#nice rack rick

[andy-clutterbuck]

The Ones Who Live - 1x01 - Years

#i need to..... #Rick Grimes #* #rg #The Ones Who Live #EXCUSE ME #if i said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me #i love arm #anyone remember those sticky hand things you'd get from grocery store quarter machines #that'd be my existence #just rest your head on a tiddy and have a think ya know #S O L I D #nice rack rick #so well proportioned and fit without being bulky i hate bulky #the mold broke #no it didn't you could make a mold #gonna invest in those kneeling pads people who garden a lot use #and stock in Halls or Ricola #until i can't walk tomorrow #until the neighbors call the cops

[carlsdarling]

kissing and teasing carl until he gets soo uncomfortably hard in his pants..only to leave him like that. MAYBE letting him grind against my hand so he can cum in his jeans if i’m feeling nice

Teasing

Y/N likes Carl, but Carl likes Enid and Y/N gets annoyed and teaches Carl a lesson. Bit more of a plot, than sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, slightly Bratty! Reader

It pissed you off. In the morning you had left for a supply tour. In addition to you, Carl and Enid were also participating, and as always when Enid was around, Carl paid little attention to you and groveled around Enid. And Enid didn't even show much interest in him, at best amicable. That's how it appeared to you, anyway.

You gritted your teeth. Carl had picked up a red crop top with lace trim from a clothing rack at the supermarket you were looting and held it out to Enid. "I think this would look great on you," he proclaimed.

"I don't think so at all," you growled softly. The top was not Enid's style whatsoever. Enid raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

And so it went on throughout the day. Enid this way, Enid that way. There was just no end to it. Why didn't Carl understand that you liked him? Or didn't he care?

Finally, as dawn broke, Rick declared the tour was over. "Good idea," you muttered with a nasty sideways glance at Carl who was still babbling at Enid. You packed a box of toothpaste, carried it outside, and stowed it in the trunk of one of the cars, then sat down in the back seat, sulking and brooding to yourself. The others were still busy in the surrounding stores, but you were fed up; you didn't feel like it anymore.

After a few minutes, Carl showed up on the street, carrying several packs of toilet paper. He spotted you, waved, and approached the car. After throwing the toilet paper into the trunk, he opened the car door and sat down next to you. "Whew," he sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. His bandage looked scruffy and his hair was disarrayed.

"To what do I owe this honor?" you asked pointedly.

Carl eyed you uncomprehendingly. "What are you talking about?"

"Where's Enid?" you responded with a counter question.

"She went with Rosita and Maggie to that shoe store over there," he made a vague hand gesture down the street. "Enid really needs new boots; she walks around outside so much that the soles of her boots are coming off, and..." he expounded.

"I don't give a fuck about Enid's fucking boots!" you hissed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" asked Carl angrily. Silently, you looked out at the empty street. In your opinion, Carl didn't deserve an answer. He exhaled a long drawn out breath. You eyed him from the side. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair fell into his forehead. Your gaze wandered to his hip, where his underwear showed above the waistband of his jeans.

"Your pants are slipping," you remarked. Carl grumbled something unintelligible and lifted his hips to adjust his jeans. "If you were hoping that Enid would somehow be impressed with you now and jerk you off afterwards, I guess you're out of luck," you said in an indifferent tone.

Carl looked at you in amazement. "What...what makes you think that's what I want?"

"Oh, you don't?" you said with a sneer. Carl looked down at his knees in shame. Somehow his behavior provoked you, and you moved closer to him and put your hand on his left thigh, drawing little circles on the fabric. Carl moaned softly, and within seconds you felt him getting hard. You stroked his hair back behind his ear and kissed his cheek, then traced a wet trail down his neck to his collarbone with your tongue. Carl unexpectedly turned his head and pressed his somewhat rough but soft lips to yours. He tasted of the Coke and salty peanuts he had eaten earlier. You returned the kiss almost angrily, biting lightly into Carl's plump lower lip.

"Keep doing that, please," he whimpered, pressing himself against your stroking hand. You had proceeded to caress his cock through his jeans, and Carl's hands moved to his belt and buttons; apparently he wanted to pull his pants down.

You slapped his hand slightly. "Don't do that," you admonished him.

"It's so uncomfortable when I'm hard in my jeans," Carl complained, squirming in his seat. "It hurts."

"The others are going to show up any minute. We need to do this quickly, and really, I don't know if you even deserve it." You stopped paying attention to his erection. "You're probably just imagining Enid. So maybe you should wait until Enid gets back from the shoe store and ask her to finish you off."

"No, I'm just thinking about you, Y/N," Carl assured desperately. "Please, Y/N, go on." He already was a mess; face flushed, hair messy, lips slightly parted, Carl was completely focused on his arousal.

"All right, on one condition, Carl," you said tartly. "That red top you offered Enid earlier when we were at the supermarket. You didn't actually offer it to me, and that's what made me so pissed," you bitched, pinching him mildly in the side so that he winced. "You're going back to the supermarket first thing tomorrow to get it for me."

"Yes, yes, anything you want," Carl vowed. "I didn't think you'd like the top. But I promise I'll get it for you."

Satisfied with that statement, you finally started again to pleasure Carl. He grinded against your hand and your wrist vigorously, while you were palming and rubbing him. Carl bucked his hips into your hand, moaning and whimpering, eyes screwed shut. Amused, you watched how fucked out he looked, how he lustfully wrenched his cute face. You continued to stroke and tease his cock, until Carl let out one final groan and cum. Wetness was spreading on the front of his jeans, and Carl's head sank back in exhaustion. Eyes still closed, he licked his lips, unable to speak. His breathing was heavy.

You spotted Enid walking toward the car, a shoebox stuck under her left arm. She opened the passenger door, gave you both a distracted look, and babbled, "It was almost impossible to find decent boots without high heels, apparently the store has been looted several times, and..." Then she seemed to register the strange atmosphere in the car. Examining, she observed first you, then Carl, who still looked fucked out and had hastily covered the wet spot in his crotch with his right hand. "Is there something wrong? Carl, you look kind of... disheveled," she complained.

"Um, I...I'm feeling hot, and I have sort of a headache," Carl lied.

Enid eyed him for almost a minute, him and his right hand still resting in his lap. "For sure," she then said scoffingly, shaking her head.

--

Tags: @loveforcarl @tessasweet @knochentrocken0808 @taylormarieee

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes imagines #carl fanfiction #carl grimes smut

[leclercstarrs]

childhood friends, daryl dixon.

summary: in which you reunite with your childhood friend, only for him to underestimate your value in the current state of the world.

warnings: fem!reader, surgeon!reader, typical twd violence, and not proof read atm.

notes: request from anon! i put a small twist on this request so i hope you enjoy! also i really need to start proof reading my work right away cause i feel like there might be tons of little embarrassing mistakes i haven’t noticed so let me know if that’s a common thing on all my ‘not yet proof read’ fics because if so i’m going to go back and fix them, ty bbies!

One thing Daryl Dixon still remembers about his life before the dead started walking, is his childhood best friend. The girl that he always went to when he was upset, the girl that always knew how to cheer him up, and that same girl that eventually moved away before the two of them started high school, leaving him heartbroken as her and her family drove off to go live in a small community far away from him, not looking back.

Whenever the memories of that girl cloud his mind, he feels pathetic, quickly reminding himself that she’s probably a walker now, having absolutely no memory of him or her own childhood.

However, the one possibility that sounded insane to him, happens to be the reality. That girl is you, who’s younger self hated her parents for ripping her away from everything and everyone she’s known since birth to move to Alexandria, but now is extremely grateful for them, as she has a safe place to stay in during the world going to shit.

“(Y/N).” A loud voice calls you from outside your house, causing you to walk downstairs and open the door. “Deanna, what’s up? It’s like three in the morning.” You sigh, leaning on the door frame, wearing fluffy slippers and a pair of shorts with a tank top. “We have a group that just arrived, some of them need medical attention and check ups.” The older lady explains, bring your attention to the group of people standing in the middle of the road with Aaron. “Alright, one second.” You nod, grabbing your jacket off of the coat rack and quickly putting it on, then following Deanna towards the group.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is (Y/N) (L/N), she’s our nurse and she’s going to do routine check ups on everyone.” The leader of your community explains to the new residents, causing everyone to turn to face you. “Um, I’m gonna check the children first.” You say, a warm smile on your face, hoping to relieve the tension between everyone. “(Y/N)?” Someone says, causing your eyes to follow their voice, being greeted by the sight of someone you recognize. “Daryl?” You gasp. His eyes are wide as you run up to him and hug him, “Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever! I didn’t even know if you were…” You don’t finish your sentence, assuming he knows what you were going to say. “Yeah, same.” He breathes out, warming up to the hug and wrapping his arms around you. “You know her?” Another man cuts in, causing you to pull away from Daryl. “She was my friend way back, before high school.” He explains to the other man, “Sorry, who are you?” You ask. “Rick, Rick Grimes.” The man, who you now know as Rick, hesitantly replies. “Oh, nice to meet you. These are your children, yes?” You glance at the young girl he’s holding and the older boy that’s next to him. “Yes.” He nods. “Okay, Do you mind if I take them to the infirmary and check for bites or injuries? It’s a typical procedure here.” You explain. He doesn’t respond. “You can of course come with us.” You add, hoping it convinced him, “Yeah, sure.” He agrees this time. “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” You softly smile at Daryl before turning around, “Come with me, please.” You instruct Rick and his family. “(Y/N), let me know if there’s any issues.” Deanna stops you before you start walking, a concerned look in her eyes. You raise an eyebrow, slightly confused at her worried state, “Of course.” You continue walking.

“Okay, Daryl, your turn.” You walk out of the infirmary room, gesturing to the man that’s sitting on the porch of the building, waiting for the other member’s of his group do get done with their checkups. “Mk.” He gets up, following you back into the room, closing the door behind him. “So, just sit here.” You tap on the chair in the middle of the room, “I’m basically just asking you questions about how you feel and checking your temperature, things like that.” You say your usually ‘speech’, something you usually do in hopes of comforting new group members. “Alright.” He sits down, watching as you shuffle around the room, grabbing a pen and clipboard off of one of the counters. “First question, do you have any bites or scratches?” You ask him. “That’s a stupid question. That’s why these people got you askin’?” He scoffs. You bluntly stare at him, “It’s procedure.” The man shakes his head, “Naw.” You check the ‘no’ box on the paperwork. “Okay, common symptoms of being turned include a fever, so I’m going to check your temperature now.” You plsce your clipboard to the side, getting off of the small stool and walking towards a cabinet filled with medical equipment. “Ya even a real nurse?” Daryl asks. “I went to university, then graduated, then became a top surgeon, so yeah, I have most of the skills to help people.” You roll your eyes, turning around and sitting back down on the stool in front of him. “Ahh, big shot.” He hums as you check his temperature. “No fever, you’re hopefully, not infected.” You sarcastically smile. “Now, you and your friend Rick are coming on a supply run with me tomorrow morning, so go get some sleep.” You stand up and gesture for him to leave the infirmary. “Your coming on a supply run? I don’t think you should, it’s dangerous.” He gives you a weird look. “I think I can handle it.” You laugh his comment off. “Based off the rest of these people, y’all don’t stand a chance if these walks come down, not without my group.” He adds. “I can handle myself. Some of the other residents might not have as much skill as your group, but I assure you, I got just as much experience as you. I’ll be a great addition to the supply runs. Anyways, I usually do them, at least before you guys got here.” You glare at him, roughly closing the medical cabinet. He doesn’t say anything, worry and doubt in his mind as he leaves the room, shutting the door and leaving you alone to clean up.

“Morning.” You walk up to the two men that are standing just outside of the gate, talking to each other in low whispers.“Good morning.” Rick turns around when he hears your voice. You nod, not bothering to make any more conversation, considering your last conversation involved Daryl undermining your capability of navigating the state of the world outside of Alexandria. “Close the gates.” You yell back to the lady on watch, you think her name’s Rosita. “Got it.” She starts closing the gate as the three of you walk away from the safe haven, heading towards a nearby town.

“We need more baby food, for, uh, Judith.” You mumble, reading the list on the small crumpled paper you’re holding. “Daryl.” Rick’s panicked voice sends shivers down you spine, causing you to look up with a concerned look on your face, greeted by the sight of a small group of walkers inching closer to you and the two men. “Shit.” You huff. The three of you quickly get your knives ready, moving away from each other and towards the walkers. While Rick and Daryl deal with the rest of the dead, you deal with about five of your own. Plunging your knife into each of their skulls, you quickly kill all of them, leaving blood splatters all over your clothes. “Am I capable of going on supply runs, now?” You turn to face Daryl, opening your mouth to continue, but quickly running towards him when you notice a walker push him over and fall on top of his body. “Rick!” You call the other man’s name, who just finished dealing with another walker, to get his attention. He turns around and is quick to follow you towards the other man. However, you get there before him, standing over the Walker and jamming your knife into the back of it’s head. Letting out a tired sigh, you wipe some more blood off of your forehead, then shoving the body of the walker off of Daryl. “Thanks.” He manages to breathe out. “Mhm.” You nod. You know it’s stubborn to still be pissed about what he said to you when he almost got eaten alive, but considering you saved his life despite his lack of faith in your survival skills, it felt too ironic.

Walking up and down the aisles of the small and abandoned grocery store, Daryl follows you around like a small puppy. “Why are you following me around? Go follow Rick.” You shake your head, tossing another box of old pasta into your bag. “Rick’s in the other store, I wanted to shop in this store.” Daryl scratches the back of his neck, attempting to create an excuse to walk with you, or really, follow behind you. “Sure.” You roll your eyes. “Hold this.” You abruptly stop and pass your bag to Daryl, the man taking it from you and watching as you stand up on your toes to reach a different box of pasta that’s on the highest shelf. “Here.” You drop the pasta box down, Daryl managing to catch it with your bag. Standing back down, you take the bag back from him, before moving to walk down the next aisle. “I’m sorry, alright? I know you’re capable of handling yourself, I just hadn’t seen you in so long and all those other residents have barely even seen the outside world since moving to that place.” He huffs, grabbing your arm before you can continue to sulk around the store. “I haven’t seen you in, I don’t even know how long at this point, and one of the first real conversations we had, involved you making a snap judgement and regarding me as useless aside from being a nurse.” You look at him, your tone harsh. “I’m sorry, how many times I gotta say it?” Daryl scoffs. “I want you to admit that you were wrong.” You cross your arms, holding them up your chest, your mouth pressed into a firm line. “Fine.” He pauses, “I was wrong, you’re not useless, I never even meant to say that.” He continues. His voice is low like usual, but his facial expression tells a different story, a soft look in his eyes with a small but genuine smile forming. “You’re forgiven.” You hold yourself back from smiling, “I guess.” You shrug. “You’re more stubborn than me, huh?” He laughs. “Always been that way, remember when I didn’t talk to you for a full day because you took my ice cream?” You playfully bump his arm with your arm, “Oh, I remember.” He says.

Daryl never thought he’d see you again, but now that he’s standing right in front of you, the two of you laughing and making jokes, he can start to feel those certain butterflies he felt in his stomach from when he was younger. The butterflies that only showed up whenever he was near you.

#this doesn’t exactly follow the show plot cus i wanted to change some things #this is mad long but it was hard to fit everything into one fic #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n

[aliidarling]

the less i know the better pt. 2

RICK GRIMES x fem!reader x DARYL DIXON

part 1

nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable

summary: everything is fun but then u try and run away... they arent very happy :(

tags: nsfw obvi, p in v, forced entry kinda, double penetratrion, degrading, humiliation, anal, throat-fucking, creampie, manipulation, face slapping, mean rick and daryl, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap...)

nsfw content below !!

They kidnapped you. Were you really gonna let them Stockholm syndrome you into staying? That would be pathetic-- Plus, Negan would kill you. He’s probably already sending other soldiers out to find out where you were. You hoped he wouldn’t be on your ass about your disappearance when you got back.

Because you would get back. You’d make sure of it. It didn’t matter if they were so gentle with their hands and how they kissed you. In the end, they were from Alexandria and Negan wanted them dead.

You tried to keep these thoughts in mind as you swiftly snuck out of the house, light on your toes. You held your breath. It was late at night in Alexandria, the streets empty, and the subtle sounds of zombies gnarling outside of the walls the only thing audible for miles.

It was chilly. You hugged your thin jacket around you a little tighter, glancing around cautiously. You carefully walked towards the back of a few houses. After being here for some time, you had managed to pick up on some clues and hints on how to get out of here.

Just a few days ago you came across Carl and Enid sneaking out of the gates by climbing it and dropping down onto the other side. You thought it was dangerous, but anything to get out of here, right.

Placing a foot on the gate and your hand on one of the ridges, you started to shakily climb it. You felt the small creaking noises, making your heart thud.

Don’t fall, don’t fall, you thought to yourself. Being found dead after sneaking off would be very embarrassing.

You had barely climbed a few feet when someone’s hard grip clasped around your ankle and yanked you down aggressively, making you let out a loud high-pitched squeak.

The man manhandled you over his shoulder. You heard his grunt and immediately knew who it was, even if all you could see was his back. You struggled over his shoulder, thrashing.

“Let— Let me go!” You screech.

“Shut the hell up.” He growls darkly, slapping your ass as a way to silence you. Your squeak makes his grip harden, and he turns towards his house and starts walking.

“You’re so ungrateful.” Rick says lowly. His voice sends shivers down your spine. You had never heard him sound so mean. He had his moments in the last few weeks where he had gotten angry with you, yes, but you could tell this was different.

“You kidnapped me!” You yelled back in defense, scoffing at his audacity. You thrashed harder, kicking your feet and trying to get free of his hold. You manage to kick him in the gut, which makes him brutally slap your thigh after he lets out a grunt.

“Shut the fuck up, you have no idea what you’re in for. I’ve been treating you so nice, so gentle, and you go off and do this shit?!”

You glared at his back. “You forced me to submit to you and Daryl!”

“Like hell we did, all we did was shove a few fingers into that tiny cunt and you were moaning for us. We didn’t even have to sweet talk you, you’re just a slut at heart who’s depraved of male validation.”

Ouch.

You go silent as his words echo in your head, his vulgar language making you squirm slightly over his shoulder. Rick being the man he is, immediately notices and speeds up his walk, nearing his lawn.

“God, of course, you’re getting off on this.” He groans in annoyance. “I could beat the shit out of you and you’d be into it.” He snickers meanly. “Maybe I should.”

You let out a whine, wiggling some more. He enters his house and throws you down on his couch. He walks off to his coat rack, takes off his iconic brown jacket, tugs at his shirt collar, and sighs lowly. He swore, you were making him grow more grey hairs, and he wasn’t even that old yet!

“You’re stressing your old man out, sweetheart.” He coos mockingly, a dark glare being cast your way. You flinch and shrink on the couch, hugging your flimsy jacket around you.

“You deserve it.” You grumble. He rolls his eyes.

“Fuckin’ brat.” He mumbles.

Just a few minutes later Daryl comes barging through the door, his body language pissed. You stiffen in discomfort as his eyes come straight to yours.

“I’m sorry—“ You squeak quickly, but you’re silenced by Rick smacking your cheek. You yelp, clutching your cheek with a shocked look as you gaze up at the two men.

They both stare down at you with scowls and crossed arms.

“How far did she get?” Daryl grumbles, turning to Rick and giving you a stinky side-eye. You grimace.

“The gate—“ You start, only to get bonked harshly by Rick once again.

“Did he ask you? I don’t think so.” He glared. “Now shut the hell up, girl.” They both turn away and start exchanging whispers and growls. They were both pissed at you, you could tell. You didn’t know what to do.

After another few minutes, they both slowly turn to you again. This time, a different glint was in their eyes. One you recognized. You shivered as you started to lean back slightly, your frown deepening. They notice and snicker in amusement, Rick coming to grab your shoulders and push you down onto the floor.

You yelp loudly, your knees knocking against the floor as you stumble and land on your hands and knees.

“Stop it, that hurts!” You pout, leaning your weight on your thighs as you sit on your heels. Rick grabs your hands and pulls them behind you. You squirm in discomfort.

“Ouch.” You grumble. Daryl walks in front of you and starts unbuckling his belt. Your eyes widen, and in seconds you’re face to face with his large bulge. You gulp nervously, looking up at him through his lashes.

“You want me to…”

“Yeah, ya’ stupid bitch, it ain’t that hard. C’mon.” He huffs. You resist rolling your eyes at his language, frowning up at him before looking back down at the bulge shoved in your face.

