Daryl Dixon X F!Reader Smut: Stars In The Dark

vacancy (between your legs)

pairing: chris x reader (imagining this with re6 or re8 chris)

cw: hate sex (they actually don't hate each other tho), oral, p in v, some degradation, incredible confidence in the pull-out method lmao

summary: you are on chris' squad and he's the captain, but you have the hots for him, so you push his buttons on purpose. when you bicker in your motel room, one thing leads to another and...

a/n: idk? i wasn't gonna post this bc i posted hate sex w/ leon, but what am i gonna do? leave it in the drafts? no

wc: 1.8k

It’s a dingy motel, but it looks like paradise when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a tent. At least they have running water. You get your own room because you’re the girl in the group, which everyone bemoans. You’re just one of the guys to them, at least, when it comes down to choosing how to delegate the beds. Chris lets you have your own room. He’s still the Captain, though, so when he asks if he can use your shower, you agree, avoiding the argument. When he exits the shower - just a towel wrapped around his waist, something you’re trying hard to ignore - he’s grumbling about how you used up all the hot water, and it doesn't really matter if that’s true or not because you’re both on edge and likely to explode at each other at any opportunity.  

“Wow, can’t believe you have the audacity to ask me to use my shower in my room and then complain that I used the hot water?” You’re only somewhat irritated with him, but your words are laced with bitterness. 

“Are you serious right now? I’m the boss here, and I could just as well kick you out of this room and have it to myself.”

He’s right, but it’s not fair. More importantly, you’re agitated. Exhaustion? Hunger? Pent-up sexual frustration that threatens to break now that the man you’ve been drooling over for years is almost naked in front of you?

“So what? You want me to say thank you, Chris, sorry, I mean, Captain, for being so, so nice to me.”

You know how much he hates being called by his first name out in the field, so you taunt him with it on purpose.

“Why do you insist on pushing my buttons?”

“You started it!”

“Are you a fucking child? Because you’re acting like one.” 

Chris would rarely fight a woman, but you’re not any woman. You’re constantly bitching at him, going against his orders, and you’re sexy as hell when you’re mad. Plus, he’s seen you fight - verbally and physically - and metaphorically, you’re entirely within his weight class. 

“You’re the one who started complaining, that’s all I’m saying. Can you just leave me alone? I’m stressed enough as it is.” “You think you’re the only one? I’m trying to keep my cool because one of us has to, and you don’t know how to hold your tongue.”

“Don’t keep your cool, then. Hit me with it.”

You’re not even into degradation. You just like the way his voice gets deeper, more gravely when he’s pissed off. 

“You’re a bitch, you’re a brat, you’re self-entitled, too stubborn to admit when you’re wrong, and you’re a goddamn pain in my ass.”

“Is that all? I thought you could be nastier than that.”

“Nasty? You want me to play nasty, huh? I would say that since you can’t do field work and you can’t do desk work, then maybe you’d be more useful on your knees under the desk, but you know what? More than anything, you’re disobedient, so I doubt you’d even be able to take cock like a good girl.”

“Sorry that I don’t fulfill your perfect submissive fantasies. Doesn’t mean I’m not any good on my knees.”

“Really? Then prove it.”

“That’s what you want?” 

Both of you are running on auto-pilot, completely enraptured by the thrill of anger and arousal. He wants to sink his teeth into your skin and you want to drag your nails down his. Flesh on flesh, hot and sweaty. The closest you’d ever been to sex was sparring. He had you pinned to the mat. You needed to pick a different partner because you couldn’t learn when you got dizzy every time you tried to train with Chris. 

“Yeah, I’ll give it a trial run, see if it’s worth it, and maybe if you can satisfy me, you can still have a job working for me.”

You stand there for a moment, stunned into silence, working on forming a sentence, but no words come out. Chris raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down. He isn’t backing down from your proposition. If it were any other man, you would walk out the door - not before spitting in his face or kneeing him in the balls, but this is Chris, this is different. 

You’ve wanted to sleep with him since the day you met him. You butted heads constantly because you were both stubborn and happened to be on different sides of every issue. Also, you learned early on that you got more attention for being obnoxious, so as long as you weren’t out in the field, in a life-threatening scenario, you intentionally pushed his buttons. He almost caught onto your little charade once. 

“How are you able to cooperate out in the field, but in the office, you have to argue with every word that comes out of my mouth?”

He’d gotten real in your face with that one. Hand on the desk next to him, cornering you so you couldn’t scurry away (not like you ever would). Most girls would’ve apologized to scary Captain Redfield, but not you. You went home and immediately grabbed your vibrator from your bedside table and replayed the conversation. 

He’s winning, but he was always going to win. You’re playing a long game that he isn’t privy to, one that you’d always lose. 

You sink to your knees. You’re a little sad that he doesn’t make you beg for it, but you go ahead with undoing his belt and getting his pants down his thighs. You presumed that he would be big - you thought you’d caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants once, but you couldn’t be sure, and what were you gonna do? Ask him? 

Once he’s down to only his underwear, your suspicions are confirmed. It’s a little intimidating, actually. Do or die. You take his dick out, only to find out that it barely fits in your hand. Sure, your hands are small, but you can hold a handgun. You struggle with bigger guns (and bigger dicks as it turns out). You lazily stroke him, looking up into his eyes, and he looks pleased - smug, really. For once, it feels like you’re on the same team. You’re both winning when his cock is down your throat. The only courtesy he gives you is a makeshift ponytail so you don’t get hair in your mouth. He doesn’t give you an ounce of sympathy when you choke. You look prettiest with tears in your eyes. He knows you’ll smack him on the thigh if you want him to stop - and you hit hard. 

Not today. You suppress your gag reflex and breathe through your nose. It isn’t the hardest thing you’ve done today. You fought off a horde of zombies that morning - sucking dick is nothing. You’re not new to either. 

You’re about to break Chris’ composure. You feel him throb in your mouth. But he pulls away in time. You won’t win that easily. Maybe you are still fighting.

You stand up, still in a haze. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are gonna strip?”

You walk backwards to the bed and let him follow you. You rid yourself of your shirt and pants on the way there. You sit down and take off your bra without breaking eye contact. You spread your legs before taking off your panties and start to touch yourself while he watches. He tries to hide how much the show you’re giving him affects him. 

You can tell he’s flustered when he pushes you onto the bed and says “Save the theatrics.” You think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he bites your bottom lip. Two can play the teasing game. You grab his face and pull him into a kiss and he lets you. 

He rubs his cock along your folds and says, “Are you always this wet?”

Around him? Yes, actually. You’re too wet for words now, so you’re lucky it’s rhetorical. 

He hesitates. Neither of you thought to bring condoms on a mission. 

“Just pull out,” you say, “if you can.”

“Trust me, I’ve been in this game longer than you’ve been alive-”

“Slut,” you say under your breath. 

“Me? You’re the one who’s spent the past year trying to get me to fuck you.”

You go slack-jawed. One, because the cocktail of pleasure and pain you feel when he slips inside you is heavenly and two because you realize he’s known you wanted this the whole time. 

“How’d you know?” you try to ask, but it comes out less than inteligible, covered by a strangled moan. 

“Like I said, I’ve been doing this a long time. Your little act was obvious.”

Seems like it worked out in your favor. Too bad you’re getting pounded into the mattress and can’t get out a clever retort. Your brain is useless, you’ve lost all words besides his name. 

“I would’ve fucked you a long time ago if I’d known you feel this fucking good.” 

He lifts your legs up, and puts them over his shoulders. Your moans are almost screams. The pleasure is overwhelming. 

“Do you ever shut up? What’s everyone else gonna think when they hear you?”

They’re definitely going to hear you. It’s a good thing you don’t care. 

Chris’ hand wraps around your throat, but he waits until you nod - immediately, enthusiastically - to press his fingers down. You feel oddly safe knowing that he knows how to choke you out - you assume it means he also knows how to avoid choking you out. The pressure restricts your airways just enough to make you feel lightheaded. 

You’re finally a little quieter. For once, he liked you loud. Your constant complaints are a nuisance to his eardrums, but your moans are gorgeous. Chris’ other hand plays with your clit, bringing you closer to your peak. 

You have to cum first. There’s a split second where he worries you won’t and you’ll drag him over the edge first, forcing him to cum inside you. The disobedient bratty side of you takes over and you do try to hold out, you clench your inner walls just to watch his self-restraint falter. But the sight of him above you, his heavy breathing, swears muttered through gritted teeth, the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside you - it’s too much. 

Your back arches off the bed, your legs tremble and you soak the sheets as your orgasm takes you by surprise. Chris barely pulls out in time, cumming on your stomach as you try to catch your breath. You’re still shaking when he falls on the bed next to you. 

“Goddammit,” he sighs, “you’re great in the field and in the bedroom.”

