It's scary to be transgender in the world right now but if you're transgender I love you and we have to stick together and keep fighting and keep living and keep loving
hey btw fictional smut is not real sex. since i know there's plethora of young audience here who reads thinking they need to be like the porn in fics, no you don't. let me tell you that tits come in all sizes and it's normal. sagging is normal. stretch marks, scars, hairy bodies are normal. strawberry skin is okay. hyperpigmentation in pelvic region is normal. not every pussy is light barbie pink. a vagina looks like a vagina; you don't have to be grossed out. most of the women can't squirt at all also can't cum with just vaginal penetration. 6 inches is big. always use protection. prep it before you put it in. don't ever try anal without lube and stretching. not everyone cums like seven times back to back. aftercare is important. and lastly for the love of god, do not ever try cervix fucking.
hey everybodyyyy! i'm back and this time with frank mf castle. he has me in a chokehold rn
synopsis: frank never expected to fall in love again after maria, didn't think he was capable of it until matt murdock's baby sister took over every inch of his brain. he was down bad and utterly obsessed. after months of not seeing her, she showed up at his apartment.
word count: 4114
content warnings, mdni 18+
f!reader, curvy!reader, reader wears glasses, ddba!frank, mutual pining, idiots in love, frank is absolutely down bad for bambi, protective!frank, possessive!frank, pussy worship (it's been a while and he's feral), oral (f. receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, use of good girl, use of little girl (once), frank has a competence kink maybe??, let me know if i forgot anything x
my masterlist
Frank never expected to fall in love again after Maria. Didn’t think he deserved it, didn’t think he was capable of being soft for anyone anymore. He certainly never planned on falling for Matt fucking Murdock’s little sister of all people. He fell for her quickly, he had a soft spot for people like her. Shy, sweet, kindhearted, who couldn’t protect themselves. He had that same kind of instinct with his wife before she died, that flare up whenever she was in danger. It was like this primal, animal side took over him. He was utterly brutal when it came to anyone trying to hurt her, even if it was something small like a comment that her shirt looked weird.
No woman had even caught his eye until Bambi, hell his sex drive had practically been nonexistent after 5 years without sex, he’d shut off that part of himself. But now? Frank was damn near feral when it came to Bambi. She was a drug to him, he was so in love with her and possessive it made him feel crazy sometimes, not to mention the treasure between her thighs he had been dying to get a glimpse of. The two met up once a week for breakfast at a diner near her apartment and he’d bring her a new bouquet of flowers to put in the cute bay window of her apartment she always decorated nice.
But the past couple months while the mess with Amy and the people after her went down Frank was MIA. He hadn’t planned on it, hadn’t meant to be, but he didn’t want to risk Bambi getting pulled into his bullshit. He already had enough people he cared about involved in his mess. And if he was honest he had been depressed after sending Amy off for that marine life crap she wanted to do, but they talked on the phone at least every other week to catch up. He felt like he was getting parts of himself back, that part of his heart that had been vacant since the death of his kids was now occupied by Amy, and the part of his heart that had been reserved for Maria had now been taken over by Bambi.
Frank and Bambi had tried to keep their… friendship… if that was the right word for it, a secret from Matt. Bambi figured Matt would freak out on both of them then there would be some big fight between the two men which was the last thing Bambi wanted. But, when Matt found a shell casing at the scene of Hector Ayala’s murder he knew he had to get Frank’s help, so he brought Bambi to soften Frank’s resolve.
The two were already fighting by the time Bambi got there. She was waiting around the corner from Frank’s apartment door to see if the two could have a mature conversation like adults, but they were already shouting and Frank was throwing a cup across the floor, so Bambi stepped into his apartment which was more like a bomb shelter. She’d been here a couples times, even had a movie night with Frank once and fell asleep leaned against his side on his shitty couch. She knew if she had Frank over to her apartment Matt had a better chance of smelling him on her, so they spent more time at Frank’s place.
Bambi had stepped in right as Frank was shouting ‘I do not have time for your candy ass hero shit’ while smacking his hands together. Right as she stepped into the room Frank’s back straightened from his crouched position, sitting up straighter in his seat. He hadn’t expected Matt to bring Bambi, hell he thought he’d keep her as far away from him as possible. Yet here she was. Soft, curvy, cute little body tucked in a cozy sweater with her glasses and short skirt that showed a little too much of legs for his liking. He didn’t like the idea of other shit heads out there gawking at her.
If he’d known she was gonna be here he would’ve shaved, fixed his hair, tidied up the place a bit. Frank never cared much about his appearance normally, but he felt like a dumbass teenager half the time when it came to her, bending over backwards to please her. He felt ridiculous sometimes but couldn’t shake it.
“Hey there, sunshine,” Frank mutters, his voice still low and gravelly as if trying to keep his tough guy persona since Matt was here. Matt’s jaw clenched, scoffing slightly with a shake of his head. He’d likely heard the way Frank’s heart starting pounding in his chest like a drum. He hadn’t seen Bambi in months, he felt like some tweaker going through withdrawal without her.
“Hi,” she says softly, shifting on her feet awkwardly, her Mary Jane shoes clicking against the cement floor, “Matt just wants to know if you know anything about these guys that can help. Please.”
Frank shifted restlessly in his chair, his trigger finger tapping against his thigh as he looked over at Matt, “That your new technique? Bring her here just so I’ll play nice?” Frank scoffs, glancing down at his lap, “Losin’ your touch, Red. The old you woulda just beat it outta me on a rooftop. You didn’t come here for my help,” Frank says flatly, leaning back in his chair. Bambi couldn’t help the way her eyes drifted over him. He looked good. Really, really good. That shirt he wore clung to his muscles like a second skin and she oddly liked the scruffy look he had going on, “See, I think you want my permission.”
Matt chuckled under his breath with another shake of his head before straightening up, “Bambi, why don’t you wait outside.”
“She ain’t gotta go nowhere,” Frank grumbles with a shake of his head, getting up from his seat to stalk over to Matt, “You wanna get your hands on somebody, wanna hurt ‘em, and it scares you. Worried it’ll scare your baby sister from how much it’s eatin’ at you. That guilt, that rage. I see it in you.”
“You’re way off, Frank. I’m gonna come back another day, catch you at a better time,” Matt says with a strained smile, barely holding himself back from throwing a punch or crying. Possibly both. Matt turned on his heel, nodding his head towards Bambi, “C’mon, lets go.”
“I’m gonna stay a minute then head home,” Bambi stays rooted in place a few steps from Frank who was fiddling absentmindedly with the belt loops of his pants. Matt clenched his jaw with a long exhale, not loving the idea of Bambi being alone with Frank, but he muttered an ‘okay’ and left the apartment. Once Matt was gone she turned toward Frank with a sour expression, “Why do you always have to rub salt in the wound with him? Why can’t you just help?”
Frank scoffed, walking over to where he’d thrown his mug across the room to pick it back up, “Your brother’s a big boy, he don’t need my help,” Frank says simply as he walked over to the kitchen area of his bunker-like apartment, “Not my problem.”
“Then what is your problem?” Bambi asks with a tilt of her head as she crossed her arms, “Going after random guys you’ve never met?”
Frank tossed his cup into the sink with a sharp exhale through his nose, leaning against the counter and tucking his thumbs in the front pockets of his pants as he turned to stare her down, “If I don’t do what I do good people like you will be the ones with a bullet in the head. That’s my problem, that’s what I take care of. I take care of the scum bags that would look at a girl like you and see an object, somethin’ easy to use however they feel like it. Your brother should be happy I’m out there on the streets, least I’m helpin’ keep you safe.”
“You should try to start over, start building a good life for yourself,” she sighs exasperatedly, and Frank only looks down at his feet with a clenched jaw, “I’m not your problem to keep safe, Frank,” Bambi says softly, which make Frank’s head snap up.
“The hell you ain't,” Frank grumbles, pushing off the counter to stand straighter, “Why do you think I do those movie nights and buy you breakfast and flowers every week? Think I do that shit with everyone I meet?” Frank snaps with a scoff. Bambi shifts on her feet, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater, unsure of what to say, “I don’t know if you noticed but I don’t kiss your brother’s ass or talk all sweet with him. Just with you.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say… you’ve barely spoken to me in months I thought you-” she trails off, her hands moving as she spoke.
“Thought I was done with you?” Frank asks with a sharp chuckle, like the idea was absurd, “You’re not something I can just quit, sweetheart. I don’t clock in and clock out with how I feel about you, that shit's permanent, not goin’ anywhere.”
Bambi took a step closer, “Then where were you? I was worried something happened to you.” she asks curiously, hesitantly.
“Met this kid, had all these people comin’ after her and tryin’ to kill her. I got rid of the assholes targeting her, made sure she was safe and sent her on her way. Then I came back home to you,” Frank shrugs, his fingers rubbing the fabric of his pants, a nervous tick of his that seemed to happen when he felt vulnerable, “Came right back here to you.”
“You didn’t call or anything,” Bambi counters with furrowed eyebrows, standing only a couple feet away from him now.
Frank sighs, scratching the back of his neck, “Me and the kid got close. She reminded me of Lisa. Sending her off wasn’t easy, had to lick my wounds.” he mutters with a self deprecating chuckle, “Swear to god sweetheart, the minute you walked into my life you turned me into a goddamn softie.” he laughs, which made a smile tug at Bambi’s lips.
“Is that supposed to be a bad thing? Caring about people?” she asks as she leaned against the meager dining table beside the counter, “I don’t think it is. I think it’s progress, means your healing.”
Frank rolled his shoulders with a sigh, licking his lips, “Me carin’ about someone isn’t simple, makes me ugly. Cause I know if somethin’ ever happened to you I wouldn’t be gentle about it,” Frank says lowly, that familiar hungry, possessive part of him flaring up in his chest, “You think I’m hard on guys I’ve never met? Imagine what I’d do if one of those scum bags tried to hurt you. Wouldn’t be pretty.”
Bambi couldn’t ignore the way her stomach did a flip. Whenever he acted protective over her like that it did something to her, like the time a few frat guys she’d known back in college saw her at the diner and picked on her in front of Frank so he’d broken the ring leaders wrist as a ‘warning’. She had thought about it for weeks. It was hot, she couldn’t deny it. And he knew she thought it was hot. He’d seen it in her eyes when they left there.
“Or… we can care about people and not kill people for hurting their feelings,” Bambi suggests with an awkward chuckle, her cheeks turning red despite her attempts at fighting off the butterflies forming in her tummy.
Frank didn’t blink, “Ain’t how that works with me.” he mutters flatly, staring at Bambi like he was daring her to disagree with him, like if she did he’d track the last person to hurt her feelings down and beat them within an inch of her life just to prove his point, “Don’t give me that goody-goody bullshit, honey. I know it don’t bother you the way you’re pretendin’ it would,” Frank tilted his head, looking her up and down as he stayed leaning against the counter, “C’mere.” Bambi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her fingers toying with the sleeves her sweater as she stepped over to him until he was towering over her, “S’been months since I’ve seen you, ain’t got the willpower anymore to pretend I don’t want you right now.” Frank murmurs, lifting a hand to cradle the back of her neck so she couldn’t look away from him. His hand was so big, so warm against her skin, it made her dizzy, “You want me, baby? Or you gonna keep pretendin’ the thought of me protectin’ you like that doesn’t turn you on?”
Bambi exhaled shakily through her nose, her eyes flickering over his face like the two years of yearning and longing for him were bubbling over in her heart and she couldn’t fight it anymore, “Not gonna play pretend.” she gives a little shake of her head, absentmindedly standing on her tiptoes to reach his lips easier.
“That’s what I thought,” Frank murmured under his breath as he leaned down to capture her mouth in a kiss. It wasn’t gentle, it was hungry and desperate to where it drew a low groan from the back of his throat as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Frank’s other hand slid down her side, giving the soft flesh of her hips a squeeze through her skirt which made him groan again, “C’mere baby.” he murmurs against his lips as he slid his hands down beneath her thighs to pick her up and set her on the counter.
Bambi’s glasses knocked against his face as he kissed her again, his hands squeezing her hips to keep her pressed against him. Frank made a little sound of annoyance, reaching up to take them off, setting them on the counter with a gentleness he hardly showed anyone else before pulling her back into a hungry kiss. Bambi whimpered softly, her hands fisting his shirt as his hand slid up to cradle the back of her head.
“Been wantin’ you for two fuckin’ years,” he growls against her lips, rutting subtly against the juncture between her thighs, “And you say you’re not my problem? Ain’t like you to sound so stupid, not my girl. You’re too smart for that shit.” he mutters before kissing her again, her thighs lifting to tangle around his hips which made her skirt bunch up around hers, “My pretty girl’s so fuckin’ smart, best girl in the world, huh?” he pants as he sucked her lower lip between his, drawing out a dazed moan from Bambi. She felt utterly surrounded by him, utterly drunk on him as she let her head fall back against the kitchen cupboard.
“Can I take your clothes off, baby? Been dyin’ to,” Frank pleads, giving her thighs a firm squeeze as Bambi managed a jerky nod and breathy moan. Frank didn’t waste any time, pulling her off the counter to carry her over to his shitty queen bed shoved in the corner, all he could focus on was Bambi. Frank kicked off his boots after he laid her down, leaving her sprawled on his bed with a heaving chest and skirt bunched around her hips so her panties peeked out from beneath them. Frank was breathing heavier too, reaching down to unbuckle his pants to relieve the pressure on the obvious bulge in his pants before dropping to his knees beside the edge of the bed.
He grabbed her calves, tugging her until her bottom hung off the edge of the bed, “Let’s get this shit off you, honey,” he murmurs, almost to himself as he tugged her skirt off with the help of Bambi lifting her hips for him. Once those were off Frank tugged her even closer by the thighs until his nose and lips smooshed against her panty covered core. He groaned obscenely, tossing her legs over his shoulders as he placed open mouthed kisses to the damp fabric. He felt like a wolf in heat or like he’d been injected with some damned aphrodisiac, but no. It was just two years of fantasizing about himself in this very position, right on the bed he used to fuck his fist in at the thought of her.
“Smell so good, baby,” he all but purrs, placing a kiss to the outer edge of her panties where a bit of slick had slipped out. He licked it up with a moan before sucking a hickey onto the inside of her thigh right where it had been. His fingers slipped between the waistband of her panties to tug them down her legs, tossing them onto his pillow once they were off. He wanted them for a later day.
He exhaled roughly through his nose once she was bare in front of him, grasping her thigh to shove them further apart to get a better look at her. “Frank,” Bambi whines with a bashful chuckle, growing a bit embarrassed by him just staring at her pussy.
“What?” Frank asks with feigned innocence as he leaned in to lick her dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue. Bambi’s hips jerked with a sound that was a mix of a gasp in a moan, the action wiping the bashful expression off her face. Frank hummed in satisfaction, licking his lips as he parted her folds more with his thumbs, looking at her cunt like it was his last meal, “That’s what I’ve been wantin’, baby.” Frank murmurs as he closed his mouth over her center, slipping his tongue into her entrance without warning. Bambi’s thighs squeezed around his head with a startled sound, but quickly went slack as he started to pump his tongue in and out slowly as if he was savoring it.
Frank wasn’t sure how long he stayed down there. Could’ve been two minutes or two hours, he didn’t care. He was pussy drunk. Once her legs where shaking and hips jerking with desperate whimpers he finally let up, licking his lips like a starving man while rising to his feet to shove his pants and briefs down, then tug his shirt over his head.
“Wanna keep goin’, sweetheart?” Frank asks as he hovered over her, leaving enough room between them so she wouldn’t feel pressured to say yes. Bambi nodded with an eager ‘yes’, spreading her legs as far as they could go. Frank chuckled lowly from her eagerness, reaching up to tug her sweater up over her tits, and to his delight she wasn’t wearing a bra, “Oh baby.” he moans at the sight, leaning down to place a kiss to each of her nipples, “Shoulda known my girl would have such pretty little tits. Gonna look so fuckin’ good when they’re bouncing for me.” he murmurs, taking a moment to suckle on her nipple with a low moan before pulling back to tug her sweater off the rest of the way.
Once she was completely naked beneath him he sat up to look her over. Noting her blown out pupils, pink lips, heaving breasts, that soft tummy with wide hips, her puffy folds and swollen clit, then down to her luscious thighs. God, she was like his own personal wet dream, “Goddamn little girl…” he sighs in adoration as he leaned back down over her, grasping his cock to guide it inside her. He couldn’t resist glancing down to watch and neither could Bambi, lifting her head off the pillow to watch his tip get swallowed up by her swollen pussy. His jaw clenched with a guttural groan as he eased into her, stopping halfway through to give a few half thrusts to coat himself in her arousal better before easing the rest of the way in.
Bambi whimpered from the stretch of him, he was big. The perfect combination of length and girth that made her eyes want to cross, “That good, huh?” Frank teases with a cocky smirk as he looked down at her, though he couldn’t mask the adoration and reverence in his gaze, “Prettiest pussy in the world baby, knew it’d feel like heaven.” he says breathily as he set a steady rhythm, his hips smacking against the back of her thighs with each thrusts. His eyes stayed glued on her face as her eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure and her mouth dropped open with a shaky moan, “Look at me.” Frank rasps, grasping her jaw to force her to look back up at him, muttering ‘there’s my pretty girl’ once she peeled her eyes back open, “Feels so fuckin’ good, baby.” he says breathlessly with a little shake of his head in disbelief. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt to fuck, and Bambi somehow felt even better than what he remembered.
Frank planted a hand on her lower belly, pressing just enough to make her squeeze around him with a whimper as the other hand wrapped loosely around her throat. He wouldn’t choke her, wouldn’t risk hurting her or scaring her, but he wanted her to feel him there. Bambi could barely keep her eyes on him, eyelids droopy and mouth fallen open with a high pitched mewl that came with each snap of his hips. Frank was devouring the sight of her, that dazed, needy look she was giving him was the best thing he’d ever seen, “So fuckin’ beautiful like this. All sweet for me. Takin’ it like a good girl, huh?” he pants as Bambi gave a little nod in response, “That’s right, takin’ it so good for me, so proud’a you.”
Frank’s words had Bambi keening, her thighs beginning to shake around his hips. Frank practically growled, fucking her harder until the bed's shitty bed frame began to knock against the wall, “Frankie.” she sobs softly, barely able to get his name out between her endless string of moans.
“Right here baby, I got you,” he rasps, leaning back until he was kneeling between her legs. He grasped her hips to lift her slightly as he began to pound back into her. His eyes were glued on her, drifting from her face, to her bouncing tits and tummy, then down to where he was fucking into her. She was soaked, his cock was coated in her and dripping down his balls. It was pure fucking heaven. Bambi’s eyes rolled back, her hands flying to grip onto the sheets as she came undone with a broken cry.
