rae rae

Rafe Cameron had always been social, he had a huge friendgroup, and everyone on Kildare knew him.

He was Rafe Cameron.

But whenever he was with you, he became quiet and reserved, like he didn't care about you at all.

Like you just were another one of the crazy girls who followed him around on the club, their only goal being to get under his pants.

It wasn't like that at all, you loved him, he was just, Rafe.

Your conversations with him were always short, rarely meant anything and had no dept whatsoever.

But the second your clothes left your body, everything changed and he became a whole other person.

Right now was a moment like that, your clothes were scattered across the floor. Rafe had you on your back, your thighs spread around his waist as he pushed inside you in one slow, deep thrust.

That's when he talked to you, really talked.

– "Fuck, so tight" he moaned, voice low and rough, hips rolling in a steady rhythm. "Fuck.. i've been thinking about this pussy all day"

Your eyes widened, even if it wasn't the first time it happened.

He always did this.

He never spoke in real life but when he had you like this? Oh the words just kept coming, one after one, each one only filthier than the last.

– "Look at me you slut!" He ordered, one hand gripping you chin so that you couldn't look away from him. "Oh you've missed my cock, I fucking know you have"

– "Yes" you gasped, you didn't really have a choice. He actually interacted with you, now he wasn't particularly being nice but oh he could be a lot worse.

He smirked, leaning down, lips brushing your ear as he drove deeper. – "Fuck, you're taking me so well" he groaned, "say it louder, tell me how good I make you feel"

You moaned out his name and he groaned once again in response to the pretty sounds leaving your mouth.

He picked up his pace, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. – "Do you even know how deep I am? You're squeezing me so tight" he kissed you again.

You couldn't help but enjoy the moment, the person you loved most was finally giving you attention. But a part of you ached at the fact that he only ever cared about your body.

Not really about you.

He continued praising you, – "Oh baby, you're so pretty, making such a mess all over me"

One of his hands slid down, fingers finding you clit, circling it as he kept thrusting in desperate motions.

You cried out, your back arching.

He smiled, – "Yeah, right there?" He spoke in a low, rough voice in a tone only Rafe could have.

He kept thrusting, his rhythm not faltering for one second. – "That's it baby, come for me"

Oh he sounded so proud, too proud.

You clenched around him as you came, and he kept fucking you through it, slowing down just enough to let you breathe before picking up his speed again.

– "I love you," he begun, "gonna cum inside you" he continued speaking, hips thrusting at an even faster pace.

I love you.

Oh he hadn't said those words in a long time.

He came with a loud groan, and then he kept speaking. – "You always take me so well, feel so good around me, shit i've missed you"

You smiled at him, you hadn't had a real conversation with him in weeks—and now, that the house was empty and he finally had you in his bed, you mattered to him.

It was sudden, it was fake—and everything he said was so insanely thought through that it almost scared you.

He spoke as if he loved you, as if you were his everything, so that you would want to stay. For him, for yourself.

As if he was the perfect boyfriend he so badly wanted people to think he was.

He was barely a boyfriend, just a fling.

A fling you had been seeing for over a year, a fling you only ever met in the bedroom.

He wasn't the perfect dream boy everyone saw him as.

But atleast he cared.

Even if just a little bit, it was more than he needed to.

Cause you were down bad for him. And you couldn't escape your feelings, no matter how hard you tried.

you and Rick had gone on a supply run together, which had quickly took a different turn than either of you had expected. 

and honestly, neither of you really knew why you had decided to do it while out on a run, but it didn’t matter as he pushed into you in one smooth thrust. 

his left hand was on the wall beside your head while his right was wrapped around your throat, pulling you back against his chest. 

you moaned with every thrust he gave, making his hand squeeze around your throat in a silent warning. 

“shh sweetheart, don’t wanna attract a herd”

Rick murmured against your ear, giving another sharp thrust of his hip while you tried to fight off your moans. 

“Rick.. feels too good”

he chuckled softly against your ear, humming low in his throat while your eyes screwed shut.  

you pushed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as his hands squeezed around your throat to pull you back further against him. 

“so wet for me baby”

his hips bucked forwards again, his pace sharp and punishing as you moaned out at every thrust he gave. 

you mewled, both hands reaching for his arms to try and steady yourself. 

he smirked down at you, his pace unrelenting as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the otherwise empty hallway. 

“that feel good?”

Rick murmured against your ear, giving your throat another squeeze before you were moaning out again, louder and more desperate. 

his lips curled into a smirk, his left hand falling away from the wall to hold your hip in place. 

“gonna attract a herd if you keep moaning like that”

at his words, his hand moved from your throat to cover your mouth, muffling your moans as his thrusts continued. 

he angled his hips, hitting that one spot over and over and sending you hurtling towards your climax. 

“Rick..”

his name was muffled against his hand, highlighting the slap of skin on skin that filled the hallway. 

your walls fluttered around him, already starting to dance just out of arms reach. 

it was needy, everything about it. especially letting Rick fuck you so openly like this. 

“fuck sweetheart, you gonna cum?”

you nodded weakly, hands grabbing at his arms again as his thrusts picked up their pace, pushing you closer and closer towards the edge. 

with every thrust Rick gave, your walls fluttered around him and pulled him in closer, already nearing his own climax. 

he angled his hips again, hitting that one spot with more force, leaving you on the edge with a needy moan. 

“close Rick..”

his lips pressed to the corner of your jaw, moving his hand from your mouth to wrap around your throat again, squeezing slightly while his other hand slipped to the apex of your thighs. 

Rick pressed two fingers to your clit, drawing tight figure eights into it while you mewled and writhed against him, his fingers moving in time with every thrust of his hips. 

he hit that one spot with another sharp thrust, sending you careening over the edge with a cry of his name. 

“fuck that’s it baby”

the feeling of your walls spasming around his cock had his thrusts faltering, his pace growing sloppy as he chased his own high. 

your walls fluttered sensitively around him, making his thrusts fall shallow as he chased that high he only managed to find in the warmth of your cunt. 

Rick grunted, burying his face against the back of your neck as he followed you over the edge with a moan of his own, spilling himself into your warmth with a breathless call of your name into your neck. 

“fuck baby”

Rick held you up with him, his lips pressing kisses along your jaw until he was giving you a half kiss as he stayed buried inside you. 

carefully, after a minute, he pulled out of your warmth, making you both hiss at the loss of the intimate connection between you. 

you could hear Rick tuck himself back into his jeans, working his belt closed before he helped righten your clothes. 

“always gonna take care of you”

he turned you towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck while his arms wrapped around your waist. 

Rick leaned in, stealing another kiss from you before he was whispering against your lips. 

“even if we’re on a run together, i’ll always take care of you”

Spencer had been circling you all day, constantly checking on you. Offering endless glasses of water or lemonade which you politely declined until the sun began to set and you were thankful to be at home.

As usual on a Friday, Deanna hosted a small get together at her house. You were smoothing over your outfit when a soft knock to your front door startled you.

A heavy sigh as you peered through the keyhole, Spencer with hands behind his back anxiously awaiting your arrival.

This new found interest in you, was held in the pinkness of his cheeks. The small bouquet of wild flowers tightly held in his hands and a sickly sweet smile when the door opened.

Placing the flowers in a small glass of water before joining him in the early sunset of that spring sun. Feeling slightly anxious as you hadn't seen Rick since that night and this attention from Spencer put you on edge.

Walking together towards his mother’s dinner party was more awkward than his persistent check ins. Your arms swung in perfect sync which made your stomach turn, trying your hardest to keep your distance.