You attempt to pull your hands from Rick to pull his boxers down, but his grip on your wrists tightens.

“How the hell do you expect me to suck you off when I can’t even move?!” You say with an exaggerated tone. This was so damn annoying. You couldn’t give the man the blowjob he was asking for because of him and he was getting angry?

“Figure it out,” Rick says from behind you. You hear the sound of Ricks's belt unbuckling, and the feeling of hard leather wrapping around your wrist.

“This is not fair, at all—“ You whine loudly as you squirm and tug at the restraint, your face still shoved in his boxers. You yelp when you find yourself getting slapped by Daryl. Your bottom lip trembles as you look up at him. That was mean.

“Shut up before I force it down your throat, lil’ girl. Now use your teeth to pull down mah’ boxers, hmm? Or are you too stupid to do that?” He scoffs, his hands coming to grab at the sides of your face and press your nose into the fabric of his boxers.

Your nose scrunches up as he does this, a frown painting your expression. You hesitantly bite at the waistband, struggling but eventually managing to pull them down just enough for his cock to spring out.

“You don’t have to be so mean about it.” You mutter to yourself, leaning closer and giving his tip a little kiss. His breath hitched, a snigger leaving his throat.

“Ya’ think you deserve gentle treatment after that stunt you jus’ pulled?” Daryl glanced at Rick with a look in his eyes, seeking approval for something. Rick, who was now kneeling behind you and starting to unbutton your jeans, nodded.

Before you could speak another word, Daryl’s large hands cup your head and start to push it down on his cock. “Lips around teeth, yeah, just like that, now c’mon, nice and easy, don’t want you to puke all over my cock.” He mumbles, eyes narrowing as he sees his cock slowly disappear into your mouth.

Your protests all go muffled as you feel him filling your mouth, your gag reflex having your nose scrunch and eyes water. Rick from behind you starts to shove his hand down your pants, rubbing at your thin panties. You let out a surprised yelp at the feeling, which makes Daryl groan at the vibration.

“Oh yeah, see— I knew you were just a lil’ cock hungry, now you got cock down your fuckin’ throat and you’re all better, right? Not gonna run away anymore, right? Shake your head for me, baby.” He coos mockingly as he starts to bob your head up and down forcefully.

Tears well up more as you give him a shaky nod, barely holding it together as you feel his head hit the back of your throat. You start to gag.

Rick from behind you stops his rubbing on your clothed-pussy and whispers in your ear, his hand coming to rub your throat.

“Easy now, sweetheart. Relax your throat.” He hums. You try your best to relax, squeezing your eyes shut as some gags leave you. Eventually, you relaxed enough for Daryl to start thrusting his cock into your mouth smoother, back and forth.

Daryl throws his head back, groaning at the way your throat hugged his cock.

“Jesus Christ, fuckin’— throat is like a vice.” He scoffs, his eyes barely open as he starts to thrust more hard. Your body squirms but is immediately held back down by Rick. His hands shove themselves back down your pants, going to rub at your clit.

While Daryl uses your mouth like a glory hole, Rick is snickering at how wet you are. His fingers glide across your panties towards the damp spot. You flinch at the contact and try to pull away from his wandering hands, blushing intensely.

Daryl’s grip on your head tightens as he feels you squirm. He somehow forced his cock deeper, making you let out a muffled cry. Tears stream down your cheeks at the intrusion in your throat, being fucked relentlessly.

Eventually, he cums in your mouth and pulls back with a low groan. He stares down at you, pumping his semi-hard on in front of your panting face. You use this time to breathe in deeply, trying to grab onto every breath of air you can take.

“No more, please—“ You whimper, blinking up at him. He doesn’t listen to you and pumps himself for a few more seconds before finishing all over your face again. You gasp as his cum squirts onto your expression, your nose scrunching up. You shrivel up, mouth twitching.

Rick holds back a laugh at how pathetic you look. He turns to the side to grab a towel, handing it to you with a condescending pat on the head.

“That was just humiliating, man.” He shoves Daryl’s shoulder, the both of them staring at you. You sat on the floor on your knees, drying the cum and tears off your face as you tremble, coughing every few seconds.

“Girl deserved it.” Daryl huffs. He glanced at you, Rick, and then motioned towards you. Rick smiles and nods. He quickly comes up to you, picking you up by your armpits. You yelp, dropping your towel and squirming. He picked you up so easily.

“Hey—“ You weakly protest before getting silenced by the large man carrying you. They both drag you into Rick's bedroom, setting you down on the bed.

You barely have time to do anything before their hands are all over you, Rick pulling your jeans and panties down in one go while Daryl’s sticky hands grasp your chin and pull you in for a kiss. You’re being manhandled and fondled, squirming and trying to pull away before eventually kissing back.

Rick's hands pull down his jeans, a large bulge in his boxers. The view of your throat getting brutally fucked must have made him hard, no surprise about that.

Daryl sits himself against the headboard, his large hand pumping his now fully hard cock, his other hand patting his lap.

“Bring er’ here, facing me. Wanna see that pretty face.” He says. Rick plops you down onto Daryl’s lap. You had forgotten about the belt around your wrists, but when you attempted to tug at your hands to wrap them around Daryl’s neck, you were pleasantly surprised. You grimaced.

“I’ve been good, c’mon, just untie me, please.” You attempted to plead with puppy eyes, feeling Rick from behind you grab your shirt and bunch it above your chest. He wasn’t able to fully pull it off because of your wrists so he just compromised.

“Shut up before we gag you.” Rick scoffs. He sits behind you, his hands coming to spread your legs.

“Should I use lube?” Rick says to Daryl. Daryl blinks before grumbling.

“Yeah, don’t wanna tear her ass apart.” He snickers.

Your heart drops as you start to squirm and protest..

“W-Wait, what? You’re not going in my ass! Please don’t!” You whine. Daryl grabs your head and shoves it into his chest, your voice going muffled. You let out a cry as he uses his hand to raise your hips and position your pussy above his hips, sliding you down gently. He shushes your whimpers and cries as you feel your walls get stretched out without prep.

The only lube provided was your natural slickness, and in the end, even with how wet you were, you were no match for his girth. Your thighs tensed as he slowly bottomed out inside your tight cunt. His head leans back against the headboard with a heavy sigh, blissed out from how snug you were wrapped around him.

Tears come back from the burn in your lower body, trembling. Your voice shakes, pleading quietly as Rick behind you spreads your butt cheeks and prods at your pucker. You flinch and curl into Daryl’s chest, shaking. He giggled and brushed his hand through your hair, his other hand holding your hips down.

“Don’t—“ You’re silenced by Daryl’s lips on your own. Your protests are muffled as you lean into the kiss slightly, your wrists sore from the harsh restraints.

“Tight fuckin’ ass,” Rick grumbles from behind you. You hear something squirt, before yelping when something cold is pressed against your pucker. You shudder, pussy tightening around Daryl, making him groan in ecstasy.

“Don’t make er’ cry even more, as cute as it was we don’t wanna damage any internal bits.” Daryl snickers against your lips. You whine.

“How about you just don’t go in my—“ You’re silenced by the feeling of a thick cock starting to enter your tight hole, eyes widening in the pain. You squeal loudly, trying not to sob from the pain but failing. You had never had anything in that hole, and now there was a man behind you forcing himself deep into it.

“Good girl, just take it, you deserve this.” Daryl hushes you gently as you mewl from the stretch, your body tensing. Rick groans from behind you, his hands tight around your waist, holding you down as he slowly but surely bottoms out.

Once he’s fully buried inside you, they go still, watching as you sniffle and let out tiny cries. You were shaking from the intrusion, lips pressed together tightly as you did your best not to let out any sobs. You failed. Being stuffed with two cocks in both holes, front and behind, was overwhelming and you had no idea how to even cope with something like this. The last time you even had intercourse with someone was months ago— and it was some smelly Negan lackey who was looking to get his dick wet, and you were just really desperate for relief.

Rick's hands massage your waist tenderly, humming into your ear as he feels your tight hole clench down on him. He lets out a raspy groan, readjusting his hips with a little shift and making you yelp at the friction. He holds back a laugh.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He cooed mockingly, grinning at Daryl. They both stared at your shaky body, before tightening their grips and starting to slowly thrust. Your eyes widened at the feeling of them both sliding in and out simultaneously. Your eyes squeeze shut as your lips fall agape, producing moans at how full you feel. Each time one would pull out, the other would shove themselves to the hilt.

“You’re not gonna run away, ya’? You love these cocks too much, stupid lil’ slut.” You couldn't even tell which one was saying what anymore, your brain all mushy and your body like putty in their hands. You let an incoherent cry in response. They both chuckle.

“She's braindead, what a dumb little bitch.” Daryl laughs at you as he starts to thrust harder up into your cunt, humming happily at the sounds he was forcing you to produce. He tightens his hold on you so he can have more leverage, leaning back and groaning. It felt so good. The other man behind you grabs the back of your head, pulling your hair back as his thrusts start to gain speed.

Soon enough, both of them were making you sob from pleasure as they wrecked you, battering your insides from every angle. Rick had his hand wrapped around you to rub at your clit, the other one holding your hips firmly.

Daryl passionately kissed you, groaning as he thrust upwards into your dripping hole, his hands fondling your breasts roughly. He pulled and tugged at your nipples, making your arch deepen.

“Oh, o-oh, please, I’m gonna—“ You choked out, tears painting your flushed cheeks, tugging weakly at your restraint. Rick pulled at your hair harder, groaning at how your walls tightened around him.

“You wanna cum? Hmm? Promise you won’t be a stupid brat and try to run away again?” He sneers, pressing his chest firm against your back, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his cock twitching as he felt his orgasm start to near.

Your words were sloppy itself, whimpering incoherent rambles of words, desperate for a release.

“Y-Yes— Yes— p-promise!” You whined into Daryl’s chest, sobbing and shaking as they held you tightly and smothered you with their bodies. You were sandwiched completely, full, and happy.

“We find you running away again, we’ll slut you out for hours and force our cocks in every hole you have, got it? Don’t be an idiot, nod like a good girl.” Daryl huffs, pushing your head into his chest and silencing your moans and sobs. Your dumb little noises and pleas have them both snickering.

“C’mon then girl, we don’t got all day.”

Rick's fingers rubbing at your clit intensely, Daryl twisting your nipples, and their cocks shoved so deep in you eventually have you clenching down and spasming around them. You cum hard on Daryl’s cock with a loud mix of a cry and moan, quivering.

Just shortly after, they both finish in you, watching their juices drip out of your abused holes as they slowly pull out. Their eyes flicker to your face and how you were completely limp, lying on Daryl’s chest for support.

“Good girl, baby, took us so well. We’re so proud of ya’.” Daryl gently wraps his arms around you, smiling darkly at how they both ruined you. He motions to Rick to grab a pair of clothes and a towel for you.

Seconds later, Rick carefully took you from Daryl’s arms. He scooped you up and sat you down on the edge of the bed, spreading your thighs with a pat and wiping you off with a bathroom towel.

“How ya’ feeling?” Rick hums softly, smiling at you. It was like a complete switch from how they were just brutally fucking you.

“Tired.” You mumble lamely.

You hear a small chuckle leave both of them. Daryl gets off the bed to pull his clothes back on, but not before untying your wrists and pressing a sweet kiss to your red bruise. You frown as you gently rub your sore wrists, wincing.

“Sorry sweetheart, but that’s what you get when you decide to be all brave and run. But you learned your lesson, didn’t you?” Rick says sweetly. You smile weakly and mutter a shaky, “Yes sir.”, before raising your hands when he says so.

He slides one of his cotton tee shirts onto you. He smiles at the adorable sight of you and cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a small kiss. He then squished your cheeks as you let out a little whine, pressing kisses all over your soft skin and nose.

“Let’s get ya’ in bed, probably so tired. Poor baby.” He whispers softly to you, tugging on one of his pair of boxers before picking you up once again, carrying you to his bed, and tucking you in.

You lay there still, frowning as you were babied by the two men. You didn’t know what to say. You liked the feeling of them taking care of you, but the reminder of the situation you were in sent goosebumps down your back. They had kidnapped you and forced you to stay with them.

This was so fucked up. But what could you do? A part of you was starting to like them.

“Goodnight, baby.” Daryl ruffles your hair, climbing into the bed and nuzzling his face into your chest. Rick spoons you from behind, his legs tangled with yours.

“Night.” You say quietly, with no energy to speak up.

You had nowhere to run.

guys can u tell i’ve never had it up my ass

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes imagine #daryl dixon x reader #rick and daryl #daryl dixion smut #daryl dixon #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead smut #the walking dead #daryl dixion imagine

[blackbat05]

Thief

Rick Flag x Reader

Plot: The weather hasn’t done any favors, leaving you out of clothes. Thankfully, you know where you could grab some in case of an emergency.

Genre: PG-13 (Shared clothes trope)

A/N: I’m sorry if this was so brief and not as well written🥲 I realized I haven’t wrote Rick in a while and it proves because this was sitting in my draft for a good 3 weeks? Final semester so many things were going on. Still hope you enjoy it!

Yes, the yellow shirt makes an appearance😩

Sweating buckets, you stumbled into the shared apartment. Making a beeline for the fridge, you grab a bottle of water, gulping down the liquid like it’s your lifeline.

Curse the fickle minded weather. You swore the weather forecast saying something about breezy winds. It didn’t say anything about a blistering hot morning.

You immediately made your way to the showers once you were sure you could properly stand and not collapse midway.

Shortly after, you stepped out of the shower, satisfied with the cooling sensation lingering on your skin. Opening your closet to retrieve fresh clothes, you realize one problem…

You were out of tops.

Of course. With the unpredictable weather, you finally managed to get your clothes out to dry without having to worry about the torrential rain. Your friends around you convinced you to just get a dryer or head to the laundromat but you were dead set on not having to spend more money than you already were. So natural drying it was.

You racked your head for a solution. Sure, you would have been contended lounging around naked but the windows were too close to the building opposite your apartment and you had intention of jeopardizing you modesty with creeps these days.

An idea lights in your head. Of course! Why didn’t you think of that. You opened Rick’s part of the cabinet, pulling out a yellow shirt. Slipping it through your head, you were glad for the new soap powder you had bought just last week for the smell had mixed nicely with Rick’s scent. As his shirt had covered you nicely, you decided to opt for no shorts enjoying the cool air on your legs.

It felt as if like he was hugging you from behind while you went around your daily tasks. Heat long forgotten, you started to hum your favorite tunes, time ticking away.

The door rattles slightly before revealing Rick with a couple of brown bags in each hand. You don’t seem to notice him as you focused on making breakfast for the two of you.

His eyes can’t help but to roam your figure, specifically what you were wearing. Rick recognized that blindingly bright yellow shirt from anywhere. Honestly, it only reminded him of unsavory memories but when you wore it, the distaste for it somehow disappeared.

“Hey baby.” Rick gently calls out so as to not alarm you. You turn around, spatula in one hand and an infectious smile on your face. Now that you were facing him, Rick feels a flutter in his chest seeing how effortlessly elegant you looked despite the casual home wear.

“You’re back!” You made sure the stove was switched off before making a beeline to the counter where Rick was sitting. “Did you get everything on the list?”

Rick nods proudly. “And I figured you could do with some ice cream especially after that run.”

His brain momentarily short circuits as you give a bone crushing hug, feeling your skin exposed by the lack of shorts press against his own.

“You’re the best! What would I do without you.” An arm around Rick’s neck, you rummage the shopping bags with your free hand only to be stopped abruptly by him. You give him a puzzled look. Rick takes a few steady breaths.

“Is that my shirt you’re wearing?”

You glanced down, holding the piece of fabric between your two fingers. “Oh… this?” You carefully scanned his unreadable expression.

“Yeah, I didn’t have any fresh clothes so I kinda grabbed one from you… if you don’t like it I can change! I’m sure one of mine would have dried in this heat by now.”

Before you could ramble any further, Rick nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “Don’t, I love it.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. “In fact, take this shirt. I want to see you wear it more often.”

Rick’s sudden straightforwardness leaves you blushing. Despite how long you had been together, Rick always made you feel like you were the prettiest woman in the world.

You gently pry yourself away from him, looking at his gaze that was dripping with honey. “Alright then,” you decided to feel a little cheeky today, “I’ll keep it! Don’t say that I’m a thief or something!”

He laughs. “Darlin? That’s exactly what you are. A thief to my clothes and my heart.”

Rick turns away from you, preparing to help you with breakfast. He can’t help but to grin, knowing very well that you were left agape at his smooth delivery.

You barely managed to pull yourself together, mumbling how you were going to fold the clean laundry since he was at the stove. As you leave the kitchen, Rick can’t help but to stare at your thin underwear that was covered by his large shirt.

Yeah, he’ll get more of those darned shirts if he had to.

#rick flag x reader #rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag #joel kinnaman #the suicide squad

[cultofdixon]

I Found Yea, Bunny

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Never did he think he’d find anyone to love him, then when someone did. The world ended • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Canon Violence / PTSD / Anxiety Attacks / Injuries

Note

“You still moping baby brother?” Merle kicked Daryl’s leg to get him to say anything. “What? Ain’t gonna talk when you’ve convinced me to stay at this pig’s camp? Come on Darylina, you’re killing me here”

“Fuck off Merle. Ain’t you going on that run?”

“Yeah, but the second I come back. No survivors” Merle jokes for the most part as he picks up his hunting rifle. “Seriously. If you’re still moping and being a lil bitch because of Y/N you just gotta get over it. She’s gone”

Hearing that last part for probably the millionth time, only started to trigger him. She can’t be gone kept him standing.

________

“See that chick over there? The short one”

“I don’t care about your next catch of the week, Merle.” Daryl scoffs taking another sip of his beer when a waiter walks by setting now another set of beers without either of them asking. “Hey wait I ain’t—“

“Curtesy of the two lovely ladies over there” They state before taking Merle’s empty one and heading back behind the bar.

Merle instantly wraps his arm around his brother staring at the two with him seeing obviously the more confident one wave at them as the other was more shy.

“I’ll take the taller one with the nice rack, and you take the shy one” Merle whispers patting his back making Daryl choke on his beer quickly wiping at his face as the two made their way over. “Heya ladies”

“Hey yourself, mind if we join you?” The one Merle was eyeing inches closer to his person making the smirk grow on his face.

“This is going to be a disaster” Daryl whispers to himself only for the other woman to giggle to his words.

“Wanna bet who’s going to ruin it? She’s not the steadiest drunk” She whispers back smiling when one started to crack out on his face.

“Bet it’s my brother and…?”

“I’ll bet on my friend Rachael. But I will most likely win”

“And why is tha—“ Daryl stops talking when Racheal suddenly jumped Merle’s bones right then and there. Knocking off her glass and his beer resulting in the broken glass. “Shit.”

“Nights still young I guess” the woman laughs watching the two roll on the dirty bar ground making one of the bar keeps come over to smack them with the broom to get up. “Didn’t catch your name by the way…didn’t get his either but he’s busy”

“Daryl…you?”

“Y/N”

________

“Why did you…not give up? Like the others did…yeah me askin’ shouldn’t matter anymore because..” Carol still couldn’t believe the whole barn situation, let alone what happened to her daughter.

“I’ve lost enough.”

And with that Carol knew more about Daryl than anybody else. He didn’t go into the grand details about it, all that before he and Merle met the quarry group…Daryl was looking for his other half. Not giving a damn of what Merle had to say about it. They hunted, stayed alive, and searched. That was it until something secure came along.

But seeing Rick be with his family, after being separated for months…Daryl wanted that same feeling. That same joy of being reconnected with the one you love.

Now the second good thing after the CDC, the farm was up in flames as Daryl got him and Carol out of there on his bike.

________

“Hey stranger” Y/N smiles letting Daryl into her studio as he was already looking around the place.

“You took these?” Daryl points to the still of the wildlife on one of the many tables as Y/N walks up beside him smiling.

“Yeah, cool right?”

“How’d yea manage to get them to stay still?”

“You said you hunt right? With your brother?” Y/N tilts her head waiting for Daryl’s confirmation which was a nod and a grunt. “Imagine without your weapon and bright orange vests…a camera and a bit more camouflage”

“You…being careful right?”

