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happy74827 · 28 days

Text

The Lesson of Reality

[Rick Grimes and Child!Reader]

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

WC: 3080

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

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

『••✎••』

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rick raised his hands, but his body was tense.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, his hands remained steady.

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

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

There was no other option.

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

"What the-?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he didn't. He had other plans.

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

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

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

"Grab his gun and come over here."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You hurt? Bleeding? Anything broken?"

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

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

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

"Who are you?"

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

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

"Fuck y—”

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

"Try again. Who are you?"

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

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

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

"Passing through to where?"

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

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

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

"N-no, I-"

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

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

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

"How many are there?"

"T-Ten. Maybe eleven."

"Are they armed?"

"J-Just with knives and stuff."

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

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

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

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

"I can’t take that chance.”

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

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

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

Rick sighed, pausing in his movements.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rick squeezed your shoulder, and his voice was gentle.

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

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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Oke oke you are responsible for that request 😫💗

Please please please a fic where Rick is fingering reader in a car while others are asleep 👉🏼👈🏼💗 something like reader biting his neck to keep quiet and grinding against his hand....😫

That man has hands straight out of heaven 🥴💗

Love you 💗💗💗

hi baby! I love you, and I hope you like this! I'm sorry it's so short!

summary - rick fingers you in the car while your friends sleep in the back.

warning - smut, fingering, voyeurism, semi-public, swearing, degrading.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“O–oh, fuck….” You whimper, biting into your fist as Rick’s fingers pick up the pace, thrusting and curling inside you. Your legs spread as your dress is hiked up, riding his hand as you try to stay quiet, not wanting to wake those sleeping in the backseat. “R–Rick…” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he curls his thick fingers into your sweet spot.

Rick presses his thumb into your puffy clit, rubbing and rolling it as he glances over before looking back at the road. “Better be quiet, slut. Don’t want the others to wake to you being a whore, do ya?” His pants tighten, a prominent bulge straining against the zipper as your sweet sounds send shocks down to his cock. “Do ya know how much of a whore you are, getting off while our friends sleep in the back.” He growls, thrusting his fingers faster into you, looking over as your back arches off the seat. “C’here.” You whimper, looking at him with big, tear-filled eyes, and you slowly move closer to him, latching onto the older man. “Bite on my neck, darlin’, don’t be shy.” You whine quietly, placing soft, breathless kisses along his neck, licking the vein that pulses before you latch onto him, crying into his flesh as he curls his fingers into your sweet spot.

Stars begin to cloud your vision, and your walls pulsate around his thick digits. Your cries go straight to his cock, and the way you squeeze his fingers nearly distracts Rick from the road in front of him. “Let go, darlin’. Cum on my fingers like the whore you are.” He growls, and you become so desperate to cum, that you begin to grind down onto his hand as he continues to curl his fingers up into your sweet spot until your eyes roll into the back of your head and your juices coat his digits. “Good girl.” He slowly pulls his fingers out of your cunt, bringing the glistening digits to his mouth and sucking your arousal off. You watch with wide eyes, feeling your core pulse. “Taste damn good, sweetheart.”

You stiffen as you hear a groan from the backseat, followed by Daryl’s raspy voice. “Ya guys done?! I’m tryna get some sleep back here.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#catt leyaask #imyourbratzdollasks #imyourbratzdollwork #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes fan fic #rick grimes fanfic #rick grimes fic #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes imagines #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes one shot #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes angst #rick grimes au #rick grimes x female reader

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stuckinthesun · 11 months

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Rick Grimes x Reader // 6x11 angst

Warnings: heavy angst, cheating, mention of a panic attack

Don’t actually yell at me if you get upset I warned you

You were on wall duty the night Rick and Daryl brought back some guy they called ‘Jesus’. You had signaled for the gate to be opened and watched as they drove the car in, parking it.

Rick climbed out of the drivers seat just as you finished descending down the ladder, and you quickly jogged up to him giving him a quick peck, “Hey, glad to see you’re back okay.”

“Yeah,” He sighed, clearly tired and frustrated. He gave you a half smile before helping Daryl lug the unconscious man away.

That was the last time you saw your long term boyfriend till very early the next morning. You were on your way home from finishing your shift to find many of your group rushing into your house, weapons drawn.

Alarmed, you instantly took off into a sprint, entering the house right after Maggie and try pushing your way up the stairs.

“Wait Y/N,” Abraham says as you try to move past him, he has his back to you, gun trained on something, and your heart sinks.

“Abe, move.” You easily duck under his arm, and when you stand up you’re instantly confused.

The man from last night is sitting on the stairs, holding a picture and looking extremely confused. Carl, Daryl, and Glenn all have their guns out and pointed at him, but look extremely pissed.

You notice movement behind Carl and that’s when you see it, that’s when you understand.

Rick, standing there, pants undone and struggling to get his shirt on, with Michonne standing behind him in almost the same state. In the doorway of your bedroom.

You just stand there, probably looking stupid, staring at the man you love very obviously come out of bed with another woman.

Rick stares right back at you, his eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, until eventually, “Y/N-“

“Daryl, move Jesus to the dining room.” You cut him off, not even thinking just acting. Just going on instinct, remembering that there is a crowd of your family here and that you can’t, you won’t, do this now.

Daryl does as you say without question, grabbing Jesus by the back of his coat and hauling him down the stairs. The rest slowly follow him, sparing glances at the three of you as they go.

Once everyone is out of the general vicinity Rick tries again, “Y/N-“

“No.” You say calmly, looking at the dust on your shoes. It’s more appealing than their guilt and shame, “I want my things out of there at the earliest convenience.”

You turn around and start walking down the stairs, but a hand grabbing your arm stops you, “W-wait, Y/N we can-“

“Don’t!” You yell, the barely held back tears finally forming, and you yank your arm back, “Don’t you touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”

You don’t really remember much after that, the panic attack that took over completely removing your memory.

But somehow, you ended up outside, curled up in Maggie’s arms, crying your heart out.

Men are assholes even in the apocalypse🙄

#rick twd #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #twd rick #rick grimes x you #rick grimes angst #twd x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd #rick grimes fanfiction

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lilgoblinbitch · 2 months

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saw your post about rick and daryl, do you think you could write a rick TOWL smut with him angry that you left your post and got yourself injured and he takes out his frustration on you? idk why just had that idea after the recent episode😫

Grimes' Dominion 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

a/n: ahhh omg yes i actually had time to think abt this for a few nights. i added a bit of plot to this because i love me some backstory & descriptions. but anyway i made this pretty lengthy so if u wanna skip to the smut part just look for the '💋'. here is your plotty smut! lmk your thoughts ₊˚⊹♡

warnings: smut 18+, PinV, unprotected sex, oral/face fucking (male receiving), slight bondage, fingering, ass slapping, hair pulling, orgasm denial, degradation (use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’), language, mentions of blood and injury, angsty angsty angst!, reader is a mother, overall Rick is very rough so you have been warned

It was training day at your post. You had recently graduated from consignee and signed up to become a CRM soldier. It took you six whole years to get to this point. While your agility and militia knowledge were already unprecedented, the CRM didn't fuck around when it came to producing the world's most unrivalled soldiers. It was serious business.

Nearly eight years ago, you trekked a long journey down from your small community in southern New Jersey. You lost everything: your husband, your friends, and the people you lived with and grew stronger with through the grisly and dilapidated post-apocalyptic world. Terrible people – which were apparently becoming more and more common – destroyed your community, leaving very few survivors. It was you and your newborn child who managed to escape safely; you weren't able to go back to see if others had made it out. For almost two years you were alone, and your only hope left was keeping your baby boy alive...

Fast forward two years after the traumatic fallout you managed to escape, you discovered, or rather you were found by, a giant military in Pennsylvania, called the CRM. A military that bordered and protected a whole city of people – 200,000 of them. Out of desperation and maternal instinct, you bargained with the militia in hopes to give your two-year-old son a stable future. The CRM agreed to place your son in a 'nurturing fostering service' within the safe confines of the protected city – known as the Civic Republic of Philadelphia – so long as you swore to abide by the military's code and regulations by becoming a consignee. Of course you agreed, because you were nonetheless terrified of what would happen to your baby boy if you didn't play it safe with this strong force. But for a while you lost it, you couldn't bear not seeing your child – they took him from you. You became defensive of your child, throwing yourself into dilemmas with whoever refused to listen to you. Except no one ever took notice of an angry and hurt mother because the CRM showed little mercy about their policies. And no matter how much force you put into finding hope about getting to your son, you'd always end up falling right back where you left off.

Soon enough you learned from acquiring an acquaintance that not only did the CRM take the only family you had left away from you, they were the ones responsible for destroying your home in the first place.

But now, six years later, you were predisposed to fight whoever and whatever got in your way in order to see your son again. You were a force to be reckoned with.

"No, you're doing it wrong. You gotta follow through, like this—" your sweaty hand maneuvered the heavy spear, sending it soaring through the air at high speed and finally piercing the bullseye of the target. You turned to the soldier beside you, who, to say the least, looked perplexed.

"What?" You huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of your face. "Ya give up? Need a break?"

"’Ey! Rogers, I'mma need ya to head back inside. We're gonna start sizing you all up for your new gear."

A brooding and strict man, Sergeant Major Rick Grimes, commanded the young man beside you. "Uh, yes sir," he saluted, then jogged toward the dome-shaped building.

Rick Grimes used to be a consignee like you were, and you even heard stories where he tried escaping at least four times. No one ever fled, or even attempted to, without failing. Escaping the hellhole was like trying to fit your right shoe on your left foot, it was entirely fruitless. But you heard all the stories about Rick, and how he got to become a leader. After the death of Lieutenant Colonel Donald Okafor, Rick was trained to replace his position by virtue of General Beale taking note of his loyalty to the military. Now, Rick was scaling further up the ranks. He was Sergeant Major, and in charge of the post you currently resided in.

You looked up to him, though, not because he was your leader, but because he understood you. He recognized how it felt to have your family ripped from your hands and not be able to do anything about it. You were able to bond with him. Most nights he would invite you to his apartment and the two of you'd spill your guts to one another over a glass or two of bourbon. That is how he got to know you, and see through your clouded demeanor that you kept in check. You were fierce and obstinate, because the place you were trapped in forced you to be that way, and truthfully Rick admired that about you. He was never able to relate with someone as well as he did with you.

Feedback echoed from Rick's receiver and he lifted it to his masked face, stating his position and whatnot. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to give you an order. "Well?"

He turned his attention to you, finally. "We need to talk." His one good hand snagged a hold of your arm and guided you toward a smaller brick-designed building, which you recognized to be the building that housed the high ranking officials like Rick himself.

"What do we need to talk about? And why is Rogers getting his gear but I'm not?" You struggled against his grip, a decision that ended with futility as his clutch tightened when you tried pulling away from him. You furrowed your brows and grunted in annoyance.

"Relax, sweetheart, you're not in trouble. Actually it's quite the opposite." Once again he faced you, stopping in his tracks as you both had reached the air-conditioned building. His grasp on your arm loosened and then reached for his matte black helmet detailed with red outlining. Your eyes darted across the room, taking in the essence of prestige and momentarily locking in on the various framed photos on the walls, which depicted a few recognizable CRM authoritative figures. One particular photo caught your attention, and you carefully examined it, discerning it to be Rick himself with a shiny black name plate decorating the bottom of the frame.

Your gaze finally diverted back to Rick, whose helmet popped off in a swift motion, freeing his slightly disheveled brown and gray curls, and his stern blue eyes – the spellbinding reflections to his enigmatic soul. And this man was undoubtedly a sight for sore eyes.

The silence was disrupted by the shuffling of Rick’s boots, his curt footsteps leading him across the room. He pulled out a chair from the corner and without any trouble picked it up with one hand and set it down across from a dark wooden desk. “Sit.” He motioned to the chair, and then found a seat in the larger, more cushioned chair adjacent to it. Without a peep you sauntered over to the wooden chair and sat, folding your hands on the desk in front of you.

“You gonna keep me on edge or are you gonna tell me why I’m here and not at training and getting my gear?”

His serious eyes bored into yours now, hinting that he wasn’t in the mood for your cynicism. “I brought you in here to tell you that you’re going to become Colonel under my order.”

You scoffed comically and dropped your hands to your sides, gripping the chair with force. “That’s ridiculous. Me – Colonel? Why?”

Rick’s focus never left your unserious face – one that was twisted with amusement. With a slight tilt of his head, he spoke, “Because you’re one of the best fighters and you’re fit to start leading, I know it. And I trust you, so does Major General Beale. We both expect your habitual commitment from now on.” While you were still preoccupied with processing this information, Rick reached into one of his sleeve pockets and pulled out a silver badge, decorated with ‘Col.’ followed by your full name. He slid it across the desk toward you and you scrutinized it before giving him a look of disapproval and sliding the badge back to him. You shook your head in defiance.

“No thanks.”

He frowned and once again his frigid stare taunted you, something you’d undoubtedly gotten used to very much over the past few years that you'd known him. He leaned forward and for a second you could feel the steam emitting from his nose as he exhaled, eyes scanning your face for any signs of possible sarcasm. You were dead serious now, though.

