#rick x reader

It makes you shy. Makes you quiet, prone to self-isolation. But you're different; special in a way that sets you apart from everyone else who's developed hyper-vigilance after the shitty hand life's dealt them.

You're soft. Sweet. Fucking kind.

And he isn't really sure how he managed to lure you under his arm, but he did. And he's determined to keep you there.

Which, at times, honestly seems too easy. He thinks it should be harder. That you should give him a harder time. That you should ask for more, maybe give him shit every now and then.

The first time he tells you, you look at him strangely. Like he'd just suggested you run naked into a hoard instead of (what he believes) to be a pretty reasonable request. Then you'd given him awkward smile (that had no right to look as cute and pretty as it did) and said 'sure.'

Like you were placating him. 'Sure, Rick. I'll get right on that.'

The second time isn't as direct, but it does end in another awkward smile. You'd both been fairly busy all day. You, on a supply run —He doesn't want to toot his own horn when he says that he made a good decision making you a runner, but damn, you're good— and him doing day-to-day problem solving, scouting, decision making, and all the other exhausting shit he wishes he didn't have to do.

So you'd both been lying on the couch, just kind of taking each other in, and he asked you:

"What do you want to do tonight?"

You'd lifted your head from where it was pillowed against his shoulder, eyes a little wider than usual. You'd stared at him for a beat too long to be considered normal, like you were looking for something in his face. An answer.

And then you'd asked him: "What do you want to do?"

And it wasn't really the answer he was looking for, but it did make something kind of click, in his head. He didn't remark on it out loud or make any sort of indication that something relatively important regarding you and your relationship has just occurred to him.

Instead, he said: "I'm pretty content right here."

And you'd smiled, but it wasn't quite right. It was just a little off. Like you were waiting for something.

He files it away for later.

—

Later happens to be much sooner than he thinks, because now he can't really stop himself from noticing all the myriads of ways that you just... don't ever state your opinion. There's a part of him that preens when you automatically defer to his judgement, especially when it involves giving you a command or order, and he gets to see that glassy look in your eyes, but the other part of him, that part that twinges uncomfortably when he can't manage to wrangle a clear answer from you about what you wan't for breakfast, kind of thinks that there might be layers to the whole fawn thing you've got going on.

It's honestly kind of confusing. On one hand, he knows that if he were to ever really cross a line, you wouldn't hesitate to stab him in his sleep. Or poison his food, or maybe just slap the shit out of him, plain and simple. You're not harmless or defenseless. You wouldn't have survived this long by yourself if you were. So it doesn't really make sense when you simply just... never interject or say "I don't want to do that."

He honestly doesn't think he's ever heard you say no to him before. Which makes him feel extremely slimy and gross, and he vows immediately the moment the thought occurs to him that he has to put a stop to this.

"Sweetheart," He says one morning, having finally worked the courage up, "I got a little something."

You rush over to him immediately, eyes sparking and your body practically vibrating with excitement.

"Is it a new water bottle? Cause I know mine is gross—"

"Slow down," He chuckles, though makes a mental note to add a water bottle to the list of things to do for you, "It's not that exciting I'm afraid. Just... a little treat."

From behind his back, conveniently hidden on the counter behind him, he pulls out a box of your favorite tea. Nothing crazy- he'd happen to spot it on a run-slash-get-away with Daryl, and he knew he could use it to enact a certain plan of his.

It feels so cruel, but he needs to test it. To make sure. And to see the severity of what he's dealing with.

Sure enough- you gasp, hands immediately reaching out for it.

So he interrupts you before you can speak. "It's Maggie's favorite. I know you and her have started to get closer, so I thought you could give to her as a gift."

Watching you falter and retreat into yourself is physically painful. This was a terrible idea. Rick feels awful.

"Oh. Yeah, I think she'd like that."

Rick sighs, full-bodied, and leans back against the counter and gently grabs you by the arms, pulling you forward.

"Baby," He says, voice pitched low and a little soft, just for you, "I did not get that for Maggie. I got that for you."

"Oh," You say again, voice too quiet for his liking, "Then why did you say you got it for her?"

"Because I wanted to see if you'd tell me no."

He waits for you to respond, maybe defend yourself, or something like that, but you don't. You just look at him, eyes a smidgen wet, expression carefully blank.

He raises his hands slow, slow, slowly, because he knows you, and if you're quiet that means two things: Content or scared. And you're definitely not content right now, and he doesn't want to give you a reason to bolt.

You don't though. Run, that is. You freeze in place instead, which almost feels worse, and close your eyes when his hand grows close to your face. He watches your whole body tense, he watches you suppress a small flinch when he finally touches your jaw, your cheek.

"Angel," He brings his other hand up, and your eyes flutter open, "I want you to say no to me. I want you to ask for things and I want you to give me shit. Can you do that for me, baby?"

You scrunch your face up, hesitant, and take your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

"Uh-uh," He presses on your lip, tugging it free from your merciless bite, "None of that. Come on, use your words."

"I'm... not good at that," You admit, tone hushed, "And... I don't want to. I like it when you decide things, because then I don't have to think about decisions and it's not as stressful. I don't want to go back to stressing all the time."

"Can you honestly say you haven't been stressing this whole time? About what you thought I would do or say if you spoke up about something?"

Your silence is telling.

"If I ever, and I mean ever, raise my voice to you when it's not an emergency, or if I get mad at you for disagreeing with me or voicing your opinion, you have my full permission to slap the shit out of me. Or ask Daryl to do it."

You giggle a little. "That's not fair. Daryl would do that if I asked right now."

"He'd do it for free," Rick amends, a smile tugging at his lips. "But I'm serious. Ain't nothing bad gonna happen to you if you tell me what you want for breakfast."

"I dunno," You shrug, "I might spontaneously explode."

He snorts, then opens his arms and beckons you forward. You collapse against him without a second thought, a little whine expelled from your lungs and muffled by his chest.

"I know, I know," He coos at you, half-mocking half-serious. "But you were so brave, and brave girls get treats."

"Like tea?"

"Yes, like tea."

You hum against him, easily placated, and he thinks that you really aren't difficult at all.

—

A few weeks go by, and you really do make a concerted effort to speak up. For him only, of course. You still have the habit of keeping to yourself, and you seem to just be quiet by nature. Which is fine, because he's taken an awful liking to having such a cute and quiet little thing around him. And your effort is adorable.

Still, though, it's not without it's hiccups.

You got home from a supply run a little bit ago, and you've been avoiding him. Not so glaringly obvious that he feels like he has to say something, but. You definitely are. You just seem on edge. Skittish. Like you were when you first got here.

So he goes about making dinner, cause he's not the kind of man to expect his girl to do everything for him. Especially you, because he knows you would if he asked. You would do anything if he asked. Which really only makes him want to make you do less. Sweet little thing like you shouldn't worry about things like that.

Except here you are, in the kitchen, hovering, and very obviously worrying.

"Sweetheart," He says, absentmindedly flipping a pancake —you've never said it out loud, but he knows breakfast for dinner is one of your favorite meals, "Sit down."

You comply- and quickly at that. But in the absence of hovering near him, you begin bouncing your knee and staring at him, so he dishes up a single pancake and slides it to you.

"Eat that. And when you're done, I want you to tell me why you're upset."

"I"m not—"

"Didn't I tell you to eat first?"