“Roger that, Captain.”

He laughs. “I never thought I’d say this, but please, just call me ‘Chris’.”

“I’ll remember that for round two.”

THE WALKING DEAD (2010 - 2022) Season 2 (deleted scene)

a) the quality is terrible

b) I’m going to hell

YOOO IDK IF YOU SAW MY REPOST BUT I LOVED THE MATCHMAKER FIC, the built up, the smut, MERLE, I loved everything about itttt. If you have a tagg list pls tagg me 🎀🩷 also pls pls pls write more Daryl stuff with Merle as a side carackter lols

I DID SEE!!! I'm so glad you liked it!! You'll be the first addition to my taglist :D I have a few requests that came in after I posted that so I'm working on them now! Will definitely try to get Merle in there too

Serial Killer!Rick Grimes x f!Reader Smut: Trophies

Warnings/Mentions: Murder, use of alcohol, Rough sex, choking, slapping, biting, hair pulling, spitting, overstimulation, Rick is a sadist in bed and gift giving is his love language, but also just likes to see you wearing belongings of people he's killed

Summary: Rick gets tired of putting his kill trophies in a box, so he puts them on you instead. Then you fuck.

Notes: I finally got around to finishing this yippee! There's 2 smut scenes, first is kind of short and tame, and the one at the end is a few pages long and contains the more aggressive parts. Somewhat proofread!!

There were many routines in your life, and the lives of the people around you. 

Rick was no exception. 

Any time he'd leave the prison he'd go through the checklist in his mind; revolver, ammunition, his machete, water and a little bit of food. 

And his cassette player, with that single tape. 

Every note of the unnamed female's voice was engraved deep into his brain. He knew every hum and breath, every strum of her gentle fingers across her guitar. 

It was just some tape he'd found. Didn't have a sentimental meaning to it from life before, wasn't some artist he was a fan of. He found it in that old rundown music store the two of you spent a night in back in Atlanta, and he took it. 

You'd seen him with it plenty of times but you'd never actually seen him listen to it. You never gave it a second thought until you were on a run together, driving in silence down the long winding back roads.

You asked if he wanted to play his tape on the car stereo, and his friendly calm demeanor was instantly replaced with that look you'd only seen very few times. 

“No.” The look on his face was enough to change your entire mood for the day. 

His later attempts at cheering you up were only met with feigned smiles and laughter, something he was quick to pick up on. 

“Why don't we go see that river you told me about, long time ago.” He looked over at you in the passenger seat, giving you that trademark Rick Grimes smile. 

“Oh, if it's not out of the way, yeah.” You shrugged. It was clear you were still feeling unnerved by the ice thrown in your direction for seemingly no reason.

“If there's as many fish as you said there were, then it don't matter.” 

“Okay, yeah, should be fun.”

Rick grinned when he could sense your attitude reaching a more positive level. “Alright. River first thing in the morning. Know of any place around here we can camp out for the night?”

“There's some old camping grounds a few miles up from the entrance point to the river. They used to set up tents near this fishing shed, tents are probably gone but the shed won't be. There's a few larger cabins up the same road but I have a feeling they're probably occupied. Was a real nice place.”

Rick nodded and continued driving. 

He said, come wander, with me, love

Rick closed his eyes as he sat in the front room in the largest cabin. If his timing was right, they should be walking up the steps now. 

Now at the door. Now opening the door. Now walking in. Now they saw him. 

It was careless, what he was doing. Careless. You were asleep down the road in that little fishing shed, you could wake up at any minute and find the bedroll next to you cold and empty. Get worried, wait a few minutes, then get out your gun and come looking for him. It was stupid. 

He just couldn't help himself. It'd been so long. 

He opened his eyes.

One woman, three men. The first man was scrawny, easy. Rick could take him out with little to no effort. The woman was a bit chubby, but very short. She looked horrified already, she'd be easy too. 

The other two men would be a bit of a challenge. Tall and well built.

Their mouths moved as they stared at the strange man sitting in their house. He could make out a few ‘what’s but that was about it. 

He caught them off guard by walking right up to them. 

First big man caught a knife to the head. The other pulled his gun and shot, barely missing Rick's shoulder. 

Rick yanked the knife free and grabbed a wrist, pinning it against the front door, smashing over and over against the wood until his grip spasmed, and the gun fell with a clatter. 

The woman was pulling at him like a sick dog. He reared back and elbowed her in the face, breaking her nose and knocking her unconscious. She fell to the floor with a thud, and the scrawny man dropped to check on her. 

Rick turned back to the man he had pinned against the wall. He was angry, cursing, little white bubbles of foamy spit spraying from his lips. A trembling hand reached up, desperate to poke an eye or anything that could potentially stun Rick, only succeeding in ripping out the buds in the older man's ears.

He set his jaw as his heart began to race. Now it would get sloppy. 

Rick reared back, and slammed his head forward so hard he felt the bridge of his nose instantly crack against his forehead. Blood spewed from his nose down his face, spraying Rick in the process. 

The man reeled before collapsing. The hard part was over. The easier ones were more of a chore.

Rick stood back and admired his work. 

The woman had a plastic bag over her head, but it was still obvious she'd been bludgeoned. Poor thing, didn't even wake up before she'd been so brutally slaughtered. 

The scrawny man had his neck snapped. It was by complete accident, Rick didn't expect him to be so… fragile. He laid in the living room next to the woman and the first man he'd stabbed. 

Rick looked down at the dog tags in his hand. They were fake, he could tell that much. Ordered at some flea market from cheap metal. The back had worn away to copper.

He balled up the rest of his rope and stuffed it in his duffle bag before finally leaving, the pleads and begging falling on deaf ears.

It took their people three days to find them.

“You, that's the man that killed Javier. I saw you leaving the same night we found him.” 

That didn't alarm you. You knew Rick had killed people before. The words that followed soon after were a different story.

It was the third day of your scavenging run. The first day you spent on the road looking for a spot. The second day you spent on the river, mostly fishing and picking out places on a crinkled old map to go on the third day. 

You'd just woken up, eyes still foggy with sleep as you walked out of the fishing shed to see Rick standing in front of a small group of people.

“Your man was a threat to my people.” Rick used the barrel of his revolver as he spoke like some sort of pointer rod, making the three strangers flinch each time it aimed at one of them. 

“No. You tied him up like a skinned deer, was he still alive when you cut his stomach open?” Their leader's questioning was cut off with a quick gunshot to the head. 

You gasped, not expecting that, and brought your hand to cover your mouth. 

“No!” A blonde woman shrieked and fell to her knees beside her lover's limp body. She looked up to Rick then, venom in her spit as she spoke. “You're worse than the dead ones!”

Rick killed her just as well as the silent man behind her. Then it was just you and him, and now you were the mute.

You weren't thinking, really. Your eyes were still wide and burning from not blinking, staring into the pile of bodies that had been alive only seconds ago. 

“Hey, you alright?” His voice was back to normal and you blinked, seeing he was now knelt beside you with that familiar look of compassion. That was the Rick you knew, not that cold thing that used his body only minutes before. 

“Yeah, just, I wasn't expecting that.” You breathed. Your lips and fingers felt numb, despite it being a warm October day. 

Rick nodded, looking down at the dirt between his feet. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before speaking.

“I keep forgetting you're not as… seasoned as the rest of us.” 

No. That wasn't it.

You were no stranger to killing, but the people you killed were in self defense. 

What Rick just did was cold blooded murder. And the way he made it seem like the most normal thing a man could do had your chest feeling tight.

“I'm hungry.” It was all you could think to say. 

He snorted at that, taken aback by your words. “Hungry? Okay. You okay staying here for a few? I can go search that old country store down the road.”

You nodded, glancing at the bodies only a few feet away. He followed your gaze and squeezed your knee to redirect your attention back to him. 

“Keep your radio on. I'll just be a little while, okay?” He smiled when you nodded. “Don't use your gun unless you have to.”

You were thankful he drug the bodies away before he left. 

Come wander with me. 

Rick took a deep breath.

It had been two weeks, his self control was slowly slipping. He'd gone a year without killing once, when Carl was born. At the time it was easy. 

The old brown house, threatening to crumble at any moment from the massive amounts of dry rot and termites, was a perfect place to look for people out on their own. They loved staying in the inconspicuous hole in the walls, places that you would never notice unless you were desperate and terrified. 

He moved out of the shadows and dug his knife into the base of a skull. They died in his arms and he held them there, closing his eyes as the struggles grew weaker and weaker, until they finally stopped all at once.

He opened his heavy lids to see a woman screaming, her hands covering her mouth from the opposite side of the small living room.  The buds in his ears prevented him from hearing most of it. 