“This isn’t an offer you can refuse. It’s an order,” the sergeant commanded, grabbing the badge reiteratively and this time placing it firmly into your hand. “So take it, and don’t lose it.”

You remained perched in your spot, not stirring any muscle, just studying his face with the badge dancing across your fingertips. Rick was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Now do as I say, and meet me in that meeting room over there, in 10 minutes.”

You snarled and swiftly rose, shoving the badge into your zipper pocket. Without even giving Rick another look you booked it out the door full tilt.

All throughout meeting with Grimes and Command Sergeant Major Thorne and overlooking your shared brigade of soldiers, your mind couldn’t escape the worry you had about your son, and how you were going to escape and find him. Your mind raced as you tried to recollect what the map of your base looked like, so that you could pinpoint which weak spots there were around the perimeter. You recall a little while back which security took which shifts at each area of the southwest perimeter where your complex was, but it wasn’t all that simple since sometimes they’d switch shifts around. However, security officers periodically switched their attention to different areas at a time out along the walls, so you could use that as leverage to sneak your way around and cut a hole in one of the fences–

Nah. That would be too obvious, and dangerously stupid. You needed to really think this through – come up with a strategic plan. So that’s what you were prepared to do after your first night of training as Colonel.

Sweaty and disheveled, you entered your sleeping quarters and kicked the door shut, immediately peeling off your bulky armor and tossing your heavy combat boots across the floor. With a satisfactory sigh, you trotted over to the shower and flipped the handle all the way to the left – you needed a steamy shower to filter out all the stress your body had been loaded with that day. Not only that, the steam would help you think, and you needed your head clear if you were going to figure out how to leave successfully that night.

If you were going to escape – if. You needed to keep that thought in mind, because it sure as hell wasn’t going to be a piece of cake.

Frantically you shoved a handful of essentials into a black backpack – a lighter, duct tape, a pocket knife, flashlight, and a small glock you 'borrowed' from your trip with rick to the armory earlier. After zipping up the bag you threw on your combat boots and your gloves. You checked your watch for the time; 11:48 it read. The moon was scintillating in the sky and beaming with conviction. You took one last glimpse around the room to check if you had forgotten any extra tools or gadgets, and before you confirmed that you were ready to head out, you spotted something on the rusty gunmetal colored nightstand. Inquisitively you wandered over to the table and examined a small, white folded paper. You unfolded it and inside it read, in urgent script:

“Meet me at my place at 11:30 tonight. Need to talk again.

-R.G.”

Too late now. Not happening. Besides, you were sure it was another booty call because for one, on busy task days like tonight, Rick often had a knack for ‘letting off steam,’ which meant fucking your brains out. Sorry, Rick, but my child is more important to me than easing your sexual frustration. And two, it was already reaching midnight…why else would he want to “talk” to you so late at night? Rick was just too obvious.

Speaking of Rick…

The man who shared his bourbon with you for the first time two years ago. That very night he had spilled to you CRM’s legacy and the nightmares behind it. The two of you bonded over your mutual grievance toward the antagonizing militia. Rick spurred hope in you finally leaving and finding your son; if anyone could help you escape it was him. But he changed – his interest in leaving the CRM no longer seemed to exist. After all, he was already climbing his way up the military rank. He was gaining power and respect, and that seemed to be more crucial to him then getting back to his own children.

So, screw him. He had his chance to leave with you, and it already passed – because now you were tiptoeing out your apartment and being welcomed into the darkness of the night.

You were cautious of your surroundings, turning a few corners and eluding one or two officers. You noticed the southwest wall, which didn't look impossible to climb. You discovered a hefty pile of broken shipment container parts – bingo. And that's what you used to climb the wall. unfortunately your endeavor led to you stumbling and hitting both your knee and your arm against the metal object, then landing with your hands scraping against the unforgiving concrete. Fuck. What an idiot you were. Surely someone within about twenty feet of you heard you basically eat shit.

Gritting your teeth and whimpering from the twinge that shot through your knees and hands, you managed to put every fiber of your being to use and push yourself off the ground, only to end up on your ass with a humph. You winced as you peeked at your hands, using the flashlight from your bag to examine how badly cut they were. Blood leaked from multiple crevices in your palms, and you didn’t even bother paying much mind to your bruised knee or elbows because there was no time to dawdle. “Shit. You need to get up now!” You scolded yourself, but as you tried standing up completely, your knees buckled. Well, at least behind this building it was dark enough for no one to see you, unless they heard you already…

Your alert ears picked up the sound of shoes marching upon the solid ground, and you cursed to yourself; someone was coming, but there was nothing you could do because they had already heard you most likely. “Just play dead, or pretend you passed out!”

You heard your name being called out from somewhere behind you.

The pace of your heartbeat quickened drastically, causing your head to spin toward the voice. Well, shit. It was Rick Grimes himself. This time his helmet wasn’t on and he seemed to have abandoned his uniform. He was instead dressed in jeans and that black tee that always hugged his muscles so perfectly–

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice boomed in your ears as he knelt down to your level, and you shivered.

You wheezed and resumed your pursuit of getting your ass off the wretched ground, to which you failed. Rick noticed the cuts and bruises decorating your injured body and his face softened. He sighed, gathering your belongings, and then in one swift motion he lifted you up off your feet, holding you bridal-style. You bit your lip to stop the tears forming in your eyes; your plan backfired, you got caught, and now everything was out of your control. You felt so stupid and useless.

Rick shifted around with you in his arms, taking one last glance at your injured figure. “Oh, honey. Let’s get ya cleaned up now.”

He had carried you all the way to his room without any hindrances, and the whole time you honestly thought about kicking out of his tight grasp, nailing him where the sun doesn't shine, and booking it out of there. But the way his strong arms cradled you made you melt into him.

Rick lay you onto his large – well, larger than your own – neatly made bed and pulled your shoes and socks off. Before he could reach your pant zipper to pull them down and examine your knee, you slapped his hand away, scowling at him.

“I can do it,” you promised, although of course your trembling hands reaching for the zipper illustrated a paradoxical story. Not to mention, the stained blood and soreness reminded you that you needed to ease up on any further use of them. It felt like carpal tunnel. Damn, that concrete did some damage to you. Your exasperated grunts caught Rick’s attention and he ignored your misleading comment, zipping your pants down and peeling them off himself. The look you gave him could have been detected as either annoyed or demoralized. Either way, your body was weary and your mind still raced with unrelenting thoughts.

Rick brought back a wet cloth and a first aid kit he kept under his sink. Gingerly, he brushed the cloth over your battered hands and then bandaged them up. You let out a few pained huffs while he went to work on your scraped hands and busted knee with his doctor abilities. When finished, his eyes scanned your body, being certain he didn’t miss any other wounds or minor cuts. You, however, were busy ogling him; his beautifully sculpted figure that was outlined by the black t-shirt he wore, and the scruff that layered his defined jaw, and the way his pink lips pursed as his rough hand prodded your exposed flesh – it sent you into a trance.

He adjusted his gaze back to your face, and you snapped out of your trance promptly, painting that stern cast back on your expressive face. You recalled why you were irritated with him in the first place – he prevented you from escaping.

“Y’alright now? Gonna tell me why you were scurrying around past midnight with this bag on you?”

Your hard stare didn’t falter. He tsked at you and grabbed the backpack off the ground, unzipping it, and dumping its contents onto the bed. When he recognized the gun to be one from the armory, it was his turn to scowl at you.

“You better start talking before I get angry, sweetheart.” His body flexed as he folded his arms across his chest, eyes cornering you and making you feel small.

“I was–,” you cleared your throat and sat up with your hands on your bare thighs, “I was going to escape, Rick. I… I need to see him…”

Rick lowered his head to the floor in disappointment, rubbing the bridge of his nose while his other arm rested on his hip. He paced the room. “You knew this was going to happen. We even planned it together, for fuck’s sake!” You pleaded with him, emotion spilling from your lips. You stared at his back, watching the way his muscles tensed. “I have a child I haven’t seen in years and I–”

“Yeah, so do I!” He interrupted, “But that life is over, there is no more escape plan pipe dream. Don’t you get it?!” His pacing ceased, and he waited for your focus to meet him. When it did, he inched toward you daringly, almost wanting you to test his patience. “I got you that ranking because I trusted you and expected you to be cooperative with me in this mission. I was planning on trying to convince Beale to let you visit your boy but that won’t be for a while. I need your trust in this,” Rick’s footsteps approached the bed, his towering figure intimidating you. “Do you understand? Look at me—” his rough hand pinched the sides of your chin to tilt your head up at him.

Your lips cracked open to speak but truthfully nothing could be said in that moment. The tension in the air was heavy and laced with despondency. You choked trying to enunciate words as you felt your shoulders drop, and your heart chugging on. Soon you gathered yourself from breaking down in front of him, masking the persistent commotion going on inside the walls of your skull, and the unabated sense of dread pouring over your body. You nodded your head in compliance and Rick released your chin.

This was a confirmation that Rick was never going to let you get away. And if he did end up finding a way for you to see your boy, living under an unlawful and controlling military organization was not something you stood for. With or without Rick, you needed to escape with your son, using any proper chance that swung your way. But if it was going to be without Rick, you needed to be secretive.

You batted your eyes at him, aiming to give him a reason to believe that you were officially yielding to him. The way you looked under him, all battered and desperate, made a spark ignite in his brain. You belonged in this position – underneath him, following his lead, and obeying his orders. He was going to need to show you how insistent he really was.

Your attention remained undivided. Rick stepped backwards a foot and took in the sight of you – your whole body and the way your thighs begged to be kissed and touched.

“I’m assuming you saw the note I left you, right?” His tone dripping with vehemence and his southern drawl rasping, relaying a yearning to your eager core, which you attempted to ease by clenching your thighs. He certainly did not miss that.

“So you were planning on not only ignoring my note, but being reckless and trying to leave this post and then, what? Risk getting caught and dying and never getting to see your son ever? You need to get your head on right, and I’m telling you this from experience, because it’s never going to work out the way you want it to, no matter how perfectly you think your plan will go.” You gulped and studied your hands, which were thankfully stinging much less. You fiddled with the bandage, until Rick demanded your attention with his authoritative tone.

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you to cooperate with me. Keep that in mind,” he warned. Your front teeth bit into your pouty bottom lip as you struggled to make yourself look uncritical of his “plan.” Rick’s eyes targeted your every move as you, this time successfully, propped yourself up and off the bed, bending down to grab your pants which were sprawled out next to your feet.

💋

“What were you gonna talk to me about, y’know….if I ended up showing up earlier?” You flipped the pant legs so that they were no longer inside out.

“I was gonna do this—” Your heart quickened as he neared you rapidly, his arms finding themselves exploring your body and causing goosebumps to multiply across your vulnerable skin. He dexterously greeted his lips to yours, catching you by surprise. The man was quick with it.

You melted into the kiss while his hands continued to trace your curves, eliciting longing whimpers from your throat. You craved his touch.

Breaking away from the kiss, the Sergeant gave you no time to protest, spinning you around so that your back was facing him. Taking your jaw prisoner in the tight clutch of his hand, his hot breath fanned against your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck come alive. “Originally I was going to fuck you gently, make you relax from your big day—” His hand slid to the middle of your back and he forcefully bent you over on the bed, scoring a small grunt from you. He took your pulled back hair into his hand and with a tantalizing tug of it, he pushed his clothed hips against your bare ass. “But now I’m not gonna be so easy on you, because you decided to go and put yourself in danger. Well, I’m gonna have to punish you instead of reporting you, hm? For your own sake…”

Your heat practically leaked through your panties and down the inner part of your thighs. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you loved when he was rough with you. It stirred you up with the perfect concoction of salaciousness and angst. Still, your alacrity temporarily repressed your aroused state and you barked back at him, “All I want is to see my son…you have no goddamn right to take that from me, Rick,” you cried, with your trembling hands supporting your upper body as he gripped your hips.

Rick delivered a firm slap to your ass cheek, then promptly straightened you up and turned you around to meet his sifting stare. You gulped, feeling submissive under his touch. You watched the way he contorted his face in vexation and you abruptly felt overpowered by him.

“In case you’ve forgotten you are under my command, and if you disobey me I have every right to correct you where I see fit,” he eyed your pout, huffing, “and I fucking told you already – you have to be patient, it’s gonna take a while.”

The hope you had was dwindling slowly, even though you really wanted to trust him. It almost felt like putting your full trust in him was equivalent to playing with fire. You couldn’t tell the difference between the two anymore. But ultimately Rick was right, you were under his command and the very least you could do at this moment was take his word.

His leer intensified. “Get on your knees.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the command jolt through your body with a cogent nudge. You conformed to his request and scrunched your face in slight discomfort from your bruised knee making contact with the floor, but it was still tolerable. With urgency he unbuckled his belt and wasted no time in freeing his thick, throbbing length. The sight of his cock was not something foreign, as you’d slept with him many times; but the way he was so much more ambitious in getting his cock inside your mouth and feeling you gag around him, made you squirm.