You do actually grumble under your breath a little, much to his satisfaction.

Once you've finished wolfing down the pancake, you tap your fork on your plate, staring at the silverware and clearly avoiding his gaze.

"I've been trying harder to speak up."

"Mhm. You have. I've noticed."

You start chewing on your lip.

"Am I... Am I not trying hard enough?"

Rick's eyebrows furrow. "Why would you think that?"

He quickly flips the last pancake, plops it on the stack with the others, and carries it to the table where you're nervously fidgeting.

"You haven't- um. Usually, you..." He watches you clench and unclench your hands, body tense like you're two seconds away from skittering right out the door, and when you speak, it's hushed and mumbled. "You usually tell me I'm doing good."

Oh. Oh you poor thing.

"Oh baby," He murmurs, sitting down on the chair next to and patting his lap, "Come here,"

You rise from your chair slowly, your eyes briefly flickering from him to the door, and then back to him. Weighing your options. A prey animal weighing comfort over safety.

In the end, comfort wins out, cause you gingerly shuffle forward and plop yourself into his lap, burrowing your face in his shoulder. It doesn't seem like a comfortable position, with you all scrunched up like that, but he's not going to fight that battle right now. Not when your hands are shaking with their grip on his shirt.

"My poor baby," He coos, rubbing up and down your back, "Have you been stressing this whole time? You been worrying? Thinkin' you ain't good?"

"Mhm." You mumble, voice dejected.

"Oh, sweetheart, that ain't true, not one little bit, alright? You've been doing so good, haven't you? Yeah you have. Working so hard to be good on top of being the best runner here, ain't that right?"

You nod into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you think you weren't doing good. I'm so proud of you, you know that?"

You make a little wounded noise, kinda soft, kinda whiny.

"It's true. I am. I don't like that you were stressin' this whole time. Defeats the whole purpose, don't it? You know why I wanted you to start speaking up for yourself in the first place?"

Your breath hitches a little before you speak.

"Why?"

"Cause I could tell it was making you worry. And if you have anything to worry about, then I'm not doin' my job properly."

"It's your job to make sure I'm not worried?"

"Yes ma'am," Rick lets his hand come up to rest on the back of your neck. "Sweet things like you shouldn't have anything to worry about. You're too kind for that."

"You think I'm kind?"

"Course I do." He says, readjusting his grip, one hand squeezing your hip, just a tad possessive, It's too hard to resist, when you're clingy like this.

You pull back, bottom lip jutted out and the perfect shade of bitten-pink, entirely irresistible. He doesn't even try to stop himself from kissing you, soft and deep. You've earned it.

"Now," He says, a touch breathless, "I reckon you've worked up a bit of an appetite with all that worrying. And it looks like someone made your favorite dinner."

You give him a quick kiss on the nose. God, you're adorable.

"You're too good to me."

"No," Rick mouths at the side of your neck, lazy and slow. "M' just giving you exactly what you deserve. My pretty girl."

—

After that, he makes sure to praise you each and every day. Honestly, it's as much for him as it is for you. On several occasions, he has to pull you aside from your daily chores just to kiss you, to hold you, because you're just too enticing, all sweet and kind and so happy when he tells you 'good job' or calls you 'good girl'. You're a menace to his blood pressure.

Watching you slowly bloom is a special treat, though. Kind of intoxicating, if he's being honest. Because now he knows with absolute certainty that when he gives you an order, a command, you comply because you want to. You want to listen to him.

It's a miracle he manages to leave the bedroom every day.

You'd confided him one night, curled up into his side that you'd been worried that you'd be difficult to handle. That he'd get tired of putting up with you and your skittish nature.

"Sweetheart, I fuckin' love handling you."

He spent the rest of the night putting your fears to rest. You both sleep through your alarms the next morning.

He's pretty sure it was worth it.

you laughed, panting from your all-too-recent second orgasm. rick had almost begged you to let him settle between your thighs after you’d had a particularly long day - a more than welcome gesture, one which would’ve seemed out of place only a couple months ago. it’s not that rick wasn’t a giver when you had sex, not by any means, he just usually wasn’t one to make the effort to help you relax. and you’d gotten used to that.

he’d changed recently, and it was almost too good to be real. the first few days, you were unsettled by his sudden niceness. of course, he tended to be slightly nicer to you than to the others around him, but you knew rick better than most others anyway, and it was unusual for him to be so selfless. he seemed to be more genuine when he spoke. he cut back on his ‘errands’, opting to spend more time at home. he went three full days without sending a single jab at jerry, and that alone made you think he’d lost it. morty thought the same, side-eyeing his grandpa when he said something or another that usually would be followed by a punchline. but slowly, you all started to get more comfortable with the ‘new’ rick, even if you wondered where he came from.

rick’s long fingers trailed up your sides, his cold fingertips snapping you out of your thoughts. “y-you okay, sweetie?” he asked, positioning himself above you. you nodded with a smile, trying to even out your breathing. “mhm, i’m great, actually.” he grinned back, leaning down to kiss you when the hatch in the garage floor slammed open. you all but jumped out of your skin, scrambling to cover yourself under the assumption summer or morty had walked in on you.

“you’ve been fucking her? did- did you forget i can see what the fuck you’re doing whenever i want to?”

you sat up slowly on the little couch that’d been recently moved into the garage, covering your body with rick’s discarded lab coat. you looked between the rick next to you and the rick climbing out of the floor, trying to piece together the situation. “you dumb fucking robot, you had one job-“

“hey, my job was to be a better you!” the rick next to you said defensively, starting to put an arm around you. you swatted it away, scooting away from him as you realized what had happened. “are you fucking kidding, rick? how long has- where have you been?” you asked incredulously, shooting a glare at the more disheveled version of your boyfriend. he all but ignored you, coming closer to the- rickbot?- as he continued to berate it.

“are you kidding? you think that- that because you’re up here and i’m not, you can get away with touching her like that?” rick laughed in disbelief, leaning over rickbot. any other time, you’d be proud of the way he was trying to defend you, and honestly more than a little turned on. rickbot stared up at his maker, opening his mouth to argue back when you interjected. “you can’t even be mad, rick, at least he fucks me like he means it!”

rick stopped, scoffing as he turned to you. “well, you’ve never complained before, huh? y-you never have any criticism when i make you cum so hard you cry, do you?” you shut your mouth, uncertain how to respond. his words embarrassed you, even more so knowing they were true- rick never gave you any reason to complain. you just wanted to hurt him back. “you got some more smart shit you wanna throw at me? go right- go right ahead, we’re all fucking waiting.” you couldn’t respond, tears starting to prick at your eyes. it was all too much. rickbot reached over to rub your bare shoulder, a pained look on his face as the sight of your reaction. rick slapped his hand away, glaring at him as he pushed rickbot to the ground next to the couch and settled in his spot. rick pulled you closer to him by your ankles, exposing you to him as your back fell against the couch cushions.

