t know exactly where he was hiding, but suddenly a melody started playing through the room, he came back shyly, took your hands in his, still holding the flower and you started dancing alone in the kitchen and you don’t remember feeling so loved because he's rick, he knows you

[baby-blue-skyy]

Too Sweet // R. Grimes (TWD) Part 2

Second part of: Too Sweet

I’m still getting familiar with writing on Tumblr, it’s going to take time to get used to, but I am determined to keep up this little series. Feel free to give me suggestions, ideas and feedback! Once I get a little more experience on here I will definitely be taking requests!

Warning: age gap, smoking

Summary: After arriving in Alexandria, Rick is still on high alert, uncertainty about the people who live within the walls of his new, unfamiliar home. But one person has caught his attention.

•••

It had been a few days since Rick's awkward encounter with Daisy. Days filled with constant vigilance and a haunting undercurrent of thoughts he couldn't quite shake. It wasn't that he wanted to dwell on her—he had more important things on his mind. His group needed him. He had a job to do. But every time he tried to focus on something else, her smile, the way her presence had thrown him off balance, was all he could think about.

The only thing that had given him some relief was that he hadn't seen her again. Maybe she was just a distraction. Maybe she was a complication he didn't need in his life. Rick didn't know, but he was trying not to care.

Then, Josh showed up—the next day as promised.

Rick hadn’t expected to meet him so early in the morning, and honestly, he didn't care to. The second Rick opened the door to find Josh standing there with a bag of clothes for Judith, his first instinct was to size him up—and Josh didn't pass the test.

The guy was a walking contradiction. Tall, built like a man who thought he could outfight anything—if only he wasn't too busy looking at himself in every reflective surface. His eyes were too sharp, his smile too wide, his words too loud. Every word that came out of his mouth was like a hammer, like he was so sure of his own importance that he couldn't help but drag the conversation on longer than necessary.

Josh talked about everything: his old life, his job (before the world ended, of course), the way he used to pick up chicks in the old world. Rick didn't care about any of it, but Josh didn't seem to notice Rick's lack of interest. Rick's gaze kept flicking to the side, his thoughts constantly returning to the discomfort of being this close to someone so... self-absorbed.

Josh made a big show of how "lucky" Rick was to be living in Alexandria. Of course, he didn't know Rick's situation, didn't understand the kind of weight he carried. Josh was the kind of guy who had probably always gotten what he wanted, with little effort. And Rick hated it. He hated the way Josh assumed everything was easy, the way his words filled the room like noise that had no purpose.

But Rick smiled thinly and nodded, trying to keep it together. He didn't trust Josh. And if he were being honest, he didn't trust anyone in Alexandria.

The day had drifted into the afternoon, the sun still high in the sky, but Rick couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him. The police uniform felt wrong against his skin. It was new, crisp, and clean, and he hadn't worn a uniform in a long time. It was a reminder of who he used to be. But it didn't make him feel any more like the man he once was.

He was supposed to patrol, to keep the streets secure. But instead, his eyes darted everywhere, scanning for any sign of trouble, any sign that this place wasn't as perfect as it seemed. Alexandria was a different world, but that didn't mean it was safe. Not yet. Not until he figured out exactly what was going on here.

Rick walked the streets, his steps heavy, his mind preoccupied with a thousand things—his group, the community, the job he had to do. He found himself circling back—his steps falling directly infront of his home. But something caught his eye. Something, or rather someone.

It was her.

She sat on her front porch, casually holding a cigarette between her fingers, exhaling thin streams of smoke into the air. She sat in a white wicker chair—her legs pressed to her chest—her eyes were fixed on something beyond him, but when Rick's gaze met hers, it felt like a jolt of electricity shot through him.

The moment dragged out, and Rick stood still for a few beats, watching her. He hadn't expected to see her again, regardless of the close proximity of living courters they shared. She wasn't like anyone else in Alexandria. She didn't belong to this world in the way the others did. Her beauty was like an ache he didn't know how to place, and every time he let himself think about it, it made him feel exposed, vulnerable.

She had a toddler with her, a little girl playing on the steps with chalk, oblivious to the world around her, drawing swirls and shapes on the pavement with innocent joy.

Rick swallowed, trying to calm the sudden rush of adrenaline that coursed through him. His mind screamed at him to keep walking, to focus on his patrol. But before he could stop himself, his feet were moving toward her. There was no logical reason for it—no good reason at all.

His legs felt heavy as he approached the porch, the quiet creak of the boards beneath his boots amplifying in the otherwise still air.

He wasn't sure why he'd walked over there. It wasn't like him. He didn't go looking for distractions. But her presence—her softness—had drawn him in, like a magnet.