The restless man bucked his hips forward, enjoying the way your soft pouty lips hugged his shaft so magnificently. You moaned softly, the vibration inciting a groan from Rick as he grabbed at your hair. “Gotta do more than tha’. I know you know how to be a good slut f’me.”

You took his whole length in your throat, feeling spit drip down your chin as you choked. You started to bob your head back and forth, becoming accustomed to the size of his dick and how it collided with the back of your throat incessantly. He took it upon himself to grasp your head and guide you up and down as his hips pushed against your needy mouth. Your tongue traced the veins that protruded across his length, as your head quickened its pace. His grunts echoed in your ears and you prepared for his sweet release when you apperceived the twitch of his cock against your tongue.

“Fuck, yes…good slut,” Rick sung out as he thrusted thrice more, shooting his thick warm seed down your throat and riding out the remainder of his orgasm. He pulled out and stared intently at your lips licking up the remnants of his juices while panting. His hand patted your head in approval. “You think you deserve to cum tonight?” He taunted, his hold on your hair taut. You didn’t respond, but instead observed the way his muscles flexed when he lifted his shirt off his back, and how he flattened his hair back with the palm of his hand. You were getting wetter by the second, shifting your thighs in anticipation.

You stood up, tracing your hand over his bicep and fluttering your lashes at him enticingly. He smirked, recognizing that look to be your calling for him to fuck your brains out. Your hands reached down to lift your own shirt off, but he swatted them away in protest, throwing the shirt across the room hastily. All you desired was for him to make love to you, to comfort you and promise you that everything was going to work out, and frankly your sore muscles from training could use as much appreciation as they could obtain. But love-making wasn’t on the agenda for tonight.

Rick flopped you onto the bed, and effortlessly your panties were torn off and thrown next to your shirt. He kneaded your tits with his hand then bent over top of you to hungrily kiss your lips. Your fidgety hands stretched up to tussle through his hair but he broke from the kiss to pin both your hands above your head, rousing a dissatisfied whimper from you. The carnal man bent down diligently to grab his belt and release your hands for a moment, before grabbing your wrists and securing the belt around them. Bondage wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar to you but you had never expected Rick to ever want to partake in it with you. Nonetheless, your core ached further for his touch. His hand went back to pinching your sensitive nipples, while keeping his ferocious eyes locked onto yours, and lowering his head down to your throbbing heat. The lewd mewls escaping your parted lips sent Rick into a frenzy. You bucked your hips up in an attempt to get him to do something, to give your desperate parts the treatment you longed for, except he just remained concentrated on the way you jerked and crumbled beneath him – he wasn’t even touching you anymore, and yet he had you folding already. How pathetic you looked.

“Rick, please do something!” Your pleas left him unphased. The only thought in his mind at that moment was how rough he was eventually going to fuck you.

Finally, his finger swiped up your soaking folds and came into contact with your swollen clit, giving it a soft pinch, stimulating a ribald whimper from you and inducing your back to arch off the bed. “What d’you want, sweetheart?” His husky tone intimidated you.

“Need you, please. ‘M lonely,” You sniffed, overworked from all the teasing. He cooed in a mocking manner, and with two fingers he plunged into you, sending you into the clouds.

“This sweet pussy needs attention, dun’it?” He curled his fingers upward, activating that sweet spot inside your squelching sex. With his thumb he circled around your sensitive bud, accelerating the speed of his thick fingers inside your tight, wet hole. Bliss clouded over you, and your head lulled to the side.

Rick hissed, dissenting your lack of eye contact. He yanked his fingers out all the way, giving a slight tap to your voracious cunt. “Nuh-uh, eyes on me.” The glazed-over look you gave him was enough for him to give in and slide his digits back into your heat, this time being merciless by the way he finger fucked you with racking momentum.

Your walls clenched rhythmically around his fingers, legs syncing with the rhythm of your swirling hips. Rick sensed your orgasm approaching – he ascertained that you didn't get to reach its peak by ceasing his thumb's labor and plucking his drenched digits out of your weeping center. Your sensual clamors didn't go unnoticed; instead he hushed you, and bringing his mouth near your ear he rasped, "I decided that you don't get to cum yet. Not till I feel like it."

Rick really loved tossing you around, especially tonight. He arose, untying the belt around your wrists – almost as if he was showing mercy, but that thought was surpassed as he effortlessly flipped you around so your bandaged hands were gripping desperately onto the sheets, as if that'd prevent you from losing your grip on reality from what was about to go down.

Your begging hole cried for his further attention, causing you to become more agitated by the second. That is, until you felt his hard cock slap against your ass cheek, and his hips striking the back of your shaking thighs. The grumpy commander pressed his leather-sling gloved fist slightly against your upper neck, just enough pressure to ensure you stayed where he wanted you. You didn't plan on leaving, though – not until he fucked you to your heart's content.

He could take a picture right now, the way your ass pushed against his solid member so hysterically, as if your pussy lived to be stuffed by his cock. In that moment, it did. Rick grabbed his cock and lined it up with your welcoming entrance, collecting the condensation on his tip.

"God, just fuck me–"

One rigid thrust was all it took for you to fully engulf him. Your eyes rolled to the ceiling, stars eclipsing your vision while his thrust followed another one, this time much deeper. Your whines bounced off the pale room's walls, alerting Rick, who hushed you with a growl, "Shutch'er mouth, the whole building's gonna hear ya." A third thrust ensued, with the sound of his pelvic bone smacking against your backside and the echoing of your sodden cunt being governed by his greedy shaft. The wet squishy insides of your walls hugged Rick so magnetically, he almost gave in right there.

His pace picked up with each ram of his hips, and his assault to your clit. Your grip on the sheets tightened, bandages likely slipping off but that wasn't a concern. Shy whimpers were trapped inside your mouth as you gave it your all at keeping your lewd blubbers and cusses at bay. Your soft, muffled cries continued as he pounded into you strenuously and tirelessly.

"You're not gonna try to leave again, not ever." The thumping of his hips on your ass and him fucking you into the mattress was all too much for your brain. "I won't fucking let you."

You felt fuzzy. The dauntless rebel attitude you once had vanished, and now your were a blubbering hot mess under a relentless leader. His bulging biceps flexed as his leather arm continued pushing on your neck, the other hand groping your hip and then going back to flicking your clit as his cock rutted into your core. He fit you like a puzzle piece.

Your walls were pulsating and you sensed your climax approaching quickly. "Oh, fuck, Rick!"

"Don't you even think about it. So help me god, if you do..."

Rick's demands only filled you closer to the brim with pleasure, and you weren't assured how much longer you could hold it. His thrusts became sloppier and sloppier, indicating that he was probably close too.

"Mmmph–" You focused on grasping desperately at the sheets again, trying to fixate on the way the soft fabric felt against your hands and your face which was pushed into the bed.

Rick groaned out, whispering filthy affirmations as his pounding became more jagged and his grunts more urgent. "Wanna fill ya up, but you don'need another baby, not yet."

One last press against your clit and the band finally snapped, your juices releasing all over his cock, and his orgasm causing him to grasp your hips roughly as he used your dripping hole to help him ride out his own orgasm. He pulled out, releasing onto your back with a few strokes of his slippery member.

The bottom half of your body gave in finally, collapsing and being suffocated by the plush mattress. Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open. He truly fucked the energy out of you.

"You gonna try that shit again with me?"

With half-lidded eyes you simpered and muttered, "Not without you."

126 notes · View notes

bloatedandalone04 · 5 days

Text

The Lucky Ones - Part 2

➪the one where you and rick reunite after the events at the prison.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of digging around in the undead, guns, takes place in season 5

Word Count: 3k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Judith was crying again, and no matter what Tyreese did, she didn’t seem to want to stop. “C’mon, baby girl,” he huffed, bouncing her in his arms.

You look over from your spot on a fallen tree, your fingers tangled in Lizzie’s messy hair. It was clear that Tyreese was having a hard time calming the baby down, and while it was a bit amusing, being quiet right now was a priority. “Hey,” you call out to him. “Want me to take her?”

“Please,”

You laugh quietly and get up, squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder before making your way over to Tyreese. “Come here, sweet girl,” you coo when you take Judith from him. “Shh, you’re okay. You’re alright.”

Tyreese huffed again as he moved to sit next to the small fire you had started, confused at how you managed to get Judith to stop crying within just a few seconds. “I don’t know how you do it,” he muttered, poking the fire with a stick. “You had kids before all this?”

“No,” you answer, brushing Judith’s hair away from her forehead before taking the bottle from Mika. “I was a nurse. Spent a year looking after my mom before everything went to hell. She was like a kid in a way. I used to rely on her, then suddenly she relied on me. I had to feed her, bathe her, and dress her. Never thought that would’ve prepared me for something like this.”

Tyreese grunted, setting the stick aside and looking over at you. “You’re a natural,”

You smile at that, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You’d been one of the many people that have been taking care of Judith since she was born, but being one of the three to do it now was something else entirely.

When the Governor tried taking control of the prison and caused what could only be described as a riot, you were left behind with Tyreese, Mika and Lizzie. The older sister actually ended up saving both you and Tyreese when you were backed into a corner, and when you tried to convince them to go find Rick, you were outvoted. You were outvoted by a couple of fucking kids.

So you fled with them into the trees and had been walking through the forests ever since. You would give anything to be able to be with him right now, but instead you were left looking after his kid. You didn’t mind, but you just wished you knew whether he was okay and alive or not.

Carol took your spot on the tree and began braiding Lizzie’s hair as you hummed softly to Judith. She was beginning to fall asleep in your arms, and soon enough, Carol, Lizzie and Mika were all sleeping while Tyreese took the first watch. “You want me to take her? So you can get some sleep?”

“No, I got her,” you mumble and move to sit next to him.

You sit in silence for a while, with Tyreese adding sticks to the fire every so often and you gently rocking Judith. Your mind drifted back to Rick and Carl and Maggie and Glenn. Were they okay? Were they alive?

The last thing you saw was Rick getting shot in the leg then everything went to shit. Guns went off and fires were started, and you lost sight of pretty much everyone besides Tyreese. You wanted to run out to Rick, to help him, but there were just too many people and too many walkers. You didn’t stand a chance. With everything in you, you were praying to anyone who might be listening that he is still alive, and that he’s looking for you.

Like how you’re looking for him.

You stare at the fire as you trace random shapes onto Judith’s arm with your thumb, lost in your own head. “Everything happened so fast,” you murmur, catching Tyreese’s attention. “Just a few days ago we were all safe and together. Now we don’t even know if everyone’s still alive.”

“We just have to keep looking,” he said, and you knew he was trying to comfort you, but you felt hopeless right now.

“I wanted to go back for him,” you confess. “When we were leaving. I was going to go back, but I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t find him.”

Tyreese looked over at you in surprise. “None of us could get to him,” he assured you. “Rick is strong. He’s stronger than any of us. I know he made it out, him and Carl both.”

There was no way to be sure of that, but you appreciated his words nonetheless. “I remember when I first saw him at that store back in Atlanta. Glenn can tell you that I was in love with him the second I laid eyes on him. It felt like nothing else mattered, then he found his wife and son and I was sure nothing would happen between us.”

Tyreese let out a quiet laugh, leaning back on the log and taking off his hat. “Look at you now,” he teased. “That man is head over heels for you.”

That was true.

Not long after you broke things off with Shane, Rick and Lori began having some issues. They split up long before she found out she was pregnant with Judith, and around her three month mark was when Rick finally allowed himself to begin something with you.

That something turned into an official relationship, and you’d been almost inseparable ever since.

He told you to stay with Daryl and Carl when the Governor and his posse showed up, but then you got separated from both of them and wound up defending Tyreese in a different part of the prison yard.

You smile at the memory of the first kiss you shared with Rick. Then your heart twisted a bit. You missed him so much. You missed everyone.

“Feels like forever ago,” you whisper. “I hope they’re okay. I hope he’s okay.”

Tyreese gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’ll find each other. Right now you just need to focus on looking after his little girl and worry about the rest later,”

You knew he was right, so you gave him a tight smile and nod.

“What do you think Y/n is doing right now?” Carl asked as he sat on the couch next to Rick. He dug through the stale cereal bag and gathered some in his palm, tossing them into his mouth afterwards.

“I don’t know,” Rick answered, leaning forward on his knees as he tried to think of where to go from here. The couch was pressed against the door, a safety measure he deemed necessary since the lock had been broken off it.

His face was sore and still a bit bruised, and the days he’s spent on this couch felt like a bit of a waste when he could be out there looking for his group. Looking for you.

“Do you think she’s by herself?” Carl continued to ask him questions about you that Rick had no idea the answers to. He was losing hope as the days went on, though a very small part of him believed that you were out there somewhere, and that maybe you or someone else had managed to grab Judith on the way out of the prison yard.

“I don’t know,” he answered his son’s question with a stern voice, trying to tell him to be quiet without actually saying the words.

“Do you think she made it out?”