Frank clenched his jaw with a groan, fighting with all his might to hold back his own climax so he could give her another, but after so long without sex he couldn’t hold it back. He shuddered with a choked moan, his grip on her hips nearly slipping as he shoved her firmly against his pelvis so he could reach as deep as possible as he emptied himself in her. The feeling of her warm, gummy walls clenching around him drew out the slightest whimper he tried to suppress but she felt too fucking good, milking him like a pro.
“Fuck baby,” he mutters roughly, pulling back just enough to give another rough slam of his hips into hers as the last of his climax washed over him. He slid out slightly, enjoying the sight of their sticky white cum coating his cock before he carefully pulled out the rest of the way, quickly catching his release with his thumb to push it back into her. Bambi’s thighs jerked from the overstimulation, she was still a breathless puddle on the bed, “Easy, sweetheart. Not lettin’ that go to waste.” Once he was satisfied his cum would stay inside her he reached blindly for his shirt off the floor to gently wipe her swollen folds, “There,” he murmurs once he was done, placing a fleeting kiss to her puffy clit before crawling up the bed to lay beside her.
Bambi instantly snuggled into him, utterly spent with her body turned to jelly as she plopped half on top of him. Frank chuckled under his breath, one hand cradling the back of her head and the other resting on her hip, “Get some sleep, honey. Did so good f’me.” he says softly as he placed a lingering kiss to her temple then nuzzled his nose there as he tried to let himself sleep as well. He hadn’t slept good since the last time he saw her, but tonight he was going to sleep like a rock with his angel in his arms.
You and Frank get into a situation that only a man like him can get you out of; but not unscathed. You clean him up, let him yell at you, and get up to things that will definitely pop some of those stitches.
notes ; aaaannngggrrrryyyy and PROTECTIVE fraannkkkk 🤤 also hurt and comfort if you squint!! Frank can’t really let himself be taken care of
Word count; 4k
There’s some things you can only know from experience, right? Words can’t do the trick all the time. So, there was no way for you to know, not until you were actually crouched behind a decrepit office desk hiding from gunfire, that attachment-suppressed bullets whizzing above your head sounded like birds whistling in distant cottonwood boughs.
Sure, you could’ve asked the man currently slamming a new magazine into his rifle, gritting his teeth with the pain of moving an injured rotator cuff. But Frank would just shrug and say that he didn’t pay that much attention to similes when he was trying to not get a bullet through the eye. You would never know if you weren’t right here, right now.
You clutch a handgun you normally keep in your purse between sweaty palms, not even aware of how blown wide your eyes are, or how much your chest heaves, blinded by adrenaline. You glance quickly at Frank, then throw your head over your other shower and moving to peek around the metal desk— your nose doesn’t get past the corner before a large hand grabs you tight around the upper arm and pulls you to him with a force that very well throws you against his chest before you scramble upright. “I was just—“
“Well don’t,” Frank grunts, voice harsher than he’s ever directed at you. It doesn’t faze you, considering the situation; he’s only being protective. You watch him peek over the desktop and, with a militarized precision, unload a clip of bullets in seven bursts into seven targets.
someone rounds the corner that you were meant to be covering, you lift your iron and it happens too fast for you to register what bullet left which gun, and who first, all you know is that he’s crumpling like a refused ragdoll and Frank is groaning like even the sound is hurting him to choke out. You whirl, horrified to see him clutching at his abdomen and clenching his teeth. “Oh my— Frank—“
“S’fine,” Frank grits. With his right hand he pushes down on the bullet wound, wincing and twisting to peek his eye and his rifle around the desk. Whiz, sshh, pop-pop-pop. More groans of pain, and sounds of heavy bodies hitting the floor. He meets your eye once again, his own chestnut ones filled with a firmness. He says your name like an owner trying to still a frightened dog on the 4th of July. “Stay calm. Okay? It’s nothing.” You nod hurriedly, swallowing a rock in your throat. “Hey, hey. Listen to me. You’re gonna—“ Frank glances down at his hand, you have to look away to keep from getting dizzy. You stay busy by peeking over your cover, but either way you can still see the crimson coating his palm as he peels it away from the fresh wound. “— Listen. You know this office, right? Yeah?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” You breathe, managing to clip a shooter in the shoulder. You have to duck before he unloads a round into your skull, the bullets land in the wallpaper behind you and Frank instead.
“Attagirl, you got it,” Frank grits beside you, quietly as he grimaces down at his stomach. It doesn’t feel like you got it, not even a little bit. You screw your eyes shut. Suddenly, this felt much realer. You couldn’t convince yourself that this gunfight was happening to someone else, and you could watch from outside of your body. You were stuck in your own workplace, impeccably caught in a trap where you and Frank had tried to retrieve important journalistic files from your desk.
“Wheres the fire escape?” Frank’s low timbre stays even, calm even as he shouts over the commotion of lead. You nod your chin ahead, to the right. “Alright. Listen to me, sweetheart, you gotta do what I tell you. Okay? When I tell you, too. Not a second after.” You nod again. Would he just get to the point? You heard him loud and clear, even though your gaze was too jaunty and nervous to stay on him for long.
“I’m gonna creep up, clear out the cubicle. You’re gonna stay exactly here, got it? You cover me. Don’t. Move. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Frank, I fucking got it! I hear you!” Frank grunts, eyes a little wide but you think there’s a ghost of a smile at the edges of his lips. You watch him step out from behind your cover, you peek above the desk yourself and keep your handgun aimed at the corners ahead of him. A man stands up from behind another cubicle, ironically from a good work-friend’s desk, but Frank downs him before you can even react. In fact, he clears most of the bullpen like this; fast, efficient, with a military-accuracy. Almost mechanically deadly.
Its almost like he can’t miss, can’t be hit. Like he’s invincible. Until he isn’t.
A gruff shout of pain rips from Frank and you feel your heart jump into your throat as you realize that the shot has whizzed just past his head. For an instant, you’re almost ready to mourn. A bullet from your gun lands into the shoulder of the shooter at the same moment as one of Frank’s lands in his forehead. His hand flies to his ear, and the way his fingers flex against his cropped hair while he advances forward makes your chest ache— so, you do what you do best, and disobey him.
You tread forward quick, low and with eyes scanning the newsroom like a driver twixt all three mirrors. You nearly collide with the firmness of Frank’s chest as he whirls, eyes wild and teeth gritted, “I fuckin’ told you to stay—“
“Yeah, yeah,” you huff, your man gives you a look like you’re in for it later. You swallow at that, but as he turns, his left, free hand flies to his lower back, palm towards you. You know it’s his best idea to keep you close to him, stop you from running off. You grasp onto his fingers and try not to let your stomach curdle so as you feel the slick blood over his callouses. It’s his injured arm, you try not to drag him down or back by it, instead covering his sides and back as he plows through bogeys. You hardly shoot thrice, and none of them are critical; Frank takes care of it for you.
You shout directions over the gunfire; right, left, forward, left, cut through. Frank follows your instructions with no more than a grunt of pain once or twice and a squeeze on your hand. You’re okay? You squeeze back. I’m okay. Eventually you make it to the fire escape, Frank pushing the window open with a low, gruffly-agonized groan of pain from his injured shoulder. You slip out onto the metal platform while he covers you, unloading the rest of his clip before following you.
“Go, go,” Frank commands, almost shepherding you towards the stairs down the fire escape. You listen without any complaints, your man a few steps behind as he constantly stops to check the levels above and below you. When you reach his truck he insists on driving, even though you insist he’s in no shape to— he just shoots you a hard stare, with a tight jaw, and you slip into the passengers seat.
꒰ა ໒꒱
Frank looks you over with a drawn brow and paranoid eyes as he closes the door to his bare apartment behind himself. Upon realizing you’re unscathed, save for a cut at your temple, he draws you close by the waist and lets out a little sigh. “You feel okay?” He mutters, tenderly for a man practically doused in blood. His thumb brushes some half-dried blood from your brow, his chin tilting to follow your eyes as you nod. A firm kiss is pushed into your hairline, Frank winces as he moves his wounded left arm to wrap a large hand around the back of your hair. “Good.”
“What about you?” You frown as he leans away, your hand fluttering with leftover adrenaline over the bullet wound on his abdomen. Frank grunts indifferently.
“Just.. grab me the first aid kit, could you, baby? Y’might.. Y’might have t’help me out.” The breathlessness in his rough voice gives away his pain as he stumbles to his piece-of-shit, peeling-leather couch. You know where to find the kit, a plain white box above the sink. When you turn, Frank has discarded his jacket, and he’s peeling his blood soaked shirt away from his stomach with a tight jaw and gritted teeth. The material must sting on the open wound, you think with a stomach-curdle. You rush over, dropping the first aid kit on the coffee table and helping your man pull his shirt over his head.
He grunts when he lifts his right arm, sighs heavy and exhausted when he lays back against the couch. While you work at opening the rifling through the kit, Frank lets his eyes fall closed, swallowing hard. “Sweetheart.” You hum in recognition.
“Y’gotta help me out, alright?” You look up from the box, furrowing your brows at the repetition but nodding as you whirl to snatch a nearly full bottle of whiskey off his counter. He wasn’t a drinker, your Frank, but he kept some around for special occasions. You grab a wash rag, too. “You’re gonna have t’stitch me up. I ain’t no leftie and my right won’t exactly cooperate.”
Just the idea makes you feel a little woozy. You weren’t so good when it came to blood. Maybe Frank can see the look of your face as you pour some whiskey onto the towel because he grumbles, “I wouldn’t ask if I thought y’couldn’t do it.” You hesitate with the rag over his bullet wound, but he nods, with his left hand over your knuckles he guides you to press it into him. His nose scrunches, two tight grunts leaving his pressed lips but he nods again when you search his face. “S’fine. You’re fine.”
“Does it hurt bad?”
Frank huffs a dry, humorless laugh. “Like fuckin’ hell, yeah. But I ain’t a rookie, ya know?” You dab gently at the wet blood on the surrounding skin, frowning. Clearly the joke didn’t go over well, you were so worried your stomach was fluttering. He grasps your other forearm holding yourself up on the couch cushion beside him. “Awh, c’mon. M’joking, c’mon, sweetheart, m’joking. I’m fine, don’t you worry.”
“How’s that arm?” Your brows draw, you scoot just a few inches closer, to where your right knee brushes his left. Frank eyes his rotator cuff warily, his lips curling downward in a shrug.
His lip curls as you brush the rag to a sensitive part of his stomach, though the alcohol doesn’t sting as bad anymore where it scrapes the open hole. “Not pretty. Nothin’ I can do but rest it, though.” Frank curls his fingers around your wrist. “Don’t try n’clean it yet. We gotta get the bullet out. That’ll just get it all dirty again, right?” There’s something smooth and sure about the way he directs you, like a teacher with his student. Using we instead of you, like this was some kind of team effort. You nod shakily, leaning over and rifling through the first aid kit for the large, medical grade tweezers he kept in there. To get to eye level with the wound you kneel beside his boots.
Your hand flutters with the tweezers, you swallow down a rock thats formed in your throat. Frank moves a strong, heavy hand to lay over your shoulder and you can smell the sharp, iron tang of blood on his fingers. “You got it. Don’t pay any attention t’me, just go for it.”
“Right.” You sigh, wincing as you push the tweezers into the dark, bloody pit. “Just go for it. Right.”
Frank’s hand squeezes around your collarbone, he lets out a subdued grunt. You mutter an apology, fumbling maybe more than you would if you actually had any experience. But eventually you get a grasp on the bullet, a cruelly, almost mockingly small piece of lead, shiny with blood. His blood. You feel a little nauseated, and a little relieved to clink the little bit onto the coffee table. It rolls an inch but you couldn’t be bothered to look. “Attagirl.”
Frank’s crown tips back against the couch cushions, a heavy breath parting his lips. When you look up from your task of wiping off the blood from his stomach, you’re met with drawn brows and screwed-shut eyes. What was he thinking about? Just the pain, or maybe he was wishing he could just do this himself? You weren’t exactly an expert, you think with a bit of regret at the fact you were so helpless when he was hurt like this.
“Y’did good,” a low voice snaps your eyes up to his again. Frank’s staring down at you, his head tilted a little on the cushion. “My tough girl, yeah? You’re a natural.” He says it so sincerely you could cry. Especially coupled with his hand moving to smooth your hair down. Maybe— well, definitely— he could see the uncertainty in your face.
You nod your head less to accept the compliment and more to shake off silly emotions, ones that didn’t have place in the make-shift ER you’ve made out of Frank’s living room. Wiping your bloodied hands on your pants you sigh, “What now?” Frank looks down at his lap, his lips curling downward in a shrug and you get up to sit beside him instead of at his boots.
“We could cauterize it, or stitch it.” The latter was terrifying, but the former? If the word meant what you vaguely remembered it to mean, then he was asking you to—
“I’m not sticking a hot iron into you, Frank!”
He lifts a hand, eyes falling shut as he cooes, “Okay, okay. No cauterizing. But that means y’gotta stitch it. You up for that?” You avert your eyes. Even the thought was daunting. He just isn’t having this, though, and he grasps your chin to gently get you to look at him. “Yeah? If you say no, I’ll figure—“
“Yes. Yeah. I can do it,” you nod firmly. Convincing yourself just as much as Frank. He grunts quietly, dark eyes searching your face and then the set of your shoulders when you turn back to the medicine kit. “It’s just.. like sewing, right?”
Frank’s laugh soothes you just a little. “Yeah, yeah. You ain’t wrong.” When you look up from threading the needle, the task so familiar it’s almost comforting, your man is grimacing down at the bullet hole and splaying his fingers to bracket it. He looks up at you with a squinty frown that makes you nervous. “Hand me the scissors.”
“What?”
“Gimme the scissors, gorgeous, c’mon.” Frank shakes his head dismissively, already holding his hand out. You push the cool metal of the scissors into his palm. The moment you see him bring the tool to the hole you look away, swallowing hard and fixating on the single magnet on the fridge. You gifted him it when you came home from a trip to Boston. Funny that he coveted it enough to actually decorate his barren apartment.
You hear no more than snipping and a heavy exhale. When you look back at Frank, the circular wound has been cut ever so slightly into an ellipse. Sloppy, sharp and, nauseatingly, oozing a little bit of new blood. He grabs that rag like it owes him money and mops up the crimson. “Okay. You know what t’do?”
“Not really.” You mutter, elbow resting on his thigh as you position yourself over the hole. Frank reaches his good arm over his head, grasping onto his cropped hair with tight fingers and a feathering jaw.
“Yeah, well. Y’got me t’micromanage, yeah?” You throw him a look just long enough to take in his faint smile. Trying to lighten the mood, not-so-successfully. But you guess that you prefer this over the lecture you know is coming, due to the stunt you pulled back at the office.
With the first stab of the needle under his skin, you don’t know what you were expecting, but it was definitely more than what actually happened. Frank didn’t groan in pain. You didn’t throw up. Blood didn’t pour from the bullet wound like a waterfall. Nothing happened, really, besides Frank nodding encouragingly as you pull the slightly hooked needle through.
“Was that good?” You mumble, embarrassed at how meek your voice comes out. Frank’s sounds steadier, and he’s the one getting stitched by a girl whose only experience is hemming her own jeans and tailoring a bra. His voice is tender, steady; just as he knows you need him to be right now.
“Mhm. Good job, baby girl. Doin’ good.” He swallows hard, taking in your gratified smile and murmuring, “Got great bedside manner, too.”
A comfortable silence falls over the two of you. You stitch and apologize, he grunts occasionally. You’ve been waiting for it so long that it doesn’t surprise you when Frank finally inhales with a purpose. He wouldn’t let your recklessness go without a lecture but not a moment sooner than you could handle.
As you fall into a neat routine, poking the needle through his tan skin and pulling the thread, Frank gathers his bearings enough to grumble, “What you did back there, it was reckless. And— and- and stupid. Y’know that?” He stammers in frustration, and a search for the right words. You press your lips in what you hope he can mistake for concentration, but he doesn’t. “Yeah?”
“I did what I thought I had to. You needed help.”
“No, you put yourself in immediate fire just ‘cause you think you can.” Frank shakes his head, when you glance up at him his eyes are squinted and brows tight. “I don’t know what, maybe you think that’chu can— can just not listen t’whatever I got to say, but I ain’t saying it t’hear my own voice, I’m saying it so you don’t get a bullet to the head. Do you understand me?” The muscles of his abdomen tense under your needlework as he raises his voice. His nostrils flare at a particularly painful poke under his skin and you blink away the faint stinging behind your eyes.
You know he’s not gonna let you not answer. “I understand you,” you mutter, though you aren’t very happy about it. He was a hard head, and a pain in the ass sometimes, but you guess that the feeling went both ways. He meant well, Frank. You knew he did. You could see the flashes of fear the light had been reflecting off his eyes when he looked you over for injuries. You could see it now, the affection in his eyes as the anger (which only reared its head at the prospect of you getting hurt) melted away.
His calloused palm comes to cup your cheek, and instinctively, you lean into it. You don’t take eyes off the stitches, though, tying the thread off with a subtle twitch of your lips. Only really noticeable to Frank. His voice is soft around the edges, gentle, raspy and nearly anxious as he apologizes like you knew he eventually would. “M’sorry. For getting mad. Okay? M’sorry. I love you— I love you. Y’just.. y’scared me, back there, that’s all. If you died, I don’t— I don’t know what I’d do, then.” Frank takes a deep, only-a-little-shaky breath through his nostrils, letting his dark, melted chocolate eyes dart over your soft features. “M’sorry for raising my voice, baby.” He could never stay mad at you for long. You nod, carefully. Accepting the apology. He never had before, and you knew he never wanted to again, but when it came to matters like this? Where he risked losing you? The anxiety manifested in anger, because it was the easiest way for him to deal with it.
He doesn’t make you say it’s okay. Frank just tries to lean up to meet you as you stand, eyes on your lips and brows furrowed in determination— you push a hand on his firm chest. He flops back against the couch without too much complaint, besides a comically wounded look on his face. “No moving.”
“Well, where you goin’?” Frank huffs, his roughened hand finding yours on his chest and grasping it. He tugs you down to his lap, you huff a soft laugh. “Huh?”
“I was gonna go clean up all… this.” You glance over your shoulder, grimacing at the ajar first aid kit and still-crimson bullet perched on the coffee table. Frank hums like none of that matters none.
“I’ll do it later,” he shrugs, a large palm smoothing over the dip of your waist. “Lemme thank you, doc.” You cock a brow at him, but despite yourself, you scratch your fingernails gently over the cropped hair of his nape.