"Thank you," He rasped, his fingers flexing at his sides. "For the clothes," he said, the words coming out without thought.

Daisy's eyes snapped to him, quick and sharp, like she hadn't expected him to be standing there. She inhaled deeply, the smoke from her cigarette curling around her in thin, lazy spirals. She studied him for a moment, her lips parting slightly as if deciding how to respond.

"No problem at all," she said, her voice lighter than he remembered, a hint of something playful in her tone. "How're you settling in?"

Rick nodded, trying to shake the odd feeling crawling up his spine. "Good," he muttered, his eyes drifting involuntarily to the toddler, still absorbed in her drawings. The little girl's chubby fingers worked furiously at the colorful chalk, oblivious to the world around her. Rick felt something stir in him—some quiet ache that had nothing to do with the apocalypse and everything to do with the future.

But his thoughts were immediately pulled back to Daisy as she untangled herself from the chair with a fluidity that was too easy, too graceful for the world they now lived in. It shouldn't have been so disorienting, but it was. She stood a couple steps above him, her proximity—so close to him—it should not have made him feel so... nervous.

He forced his eyes back to her face, but his focus wavered when the faint scent of vanilla and stale cigarette smoke wrapped around him like a blanket, invading his senses and pulling him deeper into the haze of her presence.

It was strange. The smell. He hadn't thought about it in so long—vanilla, perfume, something soft. It hit him in waves, disorienting him. He hadn't smelled something that normal in a long time. A sharp rush of dizziness caught him, and for a moment, he didn't know whether it was the world shifting beneath his feet or just the effect of her.

She moved down another step, the faintest rustle of fabric—the oversized t-shirt she accompanied brushing her thighs. It shouldn't have made him as anxious as it did, shouldn't have made his pulse pick up, but it did.

He had to get control of this. He couldn't let her get under his skin.

"So, this your job?" Daisy asked, her voice lighter now that she was standing directly in front of him, just a step above him. not that far away at all. "What are you, a cop or something?"

Rick swallowed, his breath caught in his throat for a second as he stared up at her, trying to keep his expression even, trying to keep everything in check. "Just helping out," he said, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

She smiled at him, but it wasn't the playful, easy smile from before. There was something softer in it now, something that tugged at him in ways he wasn't ready to deal with. "I see," she said. "Well, the uniform suits you...I think you look real professional.”

Rick's breath hitched, but he forced himself to look away.

His chest grew tight at her words, even though they fell mindlessly from her lips. The way she spoke, the subtle playfulness in her voice—she was so casual, so effortlessly confident, it felt like she was holding some secret that Rick couldn’t quite figure out. His pulse quickened as he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself.

“So, Deanna’s throwing a party?” he asked, the words feeling like a lifeline to something that wasn’t this strange tension between them.

Daisy hummed, leaning back against the porch railing as she took a long drag from her cigarette. She flicked the ash, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, then her tongue darted out, dragging across her bottom lip. Rick tried not to notice.

“That’s what I hear,” she said, voice low, teasing, like she wasn’t fully invested in the conversation, but was enjoying his company nonetheless.

Rick looked down momentarily, shifting on his boots, trying to steady himself. His eyes darted up, catching her delicate form again. The soft curve of her neck, the way her fingers grazed her shirt. His gaze lingered before he spoke, unable to keep the question from escaping.

“Are you gonna be there?”

She pulled the hem of her oversized t-shirt down, her movements graceful, as if she had all the time in the world. She glanced briefly at the child still scribbling on the pavement with chalk, a moment of soft focus before she turned briskly, walking a few paces onto the porch, her fingers gently stubbing the cigarette into the ash tray. Her movements were like something Rick couldn’t quite place—effortless and fluid, like a dance he hadn’t been invited to.

“Josh,” she said, her tone casual, “he really doesn’t like those sorts of things.”

Rick stiffened at her words. It wasn’t the content of her statement, but the way it made him feel. The sudden, cold undercurrent that seemed to leak into her tone. There was something there. He could feel it, even if she wasn’t saying it outright. But he decided not to press. Not his business. She was none of his business.

He nodded slowly, the unease settling in his gut.

Daisy shifted on her feet, but her smile was soft now, a different sort of warmth to it, one that made his chest tighten. Her hands wrapped around herself, and she leaned against the railing, eyes on the horizon for a moment, as if contemplating something, before she turned back to him.

“For you,” she said, her voice warm, light, and playful, “I might make an exception.”

Rick’s heart skipped a beat. The words sounded innocent, but the way she said them made him shudder. There was a subtle shift in the air around them, like the temperature had gone up by a degree or two. Her voice, the soft smile—Rick’s body was already betraying him, responding to the unspoken invitation in her tone. But she wasn’t looking at him like that.