Rick let the lifeless body slide from his arms, and stood. He was quick as he walked towards her, grabbing her by her hair and letting out a disappointed ‘tsk’ at her state of shock. She could have easily escaped but she chose to stay there and wail.

He came from the sunset, he came from the sea.

Rick held her against his chest as she squirmed in his arms, pounding her fists against his chest, her movements futile, weak from starvation and dehydration. He closed his eyes again as he held her there, dragging his knife up the base of her spine. He could hear her screams now, they'd transformed from anger to terror, dry screeches as she pleaded for her life.

Rick found his thoughts drifting to you, and now it was your voice humming in his ears, replacing the unknown feminine voice he'd grown so accustomed to. 

You truly were a sight to behold. Even if it was just in his mind. 

A sharp kick to his knee snapped the image of you out of his mind, and sent him into a state of anger. He opened his eyes and gritted his teeth before yanking her head to the side, looking down at her soft tanned skin. 

A mother Mary coin sat at the base of her throat, dangling on a thin chain, only for a second before Rick gently took it off. 

She jerked against him as she realized she was bleeding, streams of warm blood gushing down her neck and chest. 

Her already weak movements became weaker as she bled out, only managing to give a last ditch attempt of escape when his knife was removed from her throat. Her jerking against him stilled, and he pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes glued to hers as he watched her blue eyes turn glossy.

Rick took the earbuds from his ears and put them in the back pocket of his jeans, along with the necklace. 

He wouldn't need to put his trophies in a box anymore.

You smiled in surprise as you looked at the jewelry in your open palm. 

“Do I seem the religious type?” You mused, running your finger over the gold oval. Mother Mary. You didn't expect Rick to think of you when seeing something like that. 

“No.” He hummed, a soft smile on his lips. He looked so sweet then, the orange reflections of the campfire dancing across his face. 

You wanted to question him, ask him where he found it and why he decided you were fit to wear it, but your lips closed when he moved to put it around your neck. 

He was gentle, gentle as he moved your hair over your shoulder, and gentle as he closed the clasp and brushed your hair back in its original position.

“Thanks Rick. It's really pretty.” Your fingers stroked the charm at your neck, the metal warm from being in his back pocket. You decided then you didn't care to know about the where or the why, the hows or why there was dried blood on the back of it. 

“Dinners ready. Go get Daryl and come eat.” He brushed your hair behind your ear and smiled. He was looking at you, but not really looking at you. 

“Okay.”

You managed to drag Daryl down from the watchtower for dinner without much complaining. But to your confusion, the group only stayed around the table for about ten minutes to chat, eat their roasted trout and canned asparagus, and then they left. Not one at a time either. 

When you finished the last few bites of your dinner, Rick took you into the warden's office, a nice secluded space with comfortable chairs and a pretty brown desk table.

You looked up from the table to see Rick walking back with a bottle of wine in hand, a sly smile on his face.

You raised a brow and smirked as he poured it into two plastic cups, setting yours in front of you before sitting down. 

“This what I think it is?” You teased, taking a sip of wine to cool your nerves. You were anxious as hell, although your calm and amused exterior didn't show it. 

Was Rick Grimes, leader of your group, seriously flirting with you? Beyond the usual innocent playfulness? 

“Depends on what you think it is. Date? Yes. Work conference? No.” He took a sip. 

“So, you just tell them all to stay away from here? They know?” You suddenly blushed at the idea of the group knowing Rick was sweet on you. It felt like dating the cool kid in school all over again. 

“Well, not exactly that, but yeah, they know.” He looked at you then in a way that made you nervous. It was the way he used to look at Lori. All soft eyed and smiles.

You barely knew him, like really knew him, you hung around Carol, Carl and Glenn more than anyone else, it just felt too out of place for you to hang out with Rick or Daryl. That role was better suited for Maggie or Michonne. 

When he had asked you to go out on that run a few days ago with him, just him, you were stunned. And now here he was, serving you dinner and fancy wine like you were his wife. 

“Why? I mean, why me?” 

He furrowed his brows and looked at you thoughtfully, as if he didn't quite know the answer himself. He took another sip of wine before answering. 

“I don't know why. I just know I like you.” 

You grinned a bit at that. “You like me, huh? It's cause of my Kardashian looks isn't it?”

Rick laughed and shook his head. “Kardashian looks huh? Yeah, sure.” 

The tension from your end quickly faded the more you talked. 

You couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of guilt the more Rick flirted with you. Lori had died not too long ago, and even though he seemed completely fine, you worried it was him finding unhealthy ways to cope. 

You didn't know he already had a lifelong coping mechanism, and you were another thing entirely. 

Murder was always common in the apocalypse. You'd seen more victims of humans than you could count. 

Moving into Alexandria though, it seemed like almost every time you went outside the walls you'd find a new dead body a few miles away, obviously done by a human and not the dead.

“Jesus.” Daryl muttered, using a stick to move a dead man's head to the side, showcasing the dramatic knife wound to his cheek. 

“They're getting closer to home.” You muttered, looking down at the body near your feet as Daryl poked at it. 

“Yeah.” He agreed. He dropped his stick and stood up, shaking his head. “Sorry sonvabitch that did this better hope he don't come any closer.” 

That night Rick gave you another piece of jewelry. A silver thumb ring, long but not visually remarkable. 

“This is actually really pretty.” You said as you slipped it on your thumb, opposite hand of the other ring Rick gave you in the past. 

“Yeah?” Rick grinned, looking over his shoulder as he took the dishes from dinner to his sink.

He'd invited you over for dinner. You appreciated it, it had been a while since you had time alone with the man. You'd begun to miss him and his daring flirtation. 

“Yeah, don't need to worry about it snagging on anything either. Can wear it when I go out.” Your fingers continued fidgeting with the ring, spinning it around your thumb as you watched him clean up. 

He dried his hands and walked over to you, offering out a hand, an act that made your stomach do flips. “I'm glad you like it.”

You took his hand, warm, his fingers so large and thick they made yours look like they belonged to a pianist in comparison. 

He led you from your seat at the dining room table to his living room, leaving you on the couch while he went to dig through a basket.

You watched him from your spot on the couch as he put a DVD in the player under the living room tv. You wondered then, would they be gone all night? Carl, Michonne, Daryl? Did he tell them to find somewhere else to sleep for the night? 

You blushed wildly at the idea of everyone in Alexandria knowing Rick was trying to have sex with you. 

“How long will they be gone?” You blurted.

Rick turned to you after turning on the TV, a brow raised. “Couple hours. Why?” 

“Well, if it's gonna be a sleepover I gotta get my stuff.” You laughed nervously, cursing yourself for sounding so awkward and timid. 

“I didn't plan on it, but,” he groaned dramatically as he plopped down onto the cushy couch next to you, “-the idea is tempting.” 

You realized you were wrong in your assumption that he was trying to get laid. Fuck. That was embarrassing.

He seemed open to it though, right? Or were you just so touch deprived that you were fooling yourself into reading him the wrong way?

You watched the first Twilight movie and laughed most of the time, but you caught Rick watching intently at the baseball scene. 

“I'm so pissed the outbreak had to happen when it did. We were two months away from the sequel. Two months! That means they finished it and it's on some hard drive somewhere, never to be seen.”

Rick smiled at your complaining, that same look of strange admiration on your face. 

You still didn't know how to react to it, on one hand, it was extremely flattering and you were starting to get turned on, but on the second hand it rationally was a little off-putting. Maybe he really did just have a thing for you, maybe it was just as simple as that. 

His gaze should've made you blush and swoon, and it definitely did, but… there was something about it that set your teeth on edge. Far too intimidating.

“Maybe we'll find it one day.”

“That would be the day we have a real slumber party. Popcorn, sodas, everything.”

“Yeah? Gonna braid each other's hair too?” He teased.

You scoffed and playfully punched his shoulder. The man didn't even budge, like he was made of stone. “Can you braid?”

“Damn good at it.”

You gaped at him in amused disbelief. “No shot!” 

“C'mere.” Rick's knees spread and he tapped his shoe on the floor between his feet. 

You gulped some wine before quickly shrugging, and got on the floor, your feet tucked neatly under your butt. 

His hands felt illegally good. He brushed your hair over your shoulders and ran his fingers through it, from your roots down to the ends. Each time his fingertips ran down your scalp you were given a fresh wave of goosebumps, and when they brushed against the back of your neck you visibly shivered. 

Rick wasn't lying. He managed to give you a beautiful braid, working with what was given to make something you'd be happy to wear on a fancy date. You ran your fingers over the braid and scoffed in shock. 

“It's so pretty.” You admired the way the necklace he had given you back at the prison was on full view, no longer hidden or covered by your hair. It sat right at your collarbone, and the neckline of your black and red dress framed it perfectly.

When Rick said ‘wear something nice’ for dinner you immediately panicked and went to Rosita. She picked out a beautiful dress for you, it was classy but not over the top, pretty to look at but also comfortable to lay around in. 

