#rick grimes fanfiction

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

safe with me | R.G.

feat. Rick Grimes x sunshine!reader cw: MDNI 18+, established relationship, mentions of traumatic incident with family annihilation & suicide (you are responsible for the content you consume), mentions of child death, hurt/comfort masterlist | requests are open

“Carol!” Rick called, jogging across the lawn to catch her after the town meeting. The sun blazed down, ruthless and disorienting after hours of being indoors. “How'd it go?” He asked, referring to the run she led this morning.

They both knew he was asking how it went for you specifically.

Rick didn't care about much else besides you and his kids these days. Alexandria ran just fine without him worrying himself sick; you’d shown him that.

Carol grimaced. “She hasn't come to find you?”

Rick's jaw clenched, his heart beating a bit faster. “Would I be askin’ is she did?”

“She, ah—she’s fine,” Carol clarified, sensing his mounting alarm. “But there was a—an incident.”

“What kind of incident?” He growled.

“We were clearing a property, and she went into the house first—”

His anger flared. “Why would you let her—”

“Because everyone matters, Rick,” she snapped. “I can't treat her special because she's yours.”

He grit his teeth. He knew Carol already paid you extra mind, so there was no sense arguing it.

“She volunteered anyhow, so I sent her. There were no Biters, but…” Carol took a shaking breath. “She found the family in the dining room, parents and two little boys. Practically nothin’ left of the bodies, half-eaten dinners in front of ‘em, rotten through. Mom’s brains all over the wall—”

“Alright, alright,” Rick cut her off, scrubbing a hand over his face. Fucking brutal. Rick had seen plenty gruesome scenes like it, but you—somehow you'd held onto your heart through the end of the world.

“I don't think she took it well, didn't speak the rest of the run. Passed her ration off to Rosita. Had that stare, y’know?”

Rick nodded. Had that stare himself on countless occasions. “She went home?”

“Far as I know,” Carol affirmed. Rick went to head that way when Carol grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. “Don't push her, she'll talk when she's ready.”

“I know, I know," he assuaged. “I’ll go easy.”

Carol nodded and released him, and he started down the road, breaking into a jog when he was sure no one was looking.

When he reached your shared house, sun-bleached siding and half-roasted grass, he slipped through the front door, finding Carl reading by the lone fan in the living room. The house was eerily quiet, save the cordant hum of the whirling blades, it's cedar bones heavy on its foundation.

“Hey,” Rick hissed, getting Carl's attention. “How is she?”

Carl shrugged. “Makin’ lunch. Not singing’ like usual,” was all the boy offered before turning back to his comic.

“Alright, take your sister and go on to Michonne's for a bit,” he said, leaving no room for argument in his tone.

Carl huffed his displeasure, but did as he was told, trudging upstairs to fetch Judith while Rick moved towards the kitchen. He waited to hear the scampering of Judith's footsteps and the click of the door shutting behind them before pushing through the small door into the kitchen.

You were staring down at the blue flames of the gas stove, an open can of soup in your hand. Completely frozen, besides your yellow sundress fluttering around your bare legs.

Normally, the sound of Rick's boots up the steps was enough to have you bounding out the front door and throwing yourself into his arms, even if he'd only been to the neighbors and back. And you always sang while you cooked, some scratched-to-shit record backing you up.

His heart cracked.

“Hey, darlin’,” he murmured, careful not to startle you.

You blinked, bleary eyes focusing on the can of soup, then flicking back up to the empty pot. Trying to connect the dots of what you'd been doing. “I'm making lunch,” you said, barely above a whisper, and he wasn't sure if you were talking to him or yourself.

“I see, can I help you?” He asked, moving a little further into the room. Turning down the knob on the stove to reduce the lapis flame.

You shook yourself, straightening with a too-wide smile. “I've got it!” You chirped, pouring the can into the pot. It spat and sputtered, entirely too hot. Rick snatched it off the burner, putting his body between you and the wrathful soup so you didn't get burned. “Shit! Let me get some towels.” You hurried away, frenetic energy wafting from you, spooked like a hare.

He knew that with one wrong move, it could tip into full-blown panic. “Honey, easy,” he soothed, catching you by the arms when your turned back towards him. “No harm, no foul.” He gently took the stack of towels from you, six for a few splatters of broth, and set them in the counter.

“I need to—” Your eyes were glazing again, hazy as the memory creeped back in.

“Don't worry about lunch, darlin’. I sent ‘em off to Michonne's for a little while.” He took your arms again, rubbing up and down your biceps to try and keep you with him.

“Oh,” you mumbled, glassy eyes drifting just past him at the wallpaper. “Why?” Your eyes refocused on him, brow furrowing slightly.

He leaned down to kiss the wrinkle away. “Too nice a’day for kids to stay inside. And thought you and I could spend some time together.”

“Oh,” you repeated. You fell quiet for a moment, and he could practically see the gears turning in your head, like you were trying to dredge something up you'd forgotten.

He waited patiently, sliding his hands down to hold yours.

“How was the meeting?” You finally asked, though your voice retained that same listless quality.

“Went fine. Same shit, different folks,” he said, shifting both your hands to his right one so he could bring the left up to cradle your face. “How was your day?”

“Fine.” You leaned into his palm, a rough, calloused thing against your supple skin, and your lashes lowered a bit, fluttery like moth wings. Something warm unfurled in his chest.

“C’mon, let me fix you somethin’ to eat,” he said, kissing your forehead again to hide the frown pulling at his mouth. He guided you back over to the stove, patting on the counter beside it. Your favorite spot whenever he got a wild hair to cook.

You hopped up, obedient little thing, and smoothed your skirt, crossing your dangling ankles.

He felt your eyes following him while he put on one of your favorite albums and resumed lunch preparations. He tried to keep his movements slow, fluid, easily trackable in your addled mind. After a few minutes though, you drifted off again, staring at a cracked tile on the floor.

Once the soup was simmering, he stepped towards you, moving to stand between your knees. “Pretty girl,” he hummed, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Why don't you tell me what's goin' on?”

You shook your head, tugging your chin from his fingers and turning your head away from him.

He leaned forward, brushing his lips along your hairline, balmy and salt-tinged from the heat. “You know I'll never let anythin’ happen to you,” he murmured. “Nothin’ out there can hurt you, or them, here.” He smoothed his hands over your ribs, the swell of your hips. “Not while I'm around.”

Tears welled in your eyes. That's a start, he thought. Out here, that numbness will eat you alive. Feeling is the only way to keep going.

“I’d rather die than let anything happen to them,” you whispered.

“I know, baby. I know.” He pulled you in for a proper hug, your face buried into the meat of his shoulder. “You take such good care of us, and I'm so grateful,” he said into your hair, kissing your crown. “You're a dream come true, darlin’.”

You cracked, a whimper eeking through your teeth, then another, until you were sobbing into his chest, fingers digging into the cotton of his shirt.

He sighed in relief, petting your hair while you purged the pent up emotions. “That's a good girl, there ya’ go. Let it all go,” he encouraged, your tears seeping through his shirt and cooling his sun-warmed skin. “You're alright now, I've gotcha.”

“She poisoned them,” you sobbed, thumping his chest with your fist. Barely hard enough for him to register. “She must have been so desperate—”

“This world makes people do monstrous things,” he said, flattening your fist out against his chest, willing his heart to beat slow and steady under your palm. “We can't try to understand it.”

“Do you think they knew?” You looked up at him, lashes dark and spiked with tears, eyes almost feverishly bright. Pleading.

He shook his head, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, deeply sorry that he couldn't give you the answers you needed. “We can't know, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

“We should have buried them,” you whispered, looking towards the window. “It wasn't right, leaving them like that.”

Rick never loved you more than he did in that moment, his heart leaping up his throat, choking him with affection. “I'll take care of it, baby. Don't you worry.” He couldn't resist pressing a kiss to your temple, your forehead, your nose, adoring you so much it ached.

“You will?” You turned back to him, fingers tightening on his shirt.

“Daryl and I will go as soon as I know you're alright,” he promised.

“But—”

“No buts.” He placed a thumb over your lips, quieting your protest. Another sign that you were feeling a little more like your usual, stubborn self. “Now, think you can eat a little f’me?”

You eyed the soup warily as he clicked off the eye and fetched a spoon, returning quickly back between your legs.

He dipped the spoon into the broth, lifting a small amount to your lips. “Just a few bites?”

You folded your lips together and shook your head.

“Baby,” he sighed. “You need to eat somethin’. I won't go until you do.”

But instead of indignation flashing in your eyes, he saw a prickle of fear as you stared at the spoon. Guilt curdled in his gut.

“Here.” He put the spoon in his mouth, eating the bite instead, then scooped a second bite, offering it to you again. “We'll eat it together.”

You didn't look convinced, but you parted your lips anyways, and he fed you a small sip.

“Good girl,” he said, taking the rest of the bite himself. “You trust me, don't you? Would I ever give you something that was going to hurt you? Hurt Carl or Judith?”

“No,” you mumbled, accepting a second, larger bite. “You wouldn't.”

“I'll share every bite with you if that's what you need, whatever I gotta do to make you feel safe,” he promised.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. He set the spoon down to hold your waist again, tugging you to the edge of the counter to feel your body press fully against his, his arms braced across you back.

“Promise me that if I ever start to lose it, if I ever pose a danger to those kids—” your voice splintered, brittle with emotion. “That you'll do whatever you need to keep them safe.”

He couldn't even think about it, the fleeting idea enough to make his chest constrict painfully, his stomach roil. “I'll do what I need to do to keep all three of you safe,” he promised instead.

“Deal,” you sighed, lifting your head to meet his eyes.

He shifted that final inch forward, catching your lips in a tender, top-lip kiss. You softened, nails raking through the hair at the nape of his neck as he drew you closer, languishing in the honeyed taste of you. Finally relaxing now that he was sure you'd be alright.

After a moment, you broke the kiss to breathe, your nose congested from crying. He grazed his thumb over your bitten lip, smiling softly at your slightly dazed expression.

“You're safe with me, darlin’,” he assured. “Always.”

© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[heathermason6060]

Rick Grimes x F!Reader x Daryl Dixon Smut: And There was only One Bed

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, unprotected sex, jealous Rick, awkward inexperienced Daryl, dry humping, spooning sex, oral, handjobs (Daryl receiving), staying quiet/fear of being caught, Daryl pretending to be asleep

Summary: Rick, Daryl, and reader get caught out on a storm and take shelter in a small cabin. They're stuck there for the night, and you'll never guess what happens next. THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

Notes: God this is so hot I don't care that the morals are questionable!!!! I need it more than anything I've ever needed before thank you for requesting anon

Being squished between a snoring Daryl and Rick's hard-on was not how you imagined your night going when you set out that morning.

It was supposed to be a cut and dry intel run. Scope out the new group nearby, learn a few things, maybe grab some supplies on your way back, but no, it's never that easy.

First off, you couldn't find the group. Aaron claimed they were composed of maybe forty people living in the nearby school, but the place was quiet when you'd checked it out.

Then, Rick's truck broke down. Dead battery. Daryl set out looking for one with enough juice to get you home when the first signs of a storm rolled in. Angry dark clouds and cold fat raindrops.

The only place nearby in walking distance was down a long gravel road. It was the smallest, but also the cutest, cabin you'd ever laid eyes on. It only had three rooms, one bedroom with a bathroom, and a large open living area that held a tiny kitchen and a couch with a fireplace.

“Get those windows boarded up.”

Rick was quick to spew out commands after the three of you busted through the front door, all wet and shivering. The wind was so strong it slammed the door closed behind you, blowing the curtains and causing stray paper to fly off their tables.

“Can't!” Daryl shouted. He stood behind you shielding his face from the rain shooting through the broken windows.

That's how you ended up in the bedroom. You sat shivering on the foot of the bed as Rick went through the dresser, looking for clothes to replace the soaking fabric you all wore.

Daryl slid the bedroom vanity in front of the door. He even went as far as to set the armchair on top of it.

“Can we just wait it out?” Your teeth clattered together as Rick tossed you a towel from the closet. You ruffled it in your hair and watched Daryl.

He was standing in front of the only window in the room, his arms crossed and his thumbnail between his teeth.

“Yeah, should ease up soon.” Rick sat on the bed opposite from you, drying his arms and hair with his own towel.

“Naw.” Daryl muttered. He finally turned away from the window and began drying himself. “Gonna be a few hours, at least.”

You furrowed your brows, looking down in your lap. This was quite the predicament. Stuck in a bedroom with two men, one you barely knew and were pretty sure hated you.

The other… Well, you weren't sure what Rick was to you.

Daryl wasn't right, but he wasn't wrong either. The storm did continue for a few hours, but it also didn't show any signs of stopping.

You glanced down at your watch and felt your heart drop. It was seven pm, and the sun would be setting very soon. Not that you could see much outside anyways, the clouds were thick and covered a majority of the sky.

Your voice broke the long streak of silence.

“Are we gonna have to stay here tonight?”

Rick and Daryl had known the answer to that question two hours prior. Neither of them wanted to be the ones to say it, but their lack of direct answers filled you in enough. Rick looked down at his revolver and Daryl continued staring out the window.

“Fuck.” You groaned, sitting back down on the bed. “I promised Maggie we'd watch season two of True Blood tonight.”

“That dog fucker show?” Daryl muttered around his cigarette. He was leaning against the wall next to the window, legs crossed at the ankles, cleaning under his nails with the blade of his knife.

“No Daryl, there's no dog fucking.” You sighed and he just mumbled in response, not looking up from his fingers.

Rick had made himself busy trying to prepare the room for the night.

He'd found a few hurricane lanterns and set two up on the bedside tables, and began anxiously ‘cleaning’. The room only had the bed, dresser, and bedside tables, so there wasn't much he could do besides look in the same drawers over and over.

At some point he went into the small bathroom and shut the door. He stayed there for a couple minutes, doing god knows what.

There were a few clothing items left by the previous owners. Daryl and Rick got some raggedy sweatpants, shirts full of holes that were a little too small for them. You were stuck with a massive piss yellow sweater and the ugliest pair of basketball shorts.

Anything was better than your soaking rags.

The storm had eased up a bit, but that didn't do much in terms of easing your boredom. The sun had long since set, your watch read ten-thirty, and neither man was very talkative.

“I'll take first watch.” Daryl was the first to speak in a while.

“No. I'll do it.” Rick protested. He'd been cleaning his revolver for the last thirty minutes. “I can't sleep anyway.”

“Yeah, well. Neither can I.”

You'd found a box of random items under the bed and had been looking through them while they bickered. A dead Gameboy, random PlayStation controllers, a few comic books, pieces to Monopoly, and an array of broken crayons. There was a pen and a notepad though, so you started drawing a caricature of Daryl.

Angry eyebrows, a cigarette that was half his height in his frowning mouth, and a speech bubble filled with hash tags for explicatives.

“Hey.” You nudged Rick's knee with your elbow. He sat on the bed above where you were, cross-legged on the floor next to your box of bullshit.

He looked down at the paper you showed him, and for the first time that day you saw his lips twitching up into a smirk. His eyes trailed over the paper and he grabbed it from you, bringing it up closer to his face.

“Is that Daryl?” He questioned, and you nodded, a grin splitting across your face.

“That's good.” Rick nodded, shrugging his mouth. “You got a real talent. Looks just like him.”

Daryl was too bored to hide his interest, so he stood from his spot under the bedroom window and walked over to you. He grabbed the notepad from Rick, and you could see his eyes narrowing as he tried to make out your scribbles in the dim lighting.

“Yeah?” Daryl looked up when he heard the two of you stifling giggles and laughter. “Think that's funny? Gimme that.” He snatched the pen from your hands and flipped the page, sitting down on the dresser and scribbling furiously.

The pad was tossed in your lap a minute later. Your eyes widened on the drawing.

It was obviously you. You had on the same sweater, but it went down to your feet instead of your knees, and you were standing beside a cat. The only problem was, the cat was three times taller than you, and you had the ugliest expression on your face. Your mouth hung open and you were nagging the cat about scratching up the furniture. It was based on a scenario that had happened the day before, with your cat back home, Daisy, who you had caught shredding the living room couch.

“Dude, what am I? Two inches tall?” You laughed, handing the paper to Rick. He covered his mouth to hide the smile, but you saw it through his fingers and stood to give him a shove.

“Right, sorry. Drew ya too big. Hold on.” Daryl came over and drew a new stick figure of you so small that it was the size of a real ant.

“Ooookay, fuck you.”

Daryl dogged the small notepad you'd tossed at his face, and started laughing. Actually laughing. Your smile grew softer as he and Rick began to joke. It had been a while since you'd seen either of them behave in such a lighthearted manner. It made the bare bedroom seem not so cold.

Eventually the curtains were drawn and the lanterns dimmed considerably. You'd claimed the only spot on the bed that wasn't lumpy or sunken, which just so happened to be the middle.

No other reason, promise.

For the sake of his joints, Daryl had given up trying to sit on the hard floor and joined you on the bed, claiming the side closest to the window. He'd made sure to put distance between you, so much so that he was nearly hanging off the edge.

Rick had a little more resolve than the other man and stood by the window for a bit, occasionally peeking out the heavy curtains to see the same amount of darkness as before.

“Thank god you showered this morning.” Rick grunted as he sat down on your left, knocking his boots together before he brought his legs up on the bed.

“Me?” You blurted immediately, already feeling the tiniest but of anxiety, Rick never teased you like that. He saved that for the men.

He gave a toothy grin and shook his head. “No. Him.” He pointed over your body to Daryl, who was smoking his third cigarette of the night. “Carol made him take his monthly shower after he came home covered in coyote blood.”

You giggled, glancing over at Daryl.

“Yeah. Laugh it up.” Daryl took a deep drag.

You kicked off your shoes and sat upright, taking off those god awful shorts while the two men continued to playfully insult each other.

Rick caught himself going quiet when he saw you pulling the shorts down your thighs, his mouth drying at the sight. Daryl quickly shot him a look, dragging his attention away from your now bare legs and back onto him.

You didn't notice a thing, but you wished you had. Maybe you'd have started grinding against him earlier that night.

You were the first to fall asleep, to no one's surprise. There were little things that you loved more in life than sleeping.

Curled up underneath the sheets that you'd checked twenty times for bugs, sleep came quick and easy for you.

The sweater you were wearing had become incredibly uncomfortable so you swapped it for Rick's hole ridden T-shirt, leaving him shirtless. The image of his bare chest and the muscles in his back almost gave you enough adrenaline to stay up the entire night, but Daryl's soft breathing and Rick's body heat beside you tugged you unconscious.

Rick was next to give in, he'd kicked his boots off and climbed under the sheets with you, not before sliding a pillow between your bodies, more for your consideration than his modesty. He didn't give a shit, but he was worried you might.

Daryl was last, and by complete accident. He'd meant to take the first watch but the sounds of rain on the roof, gentle thunder outside, and your soft breathing beside him had him out like a light.

Two hours went by before something woke Rick up. The feeling of pressure against his crotch.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times in a struggle to see, but the room was too dark to immediately recognize his surroundings.

Once he remembered where he was he relaxed. He closed his eyes again and almost fell back to sleep when he felt it.

A gentle nudge of something soft and plush against him, something that made him well aware of the situation in his sweatpants. He was painfully erect.

His eyes opened again, but the room was no easier to see in. He could still hear the sounds of quiet rain and wind, and the new sound of Daryl's soft snoring.

Then you whimpered.

It was quiet, barely audible, and whiny. You were squirming in your sleep, the pillow between the two of you now between your knees, separating them to prevent the annoying feeling of bone on bone.

Your ass moved back against him again. He pulled his hips back, his dick immediately complaining about the loss of contact with a slight twitch. He clenched his teeth together and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall back asleep.

Think about cold showers. You're taking a cold shower, he thought, taking deep breaths. Cold cold shower. She's in a cold shower--- raw potatoes, grub worms, rotten walker flesh, her flesh, her ass is only a few inches away, snug in those cute boyshort underwear-

Daryl let out a sudden louder snort, startling Rick out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped open, only closing once he heard the earlier gentle snores return.

Your movements stilled and he was able to sleep once again, not without an iron will mindset.

You weren't sure how long you'd been sleeping when you woke up. You checked your watch, seeing the green glowing hands pointed at the twelve and nine.

It was only twelve forty-five.

You sighed.

The room had grown colder as the night went on, cold air seeping through the thin cracks in the walls and floorboards.

As a result of said colder temperature, Daryl had moved closer to you, be that in his sleep or on purpose, you didn't know. All you knew was he was there on your right side, his bicep warm and pressed against your upper chest.

Rick had also moved closer. So close, in fact, that his hand was on your waist, resting there like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Your heart sped up when you realized this, and when he pulled you closer in his sleep you almost gasped.

He was hard.

Like, really hard.

You could feel it behind his sweatpants pressed right into your ass. His breathing was slow and deep, letting you know that he was definitely asleep, not that the knowledge did much to stop the arousal filling your chest.

You couldn't stop the whimper that sounded deep in your throat. Daryl's snoring covered it, or you thought it did. Rick stirred behind you and you heard the sound of him sniffing sleepily.

He had to be awake, you were sure of it. His breathing had become quiet, much different than the sounds of someone who was deep in sleep. He made no move to pull his hand away from your hip, confusing you even further.

Maybe he wasn't awake.

A lightbulb went off. You wiggled your hips, very slightly, only a few millimeters side to side. It was enough to gain a reaction from him, which let you know that he was definitely awake.

Rick's grip tightened on your hip.

Then he pushed into you.

There was nothing you could've done to prepare yourself for that kind of response. You sucked in a breath and felt your pussy throb. It was such a faint and quick movement, but you could vividly feel the shape of his dick pressing against your ass.

You heard movement behind you, the sound of his stubble scraping across his pillow as he moved his lips to your ear, speaking barely above a whisper.

“Stay still.”

Your eyes flicked to Daryls face.

You could barely see the outline of his head illuminated in moonlight thanks to the parting clouds. His nose pointed up at the ceiling, his lips parted as he breathed.

A wave of heat traveled through your body, starting in your chest and shooting down to your core. You felt that flipping sensation in your lower stomach and you whimpered again, rubbing your thighs together.

Rick inhaled deeply through his nose at the action. His hand shifted upwards, moving over your hip and splaying over the curve of your waist. He could feel you pressed against him, even if you weren't moving, and it made him groan faintly.