“And I have to meet your little one. I’ve been dying to get ahold of her.”

Rick’s chest tightened even more. His breath caught, and he stepped back instinctively, feeling the weight of the sudden pull in his stomach, that hot, unfamiliar pressure. It was like his mind and body were at war, his gut screaming at him to stay focused, to turn away, but his body wasn’t cooperating.

“Well,” he rasped, forcing a smile, “I should get back to it.”

He could feel the heat of her still lingering, the weight of the conversation heavy in the air between them. His feet moved almost reluctantly, but his eyes stayed fixed on her for a fraction longer than necessary.

A quiet moment passed before Daisy spoke again, her tone a little lighter, almost teasing as she gave him a soft smile. “Right! Well, stay safe out there, officer.”

Rick let out an amused chuckle. He couldn’t tell if the chuckle was more for himself, trying to ease the tension that had wrapped itself around him, or because she had said it in that way, with a wink of playfulness that made his chest tighten all over again.

But Daisy couldn’t help it. She let out a soft laugh, almost like an afterthought, before she caught herself, shaking her head.

Rick felt the strange flutter in his stomach, the sensation unsettling, like the world around him had shifted. He felt exposed—like she’d somehow managed to see something inside him he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

“Stay safe, Rick,” she said, her voice still light, but the faintest trace of something deeper lingered beneath the words. She turned back toward her child, but the unspoken tension hung between them like a thread pulled too tight.

Rick walked away, each step feeling like a battle against something he didn’t understand, something he couldn’t control. His mind was a mess, and every inch of his body screamed at him to forget the moment, to forget Daisy.

But her words, her presence—they weren’t something he could easily shake off.

Part 3 available below:

[rickydoodahgrimez]

How about a smutty one shot where Rick is really mad, but also really needy and after a heated foreplay he gets all sensual and soft...

thank you for the request <3

𝞋𝞎 ─────── 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞

pairing: rick grimes x reader

summary: you did something very reckless on the run and rick didn't seem to like that very much, causing an argument to appear between the two of you but when you call him out, something happens between you two? . . .

warnings: yelling, pet names, teasing, dirty talk, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (reader receiving), multiple orgasms, cum inside, fluff at the end, hope you enjoy :))

word count: 2.5 k

a/n: first time writing smut. idk how i feel about this but hopefully you guys enjoy it :)

𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 was fucking fuming.

His shoulders were tense, his hands flexing at his sides like he didn’t know whether to grab you or keep himself restrained.

The dim glow of the lantern in the corner cast sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the furrow in his brow, the tight set of his jaw.

“You don’t listen,” He bit out, voice low and strained. “You never damn’ listen.”

You leaned against the table, arms crossed, watching him unravel. He was pissed, but underneath that rage was something else—something desperate.

The way his eyes lingered on you, the way his hands flexed like he wanted to grab you but held himself back.

“You’re reckless.” Rick stated, voice thick with irritation, as he stared at you. “Could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“I handled it.”

Rick’s eyes flashed. “That ain’t the point.”

“You’re pissed.” You murmured, licking your lips to keep yourself from smirking. “But that’s not why you’re really standing there like that. Am I right, darlin’?”

His breath hitched, nostrils flaring.

“You wanna say somethin’ smart?” His voice dropped lower, rougher, that Georgia drawl slipping through. “Or you just gonna stand there makin’ me crazier than I already am?”

It's silent for a few moments, as you both stare at each other, something familiar in both of your eyes. “You done?” You asked, tilting your head, and smirking.

Rick moved faster than you expected. One second, he was keeping his distance, the next, you were pressed against the table, his body flush against yours, a rough hand gripping your jaw.

His lips hovered just over yours, his breath hot, uneven, before his mouth crashed against yours.

The kiss was punishing, all heat and teeth and frustration. He kissed like he wanted to devour you, like he needed to taste every inch of your mouth to prove a point.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, pressing you so tight against him you could feel the way he was shaking with restraint.

You gasped when he bit your bottom lip, and he took advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss until you felt dizzy.

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging hard enough to make him groan against your lips.

“Rick—”

“Shut up.” He rasped, dragging his lips down your jaw, his beard scraping against your skin.

His hands roamed lower, fingers digging into your thighs as he lifted you onto the table, stepping between your legs.

Rick’s hands managed to make his way from your thighs to your hips as he removed his bruising lips from yours, only for him to start to suck downwards.

Rick’s grip tightened on your hips, fingers pressing hard enough to leave bruises, but you didn’t care. The sting of his touch only fuelled the heat building between you.

His teeth scraped along your jaw, and when he reached the sensitive spot just below your ear, he bit down, making you let out a light moan.

“Still got somethin’ smart to say?” He muttered, hot breath fanning against your neck.