“h-hey!” you cried out, glancing down at rickbot before you looked back up at rick. “you- you can’t treat him that way!” you protested, despite the way your skin burned with desire where rick’s hands gripped you. his grip was almost bruising and you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was jealous, and it was bad. you might’ve fucked up. “oh, can’t i, though? c-come on, baby-“ he purred, pushing your legs up further as he leaned between them.

always switching your hips when you walk in front of him, he’s unable to look away with the way your ass moves.

when he gets back from missions, working shirtless in his garage, he sees you peek through the crack in the door, clenching your pudgy thighs together.

he fucking hated you for it. always smiling to yourself after you successfully fluster him, in his house. he’s even noticed one of his shirts went missing while you were over, fucking whore.

even going so far as to conveniently stand in the room across the bathroom while he takes a shower, sneakily savoring the moment when he steps out, with wet long hair clinging to his chest, in only a towel. he knew you were there though, smug as he walked away.

you were much younger than him, 19, so he couldn’t have you, and god.. that made him so mad. he’d lay in bed at night, cock hot and twitching from the cruel relentless teasing you did to him that day, yet feeling too guilty to stroke himself to you. he fucking hated it.

he got back from the mysterious planet, dusting himself off as he got off his ship. he sat at his table, conjuring up a antidote. though he couldn’t ignore the way he felt anymore, dick straining against his pants, almost painfully. hot haze creeping into his mind.

then he heard the door open, you stood in the doorway.

of fucking course you stood there. what a great time to come tease him, he thought. he so badly wished he could just pin you down by your fragile wrists and grind his big dick all over your-

“um.. rick? i-i was just wondering if you had any acetone? me and summer were doing our nails but mine got kinda messy” you nervously chuckled. poking your pushed up tits out as you fiddled with your hands behind your back.

he turned and shot you a deadly disconcerting stare, almost a warning to not fuck with him, to not get any closer.

he stood up, adjusting to hide his erection as he walked over to a junk drawer and pulled out a bottle. “thi-think this is it” he said drunken, placing it on the shelf near you, making a awkward distance as he started walking away.

picking it up, you gave a confused thank you as you started walking away, but halted to ask another question, just trying to talk to him more. “summer told me you just got back from a mission? how’d it go- was it fun?” you asked innocently.

he stood still, rolling his eyes before turning back to you. “yeah i did, and honest’, it- burrrp was so shitty, got infected with some f-fuckin’ plant” he said admittedly

you gave a concerned look, stepping closer to him. “i-infected?! like your sick kinda thing?” you said worriedly, looking up at the tall man.

“i-i.. uhm” he said nonchalantly stepping back, turning his flushed face away. “not that kinda infected, m-more like just temporary” he said, his erection becoming noticeable as he shifted to hide it.

he hated you so bad, his blood boiled as it rushed to his dick. he wanted you to leave, to stop this torture. Rick was so fucking mad at you, yet wanted to give you such good deep dick it made you blissfully peaceful.

you nodded with relief, but noticed sweat staple his hair to his forehead, his hands balled up in fists and his jaw twitched. “a-are you o-okay? you seem a bit.. frantic?”

he tried to snap out of the angry lust, running his shaking hand through his hair. “y-yeah i’m fin-fine. don’t worry about me. g- urrp -go do nails or, w-whatever the fuck” he said, trying to brush you off. but you stepped closer.

he’s backed against the edge of his table, face getting redder. “n-not to be a bother but, are you sure rick? you look like your about to pass out” you said with genuine concern, he looked sweaty and dazed.

“f-fuck (y/n).. you really wanna know so bad hm?” he looked away embarrassed. “got hit with a aphrodisiac, like the s- *hiccup* space version of viagra, not sick just- well.. f-frustrated” he said with shame as he defiantly crossed his arms.

he turned to you with dark eyes before you could respond, “it’s best you fuck off.” he said harshly. but, in reality, he needed you so fucking bad. every sensor in his brain was outputting you. he could practically taste you from here, your perfume clouding up his head.

you nodded, but you didn’t agree, you didn’t wanna leave, you wanted to make rick manhandle you. wanted him so frustrated he’s doing anything for his release, you wanted to toy with him. “but rickkk, can’t you just make an antidote so we can hangout more?”

you say giggling, clearly a tease. he doesn’t take it well, narrowing his eyes. “and what makes you think i want to hang-out w-with you?” he said, noticing the sad look on your face, stupidly feeling bad.

“e-even if i do make one, affects wouldn’t wear off for a few hours, wouldn’t wanna make you weirded out o-or whatever.” he said, becoming exasperated with the amount of desire for you. it’s like his dick was controlling his mind, every word you spoke with that sweet voice granted a throb, a wet patch of pre dampened his boxers. keep teasing him, and he won’t be able to stop himself.

“mmm, saying you wouldn’t be able to control yourself around me, old man rick?” giggling and twirling your hair jokingly, scared for the response.

he snapped; he was so done with your torture. done with this stupid act. it was his turn to back you up, make you feel cornered against the wall. “it seems a lot like you wanna fucking find out.” he said sharp and growly, voice laced with need and equal amounts of anger.

you cowered under him like a puppy, the tall man had a seriously scary mad face. but the tough demeanor shattered when you noticed his bulge and heavy beating heart, realizing he wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at what you did to him.

“m-maybe i do?” so nervous but bold, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in harshly, maybe you were the needy one. his hands didn’t move, scared still. but yours did, you ran your hand through his hair pulling him in, pushing his hot body against yours, feeling his straining cock.

your other hand fell on his chest, feeling the low groan as you deepened the kiss. suddenly, you lacked his lips. “s-stop” he pulled away, almost against his own will. “a-a-are you sure you want me? y-you sure your okay with this?” he asks, surprisingly sweetly.

“i’m sure, rick” you say, before giving him time to think you pull him back in harder, this time running your hands up his shirt, digging him in with your nails.

he moaned loudly, coming undone as he held your throat. his other big hand held your hip, pushing his cock deeper into your stomach, making your stomach twirl.

he felt so good, so fucking good. like the plant was pushing him in, like he needed to be one. he felt relief at the hot body pressed against him, yet it only made him more eager to have his way with you.

before realizing what was happening, he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pulled out his portal gun, shooting it and carrying you through it.

he threw you onto his bed, the smell of his musk filled your nose, rick was as intoxicating as he was intoxicated. he crawled over you, giving no time to speak or question him, you knew what you had gotten into by playing with the Rick Sanchez.

he kissed you roughly, almost violently. wrapping his hand around your throat, this time he gently squeezed it. smirking at your little whines.

he watched you squirm as he pushed his cock painfully hard against your pussy. “think y-you could fuck with me? hm? always knew i’d be making you scream my name someday.” Rick said egotistically as his other hand captured your wrists above your head.

he sat and toyed with you, his haziness making him vulgar. watching the way your breath would hitch when he dry humped you, taking his hand off your throat and gently pushing back the hair stuck to your face.

rick displayed sweetness you’d never seen in him before. rick felt a way about you he’d never felt before. and he knew he needed so much more.

he came to a realization that this wasn’t just the plant making you feel so addictive, it was well, just you. he wanted you every night, now that he can act on it. this sent a jolt of possessiveness through him, your wearing short shorts around him? best believe from now on he’s smacking your ass.

think you can give him sultry bedroom eyes while he’s talking? no, not anymore. because now you know there’s no wall, nothing protecting you from him.

he wanted to see you take his dick, wanted to make you his little bitch. rick sat up, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants, his thick dick sprung out, blue hair decorated his shaft. you completely underestimated his size, he was fucking huge.

with his free hand he guided his dick to slick your lips, glossing them with his pre. “l-look at you, helpless l-little slut” he said degradingly, as he wiped a bead of pre falling from your lips. he tangled his hand in your hair as he suddenly plunged into your throat, making you choke.