The sound of him groaning sent another spark through your core. You couldn't help it, you arched your back just enough to feel friction. You were too weak willed.

“Sweetheart.” He breathed, his forehead resting against the back of your hair to try and steady himself. “You gotta stop, please.”

He hated how desperate and wrecked the whispered words came from his lips. Hated how his dick was aching in his boxer briefs.

Hated how he was just as weak willed as you, his hips moving forward in a way that betrayed his words and stomped them in the mud.

You couldn't understand why you were so unbearably aroused. You weren't a teenager going through puberty. You've had partners.

Sure, you had a little admiration-fueled crush on the two men, but the way your body was behaving was animalistic. Your heart felt like it was going to burst through your chest and your pussy was soaked.

If only you had your vibrator that was back in Alexandria, you'd orgasm in five seconds, you knew that for a fucking fact.

Daryl muttered a nonsensical sentence in his sleep, his head lolling over in the direction of the window. His right arm rose to lay over his chest, and his left leg spread out in your direction.

His knee bumped against the top of your thighs, almost slipping between them.

You could've screamed.

You tried to stay still, really, you did. But the feeling of Rick pushing against you again, Daryl's knee nudging between your thighs, it was impossible. You moved your hips, intending on just pushing back against Rick but your action also succeeded in grinding down right on Daryl's knee.

Rick could feel resistance in your movement but his mind couldn't focus on anything but the feel of your plush ass pressing against his dick.

His blood ran cold at the sound of Daryl mumbling in his sleep again. He held his breath, waiting with baited breath to see if he'd stir awake.

Relief flooded his body after a moment of silence, and he pressed his face back into your hair. There was still a faint smell of shampoo or conditioner despite the earlier rain. The feminine smell made his dick twitch and he flexed his jaw.

You were caught between excitement and horror. Daryl's knee was wedged right between your thighs, and occasionally it would jerk up against you. Each time it would make you fight away a gasp, and make your clit throb.

Daryl was definitely asleep, right? If he woke up he'd roll over on his side, right? There was no way he was awake, pushing his knee right up against your pussy, right?

You reached down to grab Rick's hand, which was still resting against your waist, gripping onto his fingers for support. His fingers curled around your own and sent butterflies in your stomach at the feeling of comfort.

He hated himself for all of it, but in the moment, he felt like he didn't care. His hips rocked against yours, once, twice, the need to get relief clouding all judgment he was capable of having.

You couldn't help yourself either. Your eyes fluttered shut and you rolled your hips, soft and slow, against Rick's bulge and Daryl's knee. You'd tried several times to push it away, wiggle back further into Rick, but it was like there was a goddamn super magnet attached to your clit and his knee cap.

You bit down hard against your lip, trying to keep your voice from escaping. Everything felt so good, Rick dry humping his heart out, your clit buzzing, it all felt so overwhelmingly amazing that you hadn't even noticed Daryl's snoring was no longer present.

In the end, it wasn't enough, Rick was being too cautious. You needed more, just a little bit. You pushed back hard against him and heard his breath hitch in his throat. His hand gripped yours so tight it almost hurt, and he leaned into your ear.

“Movin’ too much. Stop.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You shook your head, your lip trembling between your teeth.

“Can't.” You breathed. You physically couldn't stop, you knew that and Rick knew that. You were both so close to relief, you'd already gotten this far, there was no point in stopping now. No going back.

Rick swallowed hard as he felt his resolve break at the way you and your body pleaded. It was all he needed. His hips moved a bit faster, a bit rougher. His hand left yours and grabbed the string of his sweatpants, fingertips pinching the ends, hesitating only for a second before he pulled.

Time seemed to literally freeze when you felt him digging his cock out behind you. Your heart stopped, your breathing stopped, and so did the grinding of your pelvis. You couldn't think. It was suddenly all too very real.

You didn't expect Rick to do something like this. The dry humping, sure. He was horny and it wasn't really that big of a deal. But this? Tugging down your underwear? Spitting on his hand and stroking his dick to get it wet for you? It felt like a dream and way too terrifying at the same time.

“Sweetheart…” His hot breath against your ear snapped you back to reality. “You… you gotta be quiet, okay? Promise?”

You'd never nodded so quickly and eagerly in your life. Your heart felt like it was literally up in your throat. The tight knot in your core became more and more taut, and it trembled when you felt the hot tip of his wet dick bump between your folds.

Rick nearly came when he felt how wet you were. It was mind blowing, you were fucking soaked. The hot lube was covering your pussy and trailing down the side of your ass, reaching his hip bone.

You inhaled deeply when you felt him start to push in. You'd think with how wet you were it would be easy, but your muscles were wound tight due to the nearly paralyzing fear of possibly waking Daryl.

There was a bit of self disgust when you felt the weight of reality sinking in. The absolute pathetic degeneracy of what you were doing with Daryl right next to you.

That self disgust faded when Rick pushed into you.

Rick swallowed a groan as his cock dug up into you, your walls hot and soft and squeezing the life out of him. He could feel how nervous you were so he slipped an arm over your side, his hand reaching for your own again.

You moaned.

His hand broke from your grip and clamped over your mouth. Neither of you moved for a solid minute.

It was the longest minute in history. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you, your clit throbbing so hard you thought it was going to have its own little heart attack.

Your thighs absentmindedly squeezed against Daryl's knee, and you were sure you'd start crying.

Finally, Rick began moving. His breathing was growing heavy behind your head, his face burying back into the mess of hair in front of him.

His movements were slow at first. Tantalizingly slow. He waited until he was sure you could stay quiet before picking up the pace.

Your eyes had adjusted a fair amount in the darkness. You looked up to Daryl, finding comfort when you saw his eyes were still closed, but he'd stopped snoring long ago.

You dismissed it and grabbed onto the wrist of the hand covering your mouth, gripping tight for support.

Your right hand slipped under the sheets to rest on your thigh, but instead landed on Daryl's lower thigh. He must've been a very heavy sleeper, because he didn't react to it beyond the muscles tensing under your palm.

The sound that escaped Rick's lips had your eyes rolling back into your head. A trembling whimper. His movements grew quicker and deeper, his dick dragging your walls against him, pulling out every drop of arousal he could and thrusting it back in.

Your mind spun as all thoughts left your brain. There was nothing going on up there anymore, just dark blackness, the feeling of Rick fucking you taking over your conscious body.

His hand grabbed yours, the one on Daryl's knee, and pulled it away from you, to the right.

When your fingers brushed up against something warm and soft, you didn't question it. You didn't even question his fingers moving yours to wrap around his dick.

Your eyes shot open.

Rick's dick was still inside you. His right hand was still on your mouth, his left on the small of your back.

Daryl's eyes were open, and looking right into yours.

You went to jerk your hand away out of reflex, but his grip was tight, forcing your fingers to stay wrapped around his thick cock. Your eyes flew over him, fighting to understand what was happening, when had he woken up? Just then? Or was he awake when he pushed his knee between your thighs?

The orgasm that came out of nowhere pushed all those questions aside.

You moaned against Rick's hand as you came, no longer trying to be quiet, no longer trying to keep your hips still. Your thighs clamped down on Daryl's knee, grinding rough and quick.

Much to Rick's absolute heart-stopping horror.

He tried to muffle your moans, forcing his hand down painfully hard on your mouth, but it did little. He bared his teeth near your ear and hissed for you to stop, the sound sharp and jarring as it came through his clenched teeth, but then his eyes landed on the scene over your body.

Daryl using your hand to stroke his dick. Daryl with his other arm bent behind his head, his face tilted to the side to watch your expressions with parted lips.

It took Rick a few seconds to recover from the near heart attack. He almost lost his boner from the heart dropping adrenaline, but your wet walls spasming around him coaxed his hips forward.

Now that you didn't need to be quiet you pulled Rick's hand off your mouth and gasped down a lungful of air. Your mouth was hot and dry, and it was hard to swallow.

You couldn't take your eyes off Daryl, his eyes, the eyes that hadn't left your face since he woke up.

God, he was unbelievably sexy. The way he was so responsive to your touch led you to believe your hand might possibly be the first hand to touch his dick other than his own.

He grunted softly, his eyes finally falling shut after you gently squeezed the base of his dick. You'd be content to get him off with one hand like you had been for the past few minutes, but you couldn't resist the urge to give him his first hand job and blowjob.

“Up.” You panted. You curled your finger at Daryl, pointing up. He happily obliged and sat upright, scooting up towards the headboard until his lap was right in front of your face.

He seemed absolutely thrilled, ecstatic even. His once heavy eyes were now wide open, watching every move you made as you shifted your upper half so your mouth could reach his dick.

Rick was still thrusting with hesitation when you moved. He watched you lick broad stripes on the underside of Daryl's dick, and he couldn't help but glance at his face to see his reaction.

Mouth hanging open, eyes clenched tightly shut, his expression almost looked pained. His hands had found their way to your hair, gripping two handfuls as he began trying to move your head for you.

You slapped his hands away and grabbed his wrists, an action that had his eyes opening and looking down at you.

“Don't.” Your hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of his tip. He pinched both his lips shut between his teeth, nodding quickly, a shaky closed-lip moan rattling in his throat.

Rick finally got ahold of himself and grabbed your hips to turn your lower half on your stomach. He kept his dick inside you as he slid on top of you, his knees spreading to rest on either side of your thighs.

You were taking Daryl's head past your lips when Rick suddenly fucked you like he'd been wanting to the entire time. Both his hands rested on the small of your back, pushing your hips down into the mattress with all his weight to keep them firmly in place.

You gasped around Daryl at the feeling of Rick pounding into you from above. It was a comically drastic change from only five minutes before when he thought Daryl was asleep.

Daryl's wrists flexed in your hands where you had them pressed against his lower stomach. You knew he was only keeping them there in your grasp because he allowed it, and not because you were somehow strong enough to keep even a single wrist of his in your fist, let alone two.

It took a lot of effort on Rick's part to actually finish. Having Daryl in the room when you fucked was one thing, but having him making all that noise just from your mouth was another.

He was honestly more surprised that Daryl actually enjoyed sex acts than the fact he was engaging in them with him in the room. With no one other than you, a girl he almost never saw him interact with.

Rick had assumed Daryl simply wasn't interested. Incorrectly assumed.

Either way, having Daryl only a few feet away from him while he had his dick inside you was something he wasn't sure he enjoyed. But the way you clenched around him every time he pulled back was enough to make him forget about it.

Daryl was struggling to keep himself together. He had no point of reference, but he thought you were incredibly talented at giving head. You were giving it your all, sucking and licking like your life depended on it. It was impressive how well you were managing to concentrate on blowing him with Rick making such a mess of your pussy.

You couldn't be happier. You knew there were so many women back in Alexandria that would kill to be in your position, lying in front of the Daryl Dixon, lying under the Rick Grimes, both of their dicks inside you.

“Wa-wait.” Daryl suddenly sputtered and ripped his wrists from your hands to cup the sides of your face, giving a few gentle slaps with the tips of his fingers.

You looked up, not taking your mouth off of him. His expression made your pussy clench around Rick and he groaned behind you, the sound raw and deep. He shifted his hips and ground down against you, quick and rough, his tip jabbing deep inside you.

The ragged moan you let out reverberated through Daryl, and the hand you had around his base gave a trembling squeeze.

“M’boutta, Jesus! Hey, oh, godfuckindamnit-” Daryl's jaw dropped and his eyes rolled back, his head tipping backwards as he made that same pained expression and came down your throat.

Your hips were roughly jerked up from the bed, shoving you back on Rick's dick, and then his hands slipped under your armpits to pull up your top half.

It was hard to stay upright, but thankfully Rick was generous enough to provide you the luxury of his hands tight against your tits, keeping your back flush against his chest.

Oh, it was a goddamn shame Daryl had just come. The sight in front of him was something he knew millions would pay- no, kill- to see. You looked breathtaking. Rick had taken your shirt off some time ago, leaving you completely bare as you kneeled in front of Daryl.

He forgot to breathe as he watched your face, slack in pleasure. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and on him, something that made his softening cock twitch. All that struggling just to look at someone like him? The hell did he deserve to have someone like you looking at him like that?

Rick deserved praise for the way he supported your weight with just his hands, keeping your entire upper half pressed against his chest while he fucked you in desperate effort to finally get off. His dick felt raw from how long he'd been at it, his balls throbbing from the delayed orgasm, it was a wonder he was able to keep himself upright, let alone you.

“Daryl.” The way you whimpered his name made his cock jump back to life, and he pushed himself up on his elbows to look up at you, eager to obey whatever it was you were about to ask.

“Yeah?” He rasped as he stared up at you.

You'd placed your hands over Rick's and moved his fingers over your nipples, which he was pinching and rolling, something he understood without you even needing to ask.

“Touch me, please.”

You didn't need to ask twice. Daryl inched down the bed and kept himself propped up on one elbow, his other arm sliding over his chest to reach your clit.

Rick decided at that moment he definitely didn't like threesomes. Feeling you twist and hearing you moan due to Daryl's thumb rubbing against you made his chest and face hot, a childish reaction considering you and Rick were not a thing, and certainly not an exclusive thing.

He just wasn't good at sharing.

The silly jealousy led to him putting his all into pleasing you. His thrusts became slower but deeper, more forceful, knocking out a gravely groan from your throat with each one. His hands left your breasts to tangle in your hair, pulling it up into a makeshift ponytail with his fist being the hair tie.

Your skin buzzed when he pressed his face into your neck to plant sloppy kisses. He bit down and you whined, arching your back against him and tilting your head to the side to provide him better access.

Unlike Rick, Daryl didn't have a care in the world. His mind was completely blank as he stared up at you above him, oblivious to the way his thumb cramped from the constant circles he rubbed into you.

“C'mere.” You breathed, wrapping your fingers in Daryl's hair to urge him up and guide his mouth to your nipples.

Daryl's eagerness to please was one of the hottest things you'd ever witnessed. He took your right nipple in his mouth and went to town like his life depended on it.

He flexed his tongue, digging the firm and wet muscle around your bud, circling it the same way his thumb now circled your clit.

Your orgasm came screeching out of nowhere.

You cried out and gripped Daryl's head tighter, pulling his mouth firm against your breast as you came.

The feeling of your walls squeezing the life out of his cock finally brought about Rick's own climax.

He wrapped his fist around the hair bundled in his grasp and tugged your head to the side, baring your neck to his itching teeth, and clamped down as he gave a rough thrust.

You'd failed to notice that at some point Daryl had grown hard again, only noticing when he let out a ragged moan into your wet chest.

Your bleary eyes found him and caught sight of his hand quickly jerking himself. There was the flash of thick cum spurting out, long ropes coating the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck.” You slurred. Now that was the new hottest thing you'd ever seen.

Rick's teeth released their grip on your neck. He pulled back and let his head droop back as he caught his breath, his shoulders heaving with deep and ragged pants. He became aware of how uncomfortably sweaty he was. His chest and back felt soaked, and he dropped your hair to pull away from you.

You heard Rick plop down on the bed behind you, the springs creaking from his sudden weight dropping on it all at once. You were too busy admiring Daryl to pay attention to it.

There was a lazy smile on your face, your eyes half lidded and glued to his face. Even though the room was dark you were sure you could see how red his cheeks were. His lips were glossy and parted as he took in deep breaths, still wet from drooling all over your tits.

He could barely keep his eyes open, and with the way you had one hand cupping his face, the other brushing back his sweaty hair, he wasn't sure he wanted to. The sweet way you were looking down at him was just too hard to look away from.

The next morning wasn't as awkward as one would think, even though it was obvious Rick was having some internal battle on the ethics of what he'd done the night before. He'd never been in a situation where he knew he really shouldn't be doing something like that, so his lack of restraint was new knowledge he'd have to ponder over.

Daryl couldn't give any less of a fuck, that morning he gave you the whole princess treatment. Grabbing your now dry clothes, your bag, your shoes, and bringing them to you. Offered you the last of his water and opened every door you came across for you. He didn't say much at all, much like Rick, but his mood was clearly the exact opposite.

It was so sweet it made your heart ache.

“Hey.” Rick pulled you aside after you finally got back home, shooting Daryl a look to give the two of you privacy.

“Hi.” You smiled. The stern look on his face was cute.

“What we did-”

“Don't.” You stopped him, giving the man a tired smile. “It was the sexiest thing I've ever done and I'm fine with it being a one time thing, but don't ruin it and tell me it was wrong.”

“I wasn't going to say that.” His gaze had softened, but he still looked down at you with his hands on his hips like a disappointed authority figure. “I just don't want you to think it's okay to bring up if we're all alone again.”

“I'm not stupid.” You snorted, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “Won't bring it up again.”

He sighed in frustration, trying not to roll his eyes but failing. “No, it ain't that either. Let's just- next time,” your eyes widened, “not be as spontaneous.”

You grinned. “Alright. You got it.”

Daryl was nowhere near as reserved about the experience. You could understand Rick's point of view, conservative family man, that was probably the most extreme thing he'd ever done in bed. But Daryl, oh, you'd just changed his fucking world.

“Pst.”

You stopped in front of the bathroom to see Daryl nodding you over, lighting a cigarette as he stood near the door to his room.

“Hi.” You smiled after approaching him.

“You okay?”

You beamed at the question, shifting your pile of clothes in your arms. “Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?”

He nodded as he took the first pull, turning his head to blow the smoke away from your face. “Is, uh…” He nodded his head to the front door, where Rick still stood on the porch talking to a few people. “He alright?”

“He's fine.”

“Alright. Good.” He shifted awkwardly. He cleared his throat, looking down at the cherry on his cigarette before bringing it back up to his lips. “That somethin' you wanna do again?”

You pursed your lips in an attempt to hide the ecstatic smile that threatened to embarrass you, and nodded.

He let out a breath that sounded like a laugh of relief and disbelief. There were a few seconds of silence, his eyes darting between his cigarette and your face. “With me?”

“Of course. Maybe next time just you.” You turned to head back to the bathroom but quickly turned on your heel and walked back to him. “Daryl? When did you,” you struggled to get the words out, ironic considering how bold youd been the night before, “you know, wake up?”

“Oh.” He grunted, his ears burning. “Dunno. While before.”

You felt a mix of embarrassment and relief. So he had pushed his knee between your legs on purpose. The thought had your stomach flipping and your face getting warm, so you gave a quick and polite smile before running off to the bathroom.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @jinx-nanami

[pencil-n-pen]

I WANT AN INNOCENT LOVE

.☘︎ ݁˖

──────────────────────

alexandria! rick grimes x fawn! fem! reader

masterlist | kofi

summary: you’re a new addition to alexandria. Rick’s just looking out for his group. That’s the only reason he finds himself drawn to you. Nothing else.

cw: LEGAL age gap (it is big, i imagine reader in her early 20s) canon typical depictions of violence, Rick is kinda mean to reader at first, Rick kind of struggles with the age gap a little, dom! Rick, slight possessive rick

tags/tropes: shy and skittish reader, she’s not used to dealing with people but she’s not helpless, honestly she’s just a sweet and soft person who became what everyone becomes in the apocalypse, hurt/comfort, insecurity, touch-starved reader a bit, YEARNING, no saviors or whisperers just Rick and everyone living happily in alexandria. Daryl is also here and he’s kind of like ur uncle bc i love daryl and i say so

a/n: i have nothing to say other than this is so insanely self indulgent it’s not even funny. nobody asked for this but writing it has kept me sane while i’m couch ridden. everything is terrible rn but rick grimes <3333

songs i listened to while writing: We'll Never Have Sex by Leith Ross, Work Song by Hozier (Rick's theme song) you were mine by Esha Tewari, Do I Wanna Know- Hozier's Cover, Somethin' Stupid by Nancy & Frank Cinatra, Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley (i'm so not normal about that entire album) Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers, Little Bit by Lykke Li (the original not the remix)

title taken from Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers

──────────────────────

₊ ⊹❀

You were just a little thing when you showed up at the gates.

All wide-eyed and skittish at the tree-line, clothes hanging awkwardly off your frame. Scuffed and dirty, when Rick goes up to the tower to scout you out.

You don’t quite come close enough for anyone to get any kind of information on you. Name, age, where you’ve been, what you’re doing at the gates.

These are all questions Rick, as leader, needs answers to.

If he could just convince you to get close enough.

Under different circumstances, he’d just let you do whatever it is you’re planning on doing, but the lurking is starting to make people uneasy. And he figured he ought to do something to ease their concerns. Easiest way is to either get you inside the walls or find answers to those questions.

You’re real good at staying out of reach, though. And you never stay in one place for long. By the time two weeks have gone by, you’ve made it around the entire length of the walls. Just to end up right where you started: the gates.

It’s just past the crack of dawn- dew is still lingering on the plants and grass and the sun’s rays have yet to actually provide warmth. Rick is up, making his rounds and checking in when one of the guards on rotation lets him know that you’re at the gates. Only time you’ve ever been that close.

So they’re opened, and you amble in— light-footed and unsure. Honestly, you remind him a bit of Daryl with your obvious hesitance to be in the company of other people and clear inclination towards nature. But where Daryl is hard edges and reclusiveness, you’re… softer.

A small group of people —curious onlookers, mostly— forms behind Rick as he saunters towards you, and he watches the moment you see the reality of your decision and begin to regret it.

He comes to a stop a few feet away from you, letting the silence hang in the air for a bit.

He finally takes you in with his own two eyes, without the aid of the binoculars, and he examines. Catalogs the nervous twitch of your hands and scuffs and scrapes he can see on the visible scraps of skin. Eyes the way you worry your lip between your teeth and can’t decide if you’re going to keep staring at him or look away- your mind clearly torn between vigilance and submission.

“You finish your tour of Alexandria?” He asks dryly.

You blink up at him, eyes wide. “Are you the leader of this safe-zone?”

He nods. “Sure am.”

You begin fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly. The small motion draws his attention back to your hands, where me notices bandaids practically covering the entire surface of your skin. He files the information away in his head for later.

“Are you currently accepting new members?”

He can’t help but crack a smile at your question. The way you phrase it and your nervous demeanor remind him so much of the times before the dead started walking— you look like a college student looking for a job, not somebody trying to find refuge here, after the end of the world.

“Depends,” He rests his hands on his hips, and he notes the way your eyes dart to the gun at his side before back up to him, “You got any skills to offer? You alone? Or do you got a group waitin’ for you?”

Your lip is raw from where you release it from your teeth.

“I’m really good at mending. I’m a proficient hunter. I can hold my own in a fight. And I’m alone.”