“Rick—”

His name was barely muttered before his mouth was on yours again, demanding and unyielding. The kiss was bruising, frustrating as his tongue delved past your lips.

He broke away, eyes dark and wild, hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer, his eyes burning into yours.

“Keep testin’ me,” He growled. “See what happens.”

Your pulse thrummed in your ears, each word sending a shiver straight down your spine.

You knew you should be annoyed, that you should push back, but the way he looked at you—like he was going to unravel you—made you want to push him further, make him unravel completely.

You bucked your hips against him, a wicked grin curling your lips. “Maybe I like testing you.”

His eyes flashed, and suddenly his hand was at your throat—not squeezing, just holding. His lips hovered over yours, so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating off him, but he didn't close the gap.

Instead, he let his fingers slide up, thumb pressing against your jaw, tilting your head back to expose your throat.

But then, Rick’s lips crashed into yours again, teeth clashing, tongues battling for dominance. His hands roamed over your body, possessive and relentless, leaving no inch untouched.

The air between you was thick, heavy with want and frustration, and the way his hips ground against yours had your breath hitching, nails scraping down his back.

Rick’s hands roamed over your waist, fingers curling at the hem of your shirt, teasing the bare skin beneath.

His touch was rough, possessive, sending shivers down your spine as he deepened the kiss—hot, demanding, like he wanted to consume you whole.

Then, suddenly, he pulled back, breath ragged, eyes dark and hungry as he gripped the fabric of your shirt and yanked it over your head in one swift motion.

He barely spared it a glance before tossing it somewhere behind him, too focused on you—on the way your chest rose and fell, on the heat in your gaze that dared him to keep going.

You didn't give him a chance to pull away further. Instead, you grabbed him by the back of his shirt, fisting the fabric as you yanked him back against you, crashing your lips to his again.

He groaned into your mouth, his hands already gripping your waist, fingers digging in like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

Rick’s fingers trailed up your spine, rough and deliberate, sending a shiver through you as he reached the clasp of your bra.

His lips never left yours, kissing you fast and rough, but also like he was savouring every second. Then, with a practiced flick, the clasp came undone.

Rick didn't hesitate—he grabbed the straps and pulled the fabric from your arms, tossing it somewhere behind him without a care.

His hands were on you immediately, palms rough against your bare skin, thumbs tracing circles that made heat coil in your stomach.

Rick's lips broke away from yours, but before you could protest, they were on your neck, dragging along your pulse, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.

He kissed and bit his way down, his breath hot, his movements slow but full of intent.

Then his mouth found you.

A sharp gasp left your lips as his lips enveloped your nipple, his tongue and teeth working in tandem, sending shocks of pleasure straight through you.

Your fingers shot into his hair, gripping the curls tightly, and he groaned at the sensation, the sound vibrating against your skin.

His mouth stayed latched onto you, tongue flicking, lips sucking just hard enough to make you arch into him. The sensation sent waves of heat through your body, every nerve ending lighting up under his touch.

He groaned against your skin, the deep vibration making you tighten your grip on his hair, tugging harder.

His other hand moved deliberately, rough fingers trailing over your stomach before sliding up to your neglected side.

His palm cupped you, warm and firm, thumb brushing over sensitive skin before he started to knead, fingers digging in just enough to make you whimper.

Rick hummed against you, clearly pleased by your reaction. His teeth scraped lightly before he sucked harder, his hand working in sync with his mouth.

The contrast between his tongue and the strong press of his fingers had your breath coming out in short, uneven gasps as your body tightened with anticipation.

He removed his lips from your nipple and started to kiss downwards. You ran your fingers through Rick’s hair until he reached your stomach. 

When he reached the waistband of your trousers, he paused, lifting his gaze to meet yours.

Despite the fire burning between you, his eyes held a silent question—seeking your permission, making sure this was what you wanted just as much as he did.

The intensity in his stare sent a shiver through you, and without hesitation, you gave a small nod.

That was all he needed.

His fingers hooked into the fabric, and in one swift motion, he yanked your trousers down, his movements quick, almost impatient.

He barely spared them a glance as he tossed them aside, his focus entirely on you, on the way you looked at him.

He started to kneel down onto his knees, eyes staring into yours. Once he was on his knees, his eyes were trained on your wetness.

He gripped your thighs in a bruising grip as he planted teasing kisses on your thighs, getting higher each time, leaving you panting.

Once he reached to the highest point of your thighs, he looked up, a teasing smirk on his face as he played with the hem of your underwear. 

“You want this, sweetheart?” He murmured, his breath fanning your sensitive area, making you buck into his mouth. “Come on, darlin’, answer me.”

You swallow, looking down at him through half—lidded eyes, and nod. Once you notice he isn’t doing anything, you groan. “Yes, please, I want this. Want you.”