you whined, his girth stretching your lips. his veins were thick, feeling them on the walls of your mouth as he fucked it carelessly, his heavy balls slapping your chin.

saliva started coaxing his dick, running down into your hair. his head fell back, groaning a deep moan as he pulled your hair, rick was ruthless. his thrusts got sloppy as your eyes rolled back, mascara running black streaks down your cheeks as your wrists started to ache from the pressure of his body.

he started slowing down, before suddenly burying his cock down your throat, bottoming out. he smirked as you fought, gagging and trying to free your wrists. you started choking on his dick, body rejecting it, but he only pushed deeper, truly mean. “w-what’s that? can’t take it anymore? *hiccup* now you know how i felt” he said cruelly with a smug face.

he pulled out when you were on the verge of passing out. wiping off your spit with his shirt, then taking it off along with his pants. then he kissed you, contradictingly sweet. rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

he stroked his cock, breaking the kiss as he took your legs on his shoulders. rick was very big compared to you, so he tried to take it slower with your pussy.

he pushed your panties to the side as his head explored your folds, so wet you stained his bed. he rubbed his tip on your clit, in painfully slow circles. “r-rick.. please” was all you could mutter, jaw still sore. he groaned at your begging.

he pushed in, tip coaxing in your slick. your heads fell back, he was so fucking big. his dick got wider in the middle, so it resisted going deeper into your pussy, he had to slowly bottom out as to not tear you.

when his balls hit your ass, you felt the most full you’ve ever felt in your life, insides reshaping to his girth, his head pushed painfully against your cervix, he wanted to go deeper, you let out a embarrassingly loud moan as he held your head softly.

you saw your stomach bulge as he suddenly pulled out, and slammed back in. you screamed, nails instinctively digging into his back. he winced from the pain, but he loved it, you felt his dick throb in you.

your mind was just him, your brain was like ice cream in his hot car. you were positive you’d never ever feel this good again, rick had definitely ruined sex for you.

he basically owned you, each time he’d pull out your pussy would flutter around his tip, he’d never fucked such a needy pussy, he was so horny he couldn’t tell wither it was the plant or you.

you felt him get sloppy and fast, thrusts no longer in slow rhythm. his voice got louder, cursing under his breath as he groaned deeply. you could tell he was getting close, he leaned down, folding you like paper as your pussy gushed around him, “r-rick!” you cried out, the pain and pleasure unbearable. he kissed you passionately, even somewhat sympathetically, yet continued bullying your cunt.

you could see his muscles twitch, thick cock throbbed in you hard. loud sounds of skin and slick mixed filled the room. rick grabbed the pillow taut by your head, burying his head in your neck. he groaned a string of curses as he bottomed out in your pussy, pushing into you so hard it hurt.

hot ropes of his cum painted your walls, his groans turned into whiny moans as his hips spazzed. he kissed you deeply, he was genuine. cock still throbbing as the affects completely disappeared after he came, filling you up with his seed. your all his now.

when his dick started to get soft he broke the kiss, laying down to the side of you as he pulled you close, kissing your head.

he pulled the blankets up over you, whispering sweet praises.

“s’ my good girl, my good sweet girl. takin’ me so good” he said, playing with your hair.

he was so sweet, you hadn’t expected this at all, you expected a dirty towel to cleanup and a “see you later”

but he cared, he knew how to care for a woman like men should do, you’d never felt that before.

“we gotta do that again, o-okay?” he said, doubt subtly creeping in that this might be the only time.

you looked up, kissing him softly. “oh rick, i don’t think i could ever get enough of you” you said, and that was 100% the truth.

rick smiled, for the first time you saw him peaceful, usually tense brows were relaxed.

he fell asleep alarmingly quickly, and he was such a deep sleeper his heavy body caged you in, no chance were you getting out.

𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄.

Not even when his dead ex—wife Lori was about to give birth and they didn't have a place for her to deliver the baby. And not when the farm was burning down and they were on the road for months, starving, desperate, barely hanging on.

But this was different. This was you.

You, who had been by his side since he met you. You, who saw through the cracks in his armor, who never flinched when he fell apart behind closed doors. You, who held Judith like she was your own, whispering soft reassurances when the nights were too quiet, too dangerous.

You, who stood beside him, gun in hand, every single time, ready to protect your family. You, who made him believe—if only for a second—that there was something worth surviving for.

And now you were gone.

His hands were trembling, but he clenched them into his fists, multiple times out of anger, as the quietness of the prison enveloped him. Perhaps, it was too quiet.

Not the calming kind of the quiet, but the kind of quiet that settled deep into Rick's chest and squeezed, making it hard for him to even breathe.

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him—Daryl, Hershel, Glenn, Carol, Maggie, Michonne, Tyreese—but he didn't care. All he cared about was you and the thought of you being alone, out there with him, the Governer, made him sick to his fucking core.

“We need to go. Now.” His voice was rough, strained, and held a barely restrained edge of panic.

“Rick.” Hershel’s voice was calm and firm but all Rick heard was the static buzzing in his ears. “You’re no good to her like this.”

Rick’s head snapped up, his jaw tightening. “You don’t get it. We don’t have time. Every second we waste, she’s—” He cut himself off, his throat tightening painfully. He couldn’t say it. “I ain’t sittin’ here, not while she’s out there with him.”

Daryl shifted beside him, crossbow slung over his shoulder, eyes dark and unreadable. “Ain’t sayin’ we don’t go after her.” He said, voice low and even. “But we go in half—cocked, we’re in trouble. She needs us alive.”

Rick swiped a hand over his face, the stubble scraping his palm. His breath was coming too fast, too shallow. The thought of you—hurt, trapped—sent something ugly clawing inside his chest. He couldn’t let himself picture it. Couldn’t let himself feel it.

“She ain’t got time.” He said, his voice quieter now but no less desperate. “We gotta go now. We don’t wait. I ain’t lettin’ that son of a bitch keep her another second.”

His gaze flicked around the group, searching for any hesitation, any sign of doubt. He started walking, his hand on his rifle, his jaw clenched and a fire in his eyes. He was about to open the cell door to leave when a figure appeared in front of him.

Michonne appeared in front of him, her katana strapped to her back, staring him in the eyes.

“Michonne.” Rick gritted out, staring at her furiously. “Move.”

Michonne didn’t budge. “You can’t just walk out there alone.”

Rick’s nostrils flared, his grip tightening on the strap of his rifle. “I ain't askin’.”

Maggie, standing with her arms crossed, exchanged a look with Glenn, worry plain on her face. “Rick, we all want her back. But we go in now, we’re walkin’ into a slaughter.”

Rick didn't turn around but his chest heaved. He knew they were right, but logic didn’t matter in his mind—not when it came to you. He couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t breathe right.

“She’s tough.” Carol said softly, stepping forward. “She’s strong. She’s holdin’ on. And we are gonna get her back, Rick.”

Rick shook his head and stumbled back. “I shoulda’ been there.” He muttered under his breath. “Shoulda’—shoulda’ protected her.”

His voice cracked, and his shoulders tensed when he realised you weren't there in that moment to put a hand on his shoulder and reassure him.

Daryl clapped a hand on his shoulder instead and Rick flinched at the unfamiliar warmth from his hand. “We’re gonna fix it. But you gotta keep your head, aight?”