At the admittance of your lack of company, you shift back a few steps, a subtle re-distribution of weight.

Ain’t been socialized a whole bunch, Rick thinks to himself. He’s willing to bet you either don’t have a lot of positive experiences with large groups of people or you just plain ain’t been around em’ much.

He hums. “You killed anybody?”

“Walkers or live?”

“Either.”

You shift your shoulders. He’s starting to wonder just how many nervous actions you have.

“I don’t think anybody lives alone who hasn’t killed walkers.”

“And the living?”

You don’t move, but your eyes look to the ground, not at him.

Shame. Fear.

“Twice.”

“How come?”

“They wanted my supplies. Wanted me dead. I decided I didn’t want to die.”

He looks you over again. You really are a cute little thing. He thinks, absentmindedly in the back of his head, that something like you shouldn’t have bloody, bandaid covered hands. Shouldn’t have a kill count.

But he dismisses the thought. The end of the world leaves no room for those unwilling to do what’s necessary.

He dips his head. “We’ll get you settled in,” He jerks his head to the some of the guys behind him. “They’ll get you sorted out. Get along, now.”

You slink past him, distance carefully measured as you go.

Your eyes don’t quite leave him, though. There’s a moment- either you pause or his mind slows. Maybe a bit of both. But the air stills, and your gaze locks on him for the first time since he saw you, nestled in that tree line. The memory is clear and vivid- the sun shining through the trees, dappling you in shades of amber and grey. And then he’s here, and you’re looking up at him, eyelashes fluttering, and the sun has risen just enough that it casts a similar glow, the only difference now he can see up close just how the light catches on your face, just how he knows your features would look so different, so much softer if you were cleaned, if someone minded the cuts and scrapes.

And then you step away, and he snaps out of his reverie. He blinks a few times at your retreating form, shakes his head, and then busy’s himself with other work. There’s always something to be done.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the image of you gazing up at him, bathed in the early morning sun out of his mind.

—

A few days pass, and Rick sees little of you. He’s almost positive it’s on purpose. The few times he does see you, you look scared. And then, generally, you manage to make some sort of fleet-footed escape. The repeated spotting and fleeing reminds him of the time he accompanied Daryl on a hunt and startled a doe.

He can’t quite figure out why you’re afraid of him, though. He remembers being fairly decent to you when you arrived, and tried coaxing you towards the gates politely before you’d shown up on your own.

The sight of your scared expression ends up stuck fast in his head, usually super-imposed over the image of you on that morning at the gates. Two different versions of you, neither making any sort of sense.

He decides that it’s probably best that he stick away, if he scares you. You’ll settle, your ruffled feathers’ll smooth.

And he’ll stop thinking about you.

—

Neither do you settle or does he stop thinking about you.

He watches you from a distance, careful. You just… don’t relax. Ever. You creep away from every possible opportunity to connect with others like it might grow jaws and bite- you shrink back or freeze. Like you think if you play dead, if you don’t move, they’ll leave you alone.

He’s wondering what you hoped to accomplish by seeking refuge in Alexandria if this is how you act. You’re going to have a bad go of things if this is your plan. Or maybe you plain haven’t even thought that far.

He snags Daryl’s arm as he passes by.

“Wha—“

“The new girl,” Is all Rick says, still watching you remarkably avoid everyone who passes you. “She’s real skittish.”

Daryl follows his eyeline, finding you easy enough.

“Mm. She ain’t settlin’?”

“No.”

Daryl just hums again. “Well, she ain’t got nobody, does she?”

“So?”

The hunter shrugs. “Can’t relax. Ain’t got nobody to watch her back, take a watch. She’ll settle. Might take her a bit of time.”

Rick huffs. “She’s afraid of me.”

“No she ain’t,” Daryl snorts, “And since when does Rick Grimes care whether other people like him well enough?”

Rick doesn’t respond, just keeps watching you.

Daryl follows Rick’s gaze, then breathes out a low sigh.

“She is a pretty little thing, ain’t she?”

“That is not what this is about.”

Daryl levels him with a look. “Sure it’s not.“

“She’s half my age. I could damn well be her father.”

“But ya ain’t.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is the point, Rick?” Daryl sighs again, crossing his arms. “Either do something about it or move on. You got too many people dependin’ on ya for you to be eyeing up flighty young girls.”

Rick rolls his shoulders. “You make me out to be such a creep.”

The other man claps him on the shoulder. “Then stop acting like one.”

He attempts to take Daryl’s advice to heart. It’s an annoying truth that Daryl always knows exactly what Rick needs to hear. Not necessarily what he wants to hear, but what needs to be said.

And he is being creepy. He shakes his head as he walks away. Watching you, thinking about you. He can’t. That’s— you’re too young to be thinking any kind of thing like that.

No matter how there’s this half second, before you look scared, where you almost look relieved. No matter how he wants to personally take care of the bumps and scrapes on your face, wants to take off the bandaids and examine what’s beneath them.

Daryl was right. He needs to focus. Carl, Judith, everyone- they need him.

You’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

—

You’ve gone missing.

Rick has been doing his best to heed Daryl’s advice— he stopped looking for you in the crowds, stopped trying to figure you out, stopped watching you from afar. He even made a fairly decent attempt to stop thinking about you. Not that the effort proves especially fruitful, but he tried, damnit.

All of those efforts go straight out the window when Daryl tells him that no one’s seen you since yesterday.

It takes him two seconds to grab his gun and follow Daryl out the door.

He barely remembers to tell Carl where he’s going, which scares him, because he doesn’t quite understand what’s been so invasive to his mind and day-to-day activities about you. Your eyes, the soft curve of your cheek, how you might feel in his hands.

They cloud his judgment. Make him do stupid reckless things like search Alexandria high and low for any sign of you.

He doesn’t find any. He searches the place you’re staying— nothing. Only sign of life is the unmade bed and bandaid wrappers in the trashcan by the bed.

He sighs deep and low as he stands over your bed. “Think she had enough? High-tailed it?”

Daryl leans against the doorway. “Nah. She likes it here well enough. She ain’t stupid enough to leave a good thing like this.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve spoken to her?”

Daryl shrugs. “Few times. She don’t like talkin’ too much, but I think she figures her and I similar.”

“She wrong?”

He scratches his beard. “A little. She fears situations and people the way a prey animal does. S’ why she’s a runner.”

Rick mulls Daryl’s words over as they scan the rest of the place but, of course, find nothing. There are no signs that you, specifically, live here. Nothing personal. Just the unmade bed and the bandaid wrappers in the trashcan.

The pair of them turn the entirety of Alexandria over in a matter of hours. He’s just about to call it quits, either wait for you to come back or send out a search in the morning when Daryl comes back over, telling him you’re at the gates.

As in, outside of them.

Opposite of how things went when you first showed up at the gates, people clear a path as he stalks towards you. They give the pair of you a nice, wide bubble. Even Daryl stays a few feet behind him.

The first thing he notices is that you’re covered in blood. From the way you’re holding yourself, most of it isn’t your own. There’s a backpack slung over your shoulder, but it’s not your usual one.

You won’t meet his eyes.

He stops an arms length away from you. “Where the hell were you?”

You shift backwards, away from him ever so slightly. “Scavenging.”

“Mhm, interestin’,” He says, rubbing his jaw, “Because the last scavenging party was yesterday. And you came back with everybody, so I’ll ask again. Where were you.”

Your eyes flick up from the ground for a moment, eying the people that have gathered to stare. He watches you mentally count them all, then attempt to put more distance between yourself and everybody else. Emphasis on attempt, because the second you take a step back, you stumble, wincing before righting yourself and going right back to scanning the crowd.

He works his jaw, anger and annoyance simmering just under the surface of his skin. He’s not going to get anything out of you here.

He grabs your wrist and turns, set in the direction of the medics.

He drags you along behind him, ignoring the little huffs or sharp intakes of pain when you walk a little too hard or too fast on your bad ankle.

You trip a few times as you go, and when you almost take Rick down with you, he sighs, pausing and turning.

The expression you give him is full of fear. He realizes, in the moment, that you might not remember where the medics are, so as far as you know, he’s angry at you and dragging you to a secluded area.

Guilt strikes him hard and fast, right in his chest.

Damn.

It’s too early to feel guilty about the random girl he allowed into Alexandria. Frightened eyes and shy nature aside.

He shakes his head once. “We’re going to see a doctor. Here, put your arm around me.”

He has to lower himself a little for you to drape your arm across the back of his neck. Your fingertips brush his shoulder, and he can feel the way you’re shaking.

It’s slow going from then on, with Rick acting as your crutches.

“Where were you? And don’t bullshit me.”

“Scavenging.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” You nudge the backpack still strapped to your back. “I was… looking for something. I can’t look for it with the others.”

“What the hell is it that you can’t look for it with the others?”

“A body.”

Your response hangs in the air, thick and heavy.

“…Family or friend?”

“Friend. Haven’t found her yet.”

Something clicks into place in his mental file about you. He feels like he just gained a new piece of the puzzle.

He readjusts your weight over his shoulder, tucking you a little closer and steadfastly pretending he doesn’t hear the little gasp you let out at the contact. Whether it was from pain or surprise, he can’t let himself think about it.

“Don’t go out by yourself. If you need to look, take Daryl with you.”

You sag a bit into him. “Okay.”

He glances down at you from the corner of his eye. You’re… pliant. You’d agreed quickly, and showed absolutely no fight or unwillingness when he, admittedly, manhandled you. You’d followed dutifully behind him and then simply allowed him to position your arms the way he wanted them.

There’s another little parasite that burrows into his brain right there. Right as he’s got you in his grip.

He slows to a stop, a little question forming in his head. He slips the arm that had been wrapped around your waist away, instead curls his fingers across your chin and jaw. He tilts your head up, looks down at your face, searching it for… something.

He meets no resistance. You only stare up at him, doe eyes blinking. He tilts your head to the left, then to right, and still, nothing.

Huh.

He lets go, and you shudder, a full body shiver. And he thinks, in this moment, that he could do whatever he wanted, and you might let him. He could break you, like this.

It’s a very dangerous thing, he decides. Because he doesn’t want to break you. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants to peel back the bandaids and see what’s under them. He wants to scrub the dirt from your face and give you soft clothes —his clothes— not those tattered rags that hang off your body.

You might let him do whatever he wants, but you’re the one who holds this power over him. You’re the one who made him sick— filled his head and clouded his judgement and made him the kind of man he never used to be.

But he can’t say any of that. Can’t even act on it. Not with someone young enough to be his daughter. He has a daughter for Christ’s sake. And a son.

So he just wraps his arm back around your waist and helps you to the medics.

—

“Rick,” Daryl says one afternoon, leaned on the post on the porch, “You’re drivin’ me crazy, here.”

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to help with that.”

“The fawn.”

He raises an eyebrow. “The fawn?”

“You know. That nervous little thing you keep pretendin’ you don’t want in your bed.”

“Daryl.”

The man just keeps fiddling with his crossbow. “What?”

“I can’t just— she’s half my age.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I got kids to think about, and—“

“Carl don’t give a shit and Judith is ten. Only thing she’s concerned about is sneakin’ sweets.”

He entertains the notion in his head, thinks about what pursuing you might be like.

Something occurs to him.

“She ever get close to you?”

“No,” Daryl huffs, always knowing exactly what Rick means, “Keeps about an arm’s distance away. No matter what. She’s been inchin’ closer recently, but not by much.”

His hand on your face, moving it this way and that without any resistance at all, your body pliant in his grip—

“Hm,” Is all Rick says, crossing his arms.

“Why fawn?”

Daryl shrugs. “Looks like one. Kinda acts like one, around you.”

“No she doesn’t.”

Daryl levels him with a look. “Yes, she does. And based on the way you’ve been actin’, you like it.”

He opens his mouth to refute the point because no, he doesn’t like it, he just constantly thinks about how far he could take it, what you would let him do, if he could make you his.

And then he thinks ‘oh.’ Maybe he does like it.

He drops his hands to his hips. “What exactly am I supposed to do, then?”

“I don’t know. Ain’t my area of expertise.”

“You’re the one who knows her better, said I was drivin’ you crazy.”

“So? I don’t know jack shit about romance, Rick.”

“Well, you keep calling her a fawn. How different can it be?”

Very different, his mind supplies. You know that.

Now it’s Daryl’s turn to sigh. “Don’t overwhelm her. She’s a nervous little thing, but she likes you. Once she figures out you ain’t gonna hurt her, she’ll latch on.”

“That’s specific. You deal with fawns a lot?”

He snorts. “No. I’m fuckin’ guessin’ here.”

The two men fall into silence, Daryl fiddling or cleaning his bow— Rick ain’t paying that much attention to him.

He’s thinking about you. You, you, you. Your eyes and your face and your hands and the figure you carefully keep hidden under layers of clothing, even under the hot Virginia sun.

Fawn, he thinks to himself.

Fitting.

—

He doesn’t make a plan or something stupid like that. He just thinks. And then he decides.

“You’re really coming with us?” Glenn asks, pack slung over his shoulder.

“Yep,” Rick says, holstering his gun, “Goin’ stir crazy in there. Just needa get out for a bit.”

You’re quiet as you get your things in order, but the group doesn’t bat an eye. They’re used to your silence, it seems.

You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, though. You look away every time you think he’s looking at you, but he’s good at looking at you out of the corner of his eye, so he sees it.

Throughout the run, you hover near him, never quite going out of range of his field of vision. He’s impressed by how quietly and efficiently you work- you spot things even he wouldn’t have. All the while watching for walkers, and of course, subtly eyeing Rick.

Despite being the leader, he heads up the back and watches for stragglers. He didn’t really come out cause he was stir-crazy, anyway.

He came out for you. He wanted to watch you work, wanted to do it with you.

To your credit, you work well with the others. You’re a woman of few words with them, but you help where you can and stay civil. Even if you don’t quite get close to any of them.

Except Rick.

As they’re scavenging an abandoned house, a few walkers shuffle out from the trees. Not enough to be a problem— the group outnumbers them easy. But you’re all busy getting supplies and he’s trying to keep an eye out, so he takes them out, one by one.

It really isn’t a huge thing for him, couple walkers ain’t really a big deal, but you notice.

Your eyes are trained on him, clothes now dirty with blood and gore.

He tilts his head, then makes his way over to you.

“You, um,” You say as he gets closer, voice a little hoarse, “Are you alright?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. It’ll take more than a few walkers to take me out.”

You blink. “Oh.”

He snorts a little laugh. “You ain’t too good at this whole conversation thing, huh?”

You flush, looking away. “Sorry. I’m just not… used to having them.”

You look up at him, earnest. “But I’ve been practicing!”

Oh, lord have mercy over his poor soul. You’ve done a full 180– turned from being afraid of him to very obviously wanting his approval.

“That’s good, that’s good. Who you been practicin’ with?”

“Daryl.”

“Now, that ain’t no good.”

You frown, shifting in place. “It’s not?”

“Well, it’s good that you’re tryin’,” He amends, “But Daryl ain’t good for conversation practicin’. He’s a little too much like you. Much too inclined to just sit in silence.”

“Oh.”

You pause, taking your lip between your teeth and mulling something over in your head.

“Would you, um.” You look up at him, clearly nervous.

And he can’t help himself really, from leaning down into your space a bit, a low “Hmm?” humming from his chest.

Your reaction is instant. This close, he can see the exact moment a flush crawls across your face, to even the tips of your ears.

And he’d suspected, you know, based on your behavior with him. But this— cold hard evidence that he makes you nervous. That you want him on you.

It’s cute. Real cute.

You steel yourself against your own nervousness, and he wants to coo at you.

“Would you practice with me?”

He leans back against the post, slides his hands into his pockets. “Course. Ain’t much to it.”

You smile. It’s small, a quiet sort of thing, but it’s there. He made you smile.

You gesture to the house behind you. “I’m. Gonna go back to scavenging. Um. Thanks.”

You turn on your heel, fleeing back into the house. He watches you go, something settling right into place in his chest.

You stick a little closer to him for the rest of the run.

—

After that day, you begin seeking him out. You don’t approach him right away, preferring to to trail behind him for a little bit before finally making a move.

The move being a quiet: “Hi, Rick.”

Today’s no different, other than it being a little later when you do find him. He’s taking a little stroll around, as is his usual. It… settles him, to see everything alright with his own two eyes.

Settles him even more when he hears the quiet patter of your footsteps behind him.

He chuckles. “Afternoon, darlin’.”

Your foot steps speed up, fall into step somewhat beside him. “Hi, Rick.”

“Hi,” He says, smile tugging at his lips. “How was your day?”

You clasp your hands behind your back as you walk. “Good. Weren’t many walkers on today’s run. I got something for Judith.”

“Oh? Let’s see it, then.”

You take something out of your pocket and hold it out to him.

It’s a pocket knife. One of those multi-tool ones.

And it’s pink.

“I know it’s a cliche, the girls knife being pink, and she is only ten, but I saw it and I thought of her, and—“

“It’s perfect,” He interrupts before you can start spiraling. “She’s gonna love it.”

You deflate almost instantly. “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure.”

You walk for a few minutes before remembering the point of you coming up to him.

“Um. How was your day?”

He huffs a little, too fond to be upset. “Fairly decent. Ain’t got too much going on now.”

“That’s… good?”

He shrugs. “Just a little borin’. How’s that ankle of yours?”

This is usually how your conversations go. A few easy, back and forth questions. Easing you into talking to people, keeping conversations going. You’ve slowly gotten more confident. You talk a little longer, voice sounds a little more expressive.

“Fine.” You say, a little too quickly.

He narrows his eyes. “Really? No pain at all?”

It’s the looking away that sells it. You never look at him when you’re lying. Can’t stand to.

“No. It’s fine.”

He kicks his foot out a little, the toe of his boot just barely catching your ankle.

It’s a little more effective than he wanted. You let out a little yelp of pain and stumble forward, ankle almost immediately buckling.

He darts forward, catching you under the stomach with one arm.

You hang there a little, arms dangling.

“Fine, huh?” He hefts you up, so you’re back to standing upright, though now, visibly favoring your ankle. “So what’d the doctor tell you when I dropped you off?”

“Rest, ice, compression, and elevation.”

“And which of those four have you been ignorin’?”

“…”

“Hey,” He says, tapping the side of your jaw with two fingers. “Don’t lie to me.”

“All of them,” You wince, “I just didn’t want to be useless. I can walk on it fine. You haven’t even noticed until now!”

Your voice goes a little high at the end, a little desperate.

He thinks about how animals that are lower on the food rung don’t show pain. A deer will break a leg and keep walking until it drops, till it slows too much and something picks it off.

But you ain’t an animal, and nothing’s gonna pick you off.

“That’s true,” He says, “But that don’t make it right. You’re just prolonging the healing process.”

You look down. “…You were mad. I didn’t want to make you more upset by being useless.”

Ah. So that’s what it’s all about.

His approval, once again.

“I’d rather have you useless for a week than useless forever because you didn’t rest properly,” He ignores the hypocrisy of it, the fact that he’s ignored medical advice more times than he can count.

“I really am fine, mostly,” You say meekly, “It’s stopped hurting when I walk. It’s just a little unstable.”

“I still want you taking it easy for a little, you hear me?”

You nod.

“Nah,” He moves, standing in front of you, more than a little in your personal space, “I wanna hear you say it. Use your words.”

It’s a little test of sorts. To see how you’ll respond. What you’ll say. If you’ll listen.

You swallow, eyelashes fluttering. “I hear you. I understand.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Take it easy.”

“That’s right,” You’ve been nice and obedient, so he figures you deserve a little reward. “Good girl.”

He hears your sharp intake of breath, watches your eyes get a little glassy.

Aw, that��s all you wanted. Just wanted to be someone’s good girl.

His good girl.

He nods towards your place. “Get along, now. Do I have to walk you to your door?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll go. I will. Uh— bye.”

He watches you scamper away, gait a little uneven, hands clenched at your sides.

I can get used to this.

—

It becomes a little thing, after that.

When you’re not busy with your own responsibilities, you’re usually with him. Either right beside him, or trailing a few feet behind. Your company is quiet and calm, like waves from a lake lapping gently at the shore.

You also begin to settle in with the rest of the group. You’re still more inclined to be near Rick or, if he’s not available, Daryl, but once you become comfortable talking with people, Maggie and Glenn are quickly added to your slowly growing roster of safe people.

Judith has loved you ever since she found out that you’re the one who gave her the most beloved pink pocket knife, and enjoys babbling and talking your ear off about nothing the way that ten year olds do.

Carl grows to appreciate your presence too, finding solace in the fact that you don’t feel the need to fill silence with conversation.

You still act different when Rick is around, though. Especially when it’s just the two of you.

With everybody else, you’re subtly but very strictly independent- despite growing close with the group, you still maintain a slight distance with most of them, and prefer doing things yourself, by yourself. Old habits die hard, he supposes.

But when you’re alone, just Rick and you, those hard edges soften, and your little personal bubble pops. He’s steadily growing obsessed with the change.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Having such a cute little thing follow him around, hanging off his words. Most days, it’s all he can do not to throw you over his shoulder and carry you to bed.

And then one day, he does. Kind of.

It must be the middle of the night, but the second he hears the knock at his door, he’s wide awake.

He hushes both Carl and Judith back to bed, then creeps to the front door with his hand on his gun. He has never, in his entire life, been awoken in the middle of the night to good news.

When he opens the door he sees you. And Daryl, but he’s really focused on you. You’ve got tears streaming down your face, you’re wearing a strange combination of sleep clothes and the clothes he’s seen you wear to do runs. Your boots are on, but not tied.

“Wha—“

“Caught her sneaking towards the gates, all shaken up. Figured it’d be wiser to take her here then back to her place.”

Daryl pats your head once. “Don’t do anythin’ stupid.”

Then Daryl’s gone, and you’re standing on Rick’s porch, still crying.

“Alright, come here now.”

He barely manages to get the door closed before you fall into him, face pressed to his chest and hands grasping the front of his shirt.

He hesitates for just a moment before wrapping his arms around you.

“Shh, shh. You’re alright, you’re alright now.”

He presses one hand to the nape of your neck, keeping you tucked close as you crack, just a little bit, nearly silent tears staining his shirt and tremors wracking your body.

Eventually, he guides you over to the couch, situates himself before helping you into a more comfortable position. He wraps your arms around his neck, your legs draped across his lap and the couch.