Rick was already sitting at the table when Spencer opened the door, your eyes found his. A glint of annoyance and something unreadable in them.

Spencer pulled your chair out, being the perfect gentlemen. The complete opposite of Rick and you noticed the daggers he shot towards Spencer.

As the wine bottles scattered across the table began to quickly empty, the flirtatious nature of Spencer increased. Leaning over to talk to you, his feet finding your leg under the table.

Rick swirled his glass as he stared between you both, only partly connecting to the conversations around him. Until another glass was poured and you heard a whisper from Rosita.

“Is someone jealous?” Her voice low and teasing, following his gaze towards you and Spencer.

The flirting from him was obvious, the wine in everyone’s system had exposed the hidden personalities. Rick clearly didn’t notice that you weren’t exactly flirting back, the comments and glances were one sided.

He hadn’t spoken more than a couple of sentences to you over the past couple of days, trying to create a distance between you. Mentioning something about how risky things had been lately but as you stole glances in his direction, he was the one who was being risky.

Jealously oozed out of him, gripping onto the glass of wine so tight that you were afraid it would shatter. Yet he deemed you to be the risky one.

Trying to hide your amusement as you watched him glare at Rosita, subtly shaking his head in response and taking another sip of wine.

“No, just sure about him” he mumbled between the glass.

Rosita didn’t comment again but her expression was that she didn’t believe a word of it.

They always had an underlying beef which had never resolved itself and this was going to make it worse. Thankfully the dinner went smoothly, Rick’s eyes didn’t falter further than on yours.

He had no right to be acting as possessive as he was, this was the man who could make you feel sexually fulfilled but couldn’t spend the sleep next to you.

Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek when you offered your goodbyes with the rest of the group, Rick had downed another glass of wine as he watched.

When the rest of the group disappeared to their separate houses, his hand firmly found your wrist and pulled you into him.

“I nearly got caught out at dinner” he mumbled against your cheek, eyes dark and stormy.

“Oh yeah, Mr. Mysterious over here?” You teased, prodding him in the chest which he knocked away with his hand.

Feeling rather tipsy as you stood between the two houses, his lips hoovered very close to yours. The cool air filled your lungs, eyes staring into his before he kissed you.

Roughly, his hands cupping your face as he panted. Forehead pressed against yours, the desperation was evident just from this movement.

Pulling away from him, your hand loosely in his as you snuck around the back of your house.

The flowers were drooping in the tall glass on the counter, streetlights illuminating the blinds on the kitchen sink. Rick’s footsteps were quiet against the floor as his eyes fell onto the flowers.

Without speaking to you, he poured the contents in the sink. Jealousy and annoyance oozed from his pores as he rested his back against the kitchen.

“You shouldn’t be spending time with him,” Rick spat, his knuckles turning white from gripping the sink.

”Well Rick, this might come as a surprise to you but you can’t tell me what to do” you shrugged, slurring your words slightly.

“Is that so?” He said in a teasing tone, pushing away from the kitchen sink.

The streetlights from the window hid his facial expressions but your eyes stayed on him, fingers tingling with excitement. The desperation grew more intense with each small step.

His fingers came up to cup your chin, your eyes didn’t meet his. Pinching your cheeks now, forcing you to look at him. The wine was hot on his lips when he kissed you, rough and passionate.

You couldn’t hold in your moan as his hand stayed on your cheek, Rick knew your weak spots. The things that would quieten you, make your knees tremble.

His lips nibbling from your ear towards your collarbones, sucking on the skin just enough not to leave a mark.

Fingers looping over your underwear, slowly moving through your bush and between your legs.

“Already so wet for me” he mumbled, the same teasing tone.

You whimpered, your clit throbbing at the flirtation in his voice. He moved you so your back was pressed against the kitchen counter. Hands gripping onto the side for support, tingling from lack of friction.

”need you” you panted as his hand spanked your clit once and twice.

This made you gasp and jerk at the action, your cheeks flushed at your own desperation. Spencer’s attempts at flirting earlier that day were nothing compared to this.

Panties pooling around your ankles, in the dim lighting Rick Grimes dropped to his knees and peppered your clit with kisses before his hands found their way to your pussy.

His rough hands starting from your clit towards your entrance, thrusting a finger inside you. Between the moans, you clenched around his finger. Aching for friction but all he did was watch you.

Growing more and more desperate, he slowly inserted a second finger. Spreading them out in a V shape, quickening the pace until you needed more.

His lips were kissing up your stomach, goosebumps pricking your skin as your pussy ached. Biting your lip to avoid pleading for Rick, he didn’t deserve to hear you beg.

Perched on the edge of the counter with your hands either side of your thighs, head tipped back against the cabinet. Rick’s eyes bore into yours, the feeling of him inserting another finger.

Three fingers inside you now, stretching you out. It felt uncomfortable at first, feeling stuffed as he thrusted them in and out. His thumb hitting your clit with the quick movement.

“You’ll stop flirting with him?” He asked suddenly, stopping all movement.

You blinked trying to comprehend the seriousness of the switch, you were on the edge of your orgasm with four fingers inside your aching cunt.

Ignoring the question first, rocking your hips back and forth to get the same friction you were missing. Whimpering now in desperation, throbbing around his fingers.

“Who?” You dared to ask, your voice shaking in agony.

A smirk spread across his face at your attempt at talking back, very slowly he removed one of his fingers. Watching as you cried at the feeling, three fingers wasn’t enough.

“I’ll remove each finger until you behave” he threatened, that glint in his eye.

Your eyes flickered, breath trembling as you rock back and forth on his fingers. So needy for more than what he was giving you, everything was in his control as you tried to get yourself off.

Shaking your head in denial, a pained “no” escaped your lips. Biting your lips as he slowly began to move the three fingers still inside you. Clearly teasing you, showing you your reward for behaving.

“Thank you thank you thank you” you sighed at the change in movement.

It felt good to not have to do it yourself but the sensation was short lived, Rick curled his fingers inside you before stopping completely.

Leaving you once again on the cusp of your orgasm, eyes heavy and palms gripping on the counter.

“Answer my question baby and then you can cum” he teased again, the corners of his lips turned up at his request.

Your lips quivered, the lack of friction was intense. You needed to be stuffed full of his fingers which meant you were going to have to beg.

“I won’t flirt with him anymore, even though I wasn’t” you said in defiance, knowing this would get you in trouble.

His spare hand moved from your hip bone and spanked down onto your clit. You cried out at the sudden jolt of pain, clit stinging as he spanked it once more.

“Answer me properly” he said sternly, his hand hovering just above your sore clit.

Shaking your head with refusal, he spanked your clit until you were on the verge of tears. Rocking back and forth on his fingers, his voice was louder.

“I will not flirt with him” your voice shook as you stumbled on your words.

Blinking away the tears as you looked up at Rick, feeling the overstimulation from your throbbing clit and empty pussy.

“Don’t cry pretty girl, you can get your reward now” he cooed, wiping away your tears with a kiss.

Finally inserting his fourth finger and without hesitating, he began to thrust them in and out of your pussy. Curling them, hitting against your soft spot.

The familiar sensation pooled in your lower stomach, hands gripping onto his hair now. As his mouth clamped around your clit and he began to suck.

“I’m gonna cum” you whined loudly, eyes squeezed shut as you focused.

Unraveling yourself on his fingers and mouth, his moans sending a pattern of vibrations across your clit. Eyes rolling back as you panted through your orgasm.

The sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your drenched pussy, his beard scratching against your bush and clit.

As your body shook, your clit pulsating as you came down from the high. He slowly removed each finger, one by one until you were clecnhing from the lack.