Rick let out a low chuckle and pulled down your underwear off your legs in one swift motion. “You goin' to be a good girl for me and behave?”

You whine, your hips bucking up again, your body tightening in anticipation as you slowly felt the cold air drifting towards your core.

When you didn’t answer, he blew air into your core making you buck your hips up again and whimper. “Fuck—yes, I’ll be good—”

You were cut off by your own loud moan as you suddenly felt pleasure. Rick’s tongue traced your slit, tasting your essence, and you moaned again, your head falling back against the table.

His mouth was hot and insistent, his tongue flicking and probing, driving you wild with pleasure. He found your clit, sucking and teasing it with expert precision, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

You dug your nails into his shoulders, a hiss escaping your lips as he pushed you further back onto the table.

“Shit—fuck, that feels so good, Rick.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as your hand slowly trailed up to grip his hair.

He increased the pace, his fingers joining his tongue, delving into your wetness, stroking and circling your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your orgasm built, a tidal wave of pleasure, and with one final flick of his tongue, you shattered, crying out his name as your body trembled uncontrollably.

He then guided you to the bed and he went on top of you and started kissing you roughly.

You felt his desire, hard and insistent, pressing against your lower back as he positioned you on the cushions.

With a swift motion, he lifted your legs, spreading them wide, exposing your glistening core to his hungry gaze.

“You're so fucking gorgeous like this.” He growled lowly, taking off his belt and trousers. “All wet and ready for me.”

He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. With one swift thrust, he filled you, claiming your body as his own. You gasped, your eyes widening at the sensation of being stretched and filled.

“Oh fuck—shit.” You squeezed your eyes shut as he started to move. “Right there. Harder.”

He obliged, his thrusts becoming more forceful, his hands gripping your hips tightly. The bed creaked with each powerful stroke, and you could feel the heat building within you, a volcanic eruption waiting to happen.

“Fuck—holy shit.” You heard Rick mutter and gasp as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him more into you, causing him to go deeper.

“Come for me again, darlin’.” Rick panted, burrowing his face into your neck and making a fist of your hair. “Let me feel it.”

His words were like a match to dry tinder, igniting your passion. You tightened around him, your inner muscles clenching and releasing, milking his cock as he pounded into you.

With a cry of pleasure, you climaxed again, your body convulsing around him, drawing his own orgasm forth.

Rick moaned, his body tensing as he emptied himself deep within you. He collapsed onto the bed, his weight pressing you into the cushions, his heart pounding against your chest.

You both lay there, entwined in a sweaty embrace, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of your release.

As your breathing slowed, Rick rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms. His gaze softened as he brushed the hair from your face.

Rick’s fingers traced soothing circles along your back as he held you close, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath your cheek.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything—just let the warmth of his body surround you, grounding you in the quiet after everything.

Then, he sighed, his lips pressing against your forehead. “I’m sorry,” He murmured, voice softer now, rough edges smoothed by exhaustion. “For shouting earlier. I just—”

He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around you like he was afraid to let go. “I was worried about you. Didn’t know if you were safe, and it—” His jaw clenched. “It messed with my head.”

His thumb brushed gently over your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look at you. “Didn’t mean to take it out on you,” He said, his blue eyes searching yours, filled with something raw—something only for you.

Guilt twisted in your stomach, and you shifted to look at him, reaching up to brush your fingers over his jaw.

“I’m sorry too,” You admitted quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I should’ve been more careful.”

Rick’s eyes softened, and he shook his head. “Just. . . can’t lose you,” He muttered, like the thought alone was unbearable.

His hand cradled the back of your head as he pressed another kiss to your forehead, lingering this time. “You mean too much to me.”

After a moment, he reluctantly pulled away and sat up. “Stay here,” He murmured, running a hand down your arm before getting to his feet.

You watched as he disappeared into the direction of the bathroom, the faint sound of water running filling your ears.

When he returned, he had a warm, damp cloth in hand. He climbed back onto the bed beside you, his touch slow and deliberate as he ran the cloth over your skin, wiping away the remnants of the night with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.

His brows furrowed slightly in concentration, like taking care of you was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

Once he was done, he tossed the cloth aside and pulled you back into his arms, tucking you against his chest.

“Rest,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I got you.”

You let the silence linger for a few beats, enjoying the steady rhythm of his breathing. Then, tilting your head up, you met his gaze with teasing eyes. “Are we not going for round two?”

Rick huffed a quiet chuckle, rolling his eyes.

“You’re insatiable,” He muttered, smirking as he pulled you even closer. “At least let me catch my damn breath.”