“You’ll pop a stitch, Frank,” you remind. Another indifferent hum, and a little squint from him. His hand is warm when it dips under your shirt to splay over your bare skin.
“I got a live-in nurse, now, don’t I?”
“The hell you do!” You laugh, relishing in the grin Frank mirrors you with. It crinkles his eyes, changes his entire face. He was already a handsome man. But when he smiled? Christ. He shifts, you know that he’s trying get you underneath him, but you push on his chest again. Technically he could manhandle you, you aren’t exactly strong enough to actually subdue him. But he holds you gently, attentively. He stops the instant you even suggest he should.
“I’m not redoing these,” you insist, firmly. He nods a little, lifting his brows. “You stay put. Just sit back.”
“Yeah?” It’s just one, gravelly word, but it makes heat pool in your lower belly— which, mind, is up against his abdomen. Though, you’re very aware of the wound, leaning a little away from the stitches.
You nod, suddenly not trusting yourself to form words. His nose ghosts yours, you can smell the musky cologne mixed with sweat, and something else distinctly Frank on his skin as he pushes his lips firmly into yours. You’re not sure when your shirt got ripped off, or when your bra was discarded across the room, you only realize you’re half-naked when the other half is frustratingly tearing you away from his lips to stand up. He works at his own belt, albeit fumbling since he’s watching you undress instead of himself. You shrug off your jeans, tossing them aside. Frank reaches up his uninjured hand to tuck two fingers under the waistband of your panties and drag them down. “These new?” He mutters, watching your face with hunger in his brown eyes. You nod— of course he noticed them— and watch him throw his belt aside, to the other end of the couch. He lifts his hips and you help him drag down his pants just to the mid thigh, enough to reveal his already-pretty-stupid-obvious erection tenting his boxers. You reach to pull them down, greedily, but he grabs your wrist. “Wait. C’mere, first,” it comes out in a near growl.
You should’ve known he wouldn’t have given you what you wanted before some preparing. You slot yourself back in his lap, noses brushing. Frank kisses you one, twice, messily but not rushed. Never rushed, with him. After a minute he taps your side, a cue to sit up on your knees. Your hip rests against one side of his chest, injured arm resting above your ass and hand digging into your opposite hip as he snakes the other hand up the small space between you two. “Jesus, you’re wet,” Frank grumbles, you feel the words vibrate through his pectorals. You wrap an arm around his shoulders and let your eyes fall closed as his roughened fingertips spread your folds.
“Not my fault,” you murmur, your man turns his cheek and nestles a kiss between your breasts, which are at his eye level with the way you’re holding yourself up in his lap. “You look good when you’re angry.”
“That so?” A soft chuckle rumbles against your chest, and coupled with his thumb planting firm circles against your clit, you suddenly lose your train of thought. But something about his tone just compels you to nod anyway.
Before you know it, he’s pushing a thick finger into your entrance, to the last knuckle. You gasp, dropping your chin and laying your forehead against his crown. He hums smugly. “Ass,” you mutter, a little absentmindedly.
“Yours is nicer,” Frank quips and you grin, that hand squeezing his opposite shoulder pinching the skin. He chuckles again, his breath warm on your clavicle. Kisses are smattered along your neck, shoulders, breasts, adding to the bliss of a single digit pumping in your walls, curling into that gummy spot almost cruelly fast. Like he knew your pussy like the back of his own hand. By now, he might as well.
You sigh his name, Frank rewards you with another finger. He nips at the thin skin over your neck, absolutely sure to leave a mark in a spot nearly impossible to cover in August. Maybe that’s what he wants, you wonder as you lean away just enough to catch his lips in a kiss. It’s funny— you almost always have to reach up to kiss him. Here you were, making your man stretch up to reach you. “Christ, baby. You’re tight.” You whimper softly as he scissors his fingers, trying to stretch you and get rid of even the slightest chance of hurting you.
“I—I could take it.. M’ready,” you plead with him, eyes closed, but his were on your face. Frank hums thoughtfully. “I am!” You insist, huffing and puffing. His fingers fuck into that g-spot, you feel yourself nearing the edge, but you could almost shout in frustration, because it’s not what you want. Not what you need— that, is just a few inches under where you not-so-much hover over his hips, it’s more so that Frank is holding you up. “Come ooonn, Frankie, I want.. I want your cock.”
He pauses. That must’ve flipped a switch, because his fingers are slipping out of your heat and leaving you almost achingly empty. Your eyes flutter open just in time to see him licking his own fingers clean, a low, masculine grunt leaving him at the taste. You could’ve came just from that. But that’s not the main attraction, is it?
Frank shifts, in one precise motion shoves down his boxers. His cock springs out, slapping lightly against your inner thigh— when you look down, his fist is already around himself, but more importantly he’s almost painfully hard. Precome leaks from the flushed head already, and if this was any other time, if you weren’t pumped full of adrenaline from gunfights and stitching up a bullet wound, you would’ve leaped at the chance to kiss that leaky tip. But no, he’s already lining himself up with your puffy lips, and looking up at you so sweetly with those dark eyes. Beckoning you.
With a steeling inhale you lower yourself down onto him. It feels like the wind is being knock out of you, little by little, inch by inch, and even though Frank’s hands grip your hips and stop you from sitting yourself down right away, you’re taking it like a goddamn champ. When he bottoms out, and you’re fully perched in his lap, a soft moan leaves your lips. Answered by a low groan— a real, raw groan— from Frank. His good hand kneads the fat of your ass affectionately, his eyes practically shining when they meet yours. His head is tipped back against the couch cushions, brows pulled taut and jaw ajar. “Attagirl,” he mutters, his voice so deliciously gravelly you could feel yourself getting even wetter.
“Let me.. do the work. Please, you’re.. fuck, you’re hurt.” You breathe, and Frank would do just about anything you asked, say yes to anything you say when he’s inside you. So when you plant a hand in the center of his chest, he relaxes into the couch without any complaints. His hands remain on you, but when you eventually rock your hips over his length, his fingers don’t dig in as hard as he would’ve liked to. Letting you actually have the control— and god, the role reversal feels amazing.
He feels so heavy inside you, you never really register how huge Frank is until he’s actually inside you. And in this position, it just feels like he’s impaling you, splitting you open without even thrusting himself into your warmth. It takes everything, little to you know, for him to stay this still. You feel each drag of his cock, a large vein running along your walls and a slight curve pushing deep inside you. You try to keep a good tempo, using your hands on his chest for support, but it’s just so much more work than you’re used to when you two have sex. It’s always Frank being the boss, pulling the weight. While your brain is full of a hot fog, warmth spreading from your belly to your fingertips, you’re already a little shaky hardly a minute of quiet moans and panting later.
Frank noticed practically right away. He tightens his grip and guides you, leaning forward enough to nip and smatter open-mouth kisses across your neck. “God, Frankie..”
“Yeah? That feel good, pretty girl?” Frank’s fingertips dig into the fat of your hips, moving you on him at a steadier pace than your shaking legs could manage. So much for taking the lead. You can’t find it in you to get frustrated right now, though, too focused on the way the head of his cock kisses up against a gummy, perfectly receptive spot deeper than your fingers could ever reach.
You feel so indescribably full, stretched and forced open over and over again with each dragging pull on his thick length. You swear you can feel him rearranging your guts. Balancing yourself by leaning back with hands above his knees, you start bouncing on him in a way that makes the crown of his head tip back against the couch. But his eyes, the color of melted chocolate, heated with lust, they never leave your face.
A muscle in Frank’s jaw doesn’t feather, it clenches hard with the effort of drawing back his wounded arm to land a stinging smack onto your ass. Your reaction, a yelp that delves into a giggle, it’s completely worth it. “Frank!” You whine as he kneads the fat of your reddening asscheek with a large, calloused hand. He smiles lopsidedly up at you.
“Y’look so fuckin’ beautiful up there. Like a fuckin’ angel.” Frank praises, his hips beginning to meet yours, rocking up into you in a rhythm that could make you cry, but you plant both palms on his chest. A healed bullet wound divots the skin under your ring finger, a healed knife gash on the opposite hand’s thumb. The man underneath you was rugged with experience, aching with the weight of fighting for so long— a soldier. Now, though, all he had to be was your man.
You’re panting, so maybe that doesn’t help your case, but you tell him, “No moving, you’ll pop a stitch!” Frank very promptly pouts like a puppy caught with something in its mouth.
“C’mon, let me help you.” Frank mutters, his hand moving to splay over the cusp of your lower belly, his thumb rolling over your clit. “See? Your legs are shakin’, sweetheart. Let me take care a’you.” You scoff indignantly, though, you really are shaking like a leaf. He’s just so deep, and you can feel a prominent vein dragging along your inner walls each time you fuck yourself down over him, despite the fact that you’re so wet friction should theoretically be impossible. From experience? Its not.
“Just b-b’cause— oh, fuck- Frankie!” You take to babbling, falling against his broad chest in response to another, hard and unexpected spank to your ass. Coupled with the way his other hand pinches and rolls your sensitive button, your brain is going dumb. You hold yourself up by your forearms on his shoulders, hands fisting in his cropped hair as you try to find your rhythm again, rolling your hips desperately over his cock.
“Attagirl, you got it.” Low, gruff, affectionate. Frank stays mostly still, finally, not wanting to worry you and settling for digging his large hands into your hips and helping you move. Letting you take the lead, for once. You catch a grin flashing on Frank’s face before he dips his chin to plant an open-mouthed kiss to your breast.
His cock just feels so heavy, swollen inside you and slick with a mix of his precome and your juices as you try to sit up straight and pick up a good tempo. The sounds filling your living room are absolutely obscene; wet, loud, mingling with your soft moans. Somehow, Frank’s murmurs still cut through all the noise, “Miss independent, huh? Look at you, takin’ what y’need like a big girl. Yeah?” Somewhere in the dizzying hurtle towards your peak, Frank’s ended up with his hand lying gently over your throat, his thumb on the underside of your jaw. You know that he’s too scared of his own strength to squeeze, to choke you. But just the feeling of his heavy, rough palm and fingers over your pulse makes you weak.
“C’mere,” Frank grits after a moment, maybe the slow, sloppy pace you’re humping him at isn’t enough for him. His free arm wraps around your lower back, hand on your ass, as he quits guiding you and takes you roughly slamming you down his cock to the base.
You cry out at the only slightly changed angle as he relentlessly fucks into that elusive, spongey spot in your pussy that only he can ever reach, over, and over again. You’re pounded into a kind of perfect, overwhelmingly bliss that makes you dizzy. “O-oh my god!” He grunts in reply.
“I know, baby, I know. Doin’ so good for me.” Maybe he will end up popping a stitch anyway, but this is worth it. To have you crying in his lap, moaning like it’s all you know how to do anymore. You have no way of knowing what you do to Frank, how every detail of you makes him wanna act. He’s everywhere. He holds you tight and possessive, fucks you like he’s trying to leave a mold of his dick. Like he’s trying to make sure your pussy remembers him, because by now, she should.
But his hands, christ. his hand on your throat, it caresses you gentler than anything, calloused thumb brushing away a dribble of spit beginning to form at the corner of your lip. Those dark chocolate eyes, they watch you like you’re more profoundly beautiful, stroked with more meaning than any painting in the museums. They hold your eye until you can’t keep your own open anymore, lashes fluttering on a particularly sensitive drag of his cock through your walls.
You can feel that familiar knot coiling somewhere deep in your belly, and maybe Frank can see it (not maybe, this man could read you like a book,) on your face. It’s as if the moment you register in your fucked-dumb mind that you’re close, he removes the hand on your throat to roll your clit over his thumb. All the while, he’s cooing at you, talking in a strained, gentle yet deep and hungry voice.
“Doin’ so good, baby.”
“Takin’ it so well. I know s’alot, I know.”
“You like that? Yeah?”
Frank talks far too sweet for what he’s doing to you right now. His hand not working at your sensitive button is clutching the fat of your ass, moving you far up enough of his cock for just his leaky head to stay in your fluttery cunt, then drags you down to his base. A low groan leaves even Frank’s parted lips, his eyes slipping shut for a moment, and maybe it’s the sight of this rugged, hardened man blissed out and so relaxed from being inside you that really makes you teeter on the edge. Your fingernails claw at what little of his back you can get to, reddening his trap’ muscles as he puts in most of the effort to fuck you over his length. “F-Frank, I’m— I—“
“Sh, sh, sh, I know. I know, sweet girl, c’mon.” Frank full on growls the words in your ear, leaning up to you and letting one of his hands on your bottom drag up to your back to pull you against his chest. Landing another stinging smack onto your ass, he buries his nose into your neck and nips at the flesh over your pulse. Frank loosens his grip just enough to let you chase your orgasm on him.
You feel a thick, warm pressure building in your core, apart from his fat cock in you, mounting and mounting until it all falls apart; your vision blurs, a blinding white filling your brain as your hips stutter on him. You can’t even hear the scream you let out— but Frank does. Oh, god, he does. The one thing you can hear is his grunted, low, “Attagirl. Thas’it, thas’it,” You collapse into his chest but he doesn’t let you relax just yet. A few more (albeit gentler) punches against your cervix and he’s spilling heavy ropes of come up into you, groaning against the sweat-dampened skin of your collar.
You’re grateful for how tight his burly arms are clutching you, around your bottom and around your back, because otherwise you think you might melt away. You hide your face in the crook of his neck and relax into your man’s chest. He’s still inside you, softened and effectively plugging both yours and his come inside your fluttering cunt. Frank’s calloused fingertips gently stroke up and down your spine, he tilts his face to kiss the outer cusp of your shoulder. “You’re okay?” He mutters, voice gravelly and low, yet gentle as a man could get. You hum affirmatively but keep your nose to his Adam’s apple, breathing in his musk deeply. “Baby, hey. Look at me.”
With a soft sound you lift your face, and an amused smile spreads over Frank’s cheeks at your slow, owlish blink. His boba eyes shine with affection as he smooths a palm over your hip. “There she is. Pretty woman.” You give a little giggle, and he reaches up with his uninjured arm to cup your cheek, searches your face with a faint smile. “.. How inclined are you t’kill me if I say I might’ve popped a stitch?”
“Ugh, Frank!” You chastise, drawing out a laugh from him. You can’t stay mad at him, atleast not with his cock still inside you. With a little whimper you lift yourself off him, and Frank immediately moves to stand up, go find you a wet rag, a water bottle, maybe some chocolate; but you push him back down onto the couch with one hand on his chest. “You, sit down.” He pouts like you’ve wounded him, dark brows furrowing in confusion. “I’m gonna go grab a wet towel. You are gonna check your stitches, since you can’t just let me take the lead.”
“Says the woman whose legs woulda given out if I didn’t help,” Frank mutters. You shoot him a challenging look over your shoulder as you set out (to a mix of his pride and concern, stumbling with numb legs) for a rag. He watches you go, wearing a lazy smile and enjoying the view a few moments more, before unwrapping his wound dressings with a sigh and shake of his head. “.. Miss independent.”
✮ content. clark kent x reader. (david corenswet’s clark…). nsfw. oral. needy clark.
an. for my favorite oomfie :3
he started slow. always did with you. his mouth soft where it touched your thigh, lips dragging open-mouthed kisses along the inside until you shivered. you were already wet, already aching, but he took his time. he always took his time.
his tongue dragged up the seam of your pussy, unhurried, steady, and he moaned like he could taste how badly you needed it. you gasped. your hips lifted. he pressed you down gently with one hand on your stomach, breath hot against your cunt.
“you’re shaking,” he murmured, voice slightly rough with need.
then he licked you again. deeper this time. tongue slipping through your folds, mouth hot and wet as it worked over your clit. his nose pressed against you, his lips sucked and kissed and spread your slick with messy strokes.
when you moaned his name, he groaned into you.
“fuck—” he said, hips pressing down into the mattress like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. like your voice alone did something to him. he was rutting against the sheets now, soft and desperate.
“clark,” you whined, legs falling open wider. “oh my god, don’t stop—”
he didn’t. he kept going, licking through your slick like he needed it to breathe. then he spat. spread it with his thumb, thick and slow, rubbing circles over your clit while he licked lower again, tongue fucking into you until your thighs trembled.
“taste so good,” he whispered, sounding dazed. “can’t get enough.”
you cried out when he sucked your clit into his mouth again, harder this time. his teeth grazing your skin as your back arched. your hand gripped his hair and pulled, and he moaned loud into your cunt, grinding harder into the bed.
his hand moved from your stomach to between your legs. two fingers slid in easily, your pussy clenching around them right away.
“fuck, baby—” he breathed, voice cracking. “you’re dripping.”
his fingers curled inside you. your walls fluttered around them. the wet sounds were loud, your slick spreading over his hand as he fucked you slow and deep, all while keeping his mouth on your clit.
your orgasm came fast. your whole body tensed, legs shaking around his shoulders. you moaned his name again, voice catching as your head fell back, hips rocking through it.
he didn’t stop. his fingers still moved inside you, dragging it out, his tongue keeping pressure over your clit until your voice went breathless and your thighs shook.
“too much,” you whispered, panting. “clark, i—”
but he was groaning again. and then you felt it. the way his hips jerked against the mattress, the soft gasp against your cunt.
he came in his pants.
you froze for a second. then looked down at him. the tension in his shoulders, the blush creeping up his cheeks, his breath ragged.
“did you just…” your voice trailed off.
he looked up, still between your legs, face wet and flushed, a little stunned. “i—yeah. sorry. i couldn’t… you sounded so good.”
your heart kicked hard in your chest. you tugged him up by the front of his shirt and kissed him, messy and breathless. you tasted yourself on his tongue. he moaned into your mouth.
his jeans were soaked. you could feel the twitch of his cock under the wet denim, still hard, still aching.
“you’re fucking perfect,” you smiled softly, lips brushing his.
“wanna do it again,” he mumbled. “wanna make you come all night.”
tags: consensual “hidden” camera, reader is lowkey a bit of a perv and a tease!!! good for her, established relationship, voyeurism, exhibitionism, phone sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, hints of free use pleasure dom frank…. hehe, cowgirl position, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: happy ddba double release day and rest in peace to frankie’s sexy-hot beard… </3 been itching to write some frank for a long time now, so here’s whatever this is lol. i’m really excited to post this actually and would love to hear your thoughts if you give it a read!
w/c: 5.1k
he takes his painkillers dry. two straight down the hatch with barely a grimace, and he’s contemplating on taking a third when something flashes out of the corner of his eye. frank castle isn’t startled by much of anything anymore, but he does do a double take at the giant eyeball taking up the entire screen of his main desktop. it blinks owlishly and he chuckles, rattling the bottle of pills in a rough hand before dropping it back to the table and stalking his way over to the setup of monitors to his left.