You looked at him in the mirror in front of you. He was looking at you again, but different this time. 

Less wholesome admiration, more… desire. He had little readable expression but the bit you could read had your lower stomach flipping with excitement. 

You turned to face him and took a second to appreciate the way the black button up shirt hugged his muscles just so slightly. It wasn't the cover of some smutty werewolf or vampire novel, but fuck, it had your knees feeling weak. 

“Told you.” 

It took you a moment to process what he meant, but when you did, you smiled and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, you did. Where'd you learn to braid like this?”

“Same place they taught me how to pick up women.” He winked. You both laughed. 

You ended up back on the couch with a different movie put in. Neither of you were paying any attention to it though, your focus slowly shifting to each other.

“Think they'll be back soon?” You had the courage to flirt all of a sudden. 

Maybe it was the wine that had loosened you up, or maybe it was the fact he looked so hot in that shirt and smelled like sandalwood and jasmine. 

“Hm, maybe.” He flirted back, an edge of tauntful tease to his voice. “Why?”

“Well, usually after a date goes this well…” You trailed off and wiggled your eyebrows. Your boldness surprised the both of you, and he couldn't help but chuckle. 

“Yeah? What's that?” He hummed, his smile slowly fading when he looked from your eyes to your lips. 

“Girl shows the guy a good time.”

“That right?” He leaned in, and you could smell his cologne stronger than before. You closed your eyes and bit back a sigh. 

“Maybe, I don't know. Never been on a date this good.” You leaned in, mirroring his movements, looking down to his lips. 

“How about the guy shows the girl a good time, huh? How about that?” His voice was breathy then, warm and smelling like expensive wine. 

You nodded and he smiled, breaking past the last few inches to kiss you. 

He was so soft. His hands cupped your cheeks with a featherlight caress, and his lips were equally as gentle. He moved them against yours, his tongue slipping out to trace along your wine stained lips. You parted your lips and moaned at the feeling of his tongue in your mouth. 

Rick guided you on your back, just as gentle as every man you'd seen on all those romance movies you pretended to cringe at. His hand under the small of your back had a wave of wetness seeping out of you, you had underestimated how truly touch starved you were. 

It wasn't long before he had led you up to his bedroom. You were astonished at how neat everything was. Bed was made, sheets looked fresh out of the wash. 

He had his revolver laid out on his dresser along with a few other melee weapons, his machete, axe, and a long dagger. Everything was perfectly organized. 

And there, in the duffel bag peeking out from under his bed, sat his cassette player. 

Once the door was closed behind him he wasted no time in undressing you, popping open the buttons on the back of your dress. He moved slow and meticulously, brushing the sleeves off your shoulders to plant a few kisses on the warm skin there. 

You sighed at his touch and pressed your back against his chest, aching to feel him envelop you in his warmth. 

He took his hands away from your sides to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt but you turned and placed your hand on top of his. He looked at you curiously and you returned a sheepish smile. 

“You look really good in these clothes.” 

He grinned when he realized your intentions and he left his shirt buttoned, save for the three at the top. 

Rick looked unbelievably sexy then, a few golden curls of chest hair visible from the slit in his shirt, his hair slightly ruffled from your hands, and a face so blown with lust that you could touch yourself to it for more than one orgasm. 

Then he had you on his bed sprawled out for him, your arms lying above your head as you watched him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. When he pulled the zipper down, and pulled his cock out, you literally whimpered at the sight. It was beautiful, like the picture perfect example of a male penis. Perfect girth, perfect length, even the mess of brown and blonde pubes were stunning. 

You could go on forever about Rick Grimes’ dick. 

He gave a smug smirk as he moved to take his place over you, pulling down your dress the rest of the way and immediately planting his smug little face between your legs. 

You gasped and threw your head back against the mattress. He nuzzled your clothed clit with his nose, inhaling your scent and sneakily stroking his dick with his right hand. With the other he held onto your left thigh, fingers digging into the skin there.

He took his time working you up, licking and sucking and even once nipping your clit through the fabric of your panties. 

You were a whimpering mess by the time he pulled his head away and went to take your panties off. 

He stopped your hand and you looked up at him, brows furrowed. 

“These look really good on you.” He smirked. 

Your head fell back into the mattress when he pulled your panties to the side. Thank GOD you took the cute panties Rosita offered you. If you were wearing one of your practical sets of underwear you would've died from embarrassment.

He rubbed his finger through your folds, gathering your slick to rub across your clit. You let out a pathetic whine and grabbed fistfuls of cotton sheets beside your head. 

He took his time. He slipped in his middle finger up to the knuckle, curling it painfully slowly. Bless Lori, or whoever the fuck taught him that. You were definitely coming tonight. 

“Rick, ah, mmm, god.” A hot puff of air from your lips blew a stray lock of hair from your face, a result from your braid having become messy. 

He tsked once and drew his finger back, wiping the wetness off on the head of his cock. 

You were basically on the edge of your seat at this point, leaning up on your elbows to watch every move he made. 

He ran his hands over your torso, ignoring your breasts which made you whine in disappointment. 

His eyes flicked up to you, and you were filled with an unexplainable sense of anxiety. Like there was something in you, dating way back to when you needed instincts to survive. Your instincts were telling you that you needed to leave, now. You were in danger. 

Every hair on your arms, thighs, the back of your neck, they all prickled. Your upper lip twitched, as if it wanted to pull back and show him your teeth.

“You just tell me to stop, and I will, okay?” His voice was low. 

Your blood ran cold.

“What?” You whispered, your bottom lip trembled, and you found breathing became a difficult task. 

He repeated himself, his voice still just as low, that same dangerous look on his face. He moved quickly. 

He was inside you before you had time to adjust, his hand covering your mouth to muffle the pained noises you made. He groaned into your neck and buried himself deeper inside you, his dick twitching as your walls spasmed around him. He pulled out slowly, savoring the tight drag of your hot cunt, before plunging back in. 

Rick was rough, rougher than you could have ever predicted. It was so strange, earlier he was so soft and gentle. He fucked you hard and rough like that for a few long minutes before flipping you over on your stomach. 

His hands were on your hips. His fingers digging painfully into your soft skin. He used his upper body weight to render your lower half helpless beneath his open palms. 

He groaned as he watched his dick disappear back into you, his eyebrows knitted tightly together and his mouth hanging open. 

“Je-jesus christ.” Your moan was strangled in your throat as his hands closed around your neck. 

You didn't have time to take a preparation breath, he squeezed quick and hard, immediately cutting off all blood and air flow to your brain. You tried to pry his fingers away and off of you but he didn't relent, only squeezing harder. 

Your vision blurred and your head swam with thick panic, you dug your fingernails into the back of his hand until his grip loosened.

The lungful of air you sucked in felt fresher than any breath you'd ever taken. You didn't have long before his fist was in your hair, yanking your head to the side to stuff your discarded panties into your mouth. 

You whimpered in protest but he just shoved your face into his pillows and plowed deeper into you. 

It wasn’t quick at all, quite the opposite. 

He fucked you like that for what felt like hours. It was realistically maybe twenty minutes, but that was still a long time to get fucked. 

Your body trembled underneath him from the exhaustion of back to back orgasms. He had already came inside you once, and you felt a small sense of relief, but he didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. He just moaned into your neck and continued battering your insides.

You were spent. Every part of your body ached, your pussy felt raw and your clit throbbed painfully. Your stomach and chest chafed against his comforter, and right before it got too much he flipped you over.

Rick looked down at you like you were a painting he finally finished after months of perfecting.

He slid his warm rough hands over your chest, pinching your sore nipples, squeezing your red breasts. 

His eyes found your necklace and he rolled his hips, earning a muffled whine in response. Then they found the ring on your middle finger, and rolled into you again. The thumb ring on your other hand. Your body shivered when he slammed his pelvis forward.

You couldn’t respond in any way, you pulled your panties from your dry mouth and panted, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

He changed completely after he finished. He peppered kisses all over you, sweet and soft against your cheeks, down your neck and chest, tender and soft on your nipples. 

He took care of you after, he cleaned you with a cool rag and brought you one of his white t shirts to change into. He silently asked you to stay the night with more gentle kisses after you attempted to leave.

You shouldn't have been snooping, you knew it was wrong.

The song felt chilling after what you’d witnessed throughout your time in knowing him, and the night you'd shared. 

You sat at the foot of his bed and listened, unaware of the way your fingers had begun to twitch around the tape player. 

Something about it felt wrong, like you were listening to Gloomy Sunday after hearing the legend surrounding it as a child again. Your heart raced as the song finished and you put the cassette player back where you found it, in his duffle bag at the foot of his bed. 

You made it down the stairs before you rounded the corner and smacked right into a large chest. 