“I don’t know, Carl,” Rick nearly yelled, causing Carl to jump slightly. Rick lowered his voice and looked back at the floor once he saw the way Carl reacted to his outburst. “I don’t know what she’s doing, I don’t know who she’s with and I don’t know if she made it out. Just stop asking me questions that I don’t know the answers to, please.”

Honestly, Rick couldn’t stand the thought of you not having made it out of the prison. He left you with Daryl and Carl, and now he was with Carl with no sign of you or Daryl, and he felt lost.

Carl had told him that he and Daryl got separated, and how he saw you with Tyreese last, but that was all the information he had. He didn’t know where you went after that, and he didn’t know if you had managed to get out of the area you had been backed into.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Carl mumbled, setting the bag aside and leaning back against the couch. “I’m sure we’ll see her again, we just need to start looking.”

“Yeah,” Rick agreed, spinning his wedding band around on his finger. He had no idea why he is still wearing it, him and Lori are very much done and over with and had been for a long time now, so why was he still wearing his ring?

He looked down at the gold band, then without a second thought, he slid it off his finger and put it in his pocket, and thankfully Carl didn’t notice him doing that. He was still mourning his mom, and still getting used to you and Rick, the last thing needed was to see his dad move on completely from her.

“Yeah,” Rick said again. “We’ll start looking for her. We’ll start looking for all of them.”

He couldn’t lose you. He already lost so many people, and he was still recovering from watching the nicest man he had ever met get almost decapitated. He couldn’t lose you too.

When Carol gestured for you to dig around inside the walker she just put down, you didn’t hesitate like you normally would. You didn’t get grossed out or feel nauseous. How could you?

Rick might be alive.

Michonne and Carl were definitely alive, since you heard the piece of shit Terminus guy say he was going to kill them.

They’re alive.

You blended right in, and when Carol blew up one of the tanks littered around Terminus, you and her were able to slip in amongst the walkers. Gunfire was heard all around as the large number of walkers made their way through the poorly protected walls of Terminus, and when you found yourself in a storage room, a feeling of rage took over you.

There were countless things in there; teddy bears, weapons, jewelry, clothes, blankets, and anything else you could imagine a defenseless person would have. Carol found Daryl’s crossbow among the weapons, and you found Rick’s watch among the jewelry. These people were sick, taking things from people who were just trying to survive with what they have.

You were livid as you and Carol slashed and shot your way through the crowds of walkers and Terminus people, and before long you were granted the one thing you’d be wishing for ever since you and Tyreese made it out of the prison.

Rick, Daryl, Bob and Glenn let Maggie, Michonne, Carl, Sasha and three other people you had never seen before out of a train cart, then they were fleeing to the forest.

You were frozen in shock, tears gathered along your water lines before Carol was pulling you with her as she took off after them. You were so relieved to see that mostly everyone had made it out, and that Rick, though he was a bit bloody, is okay.

You stumbled alongside Carol as she followed the group, and when they stopped a good distance away, you could hear Rick’s deep voice as he declared that they were going back to finish the job.

Stopping behind some bushes, you watched the group argue for a bit before Carol stepped away from the greenery and revealed herself. Almost instantly she was wrapped up in Daryl’s arms, and you watched the reunion with burning eyes as you revealed yourself as well.

Rick opened his mouth to say something to Carol, then his gaze flickered over to you and any words he was going to say died on his tongue. Your eyes glazed over again and you froze in your spot, and the last thing you heard was the relieved sigh Daryl let out as he took both you and Carol in, then you were wrapped up in Rick’s arms.

His grip on you was the tightest it’s ever been, and you couldn’t breathe in the best way. You squeeze your eyes shut as you cling onto any part of him you can, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that the group, as well as the three new people, were witnessing you sobbing against Rick’s chest.

You spent days with Tyreese, Carol and the girls, and after what happened with Lizzie and Mika, you were beginning to lose the little amount of hope you had left. You were terrified that the people you called your family were dead or lost somewhere.

But here they are. Beth was missing, and though you were scared to know what happened to her, you couldn’t deny just how happy and grateful you are that you were reunited with most of them.

“Y/n,” Rick mumbled and you held onto him tighter. “I thought you were gone.”

It sounded like those words physically pained him to say, and you shake your head before burying your face against the side of his neck. “I’m here,” you cry, reaching up to grip his shoulder. “I’m right here.”

Rick pulled back and gently gripped your jaw, his eyes taking in your features as if he still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him. “You got out,” he rasped, his thumb stroking your cheek with a barely-there pressure.

You nod, tangling your hands in his damp hair. “With Tyreese, we found Carol a few days later,” you tell him then quickly add, “Well, she found us.”

Rick smiled at your words and it was the prettiest thing you’ve seen in weeks. “You got out,” he murmured, so quiet you barely heard it.

You just nod again and push yourself upwards. Rick meets you halfway and kisses you multiple times, making you laugh against his mouth. “I got out,” you whisper and press a few kisses to his cheek and jaw, then you are wrapped up in his arms again.

Carl makes his way over to you just as Rick reluctantly lets you go and hugs Carol, and you smile down at your boyfriend’s son, who just wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you tight. “Hey, buddy,” you greet quietly, draping your arms over his shoulders as you glance back at Rick.

“Hey,” Carl said back, looking up at you with relieved eyes and a look you’d never seen from him. “Missed you.”

Your lips part in a silent gasp, not used to hearing those kinds of words from him. You were sure he was still a bit upset that you were with his dad instead of his mom now, but were pleasantly proven wrong as he squeezed you one last time before stepping away. “I missed you,” you’re finally able to say as Rick comes back over and pulls you into his side. “And you.”

He grinned down at you and kissed the top of your head just as the red haired man speaks up, “You guys are the luckiest sons of bitches I’ve ever met,”

You furrow your brows as Glenn laughs, wrapping his arm around Maggie’s waist. “We’re not lucky very often,”

“Yeah, well, both you and Rick here found your better halves,” the man said and adjusted the strap on his gun. “I’d say that’s pretty lucky. It’s a miracle we got out of that damn train, too.”

“That wasn’t luck,” Daryl grunted as he looked between you and Carol, and it was then when Rick clued in.

He tightened his hold on you as he asked, “That was you two, wasn’t it?”

You shrug while Carol lets out a rare, short lived laugh. “I couldn’t lose you again,” you mumble. “Not when I hadn’t even gotten you back yet.”

Rick falls silent at that, and he locks his jaw in the way that told you he’s holding back his emotions right now. He pulls you into his arms again and kisses the top of your head, muttering, “Thank you,” once he pulls away.

“There’s something else,” Carol says, making everyone look over at her. “But I think we should show you rather than tell you.”

And that was how you found yourself wrapped up in Glenn’s arms once Rick finally let you go after he saw that Judith was alive and being held by Tyreese. You return your best friend’s hug as you watch Rick cry quietly, taking Judith from the man who protected her with his life for as long as you’ve been separated.

Maggie comes over to you and hugs you as well as Carl runs over to hug his sister, and the whole thing was like something straight out of a movie as you felt a warmth take over you.

You were back with your family. They were all alive. They were okay.

The two men share a look as Rick realizes that he had Tyreese to thank for keeping Judith safe, then Sasha is hugging her brother with tears in her eyes. You pull away from Maggie as Rick hands Judith to Carl, then you are engulfed in his embrace. “Thank you,” his voice was raspy and his breathing was uneven, and you could tell he was on the verge of tears again as he held you tight. “I thought she was gone. I thought Judith was gone.”

You hugged him back, sniffling quietly. “We had to grab her quickly, we just took what we could before getting out of there,”

Rick pulled away and kissed you, his hands reaching up to grip either side of your face. “I love you,” he mumbled, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed your forehead. “I love you so much. Thank you for keeping her safe, all of you.” He glances back at Carol and Tyreese, who just nod at him, then he is focused back on you.

“I love you,” came your hushed reply, and you leaned in to rest your head against his shoulder, finally feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever.

#rick grimes imagine #rick grimes imagines #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes angst #rick grimes fluff #the walking dead angst #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #twd x reader #twd fluff #twd imagine #twd imagines #twd #twd rick #rick grimes #twd fanfiction

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finalgirlrick · 1 year

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You First

Pairing: Rick Grimes x Reader

Word Count: 540

Warnings: none, just fluff. & rick being a sl*t what's new. also this gif....god.

A/N: I've had this done for a while but held off on posting it, this is mostly just me trying to rationalize Rick being a cop to myself lmao. Alternative Title: Fuck the police. Anyways, lmk what you think!

“You know, we would’ve hated each other before,” you said while sitting on the couch, Rick’s head lying across your lap. You had taken the opportunity to play with his hair, running your fingers through his soft brown curls and twirling the ends.

“What?” he answered, confused at the random comment. It was something that had crossed your mind many times before, but you never brought it up until now. You were both lost in the film you were watching when the thought suddenly popped into your mind and the words finally came out. “It’s true,” you added.

“Yeah? How?” he asked turning and tilting his head to look up at you.

“Well, this would’ve never happened for a ton of reasons,” you shrugged, gesturing between the two of you. “Ton?” he repeated with a dramatic jolt, shifting in your lap.

You chuckled at the gesture. “You know what I mean,” you smiled. He narrowed his eyes at you playfully, waiting for you to explain. “Alright, maybe not a ton,” you gave in while smoothing his hair back. “It’s just you were a cop, right? And I hated them. You took a deep breath in, “And I also got into trouble a few times back then…”

“Oh, you got into trouble?” he teased with a smirk, lingering on the last word. He got up briefly to meet your eyes, his gaze slowly moving down your face and landing on your lips, and you felt butterflies before he went back to lie down on your lap. He knew what he was doing. God, you hated him sometimes.

“Everyone hated cops,” he said, his tone shifting. “Even you?” you questioned him.

“I hated a lot of the guys I worked with,” he sighed bringing his hand up to rub his forehead. “I just wanted to help people. I needed to take care of Carl and Lori. And I didn’t have the brains to be a doctor or a lawyer. Weren’t many options for me, it was the next best thing.”

“Well, that was very noble of you Rick,” you teased him. “Shut up,” he replied rolling his eyes with a smirk.

“And I’ll admit when I first saw you in that uniform…it did things to me,” you joked. He scoffed, trying and failing to hide his smile. “So, why would I hate you?” he asked, straightening himself up. You furrowed your brows at his question. “You only said why you would’ve hated me.”

“Oh, right,” you lifted your eyes up to the ceiling in fake deep thought before replying with a cheeky grin, “I don’t know. I guess you wouldn’t have had a reason to hate me.” Rick chuckled before sitting himself up and lightly grabbing ahold of your chin. “Well, none of this stuff matters anymore,” he said. “That’s not who I am, and we’re here now together.” He brushed his fingers across your cheek before pulling you into a deep kiss. Things quickly escalated as he pulled you under him, carefully laying you down on the couch. It startled you when he suddenly broke the kiss, only to tease you once again about your earlier admission. You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous man, pulling him back down.

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes x you #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes fanfic #andrew lincoln #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #rick grimes / reader #rick grimes / you #rick grimes twd #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes angst #the walking dead fanfiction #this is actually so cute reading it back idk why i hated it so much

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sayafics · 2 months

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As, Bs and Cs - Chapter I

A CRM!Rick Grimes x OFC fic!

This is quite a lengthy chapter to hopefully build up the necessary context and foundations to their connection.

Masterlist

Next Chapter

The world had ended over a decade ago, the walkers consuming the population bit by bit until there was nothing left. The Civic Republic scrounged up who they could, their numbers growing to the thousands.

Still, the ones they had were not good enough.

They were civillians. Normal people who did normal things and didn't understand like the rest of them.

The Civic Republic Military was losing more and more soldiers with every mission, becoming overwhelmed with the number of walkers that roamed outside their walls. There weren't enough people to replace them - enough competent people at least.

In a decade or two, the CRM could collapse, and it would be no one's fault but their own.

They are the ones who had saved thousands of people who couldn't fight, when they should have looked for more soldiers in their place.

The CRM was weakening, and if it crumbled the Civic Republic and all its people would pay the price.

That was when Dr. Greer had proposed a... curious idea.

The Civic Republic was not without its faults, and neither were its people. They had their fair share of criminals who would pay the price with community service, but there was a small percentage; almost minute; who were worse.

Major General Beale had wanted them sentenced to death for their crimes, but Okafor had protested. He argued in favour of their usefulness - the skills they needed to commit the horrors they did was what was necessary in the CRM.

They could find use of them, he promised.

And it seemed Dr. Greer had.

Dr. Greer was a geneticist before the world had ended, with a long and profound career in foetal medicine.

A controlled birthing population - a programme designed so the CRM could gain the soldiers they needed without gaining too many mouths to eat.

The programme had only been a whisper for the last few years, a quiet promise and a tempting future. But the opportunity to implement it had never arised.

Until now.

The Campus Colony had been set aflame, and with it, it had stolen over nine thousand souls.

The perfect opportunity.

Now, all they needed were the perfect lab rats. A way to prove the programme would work - a method to rehabilitate criminals and give the CRM what it needed.