“Oh I don’t do this in hunting grounds, or well. Forests that have been reported to have people hunt in them before.” Y/N reassures hun with her always shining smile, letting him continue to go through the photos. “I have been asked to document hunters for a catalog. Going to get a few new hunting rifles and a couple compound bows, if you and your brother are interested”

Daryl thought about it as he couldn’t help the joy bubbling in him to hang out with her again. That night at the bar lead to coffee in the morning while his brother and her best friend were still occupying Daryl’s shitty apartment, and another night for drinks but just the two of them to get to know one another without taking care of somebody other than themselves, which brought them to Y/N’s studio that she was also living in.

“Yeah, why not”

Y/N squeals happily and hugging on Daryl as he instantly wrapped his arm around her. “You’re going to look great”

“Maybe bring Racheal to occupy Merle”

“Oh totally, or nothing will get done”

________

Daryl lays uncomfortably on the rocks after rolling down it from when the horse bucked him off and from using what little energy he had to try and scale the steep mountain to get back to the farm. He was in and out of consciousness when he perked up hearing her laugh.

“You’ve got yourself in a pickle, baby” Y/N knelt down beside Daryl’s body gently caressing his face. “Did Merle do this?”

“Nah baby….H-Horse…”

“Now you never learn from that one time, and you weren’t even the one bucked off that horse” She laughs and he couldn’t help the painful smile he wore listening to her. He was willing to die just listening. But he couldn’t. “Stay awake D. Once you find that sweet girl, you gotta find me.”

And with that. He did his best. His best got him back to the farm, walker looking and all, next thing you know.

Fire

Thud

Pain. A whole lot of fucking pain.

Once they questioned Daryl about what he found and Hershel having his priorities confirmed, he was finally left alone to recover in the safety of the house. Letting him get some much needed sleep.

________

Daryl watches her sleep peacefully beside him listening to her cute little snores and watching her curl up inching closer to his person. He couldn’t help himself by closing the space and gently wrapping his arm around her sleep form feeling her do the same pulling herself into his chest. He smiles listening her satisfied sigh when she finally got comfortable in his embrace.

“Stop watching me and sleep…” Y/N mumbles in a sleepy daze, smiling feeling him shift to cage her in his embrace. “Goodnight baby”

“Sweet dreams bunny”

________

He couldn’t help the tears that spilled waking up the next morning.

•

The prison became their home after they lost so much and fought for their safety.

Daryl wishes that the bus of Woodbury folk held his other half in it. But as he came to disappointment once again, he went back to it. Taking daily runs just to search for her and would always come back empty handed on that front. At least he doesn’t have to watch his found family starve or freeze to death given he’s been bringing back everything he could find. Feeling a little bit of joy in their happy faces when his runs were never focused on that to begin with. But just as important.

“Hey Daryl, hold up a sec” Glenn calls out to him right as Carl and Rick were about to open the gates for him.

“Need somethin’?”

“Yes and no…” He sighs. “We need to save up on gas for the run to that mega store. Don’t get me wrong, what you’re doing is helpful. But we really need to be more careful with our limited supplies”

Daryl knew he was using the supply they’ve had to do these runs and it was going to be brought up eventually. Guess his spontaneous runs at any hour, every day, have come to an end.

“Hey pookie” Carol smiles, enjoying the fact that that nickname annoys Daryl, watching him sit down beside her at one of the tables outside. “Couldn’t go on the run?”

“Got told not to. It’s whatever”

“Mmm. Is it though?” Carol nudges Daryl for more of what’s on his mind. More of why he does these runs. “You’ve always been looking for something and every time you come back with much needed supplies…but the look of disappointment rest in your eyes. Daryl what are you looking for out there?”

Carol is one of the few that Daryl trusts with his life and part of him didn’t want to talk about it. Or it brings the thought of loss back in his mind. The same thought that has him laying wide awake at night or waking to the anxiety inducing nightmare that his other half was ripped apart from the undead and or tortured by the monsters of men that litter the new world. But he couldn’t keep it a secret for much longer…

“My girl”

________

“Hey! You made it” Y/N smiles removing herself from the small group surrounding one of her photos displayed so that Daryl could happily bring her into his embrace. “Surprised Merle released you from whatever devilish act he had planned”

“A six pack did it”

“Figures” Y/N smiles parting from Daryl just enough to take his hand and walk with him through the whole exhibit. It was more than her art on display but Daryl could care less about the rest. Only hers was the best.

Daryl waited for the showcase to be over and he hung back to help take down what wasn’t sold of Y/N’s work. But also for him to have a more intimate moment with her.

“I’ve got somethin’”

“Yeah?”

“And I don’t wanna scare yea off, or think I’m moving too quick” Daryl sets down the once hanging piece to lean up against the wall before reaching into his pocket to take out a ring. Y/N was about to drop the pieces she was holding if Daryl didn’t explain himself right away. “It ain’t engagement. Even if I’m sure yer it for me, more a promise. Until the real deal”

“D, this isnt like…the blood money from Merle—-“

“Nah I stopped doing his crazy shit a bit ago. Have been doing commission for bikes and got a gig at a garage…you’ve…made me better and just wanted to do somethin’. Showed me love without consequence or pain…I just. Gotta know—-“

“I love you” Y/N cuts him off, setting everything in her hand down so that she could let him put the ring on her finger before taking his face gently in her hands. “You don’t have to say it back immedieatly. Timing is different for everyone…but I love you, and I know I want you in my life for the rest of it. Even after”

Daryl instantly pulled her flush against him feeling her arms find their spot around his neck as his around her waist. Taking in everything about her in that moment.

She was his other half

________

And he was hers

“Aaron, I don’t think these people will take our offering like it’s nothing. It just randomly appears”

“What do you suggest then?”

“We’re talking suggestions now?”

“Yeah, cuz Deanna saw potential with you in recruitment so thought I’d ask” Aaron whispers to Y/N beside him as the two were tracking a group for some time now.

“Our community isn’t the only one. That’s the feeling I get. These people, we don’t know if they got screwed over or not. They will be hostile and we can’t take that like it’s nothing”

“So…give up or what”

“I didn’t say that. Just if we get caught. Or Eric. Stand your ground but not with your weapon.” She frowns not liking the sound of the commotion coming from this group she couldn’t get a clear look of. “We need these people to trust us. And the element of surprise, is awful in this hell” she takes the binoculars from Aaron to get a look but were caught off guard by a walker approaching that he took care of. “Never was much a fan of surprises in the old world…”

“Didn’t you say your husband surprised you with that ring you’re wearing?”

“Yeah but that’s different”

“How so?”

“He was my other half” Y/N stored the binoculars in her back when the rain started. “We should head back to Eric, and discuss our next course of action”

“I agree with that notion” Aaron covered her back as they made their way to the cars they brought out from their community.

________

“One of my buyers, thought I got married because of my ring” Y/N fiddles with one of Daryl’s many wrenches from his work station in her garage as he was working on her car.

“What’d yea say?”

“Played along. I like the thought of you as my husband. My big strong protective sweetheart husband” She smiles watching the tips of Daryl’s ears turn a bright red when he said such as he tried to cover them for a moment.

“Told the guys at the garage yer my wife anyway”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, so they know if they fuck with yea. I’m knocking their teeth in” Daryl held his hand out for her to place the wrench she was messing with in such.

“But they can get the hint just from girlfriend”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the idea”

“Is that you asking me Daryl Dixon?”

“Yea want it to be?” He stops working to look at his girl who became a blushing mess at the thought, especially when he smirked at her knowing damn well she’d like that.

“I’d like some display. Nothing too public. Just us still” Y/N smiles spreading her legs from her seat on his bench for him to slot himself perfectly between them. Leaning into her, resting his hands on the table. “What?”

“I’ve got somethin’ but for now, yer my wife to everybody who asks”

“Unless it’s Merle and Racheal”

“Motherfuckers would be like “took yea long enough” let’s be real”

“Very true Dixon” She smiles pressing her lips against his shortly after as he quickly picks her up holding her up by the thighs. “Baby!”

“Think I need a break with my bunny” He smirks kissing her once more before carrying her inside.

________

“I’m not alone”

“Really now?” Rick glares into Aaron’s soul as he quickly drops everything in his person to avoid getting hurt even further if that was bound to happening. “Who else is with you?”

“My partner and my best friend. Except my friend is closer to this location”

“And y’all didn’t find her?” Rick questions Maggie and Sasha as the two looked at each other confused before watching the retired sheriff take Aaron by the collar. “Where the fuck is she?”

“Her husband was a t-tracker. Hunter—-she knows how to hide. Says it’s what saved her from outbreak day to now” Aaron was close to shaking but what he said perked the attention of the archer who stopped aiming his crossbow at him. “I can call her but you have to let go of me…”

“Rick” Daryl interrupts whatever thought he was having about such as Rick gave him a confused look. “Trust it. Let him. Now.”

The confused look stuck as he lets go of Aaron for him to reach into his bag keeping eye contact with Rick as he took his radio out.

“Dixon, come out.”

The name caused the group to look at Daryl confused but then suddenly ready their weapons to the ceiling of the barn when they heard a loud thud, then a roll, and finally footsteps outside the building. Daryl brought himself past Aaron to the door when they opened to reveal exactly who he’s been looking for.

“I told him he was only going to trigger y’all too—-“ Y/N stops speaking when she locked eyes with Daryl who hesitantly inched closer to her.

Daryl couldn’t help the overwhelming urge to grab her and pull her into his embrace as he brought himself right up to her.

“So, Dixon huh?”

“Like you’d want my last name…” Y/N tried, and failed to keep the tears from falling as she drops everything on her latching onto Daryl feeling his arms tighten firmly around her. “Hey baby”

“I found yea, bunny. I knew I would”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

[itsgrimeytime]

wipe it clean || Rick Grimes (TWD) x afab!reader

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: Rick fucks you up against a counter, that's it.

TWs: NSFW mdni (18+), swearing, horny thoughts, dirty talk, teasing, fingering, a little bit of objectification, oral (fem + m receiving), face fucking, pet names, a hint of rough sex, hand/finger kink, finger sucking, teeny bit of a spit kink, a little degradation, cum swallowing, unprotected p in v (doggy style), hickeys, just a smidgen of hair pulling kink, dom/sub undertones, praise kink, a hint of a pain kink, possessiveness, oral fixation, cockdrunk, and begging.

[[A/N: I had a fantasy, and now I am here. Unlike my last smut, there is barely any plot. This is straight filth. A little domestic but like.... yeah. Anyway, enjoy :))) ]]

You were scrubbing away at the dishes mindlessly, it was a nice weekend. One for just you and Rick. This time around it was incredibly domestic, which made your head spin -all the fondness and casual affection making you dizzy. You were still getting used to all the little stuff with him.

Today was nice though, full of cuddling and fond eyes, it was really probably one of your best days with him.

You were humming, gently swishing the sponge along some of the plates. They weren't that dirty, luckily, so you were at your leisure. The gentle hum of the fridge and the sun peeking through the window, you felt very at peace here. Alexandria was getting safer in your head day by day.

Rick walked in then, hair mussed, shirt collar crooked, and sleep pants hanging low on his waist -your eyes dipped to the skin for a moment before you blinked it away.

"Hey," you chimed softly, to which he grinned.

He approached you then, pressing his lips languidly to your temple. You smiled on instinct.

"Hey baby," he walked behind you, fingertips drifting lightly on the skin above your waist (almost like he had this need to just touch you). Even with the shirt as a barrier, you could feel goosebumps spark against your skin like a jolt of electricity.

He slipped beside you, pulling things out of the dish rack and putting them into the correct cabinet. Your mind was astutely aware that his leg and back kept brushing into your side -back and forth, back and forth. Chancing a glance at him, you saw his arms stretched out (only slightly, he was so tall) -reaching for the top shelf. Your eyes hitched on the expanse of muscles teetering up his arm and you had the thought of just what was under that t-shirt, but you had seen it before.

Not that it wasn't less exciting, you still very much enjoyed those muscles in many different ways.

You almost smoothed your palm under his shirt, tracing along the muscles. Instead, you just thought about it, a little. Or maybe a lot.

Your eyes snapped to his hands, watching the veins and his fingers stretch around the rim of the bowl. And for a second, you thought of his hands on your waist -gripping you, holding you still (hard and yet still somehow soft). His hands squeezing and fingers rolling and pinching-

Clearing your throat, you refocus -scrubbing away at the last dish. It was a heavy pot.

It wouldn't be heavy for Rick, your mind chimed.

The thought made your breath get stuck in your throat, your heart pounding in your ears.

"'At it, baby?" He asked, low in his southern drawl, grabbing the pot from your hands. Before you could answer, he stretched up (revealing the tanned skin of his lower back, your eyes stuck there a moment) and hung it up on the rack.

He turned back to you, blue eyes attentively gazed onto you (it made you want to squirm) and you cleared your throat again, shaking your head to dissipate the fuzz in your mind.

"What? Yeah," you tapped your finger mindlessly against the counter, and maybe your voice cracked a little, "-that's... that's all of them."

Rick's eyebrows furrowed a second, eyes flickering in concern, "Everythin' alright?"

You couldn't tell if his attentiveness was making it worse or better.

You squeezed your hands into a fist once, and tapped it along the counter a few times -Rick's eyes following the motion intently, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Rick. Really."

He stepped closer to you, hands smoothing down your arms -goosebumps left in the wake of his callouses.

You swallowed thickly again.

He did not have an idea what he was doing to you. You could tell.

Rick was a breath away now, eyes sure on finding yours and holding them there (you stretched out your fingers and squeezed them back into fists), "Ya sure?"

Eyes flicking to his lips a second, your breath hitched in your chest. You didn't have to speak at all. He knew immediately.

His composure completely changed, soft edges turning a touch sharper, and his smile blooming into a familiar smirk (one that very quickly could send you to your knees).

"Oh," he hummed, low and gravelly, "-I think I get it now, baby."

He stepped even closer, you could feel his body heat seep onto you. His eyes flickered all around your face, taking you in a little like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, as his hands wandered down to your waist. Riding your shirt up, he pushed his fingers there -skin on skin.

It made a spark shoot to your toes, and you bit back a whine.

Rick noticed it immediately, eyes intently flickering over yours (you could feel his puffs of breath against your skin), "So eager, hmm?"

You gnawed at your lip, eyes flickering to his lips and back up. His smirk smoothed onto his lips, eyes heavy with want.

"What was it?" He hummed, pushing you back a little (your back hit the counter), "'S me helpin' ya? Was it my hands?"

A little whine crawled up your throat.

"Yeah?" He murmured, southern drawl and sleep slur (you felt your knees buckle, Rick tightened his grip holding you in place), -Ya thinkin' about my fingers? Stretchin' ya out for my cock?"

You whined again, louder this time, lip trembling. Rick watched it with rapt attention.

"Or maybe," he purred, moving his mouth close to your ear, "-ya were thinkin' about wrappin' your pretty mouth around 'em for me."

"Rick, please," you moaned, -the heat in your core felt like you might combust.

"Please what, baby?" He spoke, tone deeper, "-Use your words."

"I want them-" you sighed out, breath hitching in your throat, "-I want them in my mouth, please."

"Well," he cooed, low tone so deep it was almost a growl, "-since ya asked so nicely."

Rick pulled back, barely a breath. Eyes smoothing over you, the way you squirmed in place. Smirking, he leaned forward and placed a kiss at the hinge of your jaw.

You whined again, desperate -god, "Please."

"So desperate, just for my fingers," his eyes were heavy on yours, "-you'll be beggin' for my cock, yeah?"

You moaned at the thought of him filling your mouth, pushing down your throat. Oh god, you wanted it all.

"Patience, baby," he purred, before his tone got much more heavy.

"Open."

You didn't hesitate, obediently parting your lips.

"So good for me," he smiled, before tilting your head back just slightly, and pushing his index finger past your lips.

You moaned around it, tongue swirling -you could taste the salty sweat, just Rick. Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked on it -tongue twirling over every crease.

His eyes hooded as they just watched you suck on his fingers, so eagerly -pupils blown.

Without warning, he slipped another one in your mouth and obediently you licked every inch.

Rick let out a groan, voice low and a little breathy, "So desperate, baby, ya gonna lick every last inch? Cover 'em in your spit for me?"

You moaned, rumbling against his hand. He put a third finger in, staring as he bit his lip -watching your lips mold around his fingers. He traced their path, and swallowed heavily.

You lapped them up, sucking and licking and just tasting him. Rick at his very core. The saltiness of his sweat was just so good, and seeing him react just made the fire in your gut grow hotter.

Swallowing around them (throat constricting), he rolled out a groan, eyes rolling into the back of his head, that made you try to pinch your legs together -desperate for some friction.

Rick stopped you, free hand holding your knee -fingertips pushing into your skin.

"At's my job, baby," he purred, trailing his hand up your thigh, "-ya got my fingers ready for ya and everythin'."

Your legs trembled, teetering in place, and Rick laughed a little, "Gettin' on your knees, already, darlin'?"

You nodded, vehemently, voice rumbling against his fingers. Rick pulled them out of your mouth, lines of spit drawing from your lips.

"I want you in my mouth, Rick," you nearly begged, "-want you to fill up my throat until I choke."

He groaned, one hand tediously near your core, but stayed focused, "'S your turn, baby, not mine. Be patient."

Without warning, he pushed his palm against your clit through your pants -hard against the fabric.

Your head snapped back, stinging as it hit the counter, and you moaned loud -Rick's pupils were completely blown, eyes dipping over your face like you were a feast and he was starving.

"Off," he demanded, simply, "-all of it, off."

You scrambled, pulling your shirt up over your shoulders -leaving an expanse of skin in its wake. Rick's blue eyes darted all over it, like he was trying to take it all in, see every inch of you.

And then, he tugged down your waistband. Holding you solidly against the counter (it pressed against your back), he slid them off your legs. All it left was your soaked underwear.

Rick licked his lips, jaw clinching -pupils blown.

"Look at you," he tsked, "-so wet for me already. Didn't even need your pretty mouth, baby."

You moaned out, breathlessly, hands coming up to scratch at his shirt.

Rick responded immediately, one hand still holding you up, and slid his shirt off his chest. Your eyes honed in on the stains on the fabric, his fingers still glistening with your spit.

Without hesitation, your nails dug into his skin. Rick swallowed heavily, hissing in a mix of pleasure and pain. You instinctively moved forward mouthing at his jaw, sucking along the stubble -you just needed to-

Growling, he grabbed the fabric of your underwear with much more force -ripping it with ease. You let out a gaspy moan that clawed up your throat.

Using one hand, he lifted you a little -counter lower on your back than it was before. And then, he pushed his forearm against your waist, hand splayed across the edge of your stomach, anchoring you to the counter. The edge of it dug slightly into your skin, cold sharp countertop, and made you a little delirious.

"'At okay baby?" He spoke, eyes sort of soft, "-Doesn't hurt?"

You swallowed, nodding your head wordlessly.

Rick's eyes flicked back to something heavier, a low sort of growl, "Words."

Goosebumps rattled up your arms, but you spoke immediately, breath caught in your chest (you could feel his fingers just a breath away from your core) "Yes, Rick, it's f-fine, doesn't hurt."

"Good job, baby," he hummed, leaning forward and mouthing at your jaw -his stubble left a pleasant buzz along your skin, "-You've been so good, think it's time ya got your reward, yeah?"

Rick's fingers swirled through your folds, gathering up your wetness with tedious strokes.

You tried to push down on him, but his arm that anchored you wouldn't let you move an inch. Something shot up your spine, that you were stuck, molten twisting at your core. Rick could do whatever he wanted.

"Rick, yes, yes," you begged, a little blearily, "-please."

"Okay, baby," he purred against your skin, now mouthing along your neck (his drawl rumbled down through the flame in your stomach), "-I gotcha."

Gathering your wetness, he pushed his middle finger into your core. Your breath rattled out of your chest, as he slowly crooked it into you. You just wanted more, faster-

You squirmed against his grip and the counter pushed into your skin with a distant sort of ache, whines echoing out of your lips, "Please, please, I can handle more. I want more."

Rick shushed you, curling his finger inside you in just the right way (it made your heart pound in your chest), "Be patient, baby, ya gotta be all stretched out for me."

Shaking out a breath, you grabbed endlessly at his skin, fingertips brushing along frantically, and bit down a moan -the heat in your stomach flared up.

"Let me hear ya baby," he cooed, kissing the corner of your mouth, "-'Want the whole compound to hear ya, so 'ey know you're mine."

You whined, trying to shimmy down onto him, eager to be full. Rick only pushed harder on your waist, keeping you in place; your voice trembled in your throat, tiny little noises escaping your lips desperately. He was watching every single one.