His eyes met yours, holding the gaze as your eyes fluttered heavily panting as you caught your breath. Within seconds you were tasting yourself off his fingers, cum sticking to the small hair on his knuckles.

Removing his fingers once you had licked every last drop of your own cum off them as his finger dug into the side of your hip. His face now inches away from yours, the sound of his jeans landing on the floor.

The familiar movements of his cock thrusting in his right palm before his tip nudged your drenched cunt.

“Oh you’ve done so well. I think you still need to be taught a lesson” he groaned as his tip slid in easily.

Your fingers grasping onto him, lifting his formal dinner shirt as your nails dug in. His cock sliding deeper and deeper, stuffing you once more.

Pants became more inconsistent as you held onto him, thrusting against the edge of the kitchen counter. His hand perched behind your head to cover the sharp edge of the cabinet above you.

“Hmm, you feel so good baby. Not sure how much of a lesson this will be” he groaned into your ear, his beard touching your cheek.

Your cheeks flushed even more at the nickname, it sounded so good coming out of his mouth. Especially when his cock was stretching you.

He was right, there wasn’t going to be a lesson tonight. His cock twitched inside you, walls clenching hard around his throbbing cock. His moans were raspier by the second, you knew he wasn’t going to last any longer than this.

As he jerked his body quickly out of you, his hand thrusting his cock over your stomach. Groaning from the movement, his eyes stared into yours as you felt him hard onto your stomach.

His body nestled between your thigh, his cum sticking against his shirt as he pulled you in for a kiss. A lazy smile on his face as he spoke,

“You aren’t getting away with this one baby” his voice soft and huskier as he kissed you between words.

Resting your head against his shoulder, your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed happily. The wine and exhaustion had begun to sink in, unable to focus on Rick’s slight threat.

Despite showing similar signs of exhaustion, Rick snuck his arms tightly around your waist and picked you up. Legs tightening on his hips as your hands crossed behind his neck.

The faint smell of sweat and aftershave invading your nostrils as your head swayed against the harsh movements of his feet on each step.

He was gentle when he placed you under the covers of your bed, you sleepily felt him slip off your tight trousers. For once, he slid in the bed beside you.

It was warm and comfortable with his muscular arms holding you in place, tight as you moved closer to his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was relaxing, his palm resting just below your ribcage.

If you were more alert, this situation would be sending mixed signals and you would be wanting to ask Rick how he felt. But thankfully you were so tired, your eyes wouldn’t open for longer than a second.

The bed covers draped over the pair of you, Rick’s eyes were closed resting on your pillow. The smell would linger until the morning, making you question everything. Like you did every night.

He was still holding you when you drifted into sleep.

Rick gasped awake, the light flickered through the light curtains of the room that wasn’t his own. You were sleeping peacefully, nestled on his chest and his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Fuck” he whispered, carefully sliding from under you.

He was still careful to not wake you, placing the covers over your body. His movements were subtle as the buckle of his jeans slipped over his half naked body, his eyes watching as your chest rose and fell.

His mind was racing as he studied you once more before pushing his weight onto his tiptoes, trying to avoid the parts of your house that creaked. He had gotten familiar with how to place his feet on the way out of your house.

This mistake was going to cost him, the whole night had fallen into the gaps of the arrangement. No feelings, No jealousy and definately never sleeping over.

For the past couple of days, he had been successful in his attempts to avoid you but the dinner party was where Rick had begun to slip. The continuous glasses of wine, Spencer’s flirting and the possessiveness on his part. Rick was finding himself unrecognizable.

He had always told himself not to get attached but as he closed your door shut, the morning light glaring into eyes. He was worried it was too late.

Had feelings been caught?

The only way to ensure it didn’t go any further was to cut it off, but Rick had been horrific for the past few days until he saw you.

Could he really cut the arrangement? Or were more rules needed?

The one person who could help him with that was you but he wasn’t sure he could cope with the emotional turmoil and baggage of discussing it.

This was always about convenience for everyone, right? You were aware of his baggage and he had been clear on that, friends was nothing more than that.

As he rested his head back into the familiar comforts of his own bedroom, he couldn’t put the thoughts of bed. Maybe Rick was the confused one and it terrified him.

You pull away for a moment to catch your breath, Rick’s grasp still firm on either side of your face. You touch your lips softly with your fingers, feeling a little shy. 

“I-uh,” you stutter, Rick’s panting distracting you from your thoughts. 

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” Rick asks, the nickname disorienting you even more. 

You nod. 

“You sure?” He pushes.

You reassure him by kissing him again, climbing on top of his lap and straddling him. The already-hard bulge in his jeans is making you giggle into his mouth. 

“Listen, I’ve been thinkin’ about you – this – for a while. Cut an old man some slack, will ya?” Rick teases. 

“No more day dreaming then,” you palm him through the thick denim, getting even more excited when you feel how well endowed he is. 

Rick’s breath catches in his throat, huffing out a needy moan against your cheek. His breath is hot on your skin. Suddenly, he grabs both of your wrists in one hand, stopping you. He takes a deep breath, almost as though he was re-centering himself before speaking. 

 “Be patient for me, honey,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead, “wanna do this right.” You lean further into his touch, grinding your hips down onto him– wanting more. This makes him close his eyes and groan. 

“What d’you mean?” You ask with a shamelessly cute pout on your face. Rick wonders if you’re making this impossible on purpose. 

Knowing her, she definitely is, Rick thinks to himself.  

“Don’t want you thinkin’ this is all I want from you,” he squeezes your upper thigh, grazing over the zipper of your jeans as he says this. 

You feel a little disappointed at the thought of not getting to jump his bones right this second. You also admire how sweet it is that after all this time, Rick still wanted to try to take things slow with you.

“Okay, yeah” you say, trying to mask the fact that this is ever-so-slightly bruising your ego-- but you can’t help but blush at his reasoning. You card your fingers through his curls, holding intense eye contact with him. He leans in close to your ear, continuing to massage your thighs.

“You know I want you,” he says, voice low and gravelly, “I just don’t want to mess this up.” He’s earnest. 

“I know,” you say, matching his sincerity. 

“Let me do this right. Wanna take you on a date, pick you some flowers, a version of something normal, something nice. Yeah?” He sounds almost nervous as he says this. You sort of find it endearing. 

“That sounds really nice, Rick. I’d love that,” you say, leaning forward to give him a sloppy kiss on his scruffy cheek, earning a toothy grin from him. 

“Alright, then.” He says, sighing contently. He envelops you in his arms now, pulling you forward to lay on his chest. 

The two of you relish in the moment for a while, the comfortable silence calming your system. Any anger or resentment you felt towards him before this evening was slowly melting away. You don’t want to let him in too quickly, but you don’t want to shut him out either. 

Maybe he’s right about taking things slow, you ponder internally. 

The sun has nearly set now, you’d almost fallen asleep. However, you don’t want to overstay your welcome. You yawn and sit upright, still on his lap. 

“I should uh- be gettin’ home soon,” you say as though you have anyone waiting on you– you have a house to yourself in Alexandria. You peel yourself off of him and head towards his front door, bending down to put your shoes back on. 

He stands too, stretching his arms above his head (his exposed, curly happy trail distracting you for a split second). 

“Got places to be?” He asked, thinking maybe your night shift on the lookout had slipped his mind.

“Nope,” you say with a pop, “just thought you might enjoy an evening to yourself without the kiddos for once. Didn't wanna intrude.” 

A quiet moment passes. 

“I’d like it if ya did,” Rick says, a boyish look on his face, C’mon, just a little while longer?” he asks, grabbing both your hands and rubbing circles on your palms with his thumbs. 