He keeps one hand pressed to your neck, the other rubbing slow circles on your back.

He presses his cheek to the crown of your head, breathing in deep and slow, a curl of satisfaction rising in his chest when you unconsciously mimic his breathing, silent sobs slowing, tremors fading.

Once you’ve calmed down enough, he speaks.

“What’s got you so worked up, huh? What happened sweetheart?”

The pet name slips out of his mouth unbidden, but honestly, he wouldn’t take it back.

“Nightmare,” You sniffle. “Daryl was gone and it was my fault and you hated me.”

“Well, none of that happened now, did it?”

You shake your head.

“No, that’s right. Daryl’s just fine, and I ain’t upset with you. You’re alright.”

You take in a few shaky, shuddering breaths.

He shifts, readjusting and tucking you closer to him. “Now, how come you didn’t come to me? Daryl said you were headin’ to the gates.”

You go a little rigid. “Didn’t think I was allowed. Didn’t want to wake you up for something stupid.”

“Oh, none of that now,” He nudges you away a little, taking your face in his hands. He needs eye-contact while he says this, “You need something, you come to me. I don’t care what it is, I don’t care what time it is. You come to me, you understand?”

You nod, lip wobbling a bit. “I understand.”

He thumbs your cheekbone. “Good. Now come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”

In the morning, the kids are a little surprised to see your rumpled form at the kitchen table, but both recover fairly quickly. Judith especially, who rejoices at the prospect of someone other than Carl or her father whom she can hold hostage with inane, ten year old questions.

But you never quite shake that haunted look in your eyes. Like there was something else— something more in that nightmare, something that dug its little claws in and stuck fast.

It’s all he can do but pray it doesn’t last.

—

It becomes an unspoken thing that wherever Rick is, you’re nearby. Kind of like a little puppy, following him about and hoping for a treat.

He indulges you, because he can’t really help himself in the face of those eyes.

He also knows it’s the easiest way to get you to smile, which he’s been trying to bring about more, since the nightmare. You’ve shaken that haunted expression for the most part, but every now and then, it’ll come back, if just for a few moments.

You’ve been absent most of the day today, off on a run, and he wishes it didn’t get under his skin so much to not have his favorite girl right there behind him.

You’re his stress relief, and you don’t even know it. Don’t even do anything really, just kind of linger about with your adorable little face and occasionally help with your cute little hands. He’s hopelessly obsessed.

You’re smiling when you get back, bee-lining straight for him.

“Well, well,” He says, resting his hands on his hips, “What do we have here?”

“I got you something,” You say, practically vibrating with excitement, slinging your backpack off and rifling through it.

“Oh, something for me? Can’t wait to see it.”

You pull an honest to god polaroid camera out of your bag.

“You said once that you wished you had pictures of your kids to carry with you, and I found this, and it still works, and it still has film in it. I checked.”

You thrust it out to him, and he extracts it carefully from your hands, holding it with an almost reverence.

A camera. A working film camera.

You shuffle in place, and he realizes he’s been staring at it in silence for more than a few minutes. “…Do you like it?”

“I love it,” He says honestly, voice just a little scratchy, because he doesn’t understand how someone can survive the zombie apocalypse, and still end up so damn kind, and so damn sweet. “I’m so touched, sweetheart.”

You beam up at him. If you had a tail, you’d be wagging it. He’s never understood cuteness aggression until this very moment. He just can’t. He wants to squeeze you as hard as he can or just punch a wall or some stupid shit.

God, he’s pushing forty, he needs to get this under control.

“I was really excited when I found it. Tara took a picture of me to test it.”

You pull out a little polaroid picture, film developed, and he takes that with reverence too. In the picture, you’re smiling, that same soft, little smile you do when you’re really happy about something and don’t know how to express it. Your hands show two peace signs, a knife clutched in one.

That’s my girl, he thinks.

“Might just have to keep this,” He says, dumb smile on his face.

“Really?”

“Really. You know, it’s good luck to keep a picture of a pretty girl with you.”

“Pretty?” You squeak, flushing. It’s so easy to make you flustered. He loves it.

“Mhm,” He says, tucking the photo into one of the compartments on his belt, keeping it safe. “Real pretty, I’d say.”

“Oh.” You say, more than a little breathless. “Um.”

Oh, your poor little brain.

“You need a minute?” He snorts.

“Maybe?”

He chuckles, patting the top of your head. “Oh, you’ll be fine. Better get used to it.”

“You’re pretty too,” You blurt, then your eyes widen comically. “No, wait, I meant—“

He laughs, a real, actual laugh. “Me, a grown ass man- pretty. That’s a good one.”

You bury your face in your hands, a tiny little whine escaping your throat.

“Aw, come on, now. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m very flattered you think I’m pretty.”

“S’ not what I meant.” You mumble.

“No?” He says, prying your hands off your face. “What’d you mean, then?”

You look away, unable to meet his eyes.

“You’re… handsome.” You whisper the last part, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Aw, what’d I do to deserve a young thing like you thinking an old man like me is handsome?”

You mumble something again, a little too quiet for him to hear.

“…afe.”

He leans down. “What was that, now?”

“You’re safe.”

Oh.

That’s… not the answer he was expecting.

But he likes it.

Rick is a leader. A protector.

And you need him.

“I make you feel safe?” He hums, resisting the urge to step closer to you because you’re very much out in the open and he knows how you feel about wide open spaces, especially when there’s people in them. He’s torturing you enough as it is. “That why you linger around me, huh?”

Feeling bolder at his interest, you nod.

“You make me feel like… something special. Protected.”

Yes.

He’s always known that he needs to be needed. That he’s the kind of man who requires being a leader, taking care of what’s his, protecting.

To have verbal confirmation that he’s made you feel safe, protected, it’s.

Well it’s a lot more than he can unpack in front of the gates.

“Pretty little thing like you needs protectin’.”

You frown.

“Not because you’re incapable,” He amends, hands raised, “But because I rather like doing it.”

You lean closer, and he follows, heat rising—

“Please, save us all the pain of havin’ to watch, Rick.”

He grins, nose brushing yours, then steps back.

“Maybe stop creepin’ around, Daryl.” He calls to the other man, who just shrugs, ambling on by.

But Daryl does have a point. He doesn’t want an audience. You’re not that kind of girl.

Instead, he reaches down, snakes an arm around your waist and leads you away from the open space, towards his house instead.

“Come on, sweetheart. Think you’d rather be somewhere quiet for what I’m about to do.”

The heat radiating from your body and the shiver he feels under his palm is all the confirmation he needs.

His little fawn, finally his.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

[inthe-dark-tonight]

three days too long

rick grimes x fem!reader

summery: you wake up to a surprise after rick comes back from a three day long supply run

word count: 1.8k

warnings: prison era, secret relationship, reader is down bad for rick (just like me), smut, p in v sex, light biting??? idk

notes: well……. i’ve been rewatching the walking dead so naturally my rick era has resurfaced and i’m not sorry. expect more to come. thank you to my love @joelsversion for reading this over for me ILYSM!!! <3

You’re not sure when he got back or how long you had been asleep before he quietly snuck past the white sheets covering the door to your cell.

Rick had been gone on a supply run for three days, not knowing it would take that long when he left alongside Daryl and Glenn. You spent those three days doing anything to keep your mind off him and where he was at. Taking watch in the tower with Maggie one morning, watching after Judith a few hours each day, tending to the gardens. None of it helped to keep your thoughts from drifting towards Rick.

You start to stir when you feel warmth pressed against your back, a large arm snaking under you to wrap around your waist, the other across your chest as you lay on your stomach. Warm breath fans over your neck, tickling you as a humming sound sends a vibration through you. At that moment you know it’s him. He’s finally back.

“Rick?” Your sleepy voice comes out barely a whisper as your eyes begin to flutter open.

The moonlight seeping in through the barred windows of the prison, filtering through the white sheets you keep up for a bit of privacy, creates enough light for you to make out his figure.

“Shhhh,” His deep voice sends a shiver down your back. “Missed you baby,” he whispers, lips lightly brushing over your ear before planting a kiss on your cheek.

You hum softly, nuzzling into your pillow and shifting to make yourself more comfortable. Your hips lift up from the bed, unintentionally pressing into Rick’s as he pulls you closer to him. He lets out a low groan before you lie still again, and you can feel his bulge starting to grow in his jeans.

“I missed you too.” You finally answer, turning your head over your shoulder to get a good look at him.

He must've washed up before coming to see you, you think to yourself. His face was clean for just coming back from a run, not a single smudge of dirt on his cheeks, his hair slightly damp where it curls around his neck and ears.

“Three days too long for you, hm?” He smiles and a deep chuckle escapes him before kissing your cheek once more.

You take in a deep breath, eyes falling shut. “Way too long.” You hum.

He continues kissing you, lips moving slowly down to your jaw, trailing down the side of your neck. The feeling of his beard against your soft skin tickles you, causing you to shrug your shoulders. A soft giggle leaves your lips as you try to wiggle away from him, causing him to hold you tighter.

“Mm mm, stay still.” He plants one last kiss on your shoulder before letting you go and shifting positions.

One arm holds him up, hovering above you, as the other reaches down for his belt buckle. The sound of his buckle coming undone sends heat straight to your core, and a second later you hear the sound of his zipper. You look down over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, a large hand wrapped around his fully erect cock as he pumps his fist a few times. When your eyes drift up to his, he’s already staring down at you, mouth parted and a hungry look on his face. You have to bite down, hard, on your bottom lip to suppress your moan.

This thing between you two hasn’t been going on for long, maybe a couple months at most. Ever since you first laid eyes on Rick, when he showed up at the camp in his sheriff's uniform over a year ago, you’ve been harboring a small crush. Even after finding out that same day that he was Lori’s supposedly dead husband, you couldn’t help yourself. And here you are now, trying to keep quiet, keep this thing a secret from the others. For now.

“Gonna stay quiet for me?” His head tilts to the side, eyes still locked on yours.

As soon as you nod your head, a silent promise, his hand releases his cock and finds its way to your shorts. He pulls them down along with your underwear, and the cool air hitting your already soaked cunt causes your hips to lift off the bed.

He leans back down, pressing his body against yours once again, his cock slipping between your legs and finding a spot between your wet folds as he positions himself. Both of his hands move to cover yours where they lay next to your head, intertwining his fingers with yours before slowly moving his hips back and forth, cock sliding effortlessly between your folds.

His lips are back at your ear as he slowly rocks back and forth, covering his length with your juices. “Three days was too long for me, too.”

Your stomach flutters at his words, walls clenching in anticipation. Rick rocks his hips, once, twice more through your folds before pulling all the way back, tip catching at your entrance.

“Rick,” you sigh. “Need you.”

“I know, baby.” He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, breathing you in before slowly thrusting fully into you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you bite your cheek, trying to hold back any noises. Once you're full he stills for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of his thick cock stretching you before he moves again. As he slowly pulls out, you can hear how wet you are.

“Shit.” Rick mumbles into your hair, moving one of his hands to grip at your waist.

Gently, he tilts your hips up, holding them there as he thrust back in. A soft moan escapes you, and you quickly stop yourself, biting at your lower lip harder than before. Rick doesn't say anything, instead he starts to quicken his pace, letting out soft groans as he fucks into you.

You reach your free hand back and bury your fingers in the dark curls at the back of his head, tugging at them lightly. He lets out a low grunt, muffled by your hair where his face is buried in your neck.

Rick lifts his head up, staring down at you with a slack jaw as he continues his deep thrusts. Although it’s quite dark in your cell, you can make out the beads of sweat starting to form around his temples, causing a few stray hairs to stick to his forehead. The moonlight creates a white glow around him, he’s pretty. You’ve thought that from the start, but especially like this. Panting above you as he thrusts his cock deep inside you, stifling the moans that threaten to escape his pink lips.

He leans down, tilting his head so his lips are less than an inch away from yours. You tilt your head up, brushing your nose against his as his eyes fall shut and he leans in to press his lips to yours. Immediately his tongue is asking for entrance, pushing past your lips and intertwining with your own. He hums, his chest vibrating against you as your lips move in sync.

The knot in your stomach starts to tighten as he hits all the right spots inside you, his thrusts never faltering. He holds your hips at the perfect angle, hitting you at just the right spot with each thrust. You pull your lips away from his for a moment, catching your breath as his forehead presses against yours.

“‘M close.” You say between breaths.

“Let me feel you.” His blue eyes look back into yours, desire swimming within them.

His hand leaves your hip, hooking his fingers under your jaw as his thumb rests on your lower lip, pulling it down ever so slightly before kissing you. His other hand lets go of yours where he’s holding it against the mattress, lightly brushing over the back of your neck to move your hair out of the way. Both of his rough hands rest on your shoulders as he places kisses on the back of your neck.

The sensation of his lips against your damp skin sends heat straight to your core, causing you to clench around his length as you fight the urge to cry out. You tug at his hair, harder this time, trying to pull him closer if it’s even possible. He lets out a low whine, sinking his teeth lightly into the skin at your shoulder, leaving an open mouthed kiss over the small mark left there as he plunges into you one last time. Your body stiffens, eyes squeezing shut as a white hot feeling shoots through you, the coil in your core finally coming undone.

“Ri-“ before you can finish crying out his name, his hand quickly covers your mouth.

You whimper as he presses his hand lightly against your mouth, your own hand quickly moving to grip his forearm as your walls flutter around him, drenching his cock. Your eyes squeeze shut as he continues to rock his hips back and forth, holding you tightly against himself as your orgasm washes over you. A deep muffled sigh leaves you as your body starts to relax, and you feel his thrusts start to slow down before he quickly pulls out, lifting himself off of you and aiming at the edge of the cot.

Through heavy lids you watch him, trying to catch your breath as you roll onto your side. He’s sat on the edge of the bed now, buttoning his pants as your eyes trace over his silhouette. When he looks back down at you, a small smirk grows on his face. He pushes his damp hair out of his face with his large hand and shakes his head back and forth before leaning down, only inches from your face.

“You better hope they didn’t hear you.” He says in a sarcastic tone, hand resting on your cheek as he kisses your lips softly.

A smile forms on your lips as he pulls away, then he stands up to fix his pants. As he slowly heads towards the doorway, he fastens his buckle. You quickly shoot up, sitting up right in your bed now.

“Wait!” You whisper.

He quickly turns towards you, a concerned look on his face as he looks over your form.

“Stay.” It’s not a question, and he knows that.

He nods his head, pausing for a moment before walking back towards the single cot. You turn towards the wall as he climbs in behind you, the springs beneath the mattress pad squeaking as he does so. When his arm wraps around you, you scoot closer so his warm chest is pressed against your back. He nuzzles into the back of your neck, burying his nose into your hair as you let out a content sigh, eyes falling shut as you slowly drift off to sleep.

“Missed you so much.” He whispers, barely loud enough to hear before you both fall asleep.

thank you for reading <3

[1800-fight-me]

Pretty

Rick Grimes x Female!Reader

Rating: E (Explicit- MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Explicit sex and Dominant!Rick (it's pretty much only smut)

Word count: About 3.4k

Synopsis: Rick becomes upset with you when you express that you don't feel pretty since the world ended and uses all his skills to convince you otherwise.

Author’s note: This is my first Rick fic! I know I'm soooooo late to the game but I started watching TWD the end of last year and am so obsessed and so in love with Daddy Rick so this is the result lol! If you like this fic please come talk to me!! I am desperate for people to obsess over Rick with lmao

P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Main Masterlist

“I miss hot showers,” Rosita said. 

There was a chorus of agreements around the small fire. 

“I miss chicken nuggets,” Carl said and you laughed along with everyone else. 

This wasn’t the worst off your group had ever been, but it had certainly been a long time since you had any of the luxuries of life before the world fell apart or even since living at the prison. 

Everyone avoided mentioning the real heavy hurts, the people you truly missed- the ones who hadn’t survived. No, this was supposed to be a lighthearted conversation, a way to end a day of blood and sweat and walkers on a good note. 

“I miss watchin’ movies,” Maggie said and you hummed in agreement. 

“What about you?” Carl asked you. 

You smiled at him and Judith babbled happily where she sat in your lap. 

“Books. I miss the library at the prison. Libraries in general, really,” you replied. 

“Nerd,” the teenager muttered with a roll of his eyes but the smile on his face gave away the fondness of his teasing. 

You laughed as you leaned back further against Rick’s chest. His arms tightened around you and his foot reached out and nudged Carl’s leg in teasing reprimand. 

The conversation continued on, everyone listing little luxuries they missed from their former lives. Things that had been long since forgotten for the sake of survival. As everyone spoke, although you agreed with them you realized you wouldn’t trade the family that you’d found for anything in the world. 

Glenn called your name and you realized your mind had wandered, thinking of the love you had for everyone sitting around the fire. Particularly thinking of the love you had for the man whose body currently enveloped your own, for his children that sat with you. 

“Hm?” 

“Your turn again,” he said. 

You weren’t sure why it was so important that you took another turn since Rick had been quiet this whole conversation. Your only indication that he was still awake was the small soothing circles his fingers rubbed on your arm. 

“Oh, ummm probably feelin’ pretty,” you said absentmindedly. 

“What?” Rick’s voice snapped out, low and in disbelief. 

His thumb pressed into your elbow and you could feel the sudden tension in his body pressed against yours. 

“Ya know, I miss gettin’ all dolled up and feelin’ pretty. Pretty dresses, goin’ to the nail salon, hairdos that aren’t only practical, makeup, jewelry, heels. Not somethin’ I cared about too much at the time, but still it was nice every once in a while. God, I can’t believe I miss wearin’ heels,” you said with a soft laugh. 

“Y’don’t need any of that to be pretty,” Rick said firmly. His hand slipped to your cheek and jaw and guided you to turn your head back enough to meet his gaze as he leaned forward. 

“I know, pretty isn’t the most important thing. I’ve survived, that’s what matters, that I’m alive-”

“You’re pretty everyday, baby. Even covered in walker blood and guts,” he said firmly then pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Your cheeks burned as you turned your head back around and realized that the conversation had not moved on without the two of you, that everyone was giving rapt attention to your interaction with Rick. 

“Okay,” you muttered quietly, “Daryl I think it’s your turn.” 

He took mercy on you and changed the subject. “I miss booze.” 

Many agreed with him and the conversation chugged right along. Eventually it dwindled out along with the fire as darkness continued to fall and the full moon rose, bathing everyone in its light. 

Camp was prepared for the night and you bundled up with Rick on the hard ground as he held you from behind. Judith slept in Carl’s arms only an arms length away from the two of you. 

Just when you started to doze off, the soft snores of the group lulling you to sleep, Rick gripped your hip. 

“You still awake?” he asked, his voice low and husky. 

“Mmhmm” 

“Good, get up and come with me, pretty girl,” he ordered as he stood. 

You let out a soft groan but took his offered hand and let him carefully guide you away from the camp and further into the woods. He nodded at Daryl who was on watch whose only response was a grunt and a wave of dismissal.

With a hand on your collar he gently pushed your back into a huge tree and said, “Stay here.” 

“Yes sir,” you muttered with an eyeroll as you yawned. 

You watched him place a hand on the gun stuck in the back of his pants as he walked a small perimeter around where he left you to ensure you were safe and completely alone. 

He came back with his gun holstered and your breath caught at the intensity with which he looked at you. 

He was doing that thing, that staring- refusing to speak first- intimidating thing. Heat rushed through your body. It didn’t matter if he was angry with you, you knew him well enough to know his intentions of pulling you here. Weeks on the road had left little time for just the two of you. 

“Are you upset with me or somethin’?” you finally broke the silence with a huff. 

“Maybe,” he said as he tilted his head. His eyes dragged up and down your body and your legs began to quiver. 

You glared at him. 

“I’m not playin’ twenty questions. You gonna tell me why?” you snapped. 

He stepped closer so his body was pressed against yours and you barely managed to hold in your groan at the firm heat of him. 

One hand gripped your waist and the other he placed around your neck- not squeezing but resting there- making sure you felt the potency of his presence, his dominance. 

“How dare you think you’re not pretty,” he finally breathed out. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes again even as you protested, “Rick.” 

His fingers tightened slightly on your throat. 

“You- you of all people don’t feel pretty? Don’t I tell you enough how beautiful I find you?” 

You breathed out his name again in protest to his words. “This is ridiculous-”

“I ain’t done talkin’,” he snapped. “You temptress. Your beauty ruined me. Wracked me with guilt. You’re the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen and I thought that even when my pregnant wife was still alive. Your beauty made me question what kind of man I am because I wanted you even then. The worst part was you didn’t even realize what you were doin’ to me for the longest time. And now, now that I have you. Now that you’re mine- you don’t feel pretty?” 

His breaths were coming heavy and his chest heaved against yours at the confession, at the hissed words in the darkness, the truth heavier than the humidity in the summer heat.

Oh. 

Oh.

You could barely breathe. 

“I didn’t- I’m sorry, I-” 

His firm lips against yours quieted your jumbled words and thought process. His kiss was harsh and demanding. His hand drifted up to the back of your head as he pulled you closer. The low growl he released made you whimper as you gripped at his shirt. He used the opportunity to plunge his tongue inside your mouth. 

You moaned at the taste of him, desperate for more. Your hands drifted down to the seam of his shirt and you started to tug, desperate for the feel of his skin against yours when he suddenly pulled back and took a step back from you. 

There was a wildness in his blue eyes and when you reached out for him he merely held your hand in his, but did not allow you to pull him closer. 

“Rick,” you practically whined. 

“No, it’s not ‘bout me tonight. No, you’re gonna understand exactly how pretty you are before I’m done with you.” He said the words like they were a threat of violence he’d give to an enemy and you felt yourself become wet with desire. 

You only nodded mutely.

“These hands, to start, these hands are pretty,” he said, his voice low as he grabbed your other hand and brought them both to his lips. “It’s real cute how you wave ‘em around when you’re talkin’ all passionate. And they hold the weapons you use to kill to protect our family. The way you touch me, how it feels so perfect when your hand is wrapped around my cock.” 

Your breaths shuddered as his lips began to make their way up your arm. “These hands and arms that hold my children with such tenderness.” His lips rounded your shoulder to reach your collarbone and you sighed in relief that he was finally close enough to feel him pressed against you. 

“This pretty neck that I’ve spent months dreaming about,” he mouthed at the sensitive skin of your throat and you whined as he bit down. 

His tongue soothed the small pain of the bite before he licked all the way up the column of your throat. 