Rick closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. “I need her back. I can’t—” He stopped, his throat tightening again. “We move out at sunrise. No longer.”

And if anyone had a problem with it, they could fucking stay behind for all he cares.

A dull throbbing pain echoes through your skull, dragging you out of your unconsciousness. A bright light immediately hit your eyes and your head lolled to the side, immediately squinting your eyes when a sharp sting stabbing your temple, where dried blood lay.

You shifted more and your felt the cold bite of the chair, sending a shiver up your spine. Your froze and tried to move more, only to realise that your eyes were tied behind your back.

A low groan escaped your lips as you blinked, your vision swimming in and out of focus. There was a dim light above you, casting a dark shadow across the room and then you saw him.

The Governor.

He sat on a chair, in the corner, legs crossed watching you with amusement gleaming in his one eye. “Look who’s finally awake.” He drawled. “I was startin’ to think you wouldn’t make it.”

You swallowed, tasting copper in your mouth and rolled your jaw, trying to relieve the pain. “Sorry to disappoint.” You muttered, voice hoarse. “Hope you dint’ miss me too much.”

The Governor chuckled. “I knew Rick had a thing for the feisty ones.”

Your stomach churned at the mention of Rick, but you didn't show how it affected you and rolled your eyes. “That why you dragged me here? To talk about my love life? Aren't you a gossip girl?”

The Governor gritted his teeth, irritation flicking through his eyes as he stood up, walking towards you. “Actually, darlin’, I brought you here, not only because Rick defied my orders and now I'm teaching him a lesson, but I wanted to see if that smart mouth of yours would hold up after a few. . . reminders.”

“Well sorry to break it to you, darlin’,” You tilted your head and smirked. “But you're not as scary as you think.”

It seemed he didn't like that very much by his fist connecting to your right cheek. Your head snapped to the side and blood dripped from your lip. You let out a ragged breath and your turned your head to face him again, a smirk still playing on your lips.

“Is that really how hard you can go?” You rasped out. “Rick hits harder.”

His eye twitched and his fist flew at your face again, and again, making your vision blur. Your ears were ringing and you were swimming in and out and focus but you refused to let yourself break. Not in front of him. Not ever.

You tasted the sweet but salty metallic taste of blood in your mouth again but you swallowed it down and a weak laugh erupted from your mouth, making the Governor's jaw to clench in irritation.

“You're fucking weak.” You slurred, earning another punch to your face. Your head snapped to the side and you tilted your head back. “Come on, really? I thought you were like, the big bad wolf.”

“You never know when to shut up, do you?” He snapped, his voice low.

“Not when I'm having this much fun.” You smiled fakely and met his gaze head on.

His hand shot out, grabbing your chin in a bruising grip, forcing your head back. “You think this is fun?” He sneered, tightening his fingers on your jaw. “Let's see how fun it will be when Rick watches in front of his very eyes as I kill you.”

He let go of your jaw and pushed your head backwards. You pouted mockingly and frowned at him. “Are you sure you want to kill me when I have this pretty face?”

Another punch landed on your face because of your comment and your head snapped to the side once again. You whistled and you used most of your strength to loll you head back so you were facing him.

“You're getting really worked up.” You pointed out, amusement gleaming in your eyes. You then took notice of his knuckles that were now dripping blood. “You should really go and clean that up before it gets any worse. You know, don't want your blood mixing with mine. That's so unhygienic.”

There was obvious sarcasm in your voice but the Governor didn't seem to comment or do anything about it. His jaw clenched and a chuckle escaped his mouth. “I can't wait till’ I wipe that grin off your fucking face.”

“Good luck, darlin’.” You called out mockingly as he walked towards the door.

“Let's hope Rick hurries,” He said over his shoulder and then turned to look at you. His eyes roamed over your bloody face but they landed on your bare thighs. “I’d hate for him to find you in worse shape.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you in the dimly lit room. You let out a shaky breath eyes flickering to your bare thighs, no trousers, only thing protecting was your underwear.

A cold shiver went down your spine as the weight of his words draped over you like a blanket. Your breath hitched but you refused to show fear — the sick bastard wanted that.

And you would never give him what you wanted.

Swallowing, you shifted in your chair, testing the tightness of the ropes around the wrists. Your jaw clenched as the ropes didn't give in, not even a little. A frustrated sigh erupted from you and you eventually gave up, trying to free your hands.

You looked around, trying to look for something to help you out but there was absolutely nothing in sight for you to use. You couldn’t even use the chair to help you because it was metal. What the fuck?

Sighing, you slumped back into your chair and dropped your head forward. You shut your eyes closed and tried to steady your breathing but you only had one thought one thing in your mind.

Rick, please hurry.

Rick’s hands moved with precise precision, loading rounds into his rifle. His jaw was tight and his eyes were dark with anger as he loaded a magazine in his pocket.

There was no way in hell he was waiting until sunrise.

His breath was ragged, his pulse pounding in his ears as his hands moved with urgency. The thought of you out there, alone, with him—it made his chest tighten, made his fingers curl a little too tightly around the rifle in his hands. Every second that passed felt like another knife twisting in his chest.

He needed you. Now.

He put down the rifle and grabbed his revolver, slipping it into his holster, when a voice cut through the quiet night.

“You didn't think that you would go without us, did you?”

Rick froze, fingers hovering over the rifle. Slowly, he looked up, his sharp blue eyes finding the rest of them. Standing there was Michonne with her arms crossed and her katana resting easily on her side.

Daryl, with his crossbow already in his hand, a knowing look on his face like he already expected this. Glenn stood next to him, a rifle slung over his shoulder, a tense but resolute expression on his face. Maggie stood behind him, arms crossed and Tyreese stood next to her, nodding at Rick firmly.

Rick sighed, running a hand down his stubble. “Knew I couldn’t slip out without you noticing, huh?”

Glenn stepped forward with a tired smile. “We knew you’d try and sneak off while we were sleeping.”

Daryl huffed, stepping forward with Glenn. “Ain’t your fight alone, man.”

Rick exhaled, nodding, his glaze flickering between all of them. He didn’t necessarily like leaning on others but right now he was very grateful. He swallowed before looking over at them once again.

“Where’s Carol?” He asked gruffly, reaching for his holster.

“She’s stayin’ back.” Maggie answered. “Lookin’ after Judith and Carl with my daddy. Said someone had to keep things together here while we go.”

Rick nodded again, putting the rifle strap over his shoulder. He couldn't argue with that. Carol was smart—she knew what had to be done. But right now, he wasn't focused on that.

“Alright,” Rick said, his voice firm. “Let's go.”

And as they moved through the prison, Rick only had one thing in mind. The Governer had you. And Rick was coming for him.

Rick had been angsty the entire drive to Woodbury. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight that his knuckles turned white as he sped down the road. His foot pressed harder on the gas pedal was his other leg shaked.

The truck engine roared in response of going faster but Rick didn’t care. All that was on his mind was you.

Michonne had looked at him and had told him to calm down before he drives them all into a ditch. Her exact words.

Her words didn’t exactly help much but no one expected it to. He lost his mind when it came towards you and he was already too far gone. The only thing that was keeping him afloat was that he would deliver you home, safely, in his arms.

However, his mind drifted off to the negatives that made his chest close up. If he couldn't find you. If he touched you—

Rick’s nostrils flared from where he was walking down one of the corridors of the Governor’s house. Explosions were going off in the background which was Glenn and Maggie’s doing.