You leaned against his door frame, staring up at him with a love sick look in your eyes. You debate with yourself for a moment, trying to figure out how to avoid pouncing on him if you’re here a second longer. 

Then you think to yourself- How could I say no to him when he’s looking at me like that?

“What’re we gonna do?” you ask. In that moment, you realize you and Rick have never really ‘hung out,’ before. There wasn’t time for anything like that until very recently. 

“You play cards?” He asks. 

“Used to, yeah,” you reply. 

“I found a deck on a run not too long ago. Carl wasn’t interested in learnin’ how to play anything, but I’m holdin’ on to ‘em hoping someone will indulge me,” he raises his eyebrows at you with a soft smile. 

“Can-do, Grimes,” you take off your shoes, again. 

~~~

You and Rick enjoy a few beers while you play Gin Rummy. For just a moment here with him at his kitchen table, you forget about the dead outside, you forget about any fight that inevitably awaits– all you can think about is if he’s holding onto the ace of hearts you need to win this game. 

“Y’know, there was a time not too long ago… that I didn’t think I’d ever get to do this again,” he says, voice low and a tinge vulnerable. 

“Do what?” You ask. 

“Just- this. Wasn’t sure I’d ever see a day where I was able to stop long enough to play cards again, have a drink or two,” he fiddles with the bottle cap from his beer, “Or enjoy someone’s company.”

 Anytime he starts to talk like this, you just listen; if Rick Grimes is opening up, you want to give him the space to do so. You move slowly, like he’s some stray dog and you’re trying to avoid scaring him off. 

The admission hits you like a truck. It’s as though he’d read your mind. 

“I get that,” you fiddle with the two remaining cards in your hand, “I’m having a really nice time, Rick,” you say, trying to assure him you were more than okay with not going any further than this tonight. 

His eyes scan the cards in his hand, grunting before begrudgingly discarding exactly what you’ve been waiting for. The ace of hearts. You try to mask the look of excitement on your face. 

It’s your turn now. You eagerly pick up his ace from the discard pile, join it with the two other aces already in your hand, and lay them down on the table. 

“Gin!” You say, excitedly. 

“Shit- I knew you were waitin’ on that card. Shoulda’ held onto it a little longer, dammit,” Rick hated losing, but he loved seeing you happy. 

“What do I get for winning?” You say with a devilish smirk on your face. 

Mustering every ounce of self-restraint he has, Rick lets out a soft laugh and scoots his chair out from the table a little bit, patting his thigh. 

You all but prance over to him and sit nicely on his lap, eagerly waiting for your reward. 

“Winners get kisses,” he says before greedily attaching his lips to yours. This time, you instantly part your lips for him, begging for him to explore you with his tongue. He obliges, licking and moaning shamelessly into your mouth. His hands wander all over your figure, mapping you out, memorizing you. 

God, if he kisses you much longer he won’t be able to stick to his plan– Rick is nothing if not a man of his word. He pulls back from the kiss, a large hand still tangled in your hair. Your pupils are blown out and your lips are sweetly swollen from his kiss.

He takes a mental picture. If this is how she looks now, imagine how she’ll look stuffed full of my cock. 

Rick internally scolds himself for the lewd thought. 

“I think I’m gettin’ sleepy, Rick,” you say truthfully. It was getting late, and the beers had caught up to you. He scratches at your scalp now and you nudge into his palm, almost cat-like. 

“I know, darlin’. Let me walk you home?” He asks. 

“I’d like that,” you say, smiling. 

You were about halfway back to your house when Rick laces his fingers with yours, squeezing once interlocked. The action makes your stomach tighten, even in your tired state. 

He walks you all the way to your front door step and gives you a chaste, sweet kiss on the lips. A kiss that said, there’s more where that came from, I promise. 

~~~

Over the course of the next week, you and Rick are like a couple of giddy high schoolers– sneaking around Alexandria between shifts to steal kisses from one another where no one can see, winking or smiling at each other from up in the watch towers. He’s even been coming to your porch every evening just to tell you goodnight and to, “see your pretty face one last time today.” 

~~~

It had been a little over a week since your conversation with Rick now. You were nearing the end of your shift in the garden when you heard a familiar pair of boots knocking against the pavement in your direction. Without turning around to face him, you speak. 

“‘Afternoon, officer,” you say, wrist deep in dirt as you turn the compost over. 

“How’d you know it was me?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“Those damn boots, they give you away every time,” you crane your neck around to look up at him from your crouched position. His thumbs are looped into his gun belt and that constable uniform is tight in all the right places. You make sure to keep eye contact, not letting your gaze go below his belt for long. 

Focus. 

“I was wonderin’ if you were free this evening after you finish up here?” he asks. He knows the answer, already having looked at your schedule.

“I sure am, what do you have in mind?” You ask, wondering if tonight could entail this so-called-date he promised. 

“I’ll come pick you up at 7, is that enough time for you to get ready?” 

“Plenty. I’ll see you then?” You try to hide how excited you are, playing it as cool as you can. 

“Yes ma’am.” He affirms, walking away with a little more pep in his step than before. 

The rest of your shift at the garden is mindless. Your head is elsewhere– busied by daydreams of what tonight could hold. 

~~~

You take your time getting ready for your date with Rick. You took a long shower, scrubbing all the remaining dirt out from under your nails- of course you had a garden shift the same day as your date. 

Date, huh? You talk to yourself in your head. 

Your closet didn’t have much to choose from, it being mostly filled with practical things- a few pairs of jeans, a warm jacket for the winter, and a small variety of plain-colored shirts. 

As you file through your options you find just what you were looking for– a dress one of the Alexandrian women had given you to wear to the first dinner party at Deanna’s. Your group had arrived with only what was on your backs, you’d certainly not made room nor time for dresses before arriving at Alexandria. You still think about how kind she was to give it to you. Even now, it was still the only half-decent thing you owned. 

You put the dress on, admiring yourself in the mirror for a moment as you fix your hair. Seldom did you tend to your appearance these days, you’d forgotten how pretty you can be when you try a little bit. 

A knock at the door pulls you out of your thoughts and your stomach drops. 

Why am I so nervous?

You take a deep breath before stumbling your way down the stairs to the front door, unlocking it to reveal a sweet, smiling, clean-shaven Rick Grimes. 

His hands are clasped tight in front of his belt, holding a mix of wildflowers (and weeds) messily plucked together into a makeshift-bouquet. 

“Riiiiiick,” you draw his name out all sing-songy. The image of him walking around searching for these, squatting down and picking each bloom one by one has you just about melting. 

“These are for you, sweetheart,” he hands them to you, intentionally brushing his fingers over yours during the exchange. You blush, hard. He looks so handsome, it’s rare that you see him like this– a crisp off-white button up and a clean pair of black slacks, his usual boots, curls neatly laying on his neck. 

“Why thank you, sir,” you say, making an attempt at some first-date-formalities with him. Rick’s pants tighten when you call him that, but he decides to save that thought for later. 

“Anything for a pretty girl like you,” he says, stealing a kiss to your cheek, “You look beautiful by the way, this dress is quite nice.” His fingers play with the fabric around your shoulders. 

The two of you stand awkwardly in your kitchen for a moment until you finally break the silence.

“Sorry, I’ve uh- never done this before,” you admit.

“Done what?” he questions. 

“This- a date,” you say sheepishly. 

Rick is beside himself. He could understand not going on any dates in the last year or two, given the apocalyptic circumstances. But, before? He finds it hard to believe that no one has ever taken a girl like you out on a date. 