“Please, need you-” you moaned and he pulled back to look you in the eyes again. 

“Patience, pretty baby,” he murmured as his hand caressed your cheek. 

You pressed your thighs together, a desperate and unfruitful attempt to get some sort of relief. The heat that filled your body for this man threatened to overwhelm you. Desperate, you were desperate for him. Rick was normally a filthy talker in bed, but this- this was something different. Even your heart burned with love and desire for him. 

“Your eyes are so pretty. I love that I can always tell exactly what emotion you’re always feeling just by lookin’ in ‘em. That they’re so intense no matter what,” he said with another swift kiss to your lips.

“Pretty forehead. Pretty cheeks. Pretty nose. Pretty chin. Pretty jaw,” he said and every sentence was punctuated by a kiss to the feature he was referring to. Here was a man who’d been inside you countless times and yet you felt bashful at this sort of attention from him.

A whimper slipped past your lips, and he pulled back- eyes devoted to the study of them. 

“Pretty lips. I love the sass that comes out of this gorgeous mouth even when you try my patience. Love the way your lips feel against mine. Love the pretty sounds you make when I’m inside you. Love how you look with my cock down your throat- prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he groaned and kissed you again. 

You could feel the passion in the movement of his lips against yours, in the way his tongue tangled with yours, in the desperate press of his body against yours. You didn’t even care that the rough bark of the tree dug into your back as your frantic desire for him overwhelmed you. 

He pulled your shirt up over your head and dropped it on the ground beside you. Your core clenched at the groan he released at the sight of you in your bra. 

“Prettiest tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.” He pulled the bra off immediately, chucking slightly at the knife he had to catch from falling from where you’d stored it in the bra earlier in the day. 

You giggled slightly. “It comes in handy,” you said with a shrug as he dropped the knife on top of the growing pile of your clothes. 

“I don’t doubt that,” he replied but any quip back disappeared from your mind as his large calloused hands enveloped your breasts and you moaned. 

“Quiet, baby, you don’t wanna wake anybody up or draw any walkers,” he reminded you. 

You bit your lip and nodded as you did as you were told. 

His hands squeezed and caressed your breasts before he leaned down and replaced one of his hands with his mouth. He kissed, and licked, and finally sucked at your sensitive nipples. Your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your moan as your other hand plunged into the curls at the back of his head to pull him closer. 

His lips drifted down your stomach, your waist, your hips all while imprinting reassurances of his appreciation of your body onto your skin. He unbuttoned and pulled off your jeans along with your belt and holster that held multiple weapons. The panties came off immediately too. 

“You’ve got the kind of beauty to make a man fall to his knees.” His lips moved to your thighs as he kneeled before you. 

Your legs were shaking with desire, with need. His lips and hands worshiped your thighs and calves all the while murmuring sweet words about how pretty he finds every aspect of your body before his lips drifted back up towards your soaked pussy. 

He lifted one of your legs and placed it atop his broad shoulder to give him access to your core. 

“Prettiest damn pussy I’ve ever seen,” he moaned before his tongue suddenly licked a stripe up from your leaking hole to your clit. 

You bit down on the meat of your palm to avoid screaming in pleasure as he finally gave attention to your throbbing neglected heat. 

“Oh god, oh fuck, Rick, that feels so good,” you whimpered. His tongue plunged and pillaged inside you as his nose ground against your clit. Heat rushed through you and threatened to overcome you quicker than you’d ever experienced before. 

He groaned into your soaked folds before licking back up to your clit. His tongue flicked and swirled around your bud of pleasure. Your grip on his hair tightened and your soft chanting of his name spurred him on. 

The cadence of your quiet breathy moans reached a fever pitch as his lips enveloped your clit and he sucked. 

“Shit, Rick I’m gonna come,” you groaned, the words slightly muffled by your hand over your mouth. 

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he ordered. Just like always- your heart, your soul, and your body followed his orders with a gasp. 

Your release wracked through you with such intensity you became lightheaded and Rick had to press his hand against your stomach to keep you standing upright as your legs shook. 

He looked up at you- a grin on his lips with your slick coating his beard and you swore you could come again on the spot at the sight. 

You took shuddering gasping breaths and once he felt you were steady enough he took your leg from off his shoulder and allowed you to stand for yourself. 

“I wanna say you look prettiest when you come…” he stood up and yanked his shirt off before he reached for his belt. 

“But I think you look prettiest when I put my cock inside you.” 

You couldn’t help the whine that slipped from your lips. He gripped your waist and lifted you up, using the leverage of the tree behind you to hold you up as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. 

His pants were pulled down just enough to release his hardened length and your core clenched as it rubbed against your abused clit. 

“Need you inside me, please,” you begged- your voice breathy and near pathetic but he grinned. 

“Your beggin’ is real pretty too,” he drawled and gripped his cock and lined it up to your entrance. With one harsh thrust he filled you completely. 

You choked on a gasp as you were stretched open so suddenly and completely. You felt deliciously full as you clenched down on his huge cock. 

“Fuck,” he growled out between gritted teeth and rested his forehead against yours. 

The drag of his hardened length inside your sensitive walls started a crescendo of overwhelming pleasure.

“That’s it baby, you take me so well,” he said and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was all consuming even as his pace and intensity of his thrusts increased. 

“Ohhh shit- R-rick, you make me feel so good- so pretty- love you so much,” you babbled as he filled you to the brim and more and you gripped his shoulders. 

His grip on your hips only tightened- the pressure most likely bruising but you didn’t care- couldn’t care as his cock repeatedly hit the spot inside you that no other man had ever found- that made your toes curl and your back arch in overwhelming pleasure. 

He groaned and you swore it was the sexiest sound you’d ever heard. 

“S’much, love you so much my pretty baby,” he said and the words were somewhat muffled as he continued to kiss you and his tongue slipped inside your mouth. 

The friction of his bare chest against yours stimulated your nipples as his groin grinded against your clit with each of his deep thrusts. 

You clenched around him as your desperate pussy sucked him in. 

“I can tell you’re close, come on my cock,” he ordered as his mouth drifted to your neck and he bit down harshly. 

Your release hit you like a freight train and the pulsing of your pussy around his thick cock barreled him towards his own release. 

“Rick!” you gasped and gripped his shoulder- your nails digging into the muscle. 

“Fuck- I know, I know,” he groaned as he pulled out right before he came. He placed you down on your feet as he gripped and stroked his cock. 

Your hand joined his and with a groan of your name his come splattered across your stomach. 

You looked up at him with a grin on your lips and his lips slowly spread into a breathtaking smile. 

“Kiss me?” you asked sweetly as you batted your eyelashes. 

He chuckled as he kissed you slowly and sweetly as if he hadn’t just wrecked you completely. 

All too soon he pulled back and tucked himself back in his jeans before he pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and used it to clean you up. 

He assisted you in clothing yourself and you trailed your hands across his toned chest and torso with hearts in your eyes. 

You pouted as he pulled his shirt back over his head. He shook his head at you with a fond smile on his lips. You both returned all your weapons to their proper places in your belts and holsters. 

“How’re you feelin’?” he asked finally with a hand on your chin. 

“Real pretty,” you purred. 

You could feel his smile as his lips pressed against yours once more. 

“Good,” he replied, tone deep and gravely. 

With a hand on your waist he led you back to the small camp. It didn’t matter that you'll only be getting a couple of hours of sleep at this point, that your back hurt from the tree bark, that you were sore in multiple places, that you probably had bruises- as he led you to lay down and held you in his arms you were perfectly content and wouldn’t change a thing. You felt well loved and appreciated.

You began to drift off when a hand slipped into yours and squeezed, you opened your eyes and Carl was looking at you where he and Judith laid only an arms length in front of you. 

“Judith wants you,” he whispered and you looked down at Judith who stared at you wide eyed and made grabby hands towards you. 

“C’mere princess,” you whispered as you waved her closer. She crawled over to you and you barely held in your laugh as she climbed up over you and wiggled herself between you and Rick. 

He made a sleepy grumbling noise as he pulled you and Judith closer and mumbled, “My girls.” 

You grinned and reached over and brushed the curls from his face, your other hand still held by Carl’s which surprised you, but his day had been particularly harrowing and you were more than willing to offer comfort to him, to your entire family that you now laid tangled up with. 

Despite the apocalypse, the constant daily fear and fight of the walking dead- you wouldn’t trade anything for this moment. For this feeling of knowing exactly your place in the world and being content with Rick and the family you found with him. 

[twdxtrevor]

Im gonna need a second to recover from this . .

[janiehellion]

𝚨 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐒𝐢𝐧 ⋮ ℜ𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔊𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 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.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Smut ⋮ Cheating ⋮ Age Gap ⋮ Infidelity ⋮ Semi-Public Sex ⋮ Blowjob ⋮ Cumplay ⋮ Dub-Con Elements ⋮ Manipulation ⋮ Language

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 10.201 𝑺𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈: S02E06 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Fem!Reader

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ⋮ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 ⋮ 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑻𝒘𝒐: 𝑨 𝑻𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝑶𝒇 𝑫𝒂𝒎𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

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 made you think.

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 looked out of your tent, 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 different.

You saw your chance and took it.

Stepping out into the hot 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 shit."

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 bothering 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 damn mind."

Maggie glanced at you, her frustration disappearing 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 Maggie into the house before she disappeared into another room, returning a minute later with a handful of sundresses in her arms. 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, leaning in farther than necessary on purpose. 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 only showing 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, before 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, sweaty 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 eyes wander. Every time, his reaction was the same—quick glances, tense shoulders, and a 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, putting your weight to one hip so the tight 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, but there was none in sight.

"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 touching yours. His hand stopped just a moment 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 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, 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 moved again, this time pressing yourself more insistently against him. Thedress 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, moving just enough to grind back against him, pretending to be a little bit too 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 sounding 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 there, 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 sounded frustrated, every word coming out with irritation.

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

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

He didn't even bother hiding it now.

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 said that 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 slightly before he grabbed your arm, his grip rough but not painful. "You don't understand," he said, slightly annoyed. "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!"

He shook his head, his eyes searching yours. Your lips parted, but no words came out. The frustration in his eyes made your heart race, the 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 him off again 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."

Rick started to crack. His breath was brushing along your cheek as he leaned in, closer than before, but with that same 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 what to do, 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 one cheek 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, his fingernails scratching your skin.

"You think I ain't got more important shit to deal with right now?" He snapped further, 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 smirked, voice as sweet as ever, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling his heart beating through the sweaty shirt. "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 stopping near the stubble on his jaw. "I could be."

Rick's hand slid higher, fingers moving along your spine, pulling your body closer until your hips met his. You felt it—his cock—hard and thick, pressing against your belly.

No, he wasn't fooling anyone. And he definitely wasn't fooling you.

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

You moved your hips, slowy on purpose, grinding against him, feeling the twitch in his cock through his pants. "Dunno. 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 turning into a warm smile. "Unless… you can't handle it."

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

He leaned in, so close his lips barely touched 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 again, and that was all you needed to push him further.

"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—a little—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.

"Maybe you should."

That was it.

He lunged forward, pushing 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 behind.

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 his hard cock through his pants.

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

But the risk only made it more exciting.

Your hips ground into his, chasing friction, and Rick groaned, biting down on your shoulder to muffle it in need. 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, but 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, grabbing 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 pants straining against his cock.

Rick slammed you back against the chicken coop with force before his mouth was on yours again—messy and wet. One hand went 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 to himself when it didn't want to at first. The sound of it opening, the noise of a zipper, and then he was free, hard and leaking, pressing against you, twitching and throbbing.

He hesitated for 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 your neck to silence the groans that tore from his own throat.

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

The chicken coop creaked behind you, every thrust of his hips against yours making you think the noise may be way too loud in the warm summer air, and that sooner or later, someone might catch you, after all.

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

But the risk—the danger and wrongness of it—only made you feel higher, made you feel him more.

Anyone could walk by. Carol. Shane. Dale. Daryl. Lori. Anyone else from the group. Hell, even the Greenes.

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

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

The heat of summer, the sweat of your bodies, the sound of his shaky 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, before the hand in your hair moved to cover your mouth.

But still, he held back. His pace was slow, and 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 came from his throat—he was losing it, fast.

His hand remained against your mouth, but it wasn't as rough it could be. 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, taking his hand away again.

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? 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 forget the words you'd just 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 meaning of your words was pushing him further into those thoughts he'd been fighting against. The ache 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 unavoidable. 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 until he hissed, his grip tightening once again.

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

His lips trembled against yours, with 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 now bruising your flesh as he pushed 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 breaking. "Wanted you to—oh, fuck—do this!"

Rick's mouth found your neck, his beard brushing against your tingling 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 real and desperate that it left you trembling and made it hard for your legs to keep holding on.

You bucked against him, moving 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. He was pulling you impossibly closer, grinding his hips into yours so you could feel every inch of him.

"Come for me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice was softer now, gentler, but no less frustrated. "Let me feel you... Let me see and feel you come on my cock."

You couldn't stop yourself. You came with a silent cry, eyes wide, your pussy clenching around him as your orgasm ripped through you in an instant. Rick groaned in response, 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 stop as he fought to regain control.

"I can't," he stammered. "I shouldn't."

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 trembling. "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, grabbing you like he needed to hold on as you were the one to set the 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 pushing you harder.

Each thrust pulled him deeper, the head of his cock brushing against your G-spot that made you shudder and clench around him, tearing more 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. "Don't fight it, Rick. Let go. Fuck me."

His eyes went shut, his expression full of desperate need that sent a thrill through you. He was close, so close, and you wanted him to let go. 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 legs, his cock throbbing in your hand as you kneeled in front of him. 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.

But 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.

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 tried to convinve himself, and his body betrayed him, a drop of pre-cum dripping down as you dragged your thumb along his tip again.

"Sure," you answered, 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 up but couldn't. "Because standing here with your dick in my hand after fucking me is real loyal of you, huh?"

Rick then remembered Atlanta, finding Lori and Carl alive, the 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, 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.

"Fuck—don't stop," he groaned, his voice cracking, and his hand grabbing the back of your head.

You wrapped your lips around his cock, taking him in deep, slow at first, letting him feel the warmth 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 pulled out and pressed the tip against your lips, smearing pre-cum across them. "Open up," he ordered.

You did, letting your lips part wide, your tongue sliding out to taste 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 it.

"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 were pulling 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 in an instant. You looked up at him, lips shiny, cheeks all red and hot, as he stroked himself, his hand and cock 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 them 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 mouth, 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.

When he was done, he just stood there, 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 your breasts. He looked like a man torn in two, his guilt fighting 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 moving 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 in the evening wind with every step, the warm summer breeze lifting it just enough to reveal your naked ass once more.

But Rick remained where he was, his chest still heaving, his mind a mess of want and guilt and so many more feelings he couldn't even name.

He then reached down, adjusting himself with shaky hands, tucking his now soft 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, 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 all 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 next line of sight.

You.

You were halfway back with walking to the tents, the sundress moving 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.

He 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.

As Rick walked back toward the tent where Lori was sleeping with Carl at her side, his heart was still racing. And he felt how 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」

[grimesbunny]

dating rick means constant acts of casual dominance that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing. it’s always his hands on you; gently grazing your waist to make you aware of him in passing, pulling you closer to him when he senses any semblance of a threat to you, guiding you around by the small of your back. not only that but his eyes too. if you’re not in his line of sight there’s a problem.

your bratty comments are met with warning eyebrow raises and casual ass slaps. he fixes your clothes/gun holster for you whenever he sees them out of place because you can’t be bothered to worry about that when he’s got it covered just fine. he’s also insistent on your sleep (when he has the luxury to be) and carries you to bed himself so much it becomes apart of your nightly routine.

speaking of guns, he takes any chance he gets to make you practice self defense tactics you can’t imagine you’ll ever actually have to use. just in case. and if he lingers too long pressed up against you it’s because walkers don’t understand personal space and he’s just trying to make it as realistic as possible.

[writella]

Thinking about Rick and slightly innocent, touch starved, virgin, fem!reader— ♡

Just smut this time, 18+, mdni, wc: 1.8k.

Read part two: here!

“I usually just touch myself at the top,” you explain, verbalizing your actions as you rub your clit with your middle finger, your pointer and ring brushing up against either side of your lips. You’re breathless, already panting. Doing this in front of him was too much. You just couldn’t believe this was happening, that he was here watching, enjoying. “Barely even put my fingers in- I get nervous- never feels good.”

“Never?” There’s a bit of surprise in Rick’s voice, but the grin he’s hiding loves every second of you showing him how much you need something- something bigger, something or someone like him and his fingers— his cock.

You pout with a hmph, “No,” you whine, your eyes trailing desperately. “They feel like nothing when I do it. And I don’t know how to make it feel good.”

Your actions, your words, it makes his tongue peek out of the side of his mouth. It’s only just a little, but a tiny bit drool is at the edge, almost rolling down and onto his chin. He licks it away before it falls.

His eyes are dark and lustful, dazed with the sight of you in only a shirt, underwear discarded, rubbing your puffy, wet pussy so fast right in front of him. He had been talking to Daryl outside the house, came up to get you for dinner at his, but then he caught you. He didn’t mean to, but the door was just a crack open: with one eye he could see your legs dangling off the bed, nose and eyes scrunched so tightly as your fingers played with yourself, whispering his name. That’s what set him off, the sweet little “Rick… Rick, Rick,” pants that came out of your mouth. That’s what made him come in without knocking. He told you not to stop.

And now, he stands right in front of your bed. Any closer and he’d be in between your legs. He can see you staring down every inch of him, eyes so wide, hopeful yet hopeless. You’re pathetically whimpering and whining at his own— those sparkly blue and wandering ones. He’s just as invested in the sight as you are.

You look at his pink parted lips and his tongue you want so badly in your mouth, and lower too, so much lower. You see his slick, curly hair, and that scruffy beard— you wouldn’t even care if it would make your sensitive lips burn down there. You want it. So bad. Your eyes go down further, seeing the way his hands are placed low at his hips, his groin jutted forward… Fuck. You need to see what’s underneath.

You rub your clit faster with two fingers now, biting on your bottom lip, looking at his fat bulge and wondering if he’s just getting hard or if it’s always looked big like that. It makes you feel like this one of your daydreams… you don’t know if your mind is enlarging it, but wow it looks good. You’d honestly sit on him right there, jeans and all with your bare pussy. Who cares if he’s been working all day, dealing with God knows what outside these walls. You’ll take anything. You bet even the littlest bit of something from him probably feels better than when you’re alone doing this anyway. You were tired of it, you wanted to be touched; you wanted to be fucked— fucked by Rick Grimes.

Rick finally sits on the bed. His face closer to you now as he asks, “You’ve ever made yourself cum, sweetheart?”

You're hesitant to answer but you shake your head, shy and slow. You feel embarrassed.

A chronic overthinker you were sometimes, you could never be in the moment and finally get yourself over the edge. Thinking about Rick always led to thinking about how you shouldn’t be doing it. He was the leader of your group, he had a daughter and a son, ones that you were far older than, but just enough to not possibly be their mother… at least not the eldest, anyway. This was wrong, but there he was: watching, staring, gazing. It only made you more and more wet, you almost couldn’t breathe.

“Poor baby,” Rick drawls and you whimper at the phrase.

He decides to relieve you, but only just a little bit by brushing his hand on your leg, stroking your thigh as he finally sits down next to you. It makes you gasp as you continue to pleasure yourself. Reaching lower to collect wetness to put over your clit. Your back arches at the feeling of him.

The sight makes him grin, laughing endearingly. Just that— just his hand, not even on your pussy and you’re already reeling.

“Such a pretty little thing, and no one’s ever made you feel good…? Can’t even do it to yourself either?” He tisks at the thought. “It’s a shame, honestly.”

All you do is whine. You want him to do it but you’re too scared to ask. You want him to want to do it, without asking, go all in and make you his. Why won’t he? It makes your moan, mix with a groan as you think about it.

You look up as his hand moves higher to your hip and his name comes out all desperate and needy as you plead, “Rick-”

“Yes?”

“Please.”

He ignores you. “Put a finger inside yourself. Let’s try again, okay? How about that?”

You whine his name again, but you still do as he says. Your hand trails lower, inserting your middle finger into your wet hole.

“Start pumping… and how ‘bout this time you try to curl your finger upward after you go in, hm?” You try, humming in response to his voice and his hand moving back to your leg, softly rubbing up and down your thigh as he watches you.

He notices your breath hitching. “Good girl,” he coos, “add another.”

You attempt to pump yourself faster now with the two fingers inside of you, looking up at him. Your pussy twitches and you jut upwards at the sight of him licking his lips. “Just pretend it’s me,” he tells you, “And don’t stop. I wouldn’t.”

His hand rests back on your hip, fingers daring to reach your mound as they slide slowly, but he’s hesitating. He wants you to do it all by yourself, but he sees your face, sees what just his voice and his watching does to you. You were always a good listener, a team player, never skipped on doing your part when he asked it of you, but this, this new power he had over you? It was something else. He can’t help but want to see what happens when he gives you just a little more.

His fingers now lightly ghost over your lips and your eyes implore. Your gasp is shaky. You’re almost holding your breath waiting for the full press but… he doesn’t do it yet.

He’s being a fucking tease.

The cockiness is evident in his voice when he asks, “Want me to?”

“Yes,” you moan, loud and instantly. It’s pitiful, you’re a mess and you want him so bad you couldn’t help it, but the beg worked. Right after, he starts rubbing harsh circles into your clit, making you vibrate.

“Oh- ohmygod, Rick.” You try to keep pumping yourself but it becomes hard. You’ve dreamed about his hands, right there on your most intimate parts, making you feel good and showing you how it’s supposed to really feel. And finally. He’s doing it. His rough fingertips felt like heaven.

Your own fingers stutter. His hand and yours are just too much for you, especially because of how deep and fast he’s rubbing against your skin and bone. “Rick, please,” you want him to go lower, take over, and he notices how your fingers slow.

“No,” he warns. “Keep goin’.” His voice is stern, stopping you before you do, he takes your hand and helps you pump your fingers into yourself before letting go. “You’re doing that yourself. Go faster.”

Your cheek falls to the opposite side of the bed, whimpering sadly at his words, but you continue.

“You got it,” he encourages. “Put another finger in.”

“Another?” Your voice incredulous as you ask.

“Gotta train yourself with your fingers before you get mine.” He pauses. “And before you can get up to my dick… How do you think it’s gonna fit if we don’t open you up?”