You grinned, nuzzling into his chest as his arms tightened around you. The warmth of him, the steady heartbeat beneath your ear, the way he made you feel so undeniably safe—it was enough to lull you into a peaceful haze.

Rick pressed one last kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, trouble." He murmured.

And with that, you both drifted off, tangled up in each other.

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[winnysplayground]

“he’s so babygirl”

babe he just killed somebody.

[lanadelreylover11]

I feel like a virgin when I search up “x Reader” with a new character I like

[shoot1ngst4r]

going out of your way to search up [insert character] ANGST and all you get is smut

[ruerecs]

PSA! you don't have to have smut in your fic to make it good.

for all the butthurt people in my reblogs, i’m literally a writer too. that’s literally why i made this post, never said you shouldn’t. just said you don’t have to? (all the people complaining about this post just know i’m laughing at your replies🙂‍↕️)

[moonxnite]

y’all ever fantasize about a fictional character a little too hard to the point you’re convinced you should be admitted to a mental hospital?

[sleepyangelkami]

smut's fun. have you ever read soul crushing, heart aching, head throbbing comfort that makes your eyes burn out of your head to the point where you just have to crawl into a ball because your inner child feels so safe? haha... yeah smuts fun.

[realangelahernandez]

I’m so sad… time for an x reader fan fiction

[natti-ice]

A man with a pretty face and a slutty waist.

[baby-blue-skyy]

Too Sweet // R. Grimes (TWD) Part 3

Third part of: Too Sweet

Hi everyone! I hope you all are enjoying this little series. I have gotten a little more familiar with the layout, so I feel like I got the hang of it now lol. Part 4 will be posted soon, I am still finishing it up! Thank you all so much for the support.

Warning: age gap, hints of abuse, alcohol use

Summary: After arriving in Alexandria, Rick is still on high alert, uncertainty about the people who live within the walls of his new, unfamiliar home. But one person has caught his attention.

•••

Deanna’s party was a cacophony of voices and clinking glasses, a press of bodies so tight that the air itself seemed thick, heavy with a mixture of sweat, alcohol, and the faint scent of freshly cut flowers that had been placed in vases throughout the house. The walls, once pristine, were now decorated with the warmth of mingling people—locals and outsiders alike, all attempting to recreate a sense of normalcy in a world that had long forgotten it.

Rick had brought Carl and Judith with him, hoping that amidst the chaos, there could be something close to normal for them. They deserved a chance to feel safe, to feel the illusion of peace, if only for a moment. Carl, ever the vigilant protector, stuck close to his father, while Judith, oblivious to the undercurrents of tension, gurgled with a soft laugh, her innocent smile lighting up the room in ways no one else could.

Rick’s eyes swept over the crowd, taking in the faces, trying to gauge their intentions, to measure them against the harshness of the world he knew. His group—his people—were scattered throughout the room, attempting to blend in, to mingle with the Alexandrians, desperate to get a feel for them, to discern who could be trusted and who might just get them killed.

But Rick’s attention kept drifting. His chest felt tight, constricted by a pressure that was not physical but internal. Carol had disappeared, slipping away from the social hum of the party with practiced ease, her movements a silent warning to Rick. She was headed to the infirmary, and as much as he trusted her, as much as he knew the importance of securing their position, a flicker of unease began to gnaw at him. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of danger, any prying eyes that might have noticed her absence.

He breathed deeply, trying to calm the erratic thud of his heart. He had to focus. He couldn’t afford to lose track of his surroundings. And yet, despite the overwhelming need to remain vigilant, his mind betrayed him. It pulled him toward something else.

Her.

Rick cursed himself inwardly. Pathetic. That’s what he was. His gaze moved through the crowd with a desperation that he could not contain, his eyes scanning every face, every body, searching, hoping—hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

She wasn’t here.

His heart sank as the realization hit him like a cold gust of wind. She wasn’t in the crowd, didn’t appear in any corner or by any window. The part of him that had been drawn to her like a moth to a flame was left unfulfilled, that small hope now slipping away like water through his fingers.

But there was someone else.

Rick’s eyes narrowed. Josh. The obnoxious, overconfident man who had somehow wormed his way into their lives. The sight of him standing in the corner, nursing a bottle of beer with a look of utter detachment, made Rick’s skin crawl. The contrast was glaring. Josh was a man who always had to be the center of attention, the life of every room he entered, yet here he was, abandoned in the sea of guests, his presence somehow more pronounced in his isolation.

The thought struck Rick like a hard jab to the gut. Josh doesn’t like those kinds of things. Daisy’s voice echoed in his mind, as clear as if she were standing right next to him. And yet, here he was, standing by himself, pretending to enjoy the party in a way that seemed too deliberate, too calculated.

Something felt wrong.