And then, he curled it just right and you felt a moan rattle through your bones.

"'Cause nobody else can make ya feel like 'is, hmm?"

"Nobody," you whined out, "-only you Rick, only you."

"Good," he purred, low drawl that shot straight to your core, "-'Think ya get another reward for bein' so good for me."

"Yes, yes, yes," you moaned, "-please, please-"

"So desperate," he laughed, pushing his finger into you down to the knuckle, eyes hooded as they skimmed over you, "-Imagine you all filled up with my cock, I bet ya'd get on your knees for me right now, if I asked, hmm?"

You nodded your head, breath caught in your chest, "I would, Rick, I would-"

"And 'at would ya wanna do down 'ere?" Rick hummed, leisurely pushing his finger in and out of you -you bit your lip as he curled into the spot.

"Want you to fuck my mouth," you breathed out, desperate with your voice cracking, "-until I choke. Wanna choke on you-"

Rick swallowed, pupils blown, groaning slightly (he shifted his feet, and your eyes darted to the tent in his pants), "You're gonna kill me, baby."

You just looked at him a moment, feeling his finger slow and tediously curling into you, lips smoothing along the expanse of your skin. Stubble buzzing a path in its wake, your hand mindlessly came up to the back of his head -keeping him close. Your fingers twisted into his curls lightly, threaded through his hair.

He let out a low groan against your skin as you tugged, picking up the pace of his hands and making you whine. Grabbing at his face, you snapped your lips to his.

Instead of coaxing your tongue out, Rick pushed a second finger in, your core squeezing around them, as he grunted lowly at the sensation. His pace picked up, and you could hear the squelch of him fingering you, wetness pooling beneath you and onto his fingers. Your lips parted into a moan against his, and Rick shoved his tongue down your throat at the opportunity.

Dancing along each other's mouths, you swirled your tongue around his -eagerly lapping up the taste of Rick.

Gasping, you pushed your hand gently onto the hinge of his jaw, opening his mouth wide at the press of your fingertips. You coaxed his tongue into your mouth and hollowed out your cheeks -sucking on it. Rick grumbled low into that one, drumming down your throat, as he with no forewarning put his third finger through your core.

You gasped, and Rick sucked it right out of your lungs -tilting his head to lick every inch of your mouth.

His lips sloppily engulfed yours, dragging your bottom lip through his teeth. You moaned into his mouth, and Rick swallowed the noise as quickly as it came. He started moving faster, hand moving in and out, in and out, in and out. Hitting your spongy walls over and over again, a moan rumbled out of your lips -stuck in the seal of your kiss.

The heat in your stomach coiled, molten lava tossing and the tight feeling pounding so loud, you could feel it about to snap.

"Rick," he shoved them back in, curling them into you just at the right spot (your lips parted for a low whine), "-Rick, please, I'm so close."

"Just on my fingers?" he hummed, biting at your neck and leaving a red trail of hickeys -plush lips billowing along your sweaty skin, fingers still pumping in and out of you, "-Maybe I 'aven't been fuckin' ya enough, hmm?"

You squeezed your legs together (you wanted him so bad), Rick's calloused skin rubbing harshly against your thighs. Your eyes darted to your core, and you saw his long fingers go in and out, covered in your wetness.

"God, Rick," you moaned out, slamming your head back up against the counter, breaths rattling through your chest, "-god, I'm so close, so close-"

Pulling back a second from your neck and searching over you, your hands smoothed over his shoulders and landed behind his neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you pulled, tight, as the coil in your stomach almost became unbearable.

Rick let out a long groan, sloppily coming to kiss along your jaw, licking it all the way through with his tongue. You just deliriously repeated, mind fuzzy, "Rick, Rick, Rick-"

"Ya want me to help?" he hummed, sucking along your collarbone and pinching the skin between his teeth, "-Should I help ya, baby?"

"God, please, yes," shot out of your lungs, as you squeezed your legs tighter. Rick grunted at the pressure.

Taking his thumb, he brushed it against your clit -rough callouses against sensitive skin. It shot through like a jolt in your spine -instinctively you whined, wanting more. Rick obeyed, rubbing rough circles into your clit, eyes taking in every fidget like he wanted to eat you alive.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, as you squirmed under his arm, "God, Rick, God. No one fucks me like you do-"

"Damn right, baby," he pushed his thumb harder into your clit, your eyes went bleary a second, and the coil in your stomach tightened.

"God, oh, god, Rick," you moaned out, noises clawing up your throat, "-god, I'm cumming, fuck, Rick-"

Leaning in close to your ear, he cooed out -breaths puffing against your sticky skin, "Give it to me, baby. I wanna see ya cum 'round my fingers."

Something in your stomach snapped, fire shooting up from your stomach. You twitched, body moving involuntarily, legs tightening around his hand -squeezing his fingers between your folds.

Rick let out a long groan, watching as you twitched through your orgasm with heavy blue eyes -lip sucked between his teeth. All for his fingers.

You let out a breath, shaky, as Rick pulled his fingers out (dripping in your wetness), leaving you feeling a little empty. You whined softly at the loss.

"So soaked for me," he hummed, before bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking it off like it was his last meal on earth, "-god, baby, you taste so fuckin' good."

"Rick," you whined, a little spark building in your gut.

He smiled, fingers wet with his spit, sneaking them between your lips, "Already? Must be damn desperate for my cock, hmm?"

You lapped them up, obediently, on instinct, hollowing your cheeks out. You could taste yourself and it made your eyes roll back into your head, moaning around his fingers. Rick hissed a breath through his mouth, blown pupils trailing along your lips.

"Keep goin' like that, you'll 'ave me cummin' in my pants, darlin'."

"No, no," you begged, and he pulled out his fingers to listen, "-Fuck my mouth, please, Rick. I want to taste you."

"Shit, baby," he groaned out, but before he could say another word, you were on your knees.

Right in your face was his tented pajama pants, moving quickly you mouthed at the tip of his cock -tongue dipping along the tip. Your hands went to work twisting around his shaft, and the other squeezing hard at the base. He let out a low moan that rumbled through your chest and shot to your coiling core.

Whining and desperate, you grabbed his waistband and pulled it down his legs.

His thick cock sprung out in front of your face, red-tipped, achingly hard, and already dripping with precum. You were nearly drooling.

Moving forward, you licked up what you could, tongue smoothing along his sensitive skin -lapping up everything you can of just... Rick. Experimentally, you pursed your lips around his tip and sucked.

Rick's hands shot to the back of your head, groan echoing out into the air.

"Fuck my face, Rick," you repeated, breathlessly like a mantra, "-fill up my mouth with your cock. Wanna be full of you-"

Something in Rick snapped, and he growled pushing his cock past your lips, you moaned around it -licking all that you could. The sound reverberated through him, rattling up his body. Rick's head tilted back as his adam's apple bobbed and he groaned -deep.

"God, baby," he cooed, voice low and rough, "-pretty little mouth all clogged up with my cock."

You sucked on his tip, and his groan rattled through the air -loud. Whining, you couldn't help as one of your hands fell to your clit -harshly pushing your palm into it.

"Touchin' yourself, hmm?" he breathed out, swallowing as you pulled his hips forward, tip touching the back of your throat, "-my cock in your mouth gonna make you cum, baby?"

Grabbing his hands on your head, you tried to urge him forward -tracing the veins on his shaft with your tongue. Rick growled, lone tone rattling to your core, you pushed your palm harder into your clit -more, more-

Fingers gripping much tighter onto your head, he shoved you forward -nose bumping his navel. You gagged a little, eyes watering, and throat constricting -squeezing Rick's cock effortlessly. He grunted, pulling you further back and repeating the process, the tip still bouncing off the back of your throat.

You moaned, hollowing your cheeks and wrapping your lips around his cock -milking it in your mouth. Rick's response was instant, pushing you further down -flush with his navel.

"Fuck, baby-"

Pulling you off again, Rick gathered a rhythm -quick and fast. His cock would reach down your throat and you would gag and suck until you couldn't anymore. He'd grind his teeth, and a grunt seeped through his lips, that shot straight to the coil in your stomach. With each thrust into your mouth, the quicker he moved -blearily you blinked back tears.

Fingertips tightened on your skin and desperation clawing up his throat, you moaned around his shaft. And he sucked a breath through his lips.

"So hot and wet," he purred, thrusting into your face, "-just a pretty lil' hole for my cock, hmm? Is that all you're good for? To swallow my cock with your pretty lil' lips?"

You moaned, nodding against his skin, as he thrust into you -jaw opening further. In your haze, you fuzzily scanned over his body -seeing his muscles tighten. The heat in your body built, coil tightening in your stomach.

Rick pounded into the back of your throat, enforcing the bobbing of your head, as you hollowed your cheeks to lick and suck on all of the skin you could. He tasted so good.

You watched a shaky groan leave his lips. Blue yes squeezed shut, and breath picking up in his chest.

"Fuck," he deeply thrust into your throat -the tip bouncing off the back of your neck, you gagged. He hissed another breath through his lips, and you watched how everything in his body tensed.

"-fuck," you hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder (you want to taste him), and your fingers circling your clit faster -watching him react to you, "-fuck, fuck, fuck."

His thrusts stayed consistent, head bobbing along as he guided your throat up his cock -farther and farther. Your tongue lapped at it, endlessly swarming the salty taste of sweat and the taste of your own saliva; Rick groaned.

"Such a pretty lil' mouth," he repeated, deliriously, "-plugged up by my cock. Takin' me so good-"

Your face bounced against his thrusts -nose pressing into his navel, you slinked your cheeks hollow and tongued over every surface of his cock. All of it, more, more, more-

"I'm gonna cum," he groaned out, breathless, but not relenting his pace, you sucked even harder -taking it upon yourself to pull his hips further (tip sinking into your throat), "-fuck, baby, Imma cum down your pretty lil' fuckin' throat."

A loud moan left your lips then, as you kept your hands on his hips -holding him in place. Rick mindlessly thrusted into your mouth, words muttered under his breath, and gasps every time you swallowed around him. You watched him with heavy eyes, watching the twitch of his muscles, the pinch of his eyebrows.

"So fuckin' close," he hissed, and you watched as his muscles tightened -dropping your hand, and palm desperately grinding into your clit, "-god, baby, your mouth was made for me, hmm?"

You moaned against his cock, rumbling through him, and watched how all of his muscles snapped, hips stuttering to a stop. A hot spurt coating the back of your throat, salty taste glazing your tongue, you licked over his skin, making sure to get it all.

Rick let out a low groan as you swallowed it down, cock already hardening again in your mouth.

Pulling your lips off with a pop, his cock fell out of your mouth -right in front of your face. You leaned forward and kissed the tip.

He growled, hands grabbing at you, pulling you to stand, "Up."

You whined, legs squeezing together, as he leaned you against the counter -shoving his tongue down your throat. Swirling around and tasting himself, he let out a low groan that rumbled through your lungs, adding to the molten lava churning.

Pulling back, he grabbed under your arms and pushed your back onto the counter. Laying you down against it. In the same breath, he hitched both your knees over his shoulders -heavy gaze in the blue eyes. You whimpered, as he turned to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

"'S your turn, baby," he breathed out, and you could feel his breaths against your sensitive heat.

"Rick," you moaned, "-please-"

"Don't 'ave to tell me twice," he grumbled out low and latched his mouth onto your heat.

"Shit," his tongue swirled around your folds, flicking through each layer of skin, desperate and hungry, "-fuck, Rick-"

His blue eyes trailed over your figure, as you erratically grabbed at yourself and the counter. Stubble pleasantly burning against your skin, you locked your legs behind his head and squeezed him forward. Rick groaned, pupils blown as he danced around you, watching you bitting your lip and whisper -belligerent.

And then he pulled your clit between his teeth, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking.

"Fuck," you spoke, throwing your head back onto the counter top, breathless, "-god, your mouth Rick, god-"

He let go, lapping up your wetness like it was liquid gold, tongue creasing through all your folds -finding every last drop. Searching for friction, you scooted yourself down onto his tongue -stubble brushing up against your clit. The coil in your stomach tightened, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and a loud moan clawed up your throat.

Rick grunted, dipping his tongue into your core, licking around the skin, twisting deep in you, and pulling back out. As it smoothed along your walls, flicking back and forth, back and forth, your legs started to tremble around his head.

It felt like your stomach was going to snap, molten lava coiling so tight. You squeezed his head further forward.

"Rick, fuck, Rick, I'm cumming-"

"Already?" He pushed his lips around your clit and sucked so hard that you couldn't see straight.

"God, yes-"

It snapped as your body twitched, Rick's tongue eagerly lapping it all up, licking and sucking, taking all of you into his mouth like he was addicted.

"So sweet," he grumbled, breath puffed against your sensitive clit -you whined, "-just perfect for me, aren't ya, baby?"

"The best for you," you spoke deliriously, breathless, "-Rick, I need you-"

"I know, baby," he hummed, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you down from the counter. You followed with a whine, hands grabbing at his chest, sticky skin to his.

He grunted, mindlessly stroking his cock in his hand -fingers squeezing as his eyes fell closed a second. You bit your lip and whined, taking your hand and wrapping it around his shaft -squeezing once.

"Fuck," he groaned, looking at you, "-I ain't gonna last long."

You begged, "I want you in me Rick. Fuck me, please."

He grunted, languidly kissing your neck, low voice grumbling against your skin, "-Don't worry baby, Imma give ya what ya need. Fuck ya good and hard with my cock. 'At what you want?"

You whined, squeezed your legs together -desperate for friction., and his eyes dropped to it for a moment, pupils blown. Something in him snapped.

"Turn around."

Instinctively, you obeyed.

Rick kissed up your spine, feverishly licking and sucking. Before pushing you forward, his hand splayed out on your back, holding you in place -as he bends you over the counter.

It dug into your skin, all cold sharp edges, as he scratched along your skin. Your lips parted into a moan, whining.

He laughed a little, "Ain't even in ya yet, and you're already beggin'."

You whined, trying to scoot back, his hands stopped you -grabbing your hips and keeping you in place.

"Be patient, baby," he purred, "-patience."

You whined louder, begging, "Rick, please."

You felt the tip of his cock tease along your folds, avoiding what you really wanted.

"Rick-"

Fingers gripping you tight and a low growl leaving his lips, he snapped you back to his navel -cock shooting through you. It burned a little, and the moan that left your lungs echoed into the air -loud.

Rick repeated it, pulling you all the way out and shoving you back in, as your chest rubbed against the counter and body bounced against his.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" you blubbered out, "-Rick-"

"'Is what ya wanted, baby?" he purred, pounding into you, "-ya want me pushed so deep that ya can feel me in your throat again?"

"Fuck," you moaned out as he kept the pace, skin slapping in the silence of the room.

"Want it so deep 'at ya feel me for days," he spoke, breathless, "-won't be able to fuckin' walk. Feel so empty because ya want my cock fucking you."

"Always feel so empty," you whined, face pushed against the counter, "-you fill me up so good."

"Ya just wanna bounce on my cock all day, hm?" He groaned, hands gripping tighter, "-Want me to keep ya filled? Fill that pretty little hole?"

"Yes, yes, Rick, please-"

He only went faster, skin slapping, and your throat creaking out moans without stopping.

"Fuck me, Rick," you repeated, belligerent, "-fuck me, you fuck me so good."

"Who knows just how to take care of ya?"

"You, Rick," you answered, and he fucked deep into you, the coil in your stomach twisting.

"You'll always be mine," he leaned forward, mouthing at the bottom of your spine -teeth scraping your skin.

You hissed, voice bouncing as he fucked into you, coil building into your stomach, "Shit, shit, shit-"

Rick groaned, as you squeezed your legs together, "Gonna cum for me again baby? Cum on my cock, like ya been wanting to?"

"'S all I want," you slurred, skin slapping and his finger dug into the flesh over your hips, "-to have your cock fill me up, so full."

"Then cum, baby," he growled, leaning forward and biting and sucking on your skin -wherever he could, "-cum for me again."

Everything in you seized, legs twitching, and squeezing your eyes shut so tight that you saw stars flash behind your eyes. Squeezing his cock, Rick groaned loud and it made you whine, even though you were boneless.

He just kept pounding into you, hitting that perfect spot, as you moaned out, legs squeezed together and mouth hung open.

"Damn, you are so perfect, darlin'," he hummed, belligerent, "-so hot and wet, know just how to get me goin', hmm?"

You moaned out.

Rick let out a long groan that shook through your body, and his hips stuttered to a stop. You felt the hot spurt fill you, coating your walls, cock softening inside of you.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned out, voice spent, and gasping for breaths, "-Think 'at's our best yet."

You laughed against the countertop.

Rick moved gently, pulling himself out, and moving your hips to flip you back over. He smiled brightly at you when he connected your eyes, something fond and twinkly.

"Only you could look at me that way after fucking the shit out of me," you quipped, breathless.

He laughed, pressing a sweet simple kiss to your lips, and pulling you up by your shoulders. Eyes swimming over you, you briefly wondered just how much he marked you up. But your mind was too blissfully quiet to think about it, you let your eyes fall shut and leaned into his hands.

"Look at ya," he cooed, gently holding your jaw to face him, "-Did I tire ya out, baby?"

You hummed, eyes flickering open, "Maybe a little."

He bellowed out a laugh, darting around beside the two of you.

"Ya gonna be able to sit up by yourself?" He hummed, gentle and careful, "-Gotta get somethin' to clean ya up with."

You blinked your eyes open and nodded. Rick looked at you a second longer (as if to make sure), before fishing around and finding his shirt slung across the floor. Gently, he wiped you clean, careful brush of fingertips.

And then taking your face into his hands, eyes much softer, and skin flushed pink.

"Ya wanna go an' shower, baby?"

You wordlessly nodded, leaning forward and kissing his stubble. Rick smiled, pulling you down from the countertop. As soon as your feet touched the ground, your knees wobbled.

He laughed again, shifting his hand to hold your waist up and kissing your temple, "Must've fucked ya good this time, hm?"

"Very good," you added, a little slurred.

Rick laughed, quickly kissing your lips, and guided you off into the shower.

#mdni #18+ only #18+ content #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes x y/n smut #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #smut

[thesoftboiledegg]

Well, that was one hell of an episode.

I'll start with what we're all thinking: it's disappointing that the sweet moments that Rick and Morty shared in "A Rick in King Mortur's Mort" weren't real. "Little junebug" and the hug in particular were so loving. Admittedly, Rick seemed out of character, but I loved seeing his grandfatherly side.

However, I don't think it's entirely a bad thing. "Rick" changed way too quickly, and Morty forgave him too quickly. It let Rick off the hook when Morty deserves to tell Rick how much he hurt him. Rick needs to face what he's done, not make up with a quick hug and nice words.

And I mean--Rick could have programmed that robot to be cruel. He could've programmed him to mentally beat the family down so they wouldn't bother the real Rick. Or he could've programmed to be the same as he is. Why not? But he programmed that robot to be gentle and loving: the grandfather that Morty deserves. The one that Rick would've been in another lifetime.

I love how the robot also pointed out that anything that he did, Rick technically did himself. Rick programmed the robot to act that way.

"Rick and Morty is about how nothing matters!" Bullshit. The robot wasn't just a replacement Rick. Yes, Rick built him because he was being a petty asshole, but he could've made that robot an abusive piece of shit to be an even pettier asshole. Instead, the robot showed us Rick at his best.

I was glad that the episode clarified that Rick made the robot at the beginning of the previous episode so that we didn't have to wonder how long we'd been watching a Rick stand-in.

Rick still did everything else this season. He willingly went to therapy, spent time with his family, helped Jerry when he didn't need to (and side-eyed the family for making fun of him), told Morty that he loves him, threw himself on top of Morty to protect him, showed him physical gentleness, told him that his life matters, tried to be a better father to his daughters, and abandoned his revenge quest in "Solaricks" when Morty called him "Grandpa." He's still changing.

And this is the same man that's making himself crazy as he tries to hunt down Prime Rick. He abandoned that for a moment for the Smiths.

Even in this episode, Rick was tame compared to his past behavior. He's still crabby and somewhat distant, but he's far from the monster that he was in "The Rickchurian Mortydate" (and again, another brilliant callback to season three.)

Still, my heart breaks for Morty. All he wants is for Rick to love him. Rick does love him, but not in the way that he needs. His parents aren't exactly great, either--the Smiths might do more together as a family, but wake me up when Morty has another episode with Beth or Jerry. We've got, what, one of each? And his episode with Jerry was all the way back in season one.