“Jesus woman.” 

You let out a breath when you saw it was Daryl. Covered in dirt and smelling like cigarettes and gasoline, a familiar sight that sets you at ease. 

“Shit, sorry.”

He'd been slightly annoyed at the way you startled him, but something had caught his eye and his irritation faded. 

“Y'alright?” He grunted, looking at you with a raised brow. 

“Yeah, I'm okay.” You nodded. He eyed you suspiciously before leaving without a goodbye, heading up the stairs to Rick's room. 

“He's not here.” 

He stopped in his tracks and turned to look down at you. “Where's he at then?”

“I don't know.”

You found out the reason for his staring when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror. You'd need to wear turtlenecks for the next few days. 

Rick was thrown off his game without his music. He was more aggressive, sloppy, and hateful in the way he killed. 

“Please!” His voice sounded pathetic. It made Rick curl his top lip in disgust as he watched him squirm against his restraints, the bodies of his loved ones littering the ground next to him. 

“Don't leave me here.” He begged as the chill of night crept through the thick trees they found themselves in. It carried the smell of rain, rotten leaves and cigarette butts. 

“Give me one good reason.” Rick held his bloodied machete as he observed the man. 

Young, maybe early twenties. Black hair, a black ‘beard’, which was too patchy to really qualify as one, and an orange sweater. The sweater had been mostly stained a reddish brown from his blood, and the blood of his friends, which all had the mercy of a better fate than what awaited him.

His body sagged as he twisted against the pine, his wrists burning and bruising from the frayed rope. 

“I'm a good man. Never done anything wrong. Never killed, never raped anyone-”

“Aw, well, ain't that nice of you?” Rick sneered, slipping the machete in the back of his belt. “How gracious.”

“I got a dog, man, please.”

Rick chewed on the inside of his cheek before taking his machete back out again. 

The man erupted into more begging and crying as Rick approached him. He let out a short lived scream before looking down to see his hands were now freed and in front of him. 

“Wh-”

“Ten seconds.” Rick's revolver felt firm in his grip. “Ten,”

The man stood stunned for a moment, holding his aching wrists, his eyes darting from Rick to the bodies at their feet. 

“Nine.” Rick's voice was louder then, like a father giving his child one last warning to start acting straight. 

“Eight!” 

The man took off through the woods, and there was no reason to count any longer. 

You ran your fingers over the cold metal in your hands. It was stunning, something you never would've dreamed of holding before the outbreak. A gold chain, thin but strong. Not dainty enough that it could be broken off with a snag.

Small red beads dangled from the chain, twelve rubies spread out along the length. They looked like little drops of wine.

“Where did you get this?”

It was the first time you'd asked him a question before thanking him for his gifts. 

He silently took the bracelet from your hands and clasped it around your wrist, his fingertips ghosting over the veins of your arms.

“In a jewelry box. That neighborhood I stopped at last week.”

You watched his fingers part from your wrist and the dangling rubies sway. You knew it was a lie. 

“You ever get stuff like this for anyone else?” 

He chuckled and leaned back on the couch, his eyes never leaving your form. “No.”

You looked over your shoulder at him and sighed, unable to keep the smirk from spreading on your face when you saw the way he was looking at you. “You know, I really like sweets too.” 

He raised a brow and broke into a grin. “Sweets, of course,right. What, chocolates? Candy?”

“Mhmm. Dark chocolate with sea salt. Or, chocolate with raspberries.” Your mouth watered as you recalled the old luxuries you'd once taken for granted. 

“Alright. Noted.” 

Being alone with Rick in his house was something that should've scared you. Especially considering what you'd seen in the past, and the darker side of him in bed. 

But looking at him in his form fitting white tee-shirt, the fireplace covering him in a warm orange glow, your degenerate lust filled brain made none of that matter. 

“C'mere.” His hand beckoned you to him from its spot on the back of the couch. 

You hesitated for appearances, not wanting to come off too eager, before eventually giving in and leaning back. 

His arm slipped from the couch above you and wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his embrace. 

You rested your cheek on his chest and inhaled the smell of his cologne. It was deep and dark, you recognized it as his bottle of  “Leather and Embers”, whatever the hell that meant. As you savored the smell he pressed his face into your scalp and soaked in your smells, rose and eucalyptus shampoo, wisteria lotion. It was so light and feminine and so utterly you that just the smell made his dick twitch in his jeans. 

“Gonna go on a supply run with a few others tomorrow. Need some ammo. You wanna join me?”

“Depends.” You pretended to think about it for a second, a playful smirk on your lips. “Who’s all going?”

Rick hummed and squinted, playing along with your thoughtful act. “Me, Carol, Aaron, Glenn, Maggie. Daryl might come, hasn’t decided yet.” You snorted at the idea of Daryl ever turning down work. 

“All of us gonna fit in that itty-bitty car?”

“Taking separate cars. Cover more area that way.” His hand gave your shoulder a slight squeeze and you looked up to see him leaning in for a kiss. You met him halfway and smiled against his lips as his other arm wrapped around you.

You grinned, full of pride, as you walked through the gap between two small houses to find Rick, holding two ammunition boxes. One was half full of buckshot shells, the other completely full of 9mm ammo.

He started searching the first house on the block, so he should be at the third right about-

You froze in the doorway as you took in the scene in front of you. 

You could see the back of Rick standing in the center of the dining room, the bodies of one man and two women laid across the long table in front of him. 

He was taking earbuds out from his ears and putting them into his back pocket, his hands so covered in blood that his fingers seemed to melt together. 

You must've made a noise because he turned around. 

What was once a look of serenity instantly turned like the tides of an ocean. His eyes no longer resembled a warm blue sky, instead a clash of dark and stormy gray.  

His lips moved in the form of your name, but you didn't react. 

You looked from body to body, taking in the gruesome ways they'd been killed. One woman had her throat slit with so much force that you could see bone. 

Another had countless stab wounds in her chest and a few on her neck. It looked angry, and much more violent than anything you'd ever been unfortunate enough to see.

 The man had been gutted, his organs sloshing out of him to lay between his body and what you assumed to be the body of his wife.

Your body didn't react when his hands grabbed your shoulders. You didn't even notice that he'd approached you, his hands raised, his knees slightly bent to make himself appear smaller, less of a threat.

When he turned you around to lead you out of the house you caught a glimpse of three chocolate bars in a plastic bag sitting at the front door. 

“I need you to look at me.”

You blinked and took in your new surroundings. You were sitting on the hood of your car, his bloodied hands on your knees. The contrast of deep red against your skin had a groan catching in your throat. 

Rick's voice snapped your name and you looked to his face. He looked prepared, as if he'd imagined this scenario countless times before. 

“What you just saw-”

“I know.”

“No, you don't. I had to, I-”

“Rick.” The coldness of your voice had him forgetting the way he'd been frustrated at you for interrupting him again. “You don't lie to me. Not me.” 

His face softened, but he felt an uncomfortable tightening in his throat and chest. He nodded, his eyes falling away from yours to look at your knees. 

When he saw the blood he drew his hands away as if he'd been stung. 

“You killed them and you liked it.”

As quick as a snake his hand shot out and grabbed the base of your throat. His eyes were back on yours now, freezing you with a cold stare. “It’d be in your best interest to forget what you saw here.” 

Your body didn't react the way either of you expected it to. You grabbed at his wrist and let out a whimper, your thighs clenching together so hard they trembled. 

His grip loosened as he saw your form tremble under him, not from fear, but arousal. He furrowed his brows and looked back to your eyes, studying each and every flicker in them. 

It was an unsteady standoff, neither of you knowing which move to make next. He experimented and tightened his hand again, earning another whimper from your lips. 

He took it a step further and with his other bloodied hand, he slipped his fingers between your knees, gently spreading them apart. 

With your thighs spread he filled the gap with his waist. He hooked two fingers in the belt loops of your shorts and tugged you down the hood closer to him, your pelvis bumping against the semi he had growing in his jeans. 

Rick groaned at the contact and leaned in to plant his face in the crook of your neck, his hand departing from your throat to trail down your chest. He toyed with the gold coin of your necklace, rubbing his fingertips over the warm metal. 

“Rick-”

“No, shh-shh-shh, you were being so good.” He groaned, his jeans rubbing your thighs as he softly pushed against you.

“I just, a shower, let's wait-” 

He growled in your ear and squeezed your thighs so tightly you let out a yelp. “No, think I'll have you right here.” 

His words sent a shiver down your spine and before you could react, he pushed you flat on your back. 

You were finally there, your muscles relaxing and your eyes closing, ready to surrender to Rick and let him have his way. But as always, something had to go wrong. 

The gurgling sound of a walker snapped you from your daze. 

Rick pulled away from you and used the machete from his belt to take out the first two. 