Rick’s eyes lingered on Josh, watching him as he sipped his beer, his laughter forced, his words louder than they needed to be. There was something about the way he moved—something offbeat, almost like he was trying to draw attention, yet at the same time trying to seem indifferent to the whole affair. He looked like a man trying to prove something, to convince the world—and maybe himself—that he was fine, that he fit in. But Rick wasn’t fooled.

Rick’s fingers tightened around the glass he was holding. The room seemed to constrict around him, the noise, the laughter, the chatter becoming a background hum that only seemed to make the pressure in his chest worse.

Get a grip, Rick told himself, his mind shouting to regain control. She’s none of your business. The words echoed in his head like a mantra, a reminder to steer his thoughts away from the distraction that Daisy had become. But no matter how hard he tried to focus, to steady his pulse, there was an undeniable weight to the air between him and her, a tether he couldn’t cut.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if to clear it. His fingers tightening around his glass—Jessie’s words falling short in his ear.

As the evening stretched into the night, the crowd slowly began to thin out. Families made their way home, ready to crawl into their beds and sleep, as the party began to lose its energy. The soft chatter and clinking glasses died down to murmurs, and the air seemed to cool with the passing of time.

Rick clutched Judith’s small, sleeping form in his arms as he and Carl made their way out of the house, heading home. The street was quieter now, the soft echo of their boots the only sound accompanying them.

Rick couldn’t help it. His eyes drifted toward her house.

It was dark. No light flickered from the windows, indicating that she, too, had gone to sleep for the night. It felt odd, somehow. Rick wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because he had been thinking about her all night, unable to shake the strange feeling she gave him.

The peaceful silence of the neighborhood was interrupted by the sudden sound of glass breaking, sharp and jarring in the stillness of the night. Rick’s gaze snapped toward the noise, landing on the figure of Josh, stumbling drunkenly down the street, a broken liquor bottle lying at his feet.

Rick sighed, a little frustrated, but more than that, exhausted.

Carl looked over at Rick, his eyes focused on the messy, intoxicated figure. “Dad…” Carl started, his voice low.

Rick hesitated, the guilt tugging at him for a moment. He didn’t want to deal with this. But he knew he had to. Not for Josh’s sake, but because the man was a danger to himself, stumbling around like this.

“Take Judith,” Rick said, shifting the sleeping child into Carl’s arms. “Let me help get him off the street.”

Carl nodded, adjusting Judith’s weight. He followed Rick’s lead, looking at the man with concern.

Rick turned back toward Josh, who was swaying like a tree in the wind. His instincts kicked in. He moved swiftly, grabbed Josh’s arm, and began steering him down the street, toward her house.

“No one talks to me, man,” Josh muttered, his words thick with alcohol. “They jus’… they jus’ avoid me. You know?” He hiccupped, his eyes unfocused. “But they all t-talk to Daisy…”

Rick’s jaw tightened at the mention of Daisy. They climbed the steps together, Josh’s feet dragging with each movement, barely able to keep himself upright. Rick knocked on the door, his knuckles tapping gently, though his mind felt anything but calm.

“They all… all like her,” Josh spat, his breath heavy with the stench of liquor. “She’s got… that… that way about her. Everyone likes Daisy. But me? Nah, they just… they jus’ ignore me… ‘less I’m with her.”

Rick’s blood boiled at the words, the resentment in Josh’s voice striking a raw nerve. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to hold himself together as Josh continued, clearly unaware of the effect his words were having.

“Daisy…” Josh went on, his words slurring more and more as he stumbled along, “…she’s-“ his word died short, ricks word cutting through sharply.

“Enough,” Rick growled, his voice tight with restraint. “That’s enough.”

The minutes stretched out as he waited, and for some reason, Rick felt a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t explain. Why was he nervous? His jaw tightened, and he glanced at the drunken man beside him.

The silence was broken by the soft creak of stairs inside. Then, the door swung open, and there she was.

The moonlight spilled down, casting a soft, ethereal glow over Daisy’s features, highlighting the exhaustion in her eyes. She looked tired, disheveled even, but still… breathtaking. She stood there in loose joggers and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair messy and falling into her face.

Rick’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn’t look away. Even like this, with her sleep-heavy eyes and messy appearance, she still made his heart race.

“Rick?” Her voice was tired, but there was a soft surprise in it that made his pulse quicken.

She blinked, and her gaze flickered to Josh, the anger or frustration—something unreadable—flashed in her eyes before it disappeared behind a mask of calm.

“What’s going on?”

Rick cleared his throat, struggling to keep his voice steady. “He’s had too much to drink. I’m just… I’m just getting him home.”

“Oh god,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair, her frustration evident on her tired features. “If you can bring him in, he can sleep on the couch.”