Major General Beale had wanted Okafor to be the first to try, but as whispers of Rick Grimes' rebellious streak took hold of him, he saw it as the sole opportunity to truly have control over the man.

Rick Grimes had spent years trying to escape the Civic Republic, all of his attempts ending the same - in failure. But he had grown daring, even willing to cut off his own arm so he could have a chance to return to his life before the CRM.

When the man had finally agreed to join the CRM after years of rejection, the ease behind his decision only made Beale grow more suspicious.

Rick had changed his mind so easily and had given up on finding his friends and family in a blink.

It made Beale uneasy.

So he would do what he could to keep the man tied to the CRM, even if it came in the form of a child.

***

"I didn't sign up for this."

Rick's voice was filled with fury as Okafor stood before him stone-faced, having recounted what Beale and Greer told him as he passed on the orders to Grimes.

"Yes, you did. The minute you said yes to joining the CRM, you said yes to every condition Beale makes."

Rick scoffs, a hand running through his hair as he paces up and down the sparse space of his living room.

His voice deepened to a growl, "this wasn't part of the deal. This wasn't our deal!"

"I know," Okafor's voice softened. He knew what was happening was wrong, but there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Not right now.

"But you have to, Rick. If you don't, then someone else will. You're a good man, Rick. The others aren't."

Rick narrowed his eyes, growing sceptical of his words. He couldn't believe this was happening.

Okafor called it a controlled repopulation, a programme designed so the CRM could have the soldiers it needed in the future. But he saw it for what it was, and it wasn't anything good.

"Why do you care so much if I say yes?"

Okaford clenched his jaw, "because it's my fault she's here. And the least I can do is make sure she won't end up being partnered with someone that would hurt her."

"Your fault?"

A grim smile twitched on Okafor's face as he sighed and took a seat on Rick's couch, his head falling into his hands as his shoulders shook with morbid amusement.

"I brought her here. As a 'B' not an 'A'. She lost everyone because the men in our ranks knew no control, and I promised her she would find everything she needed here. And now what? She's a 'C'? A criminal turned into a pet for Greer and her people to study her like she's a fucking lab rat."

A bitter laugh escaped his throat as Rick came to a stop in front of him. He waited, hoping the silence would urge Okafor on.

"My men and I were sent on a covert mission - a retrieval. But one of the recruits got spooked, lit up everything around him as fast as he could. By the time we got him down, it was too late. You could hear her screaming, like it was battering your brain. We went to look for her and found her and her people inside a small cabin a few clicks north."

"What happened?"

Rick's voice was sombre, he knew what had happened.

"They were all dead and she was dying."

Okafor looked up at Rick, eyes wet despite the blank look upon his face - "I brought her back. Said she was a 'B' and spent every day after convincing her to join the CRM. She said no, of course."

He scoffed before he continued, "when she finally got citizenship, shit. Let's just say the world really didn't change much from before. She got herself a life sentence, would've been given death if I hadn't stopped Beale."

Now that sparked Rick's interest, what damage could someone do to have Beale want to sentence them to death. Or better yet, what hold did she have on Okafor for him to still fight for her after the supposed horrors she committed.

"This is a second chance. For things to go right."

Rick shook his head vehemently, "no. This ain't right. This ain't no second chance. This is worse than death. Worse than torture. Look what you're signing her up to."

"But it's the closest she'll ever get. Look, if this works, if the programme is successful and you give them what they want, she'll get her freedom back. Five years, Rick. It's five years and then she is no longer your burden to bare."

Before Rick could protest further, a bellowed voice called him from the front door, the blatant order being punctuated by three heavy knocks.

At the sound of Beale's voice, Okafor's shoulders straightened, and he stood up with a stiff spine as he looked into Rick's eyes, a hazy vision of pleading behind the stoic mask of an obedient solider.

"Say yes, Rick. Don't fight against it. They'll make you take someone anyway. Just let it be her. No one says no to Beale."

Okafor didn't give Rick a chance to reply, skirting past him as he swung the door open and stood at attention, saluting Beale in greeting. Rick followed him instinctively, copying his every move.

Beale nodded at the men to stand down, marching past them. Behind him followed a stern-faced woman, narrow-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose as she pursed her lips in distaste at the sight of Rick's apartment. She made her way towards Beale, nodding at Rick and Okafor before she looked over her shoulder and called, "bring in the girl."

They all turned to face the door now, the quiet jingle of chains growing more ominous as the faceless figure of Alara Hunter drew closer.

Rick held his breath when he finally caught sight of her.

She was flanked by four soldiers, their grip on her arms and shoulders so tight Rick could see her skin blanching under their touch. She was dressed in a thin vest, blue jeans, and socks. Her hands were cuffed, and so were her ankles, each one attached to a single chain held by the soldier on her right.

He couldn't help but furrow his brows as he lifted his eyes to track her face only to find half of it concealed behind what appeared to be a muzzle.

Her dark eyes darted across the people standing in Rick's apartment before flickering back to where Rick knew Okafor stood. He could see her throat move as she swallowed harshly at the sight of the man.

Apart from the chains and muzzle, she looked well. Rick wanted to scoff at the thought as soon as it entered his mind. Here she was, a young woman who had lost freedom, who was chained and tied down by the CRM.

But she looked clean and healthy and angry.

"Rick Grimes."

It was Greer who spoke, a pleasant smile upon her face that didn't match her demeanour.

"I believe Okafor has explained to you the purposes of this task?"

Rick clenched his jaw, turning to face the woman. He couldn't help but take a final glance at the woman standing at the door - Alara Hunter.

He turned back, catching Okafor's gaze before he nodded solemnly, "yes, ma'am."

"And so, I believe you are happy to participate in this mission of ours?"

Mission?

He wanted to spit in her face, call her vile and absurd and stupid. This wasn't a mission. It was immoral and unethical and torture.

Still, he held himself back.

He had seen the other men in the CRM: brutes that were all too happy to hurt instead of speak. Cowards who wasted bullets on flickering shadows. Men who had never truly grown up, and behaved like unsupervised children.

It wouldn't be fair to subject her to such a fate because Okafor was right. Regardless of whether or not Rick said yes to Alara, he would still be assigned a partner, and so would she.

He gritted his teeth as he nodded, "yes ma'am."

Beale let out a deep chuckle, moving forward to clap a hand on Rick's shoulder as he spoke, "this may be the best decision you've made, son. You are doing the CRM proud."

Rick looked over his shoulder once more, catching Alara's dark gaze, which grew hopeless as the seconds ticked by, and he wondered for a moment whether the people he left back in Alexandria would be proud.

"There are some conditions, of course."

"Conditions?" He turned back to Beale with a look of incredulity, eyes narrowing as he took a step back and shook the hand off his shoulder, "what conditions?"

"Given your... history here at the Civic Republic, Dr. Greer thought it best to ensure your compliance."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" It was Okafor who spoke now, drawing forward as his gaze skipped between Rick and Alara, who stood motionless at the door.

Greer spoke now, her voice sounded pleased as she sniffed lightly, "we believed it necessary that your first few copulations were witnessed. Simply to ensure adherence of course."

Rick felt bile burn the back of his throat, a wave of nausea that just grew strong every passing second since Okafor first told him and Greer's plans - "you want to watch us have sex?"

"If you would like to put it so crudely, then yes."

***

The conversation hadn't lasted much longer than that, Rick unable to have much of a say apart from agreeing to their terms.

Okafor had shifted to meet Rick's eyes with his own pleading gaze, and Rick had agreed to Beale's conditions under a certain stipulation.

He had only wanted the first attempt to be witnessed, but it seemed that Greer was unwilling to go any lower than three. Rick agreed begrudgingly, knowing three was still better than the initial seven Greer had wanted.

It was under Greer's command that the girl was escorted to his bedroom, and Rick was unable to hide his look of disapproval and contempt as they looped her chain around a post on his bed. It made him sick to see such a thing, made his stomach twist and turn as he held back his anger with strained difficulty.

As they made their way out of Rick's apartment, Greer turned to him with a leering grin, eyes running over his form as she wished him luck and revealed that she couldn't wait for the performance he put on tomorrow.

Rick froze at that, tomorrow?

Greer could only laugh coyly, an expression that was unsuited for her ageing face. She ran a hand over her slicked back hair, adjusting her bun as she smiled in earnest - "tomorrow is trial day number 1. It seems our experiment started at the perfect time, Miss Hunter begins ovulating tomorrow."

Rick shifted uncomfortably at the fact, unsure of what to say or do. It seemed Okafor was the same, eyes darting between Rick and the closed door over his shoulder where he knew Alara had been hidden.

"I have left you with the booklet instructing you on how to care for your programme partner, as well as how to discipline her, should she become aggressive. Do follow the guide Mr Grimes, we wouldn't want to place our first participant in any harm."

Rick could only blink, hand tightening around the small handwritten booklet Greer had passed him whilst Beale's men were dragging a reluctant Alara to his room. He could only nod, unable to meet anyone's eyes as he reached for the door and pushed it shut.

The last thing he saw was Greer exchanging a victorious grin with Beale and realised that they believed they had won.

And for once, Rick feared they may have been right.

***

After Okafor had left with Beale and Greer, Rick's apartment rung silent. If he hadn't seen Beale's men drag the girl into his room, it would've seemed like nothing had ever happened.

But it did.

Rick wasn't sure what to do - whether he should just sit on his couch and finish his bottle of rum, or if he should go in and make sure his "programme partner" was okay.

She hadn't so much as twitched in the wrong way since they dragged her to his doorstep. Her eyes wandered. They darkened and misted and narrowed, but she never moved too quickly or pulled away too harshly.

Whatever she had done was enough for Beale to have wanted her dead, and for Greer to want her genetics to be passed onto the soldiers she was curating.

Rick glanced at the closed door to his bedroom, wondering what monster hid beneath the chained woman who stood in there. Then he thought for a moment of who he was before the CRM, before Alexandria. Of the beast he had become after months on the road, surviving day to day with his children and his friends- his family.

Okafor had said one of his men had killed her people, and Rick knew that if he had been in her position and everyone he knew and loved had died, he would want to destroy the Civic Republic and all it stood for.

It was in that quiet space of reflection that he realised she may not be the monster they all made her put to be. And if she was, she couldn't be worse than the one that lurked in the shadows of his being. The monster that was chained down by threats. The monster that was trapped in a community of faux civilisation.

Rick steeled his spine, and with every step he took towards the bedroom door, he wondered how exactly he had been dealt such a fate.

***

Alara Hunter hadn't always been angry. She used to be quiet and shy and cry at the smallest inconveniences. She liked to think an echo of that girl still sounded inside her, but sitting on top of a stranger's bed, her wrists and ankles wound in chains and her lips forced shut, she wondered how she had managed to get herself into such a predicament.

She wondered how she had changed so easily.

She wondered why she was always so angry.

She still cried. Of course, she did. But her tears were filled with fury, with hatred. Towards everyone - her father for leaving her when the world ended, her people for shielding her that night, Okafor for bringing her to this God forsaken community. And herself.

Alara was so angry at herself. For letting herself be brought here instead of fighting to die at her people's side, for letting herself get trapped with the very people that slaughtered them, for letting them take advantage of her and get away with that too.

And now, what?

A sex slave for the CRM. A breeding whore. A mindless cunt.

Not an A, never a B. Trapped as a C.

Her heart hammered with rage, her hands trembled and her eyes clouded as she struggled to breathe through the muzzle. Like a dog, they had chained her and tied her down.

She promised herself, with a soundless voice echoing in her mind, that she would kill them all. She would burn them to the ground and make sure they couldn't rise again.

She wouldn't let them win. She couldn't.

The sound of a door creaking open pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked up to find the man who had been assigned to take everything from her. To break her.

Beale hadn't outright admitted that was the reason he agreed to place her in the programme so easily, but she knew. She could see it in the way his eyes lit up with triumph when Rick agreed, how he grinned viciously when Greer was adamant to watch their copulations.

He thought this would break her, but she wouldn't let it.

She stared at the man - Rick. He was tall, tall enough that she was sure even if she was standing she would have to crane her neck to look him in the eyes.

And his eyes, she found she couldn't look away if she tried. Something hollow glistened in them, as though the man was no longer human.

An unfamiliar whisper spoke in her mind, like calls to like. And she wondered how much truth was held behind such a statement.

He was handsome, she couldn't fault him there. But he was a soldier for the CRM and that made him an enemy. It meant regardless of his pretty eyes or gravelled voice, he was just as bad as the rest of them.

Just as bad as Greer and Beale and Okafor.

Rick steps closer to her and Alara can't help but shrink away. It seems he expected her reaction, halting on the spot as his eyes soften. The sight did nothing but ignite a smouldering rage in her heart - if he felt pity for her, he should let her go. Let her escape.

For some reason, it seemed Rick was able to understand exactly what she was thinking, and he spoke placatively as she narrowed her eyes in his direction, "I can't take the cuffs off."

Alara rolled her eyes, that much was obvious. If he wasn't going to help her, then she didn't want to speak to him. She drew herself back further on the bed, her back pressing against the headboard as she turned to look out the small window of his bedroom.