Footsteps followed behind him as he kicked one of the doors open and quickly looked inside to see if you were there. He repeated the same process for a few more doors down and panic clawed in his chest when he saw you weren’t in any of them.

Shit. Where were you—

“Rick! She's in ‘ere!”

Rick ran the fastest he could in his life. He had his gun raised if anyone else was in the room but the gun in his hand slowly clattered on the floor as he took you in. It felt like as if time slowed.

The sight of you nearly took him to his knees in despair.

Slumped in a chair, all bruised and bleeding. His hands trembled as he roamed his eyes all over you, taking in every cut and every bruise. Your head hung forward, your face swollen and battered and a trail of blood ran down your temple. Your trousers were gone, leaving you in your underwear.

He crossed the room in three long strides, falling to his knees before you with a shaky exhale. His hands were cradling your face with such gentleness that you wouldn't even know that he was angry, if you didn't see the violence in his eyes.

“Oh God,” He murmured, his voice breaking as he stroked your cheek, where dry blood was. “I'm ‘ere, sweetheart, I'm ‘ere.”

At his touch, your eyelids slowly opened and you smiled weakly as you saw him in front of you. “Fucking finally.”

At your words, Rick let out a weak laugh as Daryl worked on untying the ropes behind your back. He pressed a long kiss against your temple and he shut his eyes as he felt tears coming to them. “I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so sorry.”

Once Daryl got your ropes undone, you winced and rolled your shoulders from being in that position for so long. Rick’s hands were on you again, checking you for any more injuries he missed. His eyes landed on your thighs and if possible, his eyes darkened even more as he saw bruises litter all over your thighs to your legs.

He lifted his eyes up to yours but this time, his voice was low and dangerous. “Did he touch you?”

You shook you head, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Not like that. Dickhead just used his fists.”

Rick let out a shuddering breath and took off his jacket, placing it on your legs before picking you up bridal style, making sure you were comfortable.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you heard explosions going on outside, and you craned your head to look up at Rick as he carried you. “Why do I hear explosions?”

Rick walked down the dimly lit corridor, with you in his arms and the rest following behind him, weapons ready. “That's Glenn, sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you racked your brain for a ‘Glenn’. “Our Glenn? Pizza delivery guy, Glenn?”

Daryl gave you a look as he walked beside Rick, crossbow in hand. “You kno’ any other Glenn, sunshine?”

You shrugged. “Glen Powell.”

“I think he might be dead by now, sweetheart.” Rick huffed out a laugh as he turned to walk down another corridor. However, the laugh abruptly stopped when he saw there was door at the end of the corridor, a few metres away from where they were supposed to leave.

His eyes darkened, the reminder of what happened to you but then he looked down at you. You looked up at him, somehow knowing what he was thinking and nodded.

Rick took that as consent and gently handed you over to Daryl, who put his crossbow on his back and carried you in his arms. Rick kissed your forehead and you murmured a ‘be safe’ to him.

“Get her out of here. Keep her safe.” Daryl nodded at Rick and left through the exit, towards the outside. Everyone else followed him except Michonne, who looked at him.

“You need help?” Michonne asked and Rick immediately shook his head.

“Nah, need to do this myself.” He gritted out and walked towards the door. He kicked the door open, seeing the back of the Governor and he felt something indescribable rise in him.

I found you, you son of a bitch.

The Governor barely had time to register what was happening before Rick slammed him against the wall, his forearm pressing hard against his throat. The room was dark, the only source of light coming from the corner, casting shadows across Rick’s face and the Governor almost shuddered.

He looked like he came out a fucking nightmare.

“What the hell were you going to do with her?” Rick growled, his voice low, and trembling with barely restrained fury. His eyes were wild, his face inches away from the Governor’s. “You sick son of a bitch.”

The Governor smirked, his one good eye locking onto Rick’s. “She put up a fight, I’ll give her that,” He rasped, his voice dripping with something vile. “But I was just getting started.”

Rick snapped.

His fist connected with the Governor’s face so fast and so hard that there was a sickening crack. The Governor’s head snapped to the side, blood splattering against the wall, but he wasn’t done. Not even close.

He punched him again. And again, until he fell to the floor and Rick straddled him and carried on punching him.

“You touched her?” Rick’s voice was ragged, broken, each word punctuated with another punch. “You thought you could lay a fucking hand on her?”

The Governor’s head lolled to the side, blood streaming from his nose and split lip, but Rick didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. All he could see was you, tied up, bruised, bleeding, and he suddenly went rogue.

Rick’s hands curled around the Governor’s throat, pressing down, his breathing ragged and uneven. His fingers dug into the flesh, cutting off his air, and for a moment, all that existed was the sound of the Governor’s choking gasps and the blood roaring in Rick’s ears.

“I should kill you slow.” Rick seethed, his teeth bared in a snarl. His grip only tightened, his thumbs pressing harder into the man's windpipe. “Make you suffer for what you did to her.”

The Governor clawed weakly at Rick’s arms, his face turning red, then purple. But Rick didn’t feel mercy—not for this sick son of a bitch.

“You don’t get to live.” Rick hissed, his eyes cold, empty. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind screaming at him to finish it, to make sure this shithead never laid eyes on you again.

Surprisingly, he went against his mind and got off the Governer when he heard walkers banging on the door from all the noise inside. He walked towards the door, ignoring the Governor's wheezes behind him.

“However, you don't deserve to have a quick death.” Rick stared the man in the eyes as he pulled open the door, allowing the herd of walkers to enter. The Governor’s eyes widened as he saw what Rick had done and started to scramble away.

Rick hid himself behind the door so he could watch as the walkers walked towards the smell of blood, but hidden enough so they couldn't see him.

He felt a sense of pride when the Governor let out a scream when a walker took a bite out of his arm. The Governor looked at Rick and only saw coldness in his eyes and as he walked away, he started to realise one thing.

He really shouldn’t have fucked with Rick Grimes.

Rick admired you as you slept on his lap, in the backseats of the car. Daryl was driving and Michonne was in the passenger seat. Maggie, Glenn and Tyreese were in car behind them.

His fingers gently ran through your hair as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. God, even with cuts and bruises littering your face, you were still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life.

He gently tucked you more into the blanket, making sure you don’t get cold. Because of his action, you stirred and your eyes flickered open slowly.

He noticed and started to gently run his fingers through your hair again. “I’m here,” He said softly, his voice breaking through the quiet of the vehicle. “I’ve got you. Just rest.”

There was something about his tone that made you believe him and you rested back onto his lap, eyes looking up at him. He smiled and rested his hand on your cheek, stroking it softly.

You smiled back, leaning into his hand and your eyes fluttered closed. You let out a breathy sigh and your eyes flutter open again, something like vulnerability in your eyes. “Did you. . .?”

Rick nodded before you could finish and you let out a sigh of relief and took his hand that was stroking your hair and pressed a kiss on the back of it. “Thank you.”

“He had it comin’,” He replied, interlocking your fingers with his. “Shouldn’ have took what was mine.”

You chuckle and then it is silence for a few moments. “How bad do I look?”

“Exactly the same.” He said, smiling at you gently. “Left looking like the most gorgeous girl in the world, came back looking like the most gorgeous girl in the world.”

You rolled your eyes, but still smiled at him. “I love you.”