You let out a moan, it’s the kind that you had only heard on tv in the past. Just the sheer thought of him insinuating that soon he would put himself inside of you sends you spiraling. You add a third finger, it feels tight, but good, especially with him there.

“There you go,” he says, stretching out the syllables. He feels his jeans tighten further as he watches you.

And you only get wetter. The squelching sounds from below are nothing you’ve ever heard from yourself before. Your pussy shakes and sucks your fingers below with Rick rubbing and pinching your clit at the top. You speak between pants, moaning again, “Rick… Rick, its too much.” You’re trying to keep up your pace but you feel your energy withering again. You close your eyes.

“That means you’re making yourself cum soon. Keep going.”

“It hurts, I can’t do it!”

“You can do it,” he nods, “and if you don’t… I’ll just leave you here.”

A quick, “No!” and a string of “mmms” come out as you whine. You don’t want him to go, so you try, you keep up.

Rick lets go of your clit and it makes you gasp sadly at the loss, but he’s pushing up your shirt, exposing your breast. He takes one hand to rub your clit again and another to roll one of your nipples. “This is the only extra help you get,” he tells you. “Now are you going to cum for me?”

You nod, “Yes, yes,” you chant, “I can do it for you, Rick.”

“Show me.”

You continue to pump fast, curling your fingers as he suggested before. You find a spongy part that makes you feel extra tingling in your lower stomach and you keep trying to push up against it with each pump of your fingers. You decide to open your eyes again to watch Rick as his eyes trail between your breasts to below, you choose to focus the way your fingers look as they go in and out of you and how his hand rubs and shakes you at the top. Indescribable noises come out at the sight. “I’m losing it,” you tell him.

“Just keep goin’,” he tells you. “See it through.”

You start panting in between your stringy moans, it’s breathy and hurried and long. You force yourself to not stop. “I’m gonna cum, Rick. I’m gonna make myself cum!”

“I know, sweetheart. I know you can. Be a good girl for me, you got it.”

And then you do. The butterflies spring. You continue to pump as you ride your high and then it’s done. You came.

Rick smiles, licking his fingers filled with your wetness. He stands up, knees making their way between your own that lay on the bed as he starts undoing his belt. As he drops his pants and his boxers you see his cock spring up. It’s glossy at the tip and although you haven’t seen many, you’re completely sure it’s longer than most.

But it gets you scared. There’s worry in your eyes. Your lip quivers despite the drool that comes out on the side. How’s it gonna fit?

“You ready?” He asks.

“But I thought you said your fingers first.”

He kisses your lips, fingers caressing your cheek as he whispers, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go slow.”

Then he pushes himself in. Right to the hilt.

He didn’t go slow.

[bambisworlds]

fascination

request from @caramelvanillafrog <3 i hope you like it!!

rick spotted bambi a month ago in the woods, and ever since he had been watching from afar. when her group is attacked by raiders and she's the only survivor, he takes the chance to be her knight in shining armor (6,290 word count).

content warnings, mdni 18+

f!reader, bearded!rick, stalking, slight manipulation, canon twd violence, protective!rick, possessive!rick, mentions of previous sa, consent checks, fingering, oral (f. recieving), use of good girl, let me know if i forgot anything x

my masterlist

Bambi stood at the head of her camp with wide eyes. Her hair which she often wore in two braids was ratty and an utter mess from running through the woods after a group of raiders attacked the camp. She had gotten lucky, able to stay hidden in a pile of brush due to her short stature.

Bambi gaped at the remains of her friends and fell to her knees with a ragged sob, barely even noticing the scrapes on her knees it caused. The bonfire that had been a large blaze when she had run off was now mere kindling, put out from the storm. It was as if the universe had known something devastating was going to happen and began to downpour to express its own grief for the lives that would be lost. With a shaky sniffle, Bambi forced herself back to her feet. The raiders could come back to take out any survivors, so she had to leave before they did.

She faintly could hear her ragged breathing and whimpers over the pouring rain as she gathered a few bullet casings the raiders had somehow left on the ground. She hadn't remembered leaving any ammo at the camp, but she'd take the spot of luck nonetheless. Everything else of value had been taken, along with her friend's lives. Maybe in the morning or a few days she'd come back and bury them. But staying here tonight was too risky. Bambi quickly put the bullets into her gun. The only weapon she had was a Colt Cobra Revolver with one round of ammo left in the cylinder, but now from the other bullets she had found on the ground she had six shots of ammunition.

With one last look at her friend's corpses, she set back off into the woods. She wasn't sure if she would make it on her own, but she wasn't brave enough to join the dead yet.

__

Rick had seen the whole attack happen. He didn't intervene. He had watched Bambi run into the woods to hide when it was all happening, so he knew she was safe. He had watched the massacre from behind a large oak tree. The flickering flames of the bonfire illuminated the whole gruesome scene as he watched from afar. He almost felt sorry enough for her friends to intervene, but he hadn't, because now Bambi was on her own and she would need someone to be her knight in shining armor. Rick would be the person to protect her.

Rick had been trying to come up with a way to welcome Bambi to Alexandria without having to bring her friends along. He didn't want the extra mouths to feed, but he wanted Bambi. The raiders coming to her camp had been a happy accident, and now he had an opening to bring her back with him.

When the raiders left Rick walked over to camp and left extra ammo for Bambi in case she needed it before he came to find her.

About a month ago Rick had been checking the traps in the woods 1/2 a mile from Alexandria when he had seen her. She had walked through the woods like a ghost, utterly silent from how thin and short she was. Rick's first instinct was to draw his pistol, but his hand only rested on the butt of his gun as he watched her from afar. She had managed to find a sundress that fit her body like a glove, with a knitted purse she must've made herself. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in a neat braid. He had never seen someone look so put together in the new world they lived in.

Rick quietly stepped closer, careful to not draw attention from the twigs and leaves beneath his boots so he could watch her without being overheard. She was a beautiful little thing, smiling to herself as she found a blackberry bush. Her smile brought a faint smile to Rick's face. At the sound of twigs snapping and the faint snarling of a walker, Bambi quickly grabbed the last of the berries and hurried off in the opposite direction of Alexandria.

Rick didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he followed her. He discovered she was with a group of 5 other people who had a small camp set up about two miles from Alexandria. It was a miracle no one in his own group had come across them yet.

Rick continued to follow and watch her for nearly four weeks, up until the night of the attack on Bambi's camp. He had developed an infatuation with her, one he couldn't make sense of, but he couldn't stop himself from watching her. He had learned a lot about her from his time stalking her, seeing as there was no other way to put it. She was beautiful, sweet, small, and in need of protection. And no one could protect her better than himself.

__

Bambi was a mess emotionally and physically as she trudged through the woods for somewhere safe to stay for the night. She has never been on her own since all of this started. She didn't even have a goddamn flashlight. She was wandering aimlessly in the dark, hoping the raiders weren't watching her. Which they weren't, but Rick was. Rick had been following quietly, making sure if she ran into any trouble he could intervene and help her. He was waiting for an opportunity to talk to her, or "accidentally" run into her.

Eventually, Bambi stumbled upon a shed in the middle of the woods. It was better than nothing she supposed, considering it was pouring down rain and walkers couldn't sneak up on her if she was hidden. Bambi slowly opened the shed door, the wood creaking loudly. She could feel her gun trembling in her grip, waiting to see if a walker, or worse a human, was going to jump out at her.

Seeing it was empty and quiet, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her with another loud creak. The rain must've made the hinges extra loud. Bambi sat down on the dirt floor of the shed. After a while her eyes eventually drooped shut, her eyes stung from crying and lack of sleep. It was still dark when Bambi blinked awake to the sound of footsteps crunching in the damp leaves. It had stopped raining and the woods were eerily quiet besides the sound of cicadas and crickets. Bambi froze and her hand immediately reached for her gun as she expected either a walker or person to come barging in. She flinched in surprise as a loud gunshot rang throughout the quiet woods, followed by a body falling to the ground with a thump outside the shed.

Bambi could hear her heartbeat in her ears, utterly frozen in place and scared to move. Maybe whoever fired the gun didn't know she was in there?

After a few more moments of silence, there were more crunching footsteps, then the all too familiar sound of a knife being dug into a skull and yanked out with a nauseating squelch. She could faintly see a silhouette through the cracks of the shed. She could only pray they didn't know she was here.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," a low voice with a southern drawl said from the other side of the door. Bambi's breath hitched in her throat and swallowed nervously, hoping maybe if she stayed quiet he'd go away, "You can come out. I promise I mean you know harm," the voice said again and Bambi cocked her gun with trembling hands.

"I have a gun. If you come in here I'll shoot you," she says, the obvious tremor in her voice betraying her fabricated bravery.

"That'd be a waste of a bullet, sweetheart. Like I said, I'm not gonna hurt you," the man said again. Bambi began to panic internally, unsure of what to do. This man could easily be lying so he could grab her and do god knows what to her, "Why don't you come on out?" he asks gently, "I have some water and food if you need it."

There was clear sincerity and concern in the man's voice, one that wouldn't be faked easily. Bambi stood up on trembling legs, her bag still hanging from her shoulder, "T-Take a few steps back first." Bambi demands, her voice still trembling wildly.

Rick smiled slightly on the other side of the shed door. He couldn't help but smile from how adorably flustered she sounded. He put his pistol back in its holster and took 4 steps back. The sound of his boots crunching against the wet leaves told her he had done as she said and she stepped out of the shed. Bambi timidly held up her gun, immediately pointing it at his figure. It was nearly a full moon tonight, so she could make out most of his features, immediately noticing his beard and curly hair.

He held his hands up defensively, "I promise I'm not gonna hurt you. You can even take my gun if you want." he insists.

Bambi glanced down at the dead man a few feet away from her, the body she had heard fall to the ground. He wasn't a walker. Bambi shifted on her feet nervously, still pointing her gun at him. She'd never been at the center of an altercation like this before, "What do you want?" she asks, forcing her voice to sound more steady.

"My name's Rick. I'm from a community about a mile from here. We have houses, walls, medicine, food... anything you need," Rick explains, still holding his hands up to show her he meant no harm.

"Then why'd you kill him if you want to help people?" Bambi asks, the tremble returning to her voice as she glances down at the man's body.

"He was sneakin' up on you, probably planning to kill you. Or worse," Rick answers, his southern accent dragging out his words. Rick began to slowly reach for his gun and Bambi quickly aimed her revolver at his head, "Easy sweetheart, I was just gonna toss my gun over to you."

"Why?" Bambi asks incredulously, still pointing the gun at his forehead.

"I want you to trust me," Rick says as he slowly takes out his gun, holds it by the barrel, and hands the end with the grip towards her. Bambi hesitates before stepping closer to him and quickly snatching the gun from his grip and stepping back again, "You can follow me back, or stay here and keep my gun. It's your choice."

After a few moments of silence, Bambi lowers her gun and puts it in her bag, along with Rick's, "If I come with you do I have the option to leave if I want to?"

"Yes. You can leave whenever you want," Rick assures her, even though internally he knew damn well if she left he'd follow her. Bambi nods her head towards him, motioning for him to start leading her to the community. Rick smiles slightly and starts walking, Bambi following at least 6 feet behind him.

__

When Rick and Bambi got to Alexandria the sun had begun to come up. Rick's body was buzzing with excitement Rosita opened the front gate and let them inside. Rosita looked Bambi up and down, before looking at Rick with furrowed eyebrows.

"Who's this?" she asks, nodding her head towards Bambi.

"I found her in the woods with some guy sneakin' up on her, so I brought her back with me," Rick answers, keeping his answers vague.

"Why were you even out there this time of night?" Rosita asks incredulously. Rick clenches his jaw, not wanting Bambi to realize he had been out there following her.

"Couldn't sleep," Rick huffs, and Rosita hums in acknowledgment, not buying it but letting it slide nonetheless. She looked down at the shorter girl again. Bambi was probably the least intimidating person alive, so Rosita didn't think she could be any sort of threat, "Follow me," Rick murmured to Bambi, who had been admiring Rosita's outfit. She somehow made rather bland clothing items into a sexy outfit. Bambi snapped out of her daze and followed after Rick.

No one else was awake yet, save for Sasha who rarely slept these days. Bambi looked around with wide eyes as Rick led her toward his house. She didn't think places like this existed.

"You can stay at my place and get some rest," Rick says, trying to tame the butterflies blooming in his stomach. He felt nervous. Rick barely ever felt nervous, especially not over some girl.

"Okay," Bambi mutters timidly, clutching her bag tightly as Rick led her up the porch steps to his house and led her inside.

"Are you thirsty? Hungry?" Rick asks, turning on the light switch. When the lights came on Bambi could finally make out his face clearly. Her eyes widened in surprise. He was handsome, even with a beard even though she didn't often find men with beards attractive. And his eyes...

"I-I'm okay," she clears her throat, trying to school her expression. Rick couldn't help but grin slightly, his ego boosting. He hadn't spent much time worrying about his appearance lately, too preoccupied with keeping everyone in Alexandria safe and fed. Especially after the attack they had here a few weeks ago. It made his chest feel warm knowing Bambi found him attractive, even with the unruly way he looked.

Rick got her a glass of water anyway, and Bambi's eyes nearly bugged out of her skull as she realized they had running water. Rick grinned again from her surprise, "We have hot water too if you wanna grab a shower." he muttered, still grinning.

Bambi looked down at herself, she did look a little worse for wear, "That would be nice. Thank you." she said shyly as Rick handed her the glass of water that she quickly took a few swigs from, unable to resist fresh water.

Rick led her upstairs and into his bedroom. Of course, he hadn't told her it was his bedroom, but the idea of her naked in his shower and then cuddling up in his bed made his heart race and that weird warmth return to his chest.

"Everything you need'll be in there. Do you need a fresh change of clothes?" Rick asks, hoping she'd say yes so he could give her some of his.

"I actually have some," she says, motioning to the knitted bag hanging on her shoulder.

"Okay, I'll be in the room next to this one if you need anything," Rick nods slightly. He would be staying in the guest room so this little angel could sleep tangled in his sheets. He felt a sick sense of satisfaction knowing she'd wake up smelling like him.

Rick couldn't help but lean against the wall in the guest room to listen to Bambi as she showered. He smiled as she heard a slight giggle of delight through the wall after she had stepped under the water. He imagined it's been a long time since she's gotten to shower with hot water.

Rick had forced himself away to tidy himself up as well. He stared at himself in the mirror, preparing to shave his beard to look more presentable for her, when he heard a timid knock on the bedroom door. It was almost comical how quickly he dropped the razor onto the bathroom counter, haphazardly wiped off the shaving cream, and strode over to the door. When he opened it to see Bambi stood before him in a cute little sleep set a shaky breath escaped him. His brain shut off for a moment as his eyes scanned her up and down, when he realized she wasn't some lingerie mannequin and could see him staring at her he quickly looked back up at your face.

"Do you need somethin' sweetheart?" he asks, his voice involuntarily dropping a few octaves.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," she mutters nervously, motioning to the bit of shaving cream he had missed.

"No, no. You're not interrupting," he clears his throat nervously, wiping off the rest of the shaving cream with his hand.

"I just wanted to ask if I could use one of the unopened toothbrushes in there," she asks, motioning to the room that she had come from.

"That's no problem darlin'. Use whatever you want," he smiles down at her. Bambi nodded slightly, preparing to walk away, then stopped herself.

"You should keep it," she muttered before she could second guess herself, motioning to his beard before scurrying back over to the room she was staying in. Rick stuck his head out of the doorway to watch her walk away, his eyes lingering on her ass. Rick grinned triumphantly as he went back into the guest bedroom, his chest puffing slightly after she asked him to keep the beard.

--

Rick had encouraged Bambi to get some sleep, seeing as they arrived at Alexandria at sunrise, but she couldn't sleep. This all felt so foreign to be in an actual house, with an actual bed, after just taking a shower with hot water.

But one thing that distracted her from her unease was the smell of the sheets. It smelled like a deep and rich cologne. She wondered who had slept in here before her that made it smell so good. Maybe this is where Rick took all new members at first. After about an hour and a half of trying to sleep and failing, the door to her room opened slightly. She looked over as Rick peeked in.

"Hey there… just wanted to see how you're settling in," he greets, his voice warm as he leans against the doorframe.

"I'm okay… it just feels weird being here," she chuckles nervously and Rick smiles, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It took me a month to get used to how soft the mattress was," he smiles, his eyes flickering down slightly to her chest before back up to her face. She looked angelic, cuddled in his bed with her hair framed across his pillows.

"You can have your gun back. It's in my bag," Bambi says, motioning to her bag that was hung on the back of the bathroom door.

"I'll grab it later after you've got some sleep. Having it with you might help you relax," Rick glances at her bag before focusing back on her, "Anyway, I'll let you sleep," he mutters before finally leaving the room.

--

About two weeks later Bambi still hadn't gotten used to her life in Alexandria. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely this wouldn't last, nothing good did anymore. But, Rick was doing everything he could to make her feel welcome and happy. Even though a few of the members didn't seem to like her, Spencer especially.

Rick had picked up on Spencer's disapproving glances and holier-than-thou attitude and he didn't like it. He had been watching from afar as Rosita showed Bambi a better way to hold her gun, and Spencer scoffed, mumbling something about how she should know how to hold a gun by now. Then he followed up by saying she'd never make it on her own. Bambi's shoulders had deflated and she went back to her and Rick's house. She'd barely left his house the past two weeks. And one of her first trips out resulted in her going back into hiding.

Rick clenched his jaw as he noticed Bambi shrink into herself and make her way back to his house. With anger bubbling in his gut he strode over to Spencer, his hand resting on the butt of his gun.

"Spencer," Rick grits out between clenched teeth.

"Rick," Spencer acknowledges, barely sparing him a glance.

"If you say anything, and I mean anything, to make her feel unwelcome… I'll kill you myself and make it look like a walker did it," Rick threatens, his voice deadly calm, "We clear?"

Spencer almost began to laugh, thinking Rick was joking, but when he realized he wasn't he straightened up, "Yeah." is all he muttered before walking away. Rick watched Spencer walk away, his gaze rich with disdain, before turning in the direction of his house.

Bambi was still sleeping in his room, which Rick didn't mind one bit. He knew sooner or later he'd end up sleeping in that bed with her every night. It was only a matter of time. Meanwhile, he could at least enjoy the sight of her in it.

Rick knocked softly on the bedroom door. When he heard a faint 'Come in', he pushed it open, "You alright in here sweetheart?"

"Yeah, just not in the mood to be out and about I guess," she murmurs, pulling out her knitting supplies that Rick had given her. He claimed he had them lying around, but after he found out she liked to knit the month he spent following her, he looked for knitting needles and yarn on every supply run.

"Listen... Spencer's a dipshit. He thinks he's some tough guy but he's not," Rick sighs as he walks over to her and sits on the edge of the bed, "I'd bet you'd last longer on your own than he would," Rick says with a warm smile.

"He has a point though. I'm not the type of person that's built for a world like this. I've only gotten lucky so far," she mumbles as she begins to weave pieces of yarn together. Rick's eyes followed the movement of her hands for a moment before resting his hand on her thigh, his thumb rubbing soothing circles like it was the most natural thing in the world to him.

"You don't need to be tough or feel brave. You don't need to worry about makin' it on your own anymore," Rick says, his voice low and intimate, "Nothing dead or alive will ever touch a hair on your head." his voice was thick with promise as his hand squeezed her thigh slightly. His hand looked huge compared to her slender thigh, it made Bambi's pulse quicken.

"I know. I know the others would have my back if something happened," Bambi forced herself to stop staring at his hand and focused back on knitting.

Rick sighed shakily and moved even closer to her so his leg bumped against hers, keeping his hand on her thigh, "I'm not talkin' about them," he murmured, leaning in closer in a way that made Bambi's breath hitch, "Baby..." Rick whispers, lifting a hand to rest on the side of Bambi's face and guiding her to look at him. The endearment made Bambi's stomach do a flip, "You don't need them, because I'll be the one keepin' you safe," he said with a low rumble as his thumb caressed her cheek, "You sleep in my house, in my bed... you're mine to keep safe."

Bambi glanced down at the bed they were both sitting on, "This is your bed?" she asked shyly.

"Mhm," Rick nods, "Those blankets you cuddle up in, the cologne you smell on the sheets. Those are all mine baby."

Bambi swallowed thickly, "Why'd you have me sleep in here all this time and not a guest room?" Bambi asks breathily, trying to keep her composure despite the butterflies going crazy in her tummy.

"I think you know why," Rick grins and Bambi exhales shakily, her eyes darting back and forth between his. Rick leaned even closer until his nose nearly bumped against hers, "I wanna keep you safe, surround you with myself," he explained, his eyes drinking in her eyes and features as if she were a painting, "You're such a sweet girl, baby. You need to be kept safe," he coos, rubbing his thumb on the underside of her bottom lip, "And there's no safer place for you than in my bed." Rick mumbles, his eyes flickering down to her lips. Bambi's ball of yarn had been forgotten, slipping out of her fingers and onto the mattress, "You gonna be a good girl and let me keep you safe?" Rick whispers, his lips only a breath away from hers. Bambi nods mindlessly in response, "I knew you would be," he mumbles to himself before capturing her lips with his.

Rick sighs into the kiss, his hand snaking up to tangle in her hair and pull her closer. Rick guided Bambi, not letting her speed up or slow down the kiss until he was ready. He wanted to savor the softness of her lips and the warmth of her mouth when he slipped his tongue inside it.

“You’re so beautiful sweetheart, like an angel,” Rick hums against her lips, pulling her even closer until she is half on his lap. He grabbed the ball of yarn and knitting needles and haphazardly tossed them onto the ground. Bambi couldn't help the slight smile his words caused, and the rush of heat to her cheeks, "You’re my pretty girl… aren’t you?” Rick asks with an intimate rumble, pulling back enough to meet her eyes. Bambi nodded again. It was as if a piece of her brain had shut off and she was responding to him on autopilot. Rick kisses her again, his technique growing a bit more heated, “What do you need, baby?” Rick asks as he begins to kiss along her jawline.

It was as if Bambi had finally snapped out of her trance and all her anxieties came flooding back into her mind, "I don't know. I..." she whispered with a slight tremor in her voice.

"What baby?" Rick mumbles against her skin as he begins to trail open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

"I haven't done anything sexual with anyone where I've been... asked what I wanted," she swallows nervously. Rick's eyebrows furrowed and he paused for a moment, his lips hovering over her skin before pulling back to look at her.