You can see the gears turning in his head, you interrupt his thinking. 

“–And no, I’m not a virgin. I just– no one from before ever really wanted me for more than just bedroom stuff, I guess,” you trail off, trying to figure out how to explain this to him in a way that didn’t feel totally humiliating. 

Suddenly, he feels all the more grateful for choosing to take his time with you the way he wanted to. He now has the opportunity to show you– for the first time– what it’s like to be treated right. Although Rick knows the point of tonight was to give him a chance to do some much-needed-grovelling with you, the added pressure of this being your first date makes him wonder if what he’d planned would be good enough. He pushes that thought aside as he takes your hands in his. 

“That’s a damn shame, honey. Those boys don’t know what they’re missin’,” he pulls you into his chest, embracing you for a moment, feigning some necessary confidence, “Let a real man show you how it’s done tonight, will you?” 

Your stomach twists into knots. You glance up at him with the most endearing expression on your face, and he can’t help but imagine what other looks of pleasure he might pull from you tonight. 

“C’mon, let’s head out. We’re not goin’ far,” he says, tugging your hand and leading you out the door. 

The two of you walk hand-in-hand toward the large tree that hangs over the lake; you spot a small backpack perched up against the tree trunk. 

“What have you got in there?” You giggle, poking him in the side.

He smiles, clearly pleased with himself that he’s fostered some giddy, girl-ish anticipation from you. He begins to unpack the bag, unfolding a tightly rolled blanket to lay flat on the ground. He pats the corner, gesturing for you to take a seat while he finishes setting up. 

He pulls out a lantern and a book of matches, a tupperware full of some food, a slightly dusty bottle of wine, and a deck of cards. You pull a puppy-dog-pout, eyes almost bleary as you look his way. The way you leap to hug him nearly knocks him over, but he quickly steadies the both of you. 

“Easy, darlin’,” he coos, stroking your hair gently. 

“Rick, this is- this is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me,” you say wholeheartedly. It was the truth. 

“I know it’s not much, but I’m workin’ with what I’ve got,” he admits, “even asked Carol to make us somethin’ homemade to eat. Didn’t wanna have you eatin’ canned beans on your first date,” he says with a hearty laugh. 

You beam at him, his every word making you swoon. 

The two of you enjoyed friendly banter while you ate, the warm glow of the lantern and the faint hint of moonlight cast over the water made for a rather intimate atmosphere.  

Brief touches are exchanged throughout the picnic-ish meal. He’d brush your hair out of your face, or place a hand on your lower back for a moment longer than usual. Though any soft or sweet version of you that existed vanished during your game of Gin Rummy. This was a re-match, and you were determined to go 2-0. 

He let you win this time, but he’d never tell you that. 

After you’d finished eating food and playing cards, he quietly moved up to sit against the tree, opening his legs for you to nestle there. You scoot closer to him– dress riding up a little bit in the process– and press your back to his chest. Being in this position with him reminds you of that night in the barn with Judith, how he’d kissed your head when he thought you were sleeping. 

Only this time you were fully awake; you tilt your neck back to rest your head on his shoulder, leaning to the side to sneak a kiss to his clothed bicep. You don’t see it, but he smiles.

The warmth of the day now long-gone, the two of you opt to pack up and make the short walk back to your house. You walk slowly, wishing the night wouldn’t end just yet. 

“I had a really, really nice time tonight, Rick,” you say sweetly, twiddling your fingers. 

“Me too, baby,” he replies. 

Baby, you think, that’s new. 

“Is this the part where you kiss me goodnight?” You say, always wanting more of him, but vowing to respect his timeline with you. 

He shakes his head no, lips brushing your ear as he speaks, “this is the part where I get what I’ve been waitin’ for,” his grip on your waist tightens as he yanks your hips to meet his. 

“God, finally,” you say, your voice breathy and needy. 

His lips find yours in a desperate kiss, you devour each other– hands everywhere. He grabs the back of your neck, threading his fingers into the base of your hair and tugging lightly. You moan, an embarrassingly loud noise for such a small gesture. 

He takes note of your reactions to every little thing, determined to learn what makes you tick the most. 

One of his large hands splays wide over the side of your face, the other roaming down to tug at the fabric of your dress. 

“As pretty as you look, I’ve been dyin’ to find out what you’re hidin’ underneath this dress,” he teases under the hemline, fingers barely grazing the curve of your ass. 

You tug at the collar of his shirt, then trail your hands slowly down his clothed chest, resting your hands on his belt, “I could say the same to you, Mr. Grimes.” 

He wonders if you know what you do to him when you talk like that. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to hold back anymore. 

“Careful, callin’ me that,” he says, tugging harder at the fabric around your waist. You love how he communicates with you, telling you exactly what he likes. 

“Or what? What are you gonna do to me, Mr. Grimes,” You tease. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” he says, hiking you up with one arm. 

You instinctively wrap your legs tightly around his waist, “smart girl,” he whispers in your ear as he carries you to your bedroom. The words bounce around in your head making you feel dizzy already.

You hold on to him, fingers tugging on his hair as you steal a few kisses (and bites) on his neck while he takes you up the stairs. 

He doesn’t throw you like you thought he might, rather he places you down gently onto your made-bed. He slowly gets down in front of you– the soft thud of each knee hitting the floor causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps– and looks up at you with a reverence you hadn’t quite seen in him before. He pushes your dress up, allowing his hands to roam over the bare plush of your thighs. 

He starts leaving kisses all over your exposed skin. 

“I know it’s not your first time,” kiss, “but it's your first time with me,” kiss, “and that matters to me,” kiss, “I’m gonna show you how this is really done,” kiss, “show you how sorry I am,” kiss, “if you’ll let me,” kiss. 

“Yes, Rick, please,” you don’t even know what you’re asking for, you just want him. 

His hands trail underneath your dress now, grazing over your stomach. 

“May I?” He asks, tugging on the dress. 

“Take it off, please take it off” you beg. 

“Good manners, baby,” he says as he pulls the flowy fabric over your head, “m’so proud of you.” 

You slightly resent the way his words made you instantly wetter than you were to begin with. 

While you had been getting ready for your date with Rick, you knew there’d be a chance that tonight was the night that he finally gave in. You thought it might be funny to wear the same cheeky pair of white, frilly panties you’d teased him with during your Spencer-scheme. You’d been waiting for this moment, wondering if he’d notice. 

And he did. 

“Aren’t you clever,” he says, nudging his nose into your hip bone, breathing you in, “did’ya pick these out just for me this time?” 

You nod, feeling shy all of a sudden. 

“Words, darlin’,” he pinches your waist earning a small yelp from you– he smirks at your reaction. 

Oh, this is going to be fun. 

“Picked these out just for you tonight,” you say, desperate for him to give you more, “thought you might like seein’ me wear ‘em.”

“I think I’d like ‘em even better on the floor,” he says, toying with the elastic at your waist. 

You whimper at his actions, his words, your fingers playing with a few of his misplaced curls. 

“You tell me if I do somethin’ you don’t like,” he breaks for a moment, looking at you for confirmation. 

There was a certain little word that got a reaction out of him earlier, you wanted to test it out again. 

“Yes sir, I will,” you look down at him wearing a knowing smirk. He looks beautiful like this– on his knees between your legs. You regret not having him here sooner. 

He grunts at your words, fingers digging into your skin now. His head tilts to the side ever-so-slightly, inching closer to where you want him most. You feel his breath hot on your core. He spreads you further, pushing your legs apart to give him more access. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he says, biting up your inner thighs, nose almost nudging your clit multiple times. Fucking tease. 

“Rick,” you whisper, your patience wavering.