“Love ya’ more, sweetheart.” He replies and then starts to stroke his fingers through your hair once again. “Go back to sleep. I'll wake ya’ up when Hershel checks on you.”

You nod, exhaling through your nose softly and fluttering your eyes shut. A few minutes later, your sound asleep again, cuddling up on Rick’s lap.

He watches you for a few more moments, his hand still gently brushing over your hair, careful not to wake you. There’s a softness in his eyes that he shows around you, what the others haven't seen in a while.

You shifted in your sleep, nuzzling more into his chest and his arms instinctively tighten around you. He let out a shaky breath and rested his chin on top of your head. His mind travel to tonight’s events before he realised that none of that mattered.

All that mattered was you being in his arms and the steady of your breathing. And as the car drove back to the prison, Rick Grimes made a vow to protect you as long as he shall live.

Because without you, a piece of him was missing.

You couldn’t help yourself though, it’s been quite a while since you’ve been able to drink. Not to mention the need to quell your anxiety about even being here in the first place.

And then there was Rick.

Rick, who you’ve been in love with since the farm. Rick, who has danced around you almost like he was afraid of his feelings. Rick, who told you you’re too young for him.

Rick, who has been sticking close to Jessie since you all got here.

You watched him from across Deanna’s living room, smiling as he drank whiskey and chatted with the beautiful woman.

It made your chest hurt.

You’re too young. I’m almost twice your age.

It also made your head spin.

I will break your fucking legs if I have to, if you push me to, in order to keep you from going. You understand?

The difference between his words of youth and the way he looked at you after his threat were stark. Leaving you confused, especially now.

Rick had apologized to you, back in Noah’s old community, after the two of you split off from Glenn and Michonne.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” He said, not meeting your eye.

You nodded, “I know.”

The way Rick’s shoulders slumped after that told you how much he regretted what he said. Yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that, if a similar situation presented itself, he would do it again.

That had to mean something, right?

And yet…

“So, how did you end up with Rick and the rest of your group?” Spencer asks, breaking you from your thoughts.

After taking another long pull from your quickly depleting glass of wine, you answer, “Well i’ve known some of them since the beginning of all this, like Glenn and Rick. Others we’ve met along the way. And we’re not just a group, we’re a family.”

Spencer nodded and held his hands up in mock surrender, “My bad, your family. Everyone in this community has become something like a family too, but I doubt it’s the same as yours.”

“No offense but, yeah, it’s not the same.” You chuckle and are relieved when he does too.

After a moment Spencer leans in a little closer, and you’re just drunk enough to let him, “You know, you guys were pretty scary looking when you first came in.”

Giggling again you raise an eyebrow at him, “Really?”

“Yeah, especially Rick-“ Spencer’s sentence is cut off by the call of your name, and you turn to see Rick. He’s not looking at you though, despite addressing you, his eyes are pinned to Spencer.

“Speak of the devil.” You chuckle, turning yourself so you can face both men, “We were just talking about you.”

“Were you now?” Rick says, his voice deep and the smile he wore not meeting his eyes.

You could tell something was off, you’d seen that look on Rick’s face before, but your drunken mind ignored it, “Yeah, apparently everyone was scared of you when we first got here.”

“Really?” Rick replied, eyes still pinned on Spencer, “No reason to be, unless you cross me, of course.”

There was a threat hidden in there, and when you turned to look at Spencer you noticed just how pale he was, “You know, I actually forgot that I was supposed to help my brother with something in the kitchen. It was great talking to the both of you though.”

“You too.” Rick replied before you could, and then Spencer was gone, like he was never even there in the first place.

You turned and frowned at Rick, “What was that?”

“Nothing.” He grumbled, polishing off the glass of whiskey you hadn’t realized he had, before finally looking at you, “Just don’t talk to him anymore.”

Your eyes widen in surprise before narrowing at Rick, “And why not?”

“Because.” Rick all but growls, his eyes hardening, jaw clenching, obviously telling you to just drop it and listen to him.

But you’re now officially four glasses of wine deep and pissed off, “I can talk to whoever I want. Now why don’t you go back to flirting with Jessie and leave me alone.”

You turn to walk away, maybe go find Deanna’s sons in the kitchen and really try to piss Rick off, but Ricks hand quickly wraps around your bicep and pulls you around to face him again, “Don’t.”

The word is spit at you, and this whole situation reminds you of that moment in the woods. A threat you haven’t been able to forget about no matter how hard you try. Hating the way it affects you in a way it really shouldn’t.

Glaring right back at him you rip your arm from his grip, “Fuck this, i’m going back to the house.”

You get away this time, stumbling a little as you go, only hearing a frustrated call of your name behind you.

The cool night air is nice against your heated skin. You didn’t even realize you were that warm until you stepped out.

The walk back to the houses Deanna gave you guys is slow. You stumble your way through the sidewalks of the suburban paradise, trying to calm the anger that bubbles under your skin.

The nerve of that asshole.

About half way there, you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. You already know who it is before you turn around, being able to make out the sound of those boots even drunk.

Just as you suspected, Rick is quickly approaching, almost jogging in order to catch up with you.

“Go away, Rick.”

“You shouldn’t walk around alone at night drunk.” Rick snaps, finally making it to you to walk just a step behind you. Like he’s guarding you.

“Even drunk I can take on any of these sheltered kids.” You scoff, trying to ignore his presence.

“Still-“

“Still what, Rick?” You snap, whirling around to glare at him. “You’re drunk too, hypocrite, so it’s not much better.”

“Quit acting like a child.” Rick hisses, his nose doing that scrunching thing it does when he’s extra angry.

“I’m acting like a child? Me?!”

“Yes-“

“You’re the one who scared off a guy for simply talking to me!” You shout, way too loud for the still of the night. “Despite the fact that you have been flirting with someone all night!”

“I wasn’t flirting with Jessie.” Rick says, getting closer to you.

You back away from him though, trying to keep a healthy distance so that your anger doesn’t fizzle out from just his proximity, “Yeah right, you’ve been plastered to her since we fucking got here.”

When he doesn’t respond, your heart sinks, so you continue on, having nothing to lose, “Why do you even care if I talk to a cute guy anyway, huh? Thought I was “too young” for you.”

Rick was closing the distance again, grabbing both of your arms, forcing you to stay. “Stop.”

There’s that tone again.

“You know,” You start with a humorless chuckle, “For a guy who claims to not want me, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

“I never said I didn’t want you.” He snapped, face so close to yours you could smell the whiskey on his breath.

Your eyes widen, his eyes widen, and you speak before he gets the chance to backpedal, “Then do something to keep me. Something that isn’t threatening to break my legs.”

It’s silent for a long, agonizing time. Rick just staring at you, still holding your arms and keeping you close. Your warm breaths fog in the cold night air, fanning each other’s faces and the tension is so palpable you can almost taste it.

Then suddenly he’s moving, stepping around you and gripping your wrist to tug you the rest of the way to the house. You wordlessly stumble after him, even without his grip you would follow him.

Once the two of you make it to the house, Rick all but drags you up the porch steps. The front door opens and closes so fast you don’t even register entering the house until your back is pressed against the wood. The loud slamming of the door gives you both pause, waiting and listening to see if any of your family had slipped away from the party early too.

The lack of response leaves the two of you staring at each other in the quiet again. Instead this time it isn’t in the cool night air, but inside a warm house that continues to grow warmer.