"What do you mean by that?" he asks, his face scrunched slightly in concern.

"I um... well," Bambi stammers for a moment. This was always a mood killer, "I'm not a virgin, but, when I lost my virginity it was...bad." she tries to explain and Rick only stares at her from her vague explanation, she could see the wheels turning in his head, "I didn't want it to happen. But it did." she clarifies, fiddling with her fingers nervously. When Rick finally understood what she meant the furrow between his brows went away and his face went blank, yet his eyes simmered with rage. She noticed the shaky inhale and clench of his jaw. He looked livid, and utterly hateful, as he stared at her. His mind was running wild with images, each worse than the last, of what could've happened to her and what he would've done if he found whoever had done it to her. Bambi thought for a moment his look of utter revulsion was directed towards her and she started to pull away when Rick stopped her.

"It's not you, baby," he assures her, his eyes still dark and almost crazed as he looked blankly at her as if recalling some distant memory, "Just thinkin'..."

Bambi gaped at him for a moment, unsure of what to say, "Do you want me to go, or..." she swallowed nervously.

Rick finally snapped out of his daze and tilted his head as he looked at her, "Why would I want you to go?"

"It doesn't seem like you're interested in doing this kinda stuff with me anymore," she answers hesitantly with furrowed eyebrows.

"I am interested, baby," he grins slightly, trying to push down the rage boiling in his gut, "I just don't like the idea of anyone hurtin' you." his jaw clenches again like the anger had bubbled up again but he straightened up, "We don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can stop right now, or just stick to kissin'. Whatever you want," he assures her with a soothing tone, the crazed look in his eyes softening to something more intimate and adoring.

"I do want to do more. I'm just… nervous for some reason," she mutters, beginning to fiddle with her fingers again.

Rick smiles slightly and takes one of her hands. "How about you show me where you want me to touch you, and we can start there?" he offers, holding her hand so she can guide him where she wants him. Bambi sighed shakily, and with a decisive look in her eyes, she guided his fingers to hover over her clothed center beneath her skirt. Rick fought back the urge to chuckle as she held her chin up high like she was trying to prove something to herself. She was adorable.

Rick's thumb began to gently rub her clit through her panties, biting back a groan at the damp heat he found there, “How’s this baby? This okay?” he asks lowly, rubbing languid circles over her nub. Bambi nods with a small 'mhm', bringing a grin to Rick's face as her lips parted with a soft pant. As Bambi began to relax more Rick started to kiss down her neck again as he continued to slowly circle her clit, easing her into it. When a slight moan slipped past Bambi's lips, Rick's kisses came to a stop and he pulled her closer. “C’mere baby,” he murmured, picking Bambi up like she was as light as a feather and sitting her on his lap with her back pressed against his chest. He scooched back on the bed slightly so they were more comfortable, resting his unoccupied hand on her belly to keep her close.

Once Rick had Bambi comfortably positioned between his legs, his hand slid back down to circle her clit again, this time pressing down harder and rubbing a bit faster circles. Bambi let out another timid moan and Rick quickly encouraged her, “That’s it, baby,” he muttered, placing a kiss on the side of her head, “Feels nice doesn’t it?”

Bambi nods in response, her breathing growing heavier and her eyes fluttering shut. Her hand moved up to grip his bicep, causing Rick to moan slightly, "Hold me however you need to, baby," he said huskily in her ear, "Still doing okay?" he asked, growing breathless himself and Bambi quickly nodded. Rick moaned lowly as the dampness on her panties coated his fingers. Her panties were soaked through. He removed his fingers from her clit and slid only the tips of his fingers beneath her panties, “How about this? Can I touch you like this?” Rick asks and Bambi nods again. Rick’s hands slipped completely beneath her panties, his palm pressed against her mound as his fingers sought out her clit again. A small, shaky moan slipped out from Bambi's lips from the direct contact with her pussy. “This pretty pussy’s dripping for me isn’t it baby?” Rick coos and Bambi nods again with a whimper. She could feel her brain beginning to shut off again, her thoughts going blank from the strong, but nurturing presence of Rick. Bambi had never been so turned on in her life.

Rick's middle finger slid down slightly to rub around her entrance before moving back up again to circle her clit. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, planting more kisses on her head and temple. Bambi was practically beaming from his praise, and also from the pride she felt towards herself. She had thought for a long time she'd never want to have sex or do anything remotely sexual with anyone due to her trauma. Yet, here she was overcoming her fears and discomfort. Better yet, she was enjoying it.

Mewls and whimpers escaped her lips as Rick continued to rub her clit, his middle finger occasionally slipping down to gather the wetness by her opening and then returning to her clit. Rick's chest was heaving with shaky breaths, touching her like this alone was enough to make him cream his pants like a teenager.

“Gonna try something else now, sweet girl,” Rick murmured, carefully lifting Bambi off his lap as he got off the bed and kneeled in front of her, "Tell me if you don't like how it feels, okay?" Rick asks and Bambi nods, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine. “Scooch down some more baby,” he smiles slightly, pulling Bambi closer to the edge of the bed as she wiggles closer to him, “There we go,” he sighs once she is positioned where he wants her. He left a trail of hot kisses along her inner thighs, his beard scratching on her skin as his hands spread her thighs further apart with gentle pushes.

Bambi's body was buzzing with anxiety and anticipation. She'd never been eaten out before and had always worried about whether she smelled or tasted funny. But she pushed the worries down, determined to jump this hurdle too.

Rick pulled her panties to the side, and somehow it felt less embarrassing to Bambi than if he had pulled her panties off completely. But maybe that's why he did it. He started easy, pressing a few gentle kisses on her folds and clit. Bambi noticed how he licked his lips after each little kiss like he was trying to taste her without being obvious or overbearing. It made her smile slightly and restored a bit of confidence.

Once the tension in Bambi's body began to relax Rick gently pulled down her skirt and panties, placing tender kisses on each of her knees before he pulled them down to her ankles. Once Rick had set them on the floor he looked back up at her with a determined glint in his eyes, he wanted this to be good for her, “This stops whenever you want it to.” He reminds Bambi, who nods in agreement. Rick wrapped his arms around her thighs and his eyes raked over her intimate area. Rick could feel the damp spot on the front of jeans from precum as he subconsciously licked his lips at the sight of her bare pussy.

Bambi's cheeks turn red and she looks away from him in embarrassment, suddenly feeling exposed. “No need to be embarrassed sweetheart, just soakin’ in the sight of my girl's pretty pussy,” he murmurs before kissing along her slit again, “Been dyin’ to get a glimpse of this cunt baby,” he mumbles before licking up her slit with the flat of his tongue from just above her anus to the top of her clit. Rick pulled back with a satisfied grunt and parted her pussy lips with his thumbs and taking a moment to admire her before repeating the same action, licking every hidden crevice of her. He had been imagining for months what she tasted like. Daydreaming about smelling her on his beard the next day, or her cute little body over him as she sat on his face… the fantasies went on and on.

Bambi gasped, her hand instinctually moving to cover her mouth and muffle the sounds she made as Rick began to kitten lick at her clit. He watched her face closely to make sure she wasn't uncomfortable. Her eyes were closed and her eyebrows were furrowed from a mix of pleasure and awe at the new sensations he was providing. He reveled in how her lips made an 'o' shape with soft pants, her mouth slightly hidden behind her hand. He wanted to move her hand so he could see every bit of her beautiful face, but if it made her more comfortable to keep her hand there he would allow it for now.

She let out sweet little gasps and quick intakes of air as he licked her clit with the tip of his tongue, differing from Rick's unrestrained groans and grunts of enjoyment from between her legs. Her thighs twitched, closing slightly and Rick slid his hand to the underside of her thigh to guide her legs back open. He wanted unrestricted access to her pussy. Rick squeezed her thigh with a moan before focusing back completely on her intoxicating pussy. He lapped languidly at her cunt with low moans and lewd wet sounds before sucking her clit between his lips.

Bambi's legs twitched again as he suckled on her clit, a sound of surprise escaping her. Her hands moved down to grip the sheets as Rick continued his ministrations between her legs. With a low groan, he slid his hands up beneath her shirt to rest on her sides, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against the underside of her breasts. Rick began to flick her clit again with his tongue, earning a desperate whimper from Bambi as her back arched slightly which was met with a groan of approval from Rick. He wanted to see his little angel lost in pleasure, arching into his touch.

Bambi's breathing picked up and her legs began to squirm as she neared her peak and Rick yanked her even harder against his mouth, eating her out with fervor as she came with a high-pitched whine. Her shaky sobs and whimpers of pleasure filled the room as Rick continued to kiss and suckle on her clit until her body went limp on the bed. He leaned back to look at her, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to her cunt, "How was that baby? Nice and satisfied?" he asks huskily and Bambi nods, her lower belly quivering slightly, "I love this perfect little cunt so much," Rick groans, his eyes rolling back as he leaned back for more.

if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below any of my posts or in my submissions!! (check here: about my blog  to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)

[itsgrimeytime]

i know i got him || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn! reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter

Summary: Ever since you showed up, you've had an effect on Rick. At least, that's what everyone said. Initially, you hadn't recognized it. But after one too many coincidences, it's starting to become a little impossible to ignore.

TWs: flirting, simp behavior, cursing, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Was listening to this song nonstop (so good btw) and my brain went... hmm. Rick is terribly down bad in this. Like eager to do things for you, following you around like a puppy dog, the works. Also this gif????? girl... Enjoy :)))) ]]

You had never really thought about how you affected him. Or how they thought you did, anyway.

"You're being ridiculous," you stated -plainly.

Maggie was trying desperately to convince you that you had one Rick Grimes wrapped around your finger. Rick Grimes? Wrapped around your finger? No way.

"Do you remember yesterday? When he went on a run to find you a pair of shoes?"

"That was not why he went out on a run," you laughed a little, mindlessly bouncing Judith against your side, "-we need more as a community than just-"

"Then, why-" she interjected, "-did he only come back with shoes?"

"He didn't," you countered, "-He had some cans of food, I remember."

"Two," she relented, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, "-he went out on a run for two cans of food?"

"Sometimes you can't find much-"

"Oh my god," Maggie rolled her eyes, "-you are unbelievable. Let me just show ya-"

You pursed your lips, as she walked ahead of you -beelining to Rick. She had quite the pep in her step, pregnant and all, "Show me?"

Before you could call out to her, she was at Rick's side. He seemed to be talking to Deanna, actually, and if he was talking to Deanna, it was probably important. He smiled at her, in a Rick sort of way, until she started motioning to you. You had no idea what she was saying, but his eyes flicked to you instinctively.

Now, you'd never thought about if he smiled differently at you, but it was kind of hard to ignore right now.

Eyes dipping over you and Judith, the bright grin on his face was very different than the one for Maggie previously. And it wasn't even like that one wasn't genuine, you could tell it was, this one was just different.

It was crinkly eyes and shining white teeth. It surprised you that it didn't even seem unfamiliar to you; how long had he been smiling at you like this? And you had just normalized it?

You guessed you didn't have a direct comparison but still-

You smiled back (maybe just as bright, you weren't sure) and gently waved.

Watching him laugh a little and shake his head (like he couldn't believe you were waving at him?), your eyes darted to the ever-so-slight pinks of his ears.

Before you could think about it, Maggie said something to grab his attention (eyes stuck to you before snapping to her), and they were both on the way to your side. Something worried in Rick's eyes, you felt some guilt coil into your stomach; what had Maggie said?

You couldn't ask about it before he was already at your side, hands itching to fuss over you -you could tell. He seemed to let them win.

"Maggie said ya got a headache?"

Right, it was a sort of offhand remark to Maggie. And it was hurting, the sun even stung your eyes a bit. But he left that conversation (obviously very important) because you had a headache?

The gears in your head were turning, and Maggie seemed to watch them -eyes stuck to your face. You couldn't believe it yet, there had to be a reason.

"Rick," you started, "-it's fine. It's minor, had it since I woke up this morning, I can-"

His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes gleamed with concern, hands coming to rest on your arm, "Ya had it since 'is mornin'?"

Shit.

"Yeah," you answered, still trying to fight your case, "-but really, Rick, it's nothing. I can manage-"

"Ya should go rest," he interrupted, taking Judith from your arms, "-least til' it gets a lil' better. 'S hurtin' your eyes, I can tell."

How did he know that?

"Rick, seriously-"

"I'll take ya home," he hummed, carefully, "-and I'll come back in an hour to check on ya-"

"Rick," you tried again.

"-Get some medicine from the doc', and bring it to ya myself," he finished, something in him decided.

You pursed your lips, trying a different angle, "Shouldn't you be getting back to Deanna?"

"She can wait," he responded, simply.

"Well," you frowned, "-it has to be important, I don't want to-"

"'S not as important as you."

The words faltered in your throat, and Maggie looked at you in a way that you could hardly grasp. Mouthing 'I told ya so', you thought on it. Maybe he was just concerned, I mean one thing-

And then, his hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you home, and your brain promptly turned off.

Ever since that conversation, you'd been trying to reason. Keeping watch on your interactions with Rick (he did always smile at you like that, fyi), you were trying to rationalize it. Give it a reason. Other than what Maggie, and others, said, but it started stacking up.

It was a dreaded day, laundry day. And out of the cycle, it was your turn.

Sometimes, the people of Alexandria would just air dry their clothes for conservation reasons, really. And every time, there was someone assigned the duty. A little like how the meals were made, and someone had to help Carol -not that she'd ask for it. She was a little stubborn like that.

That being said, no one, and you mean no one, liked to do laundry. Specifically, because you had to get up early (to make sure you got all the sun power you could), and it took hours. Especially on your own.

You basically crawled out of bed at 4, maybe 5, in the morning. Still in your pajamas, you stalked through the streets of Alexandria -dragging your feet a little, you won't lie. Making your way over to the air drying area, you pulled out all the baskets and placed them along the ground -organized. It was probably the only time you ever really were these days.

Putting your hands on your hips, you let out a big, long sigh.

"Well," you tried to smile, still so asleep that your voice was cracking, "-the sooner I start, the sooner the hell ends."

Before you could even grab a single piece of clothing, a voice interrupted you -low in drawl like maybe he had just woken up.

"Ya need some help?"

Your eyes shot to him and something in your chest fluttered, stirring in your stomach. Rick was still in his pajamas (plaid pants low, and a plain t-shirt), eyes still heavy with sleep like maybe he'd just woken up too, and his hair probably the messiest you'd ever seen. There was a curl hanging in front of his head, you got the urge to fix it.

And maybe it was because you were half awake, but you did. The smile he got on his face after made warmth shoot to your toes -all dopey and sleepy. You kind of just wanted to gather him up in your arms, and maybe fall asleep on his chest (woodsy smell and body warmth). Luckily, that urge didn't come to fruition.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What the hell are you doing up this early?"

Not only was it odd that he was up this early, but like you said no one likes laundry duty. So why was he offering to help at all? If he had duties this early, shouldn't he be going and doing them? Why-

"'Eard it was your turn," he spoke, low and gravelly (you had no idea how to handle that), "- an' wanted to help ya."

You pressed your lips together, mind chiming 'wrapped around your finger'.

No one likes laundry duty.

"Thank you, Rick, but-" you started, "-I can tell you're still tired and I know for a fact you have a lot to do later today, so-"

"Nothin' to do," he hummed, wiping at his eye. Cute.

That had to be a lie.

"Asked Deanna for a break," he clarified, looking at you a certain type of way, "-Needed one anyway, thought I'd help ya."

"You're," you sputtered, a little in disbelief, "-You're taking a break day to help me with laundry? It is so much work-"

"Won't feel like work if I'm wit' ya."

Good god. Was he always this sweet? You couldn't have been that oblivious. Seriously.

"Guess I could use some company," you muttered, a little flattered but you tried to hide it. Rick just smiled at you in a way that made your breath hitch in your chest, you wavered on your feet.

"But, seriously," you added, "-if you need to take a break, on your break day, let me know, I'll-"

"'S long as you're workin'," he smiled, big and bright, "-I'm workin'."

"Is that," you laughed a little, "-Is that your way of making me take a break?"

He smiled differently then, mischievous, "Maybe."

You bit your lip and decidedly turned to the baskets, "Let's get to work then, Grimes, the faster we start, the faster we're done."

He joined your side, close enough to touch, it made your head spin a little. Before speaking, low like maybe a mutter, and maybe even nervous-

"Ya mind if I stick by ya for the day? 'Ve got nothin' else to do, figured I'd just be wit' ya. If 'at's alright?"

Good god.

You swallowed, blinking, but not quite turning to him, "Of course, you... Yeah, of course. I mean, I might have more chores-"

"I don't mind," he hummed, gentle, already hanging up something -not looking at you, "-'s long as it's wit' ya."

You blinked, damp shirt in your hands, just staring at him. Watching as he carefully clipped up the clothes, big hands ever-so-gentle like he didn't just drop probably the sweetest thing you'd ever heard. Genuinely too.

Shit, maybe they're onto something.

You decided to ask around.

"Honest question, Carol," you hummed, thumbing through a few of the ingredients. It was your day to help her, it's probably one of your favorite chores. You really enjoyed her presence, she was a close friend. Long story short, you trusted her judgment.

She hummed, gently grabbing one of the ingredients.

"This may sound so stupid, just know that I'm acknowledging that," you clarified, now looking at her, "-but do you think Rick is into me?"

Carol paused a moment, trying to decide how to react maybe, and you could already see her reaction. She was just a little too polite to say it instantly.

"Shit," you muttered, "-really?"

She pursed her lips, looking at you with a little pity almost, "'Fraid so. It's..."

She fell silent for a second, you just watched -patiently.

"-Everyone knows," she continued, hesitantly (like maybe she didn't want to embarrass you), "-Rick... I think he's been into you since the prison."

"The prison?" you nearly exclaimed, stalling in place. No way, "-what did he-"

"Remember the week 'at you were sick?"

Right, you'd been a little delirious from something. Maybe a little more than a cold? Nothing super serious, you remember Hershel telling you that but you had to rest. He was pretty sturdy on that. Turned out you couldn't have been doing anything, it made you feverish and nearly sleeping all the time-

"Ya ever wondered who took care of you?" she questioned, directly.

"No," you laughed, "-it was Hershel, he was the medic-"

"You sure?" Carol countered, eyes peeking at you -leveling a stare, "-He was feeding you, gettin' ya water? Stayed by your bedside?"

You faltered, something in you twisting, "Carol."

You'd remembered something like Rick feeding you, bites extended forward, and maybe the low timber of his voice. You'd just thought it was you being delirious; you had a thing for him, so you just-

"Carol," you repeated.

"He was there every day," she clarified, turning to the other side of the kitchen, "-as far as I know, he only left to do farmin' and see Carl or Judith. If you seemed to get worse, he got Hershel. But... otherwise..."

"Carol."

"None of us said anythin'," she added, busying her hands, "-because he didn't. 'At was his thing, it wasn't our place."

"For all this time?" you scurried to her side -hanging on to every word she said.

"Well," she sighed, turning to you fully now, "-we kinda figured he'd say something by now."

"God," you groaned, throwing your head into your hands, "-I have to be the dumbest person on the planet."

"To be fair," Carol soothed, "-ya didn't know."

You couldn't look Rick in the eyes for the rest of the day, or maybe you stared at him a lot more. It was all so confusing.

You decided then and there, that you'd try the most trustworthy person. The one who wouldn't lie to you, a little because he respected you too much. It did help that he was most definitely Rick's best friend.

"Hey, Daryl?"

You'd arranged a run with a few newcomers, and frankly made Daryl come because you wanted to have this conversation.

He didn't speak, just sort of grunted. It tracked.

"You're probably the most honest person I know," you cleared your throat, "-and I am pretty desperate at this point for just... honesty."

He turned to you fully then, something like concern in his eyes. The guy was truly a softie at his very core, you probably treasured your friendship the most out of everyone but it was a close call.

"Everythin' alright?"

You pursed your lips, "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. It's a... probably stupid thing actually."

He kept walking forward through the aisles of the store you were in, stashing away some essentials. You were doing the same, well, you were trying to.

"Stupid thin'?" he asked, not looking at you.

"Yes, it's dumb as hell, frankly," you laughed a little, "-but I just... I guess I want to know the extent of it."

Daryl turned to you, eyebrows furrowed together, "What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Rick," you answered, and he seemed to take a second at the name, "-Is he really into me? Like everyone seems to believe?"

He didn't answer at first, just simply turned back to the canned foods, "Carol tell ya 'bout the prison? When ya were sick?"

"Yes," you swallowed.

"Ya should know the answer to 'at then," he spoke -gruff and straightforward.

"Well," you tried to argue, "-it's hard to understand it. I just... I don't know."

Daryl said nothing, walking forward through the aisle. You followed him, keeping your eye out for more that he hadn't grabbed. And for a moment, you thought he wasn't going to say anything else.

Suddenly, he spoke up, "He can't focus when you're on runs. Deanna 'ates it."

You opened your mouth to ask just how he knew that, but he interrupted you.

"She complains," he clarified, before asking, "-Ya ever wonder why ya barely get put on runs? When everyone else is goin' in a cycle?"

"I..." you paused, mulling it over. When was the last time you were organically on a run? You'd arranged this one-

"Deanna don't put ya on 'em," Daryl explained, turning to you with some canned food in his hand, "-'cause she kno's Rick'll be useless. He'd be waitin' at the damn gate if he could."

You tried to speak, but he continued.

"He always asks someone ya were out wit' to keep an eye on ya. And 'en, when ya come back, asks 'at same person if ya got hurt at all. Scratches, cuts, if ya tripped probably-"

You didn't say a word.

"-I kno' 'cause I've been 'em," he clarified, and you were wordless.

You took a deep breath in, good god.

"So yea'," he answered finally, "-he's into ya."

And then, he moved forward and didn't say another word. He didn't really have to though.

You'd even watched this time, keeping an eye on Daryl and where he went after coming back from the run. And sure enough, Rick waltzed up to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. You imagined you knew the conversation.

Yeah okay, your mind chimed, he has a thing for me.

The thing was, he might've been hesitant but you sure as hell weren't going to be. You might warm him up a little bit though, maybe just for a little fun.

He was wearing a new shirt. Kind of weird for you to notice, but it was the apocalypse, everyone wore the same thing so often that it melded with them in your mind. You could still vividly picture what Rick looked like at the prison and sure, maybe that was for more reason than just that, but still.