“the hell you doin’, knucklehead?”
there’s no one around to hear him.
the grit in his voice is softened by an egregious amount of fondness, and there’s a slight tilt to his head when he sits, spreading his legs wide and bracing his forearms on his thighs. another blink, followed by a flutter of wispy eyelashes. you back away from the camera and your full face comes into frame like an eclipse.
the camera is a bit overkill even for him, but he’s apparently one hell of a pillowy, indulgent son of a bitch when it comes to you and that ridiculous pout of yours. you felt safer with him watching, you had told him. you always want him looking out for you even when he’s not around. so yeah, sue him. he installed the camera in your bedroom while you hung onto his shoulders and lightheartedly argued over the perfect placement for it.
his not-so-hidden camera sits right on top of your dresser, partially hidden by some fancy jewelry rack. it’s inconspicuous enough to go undetected unless you’re looking for it or know it’s there. and you remember its presence far too frequently for frank’s already dwindled sanity.
you’re sitting on the edge of your bed now, legs crossed at the knee as you recline back onto your palms.
“frankie,” you coo. you tilt your head and smile, something slow and pretty. frank kissed that same smile right off of your lips not even two nights ago, fucked it off of them and replaced it with whimpers of his name, cries of pleasure that only he knows how to pull out of you. “are you there?”
frank taps his foot.
he could play ball, but maybe he wants to make you work for it a little bit. you’d have called him by now if it was something serious, and besides, he can tell by the look on your face that you’re itching to play with him anyway. you’re the one with a camera blinking at you, but he’s the one who feels watched. a fish trapped in a bowl — there’s a finger tapping at the glass and rippling the water, but he still gulps at the surface for scraps of food.
he scrubs a hand through his beard when you turn yourself over on the bed and lay on your stomach. you’re a fucking tease is what you are, camera pointed right that pretty little ass of yours that’s clad in those panties you know he likes. black. lace. all that moving you’re doing has caused the fabric to catch between your cheeks, baring the globes of your ass to the camera.
frank’s eyes are nearly glazed over by the time his burner phone lights up from the corner of the table.
he taps his foot again, reaches over as it lights up with another notification.
pay attention to me
see something you like?
he scoffs, shakes his head lightly just as you turn your head to peer at the camera. frank watches you bring your phone to your ear, and his burner lights up with a call the very next second.
so much for making you work for it — frank picks up halfway through the second ring.
“ma’am?” he grunts.
“i’m horny!”
frank tugs the speaker away from his ear at your volume, eye squinting. he watches the words leave your lips from the video feed in front of him. it almost tugs a laugh out of him, your pitiful, forlorn face. spoiled damn rotten.
“hey, doll. missed your voice too, baby. yeah, i’m doin’ alright, you know me. just peachy. how was your day?”
you glower at him through the camera lens and he does chuckle then.
“i’m serious!” you whine, but there’s a laugh bubbling out of your mouth too. you scrub your hand over your face, rub at your eyes like exhaustion is nipping at your heels. you get all sweet for him when you’re tired. “‘ve been thinking about you all day.”
“that right?”
you hum, turning back over and lying flat on your back before scooting up the bed to rest on your pillow. the shirt you’re wearing has rucked up on your belly, baring the tender skin of your side. pretty fingers reach absentmindedly for the elastic hem of your panties, and frank nearly crushes his phone in his grip. his fingers twitch, itching for something other than his pill bottles, the triggers on his guns.
you don’t say anything else, but a pretty little grin tugs at the corner of your lips. your gaze locks on the camera, locks with his, and you curl your finger to beckon him. come here, come be with me, come love me.
your legs spread slowly then, and frank takes a deep breath through his nose that only serves to widen your sleepy grin. it isn’t until your fingers are brushing the gusset of your panties that frank speaks again, voice gritty like sandpaper.
“you wantin’ me to come take care’a that, sweetheart?”
a moan filters through his phone, something airy and light, sweet like sugar. he watches two of your fingers work slowly between your legs, dragging over sticky-wet fabric and making your thighs twitch. he always starts off touching you like that — slow at first, just enough for you to feel the pressure of his fingers and get you whining for them, hips bucking into his calloused hands in search of more.
“yes baby,” you croon. that fucking face. those fucking eyes. he’s nothing if not a puppet on a string. “come take care of me.”
it’s not like he needs much convincing. his jaw ticks when he grits his teeth, watching your toes curl into your bedsheets. a growl simmers low in his throat, and frank stands so abruptly that the chair he was previously seated in teeters and falls backwards to the floor. his heavy gaze lingers on the monitor; he drinks the sight of you in like you’re the only thing that could quench his never ending thirst, his very own flower in the desert. the only thing powerful enough to pull him away from his little slice of heaven is the sound of your breathing in his ear, those pleading whimpers that claw their way up from your throat to call for him.
“i’ll be right there.” a hoodie, he needs a hoodie. keys… the keys to his van are on the table, but frank has absolutely no concern for following the laws of the road right now. damn it all — he’ll walk instead. your place is close enough, and he’ll be able to listen to you a little while longer. “i’m on my way, sweetheart, you hear me? you just keep touchin’. you keep on touchin’ that perfect pussy and wait for me, yeah?”
long, echoing hallways and a bumpy elevator ride give way to a drizzling night outside. frank bullies the hood over his hair and keeps his head down, phone held tight to his ear as he walks with a purpose.
a slurred moan has him muttering curses under his breath, nearly slamming into someone walking the pavement in his haste to reach you.
“f- mm, yeah, frankie.” you sound like a fucking dream, voice so sweet and airy in his ear he swears he can feel the heat from it. a chill runs down his spine.
“yeah, what’s got you whimperin’, baby? you gotta tell me about it.”
he’s damning himself and he knows it. you say one word about your fingers anywhere near your cunt and he’ll be drooling by the time he unlocks your door, a dog to a bone. that doesn’t stop him from wanting to hear about it though — nothing can, not when you sound so beautiful in his ear, not when you’re touching yourself because you’ve been thinking about him.
“it’s- ah, frank. i’m- ‘m so fucking wet,” you mumble. your voice is muffled, almost like you’re covering your mouth with your hand. you’re not embarrassed, no. he’s wrapped around your finger and you know it; there’s no need to be embarrassed when he’s the one walking blocks to get to you all because he couldn’t trust himself on the road. you’re not embarrassed, you’re just shy. coy. you’re still playing with him. “feels so messy, it’s- oh my g-god, my clit’s so sensitive.”
“gonna get my mouth on it when i see you, how ‘bout that?” he can tell the moment your fingers pick up speed because your breathing stutters. frank licks his lips. “easy, easy. keep it slow, doll. atta girl, that’s right. that’s my fuckin’ girl. that’s what you want, yeah? i know that’s what you want, you want—” he quiets down as he walks through a straggling crowd loitering outside of some bar. if he shoulder checks an asshole who won’t get out of his way, that’s his business and his alone. “you want my mouth on that beautiful pussy ‘n i’m gonna give it to you. how ‘bout my fingers, huh? you want those too? my-”
“your cock!” you cry. the frantic edge to your voice makes frank’s pulse throb. all the fucking blood in his body is pooling in his dick. “all of- all of it, frank, please but- but, i want your cock. i’m so tired of just thinking about it, i want your cock inside me so bad, please.”
frank’s hold tightens on the phone. just one more turn, just one more corner, a locked door, and then he’s yours.
“ain’t gotta beg me for that, girl, you hear me?”
you don’t have to beg him for a damn thing, not when he’s ready and willing to give it to you.
the first sight of your door feels like crossing the finish line after a hard fought race, the trophy now just within his reach. he tries the knob first and finds it locked — good girl, that’s my smart fuckin’ girl. i’m right outside, comin’ to you, baby — and fishes the keys from his pants pocket with desperate hands. he’s so distracted by the sound of your labored breathing that it takes him more than one frustrating try to unlock your door.
it smells like home inside, sounds like it too, the creak of that one floorboard by the front door, the whir of your ceiling fan on high. frank takes a moment to lock your door back the way it was before he calls out to you.
“‘m here, doll. it’s me,” he says. it’s quiet, he doesn’t need to raise his voice for you to hear. his boots thud on the hardwood floor, phone still pressed to his ear in the hopes that he’ll hear even the tiniest of sounds from your sweet lips.
his steps slow when he reaches the hallway that leads to your bedroom. your breath hitches and he hears it through the burner, and he purses his lips to stop the grin from spreading across them. there’s another creaky floorboard right outside your bedroom door — frank steps there purposefully and hears you nearly squeal in his ear. it’s cute, one of the cutest sounds he’s ever heard you make. he wants to hear it again and again.
your door swings open and he pushes his way through, and there you are, laid out like a fucking feast and he’s a beggar. you drop the phone onto your pillow when you catch his eyes.
frank tilts his chin up. “what was’at noise you just made, huh?” no amount of posturing could stop the grin from slipping across his face now, not when you’re in front of him like this. you smile too, something giddy and with a tenderness that he hardly deserves. he locks his phone and puts it in his pocket.
“i’m- i’m excited,” you whisper, and god, if frank’s beating heart isn’t being ground to a pulp in his chest.
the need to touch your bare skin overruns almost all of his senses. frank shrugs the hoodie over his head and is met with the sight of your legs widening as soon as the garment hits the floor. he disrobes in front of you completely, keeping his eyes locked on yours all the while. you bite your lip; your fingers slip back underneath your sticky panties.
your bed dips when he presses his knee onto it, and he’s crawling between your legs with a growl.
frank kisses the bump of your hand in your panties. your scent is so strong, you’re so soaked for him that he can smell it. another kiss there, a second under your belly button before he’s rucking up your shirt and following its ascent with his lips until it’s pulled over your head. his beard is softer than his scruff was, but it still has you squirming under his ticklish attention. your empty hand finds his hair and combs through it.
“my pretty girl’s excited?” frank asks, his raspy voice muffled by your skin and fervent kisses.
“yes, please, i am. will you fuck me now? please?”
just a few minutes prior frank told you that you didn’t have to beg for him, but he sure does love the way that word sounds coming from your lips. his cock throbs where it drags against your comforter — it aches for you, kicks angrily at the mere thought of burying itself inside where you’re soft and gummy and warm, but he has something else to do first.
“made you a promise though, didn’t i?” frank licks between the valley of your breasts, pushes them together with calloused hands so those pretty mounds hug his bearded face. you nod, and he hums his approval. “that's right, promised my girl somethin’ good. you remember, sweetheart, yeah? tell me. you tell me so i can give it to you.”
you arch against his face and hug him to your breasts. frank feels rabid, pressing searing kisses to the heaving, sticky skin of your chest while you babble your way through a series of slurred whimpers. he can feel your hips working against his abdomen, the bump of your knuckles where your hand has come back to rest in your underwear.
“you said- oh, fuck, said you’d get your mouth on me. my pussy-! and your fingers, and- and your cock after, frankie, i really want it!”
“there she is. atta girl,” frank grits. he eases back down your stomach, sucks wet kisses into the soft skin until he reaches your parted thighs. the only thing keeping him from that tangy goodness between your legs is the soaked pair of panties you’re still wearing. the graze of his beard against the tender skin of your inner thigh makes you coo out something soft, and you curl into yourself at the feeling, only held at bay by the grip frank takes hold of on your thighs. “fuckin’ purrin’ for it.”
it doesn’t take long until frank is purring with you, not when your fingers slip from your panties and right into his mouth. his chest rumbles with it, brown eyes locked on yours in a heady gaze. now that he’s gotten his first taste, he won’t let up until his face is dripping with all you have to give him. the pads of your fingers are so soft against his tongue, pruny with how long you’ve been at it, and frank eases them from his mouth when he’s done lapping the taste from them, kissing the tips of your fingers and the palm of your hand when you cup his face. your thumb brushes the scabbing scar that’s sliced into the apple of his cheek.
he doesn’t deserve it. he hasn’t in a long time and probably never has in the first place. you touch him with a reverence that no one who has committed such sins deserves, but he basks in it like it’s the only thing that keeps him alive. his throat will tighten up if he really thinks about it, the backs of his eyes will start stinging, so he pushes it aside for the time being. he has a promise to keep.
the first touch of frank’s lips to the soaked center of your panties has him grunting something low. your voice takes the opposite route, high-pitched and whisper-quiet. it wakes something carnal in him and he digs in, opening his jaw and laving his tongue across the soaked lace. they’re tiny little things, your panties are, elastic digging deliciously into your lips and giving him just enough leeway to suck one into his mouth to tease you. he wants you bare though, wants to taste you without anything in the way.
“want these off now, sweetheart?” like he’s not the one chomping at the bit for a better taste. “you gonna let me get these off’a you?”
you raise your hips with a sweet yeah, frankie, and he tugs the lace down your hips, your legs, your ankles. the spread of your legs gives way to the most beautiful sight. you’re swollen with your need for him, honey-dipped and mouthwateringly pretty, with that sweet little clit peeking right up at him. he’s aching to kiss it, so he does, close-lipped and slow. you’re so sensitive to it that your legs snap shut around his ears. another groan from deep in his throat and he’s prying them apart, keeping you spread with rough hands as he finally opens his mouth and nestles your clit inside with a languid suck. frank bats his tongue against it gently, buries his face into you deeper and purses his lips to suck in those rhythmic little bursts he knows you love.
“oh my g-god,” you keen. your fucking teeth are chattering. shaky hands card through his hair, tugging tightly at the top to keep him close to you. “that feels so fucking good, please don’t stop, oh, frank, baby- please don’t stop doing that!”
it’s even better when your hips buck up to meet his mouth. he likes that, loves when you greedily take your pleasure from him just as generously as he gives it. you toss your head back onto the pillow when frank’s nose bumps your clit, a choked cry leaving your lips as you bring a hand from his hair to cup the hinge of his bearded jaw just to feel it working. frank follows when you lift your hips, guides your clit back into his mouth and laps at it sloppily before he starts that same rhythm up again. he mentioned something else earlier that you enthusiastically wanted, and your mouth drops open wide when a thick finger prods at the entrance of your needy hole at the same time his tongue works your clit.
“yes,” you grit through your teeth. a deep, shaky breath comes next, shaking the soft mounds of your breasts. “yesyesyes, yeah. more, i can- i can take more of you.”
he listens, helpless to. frank wets a second finger with a mix of your juices and his spit and slips it right inside with the other. even two of his fingers are a stretch, but you take him perfectly, smoothed over by how long you’ve been touching yourself and how lax he’s gotten you with his mouth. he curls his digits, searching for something he always finds so easily but makes sure to keep that unwavering attention on your swollen clit like you begged for. it draws a shout from your lips; your thighs quiver by his head.
“that your spot, sweetheart?” frank grins into you, flicks his tongue against you so good that your toes curl where they’re propped on his broad back. “you fuckin’ like it right there, huh?”
a frantic nod of your head. you’re almost going cross eyed trying to watch him pleasure you.
“iloveit! i love it, fu-uuck, mmph! love it, love you, i love you, frank, so much. i’m- i’m right there, i’m so fucking close, please don’t stop!”
he’s steady with you. the wet suction of his mouth paired with the rhythmic massaging of his fingers inside of your cunt pulls your orgasm right out of you. your back arches, you go completely silent until your body wracks with shivers, that’s when a broken cry finally leaves your lips. frank drinks it up just like he vowed to, moving with you when you curl in on yourself, dragging a hand up your back to keep you steady. you shiver again when he slips his fingers back out, when his pink lips press one last kiss to your pulsing clit. the fleeting tickle of his mustache has one of your legs kicking out on reflex.
frank kisses back up your body and all the way to your lips. he kisses the whimper from them, drinks it in and swallows it down to make it his own. the kiss is hot, wet, a mesh of teeth and tongue and heavy panting that makes for one hell of a hello kiss.
you part with a quiet smack. frank tips his forehead down to press it against yours. he can tell by the way you’re kneading at his shoulders that you want something, and all you have to do is say it.
“can i-?”
you don’t finish, trailing off with a bite to your lip that’s barely hiding your sated but ever growing smile.
“ain’t gettin’ shy on me now, doll, are you?” frank noses down your cheek, kisses your neck. “gotta tell me what you want so i can let you have it.”
he waits for a response but doesn’t get one, only leaning up onto his palms when you nudge at his shoulder. your smile widens — a slightly harder nudge, and frank finds himself on his back and blinking up at the ceiling fan. his eyes land on you the moment his head hits the pillow, his rough hands reach to cup your elbows when you swing your leg over his lap. he sits up then, adjusts himself against the headboard.
“yeah,” frank grunts. he doesn’t know where to look… your beautiful face, your heaving tits, the easy slide of your sopping cunt against his hard cock. he hisses when you lift up on your knees, and frank takes the hint to guide himself to the warm give of your hole. “yeah. that what you want? i know that’s what you fuckin’ want, been achin’ for it all day now. you take it then, hear that? you take what you need and you take it from me.”
it’s a long way down, but you take his dick like a fucking champ. always have. frank’s gentle grip on your elbows migrates to your hips to keep you steady. he looks at you with droopy eyes and watches you sink down on him until he’s snug inside and you’re filled to the brim.
“oh, fuck, it’s—” you shudder. your nipples are tightening prettily, pebbling up in your sensitivity, so he leans forward to suck one into his mouth while you adjust to his size. frank mouths branding kisses across your chest and gives the same attention to the other one. “—deep, ‘s deep, frankie.”
you lean back to prop a hand above his knee and leave the other on his chest. the first roll of your hips has you throwing your head back, and frank isn’t faring any better. he growls again, a snarl tugging at the corner of his lips as you grind your hips down on him.
“goddamn deep, yeah it is. you like it like that, huh? you want me deep...” frank smooths his hands down your hips and to your thighs. they rest there, thumbs caressing the skin gently while you find your rhythm. you’re an angel above him; it doesn’t get any better than this. your fingers dig into his leg when your hips pick up speed — the wet clap of your sweaty skin pairs nicely with the rhythmic knock of your headboard that’s already started to hit the wall. “that’s right. that’s right, sweetheart. you just- use it however you goddamn want. take all the time you fuckin’ need and enjoy yourself.”
you nod, and frank’s fingers cup the nape of your neck.
“i- yes, i am, i will frank, it’s— ah-! good, frankie, you feel so good, your cock feels so good.”
frank grits his teeth at that. he’s willing to bet you feel better to him than he does to you, your sweet body so damn soft and warm that he has to fight with himself to keep his own hips still so you can take things at your pace. he’ll get his own when you’re ready for it, but for now, he’ll sit still until you tell him otherwise.
the circling of your hips quickly gives way to something more carnal. your movements turn frantic, and you lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck so you can cling to him while you rut down onto his cock. frank wraps his own around you just as tight, trails his hands up and down your spine to show you that he’s there, he’s right there with you and he’s not going anywhere.