With Rick crowding you against the door, hot alcohol tinged breath’s mixing, and his eyes flicking down to your lips, you couldn’t help but beg, “Please.”

And finally, finally, Rick Grimes leans down and kisses you.

It’s slow at first, just a solid press of lips as you both sigh into it. Then he begins to move his lips against yours, running his tongue along the seam, and you kiss back, opening your mouth for him. The mixing taste of wine and whiskey makes your head dizzy and you moan, bringing your arms up to wrap around his shoulders.

Rick groans, his hands coming up to grip your waist, pulling you closer. His hands slide around your back, down over your ass, squeezing it in a way that makes your breath hitch into his mouth, before slipping down to grab the back of your thighs. You instinctually jump, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands tighten their hold on you, keeping you up, and your back hits the door again.

The kiss quickly grows desperate, your fingers tugging at his freshly cut hair, missing his curls. Rick makes a deep noise in the back of his throat and removes his lips from yours, dragging them down your jaw to lick at your throat.

You moan embarrassingly loud, pulling him closer, “Bedroom, please, need you.”

Rick nods against your neck, taking one last moment to suck a nice red mark on the curve of your jaw, and takes a step back. You tuck yourself closer, letting Rick look at where he’s going, using the opportunity to kiss and lick and suck on his neck. His hold on you tightens, and he slides a hand across your ass, holding you with one arm as he starts up the stairs.

You press a wet, open mouth kiss against his pulse and Rick stumbles a little. He reaches out to find balance on the railing, hissing out “shit” and making you giggle.

“You got this.” You tease, leaning up to bite at his ear.

Rick groans again, whether from frustration or pleasure, you can’t tell, and grunts, “Shut up.”

You can hear the smile in his voice.

Slowly and carefully, Rick gets both of you up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Kicking the door closed and flicking on a light, he lays you down on the bed and kisses you again. His tongue pushes into your mouth, his hands on either side of your head holding him up, and you desperately start untucking his shirt.

Rick sits up and pulls his button-up and undershirt off in one go, leaving his torso bare. You stare up at him, dazed from the kisses and the man on top of you, and realize that this is happening.

This is actually happening.

“Fuck.” You whisper, and reach up to fumble with his belt buckle. The sound of the metal is way more obscene than it should be, and once you pull the leather through his belt loops you look up at him. Rick’s lips are parted as he stares at you, eyes dark as they move between your hands at his waist and your eyes.

Suddenly he was pulling your shirt over your head, his fingers gliding along your skin as he did so, “You too.”

You nodded and reached around the unclasp your bra. Once free you shrugged out of the straps and threw it in a random direction, not caring where it landed, and looked back up at Rick.

That look was back on his face.

“Fuck,” Rick whispered, bending down again to kiss along your neck, across your shoulders, nip at your collarbone, before sucking in the skin of your breast. You moan, arching up into his touch and reaching down to start shimmying out of your jeans and underwear.

“Why haven’t we done sooner?” Rick slurred against your skin, his tongue lapping at your nipple.

Kicking yourself free of your bottom layers you grab Rick’s hand, that was busy massaging your other breast, and slide it down the length of your body until it was between your legs, “Got only yourself to blame.”

Rick moans, loud and unabashedly, and immediately curls his fingers inside of you. You’re already wet, have been since he kissed you, so the feeling of his fingers slipping inside your pussy makes you whine your own noises of pleasure.

His fingers curve up, instantly finding that sweet spot that makes you see stars, and start grinding into you. Rick leans his head back up to yours, kissing you deeply before whispering, “I’ll make it up to you.”

You nod, and keep nodding like you’re incapable of stopping. The squelching sound of his ministrations is almost embarrassing, and you move your hand still gripping his wrist to the button of his jeans.

“Please,” You beg, already so far gone you don’t even care anymore, pulling the button loose, “Please fuck me, I need it so bad.”

Suddenly Rick’s fingers were gone, his hands batting yours away as he unzipped his pants and pulled himself out. He didn’t even fully take them off, and you watched him stroke himself with his slicked fingers a couple of times before settling between your legs and pushing inside of you.

You cry out, hands grasping at the bed sheets and toes curling, the sudden fullness makes your back arch up into his. Rick doesn’t give you a moment to adjust or even finish a moan before he’s moving, quick and almost brutal. The clapping sound of your hips meeting is almost deafening but you still hear his curse, “Fuck, you feel better than I imagined.”

His words cause goosebumps to rise on your skin, and you reach up to pull him close, locking him into another kiss.

Both of you are moaning messes, huffing into each other’s mouth and eyes rolling. It’s perfect, so perfect it would bring you to tears if your eyes weren’t already filled with one’s brought by pleasure. You can feel the heat in your abdomen growing, pulling you closer and closer to the edge.

Rick suddenly pulls back to look at you, and you struggle to keep your eyes open to focus on him as he all but growls out, “Don’t talk to him again. You so much as laugh at his joke and I’ll fucking kill him, got it?”

You’re nodding again nonstop, and your tears finally spill down your cheeks, “G-got it. Fuuuck.”

“Yeah, let yourself go. Cum on my cock, mine, nobody else’s.” Rick dips his head down into the curve of your neck, sucking down on your pulse.

That was all you needed. Your nails claw into Rick’s back you cum, back arching and legs shaking as you moan obscenely.

“That’s it, fuck, just like that- s-shit.” Rick’s hips stuttered as he came inside of you, filling you up even more and pulling another moan from you.

The pleasure racking through your body was almost painful, and you held onto Rick tightly as you came down from your high. Slowly your limbs began to feel like jello and your eyes grew heavy, and before you could stop yourself you were slipping into unconsciousness.

—

Your pounding headache was the first thing you registered when you woke up. Next was the stiffness in your body, then the horrible taste in your mouth.

But then there was the comforting weight of an arm holding you tight against a warm chest. Small puffs of air rhythmically hitting the back of your neck, a pair of legs tangled with yours under warm sheets.

The fuzzy memories of the previous night filled your mind’s eye. You smile, eyes still firmly shut, and relax further into the warmth of Rick behind you.

He smiled up at you, all sleepy and groggy, “I’ve already made you cum.” The older man referred to two minutes ago when his fingers were knuckles deep inside of you.

Naturally, you had a much higher sex drive than Rick. Much more stamina too. He was at least ten years older than you, it was only inevitable.

“I need you,” You pout, hands tangling in the thin material of his sleep shirt, “Need your cock.”

Rick smirked at that— his eyes heavy but a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Baby. . .” He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say no to you, especially not with that look on your face— your soft pink lips in a pout, big doe eyes looking into his, he couldn’t resist. “Alright, but I’m not gonna help.” He pulled his cock from his sweatpants, pumping himself in his hands.

You eagerly smiled, already naked from your previous activities, now straddling his lap and lining your entrance up with the tip of his dick.

Eyes falling shut as you sink down on his length, a string of breathy moans leaving your parted lips. “Oh, Rick!”

The man let out a groan, hands flying to your hips in order to control your movements.

“There you go. Such a needy girl, huh?” His fingers dug into your hips, rocking you back and forth on him.

“Mhm!” You agreed, incoherent mumbles leaving your mouth, vision going fuzzy as your orgasm approached. “Oh, oh. Oh, mmmgh, Rick.”

“Yeah, come, baby.”

In a second you did. Already.