The view wasn't the best, but it was more than the sliver of light that occasionally glimpsed through her cell. She felt the gentle touch of a setting sun heat her skin, she could feel herself flush under its soft embrace as she wondered how many years it had been since she had felt the sun on her face. The wind in her hair.

Her skin had paled in her dark cell, her tan from harsh summers in Georgia stripped from her when she was sentenced. It was then she decided; it had been far too long.

She closed her eyes and counted Rick's breaths as he stood, watching. The setting sun was a timer to the start of her doom, she heard Greer's plans and it was moving too quickly to put a stop to them now.

Rick's breaths were slow and steady, like he was trying to control his own wild beast as he watched her. She pretended they were the sound of a clock ticking, that time had slowed down to let her savour this broken freedom and make most of the hours she had left.

The bed sunk under an unexpected weight and the light warming her face had been blocked by a head. She kept her eyes closed pretending she didn't notice the difference- pretending her face didn't grow warmer under his intense stare.

"Have you eaten? It's late."

She kept quiet, hoping he would think she was dozing off and leave her be. But he saw the way her lashes fluttered, the way her chest rose and fell in quick successions as she struggled to breathe through the mask, the way her fingers twitched when he shuffled upon the bed.

He scratched the back of his neck, unsure of what to say or what to do.

"I could make you something to eat. I- I could make pancakes, Ca-" he took another deep breath, settling a quiet ache in his chest, "or eggs or something."

Her eyes burned as she kept them shut tight, thinking about when the last time she had a warm meal was. She turned away from him, nodding as she reached a hand to run through her hair only for the chain to stop it short of her shoulders. She gritted her teeth at the harsh tug, unable to hide her sniffles and the tears streaming down her face.

Why was she crying?

Was it anger? Fear?

Rick watched her for a moment as she tried to compose herself. She struggled with the limited movement and tangled chains, she screwed her eyes shut and her shoulders raised as she took deep breaths.

Rick couldn't help the apology that escaped his lips as he stood from the bed, nor could he stop the guilt weighing upon his shoulders at the broken laugh she replied with.

***

Rick hadn't eaten much since joining the CRM. Being forced to give up the idea of returning to Alexandria had taken a part of him, had broken it beyond repair. He rarely felt hungry anymore.

At most, he would force himself to eat some slices of toast so he wouldn't stumble during training. Or if he was truly lost in his thoughts, he would make himself Carl's favourite meal and pretend his son was there, eating it alongside him.

That was what sat in front of him now - blueberry and peanut butter pancakes, with whipped cream dolloped on to make a smiley-face and sugar sprinkled on top. He remembered the day Carl had first begged him to make it, and his pleading eyes and mischievous grin had been too precious to say no. It had tasted horrible, all sorts of sticky and sweet lathered in soft bread, but when Carl had asked him so proudly what he thought, Rick could only smile and clear his plate.

The handwritten guide Greer gave him sat on the counter near him, and the page he had left it open on strictly forbade him from giving the girl utensils, in case she hurt herself or him.

He didn't have any plastic cutlery on hand, so he could only sigh as he took the paper plate back to his room to lay on top of the bed.

Alara stared at the carefully decorated stack, and though the muzzle hid the shape of her lips, he saw the corner of her eyes crinkle and he liked to think it was because this small memory of Carl had been enough to make her smile.

He bit his lip before he spoke, "I can take the..." he gestured carefully to her face, "I can take it off, so you can eat."

Her eyes gleamed with hope, her lips burning at the stretch of the mouthpiece wedged between so she couldn't bite her tongue and choke herself to death.

"But I got'a put it back on after, okay?"

Her eyes narrowed, she pushed the plate away as a garbled scoff could be heard through the muzzle. She knew she shouldn't be surprised, it wasn't as though the muzzle was a newly added piece to her prison regalia. No, Beale had ordered it to be placed on her after her first few weeks in the CRM prison cell didn't go too well.

"Hey, look," Rick's voice sounded strongly as he got closer, sitting at the edge of the bed and facing her, "I wouldn't do it if I didn't have to. But it's in Greer's instructions, and if I ignore it, it's not going to end well for either of us."

She looked at him with scepticism in her eyes, but it took one look at the warm plate of pancakes to dissolve any resistance. She agreed reluctantly, and Rick reached around her head to unclip the mouthpiece.

It covered her entire mouth and lower jaw, pressed tight against the skin in a way he knew had to be uncomfortable.

Alara could feel his slow breaths on her neck, and goosebumps broke out marking their way down her arms and chest. Rick felt her shiver against him, and as he continued to unlatch her muzzle, he murmured a promise to try and get some clothes that would fit over her manacles.

When he finally gets the muzzle free, the first sound to escape her was a relieved sigh, making the most of her momentary freedom. She stretched her jaw and Rick leaned away, throwing the muzzle on to the bed as he stared at her with his gaze anew.

When he had first seen her, he couldn't deny her beauty - not with her long, dark hair and her soft brown eyes. But now, seeing her face whole, he couldn't help but be mesmerised by the sight of her.

Alara was young, her youth visible in her face. She looked untouched and unharmed by the end of the world, but Rick knew that thought was a lie.

She licked her lips, the skin cracked and dry from being forced to remain stretched over the mouthpiece. She looked away from Rick, pretending he wasn't there despite how hard it was to ignore that the man sat directly opposite her.

He pushed the plate closer, encouragingly - "eat."

She reached for the plate, unsurprised by the lack of utensils, and ripped off a piece of the pancake. She reached to place it in her mouth, only for her chains to stop her short. She growled lightly in frustration before leaning her head down to take it into her mouth. The awkward position hurt her neck, the muscles already aching from the weight of her muzzle.

She sighed contently, the pancake warm in her mouth and the cream melting quickly. It was sweet and left a cloying taste in her mouth, her jaw tingling as it was exposed to flavours that had been hidden from her for so long.

She looked out the window again where night had fallen, and slowly chewed the food in her mouth as she savoured it. When she swallowed, she turned back to take another piece only to find one waiting inches from her face.

Rick watched her with a contemplative gaze, before encouraging her by saying, "it wouldn't do you any good to eat like that."

She bit her lip, wondering what she should do. But this might be the only meal she gets before the trial if Greer had it her way - she didn't know what instructions Greer had left, so she couldn't risk not taking the opportunity if it stood before her.

Another careful thought entered her mind, pushing her to get close to Rick - close enough, intimate enough that he may possibly choose her over the CRM.

She kept that whisper close to her heart, looking deep into Rick's eyes that resembled the sky and she ate the piece he held for her. He watched her chew and swallow, and something in her begged her to speak.

To show her gratitude or to fill the silence. Something to show him she was human, something to make it easier for him to care.

"This tastes horrible."

It was the first time she had spoken in years - she had given up talking because there was simply no one to listen, and her broken screams had been silenced by Beale's muzzle.

Her voice cracked with every word, rasped and dry. The sound of her voice felt like that of a stranger's.

To her surprise, Rick simply laughed, his eyes glistening with the faint memory of something as he tore off another piece to feed her.

They then chose to sit in silence, Rick feeding her every bite and watching her chew and swallow methodically. By the end, Alara hated to say that she grew fond of the weird taste and wondered when she could try them next.

When Rick stood to dispose of the plate, they both pretended not to notice how he forgot to replace the muzzle.

***

The bed was soft - foreign. After years of a thin mattress on the cold cement floor, she didn't think she could get used to something like this bed again. Nor the feeling of sleeping without a chunk of metal strapped across her face.

It had helped with one thing though, that stupid muzzle. She had learnt to make the most of each breath, quiet inhales for six deep seconds, hold for four and release over eight. Wait and repeat.

It was a structured sound, calculated based on the accompanying breaths that sounded from the ground.

Rick also lied awake, eyes focused on the ceiling as his mind whirred around how everything had changed so quickly. Again.

First the bridge. Then the CRM. And now, her.

For once, he found himself thinking of someone else other than those whom he had left behind in Alexandria, and he wasn't sure if it was a good thing. He thought of her reaction to the pancakes, a ghost of a smile on his face as he reminisced a fading past with his son.

He wondered what colour Carl's eyes had been when they widened in glee. Had they been the bright blue of a summer sky? Or the misty clouds right before a thunderstorm? Carl had always loved thunderstorms, loved to run through the rain and splash in the mud before everything had gone so wrong. Had his eyes been blue at all?

And what about Judith? Who had she grown to resemble? He imagined she would be a spitting image of Lori, with her long brown her and her kind eyes, but she would have Shane's short temper and remarks and it would make her that much more precious to him.

His eyes burned, and he sent a silent prayer to whoever would listen and begged to be reunited with his child. An even quieter whisper confessed he wouldn't mind which one.

Alara's breaths teetered off, her silent counting falling apart as Rick's own grew shuttered in the dark. She wasn't sure if she should say something - he had chosen to stay here, to sleep on the floor and listen to the guide even though he had already ignored it once.

Then she thought of the miserable nights she spent in her damp cell, how she wished there was someone she could share her burdens with so they wouldn't hollow her soul and burn her will.

"How did you get here?" She whispered into the dark, her voice still scratchy from the lack of use.

She heard in sharp inhale, one he tried to cover with the rustling of blankets as he turned his head to look at where she lay on the edge of the bed.

Lying on her stomach was the only comfortable position she could manage. Her head rested on her arms, her legs curled as close to her body as she could manage. She could only look towards Rick in her mangled state, but there was something in her gaze that looked content at the feel of the beds soft embrace.

Even the smell was so unlike the stale wetness that clouded her cell, it had smelt like the air right before the rain fell in autumn. Now, her nose was buried in the faint scent of musk, leather and something earthy, and she liked to think this is what freedom would smell like, had they let her roam outside.

"Someone found me when I was hurt," Rick believed there was no harm in revealing such information, a small part of him hoping the small similarities in their pasts would make her trust him even more.

"They brought me here, I haven't left since."

"Because you didn't want to? Or because you couldn't?"

The silence that rung between them spoke for itself.

"They took everything from me before bringing me here. The only thing I wanted was my freedom, and they've taken that too." There was no hesitation in her confession, only conviction.

Rick watched as she shifted her head so she could focus on the lamp on the nightstand instead, and before he could wonder if she would use it to hurt him, he saw her eyes glisten in the faint shadows of light.

"And now..." her voice wavered for a new reason entirely, "they're going to take my choice from me. And I can't do anything but wait."

A harsh laugh escaped her, her head shaking vigorously on the pillow as she shook her head and her voice dropped to something promising and threatening - "I'm going to burn them all. I'll make them all pay."

"You can't."

He could feel her glare through the dark, but he knew his words were true.

"There is no killing them. There is no escape."

"You don't know that. Not unless you've tried."

Rick lay a hand over his stumped arm, his heart sinking as he remembers all he sacrificed to escape only to stay trapped.

He doesn't say another word for the rest of the night, falling into a fitful sleep.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! There are many more to come <3. Let me know if you have any theories or ideas for what might happen next, I would love to hear them! And to the people who have been following me from the start, thank you for being patient during my long break. I hope I gave you guys something worthwhile to come back to <33.

Taglist: @hhhilloklll @bellstwd @classyunknownlover @voodoopoetry @graveyardblossom

#crm!rick grimes #rick grimes x oc #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes x you #the walking dead #the ones who live #twd towl #twd fanfiction #rick grimes angst #rick grimes fic #rick grimes fluff #eventual smut #twd x reader

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

shrike ; rick grimes.

track eight of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; rick grimes x gn!reader

synopsis ; alexandria was a safe haven. but it wasn’t home, no matter how hard rick tried for it to be.

words ; 1.1k

themes ; fluff, angst

warnings / includes ; lots of kisses, mild suggestiveness, a bit of angst, rick's beard is gone :(

a/n ; sobbed and screamed during twd's finale ;-; this is in honor of rick's return <3

main masterlist.

The quiet in Alexandria felt different from the quiet outside.

This quiet felt suffocating—like the calm before a storm. Outside, the quiet was something you cherished, a comfort that became a scarcity.

Now—now there was too much.

It was too quiet.

The white blanket pooled around you as you shifted yourself up the bed, until you were flush against the cool wood of the headboard.

Rick stirred in his sleep beside you, mumbling incoherently under his breath. The arm that was once hooked around your midriff now loosely draped over your legs, warm and heavy.

You watched him keenly, observed the way the moonlight melded over his features, softened in slumber. It was strange seeing him clean-shaven, he’d been growing out his beard for such a long time, you’d nearly forgotten what he looked like without it. His wiry brown curls fell over his forehead as he turned slightly, nuzzling his nose into the side of your thigh. You gently brushed his hair away from his eyes, pursing your lips.

When one of his eyes cracked open, a groggy noise fell from his throat, and he moved forward until his entire cheek rested upon your leg.