“You want it?” He asks.

You nod.

“Not good enough. Say it, I need to hear you say it,” he says, voice low. 

“I want it,” you moan, “I want it, Rick, please,” you beg. 

He tightens his grip on your knee, “Mmm, no, sorry. Maybe I wasn’t clear,” he says, “tell me you want me.” 

He presses wet, sloppy kisses to your inner thigh, “or do I have you all wrong?” He drags out his words.

You tug at his hair, trying to pull him closer to your clothed sex, “Yes, fuck, I want you, Rick,” you run your thumb against his cheek, he shamelessly nuzzles his head into your hand.

You continue, thinking maybe he really does need some reassurance. 

“I think about you more than I care to admit,” you say, looking him in the eyes, getting close to his ear, you whisper, “when I’m alone at night,” you lean forward to kiss his neck, “even when I was mad at you,” you bite at his collarbone, “still thought about you, Rick.” 

Rick hums at your affection; he wastes no time getting eye level with your pussy, nudging his nose against your clit through the thin material of those fucking panties. 

“Jesus,” Rick says tauntingly, taking in a deep breath between your legs, “you smell good,” a little creepy, but you loved it. 

“Rick, you’re killing me,” you whine.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry sweetheart,” he says, kissing your bud through the cotton fabric. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the pet names with him, each one making your cheeks blush and your stomach turn. 

You start to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, needing him to take off something. He takes the hint, finishing the job for you– ridding himself of his button up and the plain white t-shirt underneath. You tug at his belt now, silently asking him to do away with his slacks as well. 

He obliges - like always - unbuckling his belt, then undoing his pants and letting them fall to his feet. 

The metal clatter of his belt against the hardwood floor made your core flutter in anticipation. You’re not sure how much longer you can wait, but you do your best to be patient for him– to let him have his way with you. 

Part of you knows that’s what you really want from him. After months of Rick being so wishy-washy with you, you don’t care to lead the way with him– at least not right now. You want him to show you exactly how he wants you. So, you’ll let him do just that (and that’s not to say you won’t give him some encouragement along the way). 

You lean back on your elbows, taking him in in all his glory, and finally, you aren’t feeling so shy with him anymore. 

“This is weird,” you say plainly. 

“Like I said babydoll, we can stop anyti-” he starts; you cut him off.

“No, this,” you gesture to his nearly naked frame on top of you. “You know, I never get to just stare at you,” you say, your hair fanned out on the pillow beneath your head. 

“What d’ya mean, honey?”

“I always have to steal a glance, or act like I wasn’t looking… I never get to just look at you,” you admit. You trace your fingers up and down his toned abdomen, he tenses, muscles flexing under your touch. You gently graze each and every scar that decorates his skin, you even lean forward and leave a sweet kiss to the rather large one on his left shoulder (from where Morgan stabbed him.) 

“I always notice,” he says, looking down at you with a smirk.

“Well, you look good, Rick, what’s a girl to do?” you say, coaxing him with the compliment. He seems to feel the same way as you, his eyes raking up and down your body, caressing every inch of your soft skin with the palms of his hands. 

“You do too,” he says your name, “you’re beautiful, fuck,” he mutters. 

You inhale deeply, letting out a shaky breath, “please just fuck me, Rick–  want you to have me,” you look him straight in the eyes as you say this. As though he’d been waiting for a go-ahead from you, he doesn’t waste another second, immediately latching his lips to your neck and squeezing the flesh on your hips with both hands. 

He kisses his way down your abdomen, leaving small love bites every now and then. Your skin erupts in goosebumps after a particularly hard bite, you inhale sharply. 

“Oh, you liked that,” Rick says, biting you again– this time on your hip. 

You let out pretty, needy little sounds at his actions. 

Before you can speak again, he finally nudges his nose into your folds, grazing over your clit. 

“Fuck, Rick–” you yank his hair (a little harder than you meant to), “shit- sorry,” you dotingly smooth over the spot where you’d tugged. 

“Y’can pull harder than that, honey” and as though to reward you for your action, he darts his tongue out of his mouth, finally getting a taste of you.

I’m so fucked- Rick thinks to himself, feeling immediately addicted to you (as if he wasn’t already). 

He moans into your pussy, the vibrations adding to the pleasure he’s giving you. He leans his whole body into it as he relentlessly eats you out

“What a treat,” he says, lapping the wetness from your core, drinking you in, “you’re soaked,” alternating between your entrance and your clit in a way that keeps you right on the edge. 

“Rick, this feels so good, p-please don’t stop,” you tug on his hair again, knowing now how much he enjoys it. 

He adds two fingers into the mix now, stretching you out in a way that gets you close instantly. His fingers were much larger than yours, and it had been quite a while since you’d had anything but your own hands to pleasure yourself. 

If you were having to adjust to his fingers, you start to feel a little nervous about being able to handle all of him– you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. 

Rick feels you begin to squirm under his touch, so he uses his spare arm to hold your hips down. 

“I-I’m gonna-” your words get caught in your throat as your eyes squeeze shut. 

“I know baby, I know,” he maintains perfect pace with his fingers, giving soft-tongued attention to your clit at the same time, “let me have it.” 

And with that, you reach your high (a little quicker than you would have liked), but he’s had you so worked up all day– it's not your fault. 

He slows his movements as you ride out your orgasm, you rut your hips into his face, gasping moans of his name. 

You catch your breath before speaking, voice quiet and sweet.

“You’re good at that, Rick,” you run your fingers through his hair, nails scratching at the base of his neck. You pull him up toward your face, bringing him in for a kiss. Although he shaved that morning, he already has a 5 o’clock shadow– the new stubble scratching your face (you love it). You taste yourself on his lips and can’t help but swoon a little bit at the way he just ate you like you were his last meal. 

“I’d have you everyday if it were up to me. You’re a pretty little thing, you know that?” He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. 

Something you find yourself really enjoying about Rick is how much the two of you have been talking during sex. Having an open dialogue like this makes things feel so intimate. Hearing exactly how much he enjoys you, your lips, your hands, it’s giving you a sense of confidence you didn’t know you could have in the bedroom. 

He loved it all the same, each moan, whimper, or whine from you felt like a special reward just for him. More than that, he loved to hear from you– how you were feeling, how much you enjoyed his touch, how long you’ve wanted this. Each admission bolstered his self-assuredness with you, making him determined to please you even more with his next move. 

Your limbs feel like jelly, but you were nowhere near done with him yet. You muster up some much-needed strength before sitting up and tying your hair back. Rick’s eyebrows raise.

“You, here.” You say, patting a spot between the pillows at the top of the mattress. He listens, eager to find out what you’ve got in mind. He sits comfortably with his back up against the headboard, hands lazily laced behind his head as he lets out a content sigh. 

“It’s my turn to show you,” you plant a quick kiss on his lips, “just how bad,” a bite to his neck, “I’ve been wanting this, Rick,” you lick a stripe along his collarbone. His breath stutters. 

“You’re so handsome,” you kiss down his toned abdomen, raking your nails over his chest, “I don’t know why the women here didn’t pounce on you when they had the chance, I would have if I were them.”

“You think this doesn’t count as pouncin’ on me?” He teases with a smile on his face, clearly relishing in your words. You suppose he’s right; this earns him a barely-noticeable eye roll from you. 

“I really do think about you when I’m alone, you know?” You say, as though it’s obvious as you palm his erection through his boxers. 

“What do you think about, hmm?”