“Rick!” You called in a nervous voice, your eyes locked on the group of walkers behind the car. 

“Shit. Alright, get in.” He cursed and opened the passenger door for you. You slid into the seat, pulling your knees back just in time to avoid the heavy metal door being slammed after you. 

Your eyes followed Rick round the front of the car. Then, as if he was playing some weird joke, he took his hand back from the door handle and ran back into the house.

“Fuck.” You whispered, watching three walkers follow him to the door. You had your hand on the car door handle, ready to jump out after him and help, but before you could dig out your knife he reappeared in the doorway.

You shook your head when he finally sat down beside you and started the car. 

He plopped the bag in your lap and you stared down at it. 

The three chocolate bars. 

“I know you said dark chocolate, salt and raspberries n’whatnot. But this is all I could find.” He said it like he was apologizing, like he was dissatisfied with his findings. 

“Rick, I haven't had chocolate in so long that it could be some nasty rainbow white chocolate with sprinkles and I'd love it. Fuck.” You unwrapped the first bar and snapped off a small square. 

As soon as it hit your tongue you moaned, completely forgetting the scene from earlier. It was your favorite type, something you hadn't had in God knows how long. 

Rick smiled fondly as you swirled the chocolate around your tongue, looking at you the same way he'd looked at you at dinner, the same way he used to look at Lori. 

You were blissfully unaware, your eyes closed as you savored the flavor.

He bit his bottom lip and looked back to the road ahead, slowing down as he passed the road that the others had gone down. 

He raised a hand out the open window to Glenn, who'd returned a thumbs up, going inside to gather the others to head back home.

“Want a bite?” 

You smiled sweetly as he looked back to you and the open Butterfinger that was in your left hand, your favorite chocolate in your right. 

“Indulging ourselves, are we?” He smirked playfully as he took the Butterfinger from you and took a heaping bite. It was so big he'd taken half the bar and you scoffed, smacking his shoulder. 

“Geeze! Talk about being indulgent!” You teased and snatched the chocolate back, finishing it off with three more bites. 

 You ate your sweets in silence, and soon it had turned from a comfortable silence to a thick cloud of tension when you pulled up to the gates of Alexandria.

He called your name and you forced yourself to look at him. 

Rick's expression was hard to gauge. 

It almost seemed like a mask, now that you'd seen what he was capable of doing, it felt like you were sitting beside a stranger. Your heart sped up, you were suddenly scared of saying or doing the wrong thing, sending him into aggression or something worse. 

“Yeah?” Your voice sounded foreign to you. Almost as foreign as the way Rick was looking at you. 

He waited a few painfully long moments before the essence of a smirk formed on his lips that were still speckled with blood. “I'm making dinner tonight. You should come.”

You blew out a lungful of air and nodded. “Okay, yeah, I will.”

“Wear somethin’ nice.” His voice was barely a whisper. You didn't have time to ask him to clarify before the gates opened and he drove you in. 

You felt a bit ridiculous in your dark blue dress. It was extremely snug, almost uncomfortable, ending right at your knees, drawing attention to the curve and dip of your hips and waist. There was no one else for dinner, thank god, because you felt seconds away from a panic attack.

Fettuccine noodles with Carol's homemade alfredo sauce. Despite your painful anxiety you wolfed the creamy noodles down, along with a heaping glass of dark red wine. 

It was painfully tense. You found yourself wondering how the car ride home had been completely fine, it hadn't been awkward at all, not until you pulled up to the gates. It might have been the adrenaline and shock. 

Now it had worn off and you were finishing your second glass of wine, praying for the buzz to kick in so you wouldn’t feel like you were on the verge of an anxiety attack anymore. 

“Can we talk?” His voice made you jump. You looked up from your empty plate to his face, which had been thoroughly cleaned of the blood from earlier.

You didn't respond verbally. You gave a small nod and he inhaled deeply, his eyes falling from your face to the table. 

After a moment he looked back up to you. 

“I need to know you won't… you won't tell anyone. Things are still pretty tense here, these people already see me as someone to watch out for. I don't need them fearing me.”

“Fear could be a good thing.” You don't know why you said it. 

He managed a slight smile, clasping his hands together in front of his chin. “Yeah. It can be. But not this type of fear.”

“So what are you? Jack the ripper of the apocalypse?”

Rick cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. He folded his arms across his chest, his fingers tapping on his biceps, covered in a thick black sweater. 

“Alright. Nevermind.” You sighed. You finished off your wine and scratched your chin absentmindedly, still looking at his face. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Long time.”

You managed to hide your shock, and nodded. “Before the outbreak?”

He nodded, his eyes not leaving the silverware crossed over his empty plate. 

He didn't look guilty or ashamed like one logically should be. A bit uncomfortable, uncertain, a hint of worry and dread. You knew he was praying this conversation would go well and he wouldn't have to do anything devastating to secure keeping his position in the group as the fearless, honorable leader. 

“Did Lori know?”

Now he looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “No.” Of course she wouldn't have, what a stupid question. 

“Okay.” It was quiet until you finally gained the courage to address the elephant in the room. “Rick, are any of us in danger?”

Your question caused a drastic change in his demeanor. He leaned forward with an expression that was a mix of hurt and assurance, and you already knew the answer. 

“No, of course not.” He breathed, his hands tentatively crossing the table. “I would never hurt any of you people. You're my family. All of you. Even those,” he waved a hand over his shoulder, “stuck up pricks Deanna led.”

You wanted to believe him. You had no choice, honestly, you had no other option. You knew Rick was a good leader, even if he made rash and emotional decisions. He always listened to the opinions and advice of others, he always took their says into account. If he hadn't done it this far, there was no reason to believe he'd start doing it now that you knew. 

You weren't justifying it by any means. What he did was vile, monstrous, egregious. Nothing would ever change that. It just wasn't the old world anymore, you had bigger problems to worry about, as ironic as it sounded. 

“Okay.” 

You closed your eyes as he rounded the table and put his hands on your shoulders. You wished you could just turn your brain off, wipe your memory and forget, and your stomach churned with nausea. Not at the memory or knowledge of his little weekend hobby, but at the realization that it didn't bother you as much as it should've.

“Can I make it up to you?” His breath warmed your ear as his palms slid up and down your biceps. 

God, you were sick. You were disgusting. 

“Yeah.”

Carl was home, and so were Carol, Michonne and Daryl, so you led him back to your house across the street. 

Your house was almost an exact mirror image of his, same porch, same paint, same layout and everything. In fact, your bedroom window was a straight shot across from his. 

You shivered, remembering the times you'd play with him through your window, randomly flipping him off or giving him a thumbs down for no reason at all. It was so innocent.

A tingle spread through your core knowing the man who'd make silly gestures and faces at you through his window at night just to see you laugh was the same man who had gutted humans for kicks. 

You stood in your room, looking at his black window across the street as his hands worked to free you from your tight dress. He chuckled at the sight of your ass stuffed in the fabric, running his hands down your waist to grab the bottom of your dress and pull up. 

“Where'd you get this thing?” He mused, attempting to fix your hair from the battle of pulling it over your head. 

“Tara. She found it on a run, said the color suited me.” You snorted.

His arms wrapped around your now bare body, hands cupping the soft flesh of your breasts and kneading. 

“Hmm.” His face nuzzled in the back of your hair, inhaling your clean scent and enjoying the way it felt against his skin. You were just his polar opposite, so soft, sweet, where he was hard and rugged. So kind, patient, his pretty feminine contrast. 

You were trying so hard to hold it together and not beg him to fuck you the same way he'd fucked you the other night. You craved it. 

Ever since he had you that night you craved it. Craved the raw pain and utter helplessness. You craved more.

“Rick.” You whispered, placing your hands over his, their position still tender and gentle over your chest. 

“Hmm?” The sudden feeling of his knee between your thighs made you moan. He pressed it up higher, pushing firm against your panties, the soft gray pair that was far too tiny to wear in any other scenario. 

He grinned against the back of your neck at the realization, you'd put these on just for him.

“Speak, sweetheart.” He breathed, parting your hair to kiss your neck. 

Rick was doing a good job of making it hard to remember what you were planning on saying in the first place. He kissed down your neck, his hands sliding down your torso to rest on your hips to guide you forward towards your bed. 

“Got you something.” He muttered into your neck before he pulled back to push you on the bed. 

He dipped his fingers into the front pocket of his jeans, and pulled out a folded napkin. He glanced up at you, his eyes almost looking hesitant. 

You swallowed hard and watched him unfold the napkin, his movements slow, until he knelt on the floor in front of you and showed you his gift. 

“Oh.” You couldn't think of what to say. Earrings, small orbs that were a deep red color. On either side of the orb sat two diamonds, much smaller than the rubies.

“You like ‘em?” He urged, looking up at you, eager, desperate for your approval. Like his life depended on you putting them on. 