“Why’re you awake, darlin’?” he asked quietly, shattering the fragile silence, a certain sleep-heavy timbre woven through his tone. “‘S still dark. Sun ain’t out yet.” As he spoke, his eyelids seemed to droop, fighting the urge to pass out again. Weeks of sleepless nights were finally starting to get to him.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, threading your fingers through his overgrown hair. “It’s a habit.”

Rick blinked up at you, blue eyes watering as he muffled a yawn. He pushed himself up on an elbow, ducking forward to slant his lips on your cheek.

“I miss your beard,” you said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

He jerked back to raise an eyebrow at you. “You always complained that it tickled you,” he replied, haughtily.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t realize how much I liked it until it was gone.”

There was an underlying implication to what you said, and it was clear to Rick that you weren’t just talking about his beard.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait until it grows back,” he said, giving you another kiss, this time to the side of your temple, before scooching back down with a pleasant sigh, resting his head on your chest, listening to the faint thump, thump, thump, of your heartbeat.

“I love you,” he said into your shirt.

“Love you, too.”

The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence.

Tentative, you mumbled out, “Rick, I don’t feel safe here.”

Your words were quiet, much like the silence enveloped around you. When you glanced back down at your boyfriend, you weren’t at all surprised to see him asleep, cheek smushed against your chest as his own steadily rose and fell.

Your eyelids drooped with exhaustion, but you stayed awake.

Sleep never reached you that night.

“You’ve got a bit of toothpaste,” said Rick as he strode into the bathroom, gesturing vaguely to his mouth. Before you could move to wipe it away, Rick bent forward and kissed you deeply, his forehead knocking against yours amidst his fervor. One of his hands snaked over your waist and the other traversed lower to tightly grip your thigh, hiking you up against the bathroom sink. You made a noise of content, nearly melting into him when he hummed over you. “Mmh, minty.”

When he pulled away, you were able to get a good look at his new police uniform, which was really just a ratty brown jacket pulled over a blue button up. Either way, it looked good on him.

“Hiya, officer,” you murmured with a cheeky grin, one of your hands wrapping around his tie, tugging him closer. “You clean up well.”

“Didn’t know you had a thing for uniforms,” he said, voice dropping an octave lower. His gaze darted from your eyes to your lips, unsubtle in his growing lust.

“Wouldn’t really call that a uniform. Looks more like a halloween costume than anything,” you chuckled, to which Rick just rolled his eyes, dipping back to you to steal away your laughter.

He kissed slower this time, nose flush against yours.

You were the one to pull away, pressing a hand to his chest.

Noticing the change in the atmosphere, Rick tilted his head, placing a tender hand beneath your chin. “Everythin’ okay?”

“Rick… doesn’t this feel weird to you? Like… like we’re playing pretend? It doesn’t feel right.” Guilt roiled within your stomach as you echoed what you had said last night. “I don’t feel safe here.”

His brow furrowed, and he let out a small sigh. “I know what you mean. This place feels too good to be true—but I have to try to make this work. We have to try. For Carl. For Judith.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Rick,” you started, worrying your teeth into your bottom lip, “Alexandria will never be a home to me. These people—they’ve been sheltered—oblivious this entire time. I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable around them. At least not until I know I can trust them. But even though Alexandria won’t ever be a home to me… home will be wherever family is. And right now, if you want us to stay, then I’ll stay—because you’re my family, Rick.”

Your boyfriend stared at you with those pretty blue eyes, glistening with unshed tears. “I love you,” he whispered, voice cracking with raw emotion. “I love you.”

He kissed you again, eyelids squeezing shut as tears slipped down his cheek. His lips left yours, moving up to your temple, where he freckled dozens of pecks over your hairline.

“We’ll build a home together. You and me—I promise,” he mumbled, encompassing his arms around you fully to rope you into a warm embrace.

“Okay, Rick,” you said, voice slightly muffled by his shoulder. “I trust you. I love you, too.”

As you held onto him, enveloped by his pleasant, musky forest scent, you realized that home would be with him. Rick was your home, wherever he went. And you’d follow him every step of the way.

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catt-leya · 1 year

Text

Nighttime || Rick Grimes 18+

Sooo this might be the sweetest fic I've ever written. I tried to make up for the loving words you wrote to me and I hope it's like you imagined it to be 💗 and again: thank you so much 💗💗💗

Original request here

About the fic: It's mainly fluff but it wouldn't be me if I wasn't able to at least mention a bit of smutty action 👉🏼👈🏼💗

Trigger: none (?) but a bit pregnancy at the end

Hospital

Shivering, you look around the hospital you've fled to and take a deep breath as you hear the pure silence. If there were living dead people walking around here, you should have heard them by now.

In fact, this hospital may be the last place in this city that hasn't been completely overrun and razed.

Carefully you walk through the long and dark corridor, avoiding the cables hanging from the ceiling.

Perhaps you could find a reasonably safe space here to at least gather yourself and then move on to another city.

Maybe you could also find some supplies and get yourself....

Before you can finish the thought, you hear soft footsteps.

Immediately you stop, rooted to the spot, and try to figure out where the footsteps are coming from.

It is so oppressively quiet that you hear every step as if the source were only 2 meters away from you.

Your hands get sweaty and you take a silent step to the side to lean your back against the wall, listening strained for the sound that must be coming from around the corner to your left.

You force yourself to stay calm and figure out what it is first, firmly believing that if push came to shove, you could take on a walking corpse.

The air sticks in your lungs as the light flickers and the source of the footsteps becomes visible.

A man dressed only in boxers and a hospital gown stops in front of the door facing him, staring at the inscription that you can't read from your position.

He doesn't look like he likes to eat people for snacks, but you've learned the hard way that that doesn't have to mean anything, so you still stay as quiet as you can and watch him slowly reach out for the door, from which a muffled groan can be heard.

Dead or not, don't let this guy open the door.

If need be, you can take him on, but certainly not the ones he'd most likely let through the door, so you take a big step toward him and yell, "No, don't."

He flinches violently and jerks his head around to look at you as if you were the undead.

Still keeping enough distance from him, you say, "Keep the door closed" hoping he's alive and understands what you've just said.

To your relief, he still looks like he's about to pick up his feet and run, but he replies, "What's behind there?"

The fact that he can speak is proof enough for now that he's normal, and you relax a bit.

Only now do you really look at him and discover a bandage wrapped around his waist, which you point to, "You're in the hospital for that, aren't you?"

Confused, he looks down at himself, as if he's forgotten that he doesn't look like he's just been here for a short visit, and then nods, "I got shot."

You take another cautious step toward him, "You have no idea what's going on. Can it be?"

Again he looks at you helplessly and confused beyond measure, "This must be a dream. A coma dream. I'm not awake at all."

Dryly you laugh out, "It would be nice. But no, you're wide awake and probably just slept through how it all started, Sleeping Beauty."

You feel tremendously sorry for the panic in his beautiful blue eyes, but the sooner he understands what's going on, the sooner you might have a helping hand, too. It goes against the grain for you to admit this, but the fact is that it might not be such a bad thing to have a man by your side who's a few heads taller than you.

Now that it's a matter of life and death, you can't afford to be picky, but you still ask again about his bullet wound, "Where did you get that?"

You hope he's not a gangster or a rapist. True, he doesn't look like it, but as you said before, you shouldn't just trust appearances.

His gaze slides over your body and he says softly, "I'm a Sheriff and I got caught in a shooting."

You exhale heavily and actually give him the benefit of the doubt, "Would you like to come with me? I can explain what happened while you were in a coma, Sheriff."

Farm

Smiling, you look to Dale sitting high atop his RV, "I can help you."

The old man loves being able to watch over everyone from above and you know that for a fact, but you love it at least as much as he does. That's why you don't even wait for him to answer and climb so far up to look over the edge at him.

He probably didn't even hear you and looks spellbound through his binoculars. With a furrowed brow you follow the direction he is looking and can see two people without recognizing who it is.

You clear your throat loudly and Dale flinches in surprise.

When he looks at you, you raise an eyebrow and grin, "I don't know exactly what you're looking at, Dale, but I doubt very much that it's a possible threat to our group."

Quietly, he murmurs, "I wouldn't be so sure if I were you."

Confused, you brace yourself on the roof and sit cross-legged next to him, "What are you talking about?"

"See for yourself," sighing, he hands you the binoculars and you reluctantly take them to see what he's getting at.

It takes you a small moment before you find the two people he's been watching, and you bite your lower lip as you recognize Rick's curls and his back.

By the way he's standing, he's partially shielding the person he's talking to, but even from that, you know full well it's his wife Lori.

Sighing, you hand Dale his binoculars and shrug, "They're just talking. That doesn't have to mean there's trouble in paradise."

The old man next to you snorts in disbelief, "Girl, you haven't fallen on your head. Nothing at all is going well between those two anymore, and it's tearing our group apart piece by piece."

You know he's not wrong, but because Rick is your best friend, you keep your mouth shut.

But Dale really gets into it, "You can't tell me you don't see the way Shane looks at Lori. At some point, it's going to pop, and it's going to end badly."

You grit your teeth.

Of course you see it, and you have a guess or two about what happened when Lori thought Rick died in the hospital, but you don't know anything for sure, and you'd think it unfair to saddle Rick with more guesses and possibilities when he already has his hands full.

So you say unnaturally calmly, "Dale, you have no idea what they're talking about, and even if it's not a good conversation, Rick will make sure it doesn't turn into a big problem for the group."

Briefly, something flashes in your old friend's eyes and he sighs softly, "I know, kiddo. Rick is a good man. It's not for me to judge, but he deserves someone better."

Your eyes dart to the two figures in the distance, but they're gone and you shrug, "Possibly."

Silently you look at each other and you cry out softly when you hear Rick's voice from downstairs, "Darling? Are you upstairs?"

Dale grins broadly at you and murmurs, "Lori doesn't like it when he calls you that."

Unwittingly, your cheeks grow warm and you slap his upper arm, "Shut up."

Hectically, you scoot to the edge of the RV and look down at Rick: "Yep, what's up?"

The way he looks up at you makes your heart sink to the floor, and then when he also asks in a raspy voice, "Can I talk to you?" Wouldn't you know a situation where you wouldn't drop everything to be there for him.

You nod at him and smile at Dale: "I'll be back later."

But he shakes his head, "I'm not counting on it, kiddo."

You can't suppress the rolling of your eyes, and instead of answering, you make your way downstairs to Rick.

When you reach the last two rungs of the ladder, Rick grabs you by the waist and lifts you down from the RV.

Instead of letting go of you right away, he pulls you back against his chest and presses a kiss to your cheek, which makes you giggle softly and you lightly slap his hands to get him to let go of you, which he reluctantly does.

Holding you in his arms has always felt right to him, and he wouldn't stop anytime soon.

He just has to touch you as soon as you come near him. Whether it's an arm wrapped around your shoulder or even just a little touch on your lower back.

God, it's enough for him to pull a leaf out of your hair like this while you look at him with your beautiful eyes.

Gently, you stroke his chest with the flat of your hand, smoothing down his shirt, "What do you want to talk to me about, Sheriff?"

As you do, your eyes slide from his face to your hand and you notice how dirty his shirt has already become, "Rick? You're going out with Shane tomorrow aren't you? If you'd like you can give me your shirt then and I'll wash it for you...That is, of course, if Lori hasn't already offered."

You look back up at him and he just stares at you.

The RV is close behind your back and Rick is standing very close to you as he usually does, which adds a little too much tension to the situation and you take a step toward him to push past him on the left and maintain decorum.

For a brief and naive second, Rick thinks of something he shouldn't be thinking about and then in turn takes a step to the side as well before clearing his throat so as not to sound as hoarse as he probably would, "You want to wash my shirt?"

He sounds so surprised you chuckle, "You say that like it's something amazing. We're friends Rick. Of course I'll wash your shirt if you want. You're incredibly busy, so it's the least I can do, and I can help you out with it."

You grin at him, "And maybe I'm a little selfish too, because you're prettier to look at when you're wearing clean clothes."

His heart warms and he hasn't felt this way in a long time...so wanted and appreciated for all he has given up for the group.

And all because you offered to wash his stupid shirt.

He takes a deep breath and reaches for your hand, "Can we go to your tent, darling?"

Concerned, your grin falls from your face and you bite your lower lip, "Of course. Come."

Gently, you pull him behind you to your tent, which is set up near the others.

You realize this must be about the conversation Rick had with Lori, and Rick's grip on your hand is so incredibly tight that you can feel how agitated he is, and maybe a little afraid he's going to crush your fingers.

Even though you can barely move your fingers, you don't say a word about it and open the tent.

That's the moment Rick lets go of your hand and you crawl inside in front of him.

He doesn't really want to, but as soon as you're on all fours, his gaze slides to your butt and he squints his eyes hard, trying to keep it together.

Partly because he's still married, no matter what Lori has done, and partly because he doesn't want to jeopardize the friendship you have because of some knee-jerk reaction.

He adores you far too much for that.

So he forces himself to think clearly again and crawls behind you into the inside of the little tent.

Because Rick is so much bigger than you, he takes up an incredible amount of space in the cramped room, but you don't mind.

It's nice to have him close to you and you reach for his hands as if it were a matter of course, "So, what's up, Sheriff?"