“It’s kinda embarrassing, Rick, I don’t know-” 

“What is it baby? Wanna let me in that pretty head of yours?” he strokes your cheek with his thumb, his voice is quiet and reassuring, “I’ve been so proud of you tonight, you’ve been so sweet for me, so open with me, even after everything I put you through,” he says, trying to coax you back to confidence. He loved seeing you be so shameless with him, and he’s greedy– he wants to see that side of you again. 

“I think about this,” you tug at the waist band of his boxers, silently asking him to lift his hips for you. He keenly accommodates you, tossing the plaid fabric onto your nightstand. 

And if feeling him through his jeans the other day had told you anything, it’s that you were right. He was thick. Your eyes go cartoon-wide at the sight resulting in a cocky laugh from Rick– you supposed he’d earned it, just look at him. 

In the moment you felt you needed it the most, your confidence found you again. The feeling quickly turned into smugness at the thought of getting to have Rick like this whenever you want. 

You take him in your hand, your fingers barely wrapping all the way around his length. You thumb over his slit, already leaking with a sticky bead of white liquid. He says your name softly in a mix of moans and heavy breaths. 

You decide that he’s waited long enough, you kiss his tip– your touch light and sweet. You lick up and down the length a couple of times to wet his shaft before fully taking him into your mouth. He’s so thick you hardly have the room to hollow your cheeks out, he’s stuffing your mouth full and you certainly aren’t complaining. 

You stick your ass up in the air, arching your back at a delicious angle as you continue your efforts on him. 

“You look so pretty,” he says, cradling your face in his hand, guiding your mouth up and down his length, “‘m kickin’ myself for not havin’ you like this sooner,” he breathes out the words slowly, holding eye contact so intense you almost want to shrink under his gaze. 

With the world how it is now, you know he means it (as lewd as the context of his admission may have been). Time isn’t promised, you think that maybe both of you regret playing all those games with each other. What’s the point in beating around the bush with someone when tomorrow isn’t guaranteed? 

All of a sudden, Rick pulls you off– a thin strand of saliva still connecting your lips to his cock. It’s a miracle he doesn't finish at the sight of you like this. 

“What’s wrong? W-was I not doing a good job?” You ask, slumping your shoulders in defeat and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you talk. 

Rick feels like he’s receiving his first ounce of good karma since this all started. With everything going on, here, out there, everywhere, all you’re worried about at this moment is pleasing him. The fact that you seem to be as lost in the moment with him as he was with you made his heart swell. The thought then makes him sick, feeling as though he doesn’t deserve you after everything he put you through these last few months, ignoring you like that. He shakes the thought away, telling himself this was his chance to make it up to you. 

“Oh– my sweet girl, no. You were perfect,” he hoists you up to straddle him now, that sorry look still on your face, “so perfect, I got close there for a second,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “can’t leave my girl hangin’, can I? Gotta give you what you really want.” 

My girl.

You crack a small smile now, adjusting yourself in his lap so that your wet folds slide over his length. Rick's hands find purchase on your waist, gripping you tight before swiftly picking you up to swap places with him. The strength and speed with which it happens makes you dizzy (in a good way). 

The head of his cock teases at your entrance and you whine, even though he’s hardly given you an inch. 

“You ready, sweetheart? This what you need?” He asks, doting as ever. 

“Yes,” you say softly, barely-there. 

With that, he starts to push into you, slowly, little by little. Your face scrunches up at the stretch, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your nails into his back. 

Finally, when you feel as though you’ve adjusted, you let out a small exhale, opening your eyes to find he’s already looking at you with blown out pupils, jaw slack, eyelids hanging low with pleasure. 

“I was worried for a second there that I wouldn’t be able to take all of you,” you whisper, a needy grin on your face. 

He starts to pet your hair now, almost sympathetically, “oh baby doll,” he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m only about halfway in,” he smirks, cocky again. He acts sorry, but he most certainly isn’t. 

You close your eyes again, taking a deep breath, trying to relax your muscles. 

“O-okay, I’ve got this,” you say, trying to convince yourself more than anything, “keep going, Rick, I can take you,” you assure him. 

“I know you can,” he says as he pushes the rest of his length in with one leisurely thrust. You yelp, the sting quickly turning into bliss as he continues to say dirty things in your ear, “you’re a smart girl right? I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

Your eyes roll back in your head as he begins to move at an even pace now, each slow drag of his cock against your tight walls works you up closer and closer to where you want to be again. Your bodies begin to mold together as though you’d done this a hundred times. This feels wildly unlike anyone else you’d been with before; with each thrust, you start to feel more and more like you were made for him. Unbeknownst to you, the same thought crosses his mind. 

“Turn around,” he says, more demanding than he’d been thus far. You loved it. In an attempt to encourage him to lean into that a little more, you instantly obey, swiftly turning your body over– your stomach now flat on the mattress. 

He splays both hands over your ass cheeks, giving each one a gentle slap and a quick squeeze, grunting low in his throat as he does so, as though he was trying to hold himself back from man-handling you a little harder. His hands clench your hips now, pulling your bottom half toward his pelvis. Your back naturally arches as you bury your face into a pillow, patiently waiting for him to re-enter you. He leaves a trail of kisses up your spine as he lines himself up with your entrance again. 

He pushes in easily this time, you really have adjusted to him quickly.

“There you go, that’s my girl,” he coos, his hard, quickening pace contrasting his sugar-sweet words. You can’t even muster up a response, you just moan pathetic sounds of pleasure into the pillow. 

Keeping one hand on your hip to steady you as he continues to fuck you (hard, now), he threads the other into your hair, angling your head to the side so he can get a little look at you. 

Your eyebrows are upturned, your eyes half-closed, mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ shape as you pant out breathy moans and an attempt at a few words like, “yes, fuck, feels good, Rick, fuck, God, more, please.” 

This is exactly how he’d imagined you’d be– fucked out, needy, perfect for him. 

He feels you tighten ever-so-slightly around his length, your legs beginning to wobble, hardly able to hold yourself up. He intervenes, wrapping a strong arm around your waist, his chest flush with your back now as he maintains a steady pace. 

He’s deep in this position, the tip of his dick repeatedly rubbing up against your sweet spot. Your sweet sounds get a little louder now. 

You reach your hand back toward him, clenching around his flexed thigh. 

“R-Rick, I’m c-close again,” you say, words coming out in the same rhythm as his thrusts. He weirdly enjoyed that. 

“I know baby, I can feel you,” he says, his voice gentle yet commanding the room all the same, “let go honey, I’ve got you.”

The thought of him being this attuned to your body already makes you feel warm. More than anything, his words send you over the edge. You come harder than the first time now, clenching around his cock and gushing all over his length; you’ve made a mess of him. 

The mental fortitude Rick mustered to stave off his own orgasm in order to coax you through yours was an impressive and close-to-impossible feat. He was focused, determined to put your pleasure before his own (tonight, and always). 

When he was sure you’d finished, all the way, he pulled out, jerking himself with one hand and effortlessly flipping you over with the other. 

“Look at me,” he orders, “eyes open,” he starts to spurt his white hot load on your soft stomach, “wanna see your face, my pretty girl.” 

You reach forward to massage his balls as he finishes himself off, his eyes squeeze shut when he feels your soft fingers caress him down there. His mouth falls open to release a series of curses and moans, a few lewd utterances of your name spilling out as well. 

Catching your breath, the sounds of your combined panting echo in your now quiet bedroom. You stare into his eyes with that same lovesick look on your face from earlier. He peppers your face with kisses, his hands never fully resting as they trail gently along the smooth skin of your arms,  your legs, your hips. 

“Let me get you cleaned up, hmm?” he says, just above a whisper. 

“Mhmm,” you agree, eyes closed contently. 