“Of course I do.” You nodded, and took them from the napkin in his open hands. 

His lips bloomed into a smile as you put them on. His eyes followed each move you made. 

The second you put the last one on he was on you, his lips on yours, a hand on your throat giving a gentle squeeze that sent excitement fluttering in your stomach.

You groaned, tilting your head back to give him better access. Wordlessly begging him to squeeze harder. 

He didn't get the hint, only dipping his head down to kiss the bottom of your chin. 

“Rick.” You drawled, your head dizzy and light from his touches and kisses. 

“Hmm.”

“You know how,” you sucked in a sharp breath as he nipped the skin below your ear, immediately going to kiss the reddening spot in an apology. “The other night you- you were rough?”

He pulled back, his hand relaxing around your throat, his fingers unfolding to simply press against the side of your neck. 

There was a look of sympathy, regret maybe. He nodded, his eyes soft and locked on yours. “I shouldn't have, I'm sorry. You're just…” he sighed, the sound coming out with a shudder. “Was it too much?”

“No.” You immediately answered, shaking your head. “I liked it.” Your words had an obvious affect on him. The sympathy was gone, completely replaced with building excitement. 

“I want that again.” 

He closed his eyes. His fingers twitched against the side of your neck before slowly bending back into a firm grip around your throat. 

“Don't, don't hold back this time, please.” 

When his eyes opened you got that same shock of fear you felt the first time, but unlike the first time there was no uncertainty. 

You whimpered when you felt his hold on your neck loosen. “I can take it.”

He took his bottom lip between his teeth, his jaw flexing as he bit down. Putting on a good show, pretending he had to think about it. Pretending he was cautious. He knew what he would look like if he dove right in without hesitation. He'd look like the selfish, self indulgent man he truly was when it came to sex. 

He raised his eyes to yours, his lips splitting into a grin. You mirrored his expression, your heart hammering against your chest, grinning as he slid on top of you and onto the bed. 

“Tell me to stop an’ I will.” He reminded. 

“Not gonna happen.”

He chuckled, low and deep in his chest. His lips found their place back on your neck, and his hips between your thighs. 

You groaned the second you felt his dick through his jeans pressed up against you. The sensation was rough, almost painful the way he ground against your thin panties. 

The feeling of your nipples being pinched had you squeaking in surprise, your back arching. There'd been no warm up, just an immediate burning pinch.

Then a twist. 

“Oh, god!” You groaned deeply, your eyes clenching shut. The pain radiated much further than just your nipples, shooting down your breast tissue, almost all the way over your entire chest. 

“Sounds so good.” He muttered, planting his feverish lips against the cheeks of your scrunched up face. “Such pretty noises.” 

You put on a brave face, keeping your mouth tightly shut as he tested your limits, switching between pinching and twisting your sore buds. 

He was impressed. You whined and groaned, but you never told him to stop. He released them and you sucked in a breath, your back relaxing back into the mattress. 

“You have no fuckin’ clue,” Rick spoke, kissing down your chest. “How sexy you are. How sexy that was.” 

You wrapped your fingers in his curls as he kissed your sides, clenching his hair in your fists when he opened his mouth and gave a hard bite on your waist right below your ribs. 

“Fuck!” You gasped. Your legs instinctively bent at the knees, clenching around his torso under his armpits. 

“Too much?” He hummed, releasing you from his teeth. He rubbed a finger along the bite mark and you winced, but shook your head. 

Rick couldn't help but chuckle at the look on your poor pretty face. “Don't feel like you've got to impress me, sweetheart.” 

“No.” You shook your head again, quicker this time. “Not that.”

“Good.” He went back to working you over, planting kisses down to your thighs. 

Your body was beginning to relax at the gentle touches of his lips on you. But true to his nature, Rick ripped that feeling away, sending electricity through your heart and heat through your core when he sunk his teeth into the inside of your upper thigh. 

Right below your panties he bit, over and over, sometimes just a nip, then a rough, teeth-gritting bite on the other thigh. 

You were unbelievably wet. Your hole burned, desperate to have something inside it, anything.

His fingers grabbed your panties and tugged them down, and you got exactly what you'd prayed for. 

The middle finger, his longest, slipped into you and pulled out a moan from your lips. He watched your face as he curled it, each curl and drag making you come more and more undone. 

He'd be content to finger you for hours. Watching the glint of red on your ears when you'd turn your head, or the glimmer of gold under your collarbone when you'd arch your back. He almost came when he saw your fingers wrap around the golden pendant.

You were having the time of your life, squirming on your bed as he knelt between your knees and made you come. 

“Oh, fuck, Rick!” You gasped, bending your knees again, wanting to wrap your legs around something, a waist, a head, but they were empty and you just slammed your knees together when the cord in your belly snapped. 

“Shit.” Rick cursed, watching your face as you came. The faces you made, it made his chest tighten and the smallest, faintest, tiniest lump form in his throat. You were too beautiful. Too perfect, covered in his trophies, his trophy. All his work in the last year perfectly laid on your naked body. 

You moaned behind closed lips, your eyes finally opening as your orgasm died down.

Your stomach flipped at the sight of Rick sitting there, staring at you. His eyes flicked up to yours when he saw them open. His shoulders rose and fell heavily, his nostrils ever so slightly flared. 

“Rick?” You breathed his name, blinking away the fog in your eyes. 

The image of him spreading your knees with his hands, those beautiful big hands, and crawling up your body set your core on fire again. You felt more wetness leaking out of you as he pushed his hips back between yours, forcing a soft moan from your throat. 

He fumbled with his belt, leaving it through the loops, knowing you liked the clinking sound it made when he fucked you. 

Your heart leapt into your throat when you saw the first flash of his dick. It looked much darker in the dim lighting of your room and the sight of his thick pubes made your stomach flip again. It was so masculine, so primal, it drove you insane. 

“C'mere.” Rick huffed before kissing you again, tearing your gaze away from his dick. 

You hummed into his lips, wrapping your fingers back in his cold hair. You'd succeed in making his slicked back hair messy, and thick curls fell down his forehead and tickled yours. 

He smelt so good, his shampoo and his cologne. His breath as well, which led you to believe he'd brushed his teeth when he used your bathroom. With your toothbrush. 

Even though he was sliding the tip of his dick around your slippery pussy, the thought of him using your toothbrush made you blush. 

“Mmm, hah-” He grunted as he pushed into you, spewing out a string of curses as your walls squeezed him the way he'd squeezed your neck. 

You felt a bit of pride at his reaction, and bit back a smile when he pressed his forehead against your shoulder to steady himself.

The feeling of his heavy cock sitting unmoving inside you finally sets your mind into a blank state. You breathed through your lips, slow and deep, trying to control your racing heart. The anticipation was killing you. 

“Did you mean it?” He spoke, the sound of his low voice startling you. 

When you didn't immediately answer he rolled his hips, and you moaned. 

“When you said you can take it?” He continued, his hands moving from their place on your hips up your sides. 

“Yes.” You answered with an eager nod. 

He breathed out, and grinned, looking down at you with a sleazy and cocky expression. “Should've fucked you a long time ago.”

Before you could agree he pulled out an inch, and slowly pushed back in. You whimpered and tilted your hips upwards, already becoming greedy and impatient. 

He teased you like that for a while, barely pulling out, slowly pushing back in, and it soon had you a whiny mess.

“Harder.” You whined, your fingers curling repeatedly around a lock of his hair. 

“Yeah?” He hummed with a smile, pulling back out a little further, but still pushing back in just as slow. He pulled back out and caught you off guard by slamming back into you, making you see stars and birds. 

“You like that? Huh?” He drawled, pulling back out even further, fucking his dick into you with another brutal thrust. "This what you want?"

You didn't respond with words, only nodding and moaning. 

The quick and rough snatch of your chin in his fingers had you sobering up real quick. He forced you to look at him, his pupils blown, his open lips in a breathy smile. “Asked you a question.”

“Yes. I love it. I love it Rick.” You babbled, nodding faster. “Please don't stop.”

He dug his thumbnail into your chin, holding your face in place as he thrusted into you. His index finger slipped between your lips and forced your mouth open. Before you could react he was spitting on your tongue, and using his finger to slide down the back of it. 

You gagged, a short and easy gag that wasn't uncomfortable. You could feel his dick twitch inside you at the sight and sound of you gagging on his finger. 

He fucked you normally for a minute, his pace rough and deep, but still not fast enough for your liking. 

“Sit up.” He grunted. You don't know why he even told you to because he was already moving you for him, grabbing you by your hips and moving until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the floor and you in his lap. 

The new angle had his dick much deeper. If he was only a few millimeters longer it would've been unbearable, but the pain was sharp and you loved it. 