Rick nodded wordlessly, stepping into the house and helping Josh inside. The moment he did, the familiar scent of vanilla, maybe mixed with something else, wrapped around him. It was oddly comforting, and it sent a strange chill up his spine.

Rick lowered Josh onto the couch, the man barely conscious, before turning to leave. As he made his way back toward the door, he heard Daisy’s footsteps behind him.

She was close now, too close. Rick felt his muscles tense as she neared him, her proximity disorienting. He stepped out into the cool night air, feeling the weight of her presence lingering in the space between them.

Daisy gave him a soft, tired smile. “Thank you,” she said, her voice gentle, almost like a whisper.

Rick swallowed hard, the words caught in his throat. “Didn’t see you at the party,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

The moonlight highlighted the sharpness of her features, her lips, her eyes. Rick couldn’t help but notice the faint bruise on her bottom lip. His eyes lingered there for a moment too long, his fingers twitching at his sides.

Her smile had dropped slightly. “I got busy,” she breathed out, running a hand through her hair. “Time got away from me.”

Rick nodded, though he didn’t quite believe her. There was something in her voice that didn’t sit right. But he didn’t press. Instead, he found himself backing up, stepping away from her, but not quite wanting to leave.

Daisy shifted on her feet, crossing her arms over her chest, her gaze dropping to the ground before returning to him. “He doesn’t normally drink like this,” she said, her voice quiet, like she was trying to make sense of it herself. “He… he’s been under a lot of pressure lately.”

Rick barely heard her. His eyes kept drifting back to her lip. The way her words didn’t quite add up. The way she avoided his gaze when she spoke.

Before he could stop himself, the question tumbled out. “What happened to your lip?” His finger pointed toward her injury—his head tilting to the side. His words felt heavy, like he already knew the answer.

Daisy stiffened for a moment, the mask of calm cracking slightly. But then she relaxed, the tension draining from her body as she leaned against the doorframe. A soft laugh bubbled from her lips. “Toddlers,” she said with a shake of her head. “They’re rough.”

Rick’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer. She was a damn good liar. He could see that now, and something in him churned uncomfortably at the thought.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead, he just looked around the porch, feeling the cool air of the summer night wash over him as he took a deep breath.

He was prepared to leave, but there she was, standing right before him with those wide eyes.

Daisy stepped closer, her movements slow and graceful, almost as if she was aware of the tension in the air. Rick’s breath caught in his throat, shifting on his feet—meeting her gaze just as she came to a stop in front of him. Her eyes were warm, tired, but soft. The moonlight brushed against her features, and she looked nothing short of stunning. Even in that moment, so simple and raw, she managed to stir something in the pit of his belly.

Without a word, Daisy reached up, and before Rick could even process what was happening, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It was innocent—nothing more than a polite thank you for his help, but Rick felt the touch like a spark, a current that traveled through his skin and down to his very core. It was brief, too quick to be anything more, but it was enough to leave him reeling, disoriented, and desperate for something that wasn’t going to come.

Rick’s pulse thudded in his chest, his body tense, his mind spinning in a blur of emotions. He didn’t know why this innocent gesture was hitting him so hard. It was just a kiss on the cheek. That was all.

But the way her lips had touched his skin—the softness of it, the warmth that lingered—made everything inside him ache in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He wanted more. He wanted to pull her close, kiss her, feel her hands in his. But he knew he couldn’t. Not like this.

Daisy stepped back, smiling softly at him. “Goodnight, Rick,” she said, her voice gentle, as if nothing at all had changed. It was casual. Simple. Sweet.

But Rick couldn’t breathe. He stood there for a moment, his hand instinctively going to his cheek, as if trying to keep her touch with him, as if it was something he could hold onto. The warmth she left behind was intoxicating, and he couldn’t shake it. He didn’t want to.

Daisy turned away, retreating back into her home with a final glance over her shoulder, leaving Rick standing in the darkness, a wreck of conflicting emotions. The night felt warmer now, the air heavier.

He stood frozen, still feeling the soft press of her lips on his skin. His heart pounded in his chest, and a dull ache settled in his chest that he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just a kiss—it wasn’t just that.

It was her.

And for a brief, painful moment, Rick let himself imagine what it would feel like to be with her—really with her, not in the way he had with anyone else in this world.

But he wasn’t sure if it was something he could ever have, and he hated himself for even letting his thoughts drift that way. He took a shaky breath, then finally turned and walked away, unable to stop the feeling of her touch, the memory of her kiss, from following him through the night.

[winchesterswhore]

do you ever look at a man and think i need you in the most disgusting, vile, pathetic, animalistic, disturbing, vulgar and morally questionable way possible

[xspeter]

do yall ever think about the jaw dropping fics that are probably sitting collecting dust in someone’s drafts rn.