“good girl. that’s my good fuckin’ girl, takin’ what you need from me like that. you enjoyin’ it? enjoyin’ yourself, sweetheart?”
you breathe your answer into his lips, response bouncy and slurred with your desperate movements.
“yes, yes i- oh my god, i love it. you’re so good to me. i love using your cock, i- mm! a-ah, frankie, please, will you fuck me now?”
you’re tired, he can tell by the way your chest heaves and the whine that leaves your lips on every exhale. you’ve worked hard, now it’s his turn to give you what you want. frank slips down the bed with a raspy hang on tight, bending his knees and propping his feet on the mattress so that he can buck up into you. you cling to him with desperate hands; your fingers curl onto the skin of frank’s broad shoulders to hold yourself steady as his cock batters your sensitive, swollen cunt. frank curses through his teeth — your pussy clenches so tight when he fucks inside that he sees stars behind his eyelids.
you’re pressing sloppy kisses to his neck, lapping his dripping sweat up with a silky tongue. frank ducks his chin to look at you, and you raise yourself from his neck to keep eye contact with him just before you lean in for another kiss.
“you’re goddamn perfect, you know that?” he breathes against your lips. his beard tickles your chin when he speaks, but you press yourself closer to it instead of pulling away. his words make you shy — frank speaks with such a raw and intense honesty sometimes that you don’t know what to do with it — you lean your cheek against his, clutching him tighter with your hands. “eyes on me, sweetheart, yeah? i want those beautiful eyes on me. atta girl, just like that. fuckin’ perfect, you hear me?”
he can tell you want to respond, but you can’t, his dick feels too good that you’ve gone speechless for it. with your forehead pressed to his, he can see every expression on your precious face. the quiver of your chin, the crease between your brows, your jaw dropped open in a cry that’s stuck in your throat. he fucks it out of you until you’re keening into his mouth, and frank swallows it again, trapping your pleasure-stricken noises between an insistent tongue and surprisingly soft lips.
your eyes roll. your cunt flutters around him. you want to cum so fucking bad and he knows it. he’s not far behind, abs clenching with effort and the growing need to fill you up until you’re leaking.
“you want it so bad. just take it, take what you want,” frank grunts. “give it to me. you wanna let me have it? come on- come on… sweetest goddamn girl. there- oh, fuck, there you go, don’t you hold back from me.”
frank can feel you cumming, clenching on his aching cock like a vice and pulsing through your orgasm. he holds you tight; his arms wrapped around you so tightly that they’re the only thing that keeps you from shattering apart like broken glass. you curl into yourself again as best you can on top of him, and frank presses a kiss to your hair, your sweaty forehead. the world stops turning when your fingers skim his cheeks, a touch so loving that he’s helpless to follow any command you give him. he doesn’t hear you say it, not when his ears are ringing, but he feels them mouthed into his balmy skin — please cum inside of me — so what else can he do?
frank juts his jaw when he finally cums, breathes heavily through his crooked nose and presses his face to your neck with a choked groan. your hips roll languidly together until you’re both done, but frank keeps his face nestled into the warm crook of your neck even as he continues to soften inside of you and the aftershocks dissipate.
he slips out of you with a nasty noise, but you don’t burrow yourself into his side like he’s expecting. no, when frank pulls his face from your neck and cracks open a droopy eye, your back is arched, you’re presenting yourself for—
the camera on top of your dresser.
of course you are. frank hums something rumbly and watches as you reach behind yourself with one hand to spread your cheeks. his cum must be oozing from your hole by now, dripping slowly down to your clit and soon to be his thigh too. your head is angled towards the camera, and frank cups your nape again, cards his fingers through your hair. you’re biting that plump bottom lip of yours; all that’s doing is making him want to kiss you again. almost like you read his mind, you do just that, turning your head back towards him and leaning in to kiss his lips.
you pull away sooner than frank likes, turning your head once more to blow a kiss at the camera.
he chuckles. you kiss his chest, finally allowing yourself to throw a thigh over his and nestle yourself in the crook of his arm before he inevitably gets up to clean you off.
“what was’at for?” frank presses his own kiss to the top of your head.
“for you,” you say. “for tomorrow, when you watch that back — because i know you will!”
I love absolutely DISGUSTING Simon Riley.
CW : Pillow humping, pantie sniffing, cum eating, exhibitionism, spitting, sweat kink, photos during sex.
The amount of times you've come home only to find Simon fisting his cock while sniffing the panties you put in the laundry basket last night, or walking into your bedroom to find Simon humping your pillow.
He's disgusting. He's finger fucked you while driving to the nice Italian restaurant he was taking you to for date night, only to pull his hand from your panties after you came and suck on his fingers.
Or, the time you thought it could be a fun and new experience to go wine tasting with him. But in between every wine sample, Simon would shove his fingers into you and then put them in his mouth. Claiming he needed a 'palette cleanser'.
And spitting on you? Or in your mouth? Simon loves it. He loves holding your jaw in his hand to watch his saliva mix with yours and slide down the back of your throat. Spitting on your pussy definitely comes in at a close second, though.
Simon also loved when you came home from a jog, or the gym. All sweaty and craving a shower. Only to get pulled onto the couch so Simon could shove his nose anywhere he could.
"Simon! I'm gross, I need a shower!" you whined in protest as Simon began nosing at your crotch.
"'s how I like it, lovie. Pheromones or some shit" he growled against your clothed cunt. Your cheeks reddening in embarrassment and arousal when Simon purposefully loudened his sniffing.
You gave up long ago from trying to stop Simon taking photos of you during sex. The first time he did it, you yelped and protested.
"Don't worry love. The lads from work wanna see you. They won't spread it round. I trust these men with m'life" Simon growled as he snapped another photo of your cunt taking his cock.
But now you couldn't deny that you enjoyed it. The attention. The lingering looks when Simon had his team over for dinner. The messages Simon shows you of the boys begging for more photos of you. You suspected they were just as disgusting as he was.
also if you don't listen to the band ghost... what are you doing?
my masterlist
Fully convinced Sodo would be a clingy ass boyfriend. He would follow you around like a puppy. When he stands beside you his tail will curl around your ankle, keeping you close. He’s always touching you. Literally nonstop. Partially because he’s possessive but also just because he craves your touch all the damn time.
Also convinced this clingy behavior gets ten times worse before his rut. He’ll literally just lay between your legs with his nose nuzzled against your crotch as he purrs happily. He won’t even initiate anything, letting you scroll on your phone while he just breathes in the scent of you as his tail swishes happily.
But, don’t be fooled. Sodo may be obsessed with you, but he’s grumpy with everyone else. That’s mostly why he’s so clingy in public because he doesn’t want to be around anyone else, only you. He also doesn’t want the other ghouls getting too close to you cause he’s also possessive as FUCK. He doesn’t care who’s interacting with you, it could be one of his friends, he’d still snarl if they got too close to you.
if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below any of my posts or in my submissions!! (check here: about my blog to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)
when bambi accepted her bond with rhysand, a mating frenzy ensued (2,431 word count).
content warnings, mdni 18+
f!reader, bambi!oc, mate!rhysand, possessive!rhysand, oral (f. receiving), slight wing play, p in v, unprotected sex, rhysand is pussy drunk and obsessed with bambi, some primal mate stuff, this is basically what i wanted to happen in ACOMAF lol, let me know if i forgot anything x
my masterlist (the other parts to the fic this is based on is on here)
There was something oddly empowering about seeing the most powerful High Lord in existence with his face between your legs. There was little in Pyrinthian that could ever bring Rhysand to his knees voluntarily, but Bambi could bring him to his knees whenever she desired. She could ask him to kneel for no apparent reason and he’d do it instantly.
When Bambi offered him a freshly baked cupcake, accepting Rhysand as her mate, he ate it without hesitation. He practically inhaled the dessert, hardly taking the time to chew it. It could’ve been a moldy, rotting piece of food and he still would’ve eaten it without hesitation. He wanted Bambi, he would do anything to be hers. Hell, he’d eat a dead rat if she’d asked. He wouldn’t have cared.
Bambi moaned shakily as she looked down at Rhysand who was kneeling between her legs with his mouth working feverishly on her cunt. The tray of remaining cupcakes was forgotten on the dining table, the only dessert he wanted to taste was Bambi, who could barely stay on her feet. It was as if Rhysand miraculously knew exactly how she liked to be eaten out and all the sensitive places on her body, or maybe that was a perk of being mates. Perhaps your bodies just responded to each other perfectly because your bodies were created to appease the other.
Rhysand’s hair was a mess, strands falling in front of his eyes as he ate her out with fervor, her leg tossed over his shoulder and her panties resting beside him on the floor that he had ripped off of her with a snarl mere moments ago. He felt high, utterly drugged off the taste and smell of Bambi. His mate. His. Mate. She was addictive, perfect, beautiful, transcendent, and overall very tasty. The finest ambrosia. If he was told tomorrow his only source of sustenance to keep him alive was Bambi’s arousal he’d be happy as a lark. At least then he’d have an excuse to have his mouth between her legs three times a day. He wasn't sure if he could ever be out of arm's reach of Bambi again if he was honest.
"Oh Gods!" Bambi squeaked as Rhysand's tongue managed to find her g-spot and her legs gave out. Rhysand didn't miss a beat, backing her up so her lower back was pressed against the cupboards and he lifted her other leg over his shoulder. His hands cupped her bottom, keeping her positioned against his mouth. Bambi was taken aback by his ability to hold her up so effortlessly, but between his immense power and the mating frenzy beginning to wash over him, she supposed she shouldn't be shocked, "R-Rhys," Bambi tried to speak as she began to slip. Rhysand pulled his head back from between her thighs, his hair mussed and chin covered in her slick as he lifted her up and onto the counter.
He hadn't spoken a word since he accepted the cupcake. He had simply launched towards her, kissed her as if she was his only source of oxygen, and somehow ended up with his tongue inside her pussy.
Bambi looked down at him, panting heavily, as he lifted a finger and traced it through her slit. His pupils were blown, his purple eyes now nearly pitch black as he watched his finger move through the crevices of her pussy, "Rhys?" Bambi spoke breathily, as she looked down at him. His eyes finally lifted up to her face, the eyes that had looked so beautifully purple moments ago were now dark and hungry. Frenzied. For a moment she wondered if she had somehow accidentally poisoned Rhysand with the cupcake and he'd gone insane, but Azriel had once explained the mating frenzy to her before. So this must be it.
Rhysand had been so cheerful and lighthearted, happily assisting her in baking the cupcakes, but he hadn't known she had made them with the intent of accepting him as her mate. The easy smile on his face as he mixed the batter together had made her stomach flutter, now her stomach was doing wild backflips and somersaults as she looked at him.
"Yes, love?" Rhysand smirks as he looks up at her, pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss to her clit, making a show of suckling on the pearl. The look on his face made a shiver run down her spine, that and the purposeful graze of his canines against her sensitive folds.
"You... you look..." she murmurs breathlessly.
"In love?" he guesses, that damned smirk returning to his face as he placed another kiss on her clit.
"No, I don't..." she could hardly form words as she looked at him. He was so beautiful. She had always found him unmistakably attractive before, but now that the mating bond was accepted between both of them, he looked angelic to her and borderline ethereal. He was so. Fucking. Perfect.
"You don't have to think, or speak," Rhysand says huskily as he slowly rises to his feet. He rests both hands on the countertop beside her hips, his nose now nearly bumping against hers. Rhysand practically purred, his eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzled his nose against hers before leaning back only enough to meet her eyes, "My mate never has to lift a finger. Especially when I make love to her." Bambi exhaled shakily, feeling more slick seep out of her, and Rhysand smiled devilishly as if he could smell the new wave of arousal. Which he likely could. She once found Rhysand extremely intimidating, and not in a good way, but the way he currently had her caged in on the counter made her pussy throb.
Rhysand leaned even closer until his breath fanned against her ear, "I can smell you," he purred into her ear. She could hear the smile in his voice, "The second I step into this townhouse all I can smell is you," he groans, nuzzling his face against her neck, "And I love it."
"Mor always says she can smell you on me. The three of you," Bambi says with a tremor in her voice, unable to keep her tone steady from Rhysand's overwhelming presence, "She says it's annoying."
"It's not annoying," Rhysand practically moans, pressing himself firmly against her so the obvious bulge in his trousers pressed against her core, "You're gonna smell like me forever now," Rhysand pulls back so his nose nudges against hers, "I'm gonna fuck you for weeks straight and all you'll smell is me," he says lowly and an involuntary squeak escapes Bambi.
Cauldron save me, this is the most attractive man I've ever met. She thinks, and Rhysand smirks down at her.
Why thank you, little one. Rhysand answers back in her head and Bambi's cheeks turn deep red. She pressed her face against his chest, hiding the embarrassed flush painting her cheeks, causing Rhysand to groan. Any proximity to Bambi right now was enough to make him finish in his pants. But no, he needed to finish inside her. His precious little mate.
It seemed the frenzy was beginning to affect Bambi too as her hands snaked up to grip the front of his tunic and she nuzzled her nose against his neck to breathe in his scent with a submissive whimper. Rhysand sighed shakily, his eyes rolling back from the sound she made as a nearly ridiculous amount of precum leaked onto his briefs.
“Darling…” Rhysand mutters, his hand resting on her lower back as she snuggles against him with another little whimper. A blissful smile tugged at Rhysand’s lip with a disbelieving chuckle, he wanted this since the moment he met her. He wanted her to want him, truly want him. He wanted her to be dependent on him and needy. He wanted this sweet little angel to be utterly desperate for him. He didn’t want to be alone in his struggle, his cravings, “Hold on for a moment, sweetheart,” Rhysand soothed as he began to unbutton his tunic.
Bambi's eyes had begun to well with tears of desperation, her body screaming at her to be one with her mate. To have his seed inside her. Bambi’s lips parted with a breath of admiration as she smoothed her hands over his chest and abdomen, her pupils now blown out as well. It made Rhysand’s smile grow. She was always so shy, which he always found adorable, but she was even more adorable like this. All wide-eyed and horny.
Bambi was so distracted by the tattoos spanning across Rhysand’s chest she hardly noticed his wings appearing behind him. She made a sound of surprise as she finally noticed his large wings draping down his back. He only showed her his wings once. She practically cooed in delight, reaching out to caress his left wing and Rhysand inhaled sharply, his hand gripping the countertop so tightly it cracked.
“Darling… save the wing play for when I’m inside you,” Rhysand gritted out as he lifted Bambi up and her legs wrapped around his waist. She nuzzled her nose against his neck with a contented purr as he carried her to his bedroom.
“You smell good,” she hums happily and it brings a grin to Rhysand’s face. He liked seeing her like this, relaxed, affectionate, and needy. He always wanted her to be needy for him. He never considered himself a needy lover before, but he found himself bending over backward just to get Bambi to look at him or smile at him. He craved her attention and touch above all else.
Rhysand passed Cassian in the hallway, whose eyes immediately went dark as he smelled Bambi's arousal. None of them had fucked her yet, they were taking things slowly until she was sure she wanted to theirs. So, even a whiff of Bambi's slick was enough to make Cassian's mouth water. Rhysand snarled at him with a growl, quickly carrying her into his room and kicking the door shut behind him. Cassian reigned himself in, knowing he'd have his chance with Bambi eventually.
Rhysand laid Bambi down on his bed and he immediately followed, hovering over her with his wings flared protectively as if he was keeping her safe from Cassian's possible advances. Rhysand could feel the delirium washing over him, that animalistic desire to keep all other males away from Bambi, even Cassian, and Azriel. He couldn't think rationally, his mind wouldn't accept the knowledge that they were her mates as well, right now at this moment Bambi was only his.
Bambi made that adorable whimper again and it nearly brought Rhysand to his knees, his wings twitching in a mix of arousal and affection. His breathing was ragged, the scent of her surrounding him completely as he began to unbutton her top with trembling hands. As he pushed open the blouse, one that Mor had gifted her, he groaned lowly and his cock twitched in his pants. He had never seen her fully naked before, not before today anyway.
"My beautiful, perfect mate," Rhysand drug out the words as he spoke before leaving a trail of reverent kisses across her breasts. He kissed lower, nuzzling his nose against her soft stomach and his wings twitched again happily. He had never felt so complete. All he would ever need was her. As Bambi's fingers tangled in his hair he was brought back to his senses, his mate needed him. Needed his cock. And he'd never deny her. Rhysand hastily reached down to undo his trousers, pushing them down along with his briefs before crawling over her.
Bambi gasped softly as his cock rested between her folds, she couldn't help herself and looked down. Maybe she was biased since he was her mate, but he had a perfect cock. The perfect mix of girth and length. Bambi shivered in anticipation as Rhysand began to leave open-mouthed kisses on her neck, his large body hovering over her like a human shield as his wings flared behind him.
When Rhysand finally sunk into her, Bambi's hearing went out, as if her whole world narrowed down to the feeling of him inside her. The strangled gasp that escaped Rhysand drew her attention. He was blinking rapidly, his chest heaving and wings twitching wildly. A ragged moan escaped him and he nearly collapsed on top of her, all the strength in his body diminishing as he weakly held himself up. Bambi was too far gone to ask if he was okay, her eyes fluttering shut. But then something snapped, all the muscles in Rhysand's arms and back coiled and he inhaled deeply.
When Bambi opened her eyes again, Rhysand's wings were taut in almost a defensive position you'd hold in battle. All of his strength returned to him and he growled lowly against her neck. The frenzy.
Before she could comprehend what was happening Rhysand had Bambi pressed hard into the mattress with his body, pounding into her like he would die if he didn't keep his cock stuffed all the way inside her. The force of his thrusts shook the bed, and her body bounced up the mattress. And Cauldron did she love it.
"Oh Gods…" Bambi muttered breathlessly, her eyes rolling back and hands clawing at his sides. If this is what it felt like to have sex with your mate, she'd become an addict. It felt heavenly as if their bodies were designed to complement each other perfectly. He filled her in a way that made her drool and babble utter nonsense.
Rhysand's face was buried in the crook of her neck. The sounds coming from him were desperate and completely unrestrained, two things Rhysand had never been. He was always put together and in control, yet here he was making equal sounds of whimpering and growling as he fucked her. It was clear it felt just as heavenly to him as it did to her. His grip on the sheets on either side of her head was so strong his fingers had dug into the mattress.