Morty's repressed rage isn't going anywhere, either. I was shocked when he tried to kill the president. He's been racking up a body count since "Look Who's Purging Now" in season two, and I wonder how much worse he's going to get.

Not that I blame him after all the trauma he's experienced. The world had written him off as a nobody long before Rick showed up. Once, he was lonely and neglected. Now, Rick gives him plenty of attention and even affection, but he's also been selfish, abusive and just batshit crazy at times. When is it going to end?

I'm glad that this episode revived the tension between Rick and Morty--it's not a good thing, but it shows that Rick hasn't magically become a saint. It also shows that Morty's continuing to stand up for himself. And let's face it: we've got four more seasons to go. Their issues can't end here.

Maybe they'll split up for good. Maybe Morty will try to kill him. Maybe Morty will snap and carve a path of destruction throughout the galaxy. Maybe Morty's love will save him.

On a lighter note, I LOVED it when Rick said that the president and his inventions would give him "neurotypical cooties." I thought the writers had forgotten that Rick is autistic before season six. Nope, they haven't--and the series is blatant about representation.

No "Haha we code Rick as autistic! We won't state that in the show though lol!" No accidental portrayal, like Sheldon Cooper, that's offensive to the autistic community. Rick is autistic, and the show's going to rub your face in it. Cry about it, dudebros who say that Rick is neurotypical (and yes, they say that. I've seen it!)

The cliffhanger also made me ecstatic. It's everything that I wanted from a cliffhanger. Season five had a decent one, but it wasn't about Rick's character or backstory. It was just the usual "Damn, how are they going to get out of this?"

I can't wait to see Rick chase Prime in season seven. I'm also hoping that the show will become more serialized as it goes on. I've been saying for a while that making it increasingly successive and going full serialization in season ten would be gutsy and thrilling to watch.

Overall, this was a great season that seems to be building up to something even greater. The new writers clearly love and respect the show. They brought up concepts that I thought the show would never touch again, like Morty liking science (has that ever come up before? He has a bunch of science stuff in his room, but the show didn't touch on it.) All the callbacks were great and never seemed like nostalgia bait. They were loving tributes to the series.

And the new writers seem to like us, lol. They were clearly trying to please our "side" of the fandom.

Rick paused his revenge quest for his family, but he didn't end it. He'll do almost anything to kill Prime. Anything to eliminate the suffering that he can't drown with abuse and alcohol. Anything to make the pain go away for the last time.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #ricktional mortpoon's rickmas mortcation #review #rick and morty season 6 #rick and morty season six

[afewproblems]

For the prompts #39 things you forgot to say and number 23 things you were forced to say steddie hurt/ comfort

Thank you for this combo - I hope I’ve done it justice but my hand slipped and this got long and it got sad…so I apologize in advance!

“Shit!” Steve hisses, wrenching his face away from the open oven door as a cloud of hot moist air rushes out, he wipes his face with the free hand not holding the oven door handle. 

“You good man?” Robin laughs from where she’s perched on the counter, her dangling legs swing joyfully back and forth. 

“Peachy,” Steve mutters, grabbing a hot-cloth to pull out the baking tray, he shakes the mini pigs in a blanket around to dislodge them from the foil before putting the tray back onto the middle rack, “put on another fifteen would ya?” he says over his shoulder to Robin.

She snatches the little blue egg timer from beside her thigh and twists it to the appropriate time before placing it back onto the counter. 

It's not the only snack he's prepared, granted to call it preparation would be a bit of a stretch. He had grabbed chips and pop, beer, and juice -just in case, that afternoon. It wasn't as though he hadn't needed a grocery run, and the most intensive snack was now baking in the oven, it wasn't all out, not really…

“Going all out I see,” she hums with a quirked eyebrow and a growing smile.

Steve smirks, ignoring the heat that blooms across his cheeks and ears that has nothing to do with the open oven door. She knows exactly what he's trying to do and who it's for. 

Eddie had somehow, after everything, burrowed his way into their lives and never left. 

And it was nice, he had a wicked sense of humor and warm brown eyes that made Steve's heart quicken in a way he couldn't quite explain. 

He and Robin had talked it to death in fact, analyzing each small moment, each lingering glance or touch that had occurred between them over the last few months since Eddie had been discharged from the hospital.

Steve had even begun hanging out with Eddie alone, invited along for movie nights in the new Munson trailer. 

***

“Come on,” Steve scoffs as he throws a handful of popcorn into Eddie’s face from his side of the couch, he laughs as Eddie meets the projectiles with an open mouth, “Han Solo Harrison Ford could totally take out Indiana Jones Harrison Ford, no contest!” 

Eddie snorts and shakes his head sagely, “Oh Steven, sweet Steven,” he takes a long drag on the joint between his fingers and blows it out through his nose, “you forget about Rick Deckard! The trenchcoat alone man!”

“Who?” Steve says as his face scrunches into a slight frown, he gestures for Eddie to pass the joint and takes a long pull before coughing roughly as the smoke hits his lungs, it’s been awhile since he’s actually smoked but, ah well, when in Rome.

Eddie grins and launches into an explanation of something called Blade Runner and the pros and cons of the retelling of something about electric sheep? He vaguely remembers the title on the Hawk Theater marquee, but he was also pretty sure that was the year he and Patty Campbell made out while The Thing played in the background, so he must have missed it. Steve feels himself drift away, slightly lost as Eddie continues to speak, he watches the way the metal-head’s hands fly around - emphatically gesturing as he lists his points. He’s so pretty like this, his eyes bright and his dimples on full display--

Oh. Oh shit.

The familiar bubble of warmth blooms inside his chest and travels up, spreading into his hands and dusting his face with a light pink that he hopes is obscured by the dim light in the Munson living room. Shit.

“Family video should have it, we’ll pick it up for next time,” Eddie hums, he reaches for the joint, letting his fingers brush Steve’s own and it feels like sparks dance along his skin. 

Oh, double shit.

Eddie suddenly sits up straight, his legs slide off of the couch and onto the floor, nearly toppling the ashtray on the rug. 

“I mean, not sure when we’ll get around to uh, to doing that though you know?” Eddie says quickly, keeping his face trained on the ashtray below as he drops the roach into it. It bounces once and hits the carpet prompting a low groan as Eddie scoops it up before the ash can stain. 

“With Hellfire I mean, I don’t,” Eddie swallows, he looks at Steve once before dropping his gaze back to the floor, “you know how difficult it can be to schedule the kids and then with trying to find a place to host everyone--”

“I could have you,” Steve says, the words leap from his mouth loudly with little to no thought, “I mean, I could host,” he says quickly, his ears feel as though they’ve been engulfed in flames but he presses on, “Hellfire I mean, you know, if you want?”

Eddie’s head tilts slightly as he finally turns to look at Steve once more, his large brown eyes flick back and forth between Steve’s own before he grins and clears his throat, tucking a handful of curls behind his ear. 

“Alright Big Boy, I’m preparing to be wow’d,” Eddie says as he leans back against the arm of the couch once more and brings his feet back up, stretching towards Steve - just shy of his thigh. 

Steve can’t help but beam at Eddie, even as his heart hammers at a mile a minute, he  leans into the ratty couch cushions as casually as possible, “Nothing but the best for his highness,” Steve murmurs as he points his face back towards Harrison Ford on the television screen. 

He calls Robin as soon as he gets home that night, it’s late, nearly midnight, but she still takes his call - much to the disapproval of her parents. 

Thank God for Robin Buckley.

“When are you going to get your own line Robs,” Steve huffs once Mrs. Buckley finishes scolding him for the late hour, he’s lucky she bothered to even get Robin for him but Steve has managed to ever so slightly charm Mr. and Mrs. Buckley over the last year or two. He’s fairly certain they think he and Robin are dating, but if that’s the case they haven’t said as much.

“Not all of us are rich you dick,” she yawns into the receiver, “now spill it, what's so important that you’re calling this late?”

“I..I think,” he swallows, the silence on the other end of the line makes the words stick in his throat, “I like someone, uh I’m kind of freaked out about it Robin…”

"You like Eddie, you mean?" Robin says, so matter-of-factly that Steve almost drops the phone, he scrambles to keep ahold of it, “Steve?” Robin’s confused voice floats out of the receiver in soft tinney tones as he brings it back up to his ear.

"How did you--”

“You’re not exactly subtle dingus, plus you had a crush on me before so I’ve gotten pretty good at seeing when you’re mooning over someone,” she says with a laugh in her voice, it finally manages to pull a small grin out of him.

Steve groans, pressing the heel of his hand into his left eye until stars flash in his vision, “What the hell am I going to do Buckley? I’ve offered my place to host Hellfire”.

“Why on earth would you do that?” She hisses in exasperation. 

“It just came out!”

She sighs and it crinkles in his ear like static, “Well then,” she hums after a beat, “we’re going to need a game plan”.

***

Steve shakes his head slightly, and winks at her, "You know everything I do is to impress you Buckley," he snarks back, flipping the oven door closed with a snap. Steve grabs a discarded tea towel from the counter to wipe his hands before he stretches the fabric out into a lax bridge between his hands, he spins the towel suddenly and whips it out to catch at Robin's jean clad knees.

She squawks and leaps away from the counter with a wide grin, "asshole," Robin says affectionately, snatching the makeshift weapon away from him.

She wanders over to the fridge, popping open the door and leaning down to inspect the shelves. Robin huffs out a breath, "I don't think I've ever seen this many drink options outside of a literal vending machine," she turns slightly to look over her shoulder, "not impressing anyone my ass". 

Steve rolls his eyes, ignoring the flutter of nerves in his chest, it wasn’t the first time he had hosted the kids for a game night but this was the first time for the rest of the Hellfire group and the first time Steve would be meeting Eddie's friends and bandmates.

It shouldn't be as nerve wracking as it is. 

"Is it too much?" he asks lowly, crossing his arms over his chest, it had been Robin’s idea after all to cater to their stomachs, as the old saying went.

Robin stands up with a can of coke in hand, she cracks the tab and sips it, her eyes never leaving his face, she stares contemplative for what feels like an eternity before eventually rolling her eyes. 

"Nah, as much as it pains me to say, I think it’s pretty perfect,” she tips the can towards him as if in a toast, “plus, if he still hasn’t caught it yet I'm sure you'll have to really spell it out.” 

Robin gestures towards the fridge with a wry smile, "perhaps using the bountiful drink selection you have for us".

Steve snorts and feels his chest slowly begin to unclench, "don't tempt me Bobs" he mutters under his breath.

A shout and chorus of groans and, 'what the fuck man's’ ring out from the living room where the group have set up, Steve snorts at the mutinous tone in Mike's voice which carries farther than any of the others.

"Better get a move on with the snacks, the mob is getting restless," Robin says sagely before grabbing a handful of chips from a nearby bowl.

Steve swears if he rolls his eyes harder they'd fall out, but he grabs two bowls and makes his way over to the swinging door connecting the kitchen to the dining room.

The sounds of arguing increases, as Steve steps over the threshold, he smiles fondly at the sight of the kids. Will has his face in his hands, he's seated cross legged in one of the dining room chairs, Lucas is seated next to him with an arm on his shoulder, his eyes volley back and forth watching Dustin and Mike snarking at each other. 

Mike is standing, leaning over the table and gesturing emphatically at the plastic mat draped over the wood surface of the Harrington dining room table. 

It had belonged to his maternal grandmother and had been collecting dust since Steve had been old enough to reach the stove, old enough to be left on his own while his parents traveled for work.

At least now it was finally being put to good use, maybe not as Nana Marino intended, but Steve didn't think she would have minded. 

Dustin stands as well and picks up a small model, thrusting it into Mike's face, "look me in the eyes and tell me you think that's a good plan," he snarls as Mike swats at Dustin's hand, the plastic goes flying as Mike's hand connects. 

"Hey, hey," Steve shouts as Dustin pushes Mike away by the shoulders, "break it up, Jesus Christ you two". 

He sets the snack bowls on the table, ignoring the huff from Lucas who immediately moves them off the mat. 

Steve rolls his eyes as he bends down to grab the discarded figurine, it's a tiny…dwarf? At least that's what Steve thinks, he's sure that Dustin has told him his character's name and that the word dwarf has been used a few times that night, but he's unsure -and the spotty paint job does nothing to make it clearer as he holds up the model to his eye line. 

"Whatever Steve, you don't get it, Dustin is being an asshole-"

"Me?! You're the one-" 

Steve blows out a sharp whistle before bringing his hands up to form a T shape, "Time out, Jesus, where is your mediator, your Dungeon Man?"

"You know that's not what he's called," Mike grumbles under his breath while Dustin scowls and points to the sliding glass door to the backyard. 

Steve nods and pockets the figurine, ignoring the loud, 'Hey!' that Dustin bites out as he wanders towards the door.

"Relax, you'll get him back when you can guarantee no one's going to have him jammed down their throat," Steve calls over his shoulder with a smirk.

Steve slides open the glass door and steps out into the cool evening air. The sun has set but the last hints of pink and periwinkle paint the horizon, bathing the yard in blue twilight. Steve hears voices from around the corner of the house and the unmistakable smell of cigarettes floats his way as he steps closer. He's about to clear his throat, announce himself, when he hears his own name. 

"So what's up with Harrington?" The first voice says, Gareth, Steve thinks to himself, he blinks at the tone, it's curious if a little…teasing?

"What about him?" Eddie says, a lighter clicks in the background before a short pause. The smell of tobacco blooms once more, stronger now than before. Steve settles against the wall of the house, it's not right to eavesdrop -he knows that, but he can't help but wait, his feet rooted alongside his mothers rhododendrons.

"I mean come on, how is it that King Steve is hosting us in this fucking 'McMansion'," another voice says sharply, Jeff, Steve thinks, ignoring the small wave of hurt at the old title. 

"It's just…,” there’s a pause, “kinda weird man," Gareth says quietly. Gravel crunches and for a heart stopping moment Steve thinks he'll be caught, "I didn't think you were friends?" 

Steve presses himself into the wall, willing himself to move, to run back to the house as quickly and quietly as he can, but he can’t seem to move, he holds his breath as Eddie speaks.

Eddie snorts, "You think I'm friends with a guy like that?" 

The words hit Steve harder than he thought they would, cutting into his chest, settling in alongside, Bullshit, and, Asshole. They curl together and sink into his skin like a bruise.  

"It's okay if you are Eddie," Gareth tries again, a soft grunt joins the words, and Jeff mutters something in begrudging agreement.

Eddie laughs. 

He fucking laughs.

"You guys are hysterical, he's friends with the sheepies, and yeah he offered this house, why wouldn't we want to take advantage of it?"

Right.

Steve nods to himself, letting the last threads of hope tear apart, he slips away from the wall as quietly as possible and makes his way back to the sliding glass door, grateful he left it open, silently making his escape.

He closes it as quietly as possible and considers latching the door for a brief moment before scrubbing his hand roughly over his face. 

That was the old Steve talking, the one who would have locked the doors and kicked everyone out over something as trivial as someone not wanting to be his friend. The one who rejected others before they could reject him first, who wrapped himself in barbs and venom and sneered at people who were unapologetically different. Like Eddie.

But Eddie wasn't just someone, and Steve hadn’t been King of anything for a long time.

And, unless Eddie had forgotten, Steve was fairly certain they were friends, or at least it shouldn’t have been a completely unfounded thought that he and Eddie were at least on some kind of friendly terms.

Steve shakes his head and swallows the newly formed lump in his throat. 

He always did this, his heart ran ahead of his head and got itself hurt, again. At least this time he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself.

Steve sighs and tamps down the wave of hurt that sweeps through his chest, he shoves it into a corner, into a little box on its own, and shuts the lid. 

It was fine, he was fine. 

The kids have settled down at this point as Steve walks back towards the dining room table. Mike is laughing at something, Will's face has been removed from his hands and Dustin and Lucas are indulging in handfuls of chips from the bowls Steve had brought out earlier. One is nearly empty and at least Will has the good graces to look sheepish as he spots Steve walking in. 

"Sorry Steve," Will says with a soft smile, as he grabs the bowl to hand over, "We might have gotten a little carried away". 

Steve smiles but it's tight at the edges as he reaches out to take the bowl, he can feel Will's eyes on him as he moves to the other side of the table towards the kitchen door, "don't worry about it little Byers," Steve mumbles mostly to himself. He misses the worried glances that Will and Dustin exchange with one another as he walks back into the kitchen. 

Robin has left her perch on the counter to stand beside the oven, magazine in hand, she doesn't look up as he walks in and places the bowl on the counter. 

Robin looks over at the egg timer with narrowed eyes, "five more minutes, wanna have a look at em?" she hums as she puts the magazine on the counter, a picture of the Charlie's Angels graces the cover.

He shakes his head and grabs another bag of chips for the kids to put out, Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose --Robin knows him too well at this point to miss such a gesture. 

He clears his throat, "I'm sure they're good Robbie, let me just bring more fuel for the goblins out there". 

Steve meets her gaze for just a moment, her eyes narrow at him now and trace over his face. He rolls his shoulders, shaking off her stare and turns on his heel as Robin opens her mouth to say something, he beats her to the punch, "You stare any harder, you're going to turn into the Terminator scanning me like that Robbie”. 

It works for a moment, throwing her off kilter just enough for him to escape to the dining room as a laugh tumbles out of her open mouth.

The older boys have rejoined the group as Steve makes his way to the table with the refill, Dustin makes grabby-hands at the bowl which Steve hands over with a roll of his eyes. 

Jeff is seated next to Dustin, his eyes trail after Steve but his expression seems neutral enough for the moment. Gareth sits in between Will and Lucas, his gaze resting pensively on the figurine in his hands, he looks up when Steve enters and a small friendly smile slowly blooms, it settles Steve - just enough to allow a small smile back. 

Eddie stands on the far side of the table, where a binder has been propped up to block his notebooks and dice, his arms are crossed tightly across his chest and his shoulders form a stiff line. He’s frowning slightly at his books, if he sees Steve walk in he doesn’t acknowledge it.

 Steve's chest tightens at the sight, he gathers up the second wave of hurt and sweeps it away once again, latching the lid of the box this time.

How the hell did he read this so wrong? Where was the Eddie that shared in private jokes, leaning over to share an aside to Steve that was just for them, the one who called him Stevie and slung a warm arm around his shoulders as they watched bad movies late into the night.

Had he done something, Steve wonders? Something to piss Eddie off tonight? 

He wracks his brain, sifting through the events of the evening but nothing comes to mind. They had barely said two words to each other before Eddie had disappeared while Steve and Robin were cooking in the kitchen.

So where was this coming from?

Lucas leans over the mat on the table to snag another handful of chips,littering crumbs over the crudely drawn map and character models, Eddie tisks loudly and leans over to blow away the crumbs.

"You always get the best snacks man," Lucas says brightly through his mouthful to Steve, “and maybe even, make the best ones?” 

Dustin, Will, and Mike all turn expectantly to Steve, Dustin and Will with open hopeful expressions and even Mike has removed his perpetual scowl to look at Steve with something closer to begrudging anticipation.

“Yeah, it should be done right away here, gotta keep you assholes well fed before you go out and terrorize Waterdeep right?” Steve 

"Since when does King Steve know D&D?" Jeff asks with a laugh, his eyebrows crease together incredulously and he and Eddie share a look. 

“Jeff,” Gareth mutters at the same time that Dustin says, “I’ve been trying to convince Steve to play with us for ages but--”

“Pfft, Harrington? Play Dungeons and Dragons? I’d know if Hell had frozen over Dustin,” Eddie scoffs as he sits down roughly in his seat behind the binder, from where Steve is standing it obscures Eddie's face before he leans back in the dining chair. 

Right. 

Steve nods once and clears his throat before turning away from the kids, he avoids Dustin’s gaze which burns into the side of his face, “I think the timer is about to go, I’ll uh, be back in a sec”.

He walks swiftly in three strides towards the door, letting his foot catch it as it swings open with a thunk. 

“What the fuck Eddie,” Steve barely hear’s Mike’s muffled words through the closed door as he walks towards the counter and snatches the hot-cloth from where it lay next to the timer. They offer little comfort as he wrenches open the oven door.

“Steve?” Robin says softly, she’s using her wounded-bunny voice that he absolutely hates. He ignores it and the way it makes his chest clench again, the box is getting too full for this. 