Rick reaches over the side of your bed, searching for his discarded undershirt to use as a rag, (he would make sure to be the one doing that load of laundry). He leans over you now, gently wiping you off, leaving a few sloppy pecks over your skin along the way. 

You open your mouth to speak and promptly close it when you realize what you were about to say. 

Was I actually about to tell him I love him?

You suppose that can happen when you get fucked for the first time in a while, especially when you get fucked like that– all intimate and domestic. You know it’s not time to say that to him yet, but God did it feel natural. Mind slightly clearer now, you draw circles with your fingers on his bicep as you speak. 

“That was… that was really nice, Rick, like- really good,” you continue, “I needed that… with you,” you sort-of regret the vulnerable confession.

All cards on the table, I guess. You bargain with yourself internally. 

“I love to hear that baby,” he kisses into your hair, “I needed that too,” he’s whispering now, “thank you.”

“For what?” You whisper back. 

“For trustin’ me, givin’ me a chance to make this right with you,” he pulls your body impossibly closer to his, “I’ll keep on tryin’ for as long as you’ll have me.” 

His words register with you as a version of commitment, that this wouldn’t be a one time thing, that he wants more with you, more of you. 

“I’d have you forever if it were up to me, Grimes.” You don’t regret your vulnerability this time. 

A toothy grin spreads across his face. You secretly love when you can pull this from him– that innocent, boyish smile that makes it look like maybe, for just a moment, he’d forgotten that the world is falling apart outside. 

“Sounds like a good deal to me,” he breathes the words out as his arms settle comfortably around you now, both of you quickly fading. 

Without so much as a discussion, he stayed with you, holding you close to his chest all night. He couldn’t wait to get a look at you when you wake up tomorrow– a glimpse of how he might start his mornings everyday now. 

THANK YOU FOR READING <3

This is the game you play with Rick. You're sure by now everyone else is sick of being unwilling bystanders to it, but you can never get enough. Ever since you met the older man, the two of you mixed together like a stray match in a keg of gunpowder.

He tries his hardest to lead this group. You know that's true. But life fucking sucks in the apocalypse. It's not your fault if you get a little fed up with things sometimes.

You take it out on him cause it's easy. You disagree with his plans without coming up with any of your own. You complain about assignments you're given. You whine about the lack of supplies and direction. You roll your eyes and sigh during minor disagreements while nearly throwing a fit for larger ones.

For the first six months he knew you, it drove him fucking crazy. He went to sleep at night dreading waking up because he knew he'd have to deal with you the next day. At one point, he was convinced that he'd die of high blood pressure before any walker got the chance to kill him.

But then he figured out the secret to dealing with you. It wasn't too long before the prison fell that he learned this little trick. The two of you were the only ones awake, and you had another huge fight about some inconsequential bullshit. He was supremely frustrated. You weren't showing any signs of conceding that you were being ridiculous either.

It's like a blur in his memory now, the way he pinned you against the hard brick wall. He tore open the tiny shorts you had on. And that was when he learned. Your pretty little pussy was like your control center. He just had to hit the right buttons to bring you back to normal.

Now when you act up, he gives you the chance to fix it. You'll say something in that pitchy tone of voice and pout at him, and he'll raise a brow. He'll ask you to repeat yourself. If you continue the challenge, he still tries to be civil and talk you down. But once you push too far, you end up with a firm hand wrapped around your wrist, dragging you away from the rest of the group.

That's what happened tonight.

He scoffs at your assertion that you'd apologized. "You said sorry when you realized you were in trouble," he grumbles.

His fingers dig into your waist, feeling the soft skin left exposed by your t-shirt that's riding up. Your toes curl inside your sneakers while your fingernails scrape against the chipping paint of the church's paneling.

"I still meant it," you insist.

"If you're so sorry, tell me why I have to teach you this same fuckin' lesson over and over again," he growls.

"I dunno... cause you didn't do it good enough the first time?" you offer.

He gives your hip a smack for that and shoves you harder against the wall with a forearm across your back. You can feel the cool silver of his watch on your shoulder blade. Your tits are just as smooshed as your cheek is now. You whine in response, your feet floundering against the dirt below, but he keeps fucking into you hard.

"Cute. Keep talking back like that and see where it gets you," he says.

"I was just joking, daddy," you respond with a little sniffle for maximum impact.

"Oh, I'm daddy now?" he mocks. Neither of your attempts at sympathy seem to have struck a chord. "I'm daddy when you want me to be nice to you, but not any other time. Do I have that right?"

"Nuh uh..."

"Yeah. You won't listen to me. Won't do anything I ask without givin' me hell. But the second you get tired of taking it like a big girl, I'm your daddy," he taunts.

You squeak as he yanks your hips against his pelvis particularly hard. His tip rams right into that sweet, spongy spot inside you. It knocks the breath from your lungs. Your knees start to buckle beneath you.

He watches as you really begin to slip. With a sigh, he pulls his cock out of your dripping hole. You whine about that too, of course, but you don't have time to complain before he flips you around and hooks his hands behind your knees. He folds you in half against the wall and slides right back into the slick heat of your cunt. His hips rock against you like they never stopped.

"Look at you. You think you have any right to question me when you can't even stand up on your own? When y'need daddy to do everything for you," he mutters.

You mewl and arch your back, but he keeps you exactly where he wants you. His shaft slams into you over and over, chasing the feeling of your walls clamping down on it. You can't fight back against what he's saying cause any semblance of cohesive argument has been fucked right out of you.

"Did-didn't mean it," you choke out.

"Then say sorry like you mean it," he breathes.

He pumps into you harder and deeper, making it difficult for you to answer. But you try your best because you're getting close, and after you cum, it'll be damn near impossible.

"I- I'm sorry, daddy. Didn't mean to make you mad. I'll try to be good and listen," you say before a whine cracks your voice and causes your head to drop forward.

He nudges your face up with his nose before rewarding you with a kiss. "That's my girl," he mumbles, "Gonna listen for me. Accept that you don't know what's best, hm? That you need me to take care of you and make the decisions?"

You nod with your quivering lip and glossy eyes.

That gets a little smirk on his lips, and he kisses your pout once more. His hand snakes around to thumb at your clit. The rapid fire swipes are all you need to topple over the edge and let go. You tense up and cover your own mouth, muffling your cries with your palm.

"There you go. Let it out," he grunts.

He grits his teeth, holding on long enough to fuck you through your high. As soon as you start to come down though, he pulls out and spills his seed onto the dirt beneath you.

His body shudders against yours, another set of harsh breaths blowing against your neck. You lean your head against his. The sweat that dampens his scalp smears on your cheek.

The both of you hold the position for a few moments longer before beginning to untangle. He sets you back on the ground, keeping his hands on your waist until he's sure you're stable. You pull your discarded shorts back on and adjust your shirt while he zips himself up.

When you're put together again, he grabs your wrist like he'd done earlier but with a more gentle touch. He pulls you flush against his body and encircles you with his arms, keeping you pressed to his chest. His hand rubs up and down your back in soothing strokes.

"My baby. All tuckered out and settled down for me now, yeah?" he whispers.

You nod, your eyes already feeling droopy with the calm that comes after release. His embrace is so warm it lulls you further into this docile, dreamy state.

Rick rolls his eyes again, but there's not as much irritation this time. A good fuck mellows him out just like it does you. Plus, in moments like these, he can admit to himself that he has a small soft spot for his little brat.

He sways back and forth with you for a few moments, planting occasional kisses on the top of your head.

"You gonna behave when we go back inside?" he murmurs.

"Yeah," you answer softly.