It seemed to go on endlessly, yet Bambi kept wanting more. Rhysand showed no sign of stopping, even as the legs on the bed snapped and they went tumbling to the floor. Rhysand's hands snaked beneath Bambi's head protectively in a flash before they hit the ground and he kept fucking her as if nothing had happened. His wings flared, protecting her from anything that might fall. Even as the bed posts fell he kept thrusting into her, grunting and moaning unabashedly. He didn't stop for hours.
if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below any of my posts or in my submissions!! (check here: about my blog to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)
request from @caramelvanillafrog <3 i hope you like it!!
rick spotted bambi a month ago in the woods, and ever since he had been watching from afar. when her group is attacked by raiders and she's the only survivor, he takes the chance to be her knight in shining armor (6,290 word count).
content warnings, mdni 18+
f!reader, bearded!rick, stalking, slight manipulation, canon twd violence, protective!rick, possessive!rick, mentions of previous sa, consent checks, fingering, oral (f. recieving), use of good girl, let me know if i forgot anything x
my masterlist
Bambi stood at the head of her camp with wide eyes. Her hair which she often wore in two braids was ratty and an utter mess from running through the woods after a group of raiders attacked the camp. She had gotten lucky, able to stay hidden in a pile of brush due to her short stature.
Bambi gaped at the remains of her friends and fell to her knees with a ragged sob, barely even noticing the scrapes on her knees it caused. The bonfire that had been a large blaze when she had run off was now mere kindling, put out from the storm. It was as if the universe had known something devastating was going to happen and began to downpour to express its own grief for the lives that would be lost. With a shaky sniffle, Bambi forced herself back to her feet. The raiders could come back to take out any survivors, so she had to leave before they did.
She faintly could hear her ragged breathing and whimpers over the pouring rain as she gathered a few bullet casings the raiders had somehow left on the ground. She hadn't remembered leaving any ammo at the camp, but she'd take the spot of luck nonetheless. Everything else of value had been taken, along with her friend's lives. Maybe in the morning or a few days she'd come back and bury them. But staying here tonight was too risky. Bambi quickly put the bullets into her gun. The only weapon she had was a Colt Cobra Revolver with one round of ammo left in the cylinder, but now from the other bullets she had found on the ground she had six shots of ammunition.
With one last look at her friend's corpses, she set back off into the woods. She wasn't sure if she would make it on her own, but she wasn't brave enough to join the dead yet.
__
Rick had seen the whole attack happen. He didn't intervene. He had watched Bambi run into the woods to hide when it was all happening, so he knew she was safe. He had watched the massacre from behind a large oak tree. The flickering flames of the bonfire illuminated the whole gruesome scene as he watched from afar. He almost felt sorry enough for her friends to intervene, but he hadn't, because now Bambi was on her own and she would need someone to be her knight in shining armor. Rick would be the person to protect her.
Rick had been trying to come up with a way to welcome Bambi to Alexandria without having to bring her friends along. He didn't want the extra mouths to feed, but he wanted Bambi. The raiders coming to her camp had been a happy accident, and now he had an opening to bring her back with him.
When the raiders left Rick walked over to camp and left extra ammo for Bambi in case she needed it before he came to find her.
About a month ago Rick had been checking the traps in the woods 1/2 a mile from Alexandria when he had seen her. She had walked through the woods like a ghost, utterly silent from how thin and short she was. Rick's first instinct was to draw his pistol, but his hand only rested on the butt of his gun as he watched her from afar. She had managed to find a sundress that fit her body like a glove, with a knitted purse she must've made herself. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in a neat braid. He had never seen someone look so put together in the new world they lived in.
Rick quietly stepped closer, careful to not draw attention from the twigs and leaves beneath his boots so he could watch her without being overheard. She was a beautiful little thing, smiling to herself as she found a blackberry bush. Her smile brought a faint smile to Rick's face. At the sound of twigs snapping and the faint snarling of a walker, Bambi quickly grabbed the last of the berries and hurried off in the opposite direction of Alexandria.
Rick didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he followed her. He discovered she was with a group of 5 other people who had a small camp set up about two miles from Alexandria. It was a miracle no one in his own group had come across them yet.
Rick continued to follow and watch her for nearly four weeks, up until the night of the attack on Bambi's camp. He had developed an infatuation with her, one he couldn't make sense of, but he couldn't stop himself from watching her. He had learned a lot about her from his time stalking her, seeing as there was no other way to put it. She was beautiful, sweet, small, and in need of protection. And no one could protect her better than himself.
__
Bambi was a mess emotionally and physically as she trudged through the woods for somewhere safe to stay for the night. She has never been on her own since all of this started. She didn't even have a goddamn flashlight. She was wandering aimlessly in the dark, hoping the raiders weren't watching her. Which they weren't, but Rick was. Rick had been following quietly, making sure if she ran into any trouble he could intervene and help her. He was waiting for an opportunity to talk to her, or "accidentally" run into her.
Eventually, Bambi stumbled upon a shed in the middle of the woods. It was better than nothing she supposed, considering it was pouring down rain and walkers couldn't sneak up on her if she was hidden. Bambi slowly opened the shed door, the wood creaking loudly. She could feel her gun trembling in her grip, waiting to see if a walker, or worse a human, was going to jump out at her.
Seeing it was empty and quiet, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her with another loud creak. The rain must've made the hinges extra loud. Bambi sat down on the dirt floor of the shed. After a while her eyes eventually drooped shut, her eyes stung from crying and lack of sleep. It was still dark when Bambi blinked awake to the sound of footsteps crunching in the damp leaves. It had stopped raining and the woods were eerily quiet besides the sound of cicadas and crickets. Bambi froze and her hand immediately reached for her gun as she expected either a walker or person to come barging in. She flinched in surprise as a loud gunshot rang throughout the quiet woods, followed by a body falling to the ground with a thump outside the shed.
Bambi could hear her heartbeat in her ears, utterly frozen in place and scared to move. Maybe whoever fired the gun didn't know she was in there?
After a few more moments of silence, there were more crunching footsteps, then the all too familiar sound of a knife being dug into a skull and yanked out with a nauseating squelch. She could faintly see a silhouette through the cracks of the shed. She could only pray they didn't know she was here.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," a low voice with a southern drawl said from the other side of the door. Bambi's breath hitched in her throat and swallowed nervously, hoping maybe if she stayed quiet he'd go away, "You can come out. I promise I mean you know harm," the voice said again and Bambi cocked her gun with trembling hands.
"I have a gun. If you come in here I'll shoot you," she says, the obvious tremor in her voice betraying her fabricated bravery.
"That'd be a waste of a bullet, sweetheart. Like I said, I'm not gonna hurt you," the man said again. Bambi began to panic internally, unsure of what to do. This man could easily be lying so he could grab her and do god knows what to her, "Why don't you come on out?" he asks gently, "I have some water and food if you need it."
There was clear sincerity and concern in the man's voice, one that wouldn't be faked easily. Bambi stood up on trembling legs, her bag still hanging from her shoulder, "T-Take a few steps back first." Bambi demands, her voice still trembling wildly.
Rick smiled slightly on the other side of the shed door. He couldn't help but smile from how adorably flustered she sounded. He put his pistol back in its holster and took 4 steps back. The sound of his boots crunching against the wet leaves told her he had done as she said and she stepped out of the shed. Bambi timidly held up her gun, immediately pointing it at his figure. It was nearly a full moon tonight, so she could make out most of his features, immediately noticing his beard and curly hair.
He held his hands up defensively, "I promise I'm not gonna hurt you. You can even take my gun if you want." he insists.
Bambi glanced down at the dead man a few feet away from her, the body she had heard fall to the ground. He wasn't a walker. Bambi shifted on her feet nervously, still pointing her gun at him. She'd never been at the center of an altercation like this before, "What do you want?" she asks, forcing her voice to sound more steady.
"My name's Rick. I'm from a community about a mile from here. We have houses, walls, medicine, food... anything you need," Rick explains, still holding his hands up to show her he meant no harm.
"Then why'd you kill him if you want to help people?" Bambi asks, the tremble returning to her voice as she glances down at the man's body.
"He was sneakin' up on you, probably planning to kill you. Or worse," Rick answers, his southern accent dragging out his words. Rick began to slowly reach for his gun and Bambi quickly aimed her revolver at his head, "Easy sweetheart, I was just gonna toss my gun over to you."
"Why?" Bambi asks incredulously, still pointing the gun at his forehead.
"I want you to trust me," Rick says as he slowly takes out his gun, holds it by the barrel, and hands the end with the grip towards her. Bambi hesitates before stepping closer to him and quickly snatching the gun from his grip and stepping back again, "You can follow me back, or stay here and keep my gun. It's your choice."
After a few moments of silence, Bambi lowers her gun and puts it in her bag, along with Rick's, "If I come with you do I have the option to leave if I want to?"
"Yes. You can leave whenever you want," Rick assures her, even though internally he knew damn well if she left he'd follow her. Bambi nods her head towards him, motioning for him to start leading her to the community. Rick smiles slightly and starts walking, Bambi following at least 6 feet behind him.
__
When Rick and Bambi got to Alexandria the sun had begun to come up. Rick's body was buzzing with excitement Rosita opened the front gate and let them inside. Rosita looked Bambi up and down, before looking at Rick with furrowed eyebrows.
"Who's this?" she asks, nodding her head towards Bambi.
"I found her in the woods with some guy sneakin' up on her, so I brought her back with me," Rick answers, keeping his answers vague.
"Why were you even out there this time of night?" Rosita asks incredulously. Rick clenches his jaw, not wanting Bambi to realize he had been out there following her.
"Couldn't sleep," Rick huffs, and Rosita hums in acknowledgment, not buying it but letting it slide nonetheless. She looked down at the shorter girl again. Bambi was probably the least intimidating person alive, so Rosita didn't think she could be any sort of threat, "Follow me," Rick murmured to Bambi, who had been admiring Rosita's outfit. She somehow made rather bland clothing items into a sexy outfit. Bambi snapped out of her daze and followed after Rick.
No one else was awake yet, save for Sasha who rarely slept these days. Bambi looked around with wide eyes as Rick led her toward his house. She didn't think places like this existed.
"You can stay at my place and get some rest," Rick says, trying to tame the butterflies blooming in his stomach. He felt nervous. Rick barely ever felt nervous, especially not over some girl.
"Okay," Bambi mutters timidly, clutching her bag tightly as Rick led her up the porch steps to his house and led her inside.
"Are you thirsty? Hungry?" Rick asks, turning on the light switch. When the lights came on Bambi could finally make out his face clearly. Her eyes widened in surprise. He was handsome, even with a beard even though she didn't often find men with beards attractive. And his eyes...
"I-I'm okay," she clears her throat, trying to school her expression. Rick couldn't help but grin slightly, his ego boosting. He hadn't spent much time worrying about his appearance lately, too preoccupied with keeping everyone in Alexandria safe and fed. Especially after the attack they had here a few weeks ago. It made his chest feel warm knowing Bambi found him attractive, even with the unruly way he looked.
Rick got her a glass of water anyway, and Bambi's eyes nearly bugged out of her skull as she realized they had running water. Rick grinned again from her surprise, "We have hot water too if you wanna grab a shower." he muttered, still grinning.
Bambi looked down at herself, she did look a little worse for wear, "That would be nice. Thank you." she said shyly as Rick handed her the glass of water that she quickly took a few swigs from, unable to resist fresh water.
Rick led her upstairs and into his bedroom. Of course, he hadn't told her it was his bedroom, but the idea of her naked in his shower and then cuddling up in his bed made his heart race and that weird warmth return to his chest.
"Everything you need'll be in there. Do you need a fresh change of clothes?" Rick asks, hoping she'd say yes so he could give her some of his.
"I actually have some," she says, motioning to the knitted bag hanging on her shoulder.
"Okay, I'll be in the room next to this one if you need anything," Rick nods slightly. He would be staying in the guest room so this little angel could sleep tangled in his sheets. He felt a sick sense of satisfaction knowing she'd wake up smelling like him.
Rick couldn't help but lean against the wall in the guest room to listen to Bambi as she showered. He smiled as she heard a slight giggle of delight through the wall after she had stepped under the water. He imagined it's been a long time since she's gotten to shower with hot water.
Rick had forced himself away to tidy himself up as well. He stared at himself in the mirror, preparing to shave his beard to look more presentable for her, when he heard a timid knock on the bedroom door. It was almost comical how quickly he dropped the razor onto the bathroom counter, haphazardly wiped off the shaving cream, and strode over to the door. When he opened it to see Bambi stood before him in a cute little sleep set a shaky breath escaped him. His brain shut off for a moment as his eyes scanned her up and down, when he realized she wasn't some lingerie mannequin and could see him staring at her he quickly looked back up at your face.
"Do you need somethin' sweetheart?" he asks, his voice involuntarily dropping a few octaves.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," she mutters nervously, motioning to the bit of shaving cream he had missed.
"No, no. You're not interrupting," he clears his throat nervously, wiping off the rest of the shaving cream with his hand.
"I just wanted to ask if I could use one of the unopened toothbrushes in there," she asks, motioning to the room that she had come from.
"That's no problem darlin'. Use whatever you want," he smiles down at her. Bambi nodded slightly, preparing to walk away, then stopped herself.
"You should keep it," she muttered before she could second guess herself, motioning to his beard before scurrying back over to the room she was staying in. Rick stuck his head out of the doorway to watch her walk away, his eyes lingering on her ass. Rick grinned triumphantly as he went back into the guest bedroom, his chest puffing slightly after she asked him to keep the beard.
--
Rick had encouraged Bambi to get some sleep, seeing as they arrived at Alexandria at sunrise, but she couldn't sleep. This all felt so foreign to be in an actual house, with an actual bed, after just taking a shower with hot water.
But one thing that distracted her from her unease was the smell of the sheets. It smelled like a deep and rich cologne. She wondered who had slept in here before her that made it smell so good. Maybe this is where Rick took all new members at first. After about an hour and a half of trying to sleep and failing, the door to her room opened slightly. She looked over as Rick peeked in.
"Hey there… just wanted to see how you're settling in," he greets, his voice warm as he leans against the doorframe.
"I'm okay… it just feels weird being here," she chuckles nervously and Rick smiles, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It took me a month to get used to how soft the mattress was," he smiles, his eyes flickering down slightly to her chest before back up to her face. She looked angelic, cuddled in his bed with her hair framed across his pillows.
"You can have your gun back. It's in my bag," Bambi says, motioning to her bag that was hung on the back of the bathroom door.
"I'll grab it later after you've got some sleep. Having it with you might help you relax," Rick glances at her bag before focusing back on her, "Anyway, I'll let you sleep," he mutters before finally leaving the room.
--
About two weeks later Bambi still hadn't gotten used to her life in Alexandria. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely this wouldn't last, nothing good did anymore. But, Rick was doing everything he could to make her feel welcome and happy. Even though a few of the members didn't seem to like her, Spencer especially.
Rick had picked up on Spencer's disapproving glances and holier-than-thou attitude and he didn't like it. He had been watching from afar as Rosita showed Bambi a better way to hold her gun, and Spencer scoffed, mumbling something about how she should know how to hold a gun by now. Then he followed up by saying she'd never make it on her own. Bambi's shoulders had deflated and she went back to her and Rick's house. She'd barely left his house the past two weeks. And one of her first trips out resulted in her going back into hiding.
Rick clenched his jaw as he noticed Bambi shrink into herself and make her way back to his house. With anger bubbling in his gut he strode over to Spencer, his hand resting on the butt of his gun.
"Spencer," Rick grits out between clenched teeth.
"Rick," Spencer acknowledges, barely sparing him a glance.
"If you say anything, and I mean anything, to make her feel unwelcome… I'll kill you myself and make it look like a walker did it," Rick threatens, his voice deadly calm, "We clear?"
Spencer almost began to laugh, thinking Rick was joking, but when he realized he wasn't he straightened up, "Yeah." is all he muttered before walking away. Rick watched Spencer walk away, his gaze rich with disdain, before turning in the direction of his house.
Bambi was still sleeping in his room, which Rick didn't mind one bit. He knew sooner or later he'd end up sleeping in that bed with her every night. It was only a matter of time. Meanwhile, he could at least enjoy the sight of her in it.
Rick knocked softly on the bedroom door. When he heard a faint 'Come in', he pushed it open, "You alright in here sweetheart?"
"Yeah, just not in the mood to be out and about I guess," she murmurs, pulling out her knitting supplies that Rick had given her. He claimed he had them lying around, but after he found out she liked to knit the month he spent following her, he looked for knitting needles and yarn on every supply run.
"Listen... Spencer's a dipshit. He thinks he's some tough guy but he's not," Rick sighs as he walks over to her and sits on the edge of the bed, "I'd bet you'd last longer on your own than he would," Rick says with a warm smile.
"He has a point though. I'm not the type of person that's built for a world like this. I've only gotten lucky so far," she mumbles as she begins to weave pieces of yarn together. Rick's eyes followed the movement of her hands for a moment before resting his hand on her thigh, his thumb rubbing soothing circles like it was the most natural thing in the world to him.
"You don't need to be tough or feel brave. You don't need to worry about makin' it on your own anymore," Rick says, his voice low and intimate, "Nothing dead or alive will ever touch a hair on your head." his voice was thick with promise as his hand squeezed her thigh slightly. His hand looked huge compared to her slender thigh, it made Bambi's pulse quicken.
"I know. I know the others would have my back if something happened," Bambi forced herself to stop staring at his hand and focused back on knitting.
Rick sighed shakily and moved even closer to her so his leg bumped against hers, keeping his hand on her thigh, "I'm not talkin' about them," he murmured, leaning in closer in a way that made Bambi's breath hitch, "Baby..." Rick whispers, lifting a hand to rest on the side of Bambi's face and guiding her to look at him. The endearment made Bambi's stomach do a flip, "You don't need them, because I'll be the one keepin' you safe," he said with a low rumble as his thumb caressed her cheek, "You sleep in my house, in my bed... you're mine to keep safe."
Bambi glanced down at the bed they were both sitting on, "This is your bed?" she asked shyly.
"Mhm," Rick nods, "Those blankets you cuddle up in, the cologne you smell on the sheets. Those are all mine baby."
Bambi swallowed thickly, "Why'd you have me sleep in here all this time and not a guest room?" Bambi asks breathily, trying to keep her composure despite the butterflies going crazy in her tummy.
"I think you know why," Rick grins and Bambi exhales shakily, her eyes darting back and forth between his. Rick leaned even closer until his nose nearly bumped against hers, "I wanna keep you safe, surround you with myself," he explained, his eyes drinking in her eyes and features as if she were a painting, "You're such a sweet girl, baby. You need to be kept safe," he coos, rubbing his thumb on the underside of her bottom lip, "And there's no safer place for you than in my bed." Rick mumbles, his eyes flickering down to her lips. Bambi's ball of yarn had been forgotten, slipping out of her fingers and onto the mattress, "You gonna be a good girl and let me keep you safe?" Rick whispers, his lips only a breath away from hers. Bambi nods mindlessly in response, "I knew you would be," he mumbles to himself before capturing her lips with his.