“So pretty. Pretty girl.” He cooed, squeezing the flesh of your hips as he rolled his hips up against you. 

The image of him still fully dressed and you completely naked on his lap brought you closer to orgasm. As much as you loved it he was getting hot, and he had to take his jacket off and throw it behind you. 

The white T-shirt that was a little too small was just as hot. 

You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt so you wouldn't fall backwards and moved on him, lazily raising your hips in a way that complimented his own movements. 

Each time you moved back down he'd move up, forcing himself as deep as possible, deep bolts of pleasure shooting through your core each time you sank back down. 

Oh, finally, finally.

He picked up the pace. 

He gripped your hips and started moving you on his own, bouncing you up and down on his length. 

“Oh, god.” You blurted, tightening your grip on the front of his shirt. His rough mound of pubes dragged against your clit each time he tugged you down against him, and you were close. 

“Gonna -”

He quickly cut you off. “Gonna cum for me?” He breathed, and one hand left your hip. He dropped you down on his dick and started using the strength in his thighs and core to fuck up into you. 

You didn't have time to wonder where his hands went before his left one was in your hair, and his right was around your throat. 

He squeezed, much harder than before. Your face immediately felt tight and hot, and you had to fully open your mouth to gasp down air. Thankfully he was only cutting off blood flow, and you could still breathe. 

Not that it mattered much, because he quickly took your breath away with a slap to your face. 

You came hard and with a sharp cry, your thighs squeezing his waist as your hips jerked in his lap.

“That's right.” Rick hissed, and wrapped your hair around his fist and yanked. 

You didn't think it was impossible to reach a second high in the same orgasm, but you did. Your head spun as your body trembled against him. You couldn't process much of what happened, your mind was too fuzzy, your body buzzing to the point of shivering, twitching, and he slapped you again. 

You cried out, your eyes snapping open to find his face. 

He looked so beautiful. Face red in the dim lighting, that sexy stubble, his eyes dark with dilation. He looked just as ruined as you, but he was holding it together far better. 

“S’it okay?” He slurred, his movements slowing as he took a moment to rub your red cheek.

You never in your entire fucking life thought you'd enjoy being slapped on the face. And certainly not by a man. But you didn't just enjoy it, you loved it, you loved the feeling of Rick hurting you and getting turned on by it. You loved his wide hand making your cheek burn. 

“Stings a little.” You admitted, your voice raw from your vocal orgasm. “But, I liked it.”

“It stings?” He grinned lazily, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “Was being gentle.”

You groaned, jerking your hips forward and earning a low grunt from Rick. 

“Told you not to be gentle.” 

“You're right.” He leaned in and kissed you, deep and firm. He pulled back, but not before catching your bottom lip in his teeth and pulling you back with him. 

He rolled you over on your stomach and pushed back into you, taking a moment to kiss your shoulders and neck before getting back to screwing your brains out. 

You pushed your ass into him, eager to feel him as deep as you had when you were in his lap. It worked, the tip of his dick slipped past the curve of your walls and rubbed against the soft spot inside you. 

You should've pissed before sex, but it was too late for that now. You'd have to wait. Besides, the feeling was a guilty pleasure, something you'd feel embarrassed to admit, feeling him fuck into you when you needed to pee made each thrust feel ten times more intense. 

He wrapped your hair around his fist again, his movements extremely deliberate and precise, the same precision as braiding your hair. 

Rick used the grip on your hair to yank your head to the side. You let out a little yelp, and his other hand slid under you, finding your throat again. 

“How's it feel?” he lowered himself down to your ear. He held your head in place with your hair, his grip tightening and pulling every so often, bringing sharp tingles down your scalp and neck. 

“Having my hand around your throat.” He breathed. He kissed around the back of your neck, the tips of your shoulders, his hips slamming down against your upturned ass. 

“Feels so good.” You rasped, pushing yourself back into him to prove your point. You shoved your pillow to the side so your nose wasn't covered anymore, enjoying the feeling of air on the side of your hot face. 

“Is that right?” His teeth dug into the skin above your shoulder blades. "Love these hands?"

You couldn't answer. He'd tightened his grip around your throat and it wasn't just blood cut off from your brain anymore. 

“You know what I've done with these hands?” He groaned after you clenched down around him at his words. The feeling you got and the reaction you gave to his words was morally reprehensible. It was fucking disgusting. 

“Know how many?”

You should've felt ashamed that you came after that. But you didn't. Not at that moment, at least. Your walls squeezed around him and you tried to moan, but it was strangled out of you. 

It felt like seeing God, or something holy and ethereal. Your vision was flashes of white and black, flickering like strobe lights, your head felt like it was about to explode with pressure. Your eyes burned, but your pussy felt amazing. 

All you could do was grip onto the sheets beside your head and enjoy it, and pray you didn't pass out and miss the best post-orgasm glow of your life. 

Rick let out this strangled groan behind your head, his brutal bulldozing of your spasming cunt growing sloppy. He squeezed your throat harder as he came into you, fucking each drop back up inside you as he fell down from his high. He drew out every single wave of pleasure, even to the point of it becoming uncomfortable for him, his dick burning and tingling with overstimulation. 

His hand left your throat, and your head throbbed as the blood and oxygen rushed back up into it. You groaned, soft and pained, pressing your forehead into the mattress in an attempt to minimize the pain.

You couldn't really focus on it, thankfully, because the feeling of his dick dragging down and out of your trembling walls was too jarring. 

“Fuck.” You grunted, your waist moving to the side to get his dick away from where he had it sitting against your pussy. 

If you thought he was sweet after the first time, then he’s a bonafide angel this time. 

He turned you over and sat you up, brushing your damp hair away from your sweaty face. 

“Hey.” His palms smoothed down the sides of your head, fixing your wild hair. “You okay?”

“Mhmm.” You managed a very weak and crooked grin. 

He smiled in relief, and swiped his tongue under your nose, wiping away the small drop of blood that peeked out. 

After cleaning you up and helping you to the bathroom he slipped your favorite night dress over your head, not bothering with underwear. 

The post orgasm clarity was trying its damndest to make you feel like an awful piece of shit. Knowing what Rick had done to people who didn't deserve it. It was something you could never be okay with, but his lips kissing over every bite and bruise he'd given you did a good job taking your mind off it. 

“Beautiful.” He whispered against the bite marks on your neck and chest, planting another kiss on the next mark. “Look at you.” 

You knew you probably looked like you'd just crawled out of a car wreck. Your hair was still messy even though he'd tried to fix it, and your neck was a whole new problem. Bruises from his teeth and hands. Blood blisters from where he'd bitten down way too hard in some spots. Even though no vessels had burst in your eyes they were still red, and that wouldn't go away overnight. There were more turtlenecks in your future.

It was like art to Rick. You looked like art. He kissed your rings. His hands holding yours felt like they belonged to a completely different person, so gentle and light, as if you'd suddenly turned into glass and the slightest pressure would break you. 

He kissed your throat, the bottom of your chin, and your swollen lips. There was the faintest twinge of purple on your bottom lip, a line fitting the exact measurement of his top left incisor. 

“First time I've ever been fucked like that.” 

Rick chuckled, raising his head from your lips to look down at your blissed out face. 

“First time I've fucked like that.” He kissed your cheek before finally laying down beside you. 

It surprised you, even though it shouldn't have. You were the first person he'd fucked since Lori, and she seemed like the type to blanch over simple restraints like fuzzy handcuffs, no disrespect intended. 

“Is that what you think about?” You whispered, feeling your already burning cheeks get hotter. “When you're… Solo…” 

He let out a gruff chuckle. “Yeah.” He laid out his arm for you to move into him, and you did. You pressed against his side and rested your head on his chest, inhaling the scent of his deep sweat and the remnants of his cologne. 

“Is that all?” You asked, trying to sound confident. “Or, was there more?”

“More I wanted to try?” He humored you. You knew he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but the urge to know more was gnawing at you. When you nodded, he tilted his head to look up at the ceiling, which was now black from the lights being turned off. 

“Yeah. There's more.” He finally answered. 

You forced yourself to stop asking questions. You nodded against his chest and pressed yourself tighter against his side, nuzzling your head in an attempt to get more comfortable. 

“Can talk about it later, if you want.”

You smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @adribarbie @my1fx @jinx-nanami

this is so good it’s not even funny i love him i want to scream

IM FUCKING SCREAMING???

The way you sent this with no words just pictures no explanation 😭 when did you send this I'm crying????

We all love and remember the Matchmaker fanfic but hear me out! Imagine like a second part that happens at CDC.

I'm actually writing that now!! I think someone mentioned it in the notes, and I thought it would be one of the only times you could fuck showered Daryl on a clean bed

Takin this killer!Rick x reader a lil too seriously got this as my lockscreen for inspiration

Picture is from altafrodisiac on Twitter