“Steve,” Robin says again, she reaches out to touch his shoulder but he keeps moving and grabs the pan from the oven. A few of the pigs in a blanket are burnt, the dark brown, almost black, singing on the edges mars just of a few of them. 

It’s the last straw of the night. 

“Fuck,” he snarls, slamming the tray onto the stovetop with so much force that one of the pigs goes flying, he winces as it hits the floor. 

Steve bends in half to grab it, ignoring the sting as the hot pastry and meat connects with his fingers. He tosses it into the sink with a muffled metallic thud. 

“Jesus Steve,” Robin hisses at him, her eyes dart back and forth between his face and the closed kitchen door, “what the fuck happened in there?”

“Nothing Robin, just drop it,” Steve growls as he wrenches the cupboard open and takes out a large plate. He can’t do this now, not while everyone is still here.

“Steve?” a small voice says from the door, Dustin slowly walks into kitchen, approaching the pair of them like wild animals, “I wanted to--”

“Oh shit, right,” Steve says, deflating as he remembers. 

He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly through his nose before pulling out the small dwarf model from his pocket, Steve tosses it over to Dustin who just manages to catch it. 

“Sorry man,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head as he schools his expression into something flatter, more neutral, “completely forgot about him, if you want to wait a second I’ll get these on a plate you can bring them over to everyone--”

“No, Steve--”

“I think we have mustard in the fridge and maybe a little relish left, I’m not sure what all goes with these guys,” Steve mutters, crossing to the fridge, he opens the door and sticks his head in.

“Steve--”

“Or what everyone else likes, um, you know what, just take all of these,” he sighs, gathering up the bottles and jars in his arms, he brings them over to the counter beside the plate and brings his foot back to kick the fridge door closed once more. 

Steve turns off the oven and haphazardly tosses the remaining pigs onto the plate before turning around to Dustin and Robin. Dustin’s face is pinched and red, his mouth cast into a deep troubled frown, while Robin scowls with narrowed eyes but the smallest hint of worry seeps through. 

“Anyway,” Steve mumbles, avoiding their gaze, “don’t destroy the house, just let me know when you go, and I’ll lock up”.

Steve sighs again and sweeps his hair away from his face, “I think I’m just going to go lay down for a bit, migraine,” he says, lifting his hand to gesture towards his forehead. 

It’s not even a lie, a steady ache has been building behind his eyes since he overheard the elder Hellfire members talking in the yard. He tosses the cloth in his hands on the counter and turns to the main hallway to head upstairs. 

“Have fun,” Steve says softly before sweeping away down the hallway. 

Steve makes it about halfway up the stairs before he hears light foot-falls on the carpet behind him, he glances over his shoulder to see Robin following silently. 

She’s still looking at him with an irritated scowl but her worried blue eyes undercut the ferocity he’s sure she is going for, Steve sighs and continues climbing, knowing she wouldn’t listen to him even if he told her to go. 

Steve opens his bedroom door and flips on the light for them, wincing at the sudden brightness, he closes his eyes and walks until his knees hit the bed and lets himself fall gracelessly onto the mattress. He hears Robin wander over to the desk lamp, turning it on with a small snick, she crosses the room again and flicks off the ceiling light before closing the door and joining him on the bed. 

“So,” she hums, prodding him roughly between the ribs with a rigid pointer finger, Steve jolts and makes a muffled squawk into the covers, “are you going to actually tell me what’s wrong or are you going to take it out on more pork products?”

Steve rolls over slowly onto his back before bringing his lower lip up to chew on. Robin’s eyes grow softer the longer he takes to speak, he has to tell her. 

“I was wrong Robin, we were wrong, he practically hates me,” Steve whispers to the ceiling, he feels her shift on the bed beside him, inching even closer. 

“Eddie??” Robin whispers as she reaches out to place her hand firmly on Steve’s chest and rubs a soothing circle over his heart, “you-- no, that’s not true”.

“I overheard him,” Steve says eventually, he clears his throat and reaches up to wipe his eyes which have begun to sting, damn migraine, “outside when I went to grab them, they were talking about me”.

Her hand freezes and her fingers clench into his sweater, Steve reaches up to gently pry her hand away, he offers a firm squeeze of her smaller palm. 

“What did he say Steve,” she whispers, her eyes dart over his face, as though cataloging each small change in his expression. 

Steve chews his lip again, this time, keeping a careful lock on the words before they tumble out, “just leave it alone Robbie,” he says softly, “I just want to forget this ever happened”.

Steve turns over onto his side, pillowing his head under his arm. He scootches over to make more room for her.

Robin hesitates for just a moment, turning towards the door with fire in her eyes, before Steve tugs on her hand, stealing her closer, down beside him.  

Robin sighs as she curls up, she reaches over with her one free hand and pokes his chest again, hitting him square in the sternum, “he didn’t deserve you anyway, he’s your Tammy Thompson,” Robin says shrewdly, nodding once to herself, “and my villain origin story,” she mutters after a beat, under her breath. 

Steve closes his eyes and nods silently, the words are meant to be comforting, he knows, but what little balm they contain do not help with the ache deep in his chest.

Steve opens his eyes as Robin kicks at his foot, probably harder than she means to, she at least has the good graces to look sorry. 

“I mean it dingus,” she murmurs, “I wouldn’t lie to you, and us single losers have to stick together after all”.

Steve laughs brightly and pulls her closer, letting himself bask in her warmth.

She wasn’t wrong, at least they had each other, and maybe, for now, that was enough.

You can read Part Two Here

#afewproblems writes #afewproblems answers #platonic stobin #Robin is a great friend #hurt and comfort #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #One sided Steddie #This went in such a completely different direction that I was intending but #I do hope its still enjoyable #and maybe we're going to have to see what the heck Eddie is thinking because that kid has some splaining to do #Hurt Steve Harrington #Robin is not afraid to throw hands #Gareth is trying to keep the peace #this got so long somehow #also #this prompt was so hard to conceptulatize #so I really hope that the things that Eddie forgot to say and the things that Steve was forced to say were relatively clear!

[nerdraging4point0]

Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter Six // Polyverse AU

Tropes and Tags: MF, MFM, MFMM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only MDNI, PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.

Active taglist: @ladyveronikawrites @tearfallpixie @beaker1636 @circle-with-me @synthetic-wasp-570 @itsjustemily @thesazzb @vinyardmauro @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @letmeadoreyoux @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken 2@missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @mysticdoodlez @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @somebodyels3 @sacredthefran @th0ughts-pr4yers @bloody-delusion-expert

RICK'S POV

The February wind outside howled like a pack of wolves as flurries danced past the frosty windowpane. The tour was great, but it's nice to be back where everything is familiar. I was lost in my thoughts at my desk, a mug of now cold coffee sitting off to my right when Vin’s name flashed on my screen. Sitting at my computer desk in my bedroom studio, I was deeply focused on reviewing and editing some music video footage I had recently shot. Our band just released a new album, and I was brainstorming more creative ways to promote it through visually striking music videos. As both the lead guitarist and an aspiring filmmaker, I was eager to take a hands-on role in the video production process. My mind was racing with ideas - perhaps I could assist the director, or even take full creative control and direct the video myself. Fueled by my passion for both music and film, I became completely engrossed in piecing together rough cuts on my editing software, trying out different sequences and visual effects. Just as I was fine-tuning a particularly complex montage sequence, the ringing notification jolted me out of my deep concentration.

I pushed the green button on my phone, putting it on speaker so I could keep working on my computer while I talked. "Hello," I answered absentmindedly, my eyes still focused on the screen in front of me as I edited videos. 

"Hey man," came Vin's cheery but muffled voice through the phone, the sounds of his chewing making it obvious he had food in his mouth. I knew he must be bored or feeling lonely since he never called just to chat otherwise.

I reached over to take a sip from my mug of now tepid coffee, grimacing at the lukewarm liquid that was no longer hot enough to be enjoyable. As Vin rambled on about his day so far, I found my focus divided between his meandering story and the editing work I was trying to finish up. His tone was aimless and wandering, confirming my suspicion that this call was just his way of combating boredom on a lazy afternoon. I made occasional noises of acknowledgement, letting him continue his monologue as background noise while I clicked and dragged video clips into place.

“Hey, so I got a call from Seth this morning. I guess he’s supposed to do a podcast with Chris tomorrow and called to confirm but the dude didn’t answer. I tried calling him and his phone is dead.”

I stopped working, turning in my seat to look at my phone with a furrowed brow. "You haven't heard from him lately have you?" Vin asked.

"No," I racked my brain for the last time I spoke to him and to be honest in our time off- all three weeks of it- I hadn't heard a peep from him. He'd been radio silent, social media silent, he was like a ghost. This was highly unusual for Chris, who was normally very active on social media and kept in frequent contact with friends. The fact that Seth had called looking to confirm a podcast recording and gotten no response was troubling. Chris wasn't the type to miss appointments or fail to return calls. A knot of worry began forming in my stomach as I thought back to our last conversation right before the break. Chris had seemed distracted and evasive, not his normal upbeat self.

As I gazed at the ominous clouds through the large window in my home office, I could see the flurries hadn’t yet started to stick to the ground. The sky was filled with menacing, steel-colored clouds that appeared swollen with moisture, ready to burst open and release their wintry payload at any moment. Though I was unsure just how much snow we'd be getting, the clouds foretold that it would be a significant amount - likely enough to disrupt travel plans and force people indoors.

Vin continued rambling excitedly through the phone about his successful streaming channel, oblivious to the weather outside. As he chattered on, I grabbed my heavy winter jacket from the closet and slipped it on over my hoodie to brace for the cold. I jammed my feet into sturdy boots and interrupted Vin mid-sentence to let him know I was headed over to check on Chris before the storm hit. Vin understood and we exchanged quick goodbyes before hanging up. I snatched my keys and wallet and headed out the front door into the freezing air, making sure to lock up behind me.

The apartment was eerily quiet as I unlocked the door, my voice echoing off the high ceilings as I called his name. No response. Where could he be? I scanned the living room to my left, noticing his expensive gaming system had been left untouched, neatly tucked into its designated space under the TV stand, the controllers precisely lined up next to it. My eyebrow raised in surprise - he never left his gaming system so tidy. The bright flashing lights and sounds of racing cars or epic battles were typically blaring at this hour as he lounged on the couch. His absence was odd. I wandered slowly through the open concept space - past the leather couch and recliner, both somehow free of his usual piles of laundry and takeout containers. The dining table was spotless, cleared of the stacks of mail and bills that normally covered it. I peeked into the kitchen expecting to see dishes piled up and counters covered in crumbs. But it was impossibly clean. The spotless marble gleamed under the lights, not a single dirty mug or plate left in the sink. The entire place felt sterile, like a model apartment ready for showing. Where was the comfortable clutter and busy energy that was usually present when he was home? Where were the signs of life? The apartment was untouched, everything perfectly in its place. Too perfect. Too quiet. Too still.

The takeout boxes from that vegan joint down the block are piling up in his trash. I open the fridge hoping to grab a snack, but it's practically barren - just a few protein shakes lining the door and not much else. The empty shelves and lack of fresh food signal that he hasn't been grocery shopping in a while. I gaze at the sparse contents, disappointed by the lack of options. Over the wind howling outside, I hear soft footsteps approaching. I stand up and gently close the fridge door, careful not to make any noise. As I turn around, our eyes meet and she freezes, poised on her tiptoes across the living room. Her eyes are wide, and her body stiff with tension. She looks caught off guard to see me standing in the kitchen. I offer a faint, awkward smile, unsure what to say. We stare at each other for a long moment, the howling wind outside filling the heavy silence between us. 

I can't take my eyes off her. She's wearing nothing but Chris’s horror mania shirt, her smooth legs on full display. Her dark hair cascades over her shoulders, looking slightly mussed in an alluring way. I know I've seen her before, but in this moment, I can't remember where. A deep blush spreads across her cheeks as she meets my gaze, making her even more irresistible. She starts fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, suddenly shy. But I'm drawn to her like a magnet. I want to be the one making her blush, making her nervous in that tantalizing way. I imagine what it would feel like to run my hands through that messy hair. She's a vision I can't look away from. I need to know who she is.

The apartment door opens and Chris comes in one hand holding a paper bag with what has to be food and coffee in his other. His brown eyes bug wide as he takes in me in his kitchen and her in his living room. The door closes slowly behind him as his lip curls into a smile, “Well, this is awkward.”

Setting the coffee and food on the table, Chris steps between me and his mystery girl, whispering something in her ear and she pads away back to his room. 

He turns to me. "What are you doing here, man?"

He's not mad. I've seen Mad Chris before, and this ain't it. I shrug. I gesture around the room. "I expected to find you in your boxers, surrounded by vanilla Coke cans and takeout boxes, face glued to the TV as you school some noobs at Halo. I didn't expect..." I point toward the bedroom. "Who is she?"

Chris grins as he picks up his coffee. "Eve. Remember that concert in Denver almost a year ago?"

"The one night stand you wouldn't shut up about as you dragged your sorry ass out of the hotel?"

Chris has always had a knack for pulling gorgeous women. Hell, I didn't even bat an eye when he was dating Emily or Melanie - I was completely wrapped up in my own relationship at the time. But this new girl of his...man, she's something else. The moment I saw her, I couldn't peel my eyes away. Her nervous smile, her cute face as she blushes, the way she moves...Chris hit the jackpot with this one. I hate to admit it, but I'm crazy jealous. For the first time, I find myself wishing I was in his shoes.

He'd gone on for hours about how spectacular the sex was, how it had been like a heavenly experience. I couldn't really understand. Sex for me was so...different. I never got myself physically involved with someone without knowing them enough to be certain I could make them writhe. For me, intimacy required a deep connection and understanding of my partner. I needed to know what made them tick, what drove them wild with pleasure. But for him, it seemed the act itself was enough. The sheer thrill of the moment overpowered any need for a profound bond. As long as the passion burned hot, he lost himself completely. We all seek intimacy in different ways, I suppose.

Now that I was connecting the dots it made sense all the days he’d be texting on his phone. him smiling down at the screen, his thumbs busily typing away messages to someone. His facial expressions and body language implied that some of those conversations were more intimate or exciting in nature. At the time, I was preoccupied with my own relationship troubles after a difficult breakup, leaving me feeling lonely, insecure and admittedly a bit resentful of other people's happiness. I simply looked the other way, too absorbed in my own problems to care or investigate further.

Now that I know he is alive I feel like I am suddenly a third wheel. I straighten my jacket and head for the door, ready to make a quick and quiet exit before they notice I'm leaving. But just as my hand reaches the doorknob, her voice stops me.

“Leaving already?” She's still wearing his shirt, though now with leggings peeking out from underneath the hem. Her long hair cascades over her right shoulder as she runs a brush through it, working patiently through the tangles. I turn to face her, but find myself struck speechless. No words come, either to my mind or my lips. I'm frozen, unable to articulate the storm of emotions swirling inside me. 

My hand is frozen on the doorknob as she steps closer, close enough I can see the beautiful color of her eyes. She throws the combed locks back over her shoulder giving me a reassuring smile. “It’s snowing like crazy, I’m sure Chris could have more food delivered. Stay for a while, please.”

I stand paralyzed, unable to turn the knob and exit into the blizzard outside. The howling wind rattles the windows as snow piles up, sealing us inside. But it's not the storm that roots me in place - it's her. As she approaches, her eyes lock onto mine, luminous pools of emerald that see right through me. 

I don't like feeling so exposed, I like to be sure I know what I'm doing, saying, wearing before I go anywhere, talk to anyone. I take so much time planning how my outfit will look, although my wardrobe is all black it is complimentary black, each piece fitting perfectly with the next. I carefully coordinate every detail, from the textures and drapes of my fabrics, to the subtle sheens on my leather accessories. My style is precise, polished, intentional. Even my hair is meticulously styled, whether I decide to shave it close or let it grow out a bit. My shoes are both functional and stylish - sleek boots or oxfords that allow me to stride with purpose. Everything I do is calculated, I run through every step, every word, every motion that I will take when I go somewhere. I visualize each scenario, planning my actions and reactions. I examine every angle of how I will be perceived. The satisfaction I feel when my external presentation aligns perfectly with my internal sense of self is profound. The confidence I exude stems from the control I exert over each aspect of my persona. My wardrobe, my grooming, my mannerisms - they are an artful composition designed to eliminate any unease. I find freedom in the mastery of my image and interactions. What some may see as exhausting is for me energizing - it is deeply fulfilling to meticulously shape how I am viewed by the world.

In this unexpected moment, my mind goes blank and I find myself utterly unprepared. All the carefully crafted excuses and explanations I had ready vanish into thin air. A wave of fear washes over me as I fumble for words, stuttering and stammering incoherently. I grasp for any plausible justification, rambling about the treacherous drive and hazardous weather conditions, but the absurdity of cautioning you against venturing out in the very storm I'm about to confront myself quickly dawns on me. My mouth flaps uselessly, spewing disjointed fragments like a fish flung onto land and gasping for breath. I'm flailing helplessly, lost in this unforeseen situation. Finally, my brain catches up and I clamp my lips together, silencing the nonsensical babble. An uneasy silence settles between us and I shift uncomfortably, racking my mind for something - anything - sensible to say. But I come up empty. The carefully constructed facade I had prepared so meticulously has shattered, leaving me exposed and unprepared in this unexpected moment.

She smiles so softly tilting her head as she asks me to stay one more time. The snow provides the perfect excuse to linger a little longer in her intoxicating presence. She must feel it too, the magnetic pull between us that demands more time together. As the flakes continue to fall outside, blanketing the world in white, inside sparks a flame that melts my frozen hesitance. 

I suddenly remember why I came, turning to Chris as I shove my hands in my pockets. “Seth called Vin, said you didn’t answer about your podcast scheduled for tomorrow.” Chris was busy shoving something in his mouth pausing mid bite with eyes wide. He swallowed hard mumbling curses under his breath as he dropped his food on the table to drag his phone out of his pocket.

 I watched as he frantically scrolled through missed calls and unread texts, no doubt seeing the reminders about tomorrow's podcast that he had ignored earlier. A look of frustration and self-annoyance crossed over Chris' face. He was upset with himself for overlooking something so important. As he processed the situation, Chris seemed to sink into a state of stress and anxiety. His eyes held a faraway look, likely imagining the work he'd have to hustle to get done before tomorrow's recording.

"You said you wouldn't be busy while I was here," she sounded wounded. "Now I feel guilty." Chris turned to her with an apologetic look, realizing that his oversight had not only affected his work responsibilities but also his personal commitments. He opened his mouth as if to explain or make amends, but no words came out. I could see the remorse on his face and knew he felt terrible.

“Well, hey, i’m free tomorrow. I have some errands to run and maybe she could tag along…” I find myself offering to have her tag along to run errands, even though I know so little about this person. Typically, I prefer my solitude when taking care of mundane tasks and avoid having others accompany me. Yet, in this moment, I feel compelled to extend an invitation. She intrigues me, and I'm curious to learn more in a relaxed, casual setting as we check off items on our to-do lists. I want to observe how we interact outside structured conversation - note the cadence of our chatter, what makes her laugh, what irks her. The everyday offers a glimpse into personality. In the routine of errands, guards drop and authenticity emerges.

“I wouldn’t want to bother you,” Her eyes dart nervously between the scuffed hardwood floor and Chris's warm, reassuring gaze from across the room.

“If Rick is offering it’s not a bother, he wouldn’t offer if he didn’t mean it.” Chris reassures her with a smile as he puts his phone to his ear, “Seth, hey man, sorry about that…” his conversation trails off as he paces to the back of the apartment. 

Of course that man knows me better than I know myself sometimes. I’m still standing there awkwardly in the door finding my eyes dropping to the handle as if it will be a quick escape from this uncomfortable situation. "I should go," I feel the words roll out of my mouth and almost instantly regret them, "I’ve got projects at home I need to finish before tomorrow. I’ll be back around 11, we’ll head out then." I don't let her respond or persuade me to stay again, instead taking the door knob in a vice grip and slipping out of the door and down the hall before she can say anything. My heart pounds as I make my hasty exit, feeling a mix of relief at avoiding further awkwardness but also regret that I couldn't bring myself to stay. All the way home I mentally kick myself for offering to take her out tomorrow in the first place. Now I can't cancel as that would be rude, but I can already feel my mind start to anxiously overthink the situation - what am I gonna do, what am I gonna say, what will I wear? My stomach ties itself in knots as I imagine all the ways I could embarrass myself, but also the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it will go well after all. I try to push the swirling thoughts from my mind, take a deep breath, and focus on finishing my work so I'll be ready for whatever tomorrow brings.