You went a little on autopilot. Call it confirming what you already knew, basically. Or, at least, that's what you'd tell yourself.

Upon closer inspection, you noticed the collar of his (new) flannel was askew -just a little. Bingo.

You waltzed up to him and Deanna with no particular air of anything. Just normal, you wanted to see it for yourself really (the laundry thing was very telling, but you wanted to see the little things). Rick stuttered to a stop, words halting in his throat when you showed up, and your heart flipped in your chest. Stay focused.

"Hey, sorry," you apologized, genuinely (well, kind of), "-I just gotta-"

Carefully, you straightened out his collar.

You felt his eyes on you the whole time (just staring), it made your heartbeat pick up a little bit but, luckily, he couldn't quite see that.

"-There," you cheered, just a tiny one, and you saw a dopey sort of smile spread across his lips (it made you feel warm down to your toes).

You pat his chest once, feeling his body heat thrum against your hand -eyes connecting to his, "Like the new shirt, by the way."

He looked at you in a way that somehow seemed familiar but you'd never really noticed. You'd been noticing a lot more recently, to be fair.

With one last apology (eyes dashing to Deanna, who in retrospect looked a little annoyed), you politely made your exit.

Finding anywhere to go, you spotted Maggie -who was already looking at you.

Shit.

She approached you before you could go anywhere else, and you readied yourself for the onslaught.

"What was that?" she asked, carefully.

You resumed your step, maybe with a little too much pep, "His collar was messed up. I fixed it."

"No, no," she followed your lead, perfectly in time, "-you... you're doin' somethin', what are you doin'?"

"I'm not," you answered -plainly.

Maggie, frankly, didn't believe you (obviously).

You weren't sure what you were waiting for, maybe for him to realize? You knew you could've just told him yourself, and you really were going to... but every time you tried to walk up to him, your throat just clogged up. He would look at you that way (all dopey and sweet and affectionate) and you just-

God, you were useless.

It was late, way too late for you to be up (you should clarify), but you just couldn't sleep. You weren't entirely sure what it was, but at the same time, you knew exactly what it was.

Every day that you didn't tell him was another day wasted. It was the apocalypse. Every day was numbered, and you could be gone at any moment and there was no time to waste. But, you tried and tried and tried. It just wouldn't come out. You weren't sure why.

You groaned, pulling your pillow over your face for a moment. You had things to do tomorrow, couldn't you just have this crisis later-

And then, there was a knock.

Pausing, you waited a moment just to see if it was even real.

Knock.

It was a strong one too, maybe a little desperate, and fear shot through your spine. Before you could think too hard, you scrambled out of your bed -the chill of the night seeping into your skin. Your mind was in one lane, survival. Someone was probably hurt, something was happening-

With shaky hands, you pulled open your door, words on the edge of your tongue-

"Rick?"

He was standing at your door, hair mussed and in his pajamas (still the low-hanging plaid pants, you noted). You let yourself look at him a moment, taking in the domestic view of Rick you'd only seen once before. Seeing him like this almost made you forget your worry, but it still struck a cord in your chest.

You frantically searched over him (looking for wounds or blood), "Shit, are you alright? Did you g-"

"I'm okay, I'm okay-" he moved his hands to your shoulders, and your mouth snapped shut, "-Everythin's fine, darlin', relax."

"God," you let out a breath, centering yourself, "-you scared the shit out of me."

Rick smiled at you a certain type of way then, sleepy and still with that little glint, and let out a low sort of chuckle. Hair all mussed and eyes half closed, it might've been the cutest thing you'd ever seen.

"Sorry," he smiled at you, something twinkling in his eye, "-didn't mean to scare ya."

You waved it off, before falling a little more serious, "If there's nothing wrong, why are you here, Rick?"

He seemed to take a pause. Eyes flickering all over you, a bit in reverence. It made you either what to throw up or faint, you weren't totally sure which one.

"Are you-" you spoke, carefully, "-Are you emotionally okay? Do you need me to-"

"I need ya."

You faltered, barely digesting, "Need me to what? Whatever-"

"No," he clarified, something in his eyes, "-I just need ya."

"What?" you asked -half awake, and unsure if he was saying what you thought he was.

"Y/N," he started, eyeing your now connected hands, "-I want... Shit, I need ya wit' me."

"Rick," you spoke, softly, "-what are you talking about?"

"I'm tired of not bein' wit' ya-" he spoke, like it took everything in his body to say it -a little like he was pleading with you.

It felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs, and your heart was coughing up your throat. You felt totally and completely numb, all you could do was look at him.

He continued, eyes turning to match yours and grabbing your hands, "-I'm tired of missin' ya like a limb when you're standin' two feet away, I'm tired of always wishin' ya were closer, I'm tired of not tellin' ya 'at I think you are everythin' to me, I'm... I'm tired of it."

"Rick," your eyes were getting foggy.

"Darlin', I-" he let out a long breath, "-I can't do it anymore. I feel like I can't breathe without ya near me-"

"Rick."

"-Ya gotta understand 'at I-" he looked down (a little like the words were stuck in his throat), "-I... I can't function without ya. 'S like you're a piece of me 'at's just constantly missin' and it don't 'ave to be."

"Rick," you tried again.

"Y/N, I've-" he stuttered a second just looking at you, "-I've never felt 'is way 'bout anybody. An' I don't... I'm not even sure what to do 'bout it- I can't even think straight when you're gone, it... it stops everythin'-"

"Rick," you repeated, but there wasn't a lot of will behind it.

"Because 'ow am I supposed to be me without ya?"

You swallowed, heavily, eyes flickering all over him -maybe a little in reverence too. It felt like this was all a dream, and maybe this was exactly what you wanted him to say. Only one thought was rattling through your head, and you couldn't shake it, you're not sure you wanted to-

You spoke, breathless and maybe a little teary, "Rick, I love you."

Rick smiled at you so brightly that your knees felt a little weak, and your heart stuttered in your chest. God-

"You-" you laughed a little then, hands coming up to brush along his face (touching what you had longed to for so long)"-you're unbelievable. I couldn't even wrap my head around the thought that you could be into me-"

He just watched you, something shiny in his eyes (you couldn't tell if it was feelings or tears).

"-God you should've seen me. I asked like everyone in Alexandria," he laughed a little, and you gleamed, "-And... And I found out about so much that you've done for me. And you took a day off to do laundry with me-"

He laughed again, "Guess 'at made it pretty obvious, huh?"

"That, and-" you smiled at him, pushing some of his curls back out of his face, "-caring for me in the prison-"

He pursed his lips at that, maybe expecting you to never know. It didn't seem like he could stop looking at you though.

"-and you know what, not being able to focus when I'm gone on runs is pretty incriminating-"

He leveled the same look, and you could see his ears go pink. Cute.

"-or maybe," you continued, looking at him in a way that you hoped he understood (you were desperate for him to), "-when you dropped an obviously important conversation because I had a headache."

He just smiled at you, all dopey and affectionate. It made warmth bloom through your chest. Love, love, love-

"If it ain't obvious," he started, just staring, "-I love ya too. More than what I kno' what to do wit'."

You grinned at him, teasing, "Really? 'Couldn't tell."

He rolled his eyes at you, but was smiling so bright you couldn't take it seriously, "Ya gonna be like 'is now?"

"Oh, yeah," you answered, "-now I know just what you've done for me, and for how long. You're toast."

"Ya act like 'at's all I 'ave done," he countered, maybe smirking a little.

"It's not?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"No," he laughed, "-I was desperate for ya. For a long time. I did a lot to just be by your side, not countin' what I did for ya."

"Well," you smiled, moving your hands to curl into his hair, "-you'll just have to tell me sometime."

"Maybe," he hummed at the motion, and grinned at you, "-but the list is only bound to get longer. Might take forever."

"You know what, Grimes," you laughed, but you were genuinely, "-I think I can do forever."

"Me too," he grinned even brighter, eyes dashing along your face, "-as long as it's with ya."

Yeah, you thought to yourself (and maybe kissed the life out of him), I can definitely do forever.

[rickswh0r3]

holy trinity of dilfs

[heathermason6060]

Masterlist

Daryl Dixon

Matchmaker Merle: Smut

Missing Matchmaker Merle: Smut

Teeth and Pearl Earrings: Smut

Teeth and Pearl Earings P2: Smut

Stars in the Dark: Smut

Fingers in your Mouth: NSFW

Three-hour Drive in Two: Smut

Teasing will get you Somewhere: Smut

God Bless the Horny French: Smut

Rick Grimes

Trophies: Smut

Rick and Daryl

And There was only One Bed: Smut

Note

In all of these fanfics the reader is on birth control and none of the characters have STDs because it's my perfect universe and creampies are the bomb dot com.

I don't like writing fics involving pregnancy or kids, but I'd be willing to if the idea is good enough.

Some fics will contain drug and alcohol use, but consent is never an issue in that aspect.

If you want to be added to my tag list, you can comment here, to make it more organized!

[etclouie]

kinktober day twenty five - uniform sex

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: two of your childhood friends owing you a favor helps out when they stop you for speeding (Shane Walsh and Rick Grimes x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 setting: pre apocalypse 

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: smut, threesome, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie(it’s shane), handjob, oral (rick receiving), no lori or carl😶, reader is described as to be the same age as rick and shane/was in the same year of school as them, shane and rick are lowk dirty cops here (they bang reader to let her off), readers described to be wearing a dress, pretty sure that’s it

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 1.9k

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: no comments

prev day | next day kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

you were on your way home from work, hitting all the quieter roads and failing to stay at the speed limit. 

on any other day, you wouldn’t have been stopped but today was different. everything that could’ve went wrong today did, just like now. 

you seen the sirens flash behind you, and pulled over with a sigh. rolling down your window and waiting for the cop to walk up to your car, but the look that crossed your face as you met his eyes had a sigh of relief leaving you. 

“Shane?”

you questioned, eyes flicking from his face and then down to the badge pinned to his chest. the gold pin reading ‘Walsh’, a last name you’d grown overly familiar with. 

“mhm you know how fast you were going?”

he asked, his elbow resting lightly on your wing mirror. his eyes flicking from you and the back towards his partner still in their patrol car, unaware of who the other man was; but the feeling in your stomach had your mind racing to your other old best friend— Rick Grimes. 

“was ten over the limit, max”

pleading your case, which made him chuckle. his head shaking from side to side as he moved to cross his arms in your open window, his face inches from yours. 

the minty scent from his gum filling your senses from your closeness, eyes flicking down to his lips before his voice was pulling your attention back to him. 

“still over the limit sweetheart”

a shiver going down your spine at the nickname, eyes finding his again and meeting the gleam in his eyes. 

a pool of warmth setting in your belly under his gaze, leaning closer to him and murmuring out softly. 

“remember that favor you owe me?”

another chuckle pushed past his lips, watching his head shake as he stood upright again, motioning towards his patrol car towards Rick. 

the older of the two moving over to your car, a telling smirk across Shane’s face as he nodded his head towards you. Ricks hands resting on his hips as his eyes met yours, for the first time in years. 

“hm you remember that favor we owe her Rick?”

the favor that you’d brought up was dismal, something from your last year of high school. you’d done both boys a big favor, helping them get out of school for the day while they done something you don’t quite remember. but they both said they owed you one, and now felt as if the perfect opportunity to use up that favor. 

“from high school?”

Shane nodded in response, smirk broad across his face as his eyes skimmed down your body. his right hand reaching for the door handle and pulling open your door, arms crossing over the top of it as both men peered down at you. 

“and how exactly do you want us to repay that favor for you?”

the innuendo was there, all three of you felt it. gulping as you unbuckled your seatbelt before slowly climbing out of your car, heat shooting through your body. 

the road you were on was hardly used by people, so the chance of someone driving by and seeing the three of you was unlikely. 

“you know how Walsh, don’t be dim”

he huffed out a laugh at your words, eyes flicking over to meet Rick’s while he shut your car door. 

sandwiched between both men, your back to Shane’s chest while you faced Rick. 

“gonna let us have fun with you sweetheart?”

Shane’s persistent talking left Rick quiet, not that he minded. it allowed his eyes to rake down your body, stopping at the hem of your dress that Shane was now eagerly pushing up. 

“you’re stunning”

Rick drawled out, his hands lifting to grope at your boobs. his thumbs swiping over your hardening nipples through the fabric of your dress. 

letting out a breathy moan at his touch, back arching towards him while Shane grounded his hips against the swell of your ass. the bulge in his slacks prominent and throbbing in his boxers. 

“reckon she’s soaked for us Rick?”

the words barely registered in your head before one of Shane’s big hands were snaking into the front of your panties to swipe two thick fingers through your folds, pulling more moans from your chest. 

“oh fuck”

you and Shane breathed out simultaneously, yours needier than his. 

whining as his hand pulled away from your cunt to show Rick his now soaked fingers, that smirk still across his face. 

“shit sweetheart”

Rick’s voice dropped an octave, one of his hands keeping your left boob in his hold while the other cradled your jaw. pulling you into a deep, heated kiss— all teeth and tongue while your hips pushed back onto Shane. 

the pool of heat in your belly deepened, warmth settling through your body while both men lavished you with their undivided attention. 

Shane fumbled with his belt, the clank of it sounding as he got it open. breaking the kiss with Rick to glance back at him, his fingers tugging down his zipper while he spat his gum out to the side. 

“ain’t gonna keep you waiting much longer, promise you tha’”

he told before leaning in to kiss you as best he could, hands leaving his slacks to pull your panties down to your knees. the fabric drenched in your arousal. 

“can’t leave Rick without any pleasure darlin’, ain’t fair tha’”

he broke the kiss to mumble against your lips, pulling back enough to meet his gaze. nodding slowly, the words formulating in your head in little coherency. 

turning back to Rick, missing the way he worked open his belt and pushed his slacks down to his mid thigh. practically ogling at the sight of his cock, hot and hard and standing to attention. 

the look on your face must’ve shown your surprise, stood still in place— mind reeling and trying to make sense of what your current situation actually was. 

Rick must’ve sensed your hesitation, big hands cradling your face while pulling you into a softer kiss than before. 

“you sure you wanna do this?”

his soft questioning made your heart warm, almost swooning at his care. 

“want this— want both of you”

those words were all Shane needed to push himself into your warmth in one smooth thrust, his chest flush against your back as he buried himself to the hilt. his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured out lowly to you. 

“c’mon sweetheart, take care of Ricky”

your left hand grabbed at Ricks shoulder, helping him move closer before he was kissing you again. tongue licking its way into your mouth and tangling with yours, while your right hand took hold of his cock. 

the tip of him leaking beads of precum, his hips rocking into your touch while Shane slowly started moving his hips against yours. 

“there we go”

his voice came out hoarse against your ear, hearing the smirk across his lips and breaking the kiss with Rick to glare back at Shane. 

“easy darlin’, we’re paying back that favor we owe you”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, his hold on your hips growing tighter as he continued to roll his hips into you. 

each drag of his cock against your walls making you moan lewdly, hand squeezing around Ricks cock and pulling a shaky groan from him. 

your hand moving slow and almost teasingly along Ricks length, twisting your wrist on the upstroke to pull more and more groans from his chest. his hips rocked into your touch and the head of his cock continued to leak, his precum helping to lubricate your strokes. 

“like that darlin’ fuck, yeah just like tha’”

the lilt in his voice grew thicker, hips chasing your hand while Shane continued to thrust into you. his left hand shaking around to your front and pressing two thigh fingers to your clit, drawing tight firm circles against you and drawing whinier moans from your lips. 

the whole scene was lewd, but you felt as if you were in paradise. 

old feelings for both of them resurfacing and feeling as if you were playing out your fantasies. 

“Rick-“

words failed you, but the way your eyes flicked between his and his lips gave away what you wanted. another kiss. 

he was leaning in to press his lips to yours again, your hand continuing along his cock while Shane continued to play with your clit. 

your walls fluttering and squeezing around him had a groan falling from his lips, his forehead dipping to rest on your shoulder before he was mumbling out. 

“shit sweetheart, squeezing me real tight”

the pool of warmth in the pit of your stomach was at its boiling point, ready to tip you over the edge. 

and with the way both men’s hips were canting desperately into your touch, you knew they were close too. 

continuing to pump Ricks cock, his breath hitching while his cock throbbed in your hand. teetering on the edge, but they both wanted you to cum first. 

“close, fuck ‘m close”

your admission had Shane’s hips moving quicker against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin pulling your focus back to the man behind you. 

each drag of his cock felt too good, the head of him hitting the one spot over and over again that had you seeing stars. his fingers pressing tighter circles against your clit had you toppling over the edge. 

cunt spasming around him as your climax hit, the force of your release had your slumping against Ricks chest. face in against his throat and your hand squeezing around his cock as you tried steadying yourself. 

“there we go, atta fucking girl”

Shane’s praise hit your ears like a familiar melody, his hand soothing across your hip while continuing to rock into you. 

fighting off his climax as best he could, but your walls fluttering around him again had him toppling over. whining against Ricks throat at the feeling of Shane’s cum shooting into your warmth, each stutter thrust he gave spilling more of him into you. 

“jesus you’re perfect”

he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, both of hands softer now across your hips. keeping himself buried to the hilt, and keeping his cum stuffed in your pussy. 

Ricks hands cradled your face to pull you back from his neck, nodding his head as you met his gaze. 

on the pinnacle of his release, wanting to spill his load down your throat. his hands gently moved your head towards his cock. 

your mouth warm and welcoming, and your lips wrapped securely around his cock. 

he only had to give a couple bucks of his hips until he was groaning out your name, his climax hitting him and his cum shooting into your mouth. rope after rope of white filling the warm cavern of your mouth before pulling out to let you swallow. 

“shit— gonna let me fuck you now angel?”

swallowing down his release, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and standing upright against Shane again. 

readying yourself to answer when a call came over both of their radios, both of them groaning in annoyance. 

Shane reluctantly pulling out of your warmth and pressing another kiss to your shoulder while a pout worked its way into your face. 

“shit, we gotta go darlin’. think we can let you off with a warning now”

he told as they both tucked themselves back into their pants, Rick even helping to pull your panties back into place as Shane’s cum started to seep out of your cunt. 

Rick placing a kiss to your temple before they were both walking back to their car, calling out to them as they both opened their doors. 

“call me sometime”

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[imyourbratzdoll]

step-daddy rick sneaking into your room to make you feel good down there and take care of you bc ur his little girl 🥺😭 the dream

it is the dream😪

summary - your step daddy knows how to take care of his little girl, even if your mum is in the other room.

warning - smut, oral, cheating, slight somno, stepcest, daddy kink.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips.

Your eyes flutter, moaning as you wake from your slumber, feeling tingles and slickness between your thighs, through your fuzziness you hear something. “Hmm…” You blink, looking down hazily. “Daddy?”

Rick groans, lifting his head from between your thighs, licking his lips clean of your arousal. “Shh, baby girl. Daddy’s just takin’ care of ya.” His grip tightens on your thighs, spreading your legs further. “You were moaning for daddy in your sleep, baby. Thought something happened to ya, only to find out my little baby needed some takin’ care of.” You whimper, shifting your hips as his rough voice makes you throb.

“Daddy…” You chew on your bottom lip, feeling your puffy clit throb.

“It’s okay, baby. Daddy will take care of ya, just gotta be quiet for me. Can you do that?” You nod rapidly, hands curling into the sheets beside you. “Good girl. Always my good little girl.” Rick groans, diving back into your cunt, lapping up your glistening juices before latching onto your swollen clit. “Such a pretty little pussy, all mine, huh?”

Your hips move against his face, grabbing the bear he got you for Christmas and shoving it against your face as you moan into it. His words vibrating against you, you feel your toes curl from the pleasure.

Rick watches you, rutting his erection against your pastel pink bedsheets, your pretty little sounds going straight to his dick. He grunts, pulling away, causing you to whine and try to grab his head but he pulls away with a smirk. “Poor little baby, you wanna cum? Wanna cum for daddy?” You whine, eyes crossing as he brings his thumb up and begins to play with your little clit, rubbing it as he leans back down, fucking you with his tongue.

“Daddy, daddy please! Please, wan’ cum so bad!” You grip your bear and sheets harder, walls pulsing as he continues to eat you out. Rick groans, humping the bed harder, bringing himself closer to the edge.

“Cum for daddy.” Your back arches and your vision goes white as you cum, juices squirting out and coating Rick’s face. “Good girl.” He groans, lapping up everything you give him as he cums in his pants, the friction causing his cock to twitch. Rick hums against you, giving your little clit a small kiss before pulling away and crawling on top of you. “My good baby. Always so good for daddy.”

You giggle, wriggling away happily as he leans down and presses a sweet kiss against your lips before smothering your face with kisses. He pulls back, smiling down at you. “Love you daddy.” You sleepily say.

Rick grins, laying beside you and pulling you against him, wanting to hold you for a bit before having to go back to his and your mums room. “I love you too, baby.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[darylsfavoritegirl]

steamy sex with rick who'll lay you down on any flat surface to thrust into you while your legs are wrapped around him, pulling him more inside as he stands up.

he'd carry you on his lap, on a late night at the prison.

he'd shove you against the cold wall in one of the cells, sending shivers down your spine.

you'd squirm under his balmy lips, curling up against his body as he slides hand down your bra's clasp and undoing it over your shirt.

then your hands would move down his crotch, unzipping his pants and freeing his twitching cock. he'd smirk against your lips, letting you feel up his dick.

then all of a sudden, he'd cut off the kiss and lay you down on a metal table that happened to be there, taking off your shorts eagerly.

you'd shiver at the metal against your skin, your teeth chattering lightly.

his hand would rush to your face, caressing it gently. his hands would travel down your nipples and he'd leave a passionate kiss on your chest. you'd be on fire against his fierce touch.

he wouldn't even take your panties off, instead he'd move your dumped panties to the side and take you while the cloth would brush against his cock.

he'd sigh audibly and throw his head back out of pleasure, getting dizzy at your warm embrace and the way he'd feel your cunt stretching more and more.

one of his hands would be on your waist while the other wouldn't leave your mouth alone. he'd make sure you suck them, sliding his middle finger down your throat along with his index finger.

with those wet fingertips, he'd play with your nipples, making sure they stayed hard as ever.

he wouldn't even let you break the eye contact, making sure that you listen his heavy breathing, heavy grunts that left his mouth.