Rick sighs into the kiss, his hand snaking up to tangle in her hair and pull her closer. Rick guided Bambi, not letting her speed up or slow down the kiss until he was ready. He wanted to savor the softness of her lips and the warmth of her mouth when he slipped his tongue inside it.
“You’re so beautiful sweetheart, like an angel,” Rick hums against her lips, pulling her even closer until she is half on his lap. He grabbed the ball of yarn and knitting needles and haphazardly tossed them onto the ground. Bambi couldn't help the slight smile his words caused, and the rush of heat to her cheeks, "You’re my pretty girl… aren’t you?” Rick asks with an intimate rumble, pulling back enough to meet her eyes. Bambi nodded again. It was as if a piece of her brain had shut off and she was responding to him on autopilot. Rick kisses her again, his technique growing a bit more heated, “What do you need, baby?” Rick asks as he begins to kiss along her jawline.
It was as if Bambi had finally snapped out of her trance and all her anxieties came flooding back into her mind, "I don't know. I..." she whispered with a slight tremor in her voice.
"What baby?" Rick mumbles against her skin as he begins to trail open-mouthed kisses down her neck.
"I haven't done anything sexual with anyone where I've been... asked what I wanted," she swallows nervously. Rick's eyebrows furrowed and he paused for a moment, his lips hovering over her skin before pulling back to look at her.
"What do you mean by that?" he asks, his face scrunched slightly in concern.
"I um... well," Bambi stammers for a moment. This was always a mood killer, "I'm not a virgin, but, when I lost my virginity it was...bad." she tries to explain and Rick only stares at her from her vague explanation, she could see the wheels turning in his head, "I didn't want it to happen. But it did." she clarifies, fiddling with her fingers nervously. When Rick finally understood what she meant the furrow between his brows went away and his face went blank, yet his eyes simmered with rage. She noticed the shaky inhale and clench of his jaw. He looked livid, and utterly hateful, as he stared at her. His mind was running wild with images, each worse than the last, of what could've happened to her and what he would've done if he found whoever had done it to her. Bambi thought for a moment his look of utter revulsion was directed towards her and she started to pull away when Rick stopped her.
"It's not you, baby," he assures her, his eyes still dark and almost crazed as he looked blankly at her as if recalling some distant memory, "Just thinkin'..."
Bambi gaped at him for a moment, unsure of what to say, "Do you want me to go, or..." she swallowed nervously.
Rick finally snapped out of his daze and tilted his head as he looked at her, "Why would I want you to go?"
"It doesn't seem like you're interested in doing this kinda stuff with me anymore," she answers hesitantly with furrowed eyebrows.
"I am interested, baby," he grins slightly, trying to push down the rage boiling in his gut, "I just don't like the idea of anyone hurtin' you." his jaw clenches again like the anger had bubbled up again but he straightened up, "We don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can stop right now, or just stick to kissin'. Whatever you want," he assures her with a soothing tone, the crazed look in his eyes softening to something more intimate and adoring.
"I do want to do more. I'm just… nervous for some reason," she mutters, beginning to fiddle with her fingers again.
Rick smiles slightly and takes one of her hands. "How about you show me where you want me to touch you, and we can start there?" he offers, holding her hand so she can guide him where she wants him. Bambi sighed shakily, and with a decisive look in her eyes, she guided his fingers to hover over her clothed center beneath her skirt. Rick fought back the urge to chuckle as she held her chin up high like she was trying to prove something to herself. She was adorable.
Rick's thumb began to gently rub her clit through her panties, biting back a groan at the damp heat he found there, “How’s this baby? This okay?” he asks lowly, rubbing languid circles over her nub. Bambi nods with a small 'mhm', bringing a grin to Rick's face as her lips parted with a soft pant. As Bambi began to relax more Rick started to kiss down her neck again as he continued to slowly circle her clit, easing her into it. When a slight moan slipped past Bambi's lips, Rick's kisses came to a stop and he pulled her closer. “C’mere baby,” he murmured, picking Bambi up like she was as light as a feather and sitting her on his lap with her back pressed against his chest. He scooched back on the bed slightly so they were more comfortable, resting his unoccupied hand on her belly to keep her close.
Once Rick had Bambi comfortably positioned between his legs, his hand slid back down to circle her clit again, this time pressing down harder and rubbing a bit faster circles. Bambi let out another timid moan and Rick quickly encouraged her, “That’s it, baby,” he muttered, placing a kiss on the side of her head, “Feels nice doesn’t it?”
Bambi nods in response, her breathing growing heavier and her eyes fluttering shut. Her hand moved up to grip his bicep, causing Rick to moan slightly, "Hold me however you need to, baby," he said huskily in her ear, "Still doing okay?" he asked, growing breathless himself and Bambi quickly nodded. Rick moaned lowly as the dampness on her panties coated his fingers. Her panties were soaked through. He removed his fingers from her clit and slid only the tips of his fingers beneath her panties, “How about this? Can I touch you like this?” Rick asks and Bambi nods again. Rick’s hands slipped completely beneath her panties, his palm pressed against her mound as his fingers sought out her clit again. A small, shaky moan slipped out from Bambi's lips from the direct contact with her pussy. “This pretty pussy’s dripping for me isn’t it baby?” Rick coos and Bambi nods again with a whimper. She could feel her brain beginning to shut off again, her thoughts going blank from the strong, but nurturing presence of Rick. Bambi had never been so turned on in her life.
Rick's middle finger slid down slightly to rub around her entrance before moving back up again to circle her clit. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, planting more kisses on her head and temple. Bambi was practically beaming from his praise, and also from the pride she felt towards herself. She had thought for a long time she'd never want to have sex or do anything remotely sexual with anyone due to her trauma. Yet, here she was overcoming her fears and discomfort. Better yet, she was enjoying it.
Mewls and whimpers escaped her lips as Rick continued to rub her clit, his middle finger occasionally slipping down to gather the wetness by her opening and then returning to her clit. Rick's chest was heaving with shaky breaths, touching her like this alone was enough to make him cream his pants like a teenager.
“Gonna try something else now, sweet girl,” Rick murmured, carefully lifting Bambi off his lap as he got off the bed and kneeled in front of her, "Tell me if you don't like how it feels, okay?" Rick asks and Bambi nods, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine. “Scooch down some more baby,” he smiles slightly, pulling Bambi closer to the edge of the bed as she wiggles closer to him, “There we go,” he sighs once she is positioned where he wants her. He left a trail of hot kisses along her inner thighs, his beard scratching on her skin as his hands spread her thighs further apart with gentle pushes.
Bambi's body was buzzing with anxiety and anticipation. She'd never been eaten out before and had always worried about whether she smelled or tasted funny. But she pushed the worries down, determined to jump this hurdle too.
Rick pulled her panties to the side, and somehow it felt less embarrassing to Bambi than if he had pulled her panties off completely. But maybe that's why he did it. He started easy, pressing a few gentle kisses on her folds and clit. Bambi noticed how he licked his lips after each little kiss like he was trying to taste her without being obvious or overbearing. It made her smile slightly and restored a bit of confidence.
Once the tension in Bambi's body began to relax Rick gently pulled down her skirt and panties, placing tender kisses on each of her knees before he pulled them down to her ankles. Once Rick had set them on the floor he looked back up at her with a determined glint in his eyes, he wanted this to be good for her, “This stops whenever you want it to.” He reminds Bambi, who nods in agreement. Rick wrapped his arms around her thighs and his eyes raked over her intimate area. Rick could feel the damp spot on the front of jeans from precum as he subconsciously licked his lips at the sight of her bare pussy.
Bambi's cheeks turn red and she looks away from him in embarrassment, suddenly feeling exposed. “No need to be embarrassed sweetheart, just soakin’ in the sight of my girl's pretty pussy,” he murmurs before kissing along her slit again, “Been dyin’ to get a glimpse of this cunt baby,” he mumbles before licking up her slit with the flat of his tongue from just above her anus to the top of her clit. Rick pulled back with a satisfied grunt and parted her pussy lips with his thumbs and taking a moment to admire her before repeating the same action, licking every hidden crevice of her. He had been imagining for months what she tasted like. Daydreaming about smelling her on his beard the next day, or her cute little body over him as she sat on his face… the fantasies went on and on.
Bambi gasped, her hand instinctually moving to cover her mouth and muffle the sounds she made as Rick began to kitten lick at her clit. He watched her face closely to make sure she wasn't uncomfortable. Her eyes were closed and her eyebrows were furrowed from a mix of pleasure and awe at the new sensations he was providing. He reveled in how her lips made an 'o' shape with soft pants, her mouth slightly hidden behind her hand. He wanted to move her hand so he could see every bit of her beautiful face, but if it made her more comfortable to keep her hand there he would allow it for now.
She let out sweet little gasps and quick intakes of air as he licked her clit with the tip of his tongue, differing from Rick's unrestrained groans and grunts of enjoyment from between her legs. Her thighs twitched, closing slightly and Rick slid his hand to the underside of her thigh to guide her legs back open. He wanted unrestricted access to her pussy. Rick squeezed her thigh with a moan before focusing back completely on her intoxicating pussy. He lapped languidly at her cunt with low moans and lewd wet sounds before sucking her clit between his lips.
Bambi's legs twitched again as he suckled on her clit, a sound of surprise escaping her. Her hands moved down to grip the sheets as Rick continued his ministrations between her legs. With a low groan, he slid his hands up beneath her shirt to rest on her sides, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against the underside of her breasts. Rick began to flick her clit again with his tongue, earning a desperate whimper from Bambi as her back arched slightly which was met with a groan of approval from Rick. He wanted to see his little angel lost in pleasure, arching into his touch.
Bambi's breathing picked up and her legs began to squirm as she neared her peak and Rick yanked her even harder against his mouth, eating her out with fervor as she came with a high-pitched whine. Her shaky sobs and whimpers of pleasure filled the room as Rick continued to kiss and suckle on her clit until her body went limp on the bed. He leaned back to look at her, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to her cunt, "How was that baby? Nice and satisfied?" he asks huskily and Bambi nods, her lower belly quivering slightly, "I love this perfect little cunt so much," Rick groans, his eyes rolling back as he leaned back for more.
if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below any of my posts or in my submissions!! (check here: about my blog to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)
cassian meets with a teacher at nyx's school once a week. she's the most perfect thing he's ever seen (1,698 word count)
content warnings, mdni 18+
f!reader, just pure smut, oral (f. receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, slight size kink, use of good girl, spanking (once), cassian's down bad for her, let me know if i forgot anything x
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note: we’re just gonna pretend nesta doesn’t exist or she ended up with eris lol. also i basically just use the name bambi instead of Y/N cause i get sick of typing it so imagine her however you want :)
Cassian was hooked. That was the only way to put it. Ever since he spent that first night with Bambi… he was addicted. Cassian had offered to pick Nyx up from kindergarten a couple times last month to help Rhys and Feyre out. Feyre was pregnant with their second child, while Azriel had been busy with Gwyn, his newfound mate. Cassian didn’t mind helping out though, he was Nyx’s uncle after all.
What he didn’t expect was Bambi. She was the first grade teacher at Nyx’s school, and gods… Cassian thought she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. Soft hips and full lips on such a small package. Cassian is 6’7, so even though Bambi was 5’5 he still towered over her. Her head only reached his shoulder.
He wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, but he wound up with Bambi tangled up with him in his bed two days later fucking like rabbits for 4 hours straight before he finally passed out in a heap of exhaustion. Now, it has been a month of their weekly Saturday night trysts and Cassian was utterly obsessed with her.
Cassian’s eyes were rolled back into his head as he feasted on Bambi’s cunt, his paws for hands resting on her belly and sides. She somehow tasted better each time he ate her out, so naturally Cassian stayed between her legs longer every time he saw her. He had drool all over his lips, chin, and neck from how thoroughly drunk on her cunt he was., She tasted so damn good.
A sweet little gasp and arch of her back caught Cassian’s attention and he looked up at her. He smirked against her pussy as he watched her head turn back and forth every few seconds on the pillow like she couldn’t keep still. Cassian hummed against her clit, his large hands moving up to cup and squeeze her breasts, earning another gasp from Bambi. She had her legs bent and pulled up against her chest, her toes curling as Cassian began to thrust his tongue in and out of her. Cassian never considered himself to be one of those guys with a foot fetish, but even her toes somehow managed to look sexy.
Bambi’s lips formed a ‘o’ shape and her hand flew down to grip onto his long locks as she reached her peak, letting out a string of moans, gasps, and squeaks. Cassian could only moan like a wanton whore between her legs, his tongue lapping languidly at her entrance to catch every drop of her juices. When she did her usual sigh of satisfaction Cassian pulled back and snaked his arms underneath her thighs. He lifted her effortlessly as Bambi squeaked in surprise, her hands flying to grip onto his shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. As if he’d let her.
Cassian quickly sat on the edge of the bed, positioning Bambi in his lap. “Need you to ride me baby,” Cassian murmurs breathily, his arms wrapping around her to keep her steady. Bambi nodded mindlessly and pressed herself against him, kissing him with a soft moan. Cassian’s grip on her tightened as he worked his tongue into her mouth, almost wanting to swallow up all her saliva. That’s how obsessed he was with her, “You’ve got the most perfect fucking body…” Cassian mumbles against her lips with a slight shake of his head in disbelief. She smiled against his lips from his compliment, followed by a grumbling growl from Cassian. Even her smile turned him on. “Never mind, you can ride me later.” Cassian muttered, flipping them over so Bambi’s ass was hanging off the edge of the bed.
Cassian shoved her thighs apart widely so each of her knees touched the mattress as he slapped his cock against her pussy. “Gonna get you nice and full again, huh?” he smirks, teasingly sliding only the head of his cock into her. Bambi moaned raggedly and her head fell back against the bed. Cassian slid deeper with a groan, “Oh yeah… gonna get this pussy nice and full.” he murmured as he slid all the way in. Bambi gasped and her eyes squeezed shut. Nobody had ever made her feel as full as he did. Cassian’s wings flared as he bottomed out inside her with a rugged groan.
His big hands gripped her thighs, pulling her closer to him so he sunk even deeper into her. “Goddamn,” he panted as the head of his cock nudged insistently against her cervix, the muscles in his lower back twitched with the incessant urge to rut into her like an animal. Cassian maneuvered himself over her so his forearms were braced on either side of her head, "How's that feel baby?” Cassian asks, his voice low, seductive, and somehow controlled despite her vice-like grip on his cock.
“G-Good,” Bambi managed to gasp out, her legs wiggling slightly and chest heaving from the near unbearable fullness of his cock. Cassian smirked proudly at her reaction, this cute little thing had no idea how atrociously down bad he was for her.
“Nice and full now, aren’t you?” Cassian says as he leans even closer to his nose nudges against her cheek with a long inhale. He loved her scent. His hand pushed down on her lower belly as he spoke.
“Mhm,” Bambi whimpers, her breathing ragged. Cassian kissed her cheek, down her jaw, and grazed his teeth against his neck.
“If you were my mate I’d have you stuffed full of my cock 23 hours a day,” Cassian murmurs against her neck, leaving wet kisses on her skin.
“Not 24?” Bambi asks, a tremor in her voice from the unrelenting pressure of his cock against her g-spot.
“Gotta save an hour so I can taste your sweet little pussy,” he says as if it was obvious. Bambi shivered with a slight moan and Cassian chuckles, “Such a cute girl…” he murmurs before straightening up slightly for momentum as he begins to thrust. Bambi whimpered again, her trembling hands moving to grip onto the sheets. Cassian’s hands sneaked underneath her, lifting her by the lower back so his cock hit a new spot inside her. From her little smile and surprised gasp, he took it as a sign she liked it, “Mmm good girl,” he praised huskily as her moans grew a little louder. She was always so timid at first, but by the time he was done with her she was always a cock drunk mess. Cassian kept his left hand on her lower belly, pressing firmly on it, causing Bambis’ eyes to roll back with a choked moan. Cassian smirked triumphantly, her shy nature beginning to crumble as usual.
“That’s it, let everything else go,” Cassian grunted, picking up speed so her body bounced on the mattress. Bambi’s hands clawed at the sheets, her breasts bouncing wildly as he pounded into her. His eyes drank in the sight of her, “Goddamn you’re perfect,” he said breathily amidst his unrelenting thrusts, “You’re my perfect little girl aren’t you?” Cassian asks with a shaky moan.
Bambi nodded eagerly, “Y-Yeah,” she squeaked out.
“Damn right you are,” Cassian grits out, shoving her onto her side and holding one of her legs up so he reaches new spots inside her. Bambi cried out from the new angle, her eyes squeezing shut with rapid breaths. Cassian moaned lowly at the sight of her pert ass jiggling with each thrust and he let go of her thigh only long enough to place a loud smack on her ass. Bambi whimpered from the sharp sting of his hand, but her mouth quickly fell back open with an unrestrained moan. Cassian reached back with his free hand to caress the side of his wing, shivers and sparks of pleasure shooting down his spine with a choked moan. Wanting her to touch his wings instead, he pulled out of her sopping cunt and pulled her into his arms before sitting on the bed. Without wasting a second Cassian quickly plunged back inside her, his hands gripping her hips to lift her up and down on him before she could even catch up with what he was doing.
“Touch my wings,” he demands between ragged breaths. Bambi nods mindlessly, barely able to keep her eyes open as he manhandles her up and down on his cock. She traced two fingers along the edges of his right wing and he moaned raggedly, pulling her down even harder onto his cock now.
“Oh g-gods,” Bambi gasped, her eyes shutting and mouth falling open, her fingers still absentmindedly dancing along the edge of his wing.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” Cassian grits out, reaching his peak far quicker than usual from the stimulation on his wings. Cassian slammed her down hard onto his cock as he came with a strangled groan, his hips bucking off the bed to try to reach even deeper inside her which was practically impossible. “Holy fuck,” Cassian gasps out, his tone hoarse from the intensity of his orgasm, “Oh gods…” he sighs as the tension in his body finally began to subside, his hips still pumping slightly, “Holy shit,” he mutters, looking up at Bambi who was equally as winded but still coherent, which wouldn’t do, “Need you to cum for me still,” Cassian pants, lifting her up and down on his cock again with another strangled moan, his cock was nearly unbearably sensitive from just orgasming but he didn’t care. She hadn’t finished yet. His seed had begun to leak out from around his cock, dripping down onto his balls.
“Gonna… I’m gonna…” Bambi babbles, her hands clawing and gripping at his shoulders.