#bad omens rpf #noah sebastian fic #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #Chris Motionless fic #Chris Motionless smut #ricky olson smut #ricky olson fic #miw band #miw #chris motionless #chrismotionlessfanfic #motionless in white fanfiction #motionless in white smut #polyverse

[thewritersaddictions]

The Wanderers: Negan Smith- Oh, Hell P2

Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader, Rick grimes & Platonic!Reader, Daryl Dixon & Platonic!Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, sex shops (Talk of sex toys), Negan is a warning you can't change my mind, Negan being a dick as usual, violence, physical abuse, sex, reader talking to themselves, fears.

Summary: On a search for things you find a sex shop; coming back to Alexandria you put the items you found amount the other things going to Negan. It leads to an interesting conversation with Negan.

A/n- Firefly-graphics for dividers. I might have gone overboard, but when the thoughts keep coming you just gotta keep writing.

WC- 6.2k

The Walking Dead Master List // The Wanderers Master List

I grabbed more clothes than I think I’d ever held in my entire life. Anything and everything on the racks. The bags that I had leftover were filling up quickly. Daryl watched as I gazed over the kid's clothes. Baby's clothes had been untouched for so long that a thin layer of dust was on all of the, “We should grab some stuff for Judith.” Daryl said looking over at me through the clothes racks. Including everything I had I stuffed so many clothes into the three bags that I wasn’t able to properly close any of them. It would have been easier if I could fold them and then put them in the bag, but Daryl and I knew we didn’t have time to be so OCD about the moment. 

I gave the three bags I had to Daryl. There was a shop that had caught my eye when he first arrived. In big bold pink letters above the shops doors read “Right Spot” A clever name for type of shop it was. A sex shop was in this small little town. Probably not there because anyone in the town wanted it there, but because people were always passing through, and what do you see on the side of the road all of the time when driving through hilltops and country roads. Sex shops.

I thought for a moment. If I walked over here and grabbed anything I might have to explain myself to Daryl, but maybe I wouldn’t. I had to take the chance, and anyways I had heard through the grape vine when we all sat on our knees that fateful night that Negan had many wives. Five or more wives, so maybe if I grabbed something to be helpful and nice to the ladies and to Negan then he wouldn’t be giving me thought unwanted winks, and stares. I was slow to enter the building. The window displays still showed a little bit of lace thrown on plastic frame. 

My gun drawn. No way there was any walkers in this building. When the zombies hit the world it was nearly twelve at night. Not a soul should or would be here. I pushed the door open. When I opened the door, it looked like this building had never been touched. Not a thing was a disrupted on the walls. Racks filled with things that helped out during sex, or just helped out during your own private sessions.

Dildos, lube, vibrators and evrything else you would see in a sex shop was littered all around me. It was hard to take in the smell. It was perfect to the what the world smelt like before the zombies came and devoured half the damn population. I needed to be quick about this or Darly would come looking for me. I ran to the back table. Looking around for one of those black bags. When I found one, i grabbed more then one. I looked out into the aisle that I was now taking for my own. 

I reached for the first thing that I saw. A few dildos all different sizes and skin tones. Anything that would pleasure any women that was alone by herself. If Negan was shit to us then I could only imainge what he was like to his wives, or how he acted in bed. 

I shook my head at the thought of Negan in bed. He probably had that hot dad bod. Not cut but toned perfectly. From there I started to shove vibrators into the bag grabbing a few bottles of lube. My own over shoulder bag, was empty of something for myself. Should I even grab something? ‘Y/n just grab a damn vibrator, your fingers aren’t cutting it anymore.’ The thought ran so fast past my head that I just reached out for whatever I could find. Grabbing them and shoving them into my shoulde bag. I shook my head and tied the back shut before walking out back into the horribly smelly world we now lived in. 

I threw the bags into the back of the sedans back seat. My own over shoulder bag hitting the floorboard. “so , Right spot?” Daryl said as he turned the engine over. I looked over at him, “Don’t even D.” I said looking back onto the long street. The sun was half way through the sky when we started out drive back to Alexandria. 

When we arrived, the gates to Alexandria open letting us in. It was dark outside by now, and not many people where awake beside the guards that sat near the gates. Daryl pulled the car to stop, and without a word spoken between the two of us. We both got out, I grabbed the bags of food, while Daryl grabbed the many bags worth of clothes. We walked in sync to the storage garage. Dropping the bags. I went back to the car to grab the black bag, and my own personal bag. With that I took it all back to my house. 

Negan would be back in just a few days. Five days to gather anything else that we could find. Another group went out the next day. Rick and Michonne stuffed themselves into a car saying goodbye to Carl and Judith. That morning I went over to the storage garage and put all the food up on the metal shelves. Diving everything would be the hopes of what Negan would be asking for. 

As I packed things away in their resepted spots I heard the light walking behind me. Carol was behind me, baby judith on her hip. “Hey Y/n, you and Daryl managed to get rather a large load.” She said, bouncing Judith on her hip. I looked up, “Yeah, we found a town that hadn’t even been ransacked. It was nice.” I said, turning back to sorting the can foods. “We all saw Negan give you that look.” Carol said. Her tone was softer then usual. Like even she didn’t want him to see him the next time he came by Alexandria. 

I hummed along with her. “Everyone?” I asked, if everyone had seen it then that meant that Negan was fine with being a dick infront of everyone on a different level. Different level of dick then before. “Yeah and we are family so we won’t let that dirt bag touch you.” Carol said, walking over towards me. Her hand resting softly on my shoulder. Carol was like the mother of our whole group, the comforting person that all of us came to when we were in need. 

My thoughts took me over when Carol and Judith left. Had everyone seen the seductive way that Negan had winked at me, how he licked his lips. As if I was some great meal that he was just waiting to eat. Was I terrified to see him the next time? No, I wasn’t terrified, I was worried that this would gett out of hand. That Negan was going to have no boundaries and want to see or talk to me. 

Alone. What could possibly happen if we were alone? 

 For the next few days a whole new set of groups went out. Thinking that the more we grabbed the longer that Negan would hopefully leave us alone. I did everything I could to take my mind off Negan and his crew coming to our gates in just a few days. I orginaized the clothes into genders, and I grabbed the baby clothes I got for Judith and took them to where Rick and Michonne were staying. I wasn’t aware just how quiet I had gotten over the past  several days since i talked to Carol. When I got to Ricks. I softly knocked on the door, not sure if Judith was asleep or not. 

Rick answered the door and let me in. “Y/n? Everything alright?” Rick said as I stood in his living room. I shook my head, “yeah I’m fine I just wanted to give you these clothes I grabbed for Judith while Daryl and I went out.” I said, setting the folded clothes on to the couch. “Oh, thank you Y/n, I was just starting to think that we didn’t have anything for Judith to size up into.” Rick said coming over. He scanne through the clothes before looking back over at me. 

“He comes back today.” I said. I was scared, I didn’t know what was going to happen. Personally I was scared for myself, but then the idea that we were even in this situation it was even worse to think about. “Yeah he comes back today.” Rick said, sitting down. “But I think from everyone who went out we got enough ohold him off.” Rick said patting the couch cushion for me to sit down next to him. 

“But what if it’s not enough, Rick?” I asked, looking over him. Rick never looked like he didn’t have a plan. Rick never looked like he was speechless. But right now Rick looked like he wasn’t sure what would happen if Negan wasn’t satfiifed with everything we had grabbed. “I’m not sure Y/m, but whatever happens we’ll all be together.” After that I left Ricks and went back home. 

I tried my hardest not to think about the dreading feeling that was seeping through my body, into my bones. The horrible feeling that was sinking further and further into my mind. By every passing second, and sound the the worry growing within me. 

The gates groaned in horror when Negan showed up. I know that there wasn’t a single way of getting out of seeing Negan today. We would all be forced to be apart of this day. I still had things that I needed to add, hopefully I would be able to put the bag in a box and leave the situation alone. I never wanted to be the center of attention, but it’s hard when the guy that you’re sorta attrated to is just a massive dick. I threw myself off the couch grabbing the black bag. I tied it a million times, I knew that if they really wanted to know what was in the bag that they would tear in to right there.

So, I shoved the black bag into a trashbag. ‘I’d write a note… No don’t write a note’ ‘Writing a note would be like saying that you want him to come back to Alexandria and pick you out of a line up just so he can get you alone in your house’ I wrote the note anyways. 

“Be careful with this bag.” That was all I wrote. If Negan wanted to investigate then he’d have to take it up with everyone. There would be no way for him to know that it was from me, or that it was my own handwriting.It would take Negan and his people a minute to surround us, so I walked fast. My heels hitting the ground quick and hard. I dumped the bag next to a set of other boxes. I wasn’t dressed to be out in the morning air. Cool and breezing past everyone. 

I was standing next to Rick. His demanor changed immediately when he saw Negan. Our leader fell so quickly. Went from looking straight and forward a sense of noblity to him, to looking down at the ground like a puppy that had been scorned for getting into the garbage. I tried to conceal myself. “You should go back inside.” I heard Rick under his breathe. “What? No, I’m not leaving everyone else out here to deal with this dick.” I said shock ripping through my body. 

This day instead of a leather jacket, Negan had on a nice white t-shirt. Lucille hung over his shoulder, and he somehow looked cockier. It was like a waterfall of disgust and cocky attitude that fell down from him and all over Alexandria. I looked over negan and his eyes were on me. I wasn’t wearing the right thing for this. 

My sleep wear. A tight fitting shirt that gave nothing to imagination to my breasts, and a pair of loose fitting sweats the last thing that I had from before this whole thing started. Something that I tried to keep clean. Bare feet on the ground. I really wasn’t meant to be here right now, but there was no backing out now. 

“Oh look at you two.” Negan said pointing to the two of us with Lucille. I had been instinct wrapped my arm around Ricks arm. I was trying to disappear behind him, but two small people can’t hide behind each other. Can they? 

“We got everything..” Rick went to say. Negan was still walking closer and closer to the both of us. “I didn’t ask you talk yet.” Negan said to Rick. I swallowed hard, fear wasn’t the word for what Negan made most of us feel. Negan made most of us feel like out stomachs where going to flip inside out, we all dreaded seeing him, all for our own reasons. 

Some just simply disliked him, some loathed him because he had killed a close and loved one. Some people where apprehensive of who Negan was, aware of just how diabolical he  truely was. 

“What’s got you two so close huh?” He asked. I went to open my mouth but nothing came out. “Oh, I see there’s something going on between the two of you.” He said laughing. Michonne wasn’t far away from the two of us. I looked through my peripheral trying to see what her face looked like. ‘She knew that wasn’t true’ Negan was just a shit starter, the best at the game I was coming to realize. 

I took a large breathe, “Negan, can we get on with business.” I said, unhooking my hand from Rick’s arm. Gasps were heard around Alexandria. Rick tried to grab onto me, but I was already walking towards Negan. “You aren’t here to gossip. Are you?” I asked. Negan laughed, that laugh that would echo through my mind for the rest of my life. “Aren’t you the business women of the fuckin’ year.” He said. “Gossip or supplies Negan.” I said. Looking over at the pile of shit we had gathered for this asshat. 

Whatever was going to happen might as well get it over sooner then later. “Supplies, doll.” It was short and cut throat. “Good, there’s enough food to last at least a few months. Clothes and not just for you and your gang. But for babies and children too.” I said looking up him. He was just gazing down at me. Staring at me, brown eyes boring into me. I licked my lips and returned to everything that was infront of us. “Tools,and other michalleous shit for you too Negan. Take your shit and get out.” Negan arched him brow looking down at me. 

He would never let Rick talk to him like this. Rick would never talk to Negan like this. Negan had broken something in that man when they both left in the trailer that morning after. It was scary to look at either man. One that would do anything for the right reason, and the other that would do anything for his own self gain. “Did old ricky boy send you to do his work.” He asked. 

I just stood there. There was nowhere else to go. Standing next to Negan was just where I had to be at this point. With a nod of his head Negan gaggle of boys came over grabbing boxes and crates worth of shit we had grabbed for him. 

“Six solid days it took for us to grab this must shit you Negan.” I said, as men passed the two of us. Negan looked down at me. He was trying to work out what to do behind him his eye I would tell. Like he didn’t know what to do to me. We were close no doubt. As close had you had to be to have a conversation at a party. It all happened so fast, his hand came up and slapped me cross the face. The breathe was taken out of me, as I cupped my cheek. Tears wre threatening to pour by the time I looked back up to Negan. “A good reminder of who you’re talkin’ to doll.” He said smirking as he walked away. The last of thing had been grabbed, but I didn’t move from my position. I shook my head, following after him. “You know Negan for whatever type of dick you are. You forget that we.” I said pointing towards my group behind me. “We are the ones that make you have a cushy ass life you live. We are your back bone. Slap me all you want but remember that you don’t live if we don’t.” I said turning back around. My cheek hurt like bitch, but I wasn’t turning around until I walked into my house. 

I didn’t give a shit if Negan wasn’t gone. I didn’t care if the gates to Alexandria opened to let Negan out. I didn’t give a god damn shit. I slammed my front door. My cheek was burning, the tears that had threatened to fall had already run down my cheeks. ‘That was stupid idea.’ Was all I could think. It was on repeat in my brain. I went to my bathroom. He had a left a damn bruise. The blood vessels had popped and this wasn’t going away anytime soon. I heard my front door open, but honestly I didn’t care who was at the door. 

Boots clicked on the floor. ‘Rick’. “Are you okay?” He asked. His shoulder leaning up against the doorframe. I turned and look at him. My cheek was bright red. There was no ignoring that Negan had slapped me with all of his might. “He’ll be back next week. Said he doesn’t want any more of that.” Rick said. My eyes, and ears were tired of hearing bullshit. 

“We have a choice. We always have a fuckin’ choice, Rick.” I was startingto get angeir and angier by the second. The fact that we were in this dumb of an issue was driving me up the wall. Rick just stared at me, as I fumbled around under my sink for some sort of first aid kit. “All of this is bull Rick.” I said sloamming the cabinet doors shut. I sat down on the floor. 

I was already drained of all energy for the day. Negan had slapped me infront of everyone to make an example of me. To show that that shit didn’t fly, and honestly I don’t even know why I stood up and starting in the first place. Maybe it was to protect Rick from any more humiliation, maybe I was just tired of not being able to talk to Negan. It could be a thousand and one things. 

All I knew was that I didn’t want to see that man ever again. If I didn’t have to I wasn’t going to. But atlast my frivolous thinking that I would never see that man again were smashed. It wasn’t even a week later and Negan was banging on our gates. I had at point forgotten about the sex shop, and all the sex toys that I had placed in that trashbag. I wanted that memory to float away from me. Like dreams do, where you just simply start to forget the details. 

The banging didn’t stop til someone let him in. It was just early morning, and I was barely awake. When I heard the muffled shouts coming from outside. I tossed and turned in my makeshift bed on the floor. From the past few days I had yet to sleep nicely. My thoughts seeping into my dreams, Negan was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. When I was awake I wished that I never had to see him again, but when I closed my eyes at night I yearned for the touch of him. Softer this time, but still the touch of him all over me. I shifted in my sleep at one point and heard shouting that was only growing louder and louder by the minute. “I fuckin’ already told you, Rick. I’m going to see her regardless.” It sounded like Negan, but I doubted that he would come back. He had made his rules clear when he left after slapping me. “Negan, please ever you need to talk to Y/n you can do it with me.” I heard Rick plead. The more I listened the more I arose from my sleeplike status. 

I yawned and stretched out between the sheets. “For fuck sake Rick. I’m not gonna say it again.” I heard Negan shout. It’s as if they were right in front of my house. Partially walking in through the doors. “If you don’t go get Y/n right now… We are going to have problems.” I heard Negan say. I heard the knock on my door but stayed still. Hoping that it would all go away. “Y/n.” I heard, rick had let himself in but there was only one pair of hard footsteps walking and getting closer to my room. 

I shut my eye, hoping that it was all just a bad dream. A nightmare that would eventually go away. I hoped it was but that hope was stripped away from me when I felt Rick touch my shoulder. Gently shaking me awake. I fluttered my eyes open. “Y/n, I’m sorry but…” Rick paused, “I need you to come downstairs” I hissed as I turned to hit my face on the carpet. The slap that Negan had given me was still bruised, and red around the corners. 

Negan had marked me his long ago, this was just physical proof that he had some sort of problem with me. I huffed as I got out of the tangle of blankets. My clothes were a little different compared to the clothes I wore the morning Negan came to Alexandria. Sleep shorts, that my ass filled out nicely. A sweatshirt I had found at the start of all of this. Rick started to go down the stairs. “Rick, don’t leave me alone with me,” I said, my voice quieter than normal. For a split second, I saw the face of someone who would do absolutely anything for me or anyone else, then it changed. “I’ll stay outside, you can just holler if you need me.” He said softly before descending the stairs. Disappearing, I got myself up off the floor, pulling my hair out of my face. Before pulling down my shorts, and my sweatshirt.

When I made it down the stairs, I could hear the rhythm of tapping on someones knuckle on my countertop. I turned and expected it to be Rick, but Negan was who I was greeted with. The slap on my face hurt just from looking at him. “Don’t you just take your sweet fuckin’ ti..” His words were cut short. He was staring at me again. I move to be hidden behind my countertop. That would at least cover my exposed thighs. “Your face, doll?” He questioned me. I had no real or true expression on my face. I didn’t feel like playing games. “Why are you here Negan?” I asked ignoring his question. A heavy sigh left Negan and for the first time I saw a different side of him. 

There was something dangerous seeing him like this. How vulnerable he was acting right now. “Did I do that?” he asked. As much as I hated playing games with him, he wasn’t the truth right? “Yeah Negan, now what are you doing in my house?” I asked my fingers drumming along the counter top. “I came.. I came to ask about a bag that was dropped into last weeks pick up.” He said and just like the dick of what Negan was back. “Hm. I don’t know Negan there was a ton of fuckin’ shit there.” I barked back. The stinging in my face was coming back and faster the longer I stared at his devilosly handsome face. He looked more and more tired each time I saw him. Was he just as tired living in this world as I was? 

‘God, Y/n. You just don’t know when to stop talkin. The damn bag you dropped off before you thought nobody was lookin’ nobody was watchin’.” Negan said. “All I fuckin’ want is for you say what I already know.” Negan said. It was smug coming from him, but a demand regardless. A hot demanding demand. “What you wanna know where I got all that shit so you can get more for your stupid wives. I bet you just loved that I grabbed all that shit huh?” I said, was I spitting venom. Calling him out for having other women in his life. 

I was driving myself crazy with my idolization over him. He was just a older hot gentleman that was fuckin’ crazy. I breathed heavy. Rubbing my sweaty palms together. Trying to calm down with Negan in my presence was harder then ever. He was all around me. His collonge was wrapping itself around my thoughts. My straight thoughts were running for a breath of fresh of air. 

“So, you do admit it. You walked into a sex shop grabbed whatever your little heart wanted.” Negan said, I was so in my head I didn’t noticed the shift in the room. I didn’t notice just how close Negan had managed to get to me. Bu when I felt his body behind mine I felt like was going to hell and heaven all at the same time. I tried to get away from his touch, “You aren’t going anywhere doll.” He said his arm coming to trap me between the countertop and his large and stiff body. 

I could feel the growing erection within his pants. Rough jean fabric scratching at my exposed skin. “Negan.” I tired to say, but everything felt like I was floating. A true reality of what dreams felt like. Floating with Negan wrapped all over me. “Did you keep any toys for yourself?” Negan asked as he rutted himself closer and closer to me. I was squashed between the two hard surfaces. “I… I uh.. Yeah.. I kept a few things for myself.” I said, the truth pouring out of my lips without any needed force. 

He turned me in his grasp. My back hitting the countertop edge. Groaning in pain, I was finally so close to him that I could see everything that negan had to give up. Dark brown eyes, flicks of gray that was peppering his bread. Sorrow an dpain behind his large eyes, tired lines that covered his handsome face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Negan said as his fingers grazed softly over the mark on my face. I shut my eyes tightly under the intense gaze. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” I said trying to leave the conversation alone. His pointer finger shifted to my chin forcing me to look back him. Our eyes connected and we just looked at each for a moment. “Y/n, doll it does matter. It’s was simply for the guys behind me and your people. A show of.”Negan said, “power” We said together, “I know that Negan, but what we are doing now?” I questioned him. 