His eyes are fixed on your hands as he mutters, "Lori slept with Shane when I was in the hospital where we met. She thought I was dead. She...I..."

You squeeze his hands, "Shhhh, it's okay. Take your time."

He sighs softly and you gently tug on his hands, making him look up questioningly.

Slowly you lean back and as you lie flat on your back, you pull him down to you.

At first he hesitates, but when he looks into your loving eyes, he can't help himself and lets himself sink onto you.

Because the tent is so small, he doesn't try to crush you too, but you release a hand from his and press his head firmly but firmly to your chest.

Rick closes his eyes as his cheek comes to rest in the hollow between your breasts, expecting you to push him higher or a tad lower, but you don't seem to mind him lying on your breasts and as he hears your regular heartbeat, he relaxes more and more until he's able to get out coherent sentences again without bursting into tears, "You know what the real problem is, darling? Somehow I don't care that she slept with him. She told me and I didn't care. Shit, I even suspected it, and the only thing I thought about when she confirmed it, was how to get us all through the winter."

You stroke through his hair in slow motions and he leans harder into your touch, "And instead of supporting me, she tells me and expects a due response. As if I don't have a hundred other thoughts in mind. How twisted is that, please? I don't care about my wife and I'd rather think about the fact that I don't know how to handle the pressure of making life and death decisions. Decide your life and your death."

For a brief moment you wait to see if he wants to say anything else, but instead he presses himself tighter against your body, as if he can't stand to be away from you, and you tickle through his curls, which seems to please him as you whisper in a husky voice, "You're not twisted, Rick. You're giving it everything you've got, and there's nothing wrong or amiss with the way you feel. Don't beat yourself up because you might feel differently than it would be socially acceptable to react to a woman cheating on you. You feel what you feel and there's nothing you can do about that, nor do you have to."

You tug lightly on his curls, eliciting a soft groan from him before murmuring in a buttery smooth voice, "And yes Rick, you make choices but we all know you make the ones you feel are right and everyone sees your efforts. No one would ever blame you and you shouldn't blame yourself. You look out for us as best you can and in return I'll look out for you as best I can. I promise."

He feels tears coming to his eyes, and he's not really the type of man to start crying quickly. Especially not with a second person.

But it surprises him himself that he doesn't care with you and isn't ashamed at all as he buries his face between your breasts and lets out everything that's been building up since the hospital and lets you stroke his hair until he falls asleep on top of you.

Prison

You brush your hair out of your face as you step into the anteroom of your jail cells and hear Rick's raucous laughter.

When you see him sitting at the table with Hershel and Glenn, you can't help but smile broadly. Not too long ago, Rick was way too close to the abyss, and now seeing him so relaxed and at ease makes your heart leap.

Slowly you walk towards the happy group and frown as you watch Glenn waving his arms trying to explain something. The situation looks so funny that you don't notice the alcohol bottles on the table until now, and you realize why Rick is swaying and Glenn looks like he's fighting a battle against invisible flies.

But when Rick sees you he immediately tries to get up and almost knocks over the whiskey on the table, if Hershel hadn't grabbed it first.

Stumbling, he comes toward you and slurs, "Darlin'."

As soon as he can reach for you, he pulls you into his arms and you can't suppress a giggle, "Could it be that you're drunk, Sheriff?"

He keeps his hands on your hips as he pulls away from you and half turns to the people sitting at the table, "Am I? I don't know."

Hershel, who is the only one sober, throws me a pitying smile and I stand on my tiptoes to breathe a kiss on Rick's cheek.

Immediately he turns his attention back to me and I tug on his belt loop, "Will you let me go? I'd like to get some sleep."

The smile he gives me is mischievous and makes him seem much younger than he is, "Haven't you noticed?"

You frown and he winks at you awkwardly, due to the alcohol in his blood, "I never want to let you go."

Again you tug at his pants, "You probably don't even realize right now how incredibly wrong that sounded. On any level." Still, you can't stop laughing.

But just as he said, he doesn't let go of you and instead pulls you to his seat at the table.

He plops down in his seat and fits you tighter so he can pull you onto his lap, but you brace yourself, "Rick, I want to go to sleep."

You didn't know how good he was at pouting until now and you swallow hard as he looks at you with his blue eyes, "Darlin' please. Stay with me a little longer. Then I'll come to bed with you."

You sigh, "Rick..."

And he tugs on your hip again, "Please? I can only sleep with you."

You are well aware of the looks the others are giving you. Even though everyone knows that Rick and you share a bed, even though you're just friends, it's still strange to see him begging in this way while you're not alone.

With everyone else, he's always the somewhat cocky leader, and once he's alone with you, you feel like you could ask him to crawl on the floor and he'd do it for you.

You lower your voice a bit and stroke his dark curls, "That doesn't mean I'm kicking you out of bed, Rick."

You immediately see that he's ready to argue, but before he can say anything, Merl, who has recently come to live with you, walks in and laughs harshly, "So big Rick Grimes is begging to sleep in bed with a chick who won't even let him fuck her."

You couldn't care less what Merl normally has to say, but Rick is already not controlled when he's sober, and now that he's drunk, even the minimum level of control is lost.

Thanking God you react quickly enough to push Rick back onto his butt by the shoulders and hiss, "Shut up, Merl."

Grinning, he takes a step closer, "Oh come on. He can take it. If you don't want him anymore, you're welcome to come over to my place. It's just that I'm more into it when chicks beg me to fuck them."

You grab Rick firmly by the hair as he tries to get back up and drag him down as he growls, "You miserable asshole."

You look to Glenn for help, but he's looking spellbound at the scene in front of him and Merl is far from done, "What's Rick? Afraid you're going to sleep alone tonight?"

You can see it very clearly. You see when the last fuse blows on Rick and you grit your teeth and tug at his hair so hard that he has to look at you and you say quietly, "Forget him, Rick. I ain't going nowhere."

Merl laughs harshly and you wheel around to him, "And what's your problem? Do you really need it that bad? Laughing at Rick asking me to sleep in a bed with him and not having anyone with you yourself, am I seeing this right? You need to come on to me in that disgusting way, but let's get one thing straight: Before I come to bed with you, I'd rather sleep alone in the woods, and you know what's funny? You might think it's pathetic that Rick sleeps in a bed with me and doesn't nail me, but guess who's going to be lying in bed pressed up against a woman's body afterwards, touching me however he pleases? Right! Not you."

Merl stares at you with his mouth open and Rick is already starting to get up again when Hershel blinks several times and stands up, "Okay, let's all calm down and take a deep breath. Merl, I think it's best if you leave now."

For a brief moment, you think he's going to say something stupid again, but you glare defiantly at him and he softly growls something about "fucking whore" before disappearing and you drop onto Rick's lap with a deep sigh.

It stays quiet until you grumble, "Aren't you going to keep drinking?"

Rick wraps his hands around your stomach and pulls you closer to his chest, "Darlin'..."

Again you sigh, "Rick, give it a rest."

You don't feel like talking about it anymore, and as another attempt is made to address you, you turn your head in his direction and mumble lazily in his ear, "It's all right. If you're thinking about what Merl said, forget it. I like how soft you are to me. Only to me."

With the words, you kiss him briefly behind the ear and then turn your gaze back to the whiskey bottle, "Okay, I could use a drink."

All the while you remain sitting on Rick's lap, letting him push you back and forth when you sometimes get too heavy for him in the long run.

Only once do you slide closer to him yourself, but where he immediately grabs you tighter and slurs harshly in your ear, "Don't, Darlin'."

You know full well that your cheeks are getting hot and you quickly excuse yourself before he pushes you back into another spot.

The bottle doesn't last long, and as Hershel announces that he wants to get into bed, everyone else starts moving as well.

Rick, who had been swaying before, leans on you with his full weight and you're also drunk enough that you can't quite walk straight.

Giggling and stumbling, you drop onto the bed and you slide against the wall as you always do, while you kick your shoes off your feet and Rick unhandily peels himself out of his pants.

You watch him do it, as you have every time since you first fell asleep together.

It's not just Rick who can sleep better with you. You also love his weight on you and the heat he radiates.

Sluggishly, he crawls into bed with you and slides between your legs to rest his head on your breasts.

Under his lashes, he looks up at you, "Thank you."

You bite your lower lip and stroke his curls as you always do, "For what, Sheriff?"

Quietly, he clears his throat, "For what you said to Merl."

His hand slides over your hip bone and you feel the touch all the way down to your toes as you take a shaky breath, "It's just the truth."

He turns his head a bit and puts his hand just below your chest and for the first time you hope he would move his hand higher.

Even if it was just by accident.

But he stays still and mumbles, "Still. You didn't have to do that, and that's why I thank you."

You can't bring yourself to say a word, and you don't need to, because Rick falls asleep on top of you a short time later, too.

Alexandria

You stretch out on the bed and blink against the sun that falls into the bedroom you share with your boyfriend Rick.

Grumbling, Rick presses a kiss to your bare stomach and looks up at you from below, "Everything alright, darling?"

Grinning, you look into his scrunched up face and push his hair a little flatter on his head because his curls are sticking out in all directions, "Yes, Rick."

The golden light of the rising sun shines on him in a way that makes it look like he's surrounded by a halo, and you stare at him dreamily.

Never could you put into words how much you love him and have for a long time.

Already on the farm you were addicted to him, only you never realized it and then he told you in prison that he loves you and not only sees you as his best friend. Never having seen you only as his best friend and you couldn't help but fall head over heels for a relationship with the stubborn and impulsive leader of your group.

After the war with Negan, things are quiet and you enjoy the mornings you spend together in bed maybe even a little too much.

Still you just look at him and he rests his chin on your stomach and puts his hands on the sides of your naked breasts.

Along the way, he paints little circles on them with his thumbs, paying no attention to your nipples, which immediately perk up as he looks at you questioningly with his bright eyes, "Do I have something on my face?"

And smiling at him, "No, sorry."

Again he breathes a kiss on your skin, "You don't have to apologize. I like it when you look at me like that."

Lazily you put your hands to his cheeks and gently tug on his beard, "Hmmm, how do I look at you?"

His smile we lascivious, "Like you were waiting for round two from last night."

Giggling, you tug harder on his beard, "Maybe."

Before he can push himself over you, though, you murmur softly, "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

Immediately he sees the uncertainty in your eyes and pauses for a moment, "Did I do something wrong?"

Of course, he looks to blame himself first. Always at himself first.

So you quickly shake your head and nervously bite your lower lip, "No, no. That's not the point."

Slowly, he slides off of you to rest on his elbow beside you, "What's wrong, darling?"

You can't stand it when he doesn't touch you and instead place your own hand on his chest, "We're safe here, Rick."

He sighs deeply, "Darling, I have no idea what you're getting at."

You realize you're beating around the bush, but you don't have the heart to just say it, so you go wide again, "You're a great dad."

Rick grabs your chin and pushes your head up so you can't avoid his gaze: "Okay, now tell me what's going on or I'm going to lose it."

Shakily, you exhale, "Would you like to have a baby with me?"

Rick freezes.

His hand slips from your chin and he swallows hard, "You want a baby?"

Unsure, you blink up at him, "Yeah? If you don't want to, that's okay too. We don't have to do anything you don't-" His lips are on yours.

Surprised, you moan into the kiss and Rick slides his body over yours.

It's similar to the feeling of him laying on top of you so he can sleep only then he's not pressing his hips into a very specific spot and he's certainly not humming in your ear, "I sure as hell want a baby and I'm all for getting it on right now, darling."

Your heart hammers in your chest and you gasp softly, "Okay."

You move your hands to his shoulder blades and press your fingers into them as he turns to your neck and spreads wet kisses over your sensitive skin.

He's so warm and hard on you that it feels like your own skin is too small for you and you start to squirm under him, "Don't drag it out, Rick. Please."

He chuckles against your neck and slides between your legs so you can feel his cock where you need it most.

Roughly, you moan and push yourself further toward him, but he presses you back down on the bed with his free hand and murmurs hoarsely, "Easy. Wait a moment. I don't want to hurt you, darling."

Rick lifts his head and the love and admiration in his eyes makes you giddy and you nod slightly, "Okay."

Smiling, he presses a soft kiss to your lips and positions himself so that his tip is pressing against you and you shakily try to suppress pushing Rick against his handsome ass with your heels so that he is finally inside you.

His lips hover over yours as he penetrates you inch by inch, whispering over and over how much he loves you.

It's not the freakiest sex you've ever had, and it's not the hardest, but the way he doesn't take his eyes off you for a second and is so deep inside you that it feels like he's perpetuating himself inside you makes it the best sex you've ever had.

Every little touch of his hands on your body is pure intimacy and you have to pull yourself together not to start crying with happiness.

Then, when he kisses you hard on the mouth and you chase your climax together, you can't control yourself and shuffle into the kiss, "Rick, I love you. I love you so much."

He looks into your eyes briefly before leaning over you and kissing the tears on your cheek, "I know, darling. I know."

You grab his cheek and pull him back to your mouth, wishing this moment would never end.

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