“Yeah, I’m gonna-” Cassian gasps helplessly. The vein in his neck nearly popped out as he came again, this time with Bambi’s cunt clenching exquisitely around him. His head fell back with a strangled cry, fucking her through their orgasms, “Oh fuck, oh gods,” he rambled, still pumping into her as Bambi sobbed and moaned while her body turned to jelly atop him. When they were both finally spent with only the sounds of their heavy breathing filling the room Cassian spoke up, “So… same time next week?”
if you have any fic requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below or on my masterlist!! (check here: about my blog to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)
living during the apocalypse is hard to begin with, it's even worse when you have an autoimmune disease like bambi. rick and bambi have been a couple since before the world fell apart, and they've found themselves in the worst conditions they've had to withstand so far. the longer she goes without proper hydration and nourishment the worse her symptoms are becoming. he's not sure how much longer he can take seeing her so weak (3,783 word count).
content warnings, but there's not much to warn about lol
f!reader, chronic illness!reader, established relationship, attentive!rick, caretaker!rick, season5!rick, bearded!rick, use of good girl, fainting/syncope spells, sister figure!michonne, mentions of death/violence, mentions of starvation/dehydration, this will follow the majority of the canon plot and include spoilers (but judith doesn't exist), let me know if i forgot anything x
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i have POTS and i've daydreamed a lot about what rick would be like with a chronically ill gf. this is what i think he'd be like. also i basically just use the name bambi instead of y/n cause it gets annoying typing y/n over and over, so imagine her however you'd like :)
Rick was on edge. Not only were his insides gnawing at him for food, but the whole center of his universe, Bambi, was sick. Rick’s fingers absentmindedly combed through Bambi’s hair as he stared blankly at the ground. Her head was resting on his lap as she slept. His mind was trying to conjure solutions to get more supplies, or more importantly more food and water. Before the world went to shit the best way to help Bambi’s symptoms was for her to drink as much water as possible. She’d only had a few measly sips today and it was paying the price.
They didn’t have the medications she used to take for her condition anymore either, they had run out after a few months, and their only options to make her feel better were hydration and nourishment. She didn’t have either right now and hasn’t for a long time. Rick could handle the hunger and thirst, he would suffer through it if it meant Bambi had more food and water for herself. He had been lying to her and telling her he already had his portions when he was actually mixing his in with hers and only eating and drinking enough so his organs wouldn’t fail. Rick could handle starvation and dehydration. But he couldn't handle seeing Bambi so sick and weak.
Her face was now constantly pale and green with an unrelenting tremble in her limbs. Her body pains were nearly unbearable and she was having presyncope spells (the sensation of fainting or very nearly losing consciousness) multiple times a day. Rick was so worried he could hardly keep his cool, wanting to smash someone's skull in as if that would do anything, but he knew he had to keep calm for her sake. Rick wasn't the only one who was worried. Everyone in the group loved Bambi like family, and seeing her so vulnerable made everyone's already protective natures grow tenfold.
Bambi's head stirred on Rick's lap as the barn doors creaked open and Maggie called to the group. Rick rubbed his thumb gently on her head, encouraging her to keep resting.
"Everyone… this is Aaron," Maggie announces. At the sound of a stranger's name, Rick's head flew in the direction of the door. He quickly, but gently, lifted Bambi's head off his lap and rose to his feet while drawing his gun, "We met him outside, he's by himself. We took his weapons and we took his gear," Maggie reassures everyone as Daryl patted the man down. Bambi sat up curiously. Rick stood right in front of her, blocking her partially from view while Michonne stood on Rick's left. They made a collective barrier between the stranger and Bambi who was peeking around Rick's legs at the newcomer. Aaron looked around wearily as everyone in the group stared him down, making it clear if he even moved too quickly he'd be on the ground with a bullet in his head.
"Hi," Aaron said, his tone unsure and weary, "It's nice to meet you," he continued as he took a step in the direction of Rick, Bambi, and Michonne to shake their hands. Everyone flanked around him, clearly not wanting him any closer to Bambi. Rick lifted his gun with a threatening tilt of his head as if he was challenging him to move any closer.
"You said he had a weapon?" Rick asks Maggie, disregarding Aaron's greeting. As Maggie walked over to Rick to hand it to him, he holstered his gun, still standing protectively in front of Bambi. Rick inspected the gun before making a show of counting the number of bullets in the gun before tucking the weapon into the waistband of his jeans, "There somethin' you need?" Rick questions Aaron, his voice husky and intimidating.
"He has a camp nearby," Sasha speaks up, "He wants us to audition for membership," she says with a disbelieving glance towards Aaron.
"I wish there was another word. Audition makes it sound like we're some kind of dance troupe. That's only on Friday nights," Aaron jokes, trying to ease the crushing tension in the barn. Yet nobody so much as smiled. Realizing nobody was interested in small talk or jokes he shook his head slightly, "And it's not a camp. It's a community. I think you all would make valuable additions, but it's not my call. My job is to convince you all to follow me back home." he explains but nobody says a word. Rick was still staring at Aaron with an unruly gaze, "I know. If I were you I wouldn't go either. Not until I knew exactly what I was getting into," Aaron swallows nervously and looks over at Sasha, "Sasha can you hand Rick my pack?"
Bambi bristles slightly as Aaron uses their names, meaning he has been watching them for a long time, "Front pocket, there's an envelope." Aaron instructs as Rick kneels beside Bambi to look inside the backpack. Bambi leans closer to try to look inside the pack as well, "There's no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community" Aaron acknowledged before motioning to the pack, "That's why I brought those." he says as Rick pulled out a yellow envelope. Bambi rested her cheek against his shoulder as he listened to Aaron explain things further, "I apologize in advance for the picture quality. We just found an old camera store last--"
Daryl cuts him off, "Nobody gives a shit." he says gruffly.
"You're absolutely 100% right," he says to Daryl before turning back towards Rick who had started to pull pictures out of the envelope, the images all fuzzy and low quality. The top one was a picture of tall, braced walls, "That's the first picture I wanted to show you because nothing I say about our community will matter unless you know you'll be safe."
Bambi glanced up at Rick, trying to decipher what he thought. Rick looked at her briefly before looking back down at the pictures, "If you join us you will be. Each panel in that wall is a 15-foot high, 12-foot wide slab of solid steel framed by cold-rolled steel beams and square tubing," Aaron continues to explain as Rick rises to his feet, resting a hand on Bambi's back so she wouldn't bump her chin on his knee or something as he stood up, "Nothing alive or dead gets through that without our say-so."
Michonne looks over Rick's shoulder at the pictures as Aaron continues to make his pitch. Everyone was glancing around each other as if trying to communicate telepathically, trying to tell if the others believed his story or not, "Like I said, security is obviously important. In fact, there's only one resource more critical to our community's survival. The people. Together we're strong. You can make us even stronger."
Rick glanced down at Bambi, then over at Michonne, before he started walking briskly towards Aaron who was still babbling on about the pictures. Bambi's eyebrows furrowed as Rick advanced towards Aaron, not entirely sure what he was doing, and then Rick swung hard, connecting his fist with Aaron's jaw. Bambi's eyes widened slightly as Aaron fell to the ground, knocked out cold.
"Why'd you do that?" Bambi asks incredulously. He didn't even give Aaron a chance to finish explaining.
"We gotta secure him, dump his pack," Rick instructs Carl, "Let's see what this guy really is. Everybody else we need eyes in every direction. They're coming for us. We might not know how or when, but they are." Rick barks at the group. Bambi begins to rise to her feet and Rick immediately walks back over to her in two quick strides, "Sit back down, you don't need to be on your feet," he said firmly, gripping her arm to encourage her to sit back down. Bambi exchanged a glance with Michonne, who had sent her a meaningful 'talk to him' look.
"What if he's telling the truth?" Bambi asks Rick, staying on her feet even as he tries to force her to sit back down, "We gotta at least hear him out."
"Me and Sasha, we didn't see him. If he had wanted to hurt us, he could've," Maggie pipes up as well. Rick disregarded Maggie's words, snaking his arms beneath Bambi's thighs to lift her and walk her over to a nearby crate before setting her down on it and sending her a firm 'stay put' look.
"Anybody see anything?" Rick asks the group. Bambi glared up at him, even as he planted a kiss on the top of her head, seemingly not caring she was irritated with him.
"Just a lot of places to hide," Glenn says as he looks out one of the peepholes in the barn walls. Rick yanked over another small crate and lifted Bambi's feet to set them on it.
"Keep 'em elevated," he murmured to Bambi before turning back to Glenn, "All right, keep looking," Rick commanded before turning towards Carl who had been stifling through Aaron's backpack, "What'd you find?"
Carl hands him a flare gun, "Never seen a gun like that before," Carl mutters as Rick pops open the gun to see what type of ammo it holds. When he realized it was a flare gun his eyes darkened. Was this bastard waiting for the chance to signal his group so they could ambush them? That wasn't an option for Rick, not with Bambi so sick and weak. On good days she could hold her own just fine, but good days were few and far between for her now. Rick stalked over to Aaron. Maggie was holding a wet cloth against his head as he slowly came to.
"That's a hell of a right cross there, Rick," Aaron chuckles dryly, barely able to lift his head off the dirty floor of the barn.
"Sit him up," Rick says lowly, clutching the flare gun tightly in his hand.
"I think it's better if--" Maggie began to argue when Aaron cut her off.
"It's okay," Aaron mutters with a groan.
"He's fine, sit him up," Rick says again, not caring if Aaron is fine or not.
"You're being cautious, I completely understand," Aaron says after he sits up with another pained groan.
"How many of your people are out there? You have a flare gun," Rick says, holding the gun up so Aaron and everyone else can see it. Bambi shifts nervously on the crate, maybe Rick was right and this guy was trying to double cross them, "You have it to signal your people. How many of them are there?"
Aaron sighs, "Does it matter?"
"Yes. Yes, it does," Rick says, making it clear he wasn't asking. He needed to know how many people were out there.
"I mean, of course, it matters how many people are actually out there, but does it matter how many people I tell you are out there? Because I'm pretty sure no matter what number I say… 8, 32, 444, zero… no matter what I say you're not going to trust me." Aaron says decisively.
"Well, it's hard to trust anyone who smiles after getting punched in the face," Rick quips.
"How about a guy who leaves bottles of water for you in the road?" Aaron argued. Daryl looked back at the couple of water bottles they had found in his pack.
"How long you people been following us?" Daryl demands gruffly. It had been days since they found the container of water bottles in the road. Rick glanced back at Bambi briefly, mad at himself for not noticing they had been followed and possibly putting her at risk.
"Long enough to see that you practically ignore a pack of roamers on your trail. Long enough to see that despite a lack of food and water, you never turned on each other. You're survivors and you're people. Like I said, and I hope you won't punch me for saying it again, that is the most important resource in the world," Aaron emphasized and Rick stepped closer to him.
"How many others are out there?" he demands calmly.
"One," Aaron answers and Rick shakes his head with a slight smile, "I knew you wouldn't believe me. If it's not words, if it's not pictures, what would it take to convince you that this is for real? What if I drove you to the community, all of you? We leave now, we'll get there by lunch."
"I'm not sure how all of us are going to fit in the car you and your one friend drove down here in," Rick says, trying to poke holes in Aaron's story. Bambi nibbled on her bottom lip, feeling conflicted. This man seemed sincere, but after so long of watching your back it's hard to take what people say at face value. If they're lying it could end with someone, or everyone, getting killed. Not to mention Bambi could barely see or think straight, she could feel another fainting spell coming on.
"We drove separately. If we found a group, we wanted to be able to bring them all home. There's enough room for all of us," Aaron insists.
"And you're parked just a couple miles away, right?" Carol asks.
"East on Ridge Road, just after you hit Route 16. We wanted to get them closer, but then the storm came and blocked the road. We couldn't clear it," Aaron explains.
"Yeah, you've really thought this through," Rick mutters, still not buying it.
"Rick, if I wanted to ambush you, I'd do it here. You know, light the barn on fire while you slept, pick you off as you ran out the only exit. You can trust me," Aaron promises.
Bambi could feel her limbs starting to tremble more than they already were, her vision going black around the edges as her throat began to tighten. She shakily got off of the crate she was sitting on, not wanting to fall backward and bang her head when she fainted. Carl instinctively reached to help her sit on the ground.
"Dad it's happening again," Carl says urgently as Bambi begins to struggle to keep her eyes open and slouched against him. Rick's gaze snapped in Bambi's direction and hastily walked over to her.
He dropped to the ground beside her, instantly cradling her against his chest, "You're alright baby, I'm right here," he tried to soothe her as she began to hyperventilate. Her breathing often picked up before she passed out like her throat was tightening and limiting her airflow. She couldn't slow it if she tried, "Try to relax, I'm right here. I'll be right here holdin' you the whole time until you wake back up," Rick insists as Bambi's eyes involuntarily drift shut and her breaths puffed out in short staccatos. Rick's hand cradled the base of her skull while the other curled around her to keep her from falling off his lap.
"I'm trying," she gasps out, her voice strained, "Can't open my eyes."
"I know, it's okay. Just let it happen," Rick coos, his grip tightening as her body began to tremble more, another common occurrence before she passed out. Aaron watched the scene curiously, asking what was wrong with her but Michonne quickly shushed him. Maggie had already gotten up to grab one of the few bottles of water, knowing Bambi would need it when the spell passed. Bambi's body finally went limp in Rick's grip and he sighed shakily, readjusting his hold on her to feel the pulse on her neck. Feeling her heartbeat gave him comfort when this happened, a reminder that even though she was unconscious she was alive.
Aaron glanced around the room, looking for any understanding as to what was happening, but nobody seemed overly alarmed, as if this was a common occurrence. Maggie crouched down beside Rick, holding the bottle of water in her hands. "She's startin' to come back," Maggie mutters, noticing the change in her breathing. Rick glanced over at Aaron, making sure he hadn't moved, even though everyone else was still circled around the room watching him. Rick began to rub her back as she came to, her eyes opening slightly.
"Hey baby, everything's alright," Rick soothes her, kissing her forehead, "It's all done," he coos, "My brave girl," he whispered against her forehead for only Bambi to hear. When her eyes began to look a bit more focused Rick nodded at Maggie, who then held the water bottle up to Bambi's lips so she could take a few sips. Rick continued to mutter encouragements and soothing words into Bambi's ear, rubbing her back and gently massaging her scalp.
"I'll check out the cars," Michonne says now that Bambi seems more stable.
"There aren't any cars," Rick grumbled, sending Michonne a disapproving look despite his gentleness towards Bambi who was still leaning against him, taking a few more sips of water that Maggie offered.
"There's only one way to find out," Michonne argues with a determined glint in her eye.
"We don't need to find out," Rick snaps.
"We do," Michonne insists, "You know what you know and you're sure of it, but I'm not."
"Me neither," Maggie agrees from her spot beside Bambi and Rick.
"Your way is dangerous, mine isn't," Rick shakes his head, readjusting his hold on Bambi to keep her firmly against him.
"Passing up someplace where we can live? Where Carl can live? Or where Bambi can live without having to make herself sick? That's pretty dangerous," Michonne protested before standing straighter to show how serious she was, "We need to find out what this is. We can handle ourselves. So that's what we're gonna do." she said firmly, leaving no room for argument. Michonne glanced down at Bambi who was cradled against Rick, limp in his lap like she was too weak to move, before looking back up at Rick meaningfully. A silent reminder of her own concern for Bambi's health.
"Then I will too. I'll go," Glenn says. Rick shook his head for a moment, as if he was going to protest, then looked over his shoulder at Abraham.
"I'll walk with them," Abraham says, pushing off the wall of the barn to go over to Michonne and Glenn. Rick then turned to Rosita and she agreed to go as well.
"If there's trouble, you got enough firepower?" Rick asks them.
"We got what we got," Glenn sighs and Rick reaches behind him to grab Aaron's gun out of the waistband of his pants and handed it to Glenn without jostling Bambi too much, "The walkies are out of juice. If you're not back in 60 minutes we'll come. Which might be just what they want." Rick says as the group begins to leave the barn to keep watch outside for any signs of trouble. Rick carefully lifted Bambi into his arms and walked over to a measly pile of straw they had used for a bed the night before. He gently set her down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Try to get some shut eye okay? I'll be right here if it happens again," Rick murmurs soothingly, resting his hand on the side of her face. Bambi nods, lying down on the straw. She always felt exhausted after these spells. Rick made sure her shirt covered the expanse of her torso so the straw wouldn't itch her, making sure she was covered and as comfortable as possible before walking over to the door of the barn to peer out for any sign of danger.
"When the world was still the world, I worked for an NGO. Our mission was to deliver medicine and food to the Niger River Delta. Bad people pointed guns in my face every other week. You're not bad people. You're not going to kill us. And we are definitely not going to kill you," Aaron says.
"Just because we're good people doesn't mean we won't kill you," Rick mutters, still looking out the crack in the barn door, "If the five of them aren't back in an hour… I'll put a knife in the base of your skull," Rick said with an eerily calm tone of voice before shutting the barn door and walking over to his backpack. He had found some electrolyte packets a few weeks ago and had been rationing them for Bambi. As he dug through the bag only to find empty packets he sighed shakily, running his hand over his face. Taking them after these spells helped her bounce back quicker.
"I don't know if asking will earn me another punch in the face but… clearly your girlfriend isn't well," Aaron said hesitantly and Rick looked up at him, his eyes turning into a deadly glint, "I don't know what's wrong with her but from all the electrolyte packet wrappers in your bag I take it Gatorade might help her?" Aaron swallowed nervously, afraid he would somehow set Rick off, "There's a half-drunk bottle in my pack. I'm sure you saw it in there." Rick only looked at him, before grabbing Bambi's backpack to see if she had any packets left. Knowing Aaron had been following them, Rick was worried he knew that Bambi was sick and the Gatorade was a trick, "This isn't a trick. This isn't about trying to make you like me. I just want to help." Aaron insists. Rick sighs again and glances over at Bambi who is watching them with droopy eyes.
Rick rose to his feet and grabbed the half-drunk bottle of Gatorade off the crate they had used to put Aaron's stuff on before walking back over to Aaron and holding out the bottle in front of him with a raised eyebrow, "She's not drinkin' this until I know it's not poisoned or some shit. Take a sip," Rick says firmly. Aaron sighs and leans forward to take a swig of Gatorade. Satisfied Aaron didn't immediately die or spit it out after, he walked back over to Bambi and helped her sit up, "Drink this baby, it'll help you feel better," Rick encouraged, holding the bottle to her lips. As Bambi takes a few sips Rick kisses the top of her head, "Good girl."
"We have a big community. Medical supplies, medicine… we have the means to help her if you'd let us. You'd have your own place to live where she can be safe and regain her strength," Aaron tries to reason and Rick glances down at his watch.
"You got 43 minutes," he mutters before focusing back on Bambi who was sipping on the Gatorade.
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