‘Come on sweetheart, you know what we are doing. I’ve been thinking about you for the past few days and waking up this morning to find dildos, vibrators, and all other sort things in a bag from my new favorite stop… You’ve got me growing hard in my jeans princess.” Negan said dipping his head into my neck. 

From there the words no longer mattered, only the physical motion between the two of us. My sweatshirt came flying off, landing on the hardwood floor. Negans mouth was on my skin so fast that I was able to feel his heartbeat against my skin. Wet kisses, hard bites, and scattered hickies littered my skin before Negan was satisfied. My hand gripped and pulled in Negan’s hair. Bucking when Negan would suck harder and then lick the wound like a kitten. 

Everything about him right now was hot, a devil in wolfs clothing was what Negan was and sadly right now it didn’t matter at all. My breasts were in his path, one nipple got teased, a mouth sucking and tugging at the bud. Licking, and blowing all while he was groping and massaging the other, teasing all at the same time. I groaned and moaned in response, pulling harder on his hair. “Fuck, Negan. You’ve got to stop or I’mma cum right here and now..” I groaned out. Negan pulled away, his eyes looking up at me. “Oh no doll. We don’t want that.” Negan teased me. 

“Negan please. I just… I haven’t in such a long time.” I said. Negan picked me up and throw me onto the cold countertop. My ass hitting the countertop slapped agasint the walls. I giggled at sound, but Negan was intent on getting my shorts off. I played a little, wiggling my legs as the fabric fell off of them. He stared me, a funny look on his face. 

Negan was still wearing clothes. I pawed at the fabric. “Please, you can’t be wearing all those clothes.” I whined. He rolled his eyes, a huff. “Please.” I begged him. “Fine, I’ll take off my shirt, I just know you want to see my body.” He said, shucking off his jacket and shirt. Toned frame, that was cut, some slices from after all the zombies. My fingers grazzed over little slices and divots in his skin. His rough hand came to stop mine. “Come on doll we’ve got more important things to do.” He said winking at me before he was right between my thighs. 

His fingers teased at my pussy. A thin layer of wetness covering them as he teased at my clit. Rubbing soft and czlculated circles around. I moaned out in pleasure as he continued his ministrations. Like he was trying out a new toy. And with every flick on his fingers to every movement of his wole hand he got everything right. Negan had me cumming right there on my counter top in no time. My back hit the cold counter top, and the thoughts of the some random daily looking throug this lot before the whole world went to shit bleeped through my mind. I hoped for something the moment as I came down from my high. I hope for a good and healthy family for on ethat wasn’t going to have to deal with horrible world that it was now, but I also hoped and wished for more moment like this. Moment where all I gave a shit about was amyself and my pleasure. I didn’t want to have to think anymore. I wanted to let go and that was what Negan was doing for me. Regardless of how fucked up it was that he had not just but a few weeks ago killed memebers of our group, he had fingers like a god. I could only imagine just how good his cock must be. 

I floated in my world before a nudge from negan brought me back to reality. The reality of cold marble hitting my back. The reality that I still desperately wanted him to sleeve his cock into me. I wanted to be teased but that could be for later on. I just wanted to be fucked and for right now my fasination with Negan was enough to get me through. 

“Come back to reality doll.” I heard Negan’s voice lull. “Do you still want this cock?” He questioned me. Negan was negan regardless of what he was doing. Still the cocky shit that thought he knew everything and he got everything he wanted. “Yeh, come on Negan don’t tease me just fuck me.” I said as I heard the sound of his zipper, then the shuffle of his jeans. Then finally the fall of his jeans. Bare and bare we stared at each other. His cock was bigger then I imaigned. Pinker then I thought, but regardless I wanted it in me and I wanted it now. 

I wanted to feel the girth of his cock push my pussy wider and wider until I was crying with tears. I wanted to feel his balls slap against my ass, when Negan wasn’t able to control his desire anymore. I wanted anything that he could give to me. I felt the head of his cock nudge at my swollen clit. “Oh, Fuck… Neg.. Just.. just put it in already.” I said trying to latch my legs around his waist to pull him and his cock in. I was stopped, A stern expression passing Negans face. “You went to a sex shop and forgot the most important thing.” He said, a raised brow. I was so foggy brained that I wasn;t able to truly answer or think of an answer for Negan. 

All in one quick solid motion. I received an answer. “Condoms, you fuckin’ forgot condoms doll.” He said grunting in, as his cock came to it hilt. His balls sittign perfectly on my ass, and he hovered over me. Our breathes were fast and shallow. Barely trying to catch each other. I hadn’t felt this full in such a long time, was it wrong that the man that was currently fucking my life up was the man that was currently making me come undone. 

He fucked me hard agasint the marble countertop. Whatever else was going on around us it just didn’t matter. I didn’t care if Rick was sitting outside, listening to me moan out in pleasure. I didn’t care if the whole town heard me moan out Negan’s name in pleasure. I could feel his cock twitch within my pussy. “Fuck Negan, you gonna cum?” I half asked him, looking up at him. He was biting his lip, his fingers coming up from my hips to surround my throat. 

“Just be quiet and let me use you. Be a good girl and take my cock huh?” He grunted, as he continued to fuck me. My body ached as he continued to thrust into my pussy. Hot and deep, the sound of skin slappingtogether could be heard as it echoed off the kitchens walls. I was so in my head that I didn’t hear Negan’s grunts became closer and heavier. He was trying to not cum befroe me. 

‘What a gentlemen. We ca. Cum together.” I suggested through breaths, and gasps as his fingers came to play at my clit. “Look at you, for the first time cooking up a good ole idea.” He said, his fingers teasing at my clit, my pussy clenched around his cock forcing his thurst to be rougher and harder. 

My world went black as I hit my high. Eyes rolled back as I felt his seed hit the back of my womb. Negan wasn’t screaming my name or devoting his love to me. A hard squeeze around my throat was the last thing I felt before Negan was pulling his cock from my pussy. 

He was throwing his clothes back, the cold marble countertop was a wonderful feeling. “You’re just going to leave me on the countertop naked and defendless.” I said, the coolness wrapping around my body like a cool blanket. 

“Oh now you want to be treated like a princess, huh?” Negan said cockly. “I don’t know sir, you were pretty okay with slapping me across the face a few days ago.” I said turning on the countertop. Using my arm as a support. I looked at the man that was dressing in front of me. “You aren’t going to let that go are you?” He said rolling his eyes as he slipped back on his leather jacket. 

“Hmm.” I hummed, “I’ll just keep that dangled over your head, cause I know for sure that I wanna fuck you again.” I said, winking at him. “Yeah I figured a slut like you would dangle my ungentlemenly actions over my head, You just wanna make sure I keep fuckin’ you.” Negan said. A short laugh leaving him before he came over and kissed me hard. His tongue nearly choking me as he fucked my mouth with his tongue. When he pulled away, he had a light layer of blush covering his cheeks and a growing erection. My body was ready for another round, but I knew that the longer we stayed here the longer I would fall for this horribly scary gentle man. 

“Don’t you go falling in love with me now doll?” Negan said, “You better get dressed too because when I walk out those doors I’m sending dear old Rick in.” Negan said. I jumped from my position on the countertop and grabbed my scattered clothes, I had found almost everything, besides my panties so I just slipped on my shorts and sweatshirt before I heard Rick come inside, with that, I saw Negans ass walk away and my panties shoved in his back pocket.

Completed on: 01/19/23

Posted on: 01/20/23

The Wanderers- @yourfavdummy

#negan fanfiction #the walking dead negan #twd negan #negan fic #negan smith #negan x you #negan x y/n #negan smith imagine #negan smith x reader #negan smith smut #negan smith x fem!Reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead headcanons #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fic #negan smut #Negan smith smut #fem reader #female reader #fluff #sex shops #daryl dixon #rick grimes #rick grimes x platonic #daryl dixion plantic!reader

[andy-clutterbuck]

Rick Grimes in The Ones Who Live | 1x04 - What We

#*CASH REGISTER NOISE* *DOGS BARKING* *GLASS BREAKING* #Rick Grimes #towl spoilers #The Ones Who Live #* #rg #excuse me but The Nose™ #his face when he realized she said children #let him cuddle his baby boy #I CANNOT #HOW DOES HE KEEP GETTING MORE ATTRACTIVE WHAT KIND OF WITCHCRAFT IS THIS #what's in your water out in the cotswolds man #all those fuzzies #stab me with an entire home depot aisle of rakes #I SAID #F U Z Z I E S #i never win i am winning #bless all the lines on your face #they beautiful and sacred #if you don't want to nuzzle into that beard i don't trust you tbh #im putting you on a watchlist #nice rack rick

[the-prsc]

Day 5

Previously on PRSC... 

The second cross-band camp is formed, The Conglomerate. This is the combo of Rush (as a whole), Emerson and Palmer of ELP, and finally, Chris and Rick from Yes.

Keith has (for want of a better term) lost his shit following the murder of his friend and bandmate, Greg. He’s racked with guilt and angst. So far, this has led to attempts to loot the Rush camp. This makes the other bands put him into isolation.

Death Count: 1 

In the Conglomerate... 

The prog supergroup of a camp is flourishing with the increase of personnel. Chris (of the Yes group) has remembered that he brought his lighter with him into the arena and has had it with him all along. This has made a large number of differences. Chris has been making himself useful, making basic torches that he can light easily with his lighter. This of course means that the bands can work longer hours and then have more relaxing evenings afterwards. The others have democratically been assigned positions in the Conglomerate: 

 Alex oversees hunting/fishing, working (reluctantly) with Keith 

When Chris isn’t working on light sources, he and Geddy gather resources like wood, mushrooms and vegetables. 

When the four of them get back from these missions, Alex meets Rick around the fire, and they cook it all to be eaten later (while also having a great laugh!) 

Neil does all the heavy lifting jobs and manual labor. He is the strongest (in body and mind) of the guys at the conglomerate, and he rarely shows any sign of weakness. Carl (from ELP), helps him with these tasks and tries to make himself useful elsewhere 

They were visited by one of Fripp’s messengers earlier this morning. This caused something of an awkwardness as this messenger was Bill, previously of Yes, Bruford. Needless to say, Chris kept his distance, and the others didn’t give much information away to "The Court".

Over In Epping Forest... 

Genesis, are doing surprisingly well considering their somewhat rough start and two pretty much unusable members (Tony due to his boredom and Peter as he is too whimsy). Tony’s Etch-a-Sketch Mona Lisa is coming along nicely, with the hair pretty much complete now! They have the most efficient food gathering of any of the bands because of their new advancements in fishing "equipment". They are also cooking the fish properly on a cooking rack that Phil, Steve and Mike put their heads together to create. Not bad, Genesis! 

Politics In the Court... 

Robert Fripp has been sending scouts to various areas of the arena looking for other bands so he can learn of their progress (and make sure to be one step ahead of anything they may try). These chosen people are possibly his most brainwashed band mates, Bill and Jamie(referred to as James by Fripp). Fripp’s endless control over the arena is worrying David rather a lot. As you may know, he has been demanding to be referred to as "The Crimson King" for some time and now with his men in charge of "Foreign Intelligence" and "Defense", our violin playing friend is worried that The Court may not be as democratic as he was encouraged to believe... 

That’s all for today, so we’ll see you tomorrow for... 

The Prog Rock Survival Competition!

#progrocksurvivalcompetition #prsc #progressive rock #prog rock #prog #rock #elp #genesis band #king crimson #rush #yes band

[sealie-seolh]

The Crow’s Nest

“Tik, tikk, tik, tik,” Nicolò encouraged as he offered minced up worm to a fluffy chick wrapped in an old blanket by the cottage’s fire.

“Habibi?” Yusuf sighed into his palms. He had only been away for three nights, and Nicolò had managed to adopt a baby crow of all things.

“Yusuf!” Nicolò glowed, but he continued to feed the fluffy scrap.

Mentally, Yusuf shrugged, knowing that they had a new companion for the next twenty odd years of their stretched lives.

“How was your trip?” Nicolò asked.

“I passed Andromache’s papers to Marlowe. He knew of their content before I gave them to him.” Yusuf shrugged. “I do not know what he will make of the information.”  

“He will make of it what he will,” Nicolò’ said, phlegmatically.

“And who do we have here?” Yusuf crouched beside his love.

“I am not naming him,” Nicolò declared.

Oh? That was different.

“I took him from the terrible children living in the croft by the river. They told me that they found him in that woody copse by the old farm,” Nicolò said. “I suspect that they stole him from the nest when the parents were collecting food for their nestling. I will return him in the morning.”

Outside the windows, the night was as black as the crow’s wings.

“Will we be up all night feeding the babe?” Yusuf asked, knowing both his love and learning from a parade of rescued animals over many years.

“Yes. I will welcome you home, properly, my love, when we have returned the baby.” Nicolò raised his face, and Yusuf had to kiss him.

The rapacious hunger of a growing passerine crow or raptor demanded feeding at every strike of the bell. Looking after a nestling was a labour of love or the dedication of a master falconer. Nicolò embodied both, and Yusuf was his willing partner.

“Do you need more worms minced or shall I find us an old chicken from the coop?” such was the language of love.    

Yusuf cradled the nestling in the blanket as Nicolò stalked ahead of him scanning trees, up and down, left and right.

He spotted the nest almost instantly. Yusuf followed Nicolò’s gaze up to the large nest tucked in the spindly branches high above them.

“Uhm, it is good that we’re immortal,” Yusuf said. “I don’t think that those branches are going to support our weight. Falling. Inevitable.”

The nest was perfectly situated to look over the farmers’ fields around the woodland. A crow, screeching angrily, perched beside the nest. Ready to protect, on alert, previously disturbed.

“Why do they like to nest so high up?” Nicolò asked rhetorically.

Yusuf handed the chick over. “I’ll go back home and get the ladder.”

“And some ropes.”

“And some ropes.”

                               ~*~

Yusuf returned with the ladder, somewhat delayed by Widow Soli, who had wanted to chat and find out why such a nice boy had a ladder and rope. Saving a baby crow had made her wander off shaking her head at their idiocy. Boys.

Nicolò was, as he expected, half way up the tree, sitting in the vee where the main trunk forked. The nestling was tucked in his hood, pecking furiously at Nicolò’s long braid, squalling for food. Two crows circled the tree, cawing furiously.

Yusuf didn’t vacillate, he set the ladder against the trunk and shimmied up.

“Tesoro.” Nicolò offered a stabilising hand.

“Are there other chicks in the nest?” Yusuf asked, as he hauled the rick-rack ladder up behind them.

“One, I think?”

They might then have a better chance of the crows taking the baby back, Yusuf supposed. If there had been four, mother and father may have purposely thrown the baby from the nest, saving effort and food for the strongest nestlings.

“Illya was not cast out,” Nicolò read his mind—and he had named the crowling. “He would have likely been injured from the fall. Those dreadful urchins stole him.”

Indeed, above them the bark was scuffed and branches broken, leaves torn by small feet and hands: climbing.

Yusuf got the base of the ladder wedged where the main two branches bifurcated. Nicolò eeled around him, helping angle and prop the ladder in and on the tangle of branches and twigs up toward the nest. Yusuf would hold and Nicolò would climb.

“This will be fun,” Nicolò proclaimed.

Caw!

“Climb, Nicolò, before we lose an eye or worse.”

Yusuf braced the ladder as Nicolò slowly scaled each rung. He used the tangle of branches on either side to stabilise his climb rather than putting all of his weight on the rickety ladder. The larger crow settled just above the intricate twiggy cup of the nest, and cocked its head to the side, watching.

“I am returning your baby,” Nicolò said lowly.

Yusuf imagined a baleful red cast to the demon bird’s eye. He remembered many battles with such birds feasting on the aftermath of carnage.

Nicolò reached the near top of the ladder. Yusuf strained to hold the unwieldy weight steady, feet braced on stouter branches, muscles screaming.

“Hurry, my love.”

Nicolò scooped Illya out of his hood, and with the utmost gentleness placed the baby into the nest.

“Be well, and thrive, Illya.”

The mother bird swooped low, snatching a tuft of hair from the side of Nicolò’s head. He swore, but didn’t flinch, so as not to knock the nest from the tree. Blood ran down the side of his head, coating his ear and glistening. There was an ominous creak.

The ladder under Yusuf’s hands juddered.

“Nicolò!”

He jumped, removing his weight from the ladder so that the branch didn’t break and threaten the nest. Like a cat he dropped, slapping branches as he plummeted, slowing his fall. He fell the last few feet into the soft mulch below.

“Nicolò!” Yusuf hung out of the tree.

Nicolò lay on his back in his own nest of broken twigs and leaves. “I am well, Hayati.”

Yusuf dropped the ladder on him, as a matter of principle.

                               ~*~

Yusuf lay content, cradled in Nicolò’s arms. They had saved a baby bird. He was peculiarly satisfied by the day’s actions. A simple act. Nicolò was radiant; happy. They had eaten a humble dinner, a stew of lentils and dried fruit, with hearty, buttered bread. Before a gently glowing fire, they read the next chapter of their book by candlelight, turning pages together. Yusuf always ahead of Nicolò—waiting patiently for Nicolò to stroke his finger, signalling: Onwards, my love.

Tap. Tap.

Yusuf craned his head around. Nicolò was already untangling himself from their blanket nest.

“Nicolò,” Yusuf whined. “You’re letting in the cold. It was the wind, rattling the glass.”

“I’m just checking, Yusuf.” Nicolò pecked a kiss on the top of his head.

Nicolò pushed his beaky nose against one of the panes of sugar glass in the window, and squinted outside. His eyesight might be unparalleled but Nicolò was not going to be able to see anything in the pitch black darkness. He cracked open the window letting in a sudden, icy stab of air.

“Nico!”

“Sshh,” Nicolò soothed, closing the window just as quickly.

Yusuf lifted the blankets, letting Nicolò bury in next to him. He could have sworn that Nicolò was chilled in the heartbeats it had taken him to check that they were safe. But Yusuf knew that he enjoyed dramatics.

“What was it?” Yusuf asked. “What did you see?”

Nicolò held up a rosy, luminescent stone in the firelight.  

“What?” Yusuf plucked it from his fingers. It was cool to the touch.

“River quartz,” Nicolò said. “Left on the window sill.”

“How?”

“I think,” Nicolò said, snuggling in, “our new friends have left us a thank you gift.”

fin

#the old guard #fanfic #mini-fic #mini-togfics #my fic

[lacontroller1991]

Heart-Broken x2 (Rick Flag x F!Reader)

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Requested by @edwardbaldwin: “ that guy's a real jerk. you should be with someone who respects you. “ “ and who would that be?” With Rick Flag?

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It doesn't take long for Rick to find you, after all, you are just sitting on the steps of his apartment waiting for him. Upon seeing your soaked frame, Rick places his hands on his hips and lets out a sigh.

"What happened?" You look up at him through your running mascara, the nice dress you had put on no longer flowing around you, instead it clings to your skin like a second layer.

"He broke up with me," the words are soft and broken and Rick's heart aches. "And I know you told me he would or that he would break my heart, but I wasn't expecting it to hurt this bad," Rick plops down on the stair next to you and your head immediately falls to his shoulder as sobs rack through your shivering body. "I should have seen it coming. I should have know it was going to happen and I should not have gotten my hopes up that he was going to propose. I mean look at me, Ricky, I dressed up for him and now I'm a sopping mess," you choke out a sob as Rick wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his warm body, not minding the fact that you're getting him wet in the process.

"I'm sorry (Y/N). That guy's a real jerk. You should be with someone who respects you."

You look up from his shoulder and meet his soft hazel eyes. "And who would that be?"

Rick gulps as he starts to panic. Should he come out and admit it to you now? Should he admit that he's been crushing on you for the longest time or would it be insensitive after you just got dumped. How would you even respond? "Someone's out there for you, I know it."

Your heart shatters more. You loved your ex, but you are in love with Rick Flag and hearing him say 'someone' shatters your already broken heart more.

Rick can see the visible disappointment in your eyes but pushes the thought down. Now is not the time to admit his feelings. "How about we go inside and get warmed up?"

"Yeah, sounds good to me," you reply and he helps you stand up before leading you into his apartment.

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Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @witchygagirl @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @heart-0n-fire @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @mattymurdocksbitch @katjnordstrom96 @bb-skyrunner @edwardbaldwin @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @klmurr @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma

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[conradball64]

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